#bet you won’t see anyone else dressed up like that

[crying-pan420]

Rtc Halloween couple costume = Electricity

[roguelov]

Sleepless Night

Summary: Unable to sleep, you stumbled across Sanji at the back of the ship. A quick exchange, and some teasing remarks, a realization was made. Sanji hasn’t been with anyone, and you wanted to be his first

Word Count: ~ 4k

Reader: Afab (referred as love/sweetheart)

Warning: SMUT (oral (m!receiving and f!receiving), light exhibition (outside at night), voyeurism, inexperienced!Sanji)

Part 2

MINOR DNI/ 18+ ONLY

The late night breeze rippled across the obsidian glasslike sea. The ship, the Going Merry, was gently rocked like a baby in a cradle. The moon and stars glittered across the sky, guiding those to the land of dreams. It was a calm night, a peaceful night.

Yet, one soul was awake.

Sanji leaned his forearms on the railing, overlooking the sea staring off into the horizon. The sky and sea almost seamlessly blended together. A cigarette lazily hung from his fingertips. The salty water misted in the air, mixing with the light smoke. He brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply. The sweet nicotine swirled around, filling his chest. Tipping his head back, he exhaled slowly. His usually pristine suit was exchanged for sweatpants and a plain shirt. The chilly air nipped at his skin, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he welcomed it. Everything about tonight should lull a person to sleep, and have them running to be tucked nicely under the covers, yet he was wide awake.

The only one, or so he thought.

“You know those things can kill you.”

Sanji immediately smiled to himself. He laughed once, then glanced over to you. You strolled up beside him, sporting similar pajamas. Another sign you both should be asleep, you were dressed for it. You leaned your arms onto the railing, mimicking his stance.

“Is that so?” He quipped. “I’m sure a few won’t kill me before the Grand Line.”

“No,” you tilted your head in thought. “But, I might if I see you light another one.”

Sanji dipped his head, leaning in close to you. The smoke wafted off of him, a smell which always lingered around him. A smell which stirred such conflicting emotions in you. A devilish smirk danced over his lips. “Are you threatening me, sweetheart?”

You let out a bark of laughter and matched his smirk. “Definitely.”

You quickly snatched his cigarette then flicked it out into the sea. Sanji blinked, stunned for a moment. “I still had some left,” he mumbled, disappointedly. He shook his head, then smiled back at you. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You rolled your eyes, and bumped his hip, “So, why are you up so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep, you?”

“Same,” you sighed, leaning heavily into the railing. It was just one of those nights, your mind and body were at war with each other.

Sanji smirked, “Bet I could make you tired.”

You snorted, playing into this game of yours. “Yeah? Do you think you could keep up with me?”

“Oh! Well, look at you,” he chuckled. “I certainly will try. What do you say, love? Should we give it a go?”

This was your normal relationship with Sanji. The light teasing, the flirtatious comments; well, him more than you. Sanji’s silver tongue was far faster and sweeter than your own. Yet, you never thought it was nothing else but some simply fun.

Or you thought it was just for him.

Maybe it was because the two of you were alone, maybe it was because you knew you would probably just crawl back to your bed unable to sleep the rest of the night, maybe it was because he looked so unbelievably beautiful in the moonlight, you wanted to push it tonight. Normally, you would have dropped it by now. You would both laugh, and pretend nothing happened. Only for these same heart pounding scenarios to happen over and over.

Yet, a voice called out: your buried desires for the cook.

You wanted to test where the boundary in the sand was drawn between the two of you. Was it only games? Was there some truth behind his words? With the rest of the crew sleeping, you had to take your chance now.

Staring unwaveringly into his dazzling blue eyes, you said, “And if I say yes? What then?”

Sanji blinked, taken back. He opened his mouth and muttered utterly confused, “Wait, what?”

Don’t turn back now.

“I said -“

“No, no, I heard you. It’s just I, uh, I didn’t really expect you to ever answer with a yes.”

You cocked your head. Sanji’s smooth, wicked tongue was failing him. This was a side you never thought you would see, let alone a side he had. His words then replayed in your head, making you question a few things. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Sanji was handsome, sweet, kind, a great friend and cook. Only a fool would say no to him.

And a fool you were for a long time.

He licked his lips, glancing away. “I, uh, I don’t know -“ he fiddled with his hands, wishing desperately you didn’t toss away his cigarette - “I just never thought you would or if … if …”

His voice trailed off.

Your eyebrows knitted together. You stared more and more, watching him with confusion while he oddly retreated within himself. Under the moonlight, a faint blush dusted across his cheeks. His eyes widened, actively avoiding your gaze. He fidgeted in place, picking at his nails or part of the banister.

He was so nervous, so unlike him, almost as if -

Realization finally struck you.

“Oh - oh!” You twisted around to face him directly. There was no way to beat around the bush, you just had to ask him. “Sanji, have you ever been with anyone before?”

He tensed up at your question. You hit the nail square on the head. He sighed, dropping his shoulders. Was there any real point in hiding it now? “I may or may not have been busy with the Baratie and the old man, never had much time to myself.”

“Really?”

You would have never guessed. You would have assumed he had flings almost every night with the constant stream of customers. A new love, a new interest, with every ship that came in.

“Yes,” he groaned. Shame and embarrassment bubbled up inside of him. He may talk a big game, but he had nothing to back it up.

“Hey.” You gently rested your hand on his arm. His attention dropped to your hand then up to your kind face. “I’m not judging you, I don’t care honestly. I’m just surprised because you’re just so - so … flirty? Sauve? You’re just really good with your words.”

Even if he can be a bit cheesy at times.

Sanji laughed through his nose. “I find words are easier, sweetheart.”

You smiled at him, so endearing and sweet. His heart skipped at such a loving sight. “I don’t blame you, people can be a bit more complex,” you chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood.

He smiled softly in return, then glanced away. You both looked back out towards the sea. Sanji still naturally leaned into you, seeking out your warmth and comfort. Despite it all, nothing seemed to truly change. He was still Sanji, and you were still you.

Or so it seemed.

You, on the other hand, were now utterly restless. An idea was planted inside your head. One you couldn’t quite ignore. You bit your lip, nervously.

Where is the line? And do I dare keep pushing it?

“Sanji?”

He hummed, almost absentmindedly.

“Could … could I be your first?”

“What?” He whipped his head towards you.

“We don’t have to go all the way, I thought maybe I could just …”

How could you word this? You didn’t want to be harshly blunt and possibly frighten him.

“Just to start off small, I was thinking maybe I could … suck you off?”

You winced internally. That wasn’t entirely smooth. But, like you said, Sanji was better with words than you were.

He gulped, gawking at you. His quick fire mouth silenced for once. How could he say no? Why would he say no? To be his first, it was almost like a dream. Excited nerves sparked across his growing hot skin. His heart pounded feverishly in his chest, and he licked his lips trying to find his voice again.

“Are … are you sure?” He asked in a soft dazed whisper.

You smiled. “Sanji, I don’t mind but this is about you. Do you want this?”

“Yes,” he breathed out, without needing a second thought.

He wanted this, he wanted you. He wanted you the moment he saw you, but he never thought such fantasies could become reality.

“Good,” you whispered. You slowly sank to your knees in front of him.

“Out here?” He whispered out in surprise.

“Why not? Everyone else is asleep, and we’re at the back of the ship so no one should see us.”

His body buzzed. “Are you sure?”

You glanced up at him for a moment. Nerves were written so plainly all over his face. Maybe, this is a bit too much. “Sanji, we can go inside if you want. This is about you so -“

“Out here is good.”

You blinked, shocked by his quick change. “Are you sure? Because I want you to be comfortable.”

“Yeah,” he sighed then smiled. Honestly, the place didn’t matter. He just wanted you. But, out here on the deck, oh it sent a pleasant chill down his spine. “I’m sure, love.”

“Okay then,” you nodded.

You situated yourself, ensuring Sanji’s back leaned into the railing while you sat on your knees before him. Your hands skimmed up his thighs, just dipping your toe into the water. And yet, Sanji shook slightly under the simple touch.

“Relax, Sanji.”

“Sweetheart, I’m trying but - oh my god, you look so - so -“

Amazing. Beautiful. Stunning.

You peered up at him with adoration. Yet, a sinful darkness swept over your features. A viper-like smile crossed over your lips. You couldn’t hold back your desires. Seeing him stuttering, so unlike his usual composed self, was absolutely thrilling. You chuckled at his rosy tinted cheeks and ears.

“What happened? You’re usually so good with your words,” you teased, running your hands up and down his thighs.

His knees nearly buckled. You hadn’t even truly done anything, but any touch left his body dizzy. He was trapped in a whirlwind of building desires. “Hard to think when you’re looking up at me like that,” he mumbled.

You hummed, smirking to yourself. “Well? Can I take these off?” You snapped the band of his sweatpants, almost making him jump.

Sanji didn’t trust his voice for once. He simply nodded.

“Wonderful,” you purred.

You carefully tugged down the sweatpants, revealing a wet spot on his boxers. You bit your lip. You hadn’t begun, and yet he was already turned on. It fueled your ego a bit.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” You promised.

But, you would also have your fun along the way.

You softly blew on the wet patch. Sanji’s hands grabbed the railing, holding it in a crushing white-knuckling grip. He swallowed, and groaned very softly.

How was he going to last?

You kissed directly over the patch.

Sanji shoved a fist into his mouth, forcing back an awfully loud moan.

You slowly slid down his boxers, and his cock sprung out. You shivered at the sight of it. To say the cook was packing was an understatement. You snuck a glance up at him. He looked adorable. No, appetizing. His cheeks were flushed, and a hand covered his mouth preventing any wayward sounds. He was fighting back against his own desires, but you desperately wanted the cook to lose control. You wanted to see this side of him, to see pleasure wrought into every inch of his body.

And to know you were the first made it all the more delicious.

Your fingers curled around the base of his cock. Sanji fiercely but his lip, trying to keep calm. Your thumb brushed over his red, swollen tip, gathering up precum. You gave him a few soft and teasingly slow pumps. Sanji tipped his head back, falling under your spell. His hand slid from his mouth, latching onto the railing. Your hands were far better than his own.

You then swept the flat of your tongue over his swollen tip. He bit down on his lip harshly, almost about to draw blood. His eyes squeezed so tight, losing a part of himself with every passing second.

“Fucking hell,” he hissed out.

You chuckled, mischievously. Teasing him was so easy now. His reactions were delightful, and spurred your own growing desires.

Your tongue ran up the underneath of his cock. He slapped his hand over his mouth, groaning into his palm. Then, you peppered kisses up and down. With each kiss - each sweet butterfly kiss - he became more and more vocal.

If only you could hear it so clearly.

Kissing his tip one last time, your lips finally wrapped around him and took him inch by inch. Your tongue glided along his base, tasting him and feeling the weight of him. Taking all of him, you held him in your mouth for a second before slowly pulling back. You repeated the movements, slow and steady. A teasing pace, or a way to warm him up to it.

Your eyes flickered up, eager to see all of his reactions.

His eyebrows were pinched together in pleasure. His soft pants could not be completely silenced by his hand. While, the other held firmly onto the railing. He needed stability, he needed support.

You removed your mouth completely. You reached over, gently grabbing his hand on the railing and guiding to the top of your head. “Here,” you encouraged. “You can keep your hand here, and tug on my hair if you want.”

He peered down at you like some dazzling treasure. “I - really? Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

You laughed lightly. Your hands wrapped around his thighs. “You can’t hurt me. Besides -“ you threw him a wicked smirk - “maybe I want you to hurt me.”

Fuck.

He could have came right there.

“You’re dangerous, sweetheart,” he muttered in awe.

You winked, then chuckled darkly. You quickly took him in your mouth again, setting a faster pace. Your tongue swirled and grazed along him. Your fingernails dug into his thighs, eager to do all you can for him.

And dear god, you were.

Sanji was losing himself. Pleasure was filling his veins, and blood rushed in his ears. He was becoming wildly desperate for his release. His hips bucked once, unconsciously chasing his high.

You groaned, feeling his tip kiss the back of your throat.

Sanji flinched, and froze in place. Has he hurt you? He grunted, forcing himself to stay still and enjoy it.

You pulled away with a pop.

Sanji nearly whined.

“Don’t hold back,” you said, a little breathless. “I don’t mind if you move your hips.”

‘You can fuck my face,’ you almost said. However, you tried your best to be a little tame.

Sanji’s heart nearly bursted. He nodded, humming in response.

“Good.” You kissed his tip, and Sanji almost fell backwards into the sea. “Because if anything was wrong, I would tell you. Now, enjoy yourself.”

Your lips wrapped around his cock. Your head bobbed up and down again. Sanji bucked his hips again. You hummed, encouraging him.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. He was panting heavily. His head fell forward, watching you. Your lips covered in spit, wrapped so perfectly around him. It was a sight he never thought would happen. Your eyes locked with his. His hair clung to his forehead. His eyes had pooled into the sinful black, and sweat glistened along his skin.

He hasn’t looked more beautiful until now.

You hummed. He hissed then moaned softly. His lovely lips were now an incoherent mess.

He gasped, “Love, I - I -“

He choked on his words. He couldn’t form a thought, let alone a full sentence.

But, you understood. His cock twitched in your mouth. He was close. You wanted to whisper to him, to whispering loving praises in his ear. ‘Come for me, Sanji’, or ‘you’re doing so good’ but perhaps another time.

He moaned, and leaned heavily back into the railing. He could barely keep himself upright anymore. He rocked his hips, matching your pace. He tugged on your hair, drawing you closer. Your nose brushed against his abdomen with each thrust. You relaxed your jaw, allowing him to use you.

You moaned, loudly.

This was all so hot.

His head fell back, mumbling your name over and over. This was heavenly. You were heavenly. This was better than he dreamt over, far better knowing you were the one doing such things.

God, he was already imagining other things. He wanted fuck you, he wanted to make love with you, he wanted to have you on the counter, he wanted to see you riding him, he wanted to try it all. He wanted to do it all with you.

“Please,” he whimpered. He wanted this to last forever, but the pleasure was too much. “Can - can I come in your mouth?”

You moaned a ‘yes’.

That was all he needed.

He came down your throat, moaning out your name. You hummed, taking it all. Sanji glanced down at you with heavy eyes. He panted loudly, gulping down air. Ever so slowly, he released his intense grip on your hair. His legs shook slightly reeling from all of this.

Peering up at him, you pulled away then opened your mouth. His cum sat on your tongue. He whimpered faintly, utterly spent and in awe. You gladly swallowed it with a devious smirk.

His reaction was priceless.

You pulled up his boxers and pants. Standing up, you patted his chest, feeling his chaotic heart race under your fingertips. A swell of pride surged through you. You opened your mouth to ask if he liked it, when he swiftly grabbed your face kissing you.

Your eyes widened, but instantly fell into him.

His tongue slipped past your lips, drawing out your wondrous sinful sounds and desires. He could taste himself on your tongue. He groaned.

Fuck, he thought.

He pushed off the railing, flipping you around. Your lower back dug into the wood, but you didn’t mind. Your hands wandered up his chest into his hair. Your fingers tangled into the blonde locks, tugging on them softly. He moaned against your lips. He nipped on your bottom lip, loving your small gasps.

“Please,” he murmured against your lips. “Please, I want to return the favor.”

His hands skimmed down your sides, gripping your hips. He drew you close to him. You grinded softly against him. A small, sweet moan fell off your lips.

Sanji was greedy for more.

You had only given him a tasting, he now wanted the meal.

“I … I want to … please,” he begged again.

He was already sinking down to his knees. His fingers dug into your thighs, bunching up your sweatpants. Your heart pounded in your chest as you bit your lip. Just as he thought earlier, why would you say no? Even if he was inexperienced, you didn’t care.

“Okay, okay,” you mumbled, shakily.

His eyes twinkled with glee, like a kid in a candy store. You hastily kicked off your sweatpants, and about to remove your underwear -

“Let me.”

Sanji’s hands stopped yours. You froze then nodded, letting go. You wanted him to try and take charge, to see what he would do.

Sanji hummed. He slowly pulled down your underwear. He was entranced. His fingers delicately traced down your thighs and legs being as gentle as possible. As he brought them down, you stepped out of them. Sanji placed them with your sweatpants. Glancing back, he groaned at the sight of your glistening cunt.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, licking his lips.

His breath on your dripping folds made you shiver. You were immensely turned on by all of this. But, it was the hunger in his eyes that made you weak. Such hunger and want. He wanted to please you in any capacity, he wanted to be good for you.

Holy shit.

“Sanji,” you breathed out. “Can - can I -“

“Do whatever you need to, love.”

“I just want to -“ you carefully hooked one of your legs over his shoulder. You leaned backwards using the railing and Sanji for support.

He firmly grabbed your thigh, thrilled by this. He turned his head, kissing all over your thigh. Up and down, up and down, until he trail led back to where you needed him. You shivered, tipping your head back.

“Sanji,” you sighed.

“What do you need? Tell me what to do,” he purred, buzzing with excitement.

“Your tongue, your tongue, I -“

His tongue quickly swept through your folds. You groaned. His mouth latched itself onto you, swirling around. His tongue was like utter magic. You supposed you should have known from the kiss. Sanji knew how to work his tongue, he had experience in that field. All he needed was a little guidance and encouragement elsewhere.

“Higher,��� you gasped. “Go higher.”

His mouth moved. His lips wrapped around your clit and you whined.

“Right there, fuck,” you hissed.

Sanji hummed.

For a brief moment, you saw stars. He sucked on your clit, feeling your thigh twitch. Sanji groaned at the thought of both of your thighs wrapped around his head.

Another time, he swore to himself.

His tongue slowly swirled around again, lapping up your juices. His movements were hesitant, yet with each of your sighs and praises he grew more and more confident. Every sound was music to his ears. Sanji pulled away. He stared up at you breathless. His chin coated in your juices. He wanted to savor this moment.

Savor you.

“Sweetheart,” he mumbled. Your eyes dropped down to him. He smiled softly with such a boyish charm. “You are absolutely stunning.”

You laughed once, shaking your head. It seemed he had his silver tongue back. Sanji dived back in. His tongue parted your folds, curling around, and pushing inside of you. You moaned. Your fingers tangled into his hair.

“Fuck, Sanji,” you hummed.

Your foul mouth only encouraged him.

With his hand still on your thigh, he tugged you forward. His nose brushed against your clit. You gasped. Pleasure shot through you. You whimpered as your hips unconsciously bucked forward again.

More. You wanted more.

Your heel dug into his back, and you yanked on his hair. Sanji moaned, sending sweet loving vibrations throughout you. “Keeping going, Sanji, just like that.”

Sanji listened perfectly. He devoured you.

Fuck, he’s a natural.

Just with your gentle guidance, and your soft moans, Sanji had quickly learned your body. His tongue swept against your folds again and again. You moaned, almost pornographically. You rode his face, bucking your hips against his wondrous tongue.

You were panting as your pleasure built and built. “Fuck, Sanji, I’m about to come.”

He whined, “Oh, please, sweetheart.”

His fingers dug into your thigh. His lips wrapped around your clit, hearing your sweet sharp inhales. All your weight fell into the railing. You gasped, chanting Sanji’s name over and over. Your eyes squeezed shut, and finally let go, let pleasure consume you. You cried out his name. Sanji moaned as you came all over him. He greedily lapped up everything, not daring to waste a single drop.

He carefully pulled away, and your leg slid off his shoulder. He stood up, and cupped your face. He kissed you passionately once more. His expert tongue slid inside, making you taste him and yourself.

“Fuck,” you mumbled into the kiss.

Your knees were weak. You clung to his arms, humming into the kiss. Sanji slowly broke the kiss, enjoying your soft whines of protests. Both of you were panting, filling up the quiet still night.

Sanji chuckled once. “So? How did I do, sweetheart? Tired yet?”

You may have created a monster.

You blinked, then shook your head. You smirked, “Oh, I’m not done with you yet, unless you’re tired.”

He wrapped an arm around you. “Oh, sweetheart, I can keep going.”

I want to keep going, I want to have it all, he thought. Besides, what meal isn’t better without some dessert?

[beautysamour]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟒: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞

—𝐣𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐝 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

“Nice dress, hun. It looks good.”

You turn around wrapping your arms around your man’s neck, “Thank you, my love, it’s new!”

The soft smile already settled on Jason’ face only got softer, “Looks really good.”

You smile as he wraps his arms around you, melting into his embrace as he rests his forehead against yours. “I bet it’d look even better on the floor.”

He laughs as you lightly hit the back of his neck, “It better not end up on the floor, Jason.” You use his first name hoping he’d take it serious, only to have done the opposite.

He tilts his head up, making sure to make eye contact with you as he plays with the piece of fabric keeping your entire dress together. You internally curse yourself for your knees suddenly feeling weak, almost as if you would’ve fallen to your knees had he not had his arms around you.

“Jason,” he tilts his head to the side as if he had no idea why you were using his first name, “This takes a long time to take off.”

He pushes his thigh in between your legs, silently telling you to sit on it.

“I can wait. Take your time taking it off,” he eyes your body up and down, “I won’t go anywhere.”

His hands travel to your waist, pushing you down so you’ll be on his thigh. Your hands go from his neck to his broad shoulders as you feel his thigh muscles.

Jason Todd is a hot man, anyone given the chance to fuck him is lucky.

And fortunately, he only has one heart, and you own it.

“Ok—“

Jason doesn’t let any time go to waste as he picks you up bride-style, “Jason!” You giggle as he shoves the door to your shared bedroom open dropping you on the bed.

You put a hand on his chest as he begins to get on top of you, “Ah—Ah,” you tut, “This wasn’t the deal, Jason.”

He stays still for a moment, dropping his head when he remembers the words he spoke just one minute ago. He falls onto the bed, “Right.”

You stifle your giggle at his disappointed tone. Pushing yourself off the bed, you wait until Jason sits up, “Excuse me, baby,” you move his arms out of his lap, setting yourself on your boyfriend.

You tsk as he tries to hold you waist, “No touching, my love, wait until I’m ready.”

He looked at you with a raised brow before nodding, settling his arms behind his back.

You smile.

“Ready?”

He nodded already looking at your breasts that were being supported by your dress.

You smile again, seeing his dick painfully strain against his pants. So cute. “Can I use you for support?”

“Whatever you want.”

Happily, you grab onto one of his shoulder and your other hand travels to the back of your dress. You let your hand roam for a second before grabbing onto the ribbon that kept your dress from unraveling. You lightly pull on one of the ends of the ribbon, sighing at feeling the cool air hit your warm ish skin.

Your dress loosens as you undo the ribbon, each side of the dress falling to either side of your body. Jason watches as you slowly pull the right right side of your dress of your body; exposing the bra you worse under it.

Jason’ hips jolt under you, he acts like a victorian man seeing a women’s ankle.

You let the right side of the dress trail down your body as you start to pull the left side off your shoulder, letting the entire dress drop down your upper body exposing your entire chest to your boyfriend.

He watches with an open mouth, “You’re—“

“Shh,” you hush, “I’m not even done, my love.”

