#“spitting on smut” yuck who in their right mind would- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

himbocoups · 2 years

Text

˗ˋˏ YUCK! ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only (Part One)

synopsis: how can you remain friends with benefits with someone who turns his plushies around during sex, pouts when you don't kiss him goodbye, and spends his time occupying your mind?

pairing: lsm x yn (gn afab)

genre: fluff, romance | m, smut

tags: food, character is drunk in a flashback, cursing, domesticity, fwb, sexual innuendos, university au | car sex, degradation/dumbification, dirty talk, exhibitionism, fingering, games, pet names, switch dk/reader, spitting, pnv, unprotected sex

wc: 7.62k

a/n: some grumpy x sunshine dynamics inspired by my favorite song off charli's crash album. deciding to drop this fic in 2 parts instead of one bc the length of this vs my old laptop is e***** my a**. I literally had to delete the sims 😔 kind of excited and scared bc this is my first fic on this blog so comments are deeply appreciated -nu ♡

yuck! - part two

lipglossjun's masterlist

Bare legs intertwined and arms wrapped around each other, DK brings his head closer to yours so that your noses are only a few centimeters apart. He whispers good morning and gently kisses you on the forehead. However, instead of greeting him back, you decide to ruin an otherwise sweet and heartfelt moment by reaching above your head for the closest thing you can find and slamming it onto his body.

“Stop being cheesy. You can’t ‘Good Morning’ me after sex,” you grumble, turning your body away from his.

DK’s large and deformed bumblebee plush he frequently uses as a backrest bounces off his body and plops onto the cold tiled floor where it joins a menagerie of different plushies and discarded clothing items. DK doesn’t do anything in retaliation and only snuggles into your back, wraps his arm around your side, and pulls you closer to him.

“Fuck aftercare. I’m still horny,” he mumbles into your neck while leaving warm kisses on your shoulder. He moves his right arm to your hips and massages your waist with his thumb, pressing deeply and drawing circles into your skin.

The action is enough to make you think about going another round with him, but the scattered sounds of metal doors opening and closing in the distance tell you that it’s almost time for your morning class. You reach to the side to grab your phone from his nightstand to double-check the time. There’s a text from your friend who lets you know he has your lab coat. There’s a follow-up text from him telling you to stop fucking DK so that you don’t get a grade docked for missing lab. As much as you want to laze in bed with DK, you detangle yourself from him and sit up. He whines at the lack of warmth, but you ignore him and make your way to his private bathroom where your overnight bag hangs on one of the metal door hooks.

You can still hear him whining about his horniness as your hand reaches for the toilet paper roll beside you. Not wanting him to continue complaining, you tell him very loudly that you are peeing. You hope it’s enough to get him to leave you alone. At the same time, you hope your voice doesn’t travel through the bathroom vent duct to the other dormitory restrooms.

His whining stops.

You think he’s starting his usual clean-up routine, plugging in his white shell-shaped socket air freshener – the same linen scented one he bought once and then over and over again simply because you complimented it once in passing. He would pick up all of the fallen stuffed animals he’s collected over the years, probably apologizing to them one by one for dropping them and for having sex in front of them. It’s just who he is, and you never understood how you became friends with someone like him in the first place.

You’re blunt, a no-bullshit kind of person. If Eeyore and Squidward had a baby, that baby would be you. So, usually, people like Dokyeom would piss you off. Dokyeom is the type of person who wakes up as refreshed as the type of people in those instant coffee commercials after they have had their morning cup of dark roast. He’s bright and bubbly and too kind for his own good. He’s stopped many roommate disputes simply by tearing up while listening to his “children” – as he likes to refer to them – argue in front of him. He can’t walk to class without waving at or bumping into somebody he knows. Hanging out with people like DK sucks the energy out of you, but DK's miraculously somehow your friend.

Also, part of you knows you lucked out when you became friends with benefits with a dormitory resident advisor a few months ago. It’s convenient for the both of you – because of his single bed and bath suite, you always have a place to stay if you are still on campus late at night. Both of you two never need to worry about being too loud because his room is basically soundproof. However, that luck also meant having a partner who doesn’t understand his boundaries, has an overtly positive mindset, and treats and takes care of you like you are one of his Freshman residents.

“I swear if I get a UTI…” you mumble to yourself while you lock your phone and place it on the sink counter before you wipe. You make a mental note that you still have a few minutes before you have to head to your morning class or else you would be way too late.

When you leave his bathroom, you see he’s making his bed. The resident advisor is fully dressed and happily fluffs his pillows as if you didn’t use them to stifle his moans while riding him just a few minutes ago – not because he was too loud, but because it was seven in the morning and all you wanted to do was fuck. As you predicted, his stuffed animals are all back in place, including the ones that toppled onto his floor. The air freshener is plugged into the socket with its intensity on the highest setting. His curtains are pulled open, and the calm morning breeze gently brushes against the bright green string of pearls plant sitting on his windowsill. In his trashcan under his desk is the tied and disposed of used condom tastefully covered by empty snack wrappers and dirty lint roller sheets. It’s like he lives a double life – one that only you know and one that only his residents know.

You find a small water bottle and a granola bar on your backpack that you left on his desk chair when you arrived last night. Confused, you point at the items and turn to the man sitting on his bed. There is a big dumb smile plastered on his face despite you looking at him with a blank expression.

“What’s this?” you move the water and snack onto his desk so you can swing your backpack over your shoulder. You lean over his wooden desk to double-check and fix your hair in his table mirror.

“Some snacks,” he sings while reaching over to pull a stuffed animal onto his lap. It’s the one he often hugs when he sleeps alone. “You didn’t eat this morning,” he pouts.

“What did I say about not needing to be taken care of?” You frown while grabbing the water bottle and hesitate while looking at the bar you put on his tidy desk. “I hate granola,” you grumble, but you decide to pocket the bar before leaving.

He grabs the paw of the large brown bear he’s cuddling and uses it to wave goodbye, “Study hard.”

You flip him off before closing his large metal dormitory door behind you. His keypad whirs and clicks its automatic lock into place, and you make your way to the hallway elevators.

With each navy blue carpeted step you take towards the dormitory elevator, the wrapped granola bar crinkles annoyingly in your sweats pocket. The more you’re aware of the crinkling, the louder it rings in your ear – and it’s driving you insane. You hate the awful bright green dormitory doors, the sound of the foil wrapper, and the way DK tries to take care of you when all you want is sex. Sure, you can’t say you’re not attracted to him. You’re not the type to be friends with benefits with somebody you don’t have an emotional connection with. Yet, the man doesn’t even have a car. How can he take care of you if he can’t even drive on the freeway? To you, friends with benefits is like a drive-thru – you enter, you exchange for goods, and you exit. For a man without a car, the concept of his drive-thru just seems abstruse.

Even more annoying is DK’s stupid laminated smiling face stapled onto his large classroom bulletin board. DK’s face stares you down front and center while you wait for the elevator to stop on your floor. Below his face are hand-cut expensive cardstock letters shaped in a wavy curve spelling out A Baa-ginner’s Guide to Sleep. Under the title are several large sheep with sleeping facts glued to their centers that leap across a fence in a green pasture. You doubt anybody really pays attention to his bulletin board, but you quickly read through the facts on each sheep to pass the time while you wait for the elevator to arrive on your floor.

On the right side of the bulletin board is a tiny suggestion box nailed to the wall with a washable marker attached to the side of the box. You decide to uncap the black marker and quickly draw facial hair on DK’s face. You think he wouldn’t mind the hair – it’s nothing compared to the number of phallic pictures he had to erase on the whiteboard on his door the first month of school. If anything, he could wipe it off whenever he wanted. You cap the marker and look at his fresh goatee. The corner of your lips turns upwards and then quickly falls back to its resting position.

Your phone in your other pocket coincidentally buzzes when the elevator dings. You pull out your phone while stepping into the empty elevator and press the elevator button for the first floor. You see it’s a text from DK. He sent you a selfie of him and the same brown bear plush he was cuddling earlier. He wants you to know he’s still horny, but he misses you. A lot.

You sigh and unhook your backpack from your shoulder so you can access the front pocket of your backpack. The elevator stops at the floor below you, and you make your way to the side to let other students onto the elevator.

The weather is finally nice outside after a week of consistent fog and overcast skies, so you thought it would be a great idea to study together under the sun. However, about half an hour into studying, Jun is about twenty chapters into a webcomic on his phone, Chan is busy flicking stray ants off the thin bedsheet, and you are about to resort to using ideas from your 2014 costume party Pinterest board you archived into the depths of hell a few years ago.

“It’s giving either pick me or middle school boy whose entire personality is him being a class clown,” Chan says while laying back down on the makeshift picnic blanket you made from an old yellow bedsheet you pulled from your closet. He crosses his arms under his head for support.

Jun grabs the laptop from Chan’s lap and clicks through the options you’ve opened in your different tabs. He squints his eyes at the screen and winces at every single one while he drags his finger across your touchpad, wishing he never saw your options. He shakes his head and pushes your laptop back to you, immediately going back to scrolling on his phone.

You take back your laptop from Jun and frown while clicking on your different open tabs to peruse your options again. You thought it would be funny if you wore the themed costume you were currently going for, but your friends think it’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever come up with – and you’ve come up with a ton of stupid ideas in the past. But you couldn’t see how this simple costume gives off a “pick me” vibe.

“I just think it’d be funny,” you grumble while closing your current tabs to look for more options.

You’ve noticed that you’ve been hanging out with DK more than usual. Sometimes it wasn’t even to hook up with him. You would stay at his place to study for midterms, and the two of you would often end up having dinner or breakfast together. You’ve been in the dorms for so long that his residents often mistake you for another resident. But it’s true, DK is only a friend – albeit one who’s starting to grow on you – but he’s only a friend. What’s the use in trying to find a costume that he would laugh at anyway?

“What did I tell you? You can’t just be friends with benefits with somebody like DK. People like him want long relationships. They like holding hands while walking. They like sending goodnight texts with a cute moving sticker from a sticker pack they paid for attached to it. They consider taking you home to their parents as a date,” Chan quickly sits up to try to see your laptop screen, but immediately lays back down when his vision gets blurry. He uses it as an excuse to skip the gym today.

“You, on the other hand,” Chan turns to his side so he can see you more clearly, “just want his dick in you.”

The other friend tries to stifle his laughter after hearing the word “dick.” You groan and push Chan’s chest, causing him to fall flat on his back again. Although you have to admit, you don’t disagree with him. Getting dicked down by your friend after meeting up with him to try new dessert places he found on Instagram is an amazing experience. You could taste the remnants of his frozen yogurt flavor on his tongue while he kisses you after eating you out. Visiting new places and hooking up afterward? It’s like an extended BOGO deal that doesn’t seem to have an expiry date.

“You say that like wanting dick is a bad thing,” the other friend, Jun, who swapped his phone for your backpack, opens the front pocket to look for something fun to play with or eat that would better interest him.

He pulls out the granola bar you shoved in your backpack that sat untouched since DK gave it to you. He quickly reads the label to look at the flavor and decides to pocket the bar.

“No,” you tell him when you hear the familiar crinkle of the foil wrapper. You reach over to snatch your backpack and your granola bar back from your friend. “It’s mine,” you emphasized.

“You don’t even like those,” Jun grumbles while leaning his elbow on his knee. He huffs very loudly, making it very obvious he is sad he wasn’t able to take the snack for himself.

You roll your eyes and launch the granola bar straight at his chest. It hits him with a hollow-sounding thunk and lands on his lap. Bullseye.

“Jesus,” Chan exclaims, now sitting up. He points at the poor boy who is rubbing the sore spot on his chest with a smile on his face, “What’s with you and chests?”

You shrug, your face void of any expression. You were more of an arm person.

“But going back to Yn and DK, I honestly don’t see anything wrong with them. They’re just friends who hook up,” Jun, who is completely fine, tears the corner of the foil wrapper and pulls it downwards. He moves the remaining end that covers the sticky bar to the side, revealing the snack that lost its original shape after being tumbled and bumped in your backpack. “My last friends with benefits hated my guts. We had absolutely nothing in common too. I literally had to fuck in silence because if we talked, we would only fight. But it only lasted a while because they were only visiting the area, but damn, I definitely wouldn’t do it again.”

He takes a bite of his granola bar.

“Hate fucking can make you grow stress acne,” he casually adds while his mouth is full.

The two of you turn to him in surprise, never knowing about his revelation despite years of being friends. Jun shrugs, unbothered by your expressions, and continues to snack.

“What? I like getting my dick sucked,” he nonchalantly tells the two of you. A tiny piece of oat flies out of his mouth and onto the blanket. You flick it away before the ants can get to it, but Jun doesn’t seem to notice and continues to talk, “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

Crumbs fall out of his mouth while he speaks with his mouth full. Only after he finishes his sentence does he take time to swallow his mouthful and shove the remainder of the bar into his mouth. He swats the crumbs off the blanket and his clothes and crumples the wrapper, looking around for the nearest trashcan.

His eyes land on a group of people moving carts and setting up for an event in the distance. He could recognize the outfits anywhere from the navy blue polo with the university crest embroidered on the left chest to the regulated sand-colored khakis every worker has to wear. He’s seen someone wear that uniform more often than he would have liked. Every time he complains about how ugly the polyester polos look, his friend who regularly wears the uniform only laughs at him and waves goodbye.

Why would RA’s need to wear sports wick fabric? Jun thinks to himself. Do they get sweaty from doing dormitory checks at midnight?

You notice Jun silently frowning at something in the distance instead of getting up to throw away his trash. You turn your body to look at who he’s frowning at, and you see a bunch of students setting up for some university event later in the afternoon. Your eyes land on a familiar silhouette who carries a clipboard in his left hand while pointing at different places to tell his coworkers where to place the different banners and tables. You know it’s him from the crisp khaki pants he refuses to stain to the way he carries himself – the bounce in his step and the way his open hand always falls onto the shoulder of the person next to him to use as support while he’s laughing.

He’s the same person who’s too kind for his own good. You think about the time you went shopping at the mall with him and how he couldn’t bring himself to decline the offer of getting a free scrub from the skincare kiosk. You had to stare down the man into applying the product on the back of DK’s arm, but even then, DK spent the next week rubbing medical-grade hydrocortisone cream on his rash without complaining. DK still wonders about where the man is every time he visits the mall to this day. On the other hand, you would never admit to secretly taking matters into your own hand by writing angrily worded reviews on their Google page under Chan’s abandoned elementary school email he uses to sign up for free trials.

“You’re drooling for a man in khakis,” Chan suddenly disrupts your thoughts. “Check yourself.”

You blink your eyes and look around you. Jun is already long gone, Jun's trash tossed in a trashcan. Now, he’s leaning against a tree while chatting up a poor girl who wanted to read her novel in peace. The funny thing is, he seems to be doing pretty well.

Chan, who doesn’t want both you and Jun to go to the party with a date, excuses himself so he could leave to annoy and embarrass Jun. He thinks if he has to go to the party alone, then he’s dragging one of you down with him. In this case, it’s Jun.

Your mind wanders back to the costume party. You can’t do a couple’s costume because one, you and DK are not a couple; and two, DK always shows up as a slutty fireman. It was his thing. He would show up to parties already a little tipsy from pregaming. He would hug a liter bottle of chase in one arm and have a coiled prop hose hanging from his shoulder on the opposite side. His firefighter costume would hang from his waist while DK walks around dapping up his friends in a white sleeveless cotton tank with streaks of grey ash. And the drunker he gets, the more lopsided his firefighter helmet sits on his head, eventually falling off when he crashes on the couch.

To Jun, dressing up as a firefighter is probably one of the sluttiest things DK could ever do. The first is respecting women. You’re number six on Jun’s list.

Someone comes up behind you from where you’re sitting and holds a cold water bottle in front of your face. He turns it upside down and quickly flicks it upright so the water inside the bottle whirls around in a whirlpool.

“Water tornado,” DK laughs while twisting open the white cap and handing the plastic bottle to you.

His lame party trick makes you snort. Instead of complaining about already having your own iced water, you gladly accept his water. You put the cap back on and put it on top of your backpack knowing very well that his booth would be selling refreshments for triple its wholesale value.

He sits next to you on the bedsheet that’s slightly damp from touching the grass. He stretches his legs across the blanket and makes himself comfortable by laying on his back. He asks you where Chan and Jun are, and you point at the two of them pushing each other in front of the girl. You stare at them in defeat.

“Poor girl,” he tsks.

He moves his head onto your lap and you hover your hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun. He quietly stares at you while you use your other hand to open your university login page on your laptop, not really paying attention to him.

Just then, someone calls for DK from the event area. DK immediately sits up but accidentally slams his forehead into your palm. You let out a soft laugh, and he playfully glares at you.

How dumb.

“Just saying ‘hi’ to a friend,” he yells back.

A friend.

“Give me a kiss before I leave?”

“No,” you frown at him while looking away. You were trying to get him to go back to work. It also wasn’t like you called him over. Albeit there is a part of you that is the tiniest bit of upset after hearing DK call you his friend so easily. How dumb of you.

He pouts but gently squeezes your shoulder before he jogs back to where he was setting up.

In the distance, Jun and Chan sigh while they pull out their phones to transfer money into the hammock girl’s bank account. Hammock girl bet that he wouldn’t kiss you even if nobody was near the two of you. She was right. Although, the three of them could agree that a shoulder squeeze is just sad.

He giggles when he sees your face contort in disgust after he holds the body wash under your nose, squeezing it gently so you can smell the scent. He takes it back and flips the cap closed before putting it back on the store shelf. He takes the bottle from your hand when it’s your turn to pass him your pick, but he quickly passes it back to you after he smells the scent. He shakes his head “no.”

“You don’t like this one?” you cap the bottle and place it back where it belongs. You thought the scent was fine with you.

“It’s too sweet,” DK reads the label on another product, “I feel like it would attract ants.” He shudders at the idea of a line of ants trailing in his bathroom but continues to swing his shopping basket by his side while he browses the bath products aisle.

You don’t know how DK managed to convince you to drive him to the retail store and help him with his next bulletin board design. You think it’s because he knows you drew the mustache on his face, but he suggested you shop with him for a body wash that you would also prefer using because you’ve been staying over at his place more often. You were going to decline his suggestion, but you remembered you were almost out of trash bags and condoms for your place. Because there were only so many times you could visit the health center free condom bowl without becoming one of their regulars, you agreed to his request.

Yet here you are, trailing closely behind DK under the bright fluorescent store lights where the first bottle on mostly every shelf is just a little crooked. The two of you have spent the last few minutes trying to find a scent that works for both of you. To be honest, you couldn’t care less about the fragrance he chooses, but he insists on finding the perfect one – stressing the “t” in “perfect” to the point where it came out of his mouth in a clicking sound. You were more or less focused on how his bicep bulges the heavier his basket gets – practically drooling when his rolled shirt sleeve pushes up just a little whenever his arm automatically flexes every time he adds an item to his basket. You hope he thinks you’re staying quiet because your nose is congested from smelling all of the products and not because you’ve been staring at his arms the entire time.

He taps you on your shoulder when you’re skimming the ingredient list of a 3-in-1, and you look over to see him smiling widely at you as he holds a slim opaque bottle in his hand.

When you smell the body wash he holds under your nose, you give him a tiny nod in agreement. He immediately caps the bottle, drops it in his basket, and heads toward his next destination. The bottle rolls over in the red basket, and you briefly see the scent name while you trail behind its future owner. Its scent fits the man humming in front of you perfectly, and you can’t deny that you’re quite fond of it yourself. You decide to grab one for your place before catching up to him.

About half an hour later, you’re still staring at his arms while he reaches up the grab the hood of your car trunk to slam it shut after helping load the shopping bags. He seems to notice you staring as he wastes time by looking into his tote bag, pretending to look for something.

You hate him, that little minx. Of course, he knows you’re staring at him. He knows exactly how you’re feeling. He didn’t purposely press against you while reaching up for items on higher shelves for nothing. The t-shirt he’s wearing? It’s a size too small, but by god do you think it fits so tightly and so well around his body.

Between stressing about midterms and working on top of taking classes with a full-time course load, your sex drive has been out of sync with how it used to be. You and DK haven’t had proper sex in a while, and you’ve been caught thinking about sex during geology lab (out of all places). Jun was pretty sure you were harder than all of the rocks on the lab table. If one more sex scenario came into your mind, you were pretty sure a diamond would fall out of you the next time you open your legs.

DK knows how to push your buttons and rile you up – subtly and in multiplicities. But in your favorite retail store? Where you go to de-stress and bask in the free air conditioning? The same one that welcomes you with the scent of fresh buttery popcorn when you walk through its large revolving doors? Leave it to DK to ruin the one good thing you had going for you, but if you’re going to fuck DK in your car, then you are going to make him pay for it in the process.