Jason gulps, forcing himself to look at your eyes. Your head swells as your practically see hearts in his eyes. You lean in letting him feel your lips against his—and he reciprocates immediately—you grab onto his hair with one of your hands and pull him away from you.

“Be patient, Jason, or else I’ll get up.”

“‘m sorry,” he says sweetly, staring at your breasts again.

“I forgive you,” you press a kiss onto his forehead then slightly push yourself up, pushing your lower body on his chest as you rest one of your knees on the bed, “Can you help me, baby?”

He looks up at you, lust fully filling his eyes, “Hm?”

You laugh, practically mocking him for his stupid question as you grab his hands and rest them on your waist when the rest of your dress stopped falling, “Can you take this off of me?”

He hesitates, and rightfully so. He was seconds away from ripping that dress off of you—the only reason why he hasn’t is because he knew that would upset you.

He rubs the tip of the dress as he gave you a nod.

“Thank you,” you say sweetly.

Slowly and carefully, he starts to pull the dress down your body. You lift your legs, pushing more of your weight against his chest as he drags it off your legs.

“Good jo—“

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body onto the bed as he reverses your positions, leaving him on top, “I’m sorry, my love, but I can’t hold myself back anymore.”

You chuckle at his “confession.” “Really?” You question feigning surprise.

“Yeah,” he confirms again. His hand travels down to your clothed pussy, he presses a knuckle against your folds enjoying the way you gasp, “Can I please have you now?”

You want to pout, you want to tease him more but with the way he was playing with your pussy already…you weren’t sure you could wait anymore.

He calls out your name.

“Yes,” you breathe out, “You can.”

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 14 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, risky motorcycle ride? (idk nothing bad happens but always wear helmets, friends), some fun flirting & jokes, but mostly ANGST AND PAIN (including explicit descriptions of very intense anxiety at the very end)

words: 12.3k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 14 ► this isn't over 'til we talk in the light, said i was sober, but you knew that i lied

In the lounge area outside the changing rooms of “013” in Tilburg, Jungkook was engaged in a very intense game of table tennis against Seokjin—and winning, even though Seokjin would have disagreed—when you entered to inform the band that they were going on stage in twenty minutes.

The game wrapped up as the members began to stretch while simultaneously accosting Jimin about their in-ears. There were never any serious issues – Jimin made sure he was the Sound Technician of the Year –  but they enjoyed seeing him panic when everyone started moaning, “could you turn the backtrack up a bit?” or “I literally can’t hear myself.” This last one was Taehyung’s favourite, until Jimin started retorting with, “well, maybe you’re deaf,” and then continuing with his day.

The pre-show ritual was always chaotic, but it was endearing chaos, full of nervous laughter and sparkling eyes as the members of Rated Riot prepared for their performance.

Then, just as Jungkook left the dressing room, putting his own in-ears back in, he turned the corner and almost collided with Sid, who looked more than pleased when Jungkook took a surprised step back.

What an absolute eye-sore, Jungkook thought. As the tour went on, he began to understand your aversion to his friends better.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, and it sounded like he wasn’t just asking about Sid being in this room. He was questioning Sid’s constant presence on this tour. Surely, with Jungkook no longer participating in his little games, he had to get bored and go back home.

The past few weeks have taught Jungkook that some friendships had an expiration date, and sometimes stupid bets accelerated that process. He was okay with that now—he realised that holding onto Sid would be much worse than being left alone.

“Just came to wish you luck before the show,” said Sid, who had never genuinely wished anyone luck before. “We’re here if you want to talk.”

Jungkook frowned and glanced at Minjun—who stood further away from the rest of their friends, and rolled his eyes—then he looked back at Sid.

“I’m good,” he said slowly and cautiously as if Sid was a snake that attacked when it sensed defiance.

Just when Jungkook thought he was safe and tried to walk away, Sid’s saccharine voice—the venomous kind—called out, “don’t forget we’re going out racing tonight!”

Jungkook stopped and turned to him again. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Don’t be like that,” Sid taunted. “This could be your chance to practise riding a rental since it seems like you’re going to lose your bike in five—”

“You really don’t have anything better to do, do you?” Jungkook interrupted. Maybe it was the pre-show adrenaline or maybe he had finally grown tired of Sid’s bullshit, but he added, “I feel sorry for you.”

Sneering because people felt many things for him – mostly contempt – but pity wasn’t one of them, Sid leaned in closer. It was a tactic that Jungkook had already grown immune to, but Sid was a creature of habit.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he hissed, not bothered by the emptiness in Jungkook’s stare. “See you later.”

“You won’t,” Jungkook asserted. “I’m not going out with you. This is all over, including the bet.”

Sid raised his eyebrows. With a very specific sense of justice that no one else in this hallway—or in this world—possessed, he declared, “I get the Katana, then.”

There was something questioning about his tone, however. As if he needed Jungkook’s confirmation that he did indeed lose this bet to Sid.

But Jungkook was firm: “You don’t.”

Sid threw his head back and scoffed with an exasperation that could have put a two-year-old to shame. “Well, then neither do you!”

“That’s fine,” Jungkook said. “Minjun can keep it.”

As Sid huffed and growled in frustration, Jungkook looked at his friend again. Minjun seemed about ready to interject—he was the one person here who did not want the bike and, in fact, wished it did not exist at all—but Sid finally found his words.

“You think Minjun can—the bike is mine,” he insisted. “I won—”

“Sid, you don’t give two shits about the fucking bike,” Jungkook cut him off, very tired of the repetitive argument. “Get over it.”

The conversation with Taehyung at Hoseok’s party weighed heavily on Jungkook’s mind. He knew he had bigger things to worry about right now—forget losing the bike. He might lose you.

In his usual dignified manner—so, not dignified at all—Sid rolled his eyes and snarled, “I agreed to bet on it, didn’t I? Obviously, I do give a shit.”

“No,” Jungkook said. “You give a shit about winning. But it’s over. We’re not doing this anymore. Deal with it.”

There was a redness on Sid’s face that hadn’t been there before. A week ago, Jungkook would have been excited to see it—it would have certainly meant a point in his favour. Now, he didn’t want to see Sid’s face at all.

“It’s not over,” Sid argued, persistent like a fly that keeps hitting the glass of a window. “There’s still five days left.”

“Five days until what?”

Four heads whipped around to see you standing at the end of the hallway, confused by the snippet of conversation that you’d overheard. You had returned to find Jungkook because the rest of the band was already pacing – or, in Hoseok’s case, doing restless sit-ups – by the side of the stage.

Jungkook, Sid, Jude, and Minjun stared at you with eyes so bright and wide that they could have guided ships off the coast.

You’ve never met four boys who looked more stunned to see you. It was as if you had accidentally stumbled into the latest concert of the Masculine Ritual, Absolutely No Femininity Allowed, God Forbid Someone Who Identifies as Female Enters The Room tour, and they could not believe this was happening.

“Uh,” Jungkook was the first to react as he immediately approached you. “I’ll tell you later. They’re just excited about, uh, London.”

You did the mental calculations while Jungkook gently squeezed your shoulder to turn you around and steer you away from his friends and towards the stage.

The London show really was more or less in five days, so you decided not to question that part. But the quick pace at which Jungkook was pulling you away from the others still unsettled you.

As you turned a corner, you looked back and saw Sid frowning at you, while Minjun—as usual lately—looked like he regretted being born, and Jude—as usual always—was picking his fingernails.

“Is Sid in one of his chaotic moods again?” you asked as you walked—nearly ran, actually, with the way Jungkook was pulling you. “Should I be concerned?”

“No, no. Everything’s fine,” he assured with a dismissive wave of his hand. “He’s just… doing Sid things. You know. Nothing to worry about as long as—well, as long as you don’t get in his way. I have everything under control.”

Your primary goal on this tour was to stay out of Sid’s way as long as he stayed out of yours. But now was not the time to discuss it, because Rated Riot had three minutes until their performance.

“Alright, then,” you said. “Leave me out of it and we’re good.”

Jungkook coughed in response and stopped once you reached the other members of the band. You thought you saw Taehyung raise his eyebrows when Jungkook took his hand off your shoulders, but maybe you were just imagining it.

You turned to the rest of the band, all of whom looked pale and fidgety and unsure.

The speakers had malfunctioned during the soundcheck earlier, so Jimin and Seokjin had to cut it short to fix the problem. Naturally, the disruption of their usual routine made the band anxious. The table tennis match between Seokjin and Jungkook—arguably the most unhinged members of the team when it came to games—had distracted everyone, but now they returned to the unpleasant arms of anxiety.

“Come on,” you said, trying to sound more energetic than you were feeling. “Stop looking like you’re going to get hanged. You’ll do fantastic out there. Go and have fun. And don’t bother coming backstage until you’re drenched and the crowd won’t stop changing your names. I mean it.”

Finally, a small smile appeared on Yoongi’s face as he rolled up one of his pant legs—for no reason other than he thought it looked cool. Honestly, it worked for him.

“Why did that last part sound like a threat?” he quipped, standing up straight.

“Because it is,” you replied. When you turned to Jungkook, he had his eyebrows furrowed as if he was still worried about something, but he started to smile as soon as he felt your gaze. You added, “I’ll be out there watching you. Kick some ass.”

You high-fived all four of them and pulled back as the boys erupted battle cries and huddled together before taking the stage.

They were still nervous, but they had you and each other, and there was a room full of people excited to see them perform. This was supposed to be just another day at the office.

Smiling, you headed back to your usual spot by the stage where Luna was chatting with a few girls at the barricade, and Maggie was snapping pictures of the audience nearby.

It occurred to you while standing there, that you were thousands of kilometres away from your house, away from everything familiar. But with Rated Riot on stage, and Luna and Maggie by your side, you felt right at home.

There was nothing you wished more than to stay like this forever.

It was an unwritten law that touring with a rock band was fun, but quickly turned very hectic. Insomnia often became an unwelcome friend—especially for the members of the band who had fashionable bags under their eyes almost every day. But when they were on stage or meeting their fans after the show, they looked alive. They looked happy.

And the more drinks they had after the concert, the more that happiness seemed to grow.

“You know what I think?” Yoongi said on the couch in the dressing room where everyone had gathered after the show. He was tipsy as he swung the green Heineken bottle around, nearly splashing you and Namjoon as you sat on either side of him. “I think next time we’re in Europe, we’ll be performing at Wembley. Stade de France. The fucking Coliseum.”

“And Camp Nou?” you teased.

Yoongi and Namjoon—both avid Barcelona fans—nodded in eager agreement.

“And not as guests at festivals, either,” Yoongi continued. “Headliners.”

You smiled. “I can see that.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi’s own smile widened. “When we announced our tour, Kerrang! called us ‘The Next Reconnaissance’ on their Instagram.”

You felt an uncomfortable twinge in your stomach at the mention of the other band and turned away from the two boys. You remembered the alternative culture magazine running rampant with the moniker—always “The Next Reconnaissance,” never just Rated Riot.

“I… don’t think you’re the next anything,” you said. “I think you’re you. And being Rated Riot is already amazing.”

Yoongi needed a moment to process your words. For some reason, he had expected you to agree with the nickname. Part of him wanted to be “the next Reconnaissance,” considering how much they had achieved. But you were right.

“I like that,” he said. “That’s good. Yes. We’re Rated Riot. We’ll get Wembley. And Camp Nou.”

“I second that,” Namjoon said, pointing his beer bottle at the other boy. “But, oh, we saw Reconnaissance at Rose Bowl last year, remember? Might be the best concert I’ve ever been to. I know they were in town again before we left for Europe, but I didn’t get to go. It was at a smaller venue anyway, I think. Rose Bowl, though... Stadium shows are something else.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at Namjoon over Yoongi’s head. The producer didn’t normally say this much in one breath. He was clearly getting drunk.

Yoongi, on the other hand, didn’t notice anything wrong. He was likely equally as buzzed. He hummed as he threw his head back and took a large swig of his beer. Then he turned to face you.

“We’ve never opened for a band their size before,” he said. “Do you think we even could? I mean, they’re not The Rolling Stones, but they’re… well…”

He let the sentence falter because he couldn’t find a fitting word, but both you and Namjoon understood.

“Uh, well, who says you can never work with them in the future? I know their manager,” you said, trying to sound uplifting, but quickly catching yourself. You could have made your point without mentioning this. But because the two boys suddenly looked at you as if you’d just said you were Kurt Cobain in your past life, you had to explain, “he’s, uh—he’s Nick Zhou. I worked under him after university.”

“No shit?” Yoongi raised his eyebrows even higher. “Are you still in touch?”

“Not really,” you mumbled, finding yourself in a tough spot. Avoiding the subject now, when you were the one who mentioned Nick, would essentially mean lying to them. You didn’t want to do that. Awkwardly, you admitted, “although, he did, um—he called me a few days ago. Back in Oslo.”

“What?” Namjoon leaned forward to look at you over Yoongi, who stopped drinking his beer, distracted by the conversation. “Why didn’t you say anything? What did he want?”

Suddenly, you regretted finishing your beer before you joined them on the couch.

“Well, see, that’s the thing. He, uh—he wasn’t calling about the band. Or, well, he was, but it wasn’t—okay.” You closed your eyes and took a breath. This was a very long detour to get to the most important sentence. “He said he’s looking for an assistant manager.”

The two boys next to you exchanged a look.

“And… he wants you?” Namjoon asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “But only because he needs someone quickly and he’s already worked with me before, so—”

“Well, fuck,” Yoongi concluded, cutting off your humble explanation, while Namjoon offered an equally insightful, “wow, shit.”

You nodded – both observations accurate – and quickly added, “I didn’t—I’m not going to do it, though.”

“No?” Yoongi asked. “Why not?”

The hint of surprise in his voice made you uncomfortable. It sounded like the reasonable decision would have been to accept Nick’s offer and leave Rated Riot to work with this much bigger, much more intimidating band.

“I-I guess I don’t want to be anyone’s assistant anymore,” you stammered. “I like running the ship myself.”

The guitarist’s expression softened. But before he could speak, Namjoon slapped his palm on his thigh and cheered so uncharacteristically loudly that you and Yoongi both pulled back from him in surprise.

“I know that’s fucking right!” Namjoon cried out. “Steer us all right and Rated Riot will surpass them. You’ll be calling that guy to get him to be your assistant.”

You laughed at the unexpected proposition, and Yoongi gave your knee a friendly pat.

“We won’t let you down,” he said, much more collected than the boy next to him. “You know?”

“I know.” You were smiling with all the warmth in your chest. “I believe you, that’s why I don’t want to leave. But, uh—would you mind not telling anyone else about this? I don’t want it to, you know, blow out of proportion. It wasn’t even an official offer, really, he just mentioned that there was an opening. But I just… I thought it would be unfair if I didn’t eventually tell any of you.”

Yoongi nodded knowingly. Rated Riot didn’t have a designated leader, since Namjoon—as their main producer—and Seokjin—as their stage manager—called most of the shots, but as the oldest member of the band, Yoongi was typically the one to talk to you about the heavier topics.

“It’s cool,” he said. “As long as you’re staying with us, no one else really needs to know about this, right?”

What he’d just said—paired with the way he looked at you for a few seconds longer than necessary—seemed to imply something else. Your eyes automatically drifted to Jungkook, who was talking to Seokjin and Jimin on the other side of the room.

You lowered your eyes. “Yeah.”

Yoongi finished his beer in one swift gulp and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then, he looked at you again.

“Thanks for that, by the way,” he said.

You met his gaze. “For what?”

“For believing in us enough to stay.”

Namjoon felt himself smile as he quietly finished his beer. He knew he was tipsy, but he wasn’t drunk enough to interrupt the moment between you two.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” you said. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.” Here, you turned to Namjoon. “Right?”

Looking at you in surprise after you addressed him, the producer scrambled to nod.

“Oh, hell yeah!” he said, leaning forward to reach Yoongi’s completely empty bottle with his own. “Here’s to Wembley next year.”

You smiled as the older boy clinked his empty bottle against Namjoon’s, then tipped his head back to get the last stubborn drops.

“Oh, by the way,” Yoongi spoke as he swallowed and immediately coughed. “D-did you find out what was going on with Jungkook and his lyrics?”

It took you a minute to recall your last conversation with Yoongi—the one that had led you to Jungkook, where he had dodged your questions and later snuck into your bunk on the tour bus and kissed you.

“Uh, well.” You tugged at the sleeve of your leather jacket. “He said that the song he played you was just a demo. He’s still working on the melody. And he said that he just has someone who reviews his lyrics for him, nothing more.”

Yoongi nodded to the rhythm of an unusually slow Asking Alexandria song that played from the speakers of the dressing room.

“So, we shouldn’t worry?” he asked, clearly hopeful.

“Apparently, no,” you said with an uneasy smile.

“Alright,” he decided. “Then let’s not worry.”

He looked at Namjoon who nodded in support of this decision.

And so, not worrying was exactly what they did. Instead, Namjoon brought three more bottles of Heineken and you all decided to just feel happy tonight.

As you scanned the room with a new bottle in your hand—while the boys finished their beer in under a minute and Namjoon got up again to bring more—it seemed to you that everyone had made the exact same decision.

Except Taehyung for some reason.

For a good minute, you watched him walk in circles in the very centre of the room. Then, just when you thought he’d stopped, he started another lap around the carpet.

“Excuse me for a minute,” you said to the two boys on the couch—they both nodded—and stood up.

A brief, unexpected fight broke out over the bottle of beer that you’d handed them—Namjoon won—and you hesitated for a moment as you realised you had a new problem and weighed it against the previous one.

The new problem was that Yoongi and Namjoon were getting very drunk. It was almost ridiculous, but probably harmless. Taehyung, on the other hand, seemed to be waiting to perform at four more gigs as soon as he left this room. You had to go to him first.

He had noticed the commotion by the couch, but he did not acknowledge your approach.

“Is everything okay?” You had to stop right in front of him to ask as he continued his frenzied pacing. “You’re kind of walking in circles here.”

Taehyung stopped as if in a daze and looked at you. “Hm? Ah. Lots on my mind, I guess.”

You nodded slowly. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“Uh…” He looked around. The movement seemed thoughtful, but without a clear purpose—it seemed like he was just avoiding your eyes. Then you saw his gaze land on Jungkook. Taehyung looked at him for a moment, then turned back to you and scratched the back of his neck in a telltale sign of universal discomfort. He said, “honestly, maybe it’s not me that you should be talking to.”

You glanced at Jungkook, too—he was explaining something to Jimin with very wild hand gestures. He still appeared to be on a high from the concert.

“You mean Jungkook?” you asked, shifting your attention back to Taehyung. “Is he the reason why you’re pacing?”

“Sort of,” the bassist replied, blinking at the carpet.

You didn’t like the trepidation in your stomach. And you definitely didn’t like the unexpected memory of the alarm that you had seen on Jungkook’s face in your hotel room in Amsterdam.

“Why?” you asked because, despite the ominous dread that you were feeling, it was still your responsibility to know what was going on with the band.

“Just talk to him,” Taehyung advised. “But don’t tell him I said so.”

You hesitated, wanting a bit more information before you dived off this cliff headfirst. You asked, “at least tell me if something happened, so I can be prepared.”

He glanced at Jungkook again. This time, the younger member seemed to sense his gaze as he turned around. Taehyung looked away immediately.

He muttered quickly, “ask about his friends,” and then retreated to the very back of the room until he was fully concealed by Hoseok and Maggie.

A reluctant “oh,” passed your lips, but knowing that Jungkook’s friends were involved meant that there was nothing else that Taehyung could have said to you anyway.

You had to go straight to the source.

You couldn’t say this surprised you. You already got an odd feeling when you walked in on Sid and his Asshole Alliance before the concert tonight, but Jungkook had assured you that everything was fine.

However, if this was something that made Taehyung stomp around the room—which never happened unless the situation was extremely stressful, like the time Luna was getting surgery and he almost rubbed off the soles of his shoes, walking back and forth in the waiting room of the clinic—then it most certainly wasn’t fine.

Your original plan was to wait until everyone was back on the tour bus, since you’d be spending the night in Tilburg anyway. But then you remembered all the times you’d asked Jungkook if everything was okay—and all the times he said it was—and you decided that waiting would not cut it this time.

“Hey,” you said right in the middle of his conversation with Jimin. You added an apologetic, “could you excuse us, please?” but Jimin could tell as soon as he looked at you that he’d better leave.

As quickly as it was humanly possible, he nodded and jogged to join Yoongi and Namjoon by the door of the room. The two of them were loudly discussing their plan to go out and find a bar, but they paused after noticing Jimin.

You watched them for a moment, wondering if you should have stopped them from leaving when they were already so drunk, but they noticed you, waved, and left before you could open your mouth.

Sighing, you turned to Jungkook just as he asked, “what’s up?”

He didn’t appear unusual when you looked at him. But he rarely ever did.

“Are you okay?” you asked in return.

You were both tired of the question, but Jungkook disliked the sound of it particularly much this time. He’d seen you—out of the corner of his eye—take six steps in his direction right after you finished talking to Taehyung.

What if he’d told you?

“Uh, of course,” Jungkook said, looking at you with just as much confusion—and a sprinkle of suspicion—as you were looking at him with. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know,” you said. Your heart rate increased as if you’d already heard the bad news you were expecting to hear. “How are, um—how’s Sid and everyone else?”

Jungkook disliked this question even more.

“Oh,” he said in a relaxed tone that sounded forced even to him. He cleared his throat and scanned the room for the older member, but didn’t find him. Even more nervous now, he turned to you and tried again. “You mean Sid and the others? They—they’re okay. Sid’s just being annoying, but what else is new? But I’m—we’re all okay. Thanks for, uh, for checking in.”

“Of course,” you said. You waited for him to elaborate so you could discover the reason for Taehyung’s anxiety which resulted in two more members of the band that you needed to worry about.

Honestly, Hoseok was the only one who wasn’t playing with your nerves tonight. You saw him peacefully tapping his foot to the music in the room as he chatted with Maggie and a few other staff members.

Jungkook did not pursue the topic further.

“What did you talk about with, uh—with Taehyung?” he asked instead with all the subtlety of a frightened elephant in a porcelain shop.

“Oh, this and that,” you lied. Then, feeling uncomfortable about lying, you scattered a bit of truth in there, “Luna’s face-timing her mum on the bus, so he was—he’s bored.”

“Ah.” Jungkook nodded. “Makes sense.”

He didn’t think—or didn’t want to think—that Taehyung would tell you about the bet after he asked him not to.

And, really, he tried to be reasonable. If Taehyung had told you, would you be here, peacefully asking him if he was okay?

No. You’d use fists, he presumed. Possibly knees.

“So, there’s nothing you want to tell me?” you asked suddenly, interrupting his masochistic fantasy.

Jungkook swallowed. Whatever it was that you talked about with Taehyung, it was clearly neither this, nor that.

“There is, uh, one thing,” he admitted slowly.

You inhaled. “What is it?”

“What are you plans for the rest of the night?”

This was not what you had braced yourself for. Annoyed by his stalling, you pulled your phone out of your back pocket.

“Well, depending on what you tell me, either I’m arguing with you or going to sleep,” you said. Glancing at the phone in your hand, you added, “it’s two in the morning.”