When you shut your car door, the hanging pine tree shaped air freshener clacks with the acrylic figurine keychain Chan brought back for you when he visited Japan during the winter. DK is sitting in the middle seat in the backseat of your manual, already visibly hard and palming himself. He grabs your hand while you move towards him to straddle his lap. Your knees sink into the cushions on the sides of his thighs, and you grind yourself on his arousal, feeling him grow harder and harder under you – days of pent up stress immediately leaving your body. He places his hands on your hips, guiding your movements, groaning when you find your pace – feeling the pool of arousal between your legs leak onto his crotch.

You grab his chin, thumb stroking the stubble along his jaw. He looks back at you with his big dark eyes, and your head dips so your lips can meet his. Your lips are hard and impatient as yours collides against his over and over – mouths working in tandem as he matches your pace and fervor as you continue to grind against him, digging your hips deeper into him when your back arches. You can’t help but smile against his lips and he moans in response, against your mouth. You fill the tiny opening by taking his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging and running your tongue against his lip.

However, he pulls back to catch his breath. His hands have traveled to your ass, and he asks you in the most innocent tone while kneading them between his fingers, “But what about the cars waiting for us?”

You roll your eyes and verbally scoff at him. You point his chin upwards so he’s looking up at you. He gulps while you stare at him, your eyes burning holes into his eyes. He knows you’re mad. But his dick twitches in excitement just thinking about how you’re going to punish him.

“Don’t play dumb with me fucking slut,” the way you jeer at him sends shivers down his spine. He looks up at you with glassy eyes, staying silent while you continue to berate him. “What? Purposely riling me up and then playing innocent when you think about a car waiting for us?”

He continues to stay silent while his breathing gets harder. He can feel his pre-cum leaking out of his dick, wanting desperately for you to sink down on him.

You tilt his chin to the side so you can whisper in his ear, “I’m going to make them watch you fall apart under me until they forget why they’re waiting for us in the first place. You understand?”

He nods his head quickly, thinking about how hot you look at that moment. You reach down to stroke his arousal with your other hand still secured around his chin. He whimpers at the feeling of your hand around him, eager to do anything you tell him to.

“What was the theme that you came up with for your bulletin board?” you pout at him, faking innocence. Of course you knew his theme. It’s all he’s been talking about since you picked him up from school. The concept is a little abstract, but you don’t push him because it’s not your board in the first place. You remove your hand from his chin and slowly trace it down his chest while looking at him with playful eyes.

“S-Simon says,” he hiccups as you unbutton his pants. He bites his lip when you reach his hard-on.

You see he’s red, hard, and throbbing in the palm of your hand. There’s enough pre-cum to drip down the sides of your fingers. You languidly stroke him, relieving some of the tension built up in his stomach. He hisses in response, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the headrest.

“Simon says to tell me what you’re thinking.”

DK draws in an unsteady breath and groans while you continue stroking him up and down, slowly adding speed. “I’ve been so horny,” he breathes. “I think about you at night. How you’ll kneel in front of me, naked, and in between my legs. How you’ll slowly kiss up my thighs, leaving wet kisses the way I like them while spreading my thighs apart because you always treat me s-so well no matter how b-bad I’ve been,” he babbles while gripping onto your shoulders, anything that he can grip onto his vicinity.

You rub your thumb over his smooth head while he spreads his thighs a little wider in his seat. You feel your core begin to throb when you hear him shamelessly groan, the sound alone stimulating you further. However, you try to keep your composure while he’s literally in the palm of your hand.

“And…” he trails off for a bit, turning his head and not meeting your eyes. You see the tips of his ears glow bright red as he tries to avoid your stare. “I had wet dreams about you spitting in my mouth,” he mumbles while trying to hide from you despite the fact that you’re still sitting on his lap.

The mere thought of spitting into Dokyeom’s mouth continues to feed the flame burning inside of you, so you decide to continue your game with him.

“What was that hmm?” you dip your head so that you’re hovering right above his lips. He has nowhere to turn except to face you. And when he does, you can tell his eyes are frantically darting between your eyes and your lips. You’re close enough to him to feel his breath on your lips, how his breath hitches as you continue to build his high. “What did you want me to do to you?”

He quickly shakes his head and looks up at you as if to tell you he’s being a good boy by playing the game by the rules. You didn’t say “Simon Says” before your last question. You smile and nod at him while slowly pulling your shorts and panties down, placing yourself on top of his dick. He whimpers upon contact.

You trace him along the inside of your soaked folds, and he immediately bucks under your lap. He’s sweating and very close to becoming overstimulated at this point, but he’s surprisingly enjoying it.

“Simon Says to tell you what you want Simon to do to you,” you taunt him calmly. You align him at your entrance while keeping eye contact with him.

“Please...” he mewls, so desperate that he can’t even properly tell you what he wants. It’s frustrating, and he’s frustrated. He throws a mini fit by huffing after pleading.

“Please what?” you kiss along his jawline while he tries rutting up into you. “Did my dumb slut forget how to speak?”

You frown at his action and lift yourself higher so he can’t reach you. You cock an eyebrow at him, trying to get him to tell you want he wants you to do to him. Because, fuck, even you were getting desperate at this point (even though it is mostly your fault for prolonging it for so long).

He finally fesses, “P-Please fuck me so hard that your car ah–”

So caught up with everything, you forget about his size, and loudly moan while you bottom out on him, immediately clinging onto him while you bury your face in his neck. He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence, but he lets out a choked scream as he feels you take all of him so well and so quickly. He feels so tight, so full in you. It reminds you about how much you needed him in you these past few days. He curses under his breath, automatically pulling you into him. He kisses you with so much ardor, running his tongue around yours, that you temporarily forget that you’re only friends.

His large hands find their way to your ass again, sizing you up and guiding it up and down over and over again, making you bounce up and down on him. He groans out loud while he drowns in the feeling of him stretching you open and you clenching tightly around him, hearing the sounds of your ass slapping against his thighs. You feel so good around him, a lot tighter than usual that he has to stop himself from coming immediately. His lips temporarily leave yours with a thin line of saliva still webbed between your mouths when he breaks your kiss. You take the chance to tell him to open his mouth wide, and he quickly obeys. You grab a fistful of his hair and pull it backward. His eyes roll to the back of his head, and you spit on his extended tongue, watching the transparent liquid slowly slide down his tongue. He swallows it and sticks his tongue out again, begging for more.

“Aww,” you coo at him while he tugs on your shirt, a little habit of his when he’s needy but too fucked out to verbally beg. “Dumb baby. Did you forget you’re still being punished?”

You lift yourself from him so that only his tip remains in you. He tries angling his hips so he can be in you again, but you only shake your head at him while trapping his waist between your knees. At this point, he can only whine your name. Your name escapes his mouth in a high-pitched rasp, slowly removing one of his hands from your ass to knead himself. He slowly rolls his balls between his fingers, tugging and releasing the prettiest moans while you watch him slowly get off by himself.

“Fine. Go ahead,” you remove yourself from his lap when you realize what he’s doing. You sit on the seat beside him while you watch him touch himself despite your pussy aching without his touch. “I was going to ask you to choose between me spitting in my dumb whore’s mouth again or ride him to completion, but it seems like he doesn’t need me anymore.”

He pauses what he’s doing to look at you with big glossy eyes. His face is hot and flushed, and you can still smell his musky scent from where you’re sitting. You almost cave when you see him look at you, your heart fluttering a little. No matter how much you love playing with DK, you will have to admit that you have such a soft spot for him. He reaches over to tug your shirt sleeve, but you only shake him off. You can’t allow yourself to swallow your pride no matter how much you want to baby him.

You think he’s going to beg for you to forgive him, but he does the complete opposite. He takes matters into his own hands by leaning over you despite the cramped space. He spreads your legs while he leans in between them.

“What are you doing?” you gulp.

He hovers his hand over your core and looks at you. You immediately nod, and he rubs your nub with his thumb, slowly inserting his ring finger in your cunt. He hooks it at the right spot, immediately making you buck against his hand in response.

“A- Ah. Baby please,” you mewl at him, begging for him to pump his finger. When he only stares at you, enjoying watching you beg underneath him as you fuck yourself on his finger repeatedly, your pride thrown out the window.

“I’m not even moving my finger and I can feel you creaming around it,” he smirks while tapping the inside of you by hooking and unhooking his finger, causing the coil in you to snap as you wail his name while riding out your orgasm.

Now it’s his turn to cock his head in amusement while he watches you desperately cling onto his arm as you continue to come on his single finger. Your eyes are squeezed shut, and your mouth can’t help but hang open while he inserts another long finger into you while you’re trembling under his touch. He continues to rub your nub in figure eights while he slowly scissors your aching and swollen cunt, knowing you’re about to cum again based on how tightly you’re clenched around his fingers, calling out and mindlessly babbling his name over and over again like it’s the only word in your vocabulary.

He feels your juices leak onto his fingers and he pulls them out of you just before your climax hits, holding it up to the large rearview window to see them well-coated with your slick and glistening in the sun. He brings the same fingers into his mouth and licks them clean when he sees a customer walking past the car. He shoves them into your mouth before you can complain, and you close your lips around his fingers, sucking on them and running your tongue around each digit.

“I’m fine with playing Simon Says,” he sighs at you while you continue sucking on his fingers while looking into his eyes. “But if you say you want to fuck me so hard that other people will see, then fucking do it right Yn,” he sneers.

He realigns himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into you. His new angle allows him to drive himself so deep into your cunt that you wail out a choked sob. There are no agonizingly slow strokes as he repeatedly pounds into you, hard, giving you no time to adjust. He ruts himself into you like you’re his toy and grunts while allowing the nastiest words to come out of his mouth, making up for all the time you lost between studying up until that moment. He’s so deep in you that you can feel him in your throat so that you can’t even utter a word, incoherent, as the springs of your car squeak to the rhythm of him relentlessly pounding in you. You’re so cock-drunk that you don’t even notice you’ve came again, this time sopping wet and onto your leather seats. You wail while struggling to keep your lips around his fingers. But they slip out of your mouth with a trail of your saliva and latch around your throat. He’s intoxicating, and you can't seem get him out of your mind.

“Was that too much?” you ask DK while you trace a heart around a plastic stencil he borrowed from the RA from the floor below his.

The two of you are sitting on the white tiled floor of his dormitory room, tracing letters and shapes on the construction paper he picked up at the store. Pop music plays from his laptop speakers, and he has his Pinterest board pulled up on his phone. After much brainstorming and a much-needed shower, the two of you finally came up with a new bulletin theme after scrapping the last one.

“It was the first time you called me ‘baby,’” there is a certain playfulness to his voice.

He proudly holds up the four-leaf clover he made by tracing four hearts on his green construction paper for you to see.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize to him.

Your hand accidentally slips while tracing the figure when DK crawls over to your side to look at your progress, creating a jagged line around the stencil.

“Did that cross the line?” your voice soft yet uneasy. You’re not sure if DK enjoyed the experience in the car. Maybe it was too much, you think to yourself. Maybe, it would’ve been better if you waited until the two of you got to his dorm.

“No…” he sits down on the space next to you and hugs his knees loosely. He thinks about it for a while. “It wasn’t what I expected, but don’t think I hated it,” he confesses while looking at you.

He takes a stray pencil on the floor and fixes the uneven line of the heart that you stenciled. You lean over to pick up his finished clover to compare it to yours. You frown at your crooked stenciled heart, but DK pats your head and reassures you that it’s fine the way it looks. Still, you think you should’ve volunteered to help him type his bulletin board information instead of volunteering to help him do something artistic like stenciling.

“Thanks for helping me with my board today,” he tilts his head to his side while beaming at you. You can smell his new body wash on his skin and the ocean-scented laundry softener beads he uses for his clothes.

It’s your turn to bow your head to avoid his eyes. “I told you I’d help you today,” you mumble while tracing another heart. “And I kind of ruined your original plan.”

“Yn, it’s okay. It didn’t make sense anyway,” he leans over to quickly peck your cheek. He smiles at you and lightly pinches your nose between his thumb and index finger. “Did I ever tell you that you make me the happiest?”

Someone knocks on his door, and he immediately gets up from his spot to greet his resident. You’re left sitting cross-legged on his floor, trying not to make yourself known as the resident advisor talks to the freshman with his door open. You don’t even know why you try to hide yourself. You keep reminding yourself that you’re only his friend and that there’s no shame in being his friend.

But feeling of his lips against your skin lingers a little longer than it should. It’s just a simple peck on your cheek, but it feels like your skin is burning. And for the first time in your life, you don’t complain about his kiss.

###

part two

#seventeen smut #svt smut #dk smut #seokmin smut #dk x reader #seokmin x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #dk imagines #seokmin imagines #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #✏️ ━ himbocoups

3K notes · View notes

imperialstark · 4 years

Text

miss you on my lips

a/n: okay I literally have no idea what this is. i started it in january of 20 fucking 19, and i’m finishing it 15 months later. shit happened. this is super self-indulgent and nsfk so if you’re under 18 please do not click on this fic.

summary: When Steve leaves Stark Tower on a solo mission, Bucky and Tony find a way to pass the time until their Captain comes home.

ship(s): steve rogers/tony stark, steve rogers/james bucky barnes, james bucky barnes/tony stark, steve rogers/james bucky barnes/tony stark

rating: explicit

warning(s): light angst, heavy smut

word count: 7,488

—————

Bucky seldom slept on the nights Steve was missing from their bed. Both he and Tony had their ways of coping. Tony, ever the mother hen, would spend every waking moment in his workshop. He either worked on gear for himself or whoever was missing from their weird haphazard family.

"I can't help it, Buck," he had said, eyeing Bucky with those ridiculous doe eyes of his when Bucky had tried to convince him to get some sleep. "Keeping them safe keeps me going."

It had taken all of Bucky's strength not to sigh and bury his face in his hands. How he of all people had ended up with not one but two reckless boyfriends was beyond him.

Keeping the sigh but omitting the facepalm, Bucky had just pulled the smaller man into a hug and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, tucking it under his chin. "But who's keeping you all safe and healthy, huh? As much as I love DUM-E, he nearly gives you food poisoning once a week."

The aforementioned robot let out an affronted whir.

"DUM-E, language! What would Steve say?"

DUM-E had whirred again, this one long and low. It seemed like Bucky and Tony weren't the only ones missing Steve.

"Steve would say eat something and go to bed, Bambi," Bucky mumbled into his dark curling hair. This close, Bucky could smell motor oil and metal. It shouldn't have been so appealing, but it was so Tony. The strands of hair tickled his nose. Tony would need a haircut soon, although Bucky liked it like this; all warm brown waves and softness. He preferred this look over the gelled swoop he would don when he had to put on what Bucky and Steve had dubbed Tony's Media Mask™️.

"Seeing as Steve doesn't call me ‘Bambi’, I have a hard time believing you, Buckaroo."

Bucky huffed out a laugh. "Yes, he does. We both do. Those eyes of yours are dangerous, Bambi. All wide and innocent."

Tony twisted around from where Bucky had cornered him against his work-station, turned said dangerous eyes on him, and Bucky had melted. He had it bad, didn't he? One look and Tony had him wrapped around his finger.

Rolling his eyes, although Bucky could see him holding back a smile, Tony had just pecked Bucky on the lips. Tony had sent him on his merry way out of his workshop with a cheeky, "I'm anything but innocent, Barnes."

And that's how Bucky found himself pulling a Steve by demolishing punching bag after punching bag in the communal gym. He let the tension and worry from the previous week flow out of his body and into the rough canvas of the punching bag. Sometimes he did feel a bit silly. It wasn't like Steve was missing or on the run or God-forbid, dead. He was just on a solo mission, something they all had gone on too many times to count, and they had all returned home fine.

Bucky remembered mid-punch that this was Steve he was worried about, who always seemed to pick a fight with someone twice as big as him in the 40s. Decades in the ice hadn't changed that about him. Bucky frowned. He wasn't sure whether to be worried or proud. Super soldier serum or not, Bucky had the right to worry about his boyfriend.

Bucky ended up going through three punching bags by the time he was done.

Someone let out a long low whistle that echoed in the near-empty gym.

"Tony's going to have his hands full," Natalia, no Natasha, said, emerging from the sidelines into the light of the gymnasium. He hated himself for still calling her by the wrong name. Natalia was a reminder of both their bloody pasts. Pasts they'd both been trying their hardest to atone for. He understood her need for a new name, a new identity. During field missions, Bucky himself refused to be called "Winter Soldier." He found he was a fan of "White Wolf" these days.

Bucky looked her over. She was dressed in casual attire that she had lifted off the rest of them. The AC/DC shirt was clearly Tony's and judging by the way the grey hoodie she wore flooded her torso, that had to be Steve's. It looked like he and Tony weren't the only ones who missed him. Bucky wasn't surprised. Natasha wasn't vocal about it, but she cared about the team as much as they cared about her.

"Something plaguing your mind, Barnes?" she said, leaning against the wall looking to be without a care in the world. "Missing a certain super soldier?"

Bucky rolled his eyes and began to unwind the wrist wraps from his hands. "Tony will be fine. It'll give him something to do. You know he likes to keep busy," he said, ignoring her questions.

Bucky tossed the wraps into a trash can on his way out of the gym, Natasha not far behind him. "Any reason why you're keen on being my shadow?" he asked.

"Oh, no reason," she said, sidling up to him, "just waiting for you to thank me."

Arching a brow, he said, "For what? As far as I know, you haven't done anything for me recently."

"Except bring Steve home early."

Bucky froze. "What?"

"I may or may not have cashed in a few favors with Fury and got him to send someone to take over Steve's mission. You're welcome, by the way."

He blinked. "Why would you—"

Rolling her eyes, Natasha said, "Your and Tony's pining was affecting the morale."

"We weren't pining—"

"You were pining. Full-on longing sighs and gazing off into the distance, the works," Natasha's eyes glittered with mischief that would have been out of place had he not known her as well as he did. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Barnes."

"...Thanks, Nat."

"No problem," Natasha said.

The two of them settled into a comfortable silence while heading towards the elevator at the end of the hall. At the press of a button, the elevator appeared with a soft ding, announcing its arrival. They boarded the elevator, and it wasn't long before Natasha was exiting the elevator on her own personal floor.

"Hey, Barnes, keep it down when you tell Tony, will you? Some of us actually want to get some sleep tonight," she said. Her lips curled upward in a subtle grin.

Fighting back a flush, Bucky said pointedly, "Good night, Nat." They weren't that loud.

Her lilting laugh followed him all the way up to the penthouse.

Bucky sighed as he took in the vacant penthouse suite. Tony was probably still tinkering in his workshop.

"FRIDAY?" He called as he headed into the kitchenette for a much-needed glass of water. "Is Tony still in his workshop?"

"Boss is currently arguing with DUM-E in his workshop, Mr. Barnes."

Bucky chuckled. "What did DUM-E do?"

"DUM-E got worried when the boss fell asleep at his workbench and figured the best way to wake him up would be to spray him with the fire extinguisher." Bucky could have sworn he had detected some amusement in FRIDAY's voice. He filled a glass with tap water and took a long, grateful swallow, sating his thirst.

"Well, you're a sight for sore eyes."

Bucky's eyes darted to the staircase from which Tony had emerged. Not that he had doubted FRIDAY's words when she said DUM-E had tried to wake Tony up, but the sight that stood before him nearly made him spit out his water. Bucky could barely see his boyfriend's face beneath the mountain of foam that cloaked his body.

Two brown eyes blinked at him through the foam. "What?" Tony said. "Is there something on my face?"

At that, Bucky had to laugh. A full-bellied laugh that had him doubling over. "Aw, Bambi, what happened?" he said between fits of laughter.

Stomping his foot, Tony said, "I told you not to call me that! I'm not a deer." A dollop of foam slid from his shoulder. It landed on the ground with an audible splat that sent Bucky into another bout of laughter.

"Oh, yuck it up. The next time you come home looking ridiculous, I have full permission to laugh my ass off at you."

Tony placed his hands on his hips in what was no doubt supposed to be an authoritative gesture. Seeing as his boyfriend stood at 5'9" and currently looked like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, Bucky had a hard time keeping a straight face. "Duly noted," Bucky grinned.

Tony pointed a finger at him. "I'm holding you to that!"

"You have my word. Scout's honor."

Tony rolled his eyes. "I'm going to shower, and when I get back, I expect you to be groveling on your knees."

Bucky licked his lips. "Oh, sweetheart, I will gladly get on my knees for you." Despite his well-earned reputation as a playboy, Bucky just knew the genius was cherry red underneath all that foam. Good.

"You, my friend," Tony began, once again pointing an accusing finger at him, "are a dangerous man who's gonna drive me to an early grave. I'm going to shower," he repeated.

"I—"

"Alone!"

Despite Tony's claims later on, he did not pout, he glowered. "You don't even know what I was gonna say."

"I know you, honey. That's all I needed," and with that Tony, as dignified as he could, anyway, strutted to their bedroom. Their door locked with a distinct click.

Bucky smirked. It would take much more than a locked door to keep him out, but he'd figure he'd let his boyfriend have his free time.

As soon as Tony stepped out of the shower, he would do what he had promised and gladly get on his knees. Or maybe Tony would surprise him. For now, Bucky would have to entertain himself some other way.

—————

Bucky sat on the couch, in a clean plain white t-shirt and grey sweatpants, having ditched the sweat-soaked pair earlier. With his hair pulled up into a messy bun, and his feet propped up on their coffee table, he was the epitome of comfort. One arm draped over the sofa, the other holding the tv remote, Bucky flipped through the channels, looking for nothing in particular. His mind was elsewhere. Mainly occupied with thoughts of Tony, naked, in the shower, his body lathered in soapy bubbles and hot water sluicing down his firm back—

His phone buzzed in his pocket, jerking him out of his fantasy. A bit miffed that his fantasy had been interrupted, Bucky answered the call, practically growling out a "What?" These days he wasn't too concerned with propriety, and anyone who had this number was someone he trusted completely and wouldn't be bothered by the occasional curt greeting.

"Hello to you too, jerk."

It was unbelievable how quickly Bucky perked up when he heard that familiar voice. "Stevie?"

"The one and only."

"Are you on your way back already?"

Steve's voice grew sulky. "Aw, who told you?"

"Nat let it slip today while I was...training."

"You mean she ambushed you while you were destroying punching bags in the gym."

"How did—"

"You get aggressive when you're over-protective."

"I wouldn't be over-protective if you actually had a sense of self-preservation," Bucky retorted, his face going red. So he may have had a few mother hen tendencies. To be fair, Steve had the self-preservation skills of a sloth.

"You jump from a plane without a parachute once, and suddenly everyone thinks you don't care about your life."

Before Bucky could call bullshit on Steve—he had seen Steve leap from a plane without a parachute countless times both during the war and in the present—the words died in his mouth.

Tony, fucking Tony, had re-appeared fresh and clean from the shower, dressed in a tight black tank top that showed off the understated strength of his arms and dark grey sweatpants slung low on his hips. His hair, still wet from the shower, fell in messy waves as if he had recently run his hands through it.

"Buck? You still there?"

Tony put a finger to his lips as if to shush him.

Bucky wasn't sure what he was playing at, but judging by the smirk gracing Tony's features, he'd get a nice reward if he played along. Game on, then.

Bucky swallowed before saying, "Yeah, I'm here. Got distracted by the tv."

Tony's smirk turned into a full-blown grin, and the asshole strutted to where Bucky sat on the couch. How was it possible for someone to look that attractive in a tank top and sweatpants?

"Am I boring you, Barnes?" Steve asked with a teasing note in his voice.

"Of course not, Rogers," he replied. At the same time, his eyes greedily took in the sight of Tony's approaching form and found himself with a lapful of a tempting genius (not that Bucky was complaining). "What time do you think you'll make it back?"

"Hold on." There was a brief pause. "Around 2 am."

And of course, Tony decided that would be the perfect time to grind his hips down against Bucky. A small hiss escaped Bucky's mouth at the sudden but fleeting pleasure of friction against his groin.

"You okay, Buck?" Steve said, the playfulness from earlier leaving his tone only to be replaced with worry.

Tony grinned wickedly and repeated the action, his lean arms winding around Bucky's neck.

"Yeah, Stevie, I'm fine. Just stubbed my toe," he said, the lie coming quickly to him.

"It didn't sound like you stubbed your toe."

"Really," Bucky replied. "I'm fine. Just missing you," he said, his voice growing quieter at the end.

"Miss you, too, Buck," Steve replied, sounding forlorn even through the phone. "How's Bambi?"

At the mention of the moniker, Tony narrowed his eyes.

"Being a brat. Like usual."

"I'm not a brat," Tony muttered and leaned in to nuzzle at Bucky's neck.

Bucky closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He savored the feeling of Tony's mouth, soft and burning against his own skin.

"Is he there with you?"

Bucky had a hard time responding as Tony had decided that was the perfect time for his hands to wander. The genius' talented, nimble hands crept under Bucky's shirt, tracing lines along the muscled planes of his stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Tony pulled back from Bucky's neck and shook his head, his dark eyes wide and pleading.

"No," Bucky responded, playing along. His free hand settled on Tony's hip and squeezed. He smelled like Steve's body wash; pine and ocean brine. "He's shut up in his workshop."

Bucky could hear the fond exasperation in Steve's voice when he replied. "Of course, he is. Has he been sleeping? Eating?"

"Oh, I'm about to eat something," Tony said, earning a pinch on his ass from Bucky. The little yelp that escaped from Tony's mouth made Bucky grin.

Fear (and if he was being honest, a little bit of excitement) lanced through him, leaving him on edge; he had annoyed Tony, and Tony was going to retaliate. Bucky loved when Tony retaliated. Unbidden, his mind flashed to when he had been offered a scouting mission in Ukraine while in the middle of giving Tony a blowjob. Bucky had been ecstatic at the time, with it being one of the first missions SHIELD had cleared him for after his lengthy recovery post-HYDRA. In his excitement, though, he had left Tony in the dust. Luckily, he had a sweet and understanding boyfriend who had cuffed him to the bed when he got back and sucked Bucky off to his heart's content. That had been a good day.

"If you count motor-oil smoothies as food, then yes, he's been eating," Bucky said, eyeing Tony with a heated gaze as he slid off from his lap with all the grace of a panther and onto his knees.

The mere sight of Tony on his knees, looking up at Bucky from beneath his long, dark lashes, set his blood alight. The only way it could have been better was if Steve were right beside him.

Steve's sigh echoed in Bucky's ear. "As soon as I get home, I'm handcuffing him to the bed."

Had he been a more conscientious man, Bucky would have been ashamed at how much the thought of Tony tied up excited him. Instead, he was just horny; his cock had gone from semi-hard to full hardness in a matter of seconds, and his sweatpants erred on the side of just too tight. That familiar hot coil of arousal pooled in his groin.

As if he had read his mind, Tony's hands reached up and tugged at the waistband of Bucky's sweatpants.

"Something tells me that he'd like that, Stevie," Bucky said, his voice sounding a bit breathless to his own ears. He lifted his hips up just enough so Tony could work his pants down past his hips and to his thighs. Bucky damn near sighed in relief as his cock escaped the confines of his pants. "No boxers?" Tony mouthed, raising a brow.

Bucky shrugged. He liked to be comfortable, sue him.

"I didn't mean it like that, Buck," Steve said, although Bucky could hear the hint of interest in his voice.

"But Tony'd look so nice," Bucky replied, looking down at Tony. "All spread out like a centerfold." Tony's eyes were black as pitch as one of his hands encircled Bucky's cock. His grip was on the edge of too loose, making Bucky pulse with need in Tony's hands. "Oh fuck," he groaned. Pre-come beaded at the slit of his cock.

"Bucky…" Steve said, his voice a pitch or two lower. "Where's Tony right now? For real?"

Tony didn't turn his puppy dog eyes onto him like Bucky thought he would. Whatever game Steve wanted to play intrigued Tony more than the one they were already playing. He just stared at him, the picture of sweet innocence, his eyes wide and shining.

"On his knees," Bucky said. His eyes fluttered shut as Tony slowly, almost lazily, began to stroke his cock. "Bein' a fuckin' tease," he said, a bit of Brooklyn slipping into his words. His accent always made an appearance when he was horny. It drove Tony wild.

Bucky heard Steve's breath hitch and a rustling movement. "...Put me on speaker," Steve said, his voice louder than before.

Bucky's fingers fumbled with his phone in his excitement, but he managed. "Okay," he said. "You're on speaker."

"Tony? Baby, can you hear me?"

Tony visibly perked up at the sound of Steve's voice. "Loud and clear, Captain."

Steve sucked in a breath, and Bucky had to stifle a chuckle. He knew just how much Steve liked it when one of them pulled rank on him in the bedroom. Not that Bucky was any better. One "sarge" from Tony or Steve had him dropping his pants then and there. "Good," Steve said. Something dark and delightfully dangerous drifted down Bucky's spine at the commanding tone in his voice; he loved when Steve used his Cap voice in bed. Or on the helicarrier. Or in the kitchen. Or—

"I want you to do me a favor," Steve continued, startling Bucky out of his revelry.

"Hmm," Tony said, his thumb swiping over the head of Bucky's cock, collecting some of the pre-come that had gathered there. A trill of pleasure ran down Bucky's spine. "Depends on what it is. I'm a little preoccupied."

"Preoccupied?"

"Building robots, giving blowjobs, the usual."

Steve chuckled. "Then, lucky for you, our interests align."

"Color me intrigued," Tony replied. "What have you got in mind, Captain?"

"You're playin' with Bucky, aren't you, baby?" Some of Brooklyn had slipped back into Steve as well.

"Yes," Tony said, his voice savoring the word. "He was being mean. So I decided to be mean back."

"Wasn't bein' mean," Bucky grumbled, but there was no heat in his words. "Just thought you looked cute is all. You shoulda seen him, Stevie. Head to toe covered in foam."

"DUM-E?"

"DUM-E," Bucky said in affirmation.

"It wasn't cute," Tony said, huffing. "I looked like I had a severe case of rabies."

"So, Bucky was bein' mean," Steve said.

"Don't take his side," Bucky interjected.

"I think I will, Buck."

Bucky couldn't decide whether or not he liked the dark note Steve's voice had taken on.

"Tell me what you've already done to Bucky, sweetheart," Steve said. "And I'll go from there."

"I ground on his lap," Tony said, his voice going low. "Got him all hot and hard the way he likes. Then I slid his pants down, Captain."

"No underwear, right?"

"None," Tony said.

"Fuckin' naughty, Buck."

"Don't pretend like you don't love it," Bucky drawled, unashamed. "Easy access, ain't it?"

"Keep goin', Tony."

"You should see him, Steve," Tony said. "He's so hard and ready for me, he's practically leaking."

Maybe Bucky should have been embarrassed, but he found it hard to be bashful when it was the truth. His boyfriends were hot; of course his body was going to react the way it did. And something...something about the wet, slick sound of Tony's hand pumping his cock just wound him up even more.

"Sounds like you got a head start. Here's what I want you to do for me. Are you listenin', baby?"

"Yes, sir."

It was the sir that got Bucky, his flesh hand wrapping around Tony's and forcing him to speed up his pace. A steady tangle of lust had built up inside of him, and fuck, he was ready to let it go.

"I want you to get FRIDAY to stream this to my phone."

Oh, fuck yes. Phone sex was always fun, but Steve watching them and ordering them around from the helicarrier where anyone could hear or see? It turned him on more than it probably should have.

Clint had always called the three of them exhibitionists after one too many unfortunate (for him anyway) times he had walked in on them macking on each other in public.

"Done," Tony said. "FRIDAY, if you please?"

"Already on it, boss," FRIDAY replied, and was that...was that embarrassment in her voice? Could she even feel embarrassment?

"Perfect," Steve said, bringing Bucky's mind away from the complications of the emotions of AI, and back to the present. "You two look fuckin' gorgeous."

"We'd look better with you here," Bucky said.

"Soon," Steve said. "Now, Tony, I want you to let go of Bucky's cock."

Bucky nearly let out a whine. "Stevie, I—"

"Aw, Buck, you look good when you're frustrated. Your cock's so fuckin' red."

"Because I need to fuckin' come."

"You'll come when I let you."

Tony, listening to Steve's orders (for once), let go of Bucky's cock although he looked wroth to do it.

Tony's eyes had glazed over, Steve's commands washing over him and sinking him into that special place that only Steve and Bucky could send him to.

"Kiss him," Steve said. His tone left no room for argument. "Shut him up, Tony."

Tony rose gracefully from his knees and reclaimed his proper place on Bucky's lap.

"You heard the man." Bucky swallowed, throat tight all of a sudden. "You gonna shut me up, doll?"

A wicked smile crossed Tony's face. "If you're quiet by the time I'm done with you, I'm obviously doing something wrong."

And with that, Tony leaned in. Bucky met him halfway, dropping his phone in the process, not that it mattered. Thanks to FRIDAY, Steve had a crystal clear view of them.

Bucky loved kissing Tony. It was one of his favorite things to do, right up there with bugging Sam, sparring with Natasha, and kissing Steve.

Tony kissed like he did everything else; without a care in the world. As if it came as naturally to him as breathing or blinking. He knew exactly when to spur on the kiss, pressing his lips incessantly against Bucky's, his hands reaching up to tug Bucky's hair from its bun. The tips of his hair brushed against his shoulders. He was in desperate need of a haircut, but he wasn't quite ready to let go of the way Tony's fingers carded through the silky strands.

Bucky broke the kiss briefly just to tug insistently at Tony's tank top. Tony complied, lifting his arms up. As soon as the tank was over his head and off, Bucky threw it behind him, not caring where it landed. They'd find it later.

Bucky's cock was harder than ever, all hot and slick with pre-come where it rested in between him and Tony's abs.

He wanted Tony to suck him down. He wanted to turn Tony over onto his knees and eat him out until he begged for mercy. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted.

Bucky slipped his tongue into Tony's mouth and sought out Tony's. They met with a hot slide of flesh against flesh. Tony tasted clean and minty, from his time in the shower. There was something behind the toothpaste as well, something that reminded him uniquely of Tony. Moaning into his mouth, Tony's clever fingers tugged at Bucky's hair until he growled and nipped Tony's lip in response. His hands slid up Tony's thighs, riding up until he was cupping Tony's ass in his hands. He squeezed and kneaded at Tony's ass exactly the way the genius liked it, rough, yet teasing, until Tony was practically whining.

"Enough playin' around," Steve's voice came from overhead. FRIDAY had probably wired it over once she had realized that there was no chance Bucky was going to pick his phone back up again. "Sweetheart, you know what to do."

Tony pulled away from Bucky's lips, a thin string of saliva connecting them. Bucky wanted to close the gap between them and kiss Tony until he was breathless some more, but Steve apparently had other plans. Other plans that Tony was aware of.

Tony kissed Bucky's nose, the corner of his mouth, working his way down until he was at Bucky's neck. Usually, Bucky and Steve were the ones to mark up Tony's neck, but he wasn't opposed to a little bit of role reversal. Especially when Tony would nip at his neck and soothe the mark by running his tongue over it. His heart drummed in his chest so loud, Bucky swore he could hear it, as Tony made his way down, down, down, until he was leaving marks at Bucky's collarbones.

"It's a shame these are going to be gone by morning," Tony murmured, his hands leaving Bucky's hair to pull at the edges of his tank top. Following his lead, Bucky let go of Tony's ass and lifted his arms above his head, his tank top quickly following.

"You'll just have to leave some more in the mornin'," Bucky said, his voice hoarse. Tony kissed his way down Bucky's chest, pausing to take one of his nipples into his mouth.

Tony was talented with his tongue, there was no doubt about that, as he worked Bucky over just as well as any machine down in his workshop. While his mouth worshipped one nipple, Tony lavished the other with attention with his (fucking wonderful) hands; he pinched and rolled Bucky's nipple, sending unfamiliar, yet welcome, sparks of pleasure down his chest and straight to his groin.

Tony made his way to the crux in between Bucky's thighs. The sight of the great, indomitable Tony Stark on his knees, lips red and kiss-swollen, pupils blown wide, and his dark, curling hair, made even more of a mess, did something to Bucky inside. Only he and Steve got to see Tony like this. Tony had chosen them, had granted them the gift of seeing him in such a vulnerable state. Equal parts love and lust swelled inside of him to the point of bursting. He hoped that this would be a sight that he would see until the end of his days. If there was an afterlife, for people like the likes of them, he wanted it to be exactly like this.

Bucky watched with bated breath as Tony pressed kisses to the muscles of his thighs until his mouth was hovering over his cock. Given the look of determination and longing in Tony's eyes, he half-expected him to give up their little game and take Bucky down to the base of his cock, but that wasn't the case. His genius was waiting for something. "Go ahead, sweetheart. Take him into your mouth," Steve said.

"Please, Tony," Bucky said, not even trying to hide the whine in his voice. Dignity was overrated when you were so close to coming.

A light pink tongue darted out and licked at the head of Bucky's cock, slowly, as if Tony were savoring the taste.

"All the way," Steve said, his voice a low growl at this point. He sounded just as wound up as Bucky.

Tony chuckled, his warm breath ghosting over Bucky's cock. Bucky shivered. His cock was flushed to the extreme, and damn near twitching. A steady stream of pre-come leaked from his slit, a droplet tracing a phantom trail all the way down to his balls.

"Since you asked so nicely," Tony teased and took the head of Bucky's cock into his mouth.

A groan escaped the lips of both Bucky and Steve, and Bucky just knew that the other man was probably stroking his own cock in some alcove on the helicarrier. Tony licked at the trail of pre-come, massaging Bucky's cock with his tongue from the head all the way to the base.

"That's it, Tony," Steve said. "Fuck, you look so good with a cock in that smart mouth of yours. Why don't you go ahead and touch yourself for us, hm?"

Tony reached down and worked his sweatpants down with one hand, the other too busy gripping Bucky's thigh as he bobbed his head. Bucky threw his head back against the couch, basking in the pleasure. His senses were under assault; Steve's wrecked voice, the tight, hot, wetness of Tony's mouth, the smell of sex and sweat, and Steve's body wash, all had him ready to burst in record time.

Tony moaned when his hand had settled into a nice rhythm, the vibrations traveling straight to Bucky's groin. His flesh hand settled on the base of Tony's neck and pushed him down until his nose was flush with Bucky's stomach.

"Fuck, yes," he hissed, his fingers knotting into Tony's hair.

"Go ahead and fuck his mouth, Buck," Steve said, all quick and breathless. "He can take it."

Tony moaned once more, and with that Bucky let go, bucking his hips upward into Tony's mouth. He nearly came apart when he hit Tony's throat because instead of gagging, Tony took him in stride and swallowed around him. So Bucky did it again. And again. And again. Because Tony took it so fucking well as if his purpose in life was to suck Bucky's cock like his life depended on it.

Bucky decided to chance it and look down at Tony. Tony was stroking his own dick slowly, intent on savoring the moment; he didn't have an out of this world libido like the likes of Bucky and Steve, who were good for three rounds at least in one night. God, Tony was...Tony was a fucking wreck; his pink lips stretched around the base of Bucky's dick, as spit dribbled from his mouth. His eyes shone like the pavement after a storm, all wet with unshed tears. It was the look of utter bliss in his black eyes that had Bucky coming with a curse on the tip of his tongue. Tony's lips stayed wrapped around him, swallowing his load with the kind of ease that only came with practice. Bucky pulled out of Tony's mouth, spent but still hard enough to cut diamonds. That first orgasm was enough to sate the burn of arousal in his mind. Now...now he was ready for the main course.

In one quick motion, Bucky leaned forward and seized Tony's face, pulling him into a searing kiss. Tony's gasp of surprise morphed into a moan once Bucky's tongue invaded his mouth. Fuck, he could taste himself on Tony's tongue. It shouldn't have turned him on as much as it did.

"Pants. Off. Now," he growled once the need for air won out against his arousal. "Or I'm rippin' 'em off."

"You sound a little worked up," Steve said. The amusement in his voice was audible.

"Oh, trust me, Rogers, as soon as you get back, you're gettin' the same treatment."

"Shakin' in my boots, Buck."

"Fuck you."

"When I get back," Steve shot back."Why don't you and Tony show me what I'm missin'? You heard him, sweetheart. Pants off."

"You've been all sorts of bossy today, Captain," Tony said but made quick work of his sweatpants, pushing them down the remainder of his legs and kicking them off.

"I don't hear you complainin'," Steve said. "As a matter of fact, I think you love it, Tones."

"What can I say?" Tony said, stalking closer to Bucky, limbs all loose and languid despite having been kneeling for a considerable amount of time. Sometimes Bucky was amazed at just how much Tony could take. "I'm a simple man with simple tastes."

Tony seated himself on Bucky's lap for what had to be the umpteenth time that night. Tony's skin burned against his. His hands seized Tony like he was going to vanish into thin air if he didn't have a hold on him. "I see a handsome super soldier, I take him for a ride." Tony ground down against Bucky's lap, their cocks bumping together, making both of them gasp.

The friction was dizzying, addictive, as Tony did it again and again until both of their cocks were smeared with pre-come. The slickness made it all the better. Bucky could have come just like that, spilling all over Tony's thighs. The only thing that stopped him was the thought of coming inside Tony instead.

"Lube," Bucky breathed before his need to rut against Tony distracted him.

"No need," Tony said.

His confusion must have shown because Tony took his hand and guided it down, down, down to the cleft of Tony's ass. When his fingers brushed over something hard, it left both him and Steve swearing; Tony had worked a plug into himself.

Growling, Bucky pressed on the plug, working it deeper into Tony until he cried out, his hands flying up to clutch at Bucky like his life depended on it.