“We have tomorrow off,” he reminded you. “Well, today, I guess.”

“I know, but we’re going to Cologne—”

“That’s only in the evening.”

“Okay.” You looked around to see if anyone was close enough to hear the two of you. Not that you were doing anything forbidden—just merely bordering on it. “What are you getting at?”

“You’ve finished all your work for the night, right?” he asked and you nodded apprehensively. He said, “come do something with me.”

Once again, the dilemma that plagued your mind whenever you were with him returned.

The responsible thing to do here would be to, of course, gently suggest going to sleep. There was a long day of travel ahead of you, after all.

However, this could be your chance to determine if there was truly something alarming happening between him and his friends. Not to mention, he clearly still had something to tell you, despite appearing to have lost courage after the strange moment in your hotel room.

And, alright – the truth was, you wanted to do something with him.

“That’s very vague,” you finally said. “What do you have in mind?”

“Come with me,” Jungkook said, gesturing towards the door of the dressing room.

You agreed to follow him to the door but paused before leaving the room.

“I’d like more information,” you said, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed over your chest.

You tried to convince yourself that there was no logical reason for the entire room to be watching you and Jungkook right now, but you still felt phantom eyes all over yourself.

This wasn’t Hoseok’s party. You were still at the concert venue where Jungkook was the performer, and you were the manager.

He noticed your unease. First, he sighed. Then, as if he was compromising, he extended his hand.

“Take my hand,” he said. “And come with me.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant—”

“Come on,” he cut in, waving his hand in front of you. “Less talking, more holding my hand.”

Because your back obstructed the view of his outstretched hand for everyone else in the room, you knew you didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing this. Still, you let out a slow, anxious breath.

“Fine,” you said with exaggerated irritation to emphasise your displeasure about being kept in the dark. Then you took his hand.

As the two of you exited the room, there were ulterior motives firmly set in both of your minds.

You had to find out what was going on.

He had to tell you what was going on.

And Jungkook had a plan here somewhere. He knew he needed to tell you about the bet tonight, especially since you almost found out about it accidentally right before the show. And also because Taehyung looked about ready to start climbing walls.

He had a rough idea of how he’d like to tell you: it had to happen in a beautiful spot that would make up for the awful revelation he was about to make. If not make up for it, then at least make it worth your while.

And he’d done his research—as always. This was the one lesson from your relationship that he hadn’t learned as he continued to strenuously plan everything in the hopes of making it memorable and unique.

“There’s this spot. The Wandelbos,” he said as the two of you walked hand-in-hand down the corridor of the venue.

He pronounced the word with relative ease, making you wonder how many times he’d heard it. Then he showed pictures on his phone.

“This looks like a forest,” you commented, stopping to scroll through several photographs of squirrels and autumn trees—which wasn’t easy because he refused to let go of your hand as you held his phone.

“It’s a baroque park,” he clarified. “It’s beautiful, supposedly.”

You handed his phone back to him. “I’m sure it is. But not at two in the morning.”

“The path is star-shaped,” he continued, ignoring your interjection as the two of you kept walking. “And there’s a clearing in the middle with a pond and a bridge and—oh, and it’s only about six kilometres away.”

He held the exit door open, allowing you to walk out into the brisk night air.

Crossing the threshold, you looked at him with your eyebrows raised. “You want to walk over there?”

Actually, he did. But your question made him pause. “Uh... no?”

You stopped and waited until he walked out into the parking lot, but his attention was suddenly drawn to something behind you.

You ignored that and said, “well, we can’t rent bicycles at this time and—”

“Sorry—hold on for one second,” he stopped you abruptly.

You turned around and followed his gaze until you spotted Minjun by the restaurant across the street. Your lips parted in involuntary surprise, but it wasn’t Minjun’s presence that really startled you. It was the fact that he was leaning against a motorcycle, of all things, and there were two more bikes parked right next to him.

When you looked back at Jungkook, he looked almost relieved.

How wonderful it was, he thought, that Sid was such an insufferable idiot that he would decide to have a drag race in the middle of the Netherlands.

From across the street, the bike Minjun had rented out appeared to be a Kawasaki. Despite Jungkook’s previous bad experiences with the brand—involving a mild concussion and a dented metal fence, which, in his defence, appeared out of nowhere—this gave him an idea immediately.

“Could we go over there? Or maybe you could wait here for a minute?” he asked you while already walking away—and pulling on your hand until you had to let go because you were absolutely not going over there. He promised, “one minute!”

You could tell right away that he’d just found a potential means of transportation.

“Jungkook, that’s probably not a good idea!” you called out as he neared the street.

“I’ll be right back!” he shouted, forming the shape of a heart with both of his hands as he went.

You cringed as he crossed the street without looking both ways, but fortunately, there weren’t a lot of cars around. Unfortunately, however, you couldn’t hear what he and Minjun talked about due to the distance and the heavy gusts of wind.

You waited alone, with only your confusion for company.

If Jungkook stayed with the band while his friends went out, and now he went over there to borrow some devil-sent motorcycle, then clearly, that had to mean that he finally started to make smart(er) decisions while still being on good terms with his friends.

So, what was it that worried Taehyung so much?

“Dude!” Jungkook exclaimed across the street from you when he finally reached Minjun and scared the hell out of him with his shout—he flinched so vehemently that he nearly knocked the bike over. “Whose is this?”

“Uh—mine. We rented bikes for the race,” Minjun explained and glanced at you standing by the exit of the venue. “Sid was about to call you and force you to come with us—”

“I need it,” Jungkook interrupted, choosing to ignore the fact that there wouldn’t have been enough bikes if he had come along.

Minjun turned to him with raised eyebrows. “Huh?”

“I need to borrow it.”

“Borrow—it’s a rental.” Minjun turned his head to look at the neon green motorcycle. He knew that riding down the city streets with Sid and Jude on rented bikes was already reckless. Subletting the motorcycle to someone else, however, might be equally as stupid. “It’s in my name.”

“It’s the least you can do for me,” Jungkook said right away as if he had planned this in advance instead of only noticing Minjun and the motorcycle a mere two minutes ago.

His words weren’t entirely true, considering that Minjun wasn’t the one who had manipulated him into this mess. But Jungkook was appealing to his conscience—and that thing was eating Minjun alive. You could see it from across the street, even without knowing the reason for it.

Minjun bit his lip, fighting a very unpleasant battle with his own self.

“Okay. Fine,” he conceded, even though he knew very well what Sid would say about his impartiality and about the fact that he’d now have to ride as someone’s passenger—likely Jude’s, because Sid would rather cut his own head off than allow someone else on his bike, even if it was a rental. Hurriedly, Minjun added, “you have to return the bike back by midday tomorrow.”

“Perfect,” Jungkook replied brightly. “That’s more than enough time.”

“I’ll text you the address of the rental place,” Minjun continued, getting his phone out.

Jungkook kept on nodding. “That’s great. You do that.”

His friend typed a text message and pulled out the keys to the bike from his jacket pocket. He tossed them to Jungkook just as his phone vibrated.

“Don’t wreck it,” Minjun warned. “Or yourself.”

Jungkook grinned, swinging his right leg over the motorcycle and putting the key in the ignition. “I won’t. Thanks again!”

His friend glanced back at the restaurant, suddenly grateful that the take-out was taking so long to prepare. This meant that Sid and Jude wouldn’t notice Minjun giving the bike away—even though they would notice it gone and would probably realise where it went.

Meanwhile, Jungkook revved the engine and turned towards the parking lot of the venue.

The Kawasaki felt unusual underneath him and it made him miss his Katana, but he swallowed the disconcert. Beggars couldn’t be choosers—this was better than nothing in any case.

He stopped right in front of you in the parking lot, switched the engine off, and leaned back from the handlebar to give you a smile.

“So?” He patted the side of the bike. “Ready for a ride?”

You shook your head, disapproving of the cheesy grin on his face, and sunk your teeth into your tongue to resist a smile.

There were numerous—numerous—reasons why you weren’t ready to climb on this bright green monstrosity that must have been visible from any space station above. If not visible, then certainly audible.

“There’s only one helmet,” was the one concern that you chose to voice.

Jungkook hadn’t considered that as he glanced at the helmet, attached to the tail of the bike. He leaned over to unhook it and offered it to you.

“No,” you said before he started to speak. “If anything, you should be the one wearing it. You’re the driver. And the vocalist of a band that’s literally on tour right now. You can’t perform if you get your head snapped off.”

“Can’t perform if I get yours snapped off, either,” he argued. “Put it on. I’ll go slow.”

This was still a safety hazard, and at first, you debated arguing. Then you tried to rationalise.

Jungkook hadn’t had any alcohol after the show—which was very unusual, now that you thought about it. He must have been planning something all along.

Additionally, the streets were mostly empty, except for one car whose driver gaped suspiciously at the many motorcycles on the street, narrowing his eyes at each and every one of them as he drove past.

There was also Minjun across the street, looking as though he was praying that you and Jungkook would drive off quickly.

“Come on,” Jungkook encouraged. You understood his impatience—if Minjun was here, the rest of the Insolent Idiots couldn’t be far behind.

You looked back at the helmet in his hands.

This wouldn’t be the first time you’d gotten on a motorcycle with Jungkook, but it had been a while.

He had always been a huge fan of anything that could reach over a hundred in under five seconds, so he’d been riding bikes since before he was legally allowed to. However, the two of you had already broken up when he purchased and restored the Katana that he never stopped talking about—so you’d never ridden with him when he actually owned the vehicle.

It occurred to you suddenly that Jungkook had probably never mentioned his motorcycle since the tour started. You made a mental note to ask him about that later.

Now, you finally took the helmet from him and pushed it over your head. Maybe the most important justification for your decision was this: you’d missed the excited twirling of your heart when he took you for a ride.

The joy that Jungkook felt as he watched you put the helmet on surprised him.

He remembered the first time you struggled to fasten the straps under your chin and managed to graze your skin. Now, listening to you sigh as you squeezed the helmet over your head and tightened the straps without his help, he realised that you hadn’t forgotten. That you were still used to this.

Excited shivers ran across his skin as you climbed on the bike behind him. But he could sense your apprehension—your initial instinct was to hold onto the back of the bike.

“Come on, now. This isn’t your first time,” he said, looking at you over his shoulder. “You know I won’t go unless I know you’re holding on tight.”

“I assure you,” you said. Your voice was muffled by the helmet. “I’m holding on tight.”

He clicked his tongue as he turned to face forward again. “I happen to not believe you.”

“Tough.”

“We’ll be here a while, it seems.” He released the handles and leaned back. “Maybe we should see if Sid wants to join us, I’m sure he would love to—”

“My God!” you groaned. “Fine.”

You wrapped your hands around his waist but kept your touch light, almost nervous. Grinning, Jungkook reached for your hands and pulled them closer to make sure you had a strong hold.

When he squeezed the clutch, he felt you tighten your arms around him even more. Satisfied that he could feel more of your weight against his back, he finally pressed the starter and pulled the bike off.

He raced down the street—much to Minjun’s relief—at a speed that definitely would have been dangerous for someone without a helmet if there had been other cars around. But the road was empty and there were hardly any turns to make.

And as he sped down these empty streets, you had to admit to yourself that this was, simply, thrilling.

The rapid pace seemed to elevate your insides, forcing you to hold onto Jungkook more tightly as you rested your head against his back and watched the streetlights blur together. The deafening sound of the engine, the dark visor of your helmet, the intoxicating speed, the rough metal underneath your thighs, and the soft leather of the jacket that he was wearing—all of it was absolutely exhilarating.

Jungkook knew—he’d always known—that you would have enjoyed the thrill of a late-night ride far more than a simple walk down the Tilburg streets.

And he was excited to see your silly grin and dilated pupils after you took off the helmet outside of the park. He was almost flustered by your glow—and by the fact that he was the reason why you looked so happy and so overwhelmingly full of life.

He nearly forgot to lock the bike as he looked at you.

But then the sudden memory of why he’d brought you here caught up to him like a painful crash.

“Uh, so,” he turned away, “should we go explore?”

“Might as well,” you joked weakly. Your legs were still a little shaky from the ride. “Since we’re already here anyway.”

“Right. Well, I wouldn’t mind taking another drive,” he said with a more confident smirk—that only grew in size and arrogance when he saw you smile at the suggestion. Then, he looked down and added, “but I also wouldn’t mind just walking and… talking.”

The two of you had done a lot of that—just walking and talking—since the tour started, so agreeing to this felt natural and harmless.

The park was beautiful indeed, just as the pictures on Jungkook’s phone had promised. Granted, walking through it at night when the streetlights were so sparse, provided a layer of eerie uncertainty—but even now, you were mesmerised.

In addition to the bold squirrels, peeking at you through the tree branches—their fur barely noticeable among the dark foliage, but their little beady eyes glistening—you could also see the sky above. You could see all of it, it seemed. And the patterns of the stars were so bright that you found yourself stopping several times, utterly captivated by them.

You regretted not learning the names of constellations—or how to differentiate them—but looking at the night sky was a breathtaking experience regardless.

The sky looked different here. And it felt closer, too. It was something you didn’t believe you could ever get used to, no matter how much you stayed here.

After a short while, you and Jungkook arrived at a pond, and he informed you that this was the very centre of the park.

It reminded you of home in an odd way, even though there weren’t many ponds back home—and none of them looked quite as charming as this one. Yet there was something familiar here, something homely. Even at night, in a park that resembled a forest more than a cosy picnic spot, there was something heartwarming here.

You could have been feeling this way, you supposed, because Jungkook was holding your hand as he guided you down a narrow plank over a dark creek. Without him, the eeriness of spending the night in an old park alone would have been much more noticeable. But with him here, it just felt comfortable. As if you both knew that you were destined to be safe from all harm here.

The stream ran deeper into the forest, and there were several benches scattered in the clearing on either side of the creek. The two of you sat down on one of them and listened to the silence of the trees and the gentle flow of the water.

Remembering suddenly, you spoke up—quietly, mindful not to disrupt the peace of all living things around you. “Did you know that my parents actually had their first date by a creek?”

Jungkook turned to you. He was more comfortable being loud, because he didn’t feel like a guest here. With you there, he sort of felt like the night—and everything that it touched—belonged to him.

“That’s a… very specific location,” he commented.

“Yeah.” You snickered. “There were no creeks in our town, dad took mum to the city where he grew up.”

“Oh, that’s actually nice,” he said, a little surprised. He’d never met your dad, but he knew that ‘nice’ wasn’t the adjective that was usually used in the same sentence as his name. “Was the creek special to him?”

“Not really,” you replied, shattering the romantic image that had already formed in his head. “It was the only pretty place that he could think of at the time. At least that’s what my mum thought.”

Careful, because this was a delicate topic and he didn’t want to come off like he was defending your dad, Jungkook asked, “she never found out if there was, maybe, more to it?”

“She never asked,” you said. “Either way, that date didn’t exactly end well. In the long-term, I mean.”

Jungkook looked down at the dark ground beneath his boots. A few blades of grass poked through the dirt on the shore of the creek.

“I know what you mean,” he said slowly. “But can you really say that with such certainty? She has two kids. And you’re both pretty great.”

You smiled at this, and it gave him the courage to smile, too.

“Thanks,” you said. “And yeah. I guess you’re right. Some good did come out of it.”

The two of you were quiet for a minute. It was a comfortable minute, too, but only as long as you managed to keep your mind empty.

You succeeded—the memories of the stories that your mum had told you were slowly fading, overtaken by the calming whispers of the trees around you—but he didn’t.

“I never asked—and I don’t want to intrude now, but, uh,” Jungkook started, “from what you’ve told me before, I assumed that your parents got back together at some point, right?”

You nodded with an exhale from somewhere deeper than just your chest.

“Several points, actually,” you said.

Happy that you seemed willing to share this, he encouraged, “yeah?”

“Yeah. She kept taking him back when I was young, and my brother was—well, a baby, essentially,” you said. “Everyone told her not to do it, not even for the kids. They told her to move on, maybe find someone better. My uncle—mum’s brother—protested against this especially much. He had been against their marriage from the very beginning. But my mum loved the guy.”

The smile on your face when you said that last part made Jungkook tense—it contradicted so much with the sadness in your eyes.

“Did he love her back?” he asked.

You were about to respond with a reflexive answer that had been ingrained in you by years and years of your mother screaming about how your father was a good-for-nothing loser, how he could never love anyone other than himself, and plenty of other colourful descriptions that you probably shouldn’t have known at your age at the time. And yet, despite the intensity of her emotions after every break-up, she still took him back. Until one day she didn’t.

And now you had to pause.

“That’s probably a million-dollar question,” you said with a sad chuckle. “I don’t know. Is that awful of me to say? She doesn’t think he did, but she still got back together with him so many times. So maybe he did love her in his own fucked up way. But I-I don’t think someone who loves you is supposed to hurt you like that.”

Jungkook had leaned back as he listened to you and he nearly toppled over backwards at your words.

You were right, of course.

Someone who loved you should have never hurt you.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking. “That’s, uh—that’s not awful. That’s sad, I think. Your mum deserves better.”

“She does,” you agreed. “But I understand now that—well, in a way, she is who she is because of all that happened to her. She’s very strong and she cares so much. And the fact that her only flaw is loving people too much, it’s—I don’t know. Lately, that just makes me admire her more. Because she sees the best in people. No one does that these days, everyone’s always afraid to get hurt. But my mum, she’s like—she’s fearless. You know? I genuinely respect that.”

“Even if she really does end up getting hurt?” Jungkook asked.

“Yeah. Even then. And maybe that’s the thing,” you said, looking up at the sky again. “I mean, in general. The people we love are the only ones who can hurt us like that. Or, rather, it’s precisely because we love them that it hurts so much.”

“Hmm.”

He wasn’t sure if you were still talking about your parents by the time you reached the last few sentences, but he was too afraid to ask. He couldn’t even look at you as he stayed frozen in the same spot.

“I’m probably not making much sense,” you added with a small, uncertain laugh. “I just meant that it took me a while to understand my mum. Actually, I don’t know if I even fully understand her to this day, but um… I watched her give second chances to people who held the most against her and could hurt her the most. I thought they didn’t deserve it. But she... She knew the risk, she was familiar with heartbreak, and still, she stayed hopeful. For a long time, I resented that. I thought that was a—a weakness. It sounds cruel. But I thought I could never do that.”

You paused again. The memories—of more than just your parents—flashed in your mind a little too quickly for you to collect your thoughts. You looked down to compose yourself and felt Jungkook’s hesitant glance.

Finally, you finished, “all these years of watching the back-and-forth between my parents… It made me think that I could never give someone a second chance.”

Digging into the dirt with the heel of his boot, Jungkook asked, “you, uh… you don’t think so anymore?”

He glanced at you once more and then looked away again, even though you weren’t looking at him. Your gaze was fixed on the creek in front of you.

“I don’t know,” you said after a moment. “I think I’m less decided about it now. I admire my mum for having the courage for it, even though it rarely ever works out. And now I guess I think that it is more of a case-by-case kind of thing. It depends on the person.”

Feeling as if his chest had absorbed the water from the pond and everything inside of him was being flooded, Jungkook didn’t dare to inhale.

Breathlessly, he asked, “what about me?”

“You?” you echoed awkwardly. He gave the smallest of nods in response.

You realised quickly that you hadn’t said this to him in over four years, and it felt terrifying to admit it now with the solemn trees, a hurried creek, and curious squirrels for an audience.

“Well, fuck.” You swallowed. “I mean, I love you. You know?” You chuckled to hide your unease and leaned down to touch the blades of grass growing under the bench. “Too much for my own good, probably.”

Jungkook suddenly forgot how to breathe. He looked up instead, but only caught a glimpse of the stars in the sky before he closed his eyes. The view behind his eyelids felt more special to him than the shimmering sky above—it was all darkness and dim echoes of you saying you loved him.

He couldn’t tell you now. How could he? You loved him.

And a second chance with you was all he’d ever wanted.

When he opened his eyes again, you were watching him. There was a haziness in your eyes—from the starry night, from the motorcycle drive, from the long overdue confession—and a small smile on your lips.

The moment that his eyes drifted to your lips, he felt himself inhale—more than once and he would have floated away—before he leaned in, responding to everything you’d said with a kiss.

He’d tell you about the bet, he would—but not now. Not when he felt your breath hitch as his lips touched yours. Not when you kissed him back, replacing all air in his lungs with your taste.

Right now, neither of you needed to say any other word as the forest around you settled. The leaves were frozen as if the wind didn’t dare to rustle them for fear of interrupting you.

The thought made you smile into the kiss—what a self-centred way to interpret your surroundings—and Jungkook pulled you closer.

For a minute, he made it feel like the world really did stop turning for the two of you. Like the forces of the universe had interfered to—

He pulled away all of a sudden, breathing so heavily that he was nearly hyperventilating.

He couldn’t do this. He’d already done too much.

The time that he’d borrowed—that he’d stolen—to be with you in peace had run out. Not even the universe could give it back to him.

“I’m sorry. There’s just, um,” he began, looking down and bringing a hesitant finger over his lower lip. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

You felt your heart skip over a beat.

Immediately, you found yourself returning to the hotel room in Amsterdam. It felt vastly different now and the difference sobered you up—you had been in your hotel room then, but you were alone in an empty park tonight. And you realised that discussing it here would be a mistake.

Whatever he was about to tell you might make it difficult for you to stay here and you would have no way to leave.

“Wait,” you said. The word caught him off guard. “Tell me when we get back.”

He blinked. The very reason why he’d brought you here was to tell you the truth in a place that was yours for the night.

“W-why?” he asked.

“It’s not fair to me otherwise,” you said. Your heart had shifted from pleasant pounding to near-panicked banging, and you were starting to feel nauseous. “I’d be very inconvenienced if I was left here alone.”

Jungkook appeared even more perplexed. “Why would you be—I’m not leaving. I’m staying with you.”

“That’s assuming I don’t kill you after you tell me what you’re about to tell me,” you tried to joke. There was a small—almost desperate—smirk on the corner of your lips.

Jungkook looked away.

“Oh.” Nervously, he licked his lips. He hadn’t considered you being so uncomfortable after he told you that you wouldn’t want him around. And now that he thought about it, he felt a little dizzy. “Well, that’s, uh… that’s fair enough. Should we—do you want to go back?”

The dread in your stomach seemed to grow at this question.

You knew that you had to be aware of what was happening with him, but the ceremony of it—the trip to this beautiful spot and the kiss that unintentionally coaxed him into the truth—scared you.

You wanted to resist the rational parts of your mind and stay here, where you had just forbidden him from speaking about this.

“Not really,” you admitted.

Jungkook nodded, relieved by your honesty. “Me neither.”

So, you stayed still for another minute. Then another minute. And another one. Until all the additional time you’d given yourselves had run out, too.

You peeked at Jungkook out of the corner of your eye, afraid suddenly that he would look back at you and then you’d have to talk, after all.

He seemed very far away. Much further than that first night in Amsterdam, when he came to your hotel room to talk.

Now there were sirens blaring in his head and a relentless pounding in his chest. You could almost hear it when you looked at him.

At last, you said, “but we can’t stay here forever.”