"You fuckin' minx," he said. "I mean it, one of these days I'm gonna cuff you to the bed, doll, and I'm going to show you just how bossy Stevie and I can be."

"Later," Tony said, throwing him an earnest look that showed Bucky he meant it. "Right now, I just want you to fuck me. Come on, handsome, let's put on a good show for Steve."

"Come on, Buck," Steve jumped in. "I'm so close."

Saying nothing, Bucky instead worked the plug out of Tony, only to replace it with two of his fingers. Tony yelped at the sudden intrusion.

Bucky cursed; Tony was so already so hot and wet around his fingers. He didn't think he'd be able to last that long in Tony's ass. All the more reason to have a round two. He worked his fingers into Tony's entrance, withdrawing every time he came close to Tony's prostate. He savored every little whimper, every whine that fluttered forth from Tony's lips like it was the sweetest song he had ever heard.

"Not so fun on your end, is it?" he smirked.

"B-bastard!" Right at that moment, Bucky drove his fingers into Tony's hole and curled them into a come-hither motion that had Tony squealing.

"What was that, doll? Couldn't hear it over your whinin'."

"Bucky, please."

"What was that you said to Stevie earlier?" Bucky said, ignoring Tony's pleas. "I was bein' mean?"

"You're such an asshole," Tony said without any heat.

"Am I still bein' mean, Bambi?" Bucky said, stilling his fingers.

"Yes! Just fuck me already!"

Tired of teasing (for now at least), Bucky pulled his fingers out of Tony and wasted no time sinking his cock into the depths of Tony, condom be damned. It's not like they truly needed one in the first place with the serum eradicating any and all diseases for him and Steve. Tony had been strictly monogamous, ever since his relationship with Pepper. Gone were the days of the billionaire playboy version of Tony Stark. He could still fuck like one, though.

Tony was still tight around Bucky despite having the plug and Bucky's fingers up his ass. Bucky went slow for his sake, easing into him, inch by inch.

"Fucking hell," Tony said. "You're so fucking big, Sarge, I can hardly take it."

"You can," Bucky growled. "That hasn't stopped you before, baby." It took all of Bucky's willpower not to come the second he had entered Tony. He knew he wouldn't last long, given how long it had been since the last time they had fucked paired with the thorough teasing and blowjob he had received from Tony earlier. "Fuck, I missed seeing you like this. Tell me you got a good angle, Stevie."

"A fuckin' superb angle," Steve said, sounding as wild as Bucky felt. "You're splittin' him open, Buck. Now go ahead and fuck him. You know he can take it."

Bucky didn't mind following orders as long as Steve was the one giving them. Tony lifted his hips in compliance until just the tip of Bucky's cock was still inside of him. When Tony sunk back down, throwing his hips back, Bucky rocked into him, aiming for his prostate.

Tony's moan sounded like it was punched out of him by the force of Bucky's thrust.

"Again," Steve ordered.

"Fuck, Steve," Tony whimpered. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"

"Not tryin' to kill you, sweetheart," Steve said. "I'm tryin' to make you feel alive. And Bucky's helpin' me, aren't you, Buck?"

"Damn right," Bucky said. He bucked his hips into Tony's at the end of his sentence. "Tryin' to light a fire inside you, doll."

"Is that so?" Tony's breath was warm against Bucky's ear, making the hairs on his neck stand up.

It was as if every nerve in Bucky's body had been set aflame. He was so hot. Sweat clung to his temples, slicking his skin.

Bucky's hands sought out Tony's ass as he began to thrust into him, keeping a steady pace. "Yes," he hissed when Tony started to rock his hips in time with Bucky. "You always make us feel good. Wanna make you feel good, too."

They had slipped into a steady rhythm, Bucky's hips working in tandem with Tony's like they were made for it. Bucky savored the little gasps and moans he could fuck out of Tony with each thrust of his hips. He even made it a little game for himself, switching the angle of his thrusts, slowing down or speeding up his pace, and seeing what other sounds he could get him to make. He especially loved the sound Tony made when Bucky's palm connected with the flesh of Tony's ass with a loud, satisfying smack. Tony dropped his head into the crook of Bucky's neck, his mouth pressing hot, wet kisses along the length of Bucky's throat. He refreshed the previous hickeys he had left earlier, and no doubt added a few new ones.

Bucky did it again, this time on Tony's thigh, the slap sounding loud and perfect to Bucky's ears.

"I'm gonna come," Steve ground out. "Fuck, I'm gonna come all over my fuckin' hands."

"Wish I was there," Tony keened, looking up from Bucky's neck. "I'd lick it off your fingers one by one."

"I know you would. You'd do fuckin' anything for me, sweetheart." The way Steve said it, Bucky knew it wasn't a question. Tony would do anything for Steve. And Steve would do anything for him.

"God, Cap, I want to come with you," Tony said, riding Bucky in earnest now. Bucky tilted his hips ever so slightly, and he was sliding deeper into Tony than he had ever been. Tony was full-on shouting now as his ass slapped against Bucky's thighs with each thrust. If the rest of the tower didn't know what they were doing before, they sure as hell knew now.

One hand leaving Tony's hips, he steered Tony's mouth toward his, slotting their mouths together in a sloppy, bruising kiss, if one could even call it that. With his other hand, he took Tony's leaking cock into his hands, jerking him with practiced ease, greedily swallowing each of Tony's moans. Tony came with a muffled shout, spilling wetly over Bucky's hands and thighs. Amid his ecstasy, Tony pulled at Bucky's hair, and that was it for him. He thrust upwards into Tony, relishing in the tight clenching heat of him, as electricity zipped through his veins. He spilled into Tony, nearly whimpering at the vice-like grip on his spent cock. His blood, his very soul, had been set alight.

Tony was the one who broke their feverish kiss; instead, he settled for light, loving pecks all over Bucky's face. A wave of exhaustion slammed into Bucky like a battering ram. His body was all loose and languid; he knew if he were to try to stand, he'd risk crumpling to his knees like a puppet. He held onto Tony and tried to catch his breath. His hair clung to the nape of his neck, damp with sweat.

"I love you," Bucky said. He pressed a sloppy kiss to Tony's temple.

"Can't talk," Tony mumbled. "I'm dead. You and Steve killed me." He hummed in content when Bucky started to card his fingers through his hair.

"I'm only 50 percent responsible," Steve chimed in. "I'm not even there."

"I know," Tony pouted. Bucky wanted to kiss it away. He wanted Steve to help him. "I wish I could just teleport you here. Actually—" Tony began to stir.

Bucky pulled the genius close to his chest, ignoring the mess of come and sweat that was swiftly starting to dry on their skin. They would just have to shower later, and Bucky never turned down a chance at a joint shower with one of his favorite men. "Oh no, you don't, boy wonder."

"I'm with Buck," Steve said. "I'll get there the old fashioned way."

"The old-fashioned way is boring. And slow. I need you here, yesterday, Cap. I need both my boys with me."

Something in Steve's voice softened. "I'll see if they can speed up the flight a bit."

"Thank you, Stevie," Bucky said. "It's been hell without you. Even just hearin' your voice has us going crazy."

"I've been thinkin', Bucky," Steve said. "We deserve a vacation. All three of us."

Tony hummed. "A vacation sounds nice. Somewhere warm. With a beach."

"Somewhere with a lot of culture, too," Bucky added. "Art galleries for Steve."

"And good food for you, Buck," Steve finished.

"I hear Barcelona is nice this time of year," Tony said.

"We can hash out the details when I get home," Steve said. "...And I missed you both, too. Why is it always so hard?"

"That's what she said," Tony said under his breath. Bucky flicked him on his ear, earning himself a patented Tony Stark Death Stare™.

"Quit being a dork," Bucky chided.

"Make me, Sarge."

"Stevie, I don't care if you fuckin' break the sound barrier speeding home. Hurry up and come home before I tie Tony up for real."

Steve's answering chuckle washed over him like a wave. "I'll try and make it for round two," he said.

"We'll be waiting," Tony said, and with that, the call was over all too soon. Immediately, Bucky was overcome with longing.

"I miss him, too," Tony said.

"At least he's comin' home early. That's all we can ask for, right?"

Tony shrugged. "If you had let me look into teleportation like I wanted to—"

"Absolutely not."

"You guys are no fun," Tony replied. "Leave it to me to fall in love with two crotchety old men."

"Crotchety, eh?" Bucky asked, rolling his hips, with fluid ease. Round two was looking more and more appealing.

Tony's breath hitched. "Okay. Here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna shower—"

"Together?"

"Of course," Tony said, not missing a beat. "Get each other all soapy and wet, and hopefully by the time we get out, Steve will be here. Then both of you can show me how young and virile you are."

"Then we plan our vacation?"

"Nap then, vacation planning."

"You're on, doll."

#stuckony #steve rogers #tony stark #james bucky barnes #nsfk #lemons #marvel #mcu #smut #imperialstark fic #imperialstark writing #my writing #my fic #stuckony fic #stuckony fanfic #stuckony fanfiction #stony #stucky #winteriron

53 notes · View notes

howrry · 5 years

Text

friendship bracelets, firecrackers, and far too much sunscreen

a/n: here it is! this was supposed to be a one shot but i got WAY too carried away with it so its a full blown fic now! i kept getting too immersed while writing it so if you’ve never been to summer camp... it’s gonna feel like you did after reading this. grab a snack kids cause this is a doozy

w/c: 13.1k holy sHIT

warnings: lotta smut, alcoholism

Your alarm jerked you awake at 7 am sharp, and when you shot up onto your elbows, the humidity of the morning air made your pillowcase stick to your cheek for a moment. Yuck. That's why you insisted on showering in the morning, since the sticky, hot air would make you sweat all night anyways. You popped your neck to release the tension that sleeping at a weird angle caused.

Mornings were so peaceful; if only you liked them. The air was a little thick, but the birds didn't seem to mind as they chirped and tweeted at the beautiful sun-shiny day.

"What craft are we doing this morning?" you grumbled to Kathia, another counselor who was getting up and stretching her arms. Of course you'd share a cabin with the biggest morning person you'd ever met.

"Leather crafts. Hammering designs into bracelets and luggage tags. Some of the older girls get to do belts since their hand eye coordination will help them finish quicker," Kathia explained, going into the sun salutation poses. The first morning you two had spent together, she claimed it's how she stayed flexible even after quitting cheer. You weren't sure how some yoga related to the strength to do flips, but she still impressed campers year after year with her refined tumbling skills.

"That doesn't seem too bad. You just have to make sure the little girls don't hammer their fingers into ground beef," you reasoned, getting out of bed and finding clothes to wear that day along with your shower caddy.

"Yeah, but it'll get boring after twenty minutes," Dani, your other cabinmate, complained. Dani hated mornings as much as Kathia loved them, and typically stayed in bed until the very last minute. It was quite common for her to show up to breakfast still in her pajamas, and sneak back into your cabin to change during the camp announcements.

"Not everything in life has to be wild and exciting, Dani," Kathia tsked while bent in half at the hips, with her head between her knees. "This camp is for the girls, not us."

"Kat is right," you agreed, pushing the screen door out to leave for the shower units. "Try to be in day clothes at breakfast, Dani, please?"

She barely made a noise before plopping back down into her pillow as the door swung behind you. You played some music on your phone, and the shuffle put on some old Arctic Monkeys. You tried to keep the volume low, since the camper cabins are not far from yours and you weren't exactly allowed to have phones around campers.

You hummed Knee Socks to yourself as you turned on the water, waiting for it to get warm. You'd gotten your shower routine down to a science, proving that the past few months of learning when to turn on the water and exactly which degree to turn the knob to for the ideal temperature had been worth it. Since you were the only person up and at 'em this morning you thought nothing of taking your musty t-shirt and shorts off, leaving you in your underwear in the shower units.

It wasn't the most exposed structure, since the whole thing was made of concrete. Concrete floor, concrete walls, concrete stalls between each shower and toilet. The only thing missing was a concrete ceiling, but it actually didn't have a ceiling at all; only a wire fence stretched over the top to keep out leaves and sticks from being blown into the showers. The toilets were covered by a tin roof, but if it rained during your shower, you were doubled soaked. And probably frozen.

Still waiting for the water heater to kick in, you danced along to the guitar solo in the song. You swayed your hips, banged your head, and spun around the concrete in your shower shoes until a big hand clasped over your mouth. You freaked the fuck out until the mystery person started shushing you and turned you around, revealing himself to be your boyfriend, Harry.

"Well, aren' you adorable. Dancin' around in your knickers to good ole Alex Turner. I quite like him m'self, but clearly not as much as you do," he teased, kissing your cheek and letting his hand fall off of your mouth.

"Shut up, you scared the hell out of me! What are you doing here anyways?" you asked, noticing how little he was actually dressed. He was only in red plaid boxers, looking honestly delicious with messy hair and still-tired puffy eyes.

His shoulders lifted to his cheeks and dropped. "Woke up a little earlier than my alarm and decided to surprise you."

You laughed hoarsely. "And surprise me you did. I nearly screamed."

"Well what 'm gonna do next is really gonna surprise you, then." Before you could ask when he meant by this, he grabbed you by the back of your head and yanked you into the shower you'd been warming up.

You gasped, choking on some shower water. "Harry! I'm in my underwear!" you sputtered stupidly, unsure of what to say.

"So what? Y'were gonna change into new ones anyways. We should make out," he decided, and frankly he was right. It was just water, and you should make out. It wasn't often that counselors had alone time, so you shrugged and tossed your arms around his neck and kissed his smiling mouth.

"Y/N? Are you up already?" a voice from outside the showers asked. You and Harry separated and you gasped softly when you realized the voice belonged to Cricket, the middle aged camp director who ruled with an iron fist.

"Uh, yeah!" you blurted, unsure of what to do. Harry awkwardly backed into the corner of the shower as you popped your head out of the curtain, trying to hide the fact that you still had a bra on. Cricket was brushing her teeth in the trough sink, orange hair pulled up out of her face into a bun.

"Morning, hon, I was heading back from getting the campers' mail and figured I'd brush my teeth real quick since I had my toiletries on me," she explained, wetting her toothbrush in the water.

You nodded and dove back into the shower to find Harry confusedly waving his arms around as if to ask what to do. There was no way to leave the shower units unnoticed until Cricket left, so Harry simply had to wait to make his escape.

You grinned. "Better finish this shower before I lose the hot water," you said aloud, as if you were talking to Cricket, but really you were playing a game with Harry. You popped the hooks on your bra open and shimmied your underwear down your legs, leaving you naked in front of your boyfriend.

"I know what you mean," Cricket responded around a toothbrush in her mouth. "You have to learn to love the cold water."

You seductively combed some shampoo through your hair before lathering yourself up with body wash, running your fingers over every square inch of your tanned body. Harry was watching in awe at this explicit dance you were performing for him, with the camp director not even fifteen feet away completely unaware of what was happening.

Soon you heard the sink shut off and Cricket spit out the toothpaste down the drain. "I'll see you at breakfast, Y/N dear!" she called before walking away.

When the crunch of the leaves under Cricket's footsteps subsided, Harry let out a breath. "You're a menace! How 'm I gonna walk back to m'cabin with a hard on like this?" he gestured to the obvious tent in his boxers.

You giggled, rinsing out the last of the shampoo in your hair and squeezing out the water. "Shame. You should've worn real pants. I think I can help you, though," you offered vaguely, making Harry perk up thinking about the possibility of a good morning handy. Instead, you twisted the shower knob all the way to the coldest setting and pointed it at the corner Harry was huddling into.

The shriek he unleashed when the freezing water touched his skin was unlike any other you had ever heard. You'd been a counselor at summer Camp Jalita for two years now and had heard the screams of girls who thought they were drowning, of girls who were actually drowning, girls who saw huge bugs and lizards and once an armadillo, girls who tripped and fell, and once a girl who thought her cabin was haunted because the wind was moving the canvas flaps that hung over the screens, but this one cry released by your grown ass boyfriend pierced your ears like a knife.

"Shhhh, quit it! We just avoided getting caught by Machiavelli herself and I don't want your sissy ass to get us busted now," you reprimanded, shutting off the water entirely so that the two of you could leave. You started to get dressed as he scampered away, with one less hard-on than he had five minutes ago.

Harry was one of two male counselors at your summer camp. The other male counselor was this nice, older gentleman named Paul, who was an expert at archery and taught classes to the campers. Harry was one of the lifeguards and taught swim lessons. The other counselors (all 15 or so), counselors-in-training, members of the general camp staff, and the director were women and had a certain responsibility, and it was expressly forbidden for a counselor to date other counselors, regardless of gender.

You were never clear on why this was a rule in the first place, but you couldn't have imagined it would be a problem when you applied to be a counselor a couple years ago. Until this summer, the camp had only hired Paul and female lifeguards, so the dating policy wasn't a problem for you. Then, one of the old lifeguards got engaged and then pregnant, they needed a replacement, and they hired Harry.

You met him at a meeting long before setting foot on the campgrounds that summer, in an air-conditioned office room in the city. It was almost as opposite from actual summer camp as one could get; the humidity controlled office, the hushed tones used, the blouses and slacks worn could never prepare a newcomer for what camp was like. Harry was the relaxed vibe in a building full of squares and you couldn't help but be attracted to him.

You were a little dazed the morning of that meeting, and accidentally followed Harry into a bathroom, not realizing that A) he wasn't a girl and B) that it was a solo bathroom that lacked stalls. When it dawned on you what you'd just done, you backed out of the room stammering out an apology, but Harry had thankfully found it much more amusing than embarrassing.

"I love the enthusiasm, darling, but I think I've got it from here m'self," he joked before closing the door. You were officially too mortified to pee and scampered back to the meeting room. Afterwards, he formally introduced himself as Harry and your relationship blossomed from there.

Except, again, dating was super duper not allowed. Cricket drilled it into your heads a million times during the meetings and during on-site orientation. But you and Harry persevered and had managed to sneak around the first five or six weeks of the summer without anyone catching on. It wasn't easy, but the two of you figured out ways to be subtly romantic and also found times to get busy.

As for being romantic, it was done in the fashion that anything you did for each other could be easily explained by normal events. Harry would leave you a beautiful wildflower on your pillow for you to find at the end of the day and you told your cabinmates you'd picked it yourself; you would slip a bag of his favorite kind of chip you'd swiped from the kitchen into his swim bag, and he acted like he'd known it was there the whole time. A few love letters here and there, some sneaking out at night to gaze at the beautiful stars, one too many joints shared at the riverbanks, and you had yourself a full-swinging summer romance.

As for getting it on... well, that took a bit more work. See, the cute little gifts and notes you leave for each other can be just in passing should one of you get caught. "Oh, did I drop that paper into Harry's bag? My mistake. No harm done, he's busy teaching little kids how to tread water." But sex, simply put, required both of you to be there. Two missing counselors to be accounted for rather than one.

Fortunately, there was one golden opportunity each week. New sets of campers and counselors-in-training cycled in week by week, arriving Sunday morning and departing the following Saturday evening, giving the counselors one night each week to themselves. The counselors were permitted to do whatever they wanted, so long as it wasn't dangerous or meant leaving the camp grounds.

So that gave you and Harry your time. You still weren't completely out of the woods, since the no-dating policy was still in effect even on counselor Saturdays, so the excuses for your locations basically got whackier and whackier throughout the summer. Once, you left the cabin at 10:30 pm, telling Dani and Kathia that you were going to find some glitter for an arts and crafts event you didn't have planned until Wednesday. By the time you got back with tangled hair and your underwear in your pocket, Kat was already asleep and Dani was too busy being high to even notice your return.

Harry was so passionate during sex. He was just naturally a really handsy guy and you chalked it up to him not being able to touch you at all during the day, but he was all over you when you were intimate. He kissed and bit and grabbed and stroked and pulled, anything to get a physical touch with you. It was always mind-blowing, and his giving-to-receiving ratio was unlike anyone else you'd met or had relations with.

He'd scampered out of your shower only minutes ago and you already missed him. You mozied your way back to your cabin where Kathia was also already dressed and Dani was practically dragging herself out of her bed.

"What was that scream from earlier? Did a camper see a snake or something?" Kat asked, sitting on her knees on your bed with two hair ties and a brush.

Dani plopped down on the bed in front of her, and you sat on the floor in front of Dani. The two girls behind you started braiding the hair of the girl in front of them, a system you three had been doing for weeks now. Kathia was too neurotic to wear her hair in any fashion other than a sleek ponytail and your fingers were too shaky and unskilled to properly French braid hair, thus the perfect set up was discovered.

You paused a little. Kat tended to be a bit of a rule-follower and you'd carefully kept the fact from even your cabin mates that you were dating Harry. "Nope, I just got in the shower a little too early and the cold water unlocked an ancestral scream from me." Not bad, you thought to yourself. You were never super great at holding a bluff... but you'd gotten better over the summer.

Kathia made a little noise. "Weird, you're usually pretty good at that." She breathed for a moment while braiding back Dani's wavy hair. "Oh, well. I guess it's a good way to wake up. What do you think they're gonna be serving for breakfast?"

***

After eating breakfast tacos, cleaning up the Great Hall where the camp eats every meal, and going over camp announcements, it was over to the art pavilion. You spent the day demonstrating wetting the leather, hammering in the designs, and chatting with your counselors-in-training about you were going to do later in the day.

Your group of girls this week consisted of ladies age 13-15, which was your personal favorite age group. They were too young to be edgy and mean, too old to be crybabies about everything that wasn't perfect or what they were used to, and they were really, really funny. And frankly, the more freedom you gave the girls, the more likely they were to listen to you. The camp understood this and gave the older girls the least strict schedule of all the campers. So long as you made it to each meal and were in bed at a godly hour, you were pretty much free to do whatever you wanted for the remaining time during the week.

"I was thinking of tubing," one of the CITs suggested. "When I put up the poles after fishing, I saw the storage unit was full of these industrial sized tubes. Wouldn't it be fun to float the river on our last day here?" she gushed.

"That's not a bad idea. I'd need to make sure no one is fishing today," you thought aloud, scratching your head and trying to avoid the braids becoming loose. It was finally Saturday and the campers were kind of bummed that they had to leave that evening anyways, so maybe this was just the thing to lift their spirits. "Oh, and I'd need a lifeguard." Your finger shot out towards the CIT who'd suggested it. "After crafts, you're excused to go find me a lifeguard to accompany us. We'll probably tube backwards since the river doesn't move super fast and we get less exercise if we just sit in a tube and float." The girls nodded together in agreement, excited that they now had an excuse to wear their cute bikinis they'd packed.

See, that's how you remained off the radar with Harry. If the CIT just happened to pick him for the tubing, that's nobody's fault except chance. If he'd been your first pick, some alarm bells were bound to go off in the heads of other counselors and CITs.

"Could we ask Kathia's group to join us?" another CIT asked. "They're the same age as us and I don't think they have any plans either."

"Great idea! Hand me the walkie so I can ring her up," you ordered, pointing to the walkie talkie on the table next to the first CIT. "Tubing party later today!" you announced to your campers, who also cheered at the fun final adventure.

When everyone was waiting down at the riverbanks later that day holding their big tubes, Harry strolled down wearing a tan fishing hat, bright orange swim trunks, and a ridiculous amount of white sunscreen slathered on his nose. Black sunglasses sat on the brim of his hat and a red whistle hung around his neck, resting daintily between his chest muscles. If the campers weren't so intimidated by his size and attractiveness, they probably would've laughed at him.

The group felt no need to waste time and immediately started their way up the river. Some girls sat in their tubes and paddled their way upstream, while some girls planned to drag another and switch off who got to sat in the tube. Kathia ran a timer on her watch to tell girls when to trade places. Harry carried one girl in his tube at a time and some campers were practically tripping over the river rocks to get to be the one H pulled. He played this game with some of the girls where he would yank the rope attached to the tube until it slipped out from under the camper and she dropped into the river. They would come up laughing and squealing until Kat reprimanded him.

"Aren't you supposed to be the lifeguard?" she prodded jokingly. "Some girl is gonna get a concussion from that."

Harry sighed. "All you do is nag, Kathia dear. That's why Y/N is my favorite counselor." He nodded his head over to the side where you were pulling a girl using a camp brochure as a fan. You stuck your tongue out.

Kat feigned being insulted. "Hey! You can't have a favorite counselor!"

"Relax," he waved a hand to deflect Kathia's words. "Watch this." Harry turned to the group of girls in tubes. "Raise your hand if Kathia is your favorite counselor." A majority of the hands shot up. "Raise your hand if Y/N is your favorite counselor." Another majority of hands lifted, and Harry winked to both of you. "Now... raise your hand if I'm your favorite counselor." Every single one of the hands raised, including yours, Kat's, and Harry's. He always was quite the narcissist. "See ladies? Favorite counselor isn't a person; it's a tier."

Your group finally reached the end of the tubing trip, since the point of the river furthest north was at the Great Hall and it was already in sight. Everyone started dragging their tubes out of the water to carry back to the storage unit. You put your tube in the unit last, and when you turned to go back to your group, Harry slapped your ass on the way out. He'd been holding the door and probably waited for the opportunity to do that. You tried to glare at him but he had such an excited grin you couldn't even pretend to stay mad at him.

By this point, the group was grouchy from either having to wash off the river water with a garden hose, excess sun exposure, or both, so Harry decided to cheer everyone up. "Hey, when everyone's changed and back from their cabins, how about we all have some ice cream?" he suggested when the group was huddled in their towels outside Great Hall, and their general mood instantly lifted. He leaned to you and whispered, "I bought a ton of weed from one of the cooks, so I get special food privileges. Gotta learn to network." He clicked his tongue and shot a finger gun at you, making you roll your eyes and laugh.

***

Saying goodbye to your campers each week was hard and didn't get easier no matter how long the summer went on. You got seven days of living with strangers and by the time they leave, they're like ten new sisters that you'll never see again. The campers would start to look up to you and they'd be just as bummed as you. If it weren't for their faces brightening when they saw their parents or older siblings arriving to pick them up, you'd think it wasn't worth it.

When the last girl was picked up, the sun was already setting. The lifeguards began slathering aloe vera on each other's shoulders, the cooks were lugging boxes of food for the week into the kitchen, and the remaining counselors were drawing broken toothpicks to see who got to use the washing machines first. You, however, were plotting your escape to Harry's cabin for that night.

When Dani and Kat weren't around to see, you kicked out a path leading up to your cabin so your feet wouldn't crunch the leaves. You sprayed a coat of sunscreen onto the spring that pulled the door shut so that it wouldn't creak. Some trial and error led you to learn that the humid air only allowed this to work for about 12 hours until the sunscreen melted off, so you did this as late as possible.

Harry also took some precautions. The frames that the mattresses sat on were super old and made a ton of noise when you two were, you know, on it, so he dragged it (with the sheets and blankets and pillows still on it) down to the ground. Concrete floors can't squeak when you're getting fucked into it. Fortunately, since he was a guy and the other lifeguards were girls, he got his own cabin to stay in, so cabin mates were one less factor to worry about on his end.

When you arrived at his cabin that night, you used your special knock that you two agreed on to eliminate Harry opening the door in his underwear when it was really Cricket or Paul or even worse, a lost camper. H opened the door wearing shorts that rode low on his hips and an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt draped over his shoulders.

"Hey, princess," he murmured, pulling you into his cabin and kissing you.

"Morning, babe," you joked. "Has it been lonely waiting for me all by yourself?"

He took two steps backwards and sat back, landing with a thump on the mattress. His arms shot back and he balanced himself by leaning on his palms. "Terribly so. Almost thought you weren't comin'."

You followed him down onto the mattress. "As if I would skip out on this." Harry scooted back and you climbed over him, straddling his hips. You already could feel his semi pressing against your core-- only a few thin layers separated you two.

Even the slight pressure of him brushing up against your center had soft gasps slipping from your lips, and Harry's first two fingers slipped between them. "Haven't even done anything yet and 've already got you whimperin'. Don't think I'll ever get over how responsive yeh are."

You giggled, or at least as much as you could with two fingers in your mouth. Your eyes fluttered shut as your lips closed around him and you sucked gently, making him twitch beneath you.

"Oh, you're playing dirty tonigh'," he noted, pulling his hand from your lips and flipping you over so that you were below him. He pulled your shirt off and licked at your now-exposed nipples. A wandering hand of his discovered that you were soaking wet. "M'so glad you make it easy for me, pet." He flipped you onto your stomach and yanked your shorts down, giving him easy access to slip his cock into you.

Having sex only once a week made it difficult to stay accustomed to his size. He wasn't like, a monster or anything, but he was bigger than average and having cabin mates eliminated the option of touching yourself. So every week, when you and Harry got together, he had to re-fuck you open to handle his width.

Before the burn from the stretching had quite subsided, Harry let his carnal side out and started pounding into your mercilessly, assaulting your delicate and sensitive walls. His fingernails dug into the soft skin above your hips and his balls slapped your clit, stimulating you from the inside out.

"Someday, I'm gonna fuck yeh in private, and I won' have to cover y'mouth. I wanna hear every moan, whimper, and gasp I can get out of yeh," he punctuated his statement by bottoming out all the way, the head of his cock pressing against that spongy spot inside you, and your jaw dropped open. Harry, thankfully, was quick and had a hand smacked against your mouth before any noise slipped out. "Bet it sounds like heaven when you get fucked hard."

You were getting close to coming really fast. At this point, Harry had one arm snaked around the front of your body pulling you as close to his chest as he could, and the other hand was clasped around your mouth, forcing you to pant through your nose as he fucked you harder and faster. You clenched your walls around his pulsing cock and he moaned into your ear, and you finally hit your peak. Harry followed soon after, pulling out and painting your back with thick white ropes.

After you both came down from your highs, Harry got to work cleaning you off and helping you get redressed. As much as the two of you would love to spend the whole night talking and cuddling and, y'know, having more sex, it was imperative that you go back to your cabin before anyone could notice you were missing.

"Love the glow you've got," Harry mused, leaning against the cabin wall and looking down at you laying on the mattress. "You're the most beautiful woman I reckon 've ever seen."

You sat up, tucking your knees to your chest and covering your face with your fingers. "Making me blush. I love you, Harry, but I've gotta get back to my cabin." You checked your watch. "T minus eight hours until we get new campers, and I haven't slept a wink yet."

Harry smirked. "I'd apologize but I know yeh enjoyed it." You stood up to leave, leaving a fat smacking kiss on your boyfriend's cheek. "I love y'too, babe, get back t'bed safely."

And off into the night you went.

***

The departure of your campers was obviously immediately followed by a new set of bright young faces ready to have the most fun week of their summer. When new girls checked in, they were separated by which counselor would be responsible for them during the week, all of which waited on the courtyard right outside Great Hall. As each camper joined your group, they sat in a circle with you talking about themselves.

"Y/N? Do you mind speaking with me for a moment?" a voice behind you called. It was Sydney, a girl your age who was essentially Cricket's right hand man.

Sydney had blonde hair with a thick dark chunk of roots on her whole head. Her jaw was unnaturally square and nose turned up, looking like one of the wicked stepsisters. She stood with her arms crossed above her camp shirt, pinning her lanyard to her body.

You wobbled to stand up and bounced over to her. "What's up?"

Her eyes dropped to your shoes, a pair of light blue Chacos strapped over your feet. "You're not supposed to be wearing those. The camp rulebook says close-toed shoes only on campgrounds."

Your hands found your hips and you narrowed your eyes. "Really? You mean, the rulebook that pretty clearly states that only campers have to wear close-toed shoes." God, this was such a stupid thing to be arguing over. Didn't Sydney have better things to be worrying about?

"You should at least try to set a good example for your girls," Sydney seethed.

"Just like you're doing with that beer breath before it's even noon?" you bit, not in the mood for such a petty argument. If she wanted smoke, she'd get smoke. Her face contorted a little, but you shut her up before she could retaliate. "Yeah, I thought so. Let me deal with my girls as I see fit, and I'll leave you to yours. Oh wait! You were deemed not responsible enough so now you're a jealous lapdog. Mind your own, Syd."

You trudged away from her and rejoined your group where they were all chatting about new movies they were gonna see when camp ended. "Hey girls!" you started, sitting back down. "So, who would play you in a movie about your life?"

***

The week rolled along without making much of an impression until smack halfway in the middle of it, when the day was so violent it demanded it left an impact on you.

That Wednesday, the sun was over-the-top vicious. The members and attendees of your camp were no strangers to hot and humid weather, but when the first sunburn was reported at the modest hour of 10 am, nobody complained when Cricket ordered for minimal sun exposure and forbade swimming until the temperature cooled back down.

The lifeguards were bored silly since their number one purpose became obsolete. Two of the lifeguards opted out of taking up any new responsibility, and spent the day washing their laundry in the counselor's quarters, playing Super Smash Bros in the office building, and enjoying indoor weather wherever they could find it.

Harry was much too in love with the campers to shut himself in, however. He floated around the camp from group to group, joining in with the kids making crafts, cleaning up the campgrounds, and playing games. In fact, you didn't even see your wanderer boyfriend for most of the day anyways.

After lunch, everyone has a mandatory thirty minute "resting" time after eating. They claimed that it was to prevent campers getting stomach cramps while swimming or running around, but even as years went on and that myth was debunked, nobody really suggested the rule get thrown out since it was a half hour of just chilling and not having to work. (Plus today, one of the most sweltering of days, nobody was exactly itching to go run laps immediately after consuming tons of lasagna and garlic bread).

You were laying in bed during your rest hour, and most of your girls were in their cabins doing fuck-all. You chose to read, and picked one of your favorite books, The Duff.

Dani's girls were always really young, so she spent her rest hour getting her girls in bed for a nap. They were allowed a longer resting time since this was the time of day was the hottest (even on regular days when records weren't being broken), and them napping was better than them being out in the sun. Today, Kathia's group had the chore of cleaning up Great Hall after lunch, so you were in your cabin alone when someone knocked at the door.

"Come in," you called, and placed your book down holding your finger in the spot you left off at.

The door swung open to reveal one of your campers, a 13-year-old girl named Paige. "Hey, Y/N. I had a question." She stepped in and sat on one of the empty beds, pulling her Chaco-adorned feet up with her.

"Shoot."

"How mad would you be if we were out a little later than lights out tonight? We're older, so we're more responsible than the young girls, and we'll all be together so it's like ultra buddy system."

One of your eyebrows shot up. "Is that really what you're asking me?"

Suddenly the cabin door swung open, and Kathia entered. She yanked her ponytail out of its tie and immediately brushed it out with a comb, waving to Paige.

The camper sighed and dropped a dark piece of hair she'd been playing with. "Okay. I'll level with you. One of the girls in my cabin brought an iPad and never turned it in, and we wanna see if we can find the office's WiFi password to watch a music video that just came out."

You couldn't help but let out a laugh. "I have so much faith in the youth of today. When I was a camper here, I missed out on watching the music video for 5SOS's Amnesia."

Kathia chimed in. "I missed a Hoodie Allen concert with my friends. Not that I could've done anything about that."

"You liked Hoodie Allen?" you balked, making the blonde girl laugh and nod. "Anyways," you continued, turning back to Paige. "I'm proud of you guys solving problems together. What music video are you gonna watch, anyways?"

She looked down, almost embarrassedly. "Have you heard of Billie Eilish? It's one of hers."

"God, how old do you think I am?" you rolled your eyes. "But listen to me extremely carefully." Paige leaned in, gripping her ankle. "If you get caught, I'm 100% throwing you under the bus. Cricket will unleash hell upon you and your cabin, and I won't lose a blink of sleep over it. Am I clear? Do. Not. Get. Caught."

The camper nodded vigorously, jumped off the bed, saluted, and took off out of the cabin. Huh. You liked her style.

"I can't believe you let that slide," Kathia spoke up, plopping down onto her bed to enjoy what was left of her rest hour.

"Are you criticizing my parenting skills?" you asked, picking your book back up as Kat chuckled to herself and shook her head.

One problem with the camp was its lack of cell service. Even if you and Harry managed to check your phones without getting in trouble with camp staff, there isn't enough service for miles to communicate. So even now that you had an opportunity to see Harry tonight without disturbing your campers, the info would have to be relayed to him in person.

When your rest time finished up, you popped over to your girls' cabin and poked your head in.

"Hey ladies! I don't feel like planning out more stuff to do inside for the rest of the day. Does anyone object to just chilling in our cabins for an hour or so?" When this was met with silence, you continued, "Great! Will anyone back me up when I say one of my campers didn't feel well so we didn't plan any afternoon activities together?" Two girls raised their hands. "Our cup runneth over! Rock, paper, scissors for who gets to be my scapegoat and I'll catch y'all later!"

You practically skipped to Harry's cabin, but when you got close you slowed your roll to be conspicuous. You opened the door to find that he wasn't in there, so you made yourself at home on his bed, kicking your feet up on the bedpost and sniffing his pillow.

Your timing was golden, since H came back shortly after you got comfortable. "Well, I see you have no intention of moving," he noted, wiping sweat off his face with a white rag.

You sat up. "I'm not staying forever. Just wanted to let you know we should meet up tonight. Maybe... the abandoned cabins?"

Harry's head reared back a bit. The abandoned cabins were a grouping near the riverbanks that got destroyed in a flood. Fortunately, the flood happened when there were no camps in session, so no one was hurt. Some were rickety and damaged, some only had walls left, and some were nothing more than concrete slabs jutting out of the dirt. The bathroom structure was still standing but gutted, missing a roof and donning big padlocks on the toilet stall doors.

"Tha's a new spot. What made you think of it?" he questioned, grabbing a water bottle and taking a few drinks from it.

"Overheard a group at lunch talk about hiking near there and how eerie it was. I think sneaking around there would be exciting and... I don't know. Kind of sexy," you admitted, rolling your head to the side almost to hide your face.

"Now yeh're speaking my language," he chuckled, pointing a ringed finger at you. "I'll meet you tonight, then?"

"Yessir," you affirmed, jumping up to wrap your arms around his neck. "Did you have a fun day doing nothing?"

"Nothing?!" he cried, almost choking on his water. "I spent the whole day givin' girls piggy back rides. Being charming and fun and popular isn' always easy, Y/N." He kissed your forehead to show he was kidding, but you still rolled your eyes.

"You joke, but that kinda talk is in your nature, Styles," you poked, heading towards the door.

"'f tha's true, then you really can't be mad at me for it, huh?" A little dimple popped out at the corner of his smile and he held his arms out in a lazy shrug.

"Watch me," you winked, and shut the door behind you.

God, the rest of the day crawled on painfully. The indoor rule which stretched until just before dinner, and after dinner the whole rest of the day is automatically planned out through Taps, camp announcements, evening games, and lights-out. Your options when it came to activities were pretty limited, so you spent the remaining hours before the last meal letting the girls check out the library that was adjacent to the Great Hall. Of course, the books hadn't been updated since 1996 and the 14 inch TV didn't have any cables to plug into the walls, so that day honestly kinda sucked.

Your girls had good spirit, though, and honestly seemed kind of excited for their own risky night they planned ahead. You wondered which out of the set you got that week were going to sneak out and which ones were gonna stay back and hold down the fort. Paige seemed like exactly the type to stage this kind of rebellion. Whatever.

So that evening, you waited on your bed, wringing your hands in anticipation. Dani was exhausted from her long day wrangling kiddies, and Kathia was always in bed early anyways. Before you knew it, you were the only awake person left in your cabin and had to patiently wait to leave so that you wouldn't be waiting on Harry.

Even with your worrying, you still overshot your departure and were left to kill time before he got there. Which cabin would you two go in? Only two had a roof left, and one of them literally shifted in place when you pulled on the door handle. The alternative was totally missing screens over the windows, and they appeared to have been cut out with a knife. Weird.

You heard the crunch of the leaves Harry was stepping on before he had any opportunity to scare you, so you quietly called him over to your cabin of choice.

"Well, hello there, beautiful," H flirted when he got to you, pulling you into his arms and spinning the two of you around. "You come 'ere often?"

You squealed a little before he steadied you again. "No, actually, this is my first time. Care to show me around?"

"Nope," he responded. "Was a hike getting here. Let's sit." He plopped down to the concrete floor and pulled you onto his lap, lazily tossing an arm around your waist and pressing kisses to the spot where your neck met your shoulders.

That was a sensitive spot for you, and you let your head roll to expose more skin for Harry to kiss and your jaw hung open. His free hand snaked down into your shorts, petting around to get inside your underwear and feel your folds.

"Fuck," he groaned, "You're always ready for me. Are you always this ready to get fucked?" His fingers just barely dipped inside you, not even past the second knuckle.

You nodded, one hand flying back to grab his hair and pull on it. H always loved when you got a little rough with him despite your meek nature, and he moaned breathily as you tugged at his curls. He also shoved his fingers all the way inside you and hooked them to brush against your G spot. His calloused palm grinded against your clit and he bit at your jawline, ear, and neck.

The pumping motion of his fingers created this delicious wet noise, and that combined with the moans and gasps of you coming on his fingers did a great job of covering the footsteps of someone approaching the abandoned cabin.

Harry slipped his hand out of your shorts and brought his fingers up to your lips to suck them clean. You were just getting ready to hop off his lap and give him a quick blowie when you heard the unmistakeable crack of someone stepping on and breaking a branch.

You and Harry's heads snapped towards the outdoors and then back to each other, wordlessly deciding that it was time to get out of there and it was every man for himself.

Jumping up from the floor, you two simultaneously realize that the door was not an option and the only way out was through where the windows used to be. You scrambled over gracelessly (while Harry leaped, rolled on the ground, and took off like a bullet) due to your jelly legs and landed on your back in the leaves. Adrenaline made you shoot back standing, and you darted towards the faint sound of the running river.