Despite looking like he had drifted into another realm deep inside of his mind, Jungkook sighed. He’d been listening to you breathe, listening to the way the wind played with your hair. He was here.

But he really wished he wasn’t.

“I know,” he said.

Still, the two of you remained on the bench for another five minutes, surrounded by the quiet rustling of the weary trees. Even they seemed anxious for you.

This might be the last silence the two of you would share, Jungkook thought grimly.

He felt terrified.

Finally, he took a breath and turned to you. “Let’s—”

A faint buzzing from the back pocket of your jeans startled you both. The sound seemed so foreign here, like something that had travelled across time and space, and accidentally ended up here—in your universe, where it didn’t belong.

You pulled out your phone and saw, first of all, that it was four in the morning, and then that Namjoon was calling you.

“I should take this,” you whispered, overwhelmed by the tension that had left your hands very cold.

“Go ahead,” Jungkook mumbled.

This was fine, he tried to tell himself while you stepped away from him to answer the call. He would take you back to the truck stop where the tour buses should have been parked by now. And then he would tell you.

And whatever happened next would—

“So, that was Namjoon,” you said, returning to him with your phone in hand. The call had lasted for less than a minute. “Apparently, someone stole Yoongi’s laptop.”

Nearly thrown off balance at the news that sounded somehow disrespectful, considering the many things you already had to process, Jungkook frowned.

“Someone stole Yoongi’s laptop?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” you said, sliding the phone back into your pocket. You knew something like this would eventually happen. “Namjoon said that he and Yoongi went out for more drinks, and when they got back to the bus, the laptop was gone. They’re not sure when was the last time they saw it.”

Jungkook stood up from the bench. “Well, why do they think someone stole it? Maybe he just lost it.”

“Yoongi’s not the kind who loses things,” you pointed out.

“Well, Namjoon could have lent a hand with that.”

You shook your head to conceal your small, involuntary smile and shrugged, acknowledging that there was a chance that this really was a false alarm. Especially if Namjoon was involved. You all loved him very much, but he had a talent like no one else to consistently misplace his own—and others—belongings.

“They were already quite drunk when I talked to them backstage before leaving,” you said. “So it’s possible they got even more wasted and just lost track of it. Either way, I need to go back and find out what happened.”

You returned to being the band’s manager, and Jungkook wasn’t sure how to handle the sudden switch. He wasn’t sure how to handle anything that was happening. This whole park was spinning around him.

He felt a little bit like the creek behind him as he watched you—flowing somewhere on pure instinct, with no clear destination in sight.

“Yeah. Okay,” he said. Hesitantly, he extended his hand for you to take—to help you over the loose wooden plank again. And to ground himself with your touch. “Let’s go, then. We’ll talk later?”

You took his hand. “Yeah. We’ll talk later.”

The truth was, you did not want to talk later.

You had a terrible feeling about it, and however irresponsible it may have been, you wanted to delay it as much as possible.

When you and Jungkook returned to the truck stop, Yoongi and Namjoon had already figured out where the laptop was. They looked very pleased to have remembered the Locate My Device app, never mind that you were the one who had kindly reminded them about it over the phone.

The laptop was, as it turned out, at a McDonald’s across the city. Neither boy could recall ever going there, so they remained convinced the device had been stolen.

You listened to their hypothesis with a serious face. But, unlike them, you were sober—the few beers you’d had after the concert were long forgotten—and you knew that the “thief” would probably be smart enough not to stop for a McFlurry after stealing someone’s computer.

The logical explanation was that your usually lovable and dependable boys had gotten so drunk that they’d forgotten about the fast food trip and left the laptop there themselves.

Regardless, you had to investigate. Because Yoongi and Namjoon were both pale with terror—and still buzzing from the spontaneous beer-tasting adventure that they’d gone on—it was up to you to find the computer.

You didn’t mind. This was your job, anyway. And you were eager to do something that did not involve talking about whatever it was that Jungkook wanted to talk to you about.

Jungkook, on the other hand, did mind. And it was evident when you exited the bus and saw him standing by the doors, pouting.

“I have to pick up the laptop,” you said, “and maybe report it to the police if it was really stolen.”

“Should I come with you?” he offered, not meaning to give you the option to refuse—which you took, of course.

“No,” you said, “you need to rest.”

“And you don’t?” he countered. “You’re the one who’s so overworked that—”

“Don’t start with that again,” you said, raising a stern hand to cut him off before someone overheard. You caught the flash of surprise in his eyes and the expression on your face softened a little.

You hadn’t meant to sound harsh, but you’ve had an impossibly long day.

“Don't worry about me,” you said. “This is my job. I have things to do. Laptops to save.”

“If I come, then—”

“Stay here,” you interrupted. “You had a show tonight. Now you have to get some sleep. I’ll be back soon.”

Biting his lip as mixed feelings of guilt and regret bubbled in his stomach, he asked, “we’ll, uh—we’ll talk, though. Right?”

“We’ll talk,” you promised. “Tomorrow.”

He fought with himself for another moment and then ended up saying, “okay. You never take me with you anyway.”

You didn’t have time to argue, so you kissed him before you went—quickly, softly, and with a nervous smile as you pulled away—and his heart seemed to leave with you as empty echoes of his racing pulse reverberated through his chest.

Tomorrow was very far away.

That would have been good if Jungkook still felt the paralysing panic from a few days ago. But even though he still felt scared now, he had already braced himself for the emotional consequences of telling you about the bet. Delaying it—against his will, this time—felt excruciating.

He knew he was the one to blame – he kissed you in the park instead of telling you about it right away, and then he agreed to wait until tomorrow.

And maybe this was what he deserved. He should have told you. But he hesitated and tried to convince himself of all sorts of irrational thoughts—and now here he was.

Alone.

And he was so frightened of being alone that he climbed right back on the motorcycle and headed to the address of the rental shop that Minjun had given him. He needed to do something, because he couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t scream at the top of his lungs, either.

Easily enough, Jungkook found himself in the bar of a hotel across the street from the rental shop. The shop didn’t open until eight, so he had a little over two hours before he could return the bike. A little over two hours before the night ended and he had to figure out what to do next.

He finished his first glass before a single thought could occur to him. By the second one, he felt his body start to relax, but chaos continued to reign in his mind.

What will I do, what will I do, what will I do?

As Jungkook lost track of how many drinks he had, he pondered every which way to reveal this to you and all the questions that you might ask.

What was the trip to Paris for? And the persistent way he followed you around? The conversation on the bridge in Stockholm? On the rooftop in Oslo? The bicycles in Amsterdam? The nights in your hotel room?

None of that was truly for the bet. But would it matter?

You said you loved him tonight. But you’d hate him tomorrow.

Maybe he could wait for five days until he formally lost the bet. Maybe he should tell you then. Maybe the fact that he lost something important to him would make up for—no.

Jungkook shook his head, nearly spilling the bourbon in his glass. He paused then, not even sure if he was still drinking bourbon. It all just tasted wet to him at that point.

Regardless, he couldn’t tell you after losing the bike. Even losing it didn’t seem like such a tragedy right now, compared to losing you.

While he agonised over it, the bartender continued bringing him drinks—always on the rocks, even though he couldn’t feel the cold anymore. The bartender was a kind elderly man, who probably should have known better than to keep serving alcohol to someone at six in the morning, but his experience told him that Jungkook was someone who needed it tonight.

Soon, however, Jungkook’s pride—his high tolerance for alcohol—became his biggest foe. He didn’t even realise how intoxicated he had become.

For all intents and purposes, he believed he was still fairly sober, considering how easily he spilt everything that was bothering him to the bartender. He even understood the advice he received in return—not that there was much to it.

“You have to tell her, son.”

He did have to tell you. He knew that.

And he was going to, he decided. Right now.

Jungkook found his way out of the bar with relative ease. Sure, he forgot that he had driven Minjun’s bike there, but he was able to walk without stumbling much, and that surely had to be an achievement.

Swaying only slightly, he stopped in the lot where the bus was parked and found your contact in his phone. Of course, the many emojis he’d used ensured that your name was the first one on the list, but he still found it easily enough.

Now, he had to admit this: he wasn’t sure if you actually answered his call. But he asked you to please, come outside, and within three minutes, you were standing in front of him.

If he had been aware of how drunk he was, he would have realised that he was screaming, so it didn’t matter if you’d picked up his call or not. You would have heard him anyway.

“What’s going on?” you asked, too confused to feel worried. You’d just returned with Yoongi’s laptop about half an hour ago. You weren’t sure if you’d even fallen asleep before coming outside again. “Are you drunk?”

There was exhaustion in your posture that Jungkook was too drunk to identify. You were very tired of dealing with the problems of drunk people tonight.

When Jungkook spoke, words poured out before he could properly think them through.

“Listen,” he said. His tongue felt oversized in his mouth. “I have to tell you something. I can’t—I should’ve told you this a long time ago. Maybe on the same day. Actually,” he hiccupped, “I never should’ve done this at all, then there would be nothing to tell.”

He hesitated for a moment, because in his mind—which was positively swimming in whiskey—he worried that his words may have caused a misunderstanding. He saw the frown on your face and cut in before you started to speak.

“Actually, no,” he said. “There would be things to tell. Because I like—I really—I like to talk to you. I want to tell you all kinds of things...” he paused here. Shook his head. “But not this. I don’t want to tell you this. But I must.”

He thought he came off very determined here, very confident. Really, he just sounded tired and drunk.

“Jungkook,” you said. “When I said we’ll talk tomorrow, I meant in the morning.”

“It’s—” He hiccupped again. “It’s morning.”

He wasn’t wrong, of course.

“After we got some sleep,” you clarified.

“Well, I can’t wait that long,” he insisted, stomping his foot and throwing himself off-balance. He had to lean against the side of the bus to stay upright.

You could tell that whatever he wanted to tell you was far worse than you expected. He was so drunk that he could barely stand, yet he was as determined as ever to get it all out right now.

You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest. The anxiety that you’d evaded was quick to resurface, and even you felt a little unsteady on your feet.

“Okay,” you said. “Well, what is it?”

Jungkook straightened as much as he could.

A deep inhale, followed by a sharp, rushed exhale.

“I made a bet with Sid that I’d get back together with you.”

Silence came next.

You felt a sinking sensation deep within you as if something—an invisible current—was pulling you under the surface of the water. The ground beneath you swirled in uncertain whirlpools.

“Sid said I couldn’t do it,” Jungkook continued after a moment, his eyes cast low. “And I was—I wanted to prove him wrong. He is wrong. He’s always wrong, he’s such a—anyday. I mean, anyway. T-that’s not—I didn’t—this isn’t making any sense.” He slapped himself on the forehead in newfound frustration and you flinched at the abrupt motion. The slap only made the truck stop start to spin around him. Pressing his hands to his hips, he tried to explain, “I didn’t win or anything. Which you obviously know, since we aren’t back together.”

He laughed sadly here. You narrowed your eyes and felt one of them twitch.

The night was cold, and you clutched your arms tighter around yourself. Your posture was not aggressive—you gazed somewhere past him and you appeared frightened. You looked as if the wind might snatch you and carry you off to a place that he could not reach.

But then your eyes met his and there was a frigid emptiness there that he didn’t recognise. He shrunk into himself when he noticed it.

“I-I bet my bike, so I lost that,” he continued. “Well, not yet, but I’m going to lose it soon. Not on purpose, but Sid won’t fucking let me end the bet—” he cut himself off by inhaling again.

It seemed like there was so much oxygen in his lungs—he kept breathing in as he spoke, but never breathing out.

“That’s not the point,” he finished his thought. “What I wanted to do—to say, I mean—is that I’m sorry. I wasn’t—I shouldn’t have done that. It was stupid. Sid got in my head.”

“Sid,” you repeated suddenly. The sharp sound of your voice startled him into looking up. “Got in your head.”

He looked at you for half a heartbeat. Somewhere in the whiskey haze, he could recall his conversation with Taehyung—or someone who resembled Taehyung. Jungkook remembered something about this being his own responsibility.

But then, he wasn’t sure if he remembered who Taehyung even was. Because, to be honest, he wasn’t sure if he remembered who he was.

“That’s an—that’s… that’s an excuse,” he managed to say. The letter S tasted wrong in his mouth. He clicked his tongue and continued, “he’s always in my head. I should’ve known better. I—I’m so sorry.”

You were breathing heavily, but you weren’t speaking.

He blinked his heavy eyes, each one of his eyelashes like lead.

“I just… I want you to know that everything that happened—it wasn’t because of the bet,” he said, swallowing after a great struggle. All these drinks tonight, and his throat still felt dry. “It was because I am—I really have been in love with you the whole time, and I—but I couldn’t—I can’t ask you to get back together while there’s this bet going on. Not that you’d agree—I just hope that you would—but I... i-it wouldn’t feel fair. It’s so—it’s all so fucking stupid.”

He groaned again and covered his face with his hands for a moment while he tried to collect his thoughts. There was so much he wanted to tell you and all of it was coming out so quickly that he wasn’t sure he told you anything at all.

“I had to—I should’ve told you sooner,” he said. Then, biting his lip harder than he’d meant to—the metal piercing dug into it painfully—he added, more softly, “I’m really sorry.”

You remained firm in your position and really started to resemble a statue. Contrary to what he expected, you didn’t ask him a single question. You just stared at him without any distinct emotion in your eyes.

He didn’t know what to do.

“Aren’t you,” he said shakily, “going to say anything?”

You finally moved—to inhale, then exhale. All through it, your chin was turned up as you looked at the line of trees in the distance.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you,” you finally said.

It was a sharp knife to his chest, this hollow voice that was supposed to belong to you.

He hung his head and took a deep breath.

None of this mattered.

It was over.

“You’re drunk,” you added then. “Go to sleep.”

He thought he caught a glimpse of sympathy in your words and he grasped at this flimsy straw and held onto it with all his might.

“Y-you heard me, though, right?” he tried, his voice desperate, eyes watery. “None of it was for the bet, I really—”

“Go to sleep, Jungkook.”

He couldn’t go to sleep, not if it meant he’d have no one to wake up to.

“Can I—” He coughed, the words catching on the sandpaper in his throat. “Can I talk to you in the morning?”

You stayed silent for a long, almost never-ending minute. Jungkook counted each second in his head, and he knew he might have messed up the numbers at least three times, but it still felt like you’d never speak again.

“I don’t think,” you finally said, “we have anything left to talk about.”

You turned around, but stopped for less than a moment, seemingly hesitating when you heard him call your name. Then you took another step and opened the door of the bus, climbing inside and leaving him here alone.

This wasn’t the first time you walked away from him, but this time, he knew it was his fault.

And there was another element to the suffocating grip around his neck—ever since you began to manage Rated Riot, you’d never left him alone when he was drunk.

But you left him tonight.

And even drunk, he knew what it meant.

He thought he’d prepared himself for this. But the sight of your back as you walked away from him, the sound of the bus door as it clicked shut behind you, and the feeling of complete silence around him at the truck stop—it all finally knocked all the oxygen out of his lungs. It made his heart beat faster, ridding his bloodstream of alcohol until all that he felt was pain.

He was not prepared for this. He doubted he ever could have prepared for it.

But he should have known this would happen.

He really fucked up. He ruined everything. It was over.

Hunching over as he tried to inhale but couldn’t, Jungkook pressed his hand to his chest. He felt something pulsating under his fingers, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Someone had emptied out the cavity inside of him where his organs had once been and filled it with rocks.

His vision was white and blurred. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t stand.

He didn’t know what was happening to him.

He felt himself slide over the side of the bus until he hit the floor and smacked his head into the bus wall as violent tremors took over his body. He tried to breathe as he counted the beats of his heart until he couldn’t listen to his pulse whispering the same conclusion to him over and over again.

It was over.

It was over.

It was over.

It was—

His hand dug into the gravel on the ground, then grabbed the front of his shirt and held it in a tight fist. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Nothing worked to stop the relentless judgment from breaching his resistant mind.

He ruined everything. It was over.

Jungkook didn’t know how long he struggled to fill his lungs with something other than the heavy, opaque pain of losing you again.

He didn’t know why he struggled, nothing even mattered anymore.

When he eventually realised that he was still here and you still weren’t, there was an early morning redness in his eyes and on the edges of the sky above him.

Most unusually, the only clear thought in his head was about the bike that he’d told Minjun he would return. Another promise that he had failed to keep as he suddenly remembered abandoning the motorcycle by the bar.

Then he remembered the bar.

He had already drunk half of it.

He struggled to his feet, rubbed his eyes with the balls of his palms, and went back to finish the other half.

chapter title credits: bad omens, “what do you want from me?”

prev ○ next

[moominsuki]

✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — 4:58 pm

࿄ ! warnings — f!reader, suggestive, mentions of sex /. note i am sorry it’s been so long :/ but please appreciate this as an apology!

“i think that’s it. guests should be coming some time within the next few hours so we can just sit back and relax until then,” you sigh, hands on hips and smiling at your boyfriend who collapses onto the couch.

“thank fuck,” grumbles bakugou, resting his legs on the coffee table and you gasp, stomping over to him and nudging his legs off with your own foot.

“i’ll have you know i spent all hours of yesterday and today cleaning that table up and i won’t have your grubby legs leaving marks. you’re free to lay down on the couch though,” you say indignantly and bakugou groans in annoyance, looking up at your furrowed brows and exaggerated angry face.

“a man can’t put his feet up in his own house? what has this world come to?” bakugou dramatises, leaned back with his arms folded and you roll your eyes, brushing and patting the blond’s head.

“it’ll be over before you know it, kats’” you hum, sitting besides bakugou and kissing his cheek, “plus, your parents have been dying to see the place. we won’t have to entertain anyone for a good few months after.”

bakugou peeks one eye open at you and you take the opportunity to kiss him again, this time on his pouty lips. bakugou grabs you by the waist, pulling you onto his lap and you half-squeal.

“a few months? more like a few years,” he contends.

you scoff, “i was being generous with saying months, baby.”

bakugou narrows his eyes and shrugs.

“i think i was bein’ pretty generous with sayin’ years too.”

you open your mouth to argue but bakugou’s hands delve under your flowy summer dress and he’s kissing at your neck.

“oh no you don’t, mister. not now-!” you scold, but it dies on your tongue when your boyfriend digs his teeth into your clavicle and his kisses become noisy and borderline erotic. and were your hips always grinding down on his slacks like that?

“this dress is doin’ things to me, pretty,” bakugou groans and his lips find yours again and you subconsciously place your hands on his face, pulling him in.

“i know orange is your favourite on me,” you breathe, and bakugou chuckles, heavy hands delving into your underwear and groping your ass.

“damn right it is. fuck, you’re irresistible.”

you whine when bakugou continues kissing over you, almost effectively shutting you up.

almost.

“no! katsuki, get off me before i punch you!” you yell and your pushes are half hearted at best and bakugou stops, raising a tentative brow while his hands still rest on your bare buttocks. his expression is heavy - eyes deep set and dark, lips puffy and cheeks warm with pale pink hues against his tanned face.

“one hour,” he proclaims and it’s your turn to give him a quizzical look.

“i’ll fuck you so good within the hour that you’ll never wanna host anybody else except for us.”

you should push your horny boyfriend off. you really should just wait until the guests get here and ignore him. this goes against your better judgement - betting using sexual conquest.

“i can’t stand you,” you mumble, your hands in his hair as you capture his lips in a passionate, wet kiss.

your boyfriend turns you to lay the both of you on the couch and he’s smirking, all too smug for your liking.

“you get anything on my dress and i’ll invite people over at least once a month.”

the smirk never drops from his face, for it only deepens.

“you wanna sit on my face first?”

needless to say, not a drop of cum was spilled onto your silk dress within the hour of your fun, although you had to solemnly explain to his mother why you weren’t hosting for christmas this year. still, that was much less embarrassing to explain than the wet stain on the couch, to which bakugou shrugs, covering over it with a throw pillow.

“better the couch an’ not your lovely dress, right?” says your boyfriend, lifting a glass bottle to his lips and his mother agrees endearingly. it doesn’t help the flashbacks of him hiking your dress clad leg over his shoulder and pushing it up your waist, not before nudging his mouth over yours.

your eyes meet bakugou’s bright and cheeky ones as he wraps an arm around your waist, acting nonchalant as ever. oh, you were so going to get him back for this.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Seeds of Fate

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You and your group of friends enjoy the carnival before it shuts down for the rest of the year. Spencer and his friends decide to pass the time and enjoy some of the rides as a way to unwind from their stressful jobs. You and Spencer don’t always see eye to eye but maybe this is a chance for you two to grow closer… much closer.

Square Filled: carnival au (2022) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

The carnival is only in town for another two days so the park is packed with people trying to get in their fun before the carnival moves on to the next town in the next state. You’ve been planning to go since you love amusement parks but never had any time to go. The girls from your gym class had planned on going the last weekend it’s open and invited you.

The girls are giggling when they enter the carnival after getting tickets. You’ve been giggling like schoolgirls ever since you arrived and it’s a bit annoying now. They’re the type the girls that love drama and you don’t need that right now.

“What are you two giggling about?”

“Have you heard from Spencer?”

You want to roll your eyes. Of course, they’d be gossiping about you and Spencer Reid. Ever since you told them about the man who works three floors above you, that’s all they can talk about. Spencer is a good guy but you think he’s arrogant. He’s a know-it-all and always tries to prove he’s the smartest guy in the room. It’s infuriating, and it doesn’t help that he’s gorgeous. He knows he gets on your nerves and comes down to your floor as often as he can just so he can rub it in your face how great he is.

“What about him?” you sigh.

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N. We all know he’s so into you.”

“What?” You look at them like they have three heads. “No, he doesn’t. He’s annoying and he pisses me off.”

“Have you ever thought he only does that because then your attention is on him? You don’t see him visiting anyone else but you on that floor.”

“How do you know? You don’t even work there.”

“Penelope tells me,” your friend grins.

Penelope went to your gym class once and bonded with one of your friends. You didn’t know that she kept in touch with her.

“Whatever. There’s nothing between us. I don’t think I could handle him telling me how great he is every two seconds.”

Despite your objections, they all giggle knowing you’re into him as much as he is into you. They think the reason he gets on your nerves so much is because you hate how attracted you are to him. Yes, you’re attracted to smart guys but Spencer takes it to a whole new level. You try to be the smart one but Spencer always has something to say, always trying to disprove your theories, and often tells you that if his team had just listened to him, things might have been different.

The first thing your friend stops at is one of the food stands. They hadn’t eaten all day and it’s not a good idea to ride on an empty stomach. You won’t get a meal but something to snack on so that you don’t feel queasy on rides. You’re in line when you hear hollers come from the right of you. The entire BAU team besides Hotch and Rossi are there laughing at something Derek said. Spencer runs his hand through his hair and shakes his head which makes his hair look fluffier than normal.

You have to admit, he does look incredible. They’re all dressed in normal clothing which is such a stark contrast to the professional clothing they wear on the daily. Spencer is dressed in black jeans, black and white Converse, a dark purple button-up, a black jacket, and a bright purple scarf wrapped twice around his neck. It’s a bit chilly but you know once the sun goes down, it’ll be very cold. That’s why you decided to wear one of your thicker jackets.