In the dark, you struggled to find the path that ran alongside the river for the whole stretch of camp since you didn't have a phone or a flashlight to help you see. Eventually, the caliche-lined footway was under you and you slowly walked back to your cabin.

You were terrified, of course, but you didn't have any other choice. You'd never had a call that close before; how could this happen? Could someone else have known about your plan? If it were Cricket, she would've stopped the two of you, right?

Your legs were still pumping with adrenaline and carried you back to main camp in no time. You crept back into your cabin to find both of your roommates sleeping soundly.

Well. Guess there's nothing left to do but sleep and see what the next day would bring. You sure hoped Harry made it back safely as well.

The next morning, nobody acted weird. Kat did her stretches, Dani complained about having to teach elementary aged girls to tie-dye shirts later that day, the cooks barely paid attention to the girls they were giving food to, Harry merely shrugged to you when your eyes widened at him during breakfast, and the staff was just as boring and predictable as always. Nobody acted as if you or H were busted.

You decided to let yourself relax. Maybe it was one of the campers who went hiking near there the day before. Maybe they were looking for something and got lost. No harm, no foul. To ease your stressed mind, you told your group they were going to weave friendship bracelets that day. You hoped the repetitive and soothing motion would loosen the knot in your stomach.

Things were actually going quite great, until your walkie-talkie hissed alive. "Cricket to Y/N. Please come to my office A-S-A-P." Fuuuck.

You simply nodded to your CIT, who understood you had to go. The walk to the office was like heading to a slaughterhouse and you could barely even feel your legs. You imagined how badly this meeting could possibly go (which really wasn't a great idea. You were practically sweating buckets) and pushed the door to go inside.

The office building was a modest shack, with loud air conditioning and painted concrete floors and doors with that arm that shuts them behind you to keep the cool air from escaping. One half of the building was individual offices, while the other half was an open area with chairs, tables, and spare storage for decorations. Sydney sat at one of these tables and her nose wrinkled when she saw you.

Syd gestured to the hallway leading to the offices and you quietly opened the door to Cricket's office. The older redheaded woman glanced up from her computer and nodded at a chair, not saying anything for several moments after you sat down.

She finally took off her glasses and folded her hands on the desk. "Y/N, I needed to talk to you about something quite important that's come to my attention," Cricket began. Here it goes. Your stomach was already twisted up in fear.

Be cool, you thought to yourself. "Uh, what's going on?" you asked, just barely avoiding your voice cracking. You were sure your hands were still trembling, so you sat on them.

"We, at Jalita, greatly value our rules and regulations we've set in place for our counselors, as they directly reflect on the safety of our campers. A direct violation of these rules shows you just don't care about that safety." Man, Cricket was really laying into you. "This is, however, your first time breaking the rules..."

You couldn't keep it in anymore. "And I promise it'll be the last!" You weren't sure if saying that would do you any good at this point, but it had to be worth something to get that across.

"... I should hope so. I mean, letting your campers run around the grounds after lights out and take twenty-so cartons of orange juice?! Were they raised by wolves?" Wait. What? This is about the stupid orange juice cartons? You and Harry hadn't been caught? "You're quite lucky we accidentally over-ordered juice this month, and now our numbers even out, or you'd have some thirsty campers by the end of the summer."

So... Cricket was mad because your campers had stolen a bunch of OJ for their Billie Eilish watch party. You couldn't help but feel like Paige was behind this tomfoolery and were again intrigued by her style. You sucked a big breath in through your nose before speaking again. "I'm so sorry, Cricket. You're right. I-I should've kept a better eye on my campers and I won't let this happen again." Your hands folded in your lap, suddenly not shaking anymore.

"I'm very glad to hear that. And since, like I said, this is your first time getting in trouble, all's well that ends well. You're free to go, Miss Y/N. Don't let me see you in here again, but I will see you at the fireworks show tonight." Oh fuck, right, it was the Fourth of July and time for the annual fireworks show. Cricket slid her glasses back on her nose, pushed the sleeves of her cardigan up her forearms, and turned back to her laptop.

Thankful for your easy out and the opportunity to leave, you nodded curtly and bolted out the door and down the hallway, back in the office's main room. Sydney sat at a big table sorting sparklers into cups that would go on the tables during dinner before the fireworks show, and merely turned her nose up at you. The blast of the A/C unit felt like it was getting louder so you ran out the doors to the familiar heat and humidity.

The pressure was starting to crush you. Sneaking around, making out in closets, flirty notes, brief touches that left you wanting more, wanting more in general and not being able to have it, it was maddening! You wanted Harry, and you wanted all of him, and the summer wasn't over yet.

You knew that you probably should've gone back to your campers, but your CIT could handle them and you needed to see H. Where could he be? It was just before three o'clock, his last class of the day was the advanced class at 1:30, and it lasted an hour. Knowing Harry, he'd probably left immediately after to go take a shower and would be out by now, probably getting dressed in his room, so you went there first.

You threw open the door to his cabin without thinking to knock or otherwise announce yourself. Harry was in the middle of the room facing away from the door, one towel wrapped around his body riding dangerously low on his hips and another on his head to dry his hair. He spun around, shocked at the sudden intruder but quickly relaxed when he realized it was just you. "Hey, pet. I heard the radio, what did Cricket w--" he was cut off by you marching up and pulling him down to you for a kiss.

The chlorine smell lingered on his skin even after the shower, creeping up and burning your nose a little bit. The towel on his head fell to the floor as he grabbed your waist with damp hands. You popped off his mouth as quickly as you'd started, creating a juicy noise when you separated.

"We didn't get caught. Yet. She was chewing me out for something else I'd done." You plopped down onto his bed as he dropped the towel on his waist to put on boxers and shorts.

"Tha's good," he mumbled to himself as he pulled up his black shorts and tossed a hole-y t-shirt on. His hair was still dripping wet, but he just pushed it back out of his face before joining you on the bed.

"Yeah," you said emotionlessly and began picking at the threads of your white braided anklet.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "Wha's wrong? Figured yeh'd be leaping for joy at th'news." He grabbed the hand doing the picking and lifted it, softly kissing the knuckles.

"The pressure is killing me," you blurted all at once. "I'm so scared of getting in trouble, and I don't want to get kicked out of camp for this, but I really like you and I want to keep seeing you but holy shit I'm not used to this whole forbidden romance thing."

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before Harry let out an adorable giggle. "Oh, my God, tha' had to have been the cutest thing 've ever seen. You're such a doll." He leaned back on the palms of his hands amusedly, dimples popping out of his tanned cheeks.

"Not even you will take me seriously!" you cried, jumping up and heading to the door. Harry quickly followed you and grabbed your arm before you could leave his cabin.

"Whoa, there, kitten. Yeh can't leave right now, Paul's going back to his room after his 2:30 class. Can't have 'im seeing you leave m'cabin. " Sure enough, through a sliver of the window not covered by the canvas flaps, you saw Paul trudging back to his room with a bow strapped to his back. "N'I'm sorry I laughed. What would make you feel better about this? A second opinion? Just telling someone here what's going on? Have yeh even told anyone else about us?"

"No!" Your eyes narrowed to slits. "Why? Have you?"

He snorted. "Yeah, the only male counselor under 25 is dating another counselor, it'd be a great idea to tell a girl counselor, 'cause she certainly won't tell anyone el--"

"Okay, okay, damn, you've made your point," you interrupted, holding a hand to his chest. "What should I do then?"

He shrugged. "Do yeh think telling a trusted friend counselor about us would make yeh feel better?" His big hands rubbed up and down the sides of your arms, oddly enough calming you down. You nodded gently, looking up at him. He responded by kissing you again. "'m sorry we can't be more open, baby, yeh know I want t'be."

You rolled your shoulders back, making his hands drop back down to his sides. "I know, love. We gotta do what we can. I'll see you at the fireworks show." He could barely even wave to you before you fluttered out of his room back into campgrounds.

Who to talk to? You honestly couldn't even think of someone really worthy to tell this big secret to. Your mind went at a million miles an hour, but fortunately your legs did the thinking for you and took you in the direction of the art pavilion.

It had a giant sign over the main entrance with the words Dabbler's Den in yellow paint. As a camper, you once asked why it was named that, and allegedly it was to reference how many art forms you would dabble in while there. Today, apparently, was tie-dye t-shirts, since you found Kathia and a CIT demonstrating to her campers how to squeeze the bottles of runny dye onto their twisted-up and rubber banded t-shirts. While you were lucky enough to snag another older set of girls this week, this time Kat was stuck with 10-year-olds.

"Remember ladies," Kathia cheerfully announced to the group, not noticing your arrival. "When it comes to tie-dye, more is more when it comes to pigmentation, but be realistic about our dye budget!" The campers giggled at her joke and immediately started lunging for ketchup and mustard bottles filled with various colors.

"Kat? Can I talk to you in private for a sec?" you tapped the bubbly girl on the shoulder, making her whip around to face you.

"Sure," she agreed, taking the paint-smeared apron off and hanging it on a brass hook on the wall. "Sierra, make sure no one tries to drink the dye while I'm gone!"

Her CIT flashed a thumbs up, but one of the campers yelled, "We're not four years old, Miss Kathia!"

The Dabbler's Den was divided in half by a craft room in the middle, with a hallway leading to the back of the pavilion. There were steps to this section, and it was only used when the Den was double booked. It looked off into the river and was considerably more quiet than the other half.

"What's going on? What did Crick say?" Kat asked, already hopping onto the battered craft table with wide eyes.

"She got on my ass about letting my campers steal orange juice from the Great Hall. But... there's something else I have to tell you." Your lower belly suddenly filled with nervous energy, and your hands fiddled with each other.

Kathia's head lulled to one side. "What's up?"

"Harry and I are dating. We have been for months now, and I know it's not allowed, but I'm so scared of getting caught and keeping it to myself is absolutely killing me. I've never kept a secret of this magnitude before. I'm so scared Cricket is gonna find out, is my hair going gray? I think I'm barely twenty and already getting gray hairs." You punctuated your wild ramble with your fingers threading through your hair and tilting your whole head forward so Kat could see the strands and check for actual graying hairs.

"Y/N, calm down!" Kathia reassured, grabbing your shoulders and standing you back up. "I already knew."

"And I've been sneaking around for weeks trying to keep it on the down low but it's stressful! I've-- wait." You stopped for a good few seconds, reading Kat's face. It was like she was holding back a laugh. "You already knew," you deadpanned, unsure if it was a question or not.

"Yes, I did!" she affirmed, finally letting out that laugh. "I've been onto you for like two and a half weeks now. Do you think you're secretive? You always get the right shower temperature, Y/N." Kat shrugged and dropped her eyes to the ground for a moment. "When you just let Paige go off at night, I kinda got the idea that it was so you could have some fun of your own but I wasn't sure who with. I severely doubted it being Paul so unless you were gay this whole time, it had to be Harry. Before you snuck out, I pretended to be asleep and followed you to see if I was right and I may have seen something I shouldn't have."

Your eyes widened. "You were the one who caught us?!" Your hands flew up to cover your mouth before you could even stop them.

"Yes! I was as embarrassed as you were afraid, so I bolted to get back to the cabin before you did, but I think I woke up Cricket. I couldn't see super well so I knocked over a box that was by her window. Tell your campers I'm sorry about getting them busted."

You sighed in relief, placing a hand over your heart. "Wow. That's a huge weight off my chest. You're not gonna tell anyone, right? About Harry and me?"

Kathia shook her head. "I don't necessarily approve of it, but I like you. I won't rat you out to Cricket or anyone else here. That doesn't mean someone else won't find out though," she warned, wagging a finger at you. "So be careful. Speaking of your campers, what did you do about them sneaking out and getting caught by Crick?"

You picked at a cuticle. "I kinda... took the fall for it. Promised not to let it happen again."

Kathia shook her head, walking towards the stairs back up to the other side of Dabbler's. "You said you weren't gonna do that. Stand by your own word. Take control of your life, Y/N!" she called after you, grabbing her apron and tossing it back on. You wouldn't have admitted it then, but she was right. You remained speechless for a few moments before turning and going back to your bracelet-weaving campers.

As the evening approached, the weather cooled down, and the sky went a bright pink before darkening altogether, camp went into a frenzy to prepare for the show. Counselors wrangled up their girls and ensured they had towels to sit on and Cricket was occupying all walkie talkie traffic getting staff to move their cars off the field where the fireworks would be launched.

You were minding your own business once you got your more competent girls settled in, and just so happened to be caught in Crick's line of sight when you were looking for Harry just before the show was due to start.

"Y/N!" Cricket snapped, pointing at you.

"Ma'am?" you replied, halting in your tracks and turning to her.

"The show is supposed to begin soon and I haven't seen Sydney anywhere. She's the one who's in charge of the fireworks. Can you go find her? If you need me I'll be in my usual fireworks spot," she tapped the folding chair slung over her shoulder for good measure and went on her way.

Part of you wanted to let Sydney fail, to pretend to have looked for her and just let her be late and take the blame for herself, but you couldn't. Syd had never done anything specifically bad to you other than get on your ass about rules, so you went looking for her.

The first place you thought to try was her cabin, which was empty. Then you went to the office building where Cricket had reprimanded you just hours before. Thanks to the evening weather, when you opened the door, the air inside was actually cool enough to give you shivers and goosebumps.

There was a clattering from one of the storage closets (one you and H hadn't consummated in yet, for the record) and you terrifiedly approached the door. It could be a raccoon, or a small deer, or a huge conglomeration of evolved rats, or a sexual predator. Or... maybe not.

You turned the knob before jumping back, and Sydney bursted out from the closet, dropping to the ground and catching herself on her hands. The infectious reek that followed her out of the room and the clinking of obvious bottles behind her revealed that she was off-her-ass drunk. Sydney looked up through fluttered lashes, clearly amused at herself.

"Oops! How did I end up in the closet, I'm not even gay!" she slurred, giggling and hiccuping around her words.

"Sydney... what the fuck?" you blurted, unsure of what to do in this situation. Sure, you and Harry smoked a little on weekends. And maybe you weren't even supposed to be together in the first place... but you didn't get blackout drunk when you're supposed to be around campers! "You're supposed to be on firework duty in five minutes!" Yeah, as if that's still a viable option at this point. Real Mensa member over here.

"S'no big deal," Sydney countered, wobbling back up onto her feet, only to casually lean on a table. "Just point the lighter, put your right hand in, keep your shoulders straight, HEY MACARENA!" she yelled, echoing in the office building.

"Sydney! Pipe down! I've got to get you to bed, now," you decided while reaching for her, but she jerked away, suddenly angry.

"Don't *hic* touch me!" she coughed. "I don't have to *hic* do what you *hic* say! What are you gonna do? Tell on me? I'm sure once you do that, Cricket will love to know you've been fucking the lifeguard the whole time." She stamped her feet and crossed her arms like a child... like a child with a detrimental secret.

Your breath almost caught. "I don't know what you're talking about." You continued to try to sorta carry Sydney back to her cabin, and she was too drunk and angry to stop you this time.

You managed to guide the intoxicated girl back to her cabin and get her set up in her own bed. You placed a trashcan next to where her head was, poured a glass of water for her to drink when she woke up, and settled her body into the "recovery" position you'd learned in high school. Push them on their side, pull the top knee over to support the position, extend the bottom arm to keep from rolling over, and place the top arm under the chin to prevent choking on vomit. Before you knew it, Sydney was snoozing peacefully. You double checked that she was still breathing through at least one of her orifices (she was, all of them actually) and flipped off the light to her cabin.

What were you going to do about Sydney? She clearly knew about you and Harry and probably had been waiting for a good enough reason to let you know she was onto you. Was she just talking out of her ass, or would she really be willing to take you down with her unless you kept quiet about her drinking problem? You'd never been blackmailed before and frankly you thought that those gray hairs were starting to come in full swing.

No time to worry about that. You, obviously, were going to be late to the fireworks show, but then again, the girl who was in charge of it wasn't even going to be attending. All you had to do was find someone willing to cover for Sydney who wouldn't ask a bunch of questions about her whereabouts.

Paul was the obvious first choice-- you searched around for him and found him smoking a cigarette behind the nurse's office. He saw no problem in working the fireworks stand and didn't really care much about why Syd wasn't available anymore, so all you had to do now was find H and enjoy the light show.

When you finally found him, he was standing on the edge of the field between the campers and the pool holding what appeared to be a quilt. He was scanning around for you, and when he saw you his face lit up and you jogged over.

"What's with the blanket?" you asked breathlessly, pointing at the big red quilt folded up into his arms.

"Was thinkin' we could share it." Harry's hands weren't free to gesture, but he motioned with his chin towards the ground.

You smiled a tiny bit. "Okay. That's cute." You helped Harry unfold the blanket until it was fully opened and laid on the ground to his left.

The fireworks show was now officially overdue, but fortunately nobody had a watch or a phone that could tell them the difference between eight and eight oh five. The camp had a murmur of mild conversation and excited whispers draped over everyone, and it was completely silenced when the first rocket shot into the air.

As soon as the first firework popped and every head of every camper, counselor, and director was pointed up at the sky, Harry reached over to his right and grabbed the edge of the blanket, pulling it over both of your bodies, making a small cocoon of just the two of you. You were out in the open, and nobody was looking.

He gazed down at you like you were the most beautiful artwork he had ever seen, like you were the moon, like you were a fireworks show. He fluttered his eyes shut and so did you, and his lips were on yours.

Sparks were flying through your whole being at this intimate yet critically risky move. Making no noise was the hardest part, because even though the explosions and crowd were loud, there were moments of silence as the fireworks shot up... Silence that would shamelessly reveal the gasps and moans and kissing noises the two of you elicited from the other.

Finally, when the oxygen level got just low enough under the blanket that both of you tapped out, he lifted the quilt up and the two of you sat up and enjoyed the rest of the show, breathless and a little sweatier than everyone else there.

Harry looked at you instead of the sky. He was smiling at you, and when you looked down from the show to meet his gaze, his smile did that subtle change when a normal, closed-mouth smile gets bigger, as if he was too happy to keep his teeth hidden. It was like when you were around, there wasn't a face he could physically make to show how happy he was with you.

After the show, when all the campers were tucked away in their cabins, the counselors (except for Sydney, of course) gathered around the massive fire pit by the riverbanks. Harry brought his guitar and some of the cooks brought s'mores ingredients. The fire was lit up and some of y'all roasted marshmallows while the rest enjoyed the music.

One of the girls suggested singing Country Roads and at first everyone laughed, but when Harry started strumming it out softly, nobody could bring themselves to not sing along. Everyone swayed with full hearts as the fire danced up into the night sky.

"I wanna make a toast," Dani announced, standing up from the log she'd been sitting on. "I've been dealing with seemingly infinite young children for almost two months now in addition to one of the most uptight bosses I've ever had, and I once worked for someone who make you clock out to pee." The counselors laughed a little but died down as she continued. "But you know what keeps me going, week after week? You guys. Getting to have moments like this is what really makes summer memorable. That, and the really good garlic bread the kitchen has. Shoutout to Hannah." More laughter erupted as one of the cooks flipped her hair pridefully. "So yeah. I toast to my fellow counselors. May we all make it out without hurting a fellow counselor, a CIT, camper, or Cricket!"

Not everyone had a whole s'more or a water bottle, so the rest of us had to toast with a dry graham cracker. The resources were lackluster, but it was the words that counted and Dani nailed them.

The next day, when you were walking back from Dabbler's with your group, you got an unfortunate message from your hip.

Your walkie talkie crackled to life. "Cricket to Sydney and Y/N. My office, now."

You froze in place. "Ten-four," you muttered to yourself, not even reaching for the talkie. You barely nodded to your CIT before taking off in the direction of the office.

Sydney was already in Crick's office by the time you got there. The three of you stood in the room together in a triangle formation, and the air in the room was palpably tense with the sound of blood rushing in your ears getting louder and louder. Finally, Cricket spoke up with a simple question.

"Can someone explain to my why Paul was in charge of the fireworks yesterday?"

It was silent, and neither you nor Sydney were quite sure what to say. Not only did either of you want to tell the truth, but you also hated each other too much to construct a safe backup story to cover your asses.

Cricket continued. "Yesterday, I gave Sydney the job of setting off the fireworks, and Y/N the job of finding her before the show started. So... pray tell. Why did Paul ask me this morning where the leftover matches and sparklers go? I would've assumed that since I gave Sydney that job that she would've been the one asking me that." Her tone was condescending and drawn out, as if you were stupid.

"I guess I fell asleep," Sydney finally cooed. Oh my God. She was trying to pin this on you! "When I woke up it wasn't until after the show had ended! I must not have been woken up in time." Her eyes drifted over to you, as if you should be ashamed for letting this happen.