Maybe it won’t be so bad to date Spencer. No! Do not let what’s between your legs decide if you should date him! You bet he’d know how to pleasure a woman the right way. He thinks he’s so smart…

“Y/N?” You look at Amber and notice her smirk. “It’s your turn to order unless you’d like to continue to stare at Spencer.”

“Shut up,” you mumble.

“Go talk to him.”

“No. Leave me alone.”

Her laughter haunts you even after you walk away with food in hand. After having a snack, you and your friends head out to the most thrilling of rides. Most of them you go on but there are a few that you refuse to go on. Ones like the Drop Tower and most notably, the Zipper. There is no way you’re ever getting in that death trap especially when it doesn’t have any straps to hold you in place. You have to go in pairs to be safe and there are seven in your friend group. You’re more than happy to sit this one out.

As you’re waiting, you smile when you hear your friends scream in delight from being tossed around like ragdolls.

“I’m surprised to see you here.” You look to the right and see Spencer approaching. “I thought you didn’t like rides like these.”

He remembered? You only mentioned it once while passing by him.

“I like thrill rides just not this one. My friends are on there. I’m surprised you’re here. Isn’t this place too childish for someone like you?”

“Someone like me? Care to elaborate on that?”

“You know, a smarty-pants? A know-it-all? I figure you like to live it up in libraries.”

“I do have fun browsing the historical section.” You scoff and shake your head but you have a smile on your face. “I’m not all stiff and proper as you might think. I do like to go out and have fun.”

“What? You? Have fun? Do you even know what the word means?”

“Although its etymology is uncertain, it has been speculated that it may be derived from Middle English fonne meaning ‘fool’ and fonnen meaning ‘the one fooling the other’. Evidence shows that fun first appeared in English in the late 1600s. Fun was a French invention, along with lace and jousting; before the Norman Conquest in the 11th century, fun was unknown in the British Isles. Chaucer was the first to notably dabble in fun. While many English writers of the 14th century turned to high-flying concepts like religion, mythology, and romance—Latin concepts that had made their way to England in the saddlebags of the Norman French—Chaucer turned instead to a truly Anglo-French combination of fun and fart jokes.”

Spencer does a double take when he sees the look on your face, and a slight blush creeps up his neck.

“I mean, yeah, I do.” He clears his throat and looks at the Zipper. “So, you hate this ride?”

“Yeah.” You can’t help but smile at his rambling. He might be a pain in the ass but it’s cute to watch him ramble about things. “I don’t like being jerked around for fun.”

“If you go on with me, I’ll protect you.”

“My hero,” you say sarcastically.

The ride ends and lets your friends off who are laughing from the sensation.

“Look! It’s Spencer!” Amber grins and looks between you two. “What are you doing over here? Where are your friends?”

“They ditched me. I turn my back for one second and they disappear. I’m sure I’ll hear from them after they get tired of riding rides and want something to eat.”

“Why don’t you hang with us in the meantime? Y/N will need some company when we go on the Drop Tower next.”

“Sure, if she’ll have me,” he says and looks at you.

“Don’t be silly. Of course, she will.”

Yes, Spencer had some fun facts about the Drop Tower that you didn't mind hearing. His friends came and tried to get him but he wanted to stay with you for a little while longer and would meet up with them later. The next ride you’re going on is one you all love, the Ferris Wheel. Your friends pile into the first car, and Amber stops to talk to the attendant letting people on. She whispers something to him and points to you and Spencer before smirking. You’re about to get on when he puts his arm up to stop you.

“I’m sorry, this one is full. You’ll have to take the next one.”

“This one isn’t full. There are at least four more seats available.”

“You heard the man. You and Spencer can catch the next one,” Amber smirks.

You glare at her just as the doors close. I’m gonna kill her. The ride moves along to the next empty one, stopping right before you and Spencer. You two climb on and the attendant stops the next couple of people from going on. That little Minx. The ride begins its ascend to the top slowly, stopping to let passengers on and off. 

You’re not sure what to say to Spencer so you don’t say anything. Spencer looks out the window and seems fixated on a single spot as if he’s staring at something. You lean closer to the edge and see what he’s seeing. There is an older couple maybe in their seventies standing off to the side with a single Cotton Candy treat for both of them to share. The man rips a piece off and feeds his wife who takes it with a smile on her face.

“Look, that’ll be us in sixty years,” you joke with Spencer.

“I don’t mind taking care of you for the rest of my life if it means I get to be with you.”

You look at Spencer and realize just how close you two are. If you were to slide two inches to the right, you’d be right in his lap. He glances down at your lips before crashing his mouth to yours. Spencer needed to take the leap before he talked himself out of kissing you. You’re glad he did because kissing him feels like you’re on Cloud 9. The Ferris Wheel stops at the very top, allowing you to overlook the entire park.

However, you’re not doing much looking.

x

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[acciocriativity]

THE 'U' IN 'US' - AN ATEEZ SERIES - CHAPTER ZERO

Summary: You weren't really the lonely girl™ of campus, but it does feel like it when you look around, and there's no one by your side when everyone else are talking and whispering between each other. You did have "friends", more like "group projet friends" that you managed to get for yourself, but they were the ones that were real close, you were there only when they had an extra empty seat. But it seems like the gods above took your nonchalant facade as a challenge. Oh, you don't think you need friends to survive through college? Bet.

Pairing: Non! idol OT8 ateez x reader (platonic)

Tags: college! au; hybrid! au; ateez! au; fluff (a whole lot of fluff and wholesomeness); angst; hurt/comfort; mentions of mistreatment and abuse.

WC: 2,2k

N/A: It's finally here!! Please reblog and let me know your thoughts, the feedback is really important to me 💕 If you want to be tagged, also let me know!

INTRO MASTERLIST ONE

Ateez Masterlist

Don’t you remember us?, the words repeating in your head as you stared back at the brown haired boy. Now that your attention was on him and him only, you noticed the smallest of ears picking up from his hair, the color blend made it almost invisible. He was not a human, he was a bear hybrid, and you remembered exactly where you met him for the first time.

The police station was a complete chaos that day. It was a sudden change from the monotony of the small town your father started working at the beginning of his career. There was at least double the people walking left and right. Doing what? You’d never know, but it seemed important enough that you’re too scared to interrupt any of them to ask where was the bathroom, much less your father. He was not in the best mood since you moved, and you hated to be the reason for more stress. Also, he busied himself in conversations you could only watch from a distance, not even keeping his eyes on you sat at an old chair.

He won’t even notice that I left…, how stupid of you.

You wandered off, walking next to the walls so no one would bump into you while carrying a stack of thick papers. There was no sign of a bathroom in the room you were, you didn’t even know where you were, no idea it was the heart of that police station.

You kept walking further and further out of the room into the empty hallways at the back, ignoring the signs at the top of each door, too focused on the triangle dress symbol you couldn’t find. You turned right, but you only found a single wooden door.

The sight was discouraging to say the least.

You sighed, or you thought you did, because you heard it, but it didn’t seem like it came out of your own mouth. Then you heard another sigh, now you were sure it wasn’t you.

You stared at the door a little longer, then up to the sign at the top of it, it said ‘RH waiting room’. You didn’t even know what RH was. A waiting room so far back? Maybe there is a bathroom inside of it. That was enough for you to grab the handle, but it wouldn’t open.

“You have to be kidding me”, you said as you looked up to the ceiling, but you hoped all the gods above could see your disappointment. You were out of luck for the 4th time this week.

Inside the room, there was only silence, something you didn’t notice right away. If you were there, you would be able to feel the tension and fear as the hybrid stared at the door.

“Hey, is there a bathroom in here?”, Jongho repeated the first words you said to him back to you. “You remember now, yeah?”, he could see the embarrassment coming back as you recalled what happened after that, which made him giggle with the others.

You never remembered that moment as funny, because your father told you what RH stood for and why anyone would be there in the first place. But he did.

“Wait, that’s actually the first thing you said to him?”, the one with the bunny ears asked, while laughing so hard he almost fell.

“Yes, I did Min…” you tried to recall as he leaned forward, a glee of expectation in his face as you said his name. “…gi, of course, Mingi”, you said as casually as you could.

He seemed so happy, you felt bad that it was whispered to you behind his back. You would get to it eventually, he did make a good impression of himself when you first saw him too.

“I do think I remember each one of you”, you said as you looked at each of them, one getting harder to greet than the other, until you reached the last two, Yunho and Hongjoong. They didn’t seem to hold any grudges against you, Yunho smiling wider than Hongjoong, but that was a given considering the little you knew about their personalities.

“It’s okay if you don’t, it’s been quite a while”, the blonde boy gestured it wasn’t a big deal with his hands. “I’m Yunho”.

“You didn’t have blonde hair back then…”, you trailed off as you remembered the one day you wished to forget.

“Nor the height, it’s truly unfair”, Wooyoung said with a sad tone as he gave the blonde one a side eye, but his fluffy red tail continued to bounce back and right with energy.

That comment made everyone giggle a little, even yourself. It was true, he grew up well that one, he seemed well nurtured too. That thought calmed your heart a bit.

“So can we sit, then?”, Mingi asked then sighed as if he was standing for hours by the table. Even his long bunny ears were tired of standing on top of his head, alert of all movement around him. He got one lightweight slap on the arm for that. “Ow… why-“, before he could whine, you interrupted.

“Of course, but there’s no-, Hongjoong, Yunho and San already went to get some extra chairs before you could finish the phrase, while the other 5 got comfortable in their sits.

Only then you noticed they wouldn’t be eating since there were no plates

“Do you guys want some?”, you asked as you looked down at your food.

They all declined, including the three ones that just came back with chairs, but you could see some of them eyeing your fries for a bit too long, so you slid the plate to the middle of the table.

“So, every single one of you came to study here, and this is a complete coincidence or this conversation has another purpose than to chitchat?”

In your mind, there was a clear answer. They wanted something from you, and you’ll be glad to give it to them if you could, but what can you do when the cases closed so many years ago?

“We saw you around campus”, Wooyoung said as he leaned over the table, you noticed one of his hands holding onto San’s arm, just like you remembered. “We didn’t think you would recognize us, though”, Hongjoong added after a beat of silence.

“So you followed me here? I don’t get it”, you looked at each one of them.

“No, w-”, Jongho said, but then looked at San and Yunho’s guilty smiles and back to you. “Kind of, some of us saw you around two other times, we weren’t sure it was you the first time, but your scent didn’t change much from back then…”, his voice losing its confidence and volume by the end of the phrase.

“We hoped you would be here, we did not see you today”, Seonghwa cut him off as he leaned forward. His smile was shy, but you could see it was sincere. “That’s the only time of the day we all have to be together before dinner, so don’t worry, we weren’t stalking you together like this”, he giggled while talking and then gestured to them all at the end of the phrase.

The effort Seonghwa had to make to not cover himself with his ears were more than he could express. He was glad his tail was out of sight, clinging to Hongjoong’s thighs in search of some comfort.

It was a weird feeling to be in front of you after so long, and Seonghwa knew the others would agree. He noticed how Yeosang was uncomfortable, readjusting his position on the chair every so often, and how San’s legs bounced without him even noticing.

“Well, that’s good to know”, it was easy for you to smile when they were being so adorable without even making an effort. “But that doesn’t really answer my question, so did you guys just wanted to talk?”

On one side, you had Mingi and Yeosang barely looking at you, at anyone for that matter. Then you had Hongjoong and San, apparently the air was so dry to the point they needed to wet their lips every 3 seconds. Seonghwa, Jongho and Yunho were too awkward to say it first, they could only smile to try to hide their own embarrassment. Wooyoung was eating to keep himself calm.

“Is it that bad?”, your joke made Yunho and Seonghwa giggle and shook their heads. “Then you can tell me, it’s okay, did I make that big of an impression in some of you when we met?”, it was supposed to be a joke, they were supposed to laugh.

But all of them nodded. In such a serious way, too, they weren’t awkward smiling anymore. Their staring suddenly became intense. You couldn’t pretend they didn’t mean it, and you didn’t know what to do with that information.

What could you say? You didn’t do anything to help them, you couldn’t do anything at that age and with the little independence you had. Not to them, nor any other hybrid who stepped foot into that police station.

Your silence spoke for you, and your surprise spoke more than you intended to.

“We just wanted to see how you were doing and to show you how we were doing”, Hongjoong broke the silence.

“I’m glad you all are doing well”, they recognize a certain softness as you said those words, they knew you meant it from your heart.

It was this softness you carried with you whenever you spoke to them that made such a big impression. Humans tend to be harsher while talking to hybrids, maybe because they couldn’t see themselves in their position to be kinder or because they thought hybrids were born stronger and less emotional, they wouldn’t care about those things, right? Up until they met themselves, the only kind one was you, even when it was so brief they barely met your eyes.

“You weren’t even scared”, you barely heard Yeosang’s voice, but the other boys heard him as clear as the day.

He seemed like he was in another world, since he wasn’t looking to anyone in particular. Yeosang jumped out his skin when Seonghwa nudged him on his ribcage. The red colored his cheeks, ears, and nape as Wooyoung did a poor job at hiding his laughter.

You did laugh yourself, but you cleared your throat. “Who wasn’t even scared?

“Hmm, you, you didn’t seem scared when we came by”, Yeosang said as he searched for something to look at to calm himself down, but you did deserve the respect of being look at while being spoken to, so he ignored his instincts and all the bullshit he learned to look at you.

“Why would I be scared of you?”, you said as you watched all of them.

That didn’t even cross your brain, you only realized now. You were too busy wondering why someone would break the ultimate rule of society ‘do no talk to someone wearing headphones’, because that would be much more rare than a hybrid attack out of nowhere. Okay, that wasn’t a real statistic, but it could be.

Yeosang thought you were talking about him for a moment, but then he noticed it wasn’t the case. It was clear no one would ever be scared of Yeosang or Seonghwa, they were at the bottom of the hierarchy, even Wooyoung wouldn’t scare many hybrids, much less many humans. The other 5 were a different matter. By their tails only, one would know they were predators hybrids. Jongho could be underestimated, but smart eyes could tell he was a bear hybrid and not to be messed with.

They were surprised by your genuine question, including Hongjoong, but he felt like he shouldn’t be. You seemed to be just like the kid he met.

“Most people would, but you don’t seem like you are capable of being scared of hybrids, do you?”, Hongjoong said as he observed your body language.

His words carried more meaning than he let it show to the others, but you got it, of course, you did. You also remembered.

“Guess my mom was right when she said I’m not like everyone else then”.

“Fuck, I missed you”, those were the first words San said to you and it caught everyone off guard.

It sounded so genuine and raw, San himself didn’t know what to do now that he said it. Until now, he was observing, checking in with all of the others body languages and emotions, Wooyoung’s more than the others only because he was right beside him. But his own emotions were boiling inside of him, he had to say something to you, but he couldn’t find the right words, well, until now.

Wooyoung was only surprised by the sudden emotion coming from San, but he couldn’t say he was surprised he felt that way in the first place. You must not know to this day what truly happened to them when they met you, but your kindness was the only thing they had to hold themselves onto and if it was up to him, you would never know.

“I’m- I-“, Choi San was blushing like a school girl and that was enough for all chaos break loose.

The other students couldn’t help, but get curious to know what the hell was so funny as laughter dominated the whole cafeteria and to know who were those hybrids that no one saw before.

Tagslist: @asherthehimbo @katsukis1wife @a1i33a @idfkeddieishot @pyeonghongrie-main @h3arteyes4mingi

[seospicybin]

ONE CLICK.

Han x reader. (s)

Synopsis: Han has a habit of stalking you online and wishes to get to know you in real life. He finally gets his wish after one night of accidentally sliding into your DM. (8,6k words)

Author's note: a big thank you to my baby @hyunee1 for helping me with this fic. Love you much much 😘

Click.

Click.

Click.

That's how Han usually ends his tough day of busy schedules, sitting on his bed with the bluish glow of his phone in his dark bedroom, clicking on everything about you.

His eyes move up and down trying to catch the speed of his finger scrolling the page of your Instagram, there's a new series of pictures you posted this afternoon. He guesses he missed the notification, and he automatically double-taps it without thinking, as he always does.

He swipes to see all the pictures of you having a day out in sunny weather, a picture of your lipstick mark on your coffee mug, your hand petting a puppy, of you looking out at the mountain view in distance, another two of your self-portraits of that cute smile he likes so much and on the last slide is a picture of a colorful kite against the clear blue sky.

The caption says ''you’re a kite that toys with my heartstrings."

Han recognizes the lyrics to a song, he goes to the comment box then types the continuation of the lyrics, "but it won’t fly cause I’m too fickle, what do I do?"

He hits send and smiles in satisfaction, knowing that you wouldn't recognize him since he's using a secondary account with a made-up name, he can't be too careful in this kind of thing.

He swipes the pictures to the second slide of your selfie, where he can see the crinkles in your eyes that get him wondering if you're just as beautiful in real life or more, he bets it's the latter.

He unconsciously double-taps the Instagram post again, it's already in his default he believes.

He moves on to the other social media you have, Twitter, to see if you share any TMI for today just like you always do. A piece of information that seems to be useless to everyone else is a piece of treasure for him, it’s a step closer to getting to know you better.

"I'm having plums after a long time, they're so sweet and I think it's my new favorite fruit."

You posted the tweet along with a picture of ripe-looking plums in a bowl and another one of you holding the fruit close to your cheek, he can see the resemblance in the way the color of the fruit matches the blush of your cheeks.

Gah! He wishes he can touch those cheeks and feel how soft they are, he's going a little crazy thinking if he could kiss them. He laughs for making himself flustered out of the blue, not to add alone in his bedroom.

He hits the like button and switches to your fan account to check new updates about you, he trusts the information he get from your fans rather than the ones he can easily access on the internet because they're mostly clickbait or fake news, he knows that better than anyone.

There are new photos of you attending a fashion event, you in that white dress with a high slit on the side, revealing just enough skin but at the same time, making him want more.

He zooms in on each picture and touches the phone screen like he could feel you physically by doing it, something is undeniably attractive about you that keeps pulling him in.

Sometimes he wonders if you're real and if you are, is it possible for him to reach you? Meeting you? Talk to you? See your cute smile with his own eyes?

To convince him that you're real, he exits Twitter to access another app.

Truthfully, he specifically made an account for stalking you on whatever social platform you have on the internet, it's the only time he's free to be his honest self, which is a fool for you.

He opens YouTube and one of your vlogs is making an appearance on his homepage, he goes to your channel to see if he missed any new uploads from you. The last one you uploaded is a week ago, he scrolls down to watch the one he always comes back to, the one that kickstarts this obsession of you.

There was nothing special about it, he stumbled on your vlog one day and he didn't know why but he watched it to the end, it somehow fascinated him, how you slowly lured him to keep on watching 

There's just something about you, it's your bubbly personality or how you keep your attitude real and let everyone knows it's just how you usually act in real life.

Han met so many people in the industry he works in, he knows when someone is true or fake, and he can tell it now just from a glance.

But you, you're your authentic self, there's no pretense. He doesn't care if people say it's a biased view but he stands his ground.

He casts the video to his TV and hits the play button, the vlog starts with the opening sound that he recognizes too well, your laugh.

You went for a weekend away to a beach and the opening scene is of you waking up in the middle of the night, talking about how you like hearing the sound of the waves while clutching the blanket close to your chest.

It makes him daydream about you a lot, what it's like if he gets to lay next to you and cuddle you under the cover. It’s a wishful thinking but he can't help himself.

The scene changes to the view of the beach and you running around in the sand, there's one scene that he can vividly play in the back of his head without watching it. You look out at the sea from the pier, the wind blowing your way and the short skirt you're wearing swaying away with the wind.

He has a thing with you in short skirts or maybe this thing started from seeing you wearing this specific piece of clothing a lot in your pictures.

He keeps it to himself, he only allows himself to daydream only good things about you and doesn't want to ruin it with his lewd thoughts 

Next thing he knows, he waves back at you as you waved your hand at the end of the video before it cuts to a black screen. Fourteen minutes of video is not enough.

Frankly, admiring you virtually like this will never be enough, he wants to go to you and meets you in real life.

But a man like him can only dream, right?

-

He wakes up with a smile to a new notification of your new Instagram story.

You're having coffee with a few different kinds of pastries for breakfast.

"I love sweets so much, what should I do?" You wrote on the post.

He types a reply in the message box, 

"Then let me buy as much sweet as you want!" He writes then presses send without the slightest of hesitancy. He had done it a few times, responding to your Instagram stories with messages like that or just a simple 'goodnight' or 'you've worked hard today' to show his admiration to you.

Han never knew that someone he knew through social media would affect him this much, just seeing your pictures is enough to take his mind off things, and watching your video is how he unwinds after a tiring day.

It comes to the point that he misses you and when he does, he'll click on you.

On good or bad days, sober or drunk, he always finds time to click on everything about you.

In fact, he's drunk of out his mind when got home tonight. He crashes onto the bed without taking his shoes off first, fishing his phone out of his jeans pocket, and clicks on you again.

There's a new Instagram post from you, three pictures of you having a night out at an event and it's just like you know how much he likes seeing you in it, you're dressed in a leather mini skirt and paired it with a flimsy white top that people can see through the fabric, exposing the lacey corset you're wearing under.

He keeps hitting the like button as he's staring at your pictures.

"Are you wearing that skirt for me, baby?" He speaks to his phone screen.

He brings his phone close to his face to take a closer look instead of zooming in on your pictures, "you drive me crazy, you know that?"

He puts his phone on his chest and lays there with his eyes closed, intoxicated.

"Fuck..." he sighs at the dark of his room, forgot to turn the lights on the way to his bed.

"I can't take this anymore!"

He lifts his phone and clicks on your Instagram profile, he opens the direct messages he sent to you which come to no surprise to him are left unread.

He snorts as he scrolls up and down all the messages he sent to you, he sounded like a love fool and he admits he is.

"I'll let you know, baby, I'll let you know..." he says as he starts typing new messages, pouring out all of his thoughts and letting them unfiltered.

All it takes is just one click, one click and you'll know.

-

Han has been chugging water nonstop the whole morning to wash the alcohol in his system.

He has a schedule today, a performance at an award show and he's sober enough to do his job, he's just feeling a little queasy, that's it.

It's not easy though, he feels like dying after finishing rehearsal and he swears to never drink again, maybe he'll eventually do but maybe not try not to drink alcohol the night before a performance.

The other members start chattering when they bump into someone after getting off the stage from rehearsal, he wonders who it is that makes them all collectively swoon.

He feels like shrinking when he sees that it's you or he wishes he could shrink into a microscopic size when he realized that he's not well presented, his hair is sweaty and his eyes are bleary, the hangover drawn on his face.

And you, you're looking nice even in the casual attire of blue jeans and a black shirt with your hair down.

This is not how he pictured meeting you for the first time would be like. Heck! He didn't even dare to dream of meeting you in real life.

He decides to hide behind his members, out of your sight and out of existence. He hears your voice as you give encouragement for today's stage and excuse yourself to get to your rehearsal.

"Good luck for today!" You say for the last time and someone takes you away.

Back to the waiting room, he goes to his phone and opens your fan account, he misses the update about you going to attend the same show with him tonight.

You also post a new Instagram story, 'rehearsing for tonight' you wrote on it along with a smiling emoticon.

It's like he is programmed to respond to anything you post, he types an encouragement for you, 'you'll do well tonight!'

He closes the app but for a second, he notices something on the messages he sent you. He reopens the app and goes through the DM between you and him, his breath caught in his throat when he sees the long messages he sent to you last night.

His eyes skim over some parts but he can tell how inappropriate they sound, he must have lost it last night to ever let you know his unfiltered thoughts about you.

And that's not the worst of it all, he scrolls down to the last message he sent, and below it, there's a little sign that says 'seen'.

It's like his soul has just left his body at that very second, his phone drops onto his lap and he leans back on the sofa, empty eyes looking at the ceiling, his mind blanks, and his mouth got dry.

How are all of these happening in a span of a few hours? Is it real? Is he in a dream? He can't tell which is which anymore.

All he thinks about is the messages he sent you and the fact that you know.

Now you know.

-

Han succeeds in not meeting you again during the show but when he learns that they have to attend the after-party, he dreads his life again.

It's exclusive just for the guests of the show and that means he'll be in a smaller place, in one room with you and the possibility of meeting you is bigger.

He keeps himself on alert for any sight of you, it's funny remembering how he wanted to meet you but now he wanted the opposite.

He shouldn't be afraid because he interacts with you online in incognito. You don't know that it's him, you probably think that it's just a stupid teenager who's obsessing over you at home and not him.

He keeps reminding himself that but he just can't calm himself down, his foot bouncing the whole night out of nerves.

He secludes himself in a quiet corner of the hotel ballroom and gulps down every glass of champagne that the server passing around on a tray.

He's buzzed enough to dull his mind and calm his nerves, he doesn't know if it's better to get drunk again.

"You need one more?"

He almost jumps in shock and he's aware of how rude he is for reacting like that to you, you come out of nowhere and offer him a drink.

"I'm sorry, I-I..." his mouth got dry again and he stammers his words.

You softly laugh, "I'm sorry if I disturb you," you say.

He hurriedly takes the glass of champagne you offer him before you think that you did intrude on his space, you didn't but he did been trying to avoid you.

He grips the champagne flute so hard that he swears he can hear the glass starts to crack or it's just his imagination and he's right, he knows he's right that you're much prettier in person.

Your eyes crinkle even in the dim of lights and you smell so nice, like a slice of cake or of that dessert you like so much, creamy and nice and... sweet.

You take a small sip of your champagne, "I've been wanting to talk to you the whole night," you begin.

The fear starts to creep in again and he can feel sweat forming on his back. He keeps swallowing air as if trying to keep the truth from coming out.

"It's just now that I get to talk to you," you continue with a smile.

That sweet smile dazzles him and he blinks his eyes a few times to imprint that in his mind.

"I wanted to—"

Oh no? Do you know that it's him? Should he come clean about it before you lay out the fact?

His foot bounced faster, his mouth got drier and the champagne flute is about to shatter in his grip, the beads of cold sweat rolling down his back and...

"I'm sorry I sent you those messages!" He blurts out with his eyes closed, too embarrassed about the reality he has to live in right now.

"Huh?"

"I was drunk... I-I wasn't thinking straight, I was... I didn't know why I send those messages, I only realized it this afternoon after meeting you during rehearsal," he starts blabbering, knowing well his excuses won't cut for an apology but it's just the truth.

He heavily sighs and tries again, "I deeply, deeply apologize to you!" His face drops, looking down at his feet and feeling so frustrated over himself.

You got quiet for a while then clear your throat, "but I was about to say that I like all of the songs you wrote..." your words trail off as the knowledge registered to you.

He looks up at you with eyes widening in pure shock, oh no, he just made a fool of himself. Why did he crack so easily like that? 

He knew that you wouldn't know but now you know because he blurted the truth like that.

"W-what?" He stutters in disbelief while his hand groping around to find something he can hold on to.

You probably think that he's a weirdo or a pervert or a combination of both. You must be disgusted by him, right? You must be...

Then you crack a laugh then say, "oh, so it's you?"

His brain is malfunctioning, he's losing control of his own body and all he can do is stare at you, hoping that he's invisible to you now.

"You're the one who sent me those messages," you say but in an intrigued kind of way rather than a disgusted one.

You put your champagne glass and place your hand on your chest, cracking another laugh at him, "you're one of my followers?" You ask in disbelief.

He is unable to speak yet but he manages to order his body to nod.

"Oh wow, this is so... unexpected!" You exclaim with a grin.

Wait, this reaction is unexpected to him as well. Aren't you supposed to be getting as far away from him as possible and wish to never see him again?

You take your champagne again and finish it in one long sip then gasp. There's a silence going on for a few seconds and you take a step closer to him while holding the empty wine glass in your hand, "so..."

His breath hitched and he holds his breath, afraid that the scent of your sweet perfume will enchant him.

"It was you who sent those messages?" You ask for confirmation.

Han nods repeatedly while keep holding his breath as if he's underwater.

You look away and sheepishly smile, your teeth faintly biting your lower lip.

He's turning blue from holding his breath and when you put the empty glass away is when he finally lets himself breathe. He should start speaking now before things get worse, "I apologize for—"

"Will you really do all that to me?" You cut him off with a provoking question.

He blinks his eyes, nonplussed. He has the answer but he's not sure you will accept it well.

"Buy you as much sweet as you want?" He wildly guesses to save him from making another mistake.

You laugh again from hearing his response, "you're really cute," you say to him.

One compliment is enough to get him flustered and that laugh of yours charms him well, it works to relax him a little.

"Do you have your phone with you?" You ask.

Just like you cast a spell at him, he quickly obeys you, groping his body for his phone, and takes it out from the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

You take it from him and add your phone number to his contacts, then hand it back to him after.

"You have my number now," you inform him.

"Okay," he shortly replies because he doesn't know how to answer that. His brain is still malfunctioning at the moment.

You laugh again, it's just how clueless he is at the whole situation that makes him awkwardly cute like a lost little puppy.

Your manager finds you at the right time, "we have to leave," she says to you.

"Alright," you answer and gather your purse from the table.

You stay for a while after your manager leaves and come up to him, "before we do anything else I hope you know what to do with my number," you say.

You leave him there, star-struck and in awe.

He needs time to process what just happened to him in the last 24 hours but he knows what to do with your number.

-

"A+ for the eagerness!"

You say the moment you pick up the phone call from him.

Han doesn't want to play cool and make you wait, that's not what he wants. You know how much of a fool he is for you so what the use in playing hard-to-get? Plus, he's in no position to do that.

That's why he calls you as soon as he gets some privacy in his home.

He's all relaxed now that your reaction is far from what he pictured in his head, knowing that you're not grossed out by his filthy thoughts making him feel at ease.

He thinks of something cool to say but his head is empty except for the heavenly smell of your perfume.

"Hi," he awkwardly says to the phone.

Then there's that giggle again, he's addicted to the sound of it already.

"I'll be away for three days and be back on Thursday but I'll be tired by then so Friday?"

It's not that he's not experienced in dating, he dated someone before but that was a long time ago and he didn't have time to do all that again between his busy schedules, now he's just as inexperienced as his teen self, having zero ideas with what you meant by that.

"Friday?" He asks back in confusion.

"Before you get to do what you wanted to do to me, shouldn't you take me on a date first?" You give him a clearer context.

He finally gets what you're saying, you want him to take you on a date. He tries to memorize his schedule and checks the calendar if he has anything on that day, he needs to do some work in the studio but he believes he can finish it earlier.

"Friday afternoon?" He asks again.

There are a few seconds of silence going then he hears a rustle from your end, he's imagining that you're talking to him on the phone while lying on your bed.

"Friday afternoon is fine with me," you finally reply with a low sigh.

It makes him feel like he's there with you, lying next to you on your bed. Without he intends to, he lays down on his bed with his eyes closed, and with the sound of your low breathing he's listening through the phone, it helps him paint the imagery vividly in his head.

Your eyes, your smile, your blushing cheeks, and your sweet-smelling perfume...

"I have to go now, I'm tired," You cut through the scene and shatter his imagination.

He takes a breath to knock some sense back into him that no matter how much he wants to keep talking to you, he can't keep you occupied just to fill his selfish need of hearing your voice.

"Okay."

You softly sigh into the phone, "Goodnight!"

"Sleep well, goodnight!" He says back.

Then you hang up the phone and the call-ending tune reels him back to the reality, that he's alone in his room with the lights off.

That doesn't change the fact that he has become the last person you're talking to before you go to sleep. He's not sure if he'd be in your dream but you'll be in his tonight.

-

Han finishes as soon as he can.

But he's not good at rushing things that he finished a bit longer than he intended to, he picks up some food on the way.

He doesn't want to risk being spotted by people by having a date out, he hesitated a lot when he asks you if it's okay if you're coming to his place instead.

He doesn't want to give the impression that he's forward about what he wants, but he's glad you understand his good intention.

He stares out at the rain outside as he's waiting, letting the coffee grounds sit for a few seconds after he pours hot water over and let it drip.

The sounds of the raindrops pattering against the window and the smell of coffee relaxed him, despite he has been nervous since last night, frankly though, he has been for the last few days since he spoke with you on the phone.

Then the doorbell rings and his heart skip a beat.

He gathers all of his senses, promised to not make a fool out of himself this time, then opens the door.

"Hi!" You say the second you appear in front of him.

It still feels like a dream to him, seeing you in flesh and with his own eyes, breathing the same air with you in his apartment.

"Aren't you going to let me in?"

He snaps himself out of his daze and opens the door wider, stepping aside to let you in, "come in, please!" 

You flash him a smile as you walk past him, letting yourself into his apartment and taking a look around the place. You put your purse and take your cardigan off, place them on the sofa.

"You live alone?" You ask.

"Yeah," he stands there a safe distance away from you.

"No pets?"

"I have a dog but he lives with my parents since I rarely home," he answers.

You nod and turn around to see him, "it's a nice place," you say with a smile.

He feels good about himself, he did a good job at tidying up the things around his place in one night. He hides his triumphant smile and remembers to offer you a drink.

"Coffee?" He offers.

You notice that he's been brewing coffee in the kitchen, "yes, please!"

He walks to the kitchen, "with ice or...?"

"With ice, yes!" You reply.

You're following him to the kitchen to watch him prepare an iced coffee for you.

"Drip coffee?"

He sheepishly smiles at you for noticing it, putting ice cubes into the glass before pouring in the coffee.

"And that's the same coffee I always drink," you say with a raised eyebrow.

Han doesn't mean to show off, he just wanted to make sure that he provides you with everything that you like. Your favorite coffee brand and how you like drip coffee which reminds him that he bought that sweet you like so much.

He takes it out of the fridge and takes out the box of macaroons, he bought all the flavors you like and serves it with the iced coffee.

You look at it then look at him and shot him an impressed smile.

"Of course you know," you say with a smile as you take a sip of your coffee with a straw.

Flustered, Han scratches the back of his head and looks down, "the store happened to be on my way home so..." he vaguely explains.

"As far as I remember, they don't have any branch near here nor your agency," you casually say.

Uh oh! He just got caught lying to your face and doesn't know how to save himself from it.

"That's so sweet of you!" You praise him out of the blue, again giving him the opposite reaction to what he expected.

He looks up at you, finally able to see your eyes to eyes and you're glowing under the fluorescent light. He sees you taking one of the macaroons.

"You should try it, it's good!" You bring the macaroon close to his mouth and tell him to take a bite.

He slowly opens his mouth and lets you feed it to him, taking a little bite of it

"It's good, right?" You say, then shove the rest of the macaroon he just bites into your mouth.

"So good," he says back.

With the permission you got from him, you continue the tour around his house, exploring the rooms one by one.

It's his bedroom you're curious about the most while Han holds his breath as you get inside, he doesn't know what makes him this nervous.

He watches as you approach his desk, you must be aware of the mess on his desk, he was working on something last night and forgot to tidy up after.

"Are you working on something?" You ask, standing next to his desk and playing with an action figure from his collection.

"Yeah, I was working on a track," he answers with his hands gripping the headrest of the chair.

"Can I have a listen?" You ask.

He likes how you sweetly ask for permission for everything like a little child.

"I understand if you can't," you add as you put down the mini figurine back on his desk.

"No, of course, you can, let me just..." he quickly sits on the chair and searches for the track he worked on until late at night on his laptop.

Once he found it, he hands you the headphone.

"It's not finished yet," he informs you before hitting the play button.

Your eyes are looking at him for the whole minute you're listening to his unfinished track, a faint smile appears once in a while, and slightly bob your head here and there.

"I like this," you say, handing him the headphones back.

"Yeah?"

"I think I have a thing for every song you wrote," you say then turning away to move on to the next room.

His room is spacious but why it suddenly feels so small to him, not in the most suffocating way but he feels drawn to get close to you.

He hears your gasp as you step into his closet, he follows you there and sees you standing in the middle of the room.

You look over your shoulder and say, "And here I thought I have too many shoes!"

Han sheepishly smiles and stands by the doorway, watching you look at his shoe collection, then look at his clothes hanging on the other side of the wall.

You pull out one of his jackets and ask, "may I try?" 

And how can he refuse when you ask sweetly like that?

"Sure!"

You take the jacket from the hanger and put it on, walking to the full-length mirror to see how it looks on you.

"What do you think?" You ask for his opinion while looking at his reflection in the mirror.

To be honest, you look good in everything but seeing you in his clothes makes you look more appealing, more alluring he wants you more and more and more.

He clears his throat and pushes the thought away, "you look cool!"

There goes your giggle, his new favorite sound and you put the jacket back on its hanger, putting it back where it belongs.

"Then what about the skirt I wear?" You ask.

His eyes instantly shift to the skirt you're wearing, it's plaid in the colors red and black. It's short and tight, he likes how it accentuates your curve and how it looks on you.

You're coming toward him in slow steps and stop right in front of him, "didn't you say you like seeing me in a short skirt?"

He wonders if you can hear his heart drumming in his chest because he can hear it loud in his ears, deafening.

You're not making a contact with him but his body's temperature is already rising from the proximity.

And your eyes are on him with a subtle sly smile on your face.

You turn around with your back facing him and take his hands, placing them on each side of your hip.

Han looks straight ahead, at both of your reflections in the mirror, and damn, he looks like he belongs there, right next to you.

You catch his eyes through the reflection before sliding his hands down to let him touch the hem of your skirt.

"I'm wearing this for you," you say, still looking at him through the mirror.

Everything else is just so quiet at that moment that he thought you were whispering.

His eyes lower to where his hands touch your skirt and without warning, you pull him closer until his chest meets your back.

Looking over your shoulder with your face merely inches away from his, "do you like it?" You ask.

He swallows hard and tries to think of something to say even though the answer is obvious.

Your head leans back on his shoulder, leaving only an inch between your lips and his.

"I'm wearing this so you can do what you wanted to do to me," you say with your sweet breath brushing his cheek as you speak.

He recalls the messages he sent to you on that one drunken night when he spilled all of his unfiltered thoughts of you.

How do you know I like seeing you in tight, little skirts?

I can't think straight whenever I see you in them. You want me to get in trouble, do you?

His eyes flick back to the reflection of you together and his hands are on you, your hand guiding his going under that he can feel the warm flesh of your thigh.

I take it that whenever you're wearing that tiny skirt you want me to cause a trouble.

And he's holding on to every last shred of sense left in him to not cause trouble. But you make his hand pull the hem of your skirt higher, exposing your thigh and the smooth skin that glows even in the dim light.

Do you want to know what trouble I'll cause?

Just one touch on your silky skin and it's enough to make him give in, he splays his hand on your thigh with your hand on top of his.

I'll touch you there, baby. Lift the hem of your skirt bit by bit, then I'll touch your thighs and that soft skin of yours.

Your skin is warm under his touch and it's getting hot as his hand inches closer to that heavenly thing between your legs.

But he stops once his fingers meet the lacey fabric of your underwear, he might be drunk that night but he remembers everything he wrote that night in the back of his head like the lyrics of his favorite song.

And you think I'll touch you there with my hands? No, baby. My hands may be impatient but my mouth is greedy.

His greedy mouth is getting impatient as well, those red-painted lips tantalize him and so he kisses you. It's even better that you welcomed his kiss with such eagerness, a burst of sweet and hot like a birthday cake with so many candles, he wants to blow on it and eat it too.

His hands are moving on their own, tracing the sides of your body and squeezing your flesh, every touch is a reminder that you're real, this is real.

For a second, he glances at the mirror to assure him that he's not seeing things, he's kissing you with his hands all over you.

You turn around to face him and put your hands around his neck, your red lipstick is fading from his hungry kisses but it doesn't make you less attractive to him.

He lowers his mouth on you again and holds you close, slowly lifting you off the floor to carry you back to his bedroom.

Once he puts you back down, you're walking backward then lying down on the bed.

Han is standing there, watching you waiting for him to let him do what he has been fantasizing about you and your body.

I'll touch you there with my mouth. I'll bury my head between your legs and smell you forever, get myself drunk in your scent.

He kneels on the floor so close to the edge of the bed and parts your legs open, he can see the flimsy fabric of your underwear that covers so little.

How can you wear something so provocative under your skirt?

His eyes are on you as he places a soft kiss on your inner thigh, he begins making a trail of kisses from there until his mouth lands where he wanted the most, he believes that's where you wanted him the most as he feels the fabric is damp from your wetness.

He rolls down the hem of your skirt until it hunches up around your waist so you can see how he doesn't hesitate to kiss your clothed core then buries his nose to inhale your scent.

I wonder what you smell like? I bet your smell will get me drooling like a kid at a candy shop. All I know is I'll crave a lick, a bite, I won't stop until I get enough taste.

This craving is growing bigger the longer he stalls, he pulls your underwear down and takes a sniff at it before tossing it aside. There's nothing like drinking water right from the fountain and he's getting thirsty with every passing second.

You make one sweet cake, baby and I'll eat you out like it's my birthday. I'll lick the icing off, gobble on you until I get to that sweet, sweet filling, and lick my fingers clean when I'm done.

And it feels like his birthday, he's not the type to celebrate it every year but he certainly like how it's all about him on that particular day and he wants to make you remember how he enjoys eating you out, from the way you tug at his hair he can tell that you enjoy it too.

"Oh— oh, fuck!" You mutter under your breath with your other hand fisting the bedsheet.

The way you arch your back against his mouth tells him you want more of it, you want him to leave nothing but how his mouth feels on you.

Oh, those soft whimpers you let out as you cum with his tongue on your clit, it feels like the confetti pops and rains down on him.

Your essence floods his mouth and he smears it all over your cunt with his fingers, so he can lick it all over with his tongue.

You prop your elbow against the mattress, look at him and ask, "How'd it taste?" 

He shoves his fingers coated with your juice in response.

I always have the dessert first and that's how I like it, sweet and creamy, full of a burst of flavors.

He crawls over your body to come to you, kissing you down and planting the natural scent of your body all over his bed, pieces of clothing are off from each other's bodies.

You take a second to look at his body, the muscles on his chest, his broad shoulders, and his impeccable small waist, it's nothing like you've seen before but somehow you like it, he has his own charms.

He looks down on you as you place soft yet searing kisses on his neck and chest, closing his eyes to take it all in, how your lips feel on his skin.

"Fuck, I'm going crazy," he says, holding your face in his hands.

"But we're only halfway there," you say with a sly smile, then turn over on the bed, on all fours with your ass jutting up at him.

That skirt is what starts all this, that skirt is the cause of all this trouble, therefore it should stay on you. It will stay on you as I take you from behind, holding on to your skirt as I thrust into you.

You're naked except for the skirt hunches up around your waist, he takes a moment to run his hand down your spine and the beautiful arc of your back then when his hand meets your skirt, he takes a fistful of it in his hand.

You're moaning just from him teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock and you're so little, he doubts that you can take him well.

His doubt evaporated the second he enters you, slowly and you take it well. You continuously moan until his whole length buries deep inside your tight, velvety walls.

Han has been keeping his moans to himself by pressing his lips together with his jaws all clenched.

You want it slow, you say? No baby, why don't you try to keep up with me? You can blame that itty bitty skirt you wear later.

Your loud moans are enough to beat the sound of the heavy rain outside, the skin-slapping sounds come second, and then there are his grunts that escape through his gritted teeth.

Your head drops onto the pillow with your hands crumpling the sheet, trying to take his hard pounding as he chases his high.

He keeps adding speed as he goes while you keep tightening around his cock, giving him a hard time to last longer than he intended to.

I won't stop, I won't stop until you learn your lesson. I want you to remember that every time you put on that skirt, you'll think of the trouble I'll cause.

His eyes shift from looking at how he's fucking you through the reflection in the mirror to his cock going in and out of you, both giving him the same amount of pleasure.

But it's you, it's you who allowed him to indulge himself in you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he repeatedly says under his breath every time he almost slips away.

But it's you, you just feel too good and your moans are luring him to give himself in.

His eyes screws shut as he puts all of his into his thrusts and cumming, he realizes that he's going in raw into you a few seconds too late and hurriedly pulls out.

His cum dripping down and he got some drops on you too but he is high in pleasure to notice. His body goes limp but he feels the softness of your body when he collapses on top of you.

Fuck, how I wish I can do all that to you, my sweet pie! I'll always be in trouble just from thinking of you nonetheless.

But that little skirt, that little skirt will be the end of me.

-

The first thing he sees when he wakes up is you and he keeps on blinking his eyes, thinking he's still sleeping.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" You ask with a hand propping your head, looking down at him.

"Am I dreaming?" He asks with confused, squinted eyes.

You softly giggle and gently poke his cheek with your finger, "is that enough to convince you?"

You keep poking his cheek with your index finger, "your cheeks are incredibly soft," you say.

He should be the one curious about you then it hits him that he's under the duvet with you, naked. As if that's enough to convince him that he's not dreaming it, he grabs your hand and kisses it.

Then the reality hits him, he must have dozed off after the sex and cringed at himself, which surely will leave a bad impression on you.

"How long I've been sleeping?" He asks.

"Not long," you reply, turning on the bed to lay on your stomach with the upper half of your body overlapping his.

Now it feels real, having your body on him and your skin on his skin. He puts his hand on the side of your face and brushes your hair to the side, holding it there.

"Are you sure I'm not dreaming right now?" he innocently asks.

You lean in and give him a long peck on the lips, "how about now?" You ask once you break the kiss.

He shakes his head, "I'm not sure," he answers with a faint smile on his face.

"Just say you want me to kiss you again," you say with an eye-roll and place a kiss on his lips, a little longer than the previous one.

"Still think you're dreaming?" You ask again while biting your lower lip.

He doesn't answer but brings his face close to kiss you. With his hands wrapped around you, he rolls on the bed and has you underneath him, kissing you hard and deep.

He takes a break to catch his breath and looks down at you, with your eyes closed and lips wet from the kisses. You're so beautiful that it still doesn't feel real to him.

"I forgot to tell you that I can't stay the night over," you tell him, resting your hand flat on his magnificent chest muscle.