"What?!" you shrieked. "You were piss drunk when I found you! You couldn't open a door let alone handle fireworks! You're lucky I didn't leave your ass in the closet to puke all over yourself, and now you're turning me in as if I got you wasted and I didn't cover for you?!" By now you'd reached the breaking point and decided to really seal Sydney's fate. You marched over to the closet you'd discovered Sydney in and yanked the door open. Sure enough, the smell hadn't gone away and neither had the bottles that noisily rolled out. "How do you explain that? 'Cause I don't drink and I don't think Cricket's sauce of choice is a fucking Four Loko! Are you still drunk now? Can you even defend yourself?" you hissed. Earlier in the summer you probably would’ve let Sydney make whatever accusation she wanted and taken it in stride, but you were done. No more making excuses for other people and being a doormat.

Sydney's face flickered, devastated over her blown cover, but pushed on anyways. "At least I'm not a slut! You've been fooling around with Harry this whole summer!"

It's a pretty good thing your anger totally overwhelmed how bad you were at acting. "You fucking liar! You're making that up so you won't get busted even though you already have been. I don't even like Harry! He's loud and arrogant and narcissistic and irrespon--"

"Y/N, that's enough." Cricket finally chimed in, overwhelmed by what was going on. "Nobody likes being accused of things they didn't do, but it's not an excuse to insult Harry. If you have such a problem with him, take it up with him some other time," Cricket reprimanded, and it took so much in you not to burst out laughing. "And you, Sydney, should be embarrassed. Creating a rumor to deflect off your own alcoholism? At least use something believable next time." Crick rolled her eyes as she talked and Syd's jaw was practically on the floor. "I believe your time at Camp Jalita is over. Get your things packed by tonight or the camp board will hear about this and charges will be pressed."

Unable to do anything else, Sydney complied. When she'd left the room and slammed the door behind her, Cricket stepped forward and placed a hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry I had to call you in here for that. I figured something was up with Sydney and I knew she would lie to me. But you... you're the most trustworthy counselor here, and I thought you'd give me the truth. So thank you. You're free to go back to your girls and enjoy the rest of your week."

"Any time, Cricket," you replied with a smile. So maybe you were lying to her the whole summer and everything she knew about you was a swindle, but Crick's words still made your heart swell.

"Oh, and Y/N?" she called just before you made it outside. "You should really give Harry a chance. He's actually quite a nice boy if you get to know him!" Cricket offered, sitting down at her desk and slipping her glasses on.

You giggled. "Of course, ma'am, I'll try."

Since your campers were busy getting ready to go swimming, the only place you could think to go was back to your cabin. Dani and Kat were on the brunette's bed, poring over a tabloid Dani's mom sent to her through camp mail.

"Y/N? What's wrong? Why are you out of breath?" the girls asked, concerned over your distraught appearance.

You sat on your bed and sighed. "I just got Sydney fired."

Your cabin mates gasped, demanding to know the whole story. You went over every detail, from her chastising you since the beginning of the summer, to her drinking problem, to her blackmailing you, to the meeting you had only moments before.

"Wait, wait, what was she blackmailing you over?" Dani asked, brows furrowed. Oh, right-- she didn't know about you and H. You explained you and Harry's story including any detail you could remember, and by the end of it Dani was practically squealing in delight. "Oh my God! Y'all are so cute together! I should've known. You always get the right temperature in the shower, there had to have been someone else!" You and the other girls laughed together, and you finally felt something that you hadn't felt since before the summer started. You couldn't quite pin what it was, but it was the feeling of not having to hide anymore.

Acceptance? Safety? Freedom? Whatever it was, you wanted to bathe in that feeling forever.

***

With Sydney out of the picture and your two friends offering to cover up for you whenever they could, the remainder of your summer with Harry blew by without you even realizing it. Something else that happened without you realizing it was the two of you falling deeper and deeper in love than either could have fathomed.

Every year, at the end of the summer, the camp staff makes a huge banner to hang up in the Great Hall that every counselor that worked that year signed. There are banners dating back to the 80's, and every year had a certain theme. One was fall-themed and all the felt pieces signed by the counselors were orange and yellow and red leaves. One was rain-themed and the signed pieces were raindrops.

This summer it was art-themed. Each counselor was given a splat-shaped piece of felt to sign their name on. You, of course, demanded your favorite color, annoying the girl passing them out.

You took your time to write your name, carefully writing it in pencil first. You poured yourself a second cup of coffee that day in secret and painstakingly traced it out with a Sharpie. That evening, with caffeine still in your veins, you proudly showed it to Harry at the end of the day before Taps.

"'S beautiful, Y/N," he beamed. "Yeh've got magic hands."

You could feel your cheeks heat up even in the slightly chilly dusk weather. "Thanks, love."

"I was wondering if yeh'd want to... I don' know. Add something small? To commemorate our summer together?" he suggested, voice low.

Your eyes flickered up from the felt piece. "What did you have in mind?" you asked warily, not wanting to be completely obvious.

"A small seashell in one of the arms goin' off th'splat. It's an ancient symbol of love, and also was the symbol of Venus, the Roman goddess of love," he explained, his voice still low.

Your heart swelled at this sweet side of Harry. "Oh, my God, H," you said, matching his volume.

"Let's begin Taps, ladies and Harry and Paul!" Rachel, the camper leader, called. Everyone crossed their arms right over left and clasped hands with the person next to them, creating a giant intimate chain while everyone sung.

"I would love that," you whispered to Harry, dropping your head into the crook of his shoulder before singing, "Day is done..."

"Gone the sun..."

"From the lake, from the hills, from the sky..."

#Harry Styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles smut #majorharry #harryforvogue #haroldloverboy #jawllines #i hope you all enjoyed!! this is my pride and joy and baby so be nice to her #i'll make a master list eventually but I'm out i have an 8 am tomorrow PEACE

313 notes · View notes

devilbat · 6 years

Text

Game Show

@theoneanna requested #15 Tom Hiddleston x reader maybe also actress playing a game of James Corden show “spill your guts”

Warning ⚠️: fluff and implied smut

15 You can’t do that! - watch me!

I hope you liked it and I tried to get it the best to that game. I had never watched that till now lol.

“So this is how we play Spill your guts or fill your guts.” James Corden announced as you sat across from your costar Tom Hiddleston. You both just finished up a movie you did together and was now doing your press tours. Tom was in a stunning tailored Blue suit. ‘God did he make your inside all warm and wet.’ He definitely knew how to wear a suit. You had just a little black tea dress on. Not realizing you were going to be playing this game.

“You know, I would of worn better clothing attire if I known I was going to be playing this game.” You looked up to Tom with a smile. He chuckled as he watched you.

“What you didn’t get the memo.” Tom teased.

“Y/n, as long as you don’t puke you should be good. We can go get you a bib if you need it.” James chuckled.

“Bring it on.” You smirked.

“So this is what we have as our delicacy for tonight’s game.” James paused looking at the both of you as he started to move the Rotating table. “We have soy sauce Mayo shots. We have Turkey testicles, Bull penis.” You giggled.

“It’s smaller then I thought I figured it would be like reindeer penis.” Both Tom and James looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “What. I have been to Finland thank you.”

“Well I know what one we are starting of first with you Missy.” James smirked. “Over here we have scorpions, salmon smoothie, cod sperm and hot sauce.” You shock your head. “So here how this will work y/n, I’ll will be asking you questions. Y/n, you will be asking Tom a question and Tom you’ll be asking me questions. Now none of us have seen these questions before.” Both of you nodded. “What could go wrong.”

“Well a lot could go wrong if your a vegan.” You chuckled. “This is like a vegan nightmare.” Which got Tom to chuckle.

“So your name your up first, I’m going to give you to eat.” James looked around the table. “I think I’ll give you.. Bull penis.”

“Who, from best to worst was your favorite to do a love scene with. Tom Hiddleston.” You looked at Tom who look like he had a shit eating grin on his face. “Chris Evans, or Chis Pine. Oh and to make this even more interesting who would you like to have a real live love scene.” James Continued.

“Really, your killing me smalls. I can’t answer that. Oh god.” You looked at James then back to Tom who only smirked thinking you wouldn’t eat it. He watch as you picked up the interesting shape bull penis. Staring Tom down you popped it in your mouth. As you rolled it around in your mouth trying to get it down your throat. “God, I really hope someone has gum after this.” Mumble while the food sat there in your mouth. You tried hard not to gag.

“Darling are you going to swallow?” Tom winked at you. All you could do was flip him off. You grabbed the water and took a big swig off it. As the piece of food went down your throat. You stuck you tongue out in discuss.

“Wow. Most girls don’t swallow that one.” James snickered.

“That was I don’t know. Yuck.” You shudder.

“All right y/n time to ask Tom.” You looked at Tom with a devilish smirk.

“All right Tom let’s have you take, hmm let’s see.” You paused as you rotated the table back and forth. “You like fish and chips right, so let’s go with Cod sperm.” You smiled and winked at him.

“Your killing me here darling.” Tom sighed. As you set the line of food in front of him. You then grabbed the card that laid in front of you. It said as you read it to yourself. ‘How many times do you Masturbate? And when you masturbate what and who do you think about? Has it ever been one of your costars.’ Your eyes widened in shock you were not going to ask poor sweet Tom this. That and you didn’t want to know, okay maybe a little. But the public shouldn’t know. You could feel your face turn red.

“Y/n, love I’m waiting.” He cooed. You shook your head then then you got up reaching for the pasty, odd color stuff in a bowl that was in front of Tom. “Darling, **You can’t do that!”** Tom stated as he watched you.

“Watch me!” You said as you bobbed you head at him. As you licked the stuff out of the bowl. You face turned as the stuff coated your tongue. ‘Oh god maybe you should of asked Tom the question.’ You grabbed the bucket that was next to you as you spit it out. Your hair got into your face as you spit. And some of the stuff got into it. Then went for the water. Rinse your mouth and hair out. “Great, now I’m going to smell that the rest of this interview.” Tom looked like he was about to say something but you stoped him. “I was not going to ask that question. Sorry boys.”

“Oh now I wanted to know?” James asked. You rolled your eyes.

“Nope.” As you grabbed the card and put it down the top of your dress before either one could steal a look. The game continue as Tom asked James his question and he answered the question. You sat next to Tom as you both talked about the movie. Toms long legs occasionally brushing against you’re bare ones. After the interview you both smiled and waved at the crowd. As Tom and you walked back stage. Tom grabbed your elbow to stop you. You turned to look at Tom. It was just the two of you.

“Y/n Darling?” You looked into Tom stunning blue eyes. He looked nervous.

“Yes Tom?” You asked. Looking at him confused. His thumb started rubbing at your elbow. It felt nice. You got to admit he would be the one you would like to have a real life love scene.

“Would you like to..” Tom paused. As he licked his lips. They started to feel dry. “Like to maybe go it on a date? Not as costar.” You looked up at Tom. It was like the world had stopped you never thought he would ask you out. You nodded before you spoke.

“I would like that Tom.” You smiled at him. He was about to lean in to kiss you, but you stopped him with your hand. “I just had Cod sperm and Bull penis in my mouth your really want to kiss me after that.” You giggled.

“To be honest I wouldn’t of care.” He smiled. “But I would like to know what your question was?” You felt your face turn red again. As you pulled the card out of the side of your chest. As handed it to him. You took a step back so he could read it. As he read it he looked up at you with his cute little chuckle of his. A little pink touched his cheeks. He took a stepped towards you. “Not going to tell you how many times. But I can tell you that. Since day one of meeting you.” He whispered in your ear. “You may have been the one that was on my mind.” He kissed just right under your ear. The hole thing caused you to shiver. As he walked away from you. You turned as you watched him walk away. Shocked but enjoying the view.

“Darling are you coming?” He stood waiting for you. “I figured we could have a late dinner?” He smiled at you with the award winning smile.

@kitkatkl @lokilvrr @instantnoodlese @drakesfiance @meyoko10 @graveyard-groupie

#tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston #tom hiddelston imagine #tom #tom x reader

439 notes · View notes

le-petitmort · 5 years

Text

Ye olde smut time machine II

***Back in the day I wanted to prove I could write any genre of erotica. Of course, I did. Here's a tidbit of my take on a sadistic psycho dominatrix with multiple personality disorder. Enjoy. ***

He had a noticeably Estonian first name, with a surname which made me reminisce of a prodigious, departed stranger from a winter’s night tryst in Bruges. A marbled chest, of which The Louvre was unworthy and that smile. That smile which screamed “rape whistle, where are you!?” Inhibitions to the wayside in the name of conquest and danger.

Yet why worry? As always my trusty girl, the dagger of my dreams was by my side. “Baby Doll I love you.” No silly, it wasn’t this dusky manchild baying his affection in a not very subtle attempt to woo and conquer. It was Karo, La Karolina, adjusting unblemished eyeshadow before sliding my crimson tipped index and middle finger over each faultless framing brow. One soft luxuriant palm dropped to pat the pearl encrusted handle of the trusted dagger at my hip. ‘Baby doll, I love you.” A girl and her poniard should never be underestimated.

I had allowed my suitor to accompany me home. Coy moves along the way ensued. He would twirl me into his arms. A dip low enough for my highlighted tips to nearly touch the filth of the sidewalk below. Natch, you naughty boy. As much pleasure as you seem to take in your own personal grooming, treat the Goddess with respect. It was as if he could read my mind. Chiseled forearms steadied me back atop my stilettos.

Slam, I crushed him against the nearest brick wall. Looking into his filled with shock eyes I bit hard at his collarbone. An abrupt release of my incisors from his salty skin followed.“A love bite, lover.” No sense in being bashful, my mouth attacked his. Voracious, open mouthed seductions between two tongues. He was smitten. I was decisive.

Back at the Palais de Figaro I asked that he make himself comfortable. By comfortable I meant shirtless. I made my way towards the bar. One of those girlish saunters that sent the finest of my assets swaying for his delight. U’luvka vodka was in order. On the rocks. The humorous thing about U’luvka is that in my mother’s native tongue, Polish, it quite literally means legless. My head tipped in a ponderous moment. I wonder what this manly piece of cheesecake would look like legless?

Would it be like the odd little knight in the Monty Python movie. Filled with a false bravado as each limb separated from torso? Or would he succumb to his failure? Sobbing a mournful bale of regrettable sadness at his impending doom. Begging for his last breaths to be taken by the shiny, delicate blade of Baby Doll. Fuckwit.

Slim fingers silently searched into the bartop drawer, identifying an small folded envelope whose contents were emptied in a slight of hand motion into loverboy’s drink. Stir and prepared. I made the same coquettish steps back towards my new man, handing over his tumbler, then dropping to my knees.

I sipped at the glorious clear liquid while my free hand latched to his buckle. Chin lifting I urged, “Drink my lover. Pić oraz moją miłość.” A tender smile cracked before dropping my head to engulf the incessant growth of his virile manhood.

Some say it’s all in the wrist motion. That light twist and grasp as your head bobs ruby lips and porcelain teeth to graze past the coursing with blood veins of his shaft. There is the requisite gasp before beginning. “It’s so large Baby! Can I even fit it in my mouth? Oh my?” That’s right before you go deep, burying your nose into the musky essence of his mons pubis. For effect I will allow him the auditory pleasure of my gagging, as if I were a trashy porngraphic harlot. Yes, big boy. Roll your fingers through my hair, scrunching it, messing it up, ruining it, you indignant fuck.

I pull back, a faux heaving breath as the trail of my spittle dangles precarious like an Amazonian bridge in the wind from my pouted lower lip to bulbous head of his cock. Deft digits pump at the shaft, I go back to work, head jackhammering over his rigid molten shaft until my tresses cascade back like a winged phoenix behind me. Breathe. Assess.

There we go little boy. Those kind eyes are beginning to falter. Lids drooping like the shades of my bedroom window when the perv next door removes his trash, standing at the curb far too long for my liking. I give a shake of his once proud, now diminishing cock. A suitable result, enough to plaster a smirk to my face. I rise, towering between his spread legs as he falls faster towards slumber, arm stretch to swipe away the remains of his drink. Then I spit. Not once but twice. A projectile towards his weak shriveled wanker and one to his cheek. Lotharios are not made to be loved.

Used is their purpose. I watched his jaw draw slack and the first audible snores, throaty and masculine. Good enough for me. With my own drink now in hand I retired to the den, snatching the remote from the mahogany coffee table and tuning in the DVR for a marathon of Young and The Restless. Time was on my side. 1:14 AM.

Three hours of that inglorious bastard Victor Newman later I returned to my sweet prince. If a daily regimen of pilates, crossfit and yoga have done anything for me it’s made this slim, flexible body more than just a fuck toy. It’s made capable of taking care of any situation and more than capable of heaving twice my weight across lean shoulders for the fifty seven steps towards my pleasure room. Stilettos included, because no pain, no gain and balance training is unf.

My heart rate bumped a slight acceleration in what turned out to total fifty nine steps with this lumpy sack of potatoes slung over me. Was it lumpy or was it the cut definition of his rigid abdomen and toned like Adonis pectorals? Clinically speaking as a physician I must err towards the latter.

With a thud I dropped Mister Beef to the safety and comfort of the adjustable examination table. His jeans were thigh high like a lingerie on a Victoria's Secret model, easing my ability to yank them away for the proverbial toss to the corner out of sight. I liked him better this way. As he was brought into this world and how he, time and date dependent upon my mood, would depart from it.

The task of moving him into place went by with ease. I took time to marvel at his feet as I strapped them into the stirrups. Hairless with a crescent curve to the instep leading down to the display of his obvious penchant for pedicures. Pretty nails deserve to be painted. Twisting my head back towards the clock, 4:47 AM. Time enough to pretty up my pretty boy.

In all of my lust induced revelry I had failed to notice the one predominant trait of my newfound friend. Tattoos. Yuck. No rhyme or reason to them. Now, as an educated woman I understand we all have the right to choice. Yet, these. These were random with no story to tell other than possibly a bad decision on drunken night. I am an artist of pain. Preference is given to a clean canvas. Tonight I would take the sullied, and revile him further for poor choices. Whether he could hear me or not.

I sucked in a long, tedious breath through the nostrils of my perfect button nose. “Relax Karolina. Oddychać Karo.” My entertainment had yet to begin and already I was becoming a manic mess.

“He wants to enjoy your gift Karolina.” I walked beside my paramour, finger sweeping away errant hairs from his brow. “How serene you look my lover. At peace. Rested in wait for me to give myself to you.” I clutched each thick wrist in a firm hold, a brusk yank over his head to bind them encased in supple brown leather cuffs. “So pretty. So, so pretty my beautiful boy.”

Six o’clock came and went, the golden sun rising in the east as I stripped and adjourned to the sanctity of my poolside patio. Saturday morning meant Ashtanga yoga. Strenuous poses performed rapid fire between exhale and inhale. Vigorous and absolute focus like the steeled eye of a killer. Perspiration beaded upon my golden skin. Sensual drips sliding over me in a cascade as I bent myself into a fevered pitch. “Namaste Karolina. Namaste.”

Namaste is a word which I love because it has a rough English translation of “Bow to you.” I’ve never been known as one to bow but, I have a sincere appreciation for those who do. Bow to me, that is. My benevolent and guiding hand will lead them along their path. Is it towards righteousness? Hardly. I only deal in the sinners. The wanton. The divisive. The scum. “I, Karolina Figaro, born upon this earth of Italian and Polish heritage seek the guidance of our lord and savior in purging the earth of misdeeds until I take my last living breath. Amen.” I am a proponent of spirituality.

Spirituality and grooming. Mi amore would soon begin to awaken, becoming aware that our tryst to his delight would continue through the daylight hours. Lucky man. To have me catering to sexual needs. Bringing him hurtling toward crescendoed skyrockets of orgasmic bliss.

I cracked two eggs on the skillet waiting until they began to congeal and covered them to baste. A girl needs her protein and from dripped taste of my inamorato I needed a little something more. Breakfast complete I climbed the stairs to the bright lights and mirrors of my elegant white dressing room. A pop in the shower cooled my skin as I adjusted the jets, soon adjusting the water temperature higher until steam billowed at my feet, flowing lazy cloud-like circles above me. “Heaven. this must be heaven.” My mind clicked. “The time Karo. Damn it you insolent child. You have a visitor waiting!”

“Get ready girl. Get ready. Now ragazza stupida!” I could hear the stern voice of my childhood governess chiding me. I felt mortal, small, as weak and low as a meaningless insect. “Yes ma’am. I’m sorry ma’am.” I rushed ahead preparing myself and in the tradition of a fine Figaro woman, making myself a stunning display of feminity for my man. My man. I couldn’t even remember his name now. Just those god awful, disgusting gutter trash tattoos. Freak! You freak!

Penciling mascara around my luminous sapphire orbs brought me back on pointe. Babycakes was sure to be up, groggy no doubt but, awaiting me. I did the final preparations, sliding on only a pair of six inch Louboutins and flew towards the stairs. Hey, I needed the shoes. Don’t judge. Extra height, leverage, kinky fuckery. A man appreciates a lady in heels.