He frowns at the information but he understands, he lives the same way too where his work dictates his life, not the other way around.

"When do you have to leave?" He asks.

You glance at the clock on his bedside table, "in like two hours," you answer while dragging your hand lower to his abdomen.

"Okay," he meekly says because he can't do anything about it.

You keep dragging your hand lower and lower and he starts to notice where it leads.

He shoots you questioning glances and you respond with a smirk, then you bring your mouth close to his ear to whisper, "but I think we have enough time to..."

He closes his eyes as he feels your hand inch closer to his member, getting hard from you implying that you want to go again before you leave.

But your hand takes a turn back to his chest and you lay your head back on the pillow, "order some food because I'm starving," you say, followed by a series of a giggle from succeeding at playing him.

Han scoffs, he can't believe he almost fall for it but he concedes, no matter what he should treat his guest well.

He collapses on his side of the bed and asks, "what do you want for dinner?"

You shift to lay on your side, "Uhm..." you hum as you think with your hand under your chin.

It feels like he's looking at a pictorial in a magazine, therefore he doesn't mind you taking a long time to pick your dinner.

"On a second thought..." you say, snapping him out of his daze.

You get up from the bed and the duvet slides down your body, exposing your body to him like he needed the reminder of how gorgeous you look in your birthday suit.

"We can order the food later," you say and slip your hand under the duvet, closing into his cock that is getting hard from the anticipation.

He groans as your hand finally makes contact with his semi-hard cock with your eyes bore into him as you speak.

"I'd like to have my dessert first," you add with a sly smile.

-

Click.

Click.

Click.

That's still what he does every night, clicking on everything about you. Scrolling down your Instagram page and double taps on the beautiful pictures you took of yourself, leaving a comment on it with emoticons that consist mostly of hearts.

It's when he lays on his bed like this that the image of you fucking him that day flashed through his mind and he remembers everything so vividly.

Your mouth was slightly parted open with soft moans spilling out of it, your skin glows under the dim light, your breasts bouncing with every movement you made, and your ample flesh in his hands. To add to his suffering, he remembers how good to be inside you, and when you cum all over him, it's something that he does not even dare to fantasize about.

Fuck, now that he thinks about it, his cock is twitching in his pants.

He checks his phone and the last text he sent you looks so lonely without your reply.

On the day of the date, he watched you get dressed from the doorway of his bedroom, you put your skirt back on and turned around to look at him.

"I think you owe me a skirt," you said, showing him the mess he made on the fabric and he believed it's his cum dropping on your skirt when he hastily pulled out of you.

That's what was inside the package, a skirt that he owes you and he carefully picked it with the help of his stylist, frankly, he also chose one that he would love to see on you.

He's been waiting for your reply, wanting to know whether you like it or not. Alas, you've been keeping him on his toes all day.

To compensate for the absence of your presence in his day, he goes to your YouTube page to watch his favorite video of you, it feels a whole lot different watching it after he met you in real life. It enhances everything since he knows how you look like, how you smell, how you taste, and how you feel like.

He can't take it anymore, he craves you so badly like he's running low on sugar.

If you're not going to reply then he'll just send you another text, screw being a cool guy! He'll let you know how much he wants to see you.

Like you're listening to the rant in his head, the three dots appear on the chat box which means that you're typing a message for him.

He bites his lower lip with his fingers tapping the back of his phone nervously.

"I got the package!" You write.

His fingers automatically respond to your text and compose a reply even before his brain can think of an answer.

"Yeah?"

"The skirt. I love it!" You wrote along with three hearts emoticons.

He triumphantly smiles in the dark of his room, deep down, he knows that you'll like his pick.

"I'm glad you like it," he replies and presses send.

Before he forgets to ask it, he composes a new text.

"Have you tried it on?"

"Yes."

"And it fits?"

"Want to see?" You ask back instead of confirming whether it fits or not.

But you're offering him a visual aid and he absolutely can't say no to this. Heck, he would love just to see your shadow.

"With pleasure," he replies and bites his lower lip so hard that it turns white 

You send him a picture and he quickly opens it, it's the lower half of your body with the skirt on and it amazes him that it fits you so perfectly, he did make a good choice.

Then you send another picture and it comes unexpectedly, he opens it to see you wearing nothing but the skirt.

It's clear that you're taking the picture yourself since you took it through the reflection in the mirror but you know how to tease him, how to get him going, and to make him crave you.

It takes him a minute to admire the picture you send him and another minute to compose a reply.

"Now that you do that, you know what will happen, right?"

Instead of answering him, you send him a video and he couldn't be faster to open it.

The video only lasts for a few seconds, it's you lifting the hem of the skirt to show him the white underwear you're wearing under. The fabric is so flimsy he can see right through and see the thing he craves the most.

"Come and cause trouble!" You send a text after the video.

It's like he's back on that night when he was drunk and being enticed by your tight, little skirt but he would never regret clicking send on those messages.

He's on his senses now, trying to make a good choice, he licks his lips before typing a reply to you.

"Aren't you the troublemaker?"

"You will be the end of me!" He adds, then paces around his room to get dressed. He's aware of how much of a fool he is for you, just pictures of you in a skirt and you got him wrapped in your little finger. Did he mind though? Not at all.

He stops by the threshold to send another text for you, "I'm coming." 

-

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[kookieswan]

Red Light - Hole in the Wall

Nightmare!Hoseok x Psychologist!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Genre: Horror AU, Monster AU, Psychological horror, some Angst as always, some small fluff.

Warnings: MC and JK drinking, mentions of harassment and injury/death- pretty tame otherwise. It should be noted that this story will contain themes of horror/psychological horror and also explore obsessive behaviors and codependency. Many characters are morally gray. Please be warned!

Summary: You had always hoped you’d make friends with your coworkers, and you technically have. You just never thought it would be over bloodshed and secrets.

Notes: Taking it back just a little bit to the night before Star Crossed Lovers. I hope you all enjoy, sorry for the very long wait 😅

This Part 35 of the Red Light series. Find the Masterlist here ♥️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I still don’t know how you convinced me to meet you here of all places. I can’t et say it’s my scene.” A small hole in the wall bar in the downtown area, there’s a surprising amount of people around, the drunken patrons moving around you clumsily. Eyeing Jungkook as you sit down, you watch him sip on his Jack and coke as he shrugs. He pushes another toward you as a gift.

“I knew we wouldn’t run into anyone else from work here since it’s mostly old shitbags we deal with; it seemed like the best bet. Plus, everyone’s already fuckin wasted so they won’t listen to a word we say.” Glancing around, it’s clear that everyone’s been drinking for a while. People are laughing and yelling up at the bar, others on the dance floor making a fool of themselves. It makes you smile.

“… Fair. So, I imagine there’s some background information you want to tell me that speaking of at work is a no-no. Yoongi’s outburst today wasn’t completely surprising but given how he’s been lately it did seem out of the blue.” Yoongi’s been on his best behavior for the most part, so the outburst is a little concerning. You know that there’s definitely a solid reason, Freeman doing something as small as opening his mouth gave you a decent chunk of intell.

Jungkook sits his cup down, staring into the drink for a minute. He taps the glass and then glanced around, long hair brushing his shoulders. It’s off to see him dressed so casually, but he’s probably thinking the same about you in jeans and a sweater.

“It definitely wasn’t fucking unwarranted. Imagine the worst fucking person you know, multiply it by a billion, then add two. That’s Freeman in a nutshell. He’s the dirt underneath your feet that you’ve dragged around for much too long.” You know a few people like that, but it pains you to know there’s a new addition into the group of slime balls. You sip on your Jack and coke, eyes glancing out over the bar. The light twinkle prettily overhead, properly distracting everyone from you. Good.

“I feel like a gossip for asking, but what did he do? I can only begin to imagine with how the other doctors act on our floor.” Jungkook scoffs, a look of pure disgust taking over his face. It’s obvious that the man in front of you dislikes many of the doctors just as you do, but his hate for Freeman seems to run deep.

“I can only give you my point of view for now… But, he clearly didn’t like Yoongi from the start. Was always fucking nasty to him, tossed insults, said disgusting shit disguised as a fucked up compliment. You met him, you know. I had to keep my cool, letting people in on what we have isn’t the best idea.” What they have.. You raise an eyebrow, and Jungkook raises back. Making a motion to zip your lips, you don’t say anything else and let him continue.

“Didn’t matter what we did though; he found out, I still don’t know how, neither does Yoon. It was endless fucking tourture after that; he was like a fucking monster... I’ll let Yoongi tell you the rest about him if he wants to. Not my place. You know why they keep me around though, won’t fire me?” It’s one of your biggest questions in regard to them, although the answer is somewhat obvious in your head. You lean inward, giving the guard in front of you all your attention.

“They know I’m the only one that can calm Yoongi down. They know that, I know that, and so I’m stuck there. They’ve sent an arsenal of threats my way about what they’ll do if I try to leave. Not that I would, I won’t leave him behind.” So you had guessed right. Yoongi’s a wild card, definitely unwilling to listen to just anyone. Without Jungkook, the doctors would be at a total loss. You nod, a grim half smile taking over your face.

“I’m so sorry Jungkook, that’s horrible. I wish there was something I could do but it seems I can barely keep myself afloat anymore.” It’s true; without Hoseok you wouldn’t have made it. He keeps you by king down in the depths of that place, and the other nightmares do too to an extent.

Jungkook shakes his head, quickly downing the rest of his drink. He slams the glass into the table and stretches, leather jacket squeaking slightly as he does. Scooting himself forward, the man scrunches his nose just a bit. Kind of like a mad bunny.

“It’s fine, we just never thought he’d come back. I heard he was transferred to a different facility, and then that pig Andrews took his place. But here we are over a year later with a dead Andrews and that asshat back in power.” It makes you pause, a wave of guilt washing over you even though it’s not remotely your fault. It’s not like you knew anyway but still… If you had known about freeman, you would have kept him at bay.

“… I’m so sorry. I know it’s not directly my fault, but still…” The lights flicker over head, a small sense of melancholy taking over your mind. Drinking always makes you emotional, and but you take another sip anyway. Jungkook scoffs, tugging at the hoop earring he’s wearing.

“_____, don’t blame yourself. Andrews was fucking harassing you and I’m not even slightly surprised Hoseok slaughtered him; I would have helped go in the chance. Hell, maybe he’ll kill Freeman too, I don’t think he was fond of the guy either.” You would have helped too. It’s terrible to admit, but some of the people down there just can’t be helped. It’s funny, the Nightmares you’re supposed to be testing have more humanity than the humans.

You sit in silence for a while, gazing over the bar and breathing in slowly. It’s the first time you’ve went out with a coworker after finishing school, and it’s to talk about the hell you live through everyday. The story of your life, you suppose. Glancing up at Jungkook, you think it’s some to bring it up, because talking about it inside of the facility…

“Can I ask you something? It’s not something I would likely ask at work.” Jungkook looks up from his phone, eyes wide as he nods slowly. You clear your throat, almost nervous to ask. You’re essentially prying for information at this point and it makes you feel uncomfortable but it has to happen.

“You can ignore me, and I’ll let it go, but can Yoongi… Well, does he have any… Abilities? I’ve had my suspicions but this morning was something else. I wouldn’t ask if I don’t think it was important to know.” You try not to ramble but Jungkook stares. And stares. Barely moves as he looks at you, eyes slowly narrowing as he remains quiet. It answers your question, but still, you say nothing until Jungkook speaks again.

“What do you think?” The bluntness makes you laugh abruptly, a loud laugh that nearly carries over the noise of the bar. Jungkook huffs and smiles, rolling his eyes as you continue to giggle. Well, you suppose the cat’s out of the bag now. It’s a good thing you think, you hope.

“Touché. Sorry, I won’t dig anymore. I just want to keep them safe and need to know what to look out for. I can’t ask stuff like this at work for obvious reasons.” Jungkook looks serious again after this, his face intense as he stares into your soul. With a sigh, he sniffs and starts to play with a piece of his hair.

“You’re not stupid _____.” That’s the confirmation you really needed, it all makes sense now. The rattling, shifting, things moving in the corner of your eyes. Nightmares can have abilities, and they can be wildly different.

You nod, looking down at your manicured nails as you pick at them. You don’t usually chip them this bad this early. Kissing your teeth in a very unprofessional way, you blurt out your own thoughts.

“I think they can do a lot of impressive things, more than humans can.” Jungkook doesn’t even seem remotely surprised, lips pursed as he nods, the lights flicker overhead again. How much does he know…? The question hangs in your mind, but you know that he’s been around much longer than you have, so he’s seen more. Experienced more.

“… We’re fucked, aren’t we?” The sudden question makes you grin, nodding your head slightly as you finish off your drink. Even with all the damage control you’ve been doing, somethings bound to go wrong eventually. It’s just a matter when and where. Standing up to grab another drink from the bar, you address the guard quietly.

“More than likely Jungkook, I’m much too inquisitive. Let’s see what the coming days bring.”

[soulwrit3s]

long game

[ day 5 Of Shuriri Week ]

@shuririweek @mal-urameshi @neptoons1998

a/n: I wasn’t gonna post today but I’d drafted this up!

Shuri has never been the biggest fan of phones. They’re not very convenient, limited as well. The most use she’s found for it is Google searches and why do that when she has her own AI?

But she somehow found herself waiting for her phone to ring. She’s in her lab, all alone, it’s too late for anyone but her to be in here anyway.

Her phone finally vibrates against her metal desk and she picks it up immediately. She smiles much wider than she should at the stupid screen. They’ve been keeping in contact for the past year, ever since Riri was sent back to MIT after the war. She and Riri call once a month if they’re both lucky. And today happens to be their lucky day.

“Wassup, Shuri.” Riri smiles, she looks as beautiful as ever, Shuri thinks. Her thick hair is pulled back into a sleek bun that Shuri has yet to see her in until right now. Her face is clear with subtle eye bags beneath them that Shuri has noticed have been beginning to worsen.

She’s got her phone on the wall behind her desk and is dressed in an oversized sweater that allows the fabric to slip a little past her shoulders.

“Hey,” Shuri smiles as she watches the scientist work diligently on a worksheet of some sort. She has this gentle crease in between her brows when she’s focused, Shuri wants to tell her she thinks it’s adorable but she holds herself back.

“Sorry for not calling you last month, I’ve been real busy.” Riri apologizes quickly, looking up momentarily to make sure Shuri understands what she is saying.

“It’s fine, I was busy too.” It’s not a lie. She was very busy but she had to make sure to clear her schedule on the day they were supposed to call and her heart sank a little when she was sent a text instead.

“How are you? I know the Royal duties are a lot. But you’re doing okay, right? You would tell me if you weren’t, right?” Riri asks while

keeping her eyes on her assignment.

Truth is, having the throne is not as bad as Shuri had imagined. She barely has time to do things she’s like but she knows it’s what her mother and father would want for her, what her brother would want for her. It’s what her people need. That’s what keeps her going.

“I’m okay,” Shuri honestly says. She wishes she could spend the rest of her days watching Riri, being with her makes her feel like herself. Not like she’s a queen or just royalty but like she’s Shuri and nothing else.

“I’m glad.”

“And you? I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself on campus.”

“I went to a party last week, shit was ass. I don’t drink like that so it wasn’t really my thing. I do wish I was in Wakanda using your cool ass tech.” Riri mentions, hearing a small laugh escape Shuri’s mouth.

“Mhm, I bet. How’s the progress on your suit?”

“Good, slow but it’s moving,” Riri admits, finally putting her pencil down and giving Shuri her full attention. It almost makes the Royal nervous.

“You lookin’ a lil tired these days, you been sleeping?” Riri questions. She herself knows how much time equations and models can take to make, as a scientist they understand that they don’t get much sleep but it doesn’t stop them from being concerned for each other.

“M’fine, I just have long hours of training and building.” Shuri sighs as a soft yawn sneaks its way out of her mouth.

“Mhm, yeah. You really gotta start taking your own advice, Princess.” Riri says with some sass in her tone. Shuri doesn’t have a rebuttal instead she chuckles because she’s afraid that if she says anything it won’t come out coherent.

She isn’t sure if it’s the rasp in Riri’s voice or the title. It’s not very accurate since she’s been crowned Queen but since Riri’s known her, it’s stuck to her like glue. Just like Riri has.

She pops up in the royal’s brain involuntarily, when she sleeps, and when she eats. It’s all consuming but a part of her doesn’t mind at all and the other is trying to fight it because, at the end of the day, they’re just friends.

“Listen, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? You-“ Riri begins.

“But we just-“

“No, I can tell you need sleep. I want you to talk to me when you’re full of energy and got some comebacks ‘cause this ain’t the Shuri I know.”

“You’re irritating.”

“Whatever…g’night, Princess. Sleep tight.”

“Goodnight.”

Riri hangs up and the only thing Shuri can think about is her friend. She knows now that she’ll play the long game. And a part of her, a rather big part of her doesn’t mind at all.

[notroosterbradshaw]

The Relationship Experience - three

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

two.

Rooster was already at the bar when you and Natasha arrived later than the rest of your friends, the guys all gathered around the pool table, talking shit and making useless bets. He noticed you immediately in your willowy sundress. He cursed under his breath. “You gotta be shitting me,” he muttered to no one in particular.

The dress.

Beer paused at his lip, Rooster’s gaze never left you as you and Natasha said hi to some of his co-workers before joining your group. He raised an eyebrow in greeting, exactly as he would have before everything changed.

“Beer?” he asked so coolly, the pads on his fingers grazing your wrist. It said everything you expected, and you gave him a simple ‘no, thanks’ in reply, moving past him to Penny at the bar, who smiled the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen as she assumed your order. Thanking her politely, she nudged her head in Rooster's direction. 

“How'd the wedding go last week?”

"Good," you shrugged casually. "Was a long day - "

"Pen, can I get another beer, please?" Rooster cut in, hovering over you, his body heat radiating in his close proximity, and you were immediately overwhelmed by his cologne. Sweet Jesus, you were a mess for him, and you weren’t sure you would be able to hide it around other people if this was what you had to get used to.

"Just talking to our girl here," she told him gently, reminding him of the golden rules with a casual thumb over her shoulder and you hummed in taunting agreement. He pursed his lips shut and stood back, his booted toes tapping on the base of the barstool you’d parked at. It was quite infuriating, you realised.

“Yeah, can’t you wait your turn?” you smiled at him wide as he sighed, trying not to meet your eyes. He knew you were going out of your way to tease him, and on most occasions, he would be down (even in your friendship) but he waited a few more moments of small talk before Penny went to make the pink fluffy thing you liked that she refused to make for anyone else.

“Nice dress,” he murmured.

“This old thing?”

He squared his eyes, but there was no malice to them. “Couldn't help yourself?" he asked, resting his elbow on the sticky bar, his body curling around you while no one watched you both particularly closely.

“It’s a warm night, I believe I have dressed accordingly,” you replied cordially, trying desperately not to meet his dancing eyes. “You don’t like it?”

“Don’t recall sayin’ that.”

“No, I don’t believe you did. It was the opposite, wasn’t it?” you asked him thoughtfully. “You liked it if I recall.”

“I’d like to see it on the floor of my bedroom.”

“Well, you don’t have a bedroom I can access here so...” you responded evenly, although you were quaking. 

Chewing his lip and straightening up, he said, “You truly love the game, don’t you?”

“I kinda do, yeah. Am I any good at it?” you asked as he hummed and accepted his beer. He nodded, chuckling quietly, and wandered away to play pool with Payback.

“Suppose you are.”

“That’s what I thought too,” you said just loud enough for him to hear as he shook his head, looking back with an amused shake of his head.

Penny came back a moment or so later with your drink. "Went well?” she prodded.

With a slight shrug, you replied, “It went well enough.”

“You two had fun?” she grasped your hand in hers. There was no way that Penny hadn't figured you out in a millisecond. Women's intuition, you figured. You nodded, a little emotional that she could read you like a book. She had known you as long as you could remember, friends with your mother and the Naval connection strong. “You look lighter,” she told you. “This could be good for you - good for both of you. But don’t worry, I won’t tell your mother,” she petted your hand before winking and moving to serve another patron.

Oh, yeah. Mom.

Mom will want to know about this.

Oh, fuck. Fuck. It’s not that you didn’t love your Mom, you couldn’t have asked for anyone else to raise you better. She just… ‘wanted what was best for you’, and that sometimes meant she got a little excited about hmm… what’s the word? Prospects. Yes, your prospects.

“You good?” Natasha asked, joining you.

Forcing a bright grin, you replied, “Yes. Waiting for someone to cheers with,” you lied expertly as she laughed and raised her bottle to you.

“Cheers,” she said, glasses tapping and you both took a welcome drink. Your throat was dry and needed something to loosen you up.

Penny caught Natasha’s eyes and she motioned for a round of tequila shots for the team. Penny nodded, collecting the glasses as she called her friends and colleagues over. Sweet Bob, you smiled as he gave you a boyish grin in greeting. You felt a warm hand on your lower back, the pad of an index finger tracing the pattern on the material. “Cheers,” Natasha said as the crew around you tossed back the shots. Reaching for the lemon before you, Rooster pushed it out of reach with a single finger.

“Not for you,” he muttered.

“What?” you reached again and he skirted just a little farther out of your reach. “Roost – ” you tried as he reached for a slice and crammed it gently in your mouth before you could protest, fingertips grazing your lips.

“Yes?” he asked, taking the last dribble from his glass. Spluttering, you tossed away the skin.

“Asshole,” you muttered as he handed you a napkin to rid the lemon juice from your fingers.

“I can’t help you can’t take your liquor,” he tutted.

“I don’t like shots. I’m not 18 anymore,” you admitted as your friends dispersed. “I like to be in control.”

“Well, we can’t always have what we want,” he shrugged simply. “Can we?”

“I’ll say,” you sniped as Natasha joined you, seating herself on the stool beside you.

“Friends,” she smiled widely, leaning against the bar.

Rooster squinted as you dropped your gaze. “Phoenix,” Rooster replied, sipping his beer.

“So, what’s new with you two?” she wasn’t even trying to hide her shit-eating grin.

“Your friend here just telling me she can’t drink shots anymore,” Rooster repeated.

Natasha grinned. “Aww. And did you help her, Rooster?”

“No, don’t believe I did,” he smirked and joined Bob at the darts.

Natasha’s eyes flashed to yours. “I like that Rooster.”

“You can have him,” you replied, some condensation from your drink spilling onto your skirt and you quickly dusted it away. “Dammit.”

“You’ve made a mess of him,” she noted quietly, watching him still. “I saw it the second you walked in; he looked like some kind of slack-jawed idiot. Pardon me, I’m watching you both like a hawk because if I don’t get some proof of life between you both, I might spontaneously combust.”

You had to laugh. “What are you expecting from something we don’t know about yet?”

“I dunno. I mean, there is some tension there. For sure, sexual? Probably, but you just look uncomfortable around each other.”

“Because he’s being a dick,” you hissed.

“And you’re not provoking him?”

Pouting, you gave her a sideways glance. “Mebbe.”

“Maybe? What kind of fuckin’ answer is that?” she howled as Hangman joined you to order another round. “Bagman, Rooster seem out of sorts tonight?”