As I approached the room I slowed my pace. Stay confident Karolina. He’s going to love you. How can he not!? “You fucking whore bitch!” It was the first words uttered from his foul mouth in hours.

I felt hurt. troubled by his verbal lashing “Baby, is that any way to talk to me after all I’ve done to take care of you.” I rushed forward throwing my arms over his straining physique.

“Let me out of here you fucking cunt.” He screamed. That word. The C word resonating like the chime of a bell tower. It was cause for me to withdraw my earnest goodwill and tidings.

“Cunt? Did you call me a cunt you pathetic excuse for a mammal.” My hand cracked splintered pain across his cheek, a gob of my spit meteoric in travel towards his eye. “You sub-human piece of shit.”

Thankfully, my examination table is well stocked. I threw open a drawer, grabbed a ball gag, which in turn I jammed in his vulgar mouth. “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all darling.”

He truly did look like a Greek Olympian or Roman gladiator. Dark skin and solid muscles struggling against his restraints, fighting as if he were in a colosseum battling to the death. I could imagine him a victor valiant. A Goddess bestowing an olive frond upon his head. Then I remembered that he had called me a cunt in a not so nice tone.

“Time for your examination.” I sing songed the words just as I had when I was a lowly Johns Hopkins resident working with underprivileged pediatric patients. “Don’t you worry now lovely. Everything will be alright. Doctor Figaro is going to take wonderful care of you. Loving care.” Reaching into the still open drawer I slipped on a pair of latex gloves before grabbing a fresh tube of lubricant.

I gave my swain a benevolent smile hoping to subside his pain. “Don’t be embarrassed now. I’ve done this many time before.” The lube squirted onto my fingertip, thick and clear. “Let me warm it slightly.” Rolling it over my finger I felt the substance lighten then dropped my hand between his sinewy thighs.

Index pressing at the tight balloon knot between his bubbled buttocks, I began to circle clockwise. Urging, coaxing him to loosen. To not resist like a burdensome baby. I spoke with stern authority. “Let me slide it in. Do not make me force it.” I could feel his ass cheeks clamp together harder. Frustrating little shit. My free palm rose. Not one crack, not two, nor three. Five solid and crushing slaps to his limp little scrotum had Mister Gorgeous hearing my message loud and clear.

The barked order flew forth. “Push outward. It slides in easier if you push like you’re taking a shit. God! Everyone knows that idiot!” I grasped those reddened balls like low hanging grapes and twisted. “Stop being a little bitch. You want this as much as me.”

There it was. A slip past that first ringed muscle. Twirling my finger I began the process of loosening his insides as he groaned. “Delightful isn’t it?” I queried, accompanied by an eager smile. “There we go.” The digit slid deeper, his flaccid cock beginning to grow. “Mmm, you really do like it you naughty boy.” Loverboy’s hips jutted then instinctively clenched at my words. His bony hips lowering flat as an iron, in a thinly veiled attempt to subdue any further delving inside his virgin back door. It was time to help him find pleasure.

Grasping his excited tumescence, I began with languid strokes. Base to tip, insuring my thumb ran over that bundle of nerves under the head which would set his head spinning in sensual erotic craving. “There we go. Let it go. Let your hips rise to each stroke like you’re fucking my mouth. Close your eyes. Imagine us making sweet love in the ocean. Blissful waves crashing over us. Envision how you want to come inside me. Claim me. Make me yours.” His panting and engorged cock was the clue. He was soon to explode jets of his seed, like a fountain, spraying across that hot heaving six pack. “Stop!’ I quit pleasuring him and discontinued the enraptured loosening of his backside.

Sure that he wasn’t going to waste a drop I restarted on his ass. A withdrawal brought two fingers into play, scissoring his sphincter as he gasped in gratification. “Feels so good, doesn’t it? To get your boy pussy finger fucked? Do you want to be taken? Fucked?” the words were but a murmur from my lips. His consent evident in the higher, responsive thrusts.

I managed to step to the side of the table without missing a beat. Pulling from the drawer a heavy, black eight inch strap-on. I believe I heard an incessant no but, no means yes when you make love to a beautiful woman.

The harness slid up my slender, shapely legs. The same legs which many a man had worshipped and which would forcibly guide us towards a climactic denouement. Another squirt of lube and I tossed my soiled gloves, beginning to oil my own phallus before leaning forward to place it at his randy hole.

“Do you want to fuck baby?”

He shook his head vigorously.

“Do you want to get off?”

The shake continued.

“Let me pop that cherry and you can return the favor. Maybe. I’ll let you bathe me with that nasty tongue. Call your Daddy. Be your nasty little slut.”

Like that, the imagery of retaking his rightful place as a man overtook all thought process. My faux cock driving further into his milking, constrictive depths. His cock reacted to the prodding. That lightning bolt as the rubber thundered at his prostate. I could sense the tingle flashing throughout his body. That insidious, body enveloping way, much like hitting my own g-spot, which could make him squirt a cascade of his sinful juices. Withdrawal time.

I slipped back and held before pushing forward rhythmical. An insistent rocking motion as I latched to his hips. My pointy nails dug into the epidermis of his skin, ripping coarse gashes of pain that made his howls grow between the cosmic satisfaction of my downstrokes in his fiery little fuck hole. I was making him my decadent squirming bitch and he was all in. Hot.

My own salacious enjoyment could not be denied. Head falling, sweeps of hair a metronomic brush across my back. Feral moans emitted as I cupped my flushed perky tits providing a forceful twist to the coral pebbles. A storm of release was brewing. The sensation of touch like mind addling drugs to the overexcited nerves between my supple thighs.

“Say my name. Say Karolina. Say you want me to own your boy cunt.” I pounded harder.

“Say my name bitch. Say Karolina I adore. I love you Karolina. I am yours Karolina.” Nothing but tedious groans. Those tight nuts were back in hand in a nanosecond. Squeezing and caressing the fertile life out of them.

“No coming.” My eyes pierced through his. Into his cuckolded soul.

“Karolina.” I grunted guttural. “Say, you are my Goddess Karolina.”

And he did. Profusely exclaiming his assent to my commands with wide eyes and mumbled, gargling words. He was into our rite of passion. His body bucking, jerking on the edge of a stars shooting through the sky explosion of desire. Which is when I reached for the tray next to me, grabbed my beloved Baby doll, pressing down hard until his jugular bulged.

“Fuckwit.”

A sudden sound erupted behind me. Steel clanking a loud clatter as I became bathed in the glow of white light. My neck jerked, eyes hazy on the fevered edge of carnal obsession.

“Figaro..time for your lineup.” Those fucking dyke jailers. This dream was too good to be true. Oh, but soon. Soon enough I would be back on the street. Mommy said so. But, only the guilty do sleep in jail.

5 notes · View notes

neverland93 · 6 years

Text

Peter Pan imagine/ Mad Hatter

Hi! Can you do a readerxpan with the song Melanie Martinez -Mad Hatter? Add whatever you want: smut, violence.. whatever you feel like, I don’t mind.

Warnings smut, violence,cursing

You weren’t a bad kid, but you definitely weren’t good, you had your share in getting grounded and in deep trouble, but nothing ever too crazy.

You see you lived in a small town called StoryBrooke , living with your sister Emma Swan the savior was kinda irritating. She was always on you for anything and everything, you weren’t aloud to be out a certain time of day, you couldn’t wear a certain type of style , you couldn’t hang with certain types of people, you were trapped it felt like, so of course you were going to rebel ever so often.

“Y/n!” Emma yelled for you . “You’re going to be late for school!”

“Okay okay okay!” You ran down stairs in a crop top, jeans, and some boots.

“Where do you think you’re going ?” Emma said

“To school?” You almost questioned it

“Not like that.” She said

“Oh come on.” You said rolling your eyes

“Go back upstairs right now and change .” She said

“I’m going to be late!” You yelled back

Emma looked at Hook for advice

“Would you rather her be late or in that ?” Hook asked

As she was about to say anything the bus honked

“Saved by the bell! Well in this case, a horn.” You ran out and didn’t say an other word.

Going to school you had one motive , graduate . You hated school, you didn’t get bullied or anything, but you just hated it. Clicks would aline, teachers were mean, P.E sucked , food was terrible. It was just a bad time all around , yeah you had friends but you always felt like you didn’t belong, when you were there all you wanted to do was to be gone.

The only thing that helped was music , you loved music, when you felt like everything and everyone was against you music made you feel better. It didn’t matter what type it was , as long as you hear music you knew everything was going to be okay.

Going home you saw that Hook and Emma were waiting for you at the door.

“Uh, yes ? “ you asked

“You got a D , in P.E , a D!!” Emma said a little louder than she should

“I told you to just home school me.” You folded your arms

“You know I can’t do that kid” She said

“Yeah because you’re too busy being everyone’s precious hero aren’t you?” You said

“That’s enough.” Hook said

“No it is not enough!” You said

“If you would just stick your head out of your ass for a second and care about your sister maybe I wouldn’t get such low grades!” You yelled

“That’s it , you’re grounded.” Emma said

“ Stop trying to be mom you will never be mom!” You yelled

“Your sister took your phone and threw it , crashing it, no more music , no more leaving this world for a couple of minutes and entering a place with only music and yourself, your peace was gone.

“No! How , how could you?” You yelled

You ran , You ran til you couldn’t run anymore, running into Mr Gold he saw you were crying.

“Why the tears Dear?” He said

You sniffled “ My sister destroyed the only thing that mattered.”

“And that is ?” He asked smiling

“My phone, it had music, I would listen to it when I was sad, or feeling alone, now, it’s gone. Just like how I want to be right now.” You said

“Gone ?” He asked

“Yes, gone, forever.” You said

“I can , make that happen.” He said with a smile

“How ?” You asked with a little hesitation

“I could send you to another world.” He said

“Really?! Where ?” You asked

“Ah ah ah, all magic comes with a price dearie, are you sure you want to know ?” he said

“Yes , I’m sure.” You said

“I can send you to a place called Neverland, BUT on one condition, your life here , will be gone forever, any memory of you will be no more , of you ever wanted to come back, no one would remember you.”

You were a little scared “No one ? At all? “ You said

“Never again.” He said

You thought about it for a while , but you thought about how truly un happy you were here, and it wasn’t healthy for you , you needed to leave , even if it meant to leave something such as your sister behind. “I’ll do it.” You said

“Ah yes of course .” He said

“Now drink this , and in a few seconds , you will see.”

He hands you a vile with liquid in it.

“What’s this ?” You asked

“It’s your ticket out.” He smiled

You were hesitant, but you drank it , it tasted bitter but also like cherry syrup.

“Yuck.” You said , you suddenly felt dizzy , and then you fell, but you didn’t fall on the floor, you fell through it.

“Whoa!” You yelled

Falling into what appears to be a galexy hole , you could see the moon, the stars, the Milky Way, all of it.

You arrived on Neverland , feeling scared, but hey who wouldn’t ?

Walking through the woods you were a little nervous, not knowing what kind of people you would run into ,if they would like you , if you would have a home or sleep on the streets, it was intimidating.

Then , you hear a twig snap behind you , you quickly turn around

“Who’s that ?!” You yelled but there was no one , you looked a little more in that direction, looking to see if there was an animal in need or anything like that. There wasn’t.

You turn around and bump into something hard.

“Ouch.” You said , face to face with a chest of young man.

“What ?” You said looking up , it was, a boy. A cute one at that.

“Who are you ?” He asked , he had a British accent.

“Uhm , I uh I I -“ You were stuttering, He was so damn gorgeous.

“Are you going to talk or ?” He asked with a little attitude

“My name is Y/n .” You said quickly

“Who brought you here?” He asked

“I was sent here .” You said

“How ?” He asked

“You sure have a lot of questions .” You said

“Do not make me repeat myself.” He said angry

“Uhm by magic.” You were a little nervous now

“Magic ? You know magic ?” He asked

“No I took a potion to send me here , because I needed to run away.” You twiddled your fingers .”

He rolled his eyes

“Gosh we have enough people as it is, first the lost boys, then the Indians , then the mermaids, now you!” He said with an attitude

“Oh…” you said a little sad

“What do you have to offer? He asked

“Excuse me?” You asked

“You heard me.” He said

“ I - I don’t know I just ran away , I really have nothing.” You said

“Well , we will have to find out then won’t we ?” He said

Grabbing your arm he pulled you to the campsite where all the lost boys are.

“Hey let go!” You yelled but he didn’t , in fact he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you all the way over.

“You Asshole!” You yelled , kicked, scream, but eventually gave up.

You guys got close and he finally put you down.

“What the hell?!” You said

“Shh.” He said “These are the lost boys, lost boys, this is Y/N.”

“Hi” they all said at once , then went on doing their own thing.

“Who are they ?” You asked

“I literally jus told you.” He said annoyed

“You know what, there’s no need to be mean to me.” You said

“I’m king of this island and I can do whatever the hell I want.” He said

“Who died and made you king?” You said folding your arms

“Nobody died , I liked.” He said looking into your eyes , “So be careful what you say love.” He smiles in a wicked way.

You were in shock , not really knowing what to say.

Peter looked at you up and down, you didn’t say a word.

He then left you with the boys.

“So like, what are you doing here?” a boy asked

“I gave up my life style back at home and moved here, I was un happy.” you said

“Hmm.” he said then left

“Well it was nice talking to you too?” you said

Later on the night the festivities started.

One thing your learned very quickly from the boys ,they never walked, they ran, they ran like wild men, they had no manners, they fought over everything, they spit, they yelled, you wonder if this was a bad idea.

They ran to the dinner table, you were surprised at what they had, cookies, bread, soup,veggies, it was an interesting combination but you didn’t mind, you were hungry!

You ate and Peter sat next to you, watching you eat as he ate, it was intimidating.

“What are you doing?” you asked

“Whatever I want.” he said bluntly

“Could not be an ashole for two seconds?” you said

He laughed “No. Now eat your food.” he said

You ate it with him looking at you, you didn’t know but the sight of you licking your fingers, the way you licked your lips, it turned him on.

Later that night all the boys went to bed and it was just you and Peter

“Let’s go.” he said getting up from the campsite, pouring water on the fire.

“What why?” you said

“Did I say you could ask questions?” he said, you shook your head no.

Peter felt bad he was being an ass , you were an attractive young girl, but an ass was the only way he knew how to act towards anyone.

He took you to his cabin, it was huge,,beautiful, luxury cabin.

“Wow.” you said , its beautiful

He went to the shower, “ Do you want to take one first or should I?” he asked

“Oh uh, uhm.” you stuttered

“I guess I will.” he said as he took off his shirt. and enters the bathroom, he shuts the door and you were shocked.

His body was amazing, he was hot, of course, but honestly, he was still an asshole.

A couple of minutes go by and he comes out with only an towel.

“My clothes are in the dresser.” he said bluntly

Your eyes wonder and look at him, he gets a shirt and pants, and then goes back in the shower.

He comes out, and simply goes “Your turn.”

Showering in Peter’s bathroom was intriguing, all of his soaps , and smells, they smelled like mint and vanilla, there was a cinnamon one , you took that one, you put back on your clothes because you had only the ones on your back.

You went outside into the room.

“I only have these clothes…” you said

“I can get you others.”

He gets up from the bed and opens the dresser

“You have other clothes for girls?” you asked

“I have a big t shirt, deal with it okay?” he said

You nodded.

You changed into his shirt, it was soft and it smelled amazing.

You came out , no bra, no panties, just his shirt.

You go to his bed, and he gets off, he puts a blanket on the floor and lay down on his back.

“The bed is mine?” you asked

“Yeah.” he said

“Oh thank you.” he nodded

You stood awake in the late night, tossing and turning ,

Peter started to groan , almost whimper, it scared you, you sat and looked at him, he was still asleep, he was having a bad dream.

You tried to whisper his name but it only made it worse.

“Peter!” You yelled a little louder then he should he woke up and screamed , it was a terrifying scream. It scared the shit out of you .

You can see the fear in his eyes. “Are you okay ?” You asked

“I’m fine.” He said taking off his shirt , he was sweating, a lot, he looked stressed, like he barely slept.

“ Peter, whatever it is, I can help you.”

“There’s nothing you can do.” He looked at you

“I can help.” You said

“You see, I have nightmares too, what helps me is music .”You said

“Music ?”he asked

“Why yes , music is beautiful, it helps all kinds of people through their pains and sufferings. You see his flute and pick it up, “may I?” You asked

He nods

You play a song you made up when you were little , you didn’t know much about the flute but you tried your best, it wasn’t best and it wasn’t the most terrible thing.

At one point he even laughed because you played a note terribly wrong.

“Hey shut up I’m trying.” You laughed as well

“Thanks.” He looks ahead into nothing

“Peter are you okay ?” You asked

“ you wanna know why I made this island?” He said

You nodded your head and sat on the floor with him

“I’m not the best person, I’m was way worse than I am now. You see , when I first moved to this place I was wreckless, I still am . I hated everyone, everyone that was normal , that’s why you noticed every lost boy has a little something off about them, they’re crazy , I feel more sane when I’m with them.”

You nodded , letting him know to go on “I’m nuts, I’m mad, I’m the craziest thing you would ever see. People say I’m psycho , well, I probably am. I used to kill my lost boys, I would teach them how to fly, then I would throw rocks at them, make them fall into their death, sometimes into the ocean and let them drown. I would make the fairies my slaves , I would make them do the most disturbing things for me, I would poison the pirates with all types of stuff , I would laugh at how drunk I was the morning after getting wasted , I drink so much , I would black out and wouldn’t be up until it got dark the next day.”

You looked at him and shook your head , “ So, you’re crazy.” You asked

“ Yeah , I guess, we’ll I mean so what if I am? The best people are.” He said

You looked at his arms , his hands , they looked rough , like they haven’t been handled by a girl in so long . “Peter .” You looked at him He looked at you and he already know what you were thinking because he grabbed your chin and kissed you , you were taken back at first but you kissed him right back.

His lips were like velvet, they melted like chocolate into yours, he slowly rubbed your legs going more and more up your big shirt, you were getting nervous, but you would never show it

. Grabbing his hair you got a little moan out of him, he then went under your shirt and grabbed the inside of your thighs , You twitched a little bit, you never been handled like that before, he picked you up so that you sat on his lap, still on the floor you disconnected your lips from his , he looked at you “ Are you okay?” He asked so politely You nodded your head , “ Go on.” You smiled He grabbed your ass and lightly squeezed it , you loved it , moaning a little bit and feeling nervous about being loud because the lost boys would hear.

He then rubbed the top of your clit and you were slowly getting turned on , with his other hand he grabbed your boob and started to play with your nipple, flicking it and making it hard. He then lifted you up and lay you down on the bed , kissing your stomach and making his way to your thighs , he kissed your thighs so softly yet rough all at once , he kept getting closer to your clit , til he licked it and you gasped, it caught you off guard.

He started to eat you and you couldn’t help but make noises “Oh fuck.” You moaned He fingered you and ate you out all at once , it was a lot for your first time.

You were getting a little loud “Peter stopped and came up and kissed your forehead “Shh loves, the lost boys will hear.” He laughed, so hot. You nodded He began to take off his pants and his boxers It had to be at least 6 inches , You gulped loud “Peter.” You said “Do you not want to?” He asked “I’m a virgin…” You said “I’ll go slow okay ? If something hurts just tell me okay ?” You nodded, you didn’t understand he was being so sweet, it’s like sex changed him ,he was so much nicer.

He slowly entered you and you lost it. “OH FUCK.” You screamed At this point Peter didn’t even care , you felt so good. “You’re so damn tight.” He said He thrust in you and you just kept moaning, scratching his back as he left hickeys all over your body, but not to where the lost boys could see, he only wanted to see them. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear He kept asking if you were okay , he kept telling you how beautiful you were, he kept telling you that you were going to be okay.

He looked deep in your eyes and all you could do was just moan, you could barely speak, he left your breathless. He then took off your shirt and started to suck on your tits, licking and hitting on your nipple, he was so good at what he did . How the hell ? When the hell? It didn’t matter . He was amazing at it. He was getting close to cumming , and you were too. “Peter I’m gonna -“ “Me too just hold on a little longer love.” He said His thrust were getting sloppy and he was swearing up a storm.

You scratched his his back so hard , leaving marks and even drawing blood, he loved pain, it turned him on.

You then bit his neck and that’s when he lost it , he came in you and you came as well. Both moaned and yelled, he got off of you and lay on hi back , panting and breathing hard , looking at your and wondering what you were about.

He was curious, he liked you already. “What ?” You asked shyly He laughed “You’re crazy, just like me.” He said “ how ?” You asked a little curious “ you came on my island this morning and by tonight I have you naked in my bed.” He smiled wickedly “You got on top of him “And , so what if I’m crazy ? The best people are.”

352 notes · View notes