His gaze went over to his friend, and he shrugged. “Looks his usual repressed, douche-y self to me,” he replied drily and ordered another round for the team.

You bit back a laugh, the delivery was absolutely perfect. As much as he drove you (and most people he encountered) around the twist, Hangman’s wit was impeccable and often at Rooster’s cost. They lived to spar with each other, in the air and on the ground, but as seriously as it appeared, they were kind of friends and trusted each other implicitly. “There you have it,” you muttered to Natasha.

She rolled her eyes as he collected his beers. You pretended you didn’t notice her eyes trace him and ordered another round for yourself as he left you both.

“I must stop. I want to be as sober as a judge tonight.”

Natasha smiled. “Drunk sex is fun.”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “But I do not need the hangover tomorrow morning for work.”

“Oh, that,” she muttered. “I dunno how you do it. Teaching all those rugrats not to drown themselves.”

“It’s a life skill,” you replied, good-natured. “The kids aren’t that bad. It’s great to see them learn something as vital as survival in the water. You should know that.”

“Yeah, but things come out of them,” she said, face revealing repulsion. 

You laughed heartily, making Natasha grin with you.

“I get it now,” she snapped her fingers.

“What?”

“When you laugh, like really let it go, your face is just the most beautiful thing.”

Just like Rooster had said.

Rolling your eyes, you settled back against the barstool. Never great with compliments, you mumbled a ‘thanks’ and begged for your drink. “You know?” you said to her quietly. She raised an eyebrow at you and hummed in reply. “I’m really nervous to sleep with him,” you confided softly. “I know the last few nights have been amazing… just the whole – ”

“Going from friends to lovers?” she turned her face to the bar, sliding your chair to do the same. God forbid the team catch a whisper of what you were talking about. “Yeah, I know. It’s definitely weird.”

“How did you two go about it?”

She snickered a laugh. “Well, we were really drunk. And I swear, the first time was hate fucking but it was the most intense sex I’ve ever had. It won’t be the same for you two. You guys have genuine feels which are probably why it’s terrifying. But he won’t make you uncomfortable. You know he’s a good guy. He respects you.”

“I don't want to be treated like glass.”

She nodded, sipping her beer. “I know. Just use your words. He will appreciate it.”

Sighing as you received your drink, you took an eager sip before Javy lured you to the pool table just to have your ass handed to you. You weren’t sure why you put yourself through this mistreatment, did you honestly think you could beat these people?

“Next time,” he teased. “I’ll go easy.”

“There won’t be the next time,” you told him, excusing yourself for the bathroom as he laughed after you. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” you stammered, crunching squarely into Rooster’s chest as he rounded the corner. He caught you by the wrists, steadying you with a gentle smile gracing his features as he realised whom he poleaxed.

“M’sorry,” he laughed quietly. “You okay?”

“I just heading to the bathroom,” you told as he stared over your shoulder, before pursing his lips together and fastidiously dragging you around the corner out of the prying eyes.

“I’ll join you,” he nodded, backing his way into the ladies' room as stealthily as a 6’1” mountain of muscle could.

“Rooster, nooo,” you hissed as he peered in. Deciding the coast was clear, he nipped you into a stall and locked the door behind you. “You cannot be serious.”

“We’re here, aren’t we?” he murmured, easing you back into the door, his hands smoothing down your sides, you could melt happily in his arms for the first time today.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” you warned pathetically.

“Probably not,” he agreed. “But I cannot be this close to you and not touch you. I have been watching you all night and I am not in a good way,” he confided.

Breaking into a small smile, you admitted, “Me either. This is fucking torture.”

Pushing his knee between yours, you pressed your hands into his strong chest and reach to kiss him, his lips smiling against yours. He used a strong hand to pin your hands above you, returning your kiss deeply, tongue, teeth, wet and warm. It was messy and deliberate and perfect. You could say you were officially obsessed with the tickle of his moustache. He pushed closer into you, his thigh pressing between your legs, and you couldn’t refuse. You were so pent up and leaned into it, desperate for the pressure.

“It’s okay,” he breathed, his mouth devouring your pulse as you reached and pulled into his soft curls. His free hand bunched at the skirt of your dress and tilted you into him, the roughness of his jeans was incredible. “I’ll take care of you. Do what you need,” he almost begged against your skin as you couldn’t fight it anymore and rocked against his powerful thigh. “Good girl,” he rasped, his voice in stereo as his teeth sunk into your earlobe. “Don’t stop.” 

“Fuck, that feels good,” you said, in complete surrender. You couldn’t fight, couldn’t fuss, couldn’t move your arms. All that was left was to…

Give in.

“Let me take you home…” he pleaded with you. “Enough with these games.”

Eyes closed and body scorching, you nodded. “I need you,” you told him as he nodded and kissed you again. The situation was painfully uncomfortable for you both. 

“Come on, baby. I’m here. Lemme see you cu - ”

Hearing the door squeal open and your name called, you both froze, staring at the other one, wide-eyed. Natasha. “We’re heading out. You okay?”

Rooster bit back his grin and nodded at you to reply. “I’m fine.”

“Do you want me to drop you back? I can’t find Rooster out there.”

“Dunno where he is,” you said as he shuddered with laughter. You freed your wrists and smacked your hand over his mouth to shut him up before he sold you out.  

“I’ll give you a lift back. Typical Rooster ghosting away.”

“Typical,” you grinned at him as he gave you a pitiful glance. “I’ll be right out. Just gimme a minute.”

“Okay,” and she was gone again.

“The moment passed?” he nodded to your position as you nodded slowly. His hands draped down your sides and he dropped his leg, standing to his full height. “I guess I’m being ditched.”

“It will cause a lot less curiosity if she takes me home.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said honestly. “Does she… know?” he figured since he’d been named.

“She knows. That okay?” you asked, shyly.

“Of course. Makes sense why she was on my ass all day asking if I was taking a date to Harvard’s wedding next month,” he chuckled quietly, and you smiled. His heart clenched and kissed your smile off your face.

“What did you say?”

“Said I could probably call in a favour,” he said smartly as you rolled your eyes. “You sure you want me to come back?”

“So badly,” you kissed him as his hands caressed your ribs and the underside of your breasts.

“I’ll meet you at your place,” he exhaled. “Go,” he released you, swatting your ass as you made your getaway, straightening the creases on your clothes as best as you could. Scooting out, you wandered back to the bar where Natasha was laughing at a joke that seemed to only be for them with Hangman. Yeah, just as friends do.

“Back,” you announced.

“Last call?” Hangman asked.

“No, I can’t. I gotta get this one back,” Natasha said.

“I can call an Uber if you guys want to stay,” you reassured her. “Don’t worry about me.”

“No, I’m done. At my limit,” she grabbed her purse. “See ya,” she told Jake as he gave a single nod, sipping his beer with absolutely no qualms that he was the last man standing. It was so cool and calculated, it was no surprise to you no one had a clue what was happening between them.

Following Natasha, you gave him a friendly wave that he gave a cheeky wink in response, eyes scanning the room to see if you could see Rooster, but he was so clever at that. He could just disappear, and no one was ever the wiser. His Bronco wasn’t in the car park, and he was gone.

Checking your phone for the first time in a while and getting in the passenger seat as Natasha got into the driver’s side, you chewed the inside of your cheek, desperate to get back to your apartment.

Rooster 🐓: Can’t wait to finish what we started x

You pressed the tap back, giving him a heart - no, thumbs up - in reply. Argh, thumbs up. The cringe you had to hide.

“Rooster coming over as soon as I drop you?” she teased, starting the engine.

Giving a gentle shrug, you replied, “Yeah.”

“I hope you two have the hottest sex,” she said sincerely. “Because I think you deserve Rooster Bradshaw's body.”

Holding your heart, you replied, "You're so sweet to say," you said. But you didn’t disagree. If Rooster wasn’t naked within minutes of his arrival, you thought you might erupt. The nerves were gone (for the moment) and all you could think of was what he could do with that body.

It was only a short trip back to your place, and you weren't surprised to see Rooster's truck out front with him sitting against the hood, shapely arms crossed across his broad chest. Jesus Christ, he was like a movie and he was coming up to your apartment. Was he always this handsome, your head screamed.

“Bold,” Natasha huffed a laugh. “Does he know I know?”

“He knows.”

"I hope you have really good sex tonight," Natasha said as she put the car in park to let you out. “Rooster, we know how you got that callsign. Take care of my girl, or I'll sic Hangman and Coyote on to you,” she continued as you got out of the car, and he smiled.

"Goodnight, Phoenix. Tell Bagman I said hello," he replied as you stood with him. She gave you a glare that you pretended not to see and she waited for just the slightest hint of the two of you together. 

“Hold hands!” she ordered.

“No,” Rooster replied. 

“Kiss!”

“We’re not circus monkeys,” you added.

“Show some affection. Please?” she begged as you finally caved, covering your giggles with a palm over your mouth and Rooster had to admit, it was hard not to do the same as he rumbled a laugh also.

When what she needed didn’t come, she rolled her eyes, gave the bird and drove off.

When her car disappeared around the corner, you looked up at him accusingly. “Jake and Natasha are a secret, remember?” you hissed at him as he made a face and pulled you into his arms. “Like you and me. She’s keeping our secret, it would be nice if you did the same.”

He rolled his eyes, mirth dancing freely in them and sighed. “Come here, you fuckin’ tease,” he kissed you deeply. “You’ve had me on a damn string all night,” he placed single kisses on your lips as you jerked back. “What?”

“How did you get your callsign?” you looped back, realising you’d never heard the story.

Shaking his head, he replied in no uncertain terms, “That is absolutely something you are not getting outta me tonight. Well, unless you ask nicely,” he figured, biting back his torment but he knew the story would blow your mind. Hopefully.

“Well, I know it’s usually based on unfortunate events, right?”

Sighing, Rooster nodded. “Mostly.”

“So…”

He shook his head again, an amused, tight-lipped smile on his face. “You’ll find out, I swear.”

Pouting, wide-eyed – fuck, don’t pout, Rooster begged. That look would lose him so many disagreements and it would probably lose him this one too. If he knew you had his sussed already, he’d be a dead man. “Please?”

“Jesus Christ,” he laughed, quietly as you batted your lashes and he rubbed his tired eyes. “Knock it off.”

“Will I think badly of you?” you wondered, stroking his chest.

“I hope not.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“You can find out at an appropriate time.”

“I’ll just text Natasha,” you said simply.

“She won’t tell you,” he guaranteed self-assuredly.

“Rooster,” you grunted, incredibly frustrated at his refusal to budge. You wanted to stomp, but he didn’t need to know how petulant you could be.

Staring at the stars above, Rooster prayed for patience and virtue. “I’ve known you thirty years. Why am I just learning you don’t take no for an answer?”

“It’s to my detriment,” you shrugged easily, trying to hold back a smile. He knew you knew you were breaking him. “It can be a problem. Especially when I want something.”

“I’m just beginning to realise.”

Grinning, you asked heading towards your apartment, “Coming?”

“Fuckin’ hope so,” he muttered to himself, his eyes drifted up and down, the curves of your body reminding him of what was hopefully on the other side of the door. “Just taking in the view. Please don’t mind me,” he called to you, licking his upper lip. 

Rooster was an ass man? Never would have picked it from the women that he entertained at the bar. You'd be lying to say your hips swayed just a little more, solely for his benefit. Rooster held his heart and looked at the stars above. 

“Sweet Jesus, you’ll put me in an early grave,” he mumbled, before running to catch you in his strong arms, making unlocking the door a little uneasy, his large hands rubbing circles across your torso.

You paused and turned back to look at him. He pulled back a little surprised at the reaction. “Before we go in, I have to tell you something.”

“Okay?” he said uncertainly.

“I know we know where this is going.”

“I hope so,” Rooster crossed his fingers and toes.

“I have to admit, I am…”

“You’re what?” Rooster licked his lips. “Sexy, because yes. Incredible? Yeah. Gee, you think so highly of yourself,” he joked, desperate to break the tension but you didn’t see his humour.

“Nervous.”

He nodded gently. He figured. “About what?”

You considered your words, heart rate rising as he turned you to face him. He gripped your wrist and brought it to his lips to kiss tenderly. “I felt a little rejected the other night when I asked you to sleep with me… and you didn’t.”

“Ahh, the night I showed the greatest restraint of my life,” he said with a hint of humour.

“Rooster…” you sighed.

“Sweet girl,” he straightened up. “After the wedding, I know you were so overwhelmed. I didn’t want you to be pressured to sleep with me. I gave you a lot to process,” he reasoned. “You will have to hold me back now. I know you want me, you know I want you. But if you aren’t ready, that’s okay too. I can give you as much time as you need,” he shrugged although it killed him to say.

They were the right words though, and your apprehension eased. 

Your neighbours must have hated you over the last few nights… your entire life was being played out at the front stoop. You breathed and turned the key, pushing the door open and giving Rooster a shy smile.

“If you need some space… I am happy to give you that too.”

You wandered in, looking back over your shoulder, curious if he would follow. “I don’t need space. Are you joining me?” you asked as he gave a small smile and quietly closed the door after him. He followed you to the living room, making himself comfy on the couch. “Not in here, Bradley,” you told him, continuing towards your bedroom.

“Fuck yes,” he said under his breath and bounced back up, quickly catching you in his arms, crowding your body as he joined you in your room. You loved that he enveloped you with his entire being, enjoying feeling so tiny in his arms. He’d done it a few times and you’d grown quite accustomed to it. “Hmm, so this is where the magic happens,” he teased, taking in your room. Again, light and airy like the living room. Linen, white, candles. Neat. He let you go and went to sit on the edge of your bed.

“I guess,” you shrugged, the nerves still very much bubbling under the surface as you watched him making himself so comfortable in your space. He gave a half-smile, and he held his calloused palms out to you, begging you to his lap.

“Come here. I gotta kiss you.”

“Just kiss?” you asked, approaching him and raking your fingers through his hair. He exhaled deeply. You stood over him, waiting for his answer.

“Tell me what you want and I’ll do it,” he looked up, his eyes dark. “Anything.”

You smiled, swirling his sandy waves around your fingers before grasping his face to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, dragging you to join him on the bed, both falling back on the soft mattress and in a moment, he was on you. He dragged your leg over his hip, bringing your bodies so fucking close. You could feel how hard he was, you knew how wet you were but the kisses, as amazing as they were, weren’t cutting it anymore. You wanted to feel his skin, trace the muscle and ridges of his body, strong, tanned, immaculate. “Bradley?”

“Yes, baby?” he asked, eyes opening to you.

“We need to get rid of the clothes.”

“Yes, we do,” he agreed eagerly. “Turn around for me?”

At his demand, you turned your back to him to loosen the zip. He hummed, making light work of it as you stood and let the dress fall to your feet. He swallowed roughly, just gazing back at him in your navy lingerie, desperate to be touched, taunted, turned inside out. 

And just as he suspected, you were absolutely beautiful. Every curve demanding to be adored, and cherished. Prayed to, just like he promised.

He reached out and pulled you to his lap, lips found yours again as you groaned into his mouth. Fuck, he loved the start of whatever this was. Learning about someone was one thing, but he'd be lying to say that he was desperate to see how your body worked. He’d sure as shit thought about it enough.

Desperate. Two ice-cold showers today desperate.

But it felt kind of amazing to just throw caution to the wind, learn about the other's body, learn how they liked to be kissed, where they want to be touched, and what their pleasure sounded like (and just how deep Rooster's voice when he was turned on).

"Can we level out please?" you asked quietly as he nodded and raised his muscular arms. Finding the hem, you pulled his plain white tee up slowly and even though you'd seen him shirtless countless times before... this was another level of sexy as he adjusted his dog tags down his chest, proudly. Holding his tee to your face, he urged you closer to him, patting his knee but let's be real. You didn’t need an invite. “Come finish what you started.”

“I just need a second,” you told him, kind of entranced by just how good his body was. How sexy the scars on Rooster were, they were entrancing to you although you knew he felt uncomfortable with them so closely scrutinised, but they looked very different with his flushed skin. The smattering of freckles across his shoulders and chest, the masculinity of his strong pecs and brawny shoulders and as he sat back lazily, his abs still glaringly obvious in his relaxed state.

“You okay?” he asked and quirked an anxious smile.

“More than okay,” you told him. “Trust me, I want this. Your body is incredible. I’m a little speechless,” you touched his soft skin, the smidgeon of dark hair on his chest and your hands drifted to the button on his jeans. His gaze dropped to watch your fingers pop the button undone. He wondered if there was anything sexier than being undressed by you. 

He breathed, sitting up and reaching for you again, “I am aching for you, baby.”

Nodding, you smiled softly. “There is no need for games – ”

“Fuck no,” he wrapped you up with one arm, the other digging into his back pocket to remove a sleeve of condoms, tossing them on the pillow, loud and proudly on display. The size on the foil didn’t surprise you in the slightest. 

Your phone ringing interrupted the revelry. “Sonova – ” you said together, frowning at each other. You sighed, reaching over him to pick up the phone but he beat you to it, reading the caller ID.

"Arron," he told you, a bit perplexed. "Who's Arron at 11pm, sweet girl?"

Grinning sardonically, was Rooster insinuating this was a booty call? The tone in his voice was muddled with confusion, a little malice… and maybe just a little demanding, because he wasn’t sleeping with anyone else, and kind of expected that you weren’t either –

"Ew. Rooster, gross,” you made a face and snatched the phone, and he eased back on his palms, watching you through a confused, lidded gaze. “It’s Annie's husband. Just ignore it, Annie has gone into false labour already this pregnancy," you tossed the phone away and tried kissing him again as the phone stopped ringing. Sighing in relief, you focused on tracing a scar on his left shoulder with your lips as he shuddered. It felt powerful and wonderful to watch Rooster wilt under your touch.

He relaxed a little and held you again, his hands groping your ass boldly.

“Look, are you sure?" Rooster asked, finding it difficult to concentrate as you traced his gnarliest scar. "She's pretty far along," he tried, breathing shallow and head desperate to lull,. He started to lay down, taking you down with him.

"She's fine," you brushed him off, your lips moving to the scar on his throat, and he swore blue, swallowing hard. He was finding your sweet lips were his goddamn kryptonite and jolted as your palms started for the zip on his fly. “Please stop thinking about my sister.”

He laughed, shaking his head. "Sorry… that feels so good," he told you, rasp thick and you carelessly dragged your palms over his hard cock. “Fuck…” his hands moved to your bra, fiddling momentary before it popped open. Anticipation building to a fever pitch, he sat you back and brushed the straps off your shoulders as the FUCKING PHONE RANG AGAIN.

"Jesus Christ!" you exclaimed, a rage blackout immanent, as he breathed and reached to hand you the phone again, this time Annie calling. “Annie, what the fuck?” you answered, Rooster bit back a laugh at your frustration, his head collapsing back against the soft mattress and resisting to show his own irritation.

He was glad to know he wasn’t the only one.

“The doctor is recommending I go into for a c-section, you asshole,” she sniped back. “I've been in labour since last night.”

“Oh,” you said, taken back as you rested your palm against his chest to steady yourself. Suddenly panicked, you gently pulled your bra back over your chest and straps back over your shoulders, demanding a little modesty like Annie was in the room. “Are you okay?”

“Well, aside from dealing with a baby that doesn't want to come out of my vagina, I'm on gas and morphine that hasn't touched the sides, and now about to be cut in two, I've had better days.”

“Okay, okay. Do you want me to come in?” you took in Rooster's dejection and smiled sadly as he forced a smile himself, telling you silently it was okay. He sat up and kissed your shoulder and moved his hands to your back to try and re-do your bra, bless him. You smiled into the crook of his neck and he held you tenderly.

“It’s okay,” he whispered into your ear.

“I need Arron. Arron is home with Oscar. Can you go over and sit?” Annie almost begged. She sounded worried, she sounded scared and it only made you feel the same.

“Of course,” you told her. "I'll be right there. Whatever you need,” you massaged the nape of Rooster’s neck as he shrugged into it, gripping your hips, getting those last-ditch touches in before the night was cut short. It wasn’t the first time this week he’d be taking matters into his own hands.

“Thank you,” Annie said, you heard the agitation in her voice. “Love you.”

“Love you. I’ll be right there,” you said as the line died.

"So, your sister is having a baby?" Rooster reckoned.

“Yeah, they're going to have to operate,” you told him softly, and he looked up, concerned. “I'm going to go stay with Oscar so Arron can go to the hospital. I'm so sorry, Rooster.”

He smiled lightly. “It's fine. Duty calls, I completely get it,” he declared. He helped you to your feet and stood himself.

“I’ll just get some jeans and a shirt,” you told him, sadly stepping away as he retrieved his shirt and whipped it over his head, mussing his sun-kissed curls further. Gosh, you loved his hair so unruly like that and gently sprayed your fingers through it, teasingly making the situation worse as he gave you a hopeful smile before he lightly moved you to arm's length. You ventured to find a tee and your jeans on the day chair, and frustratingly, you were both dressed again. Pent up and nothing to show for it.

“I'll go so you can get organised,” he said softly. “Looks like you’ve got a few big days coming up.” 

“Mom was planning to come over and stay with Oscar and spend time with Annie and the baby, but obviously it's all happened a bit sooner than expected,” you tried.

"You don't have to explain it to me," he reassured you. Taking both your hands as he led you to the door, Rooster sighed. “Call, text, when you know what’s going on, okay? If you need me, I’ll be right there.”

Moving to your tiptoes, you kissed him deeply, forcing as much apology and passion onto him as you could. He willingly accepted it and wrapped you into his strong arms, lips as forceful against yours, his large palms pressing into your back and down your spine, grasping down your ass and between your legs as sighed against his lips. God, all you could think about was finally fucking him and you guys were so close. So damn close.

He pulled back with a sigh. You could sense his disappointment as he could yours.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. Go take care of your family.”

“Okay,” you said as he unravelled around you and let you slip away from him. “Goodnight, Bradley.”

“Friday,” he said simply and wandered away.

“Friday,” you said quietly after him and closed the door. “Fuck,” you muttered, biting your lip and the emotion that threatened to spill if you gave in to it.

Rooster lumped himself on a bench as he went back to his locker. He was drenched in sweat, aching and exhausted from his flight. He found his phone and checked over his shoulder, seeing your name. The last thing he needed was Jake or Javy spotting it and it would be on for young and old.

Sweet girl: I’m an aunty again! Ava Rose was delivered at about 1am this morning, she’s fine, Annie is fine, but pretty banged up and sore. I’ll be with Oscar until Annie and Aaron are home. It could still be a few days as Annie recovers. I’m sorry about last night again. I hope you had a good day x

He breathed, just your name made his pulse rate jump again. You’d texted hours ago, so he responded quickly.

Rooster 🐓: Congrats, I’m glad it went as well as possible. I hope you’re okay, looking forward to Friday x

It was short and succinct. He wasn’t cross but knew you wouldn’t have the time to talk, fussing over little Oscar. He tossed his phone back in his locker, ready to rid the day from him. Tired, aching and hungry, he just wanted to get the days over until he saw you again. Friday.

four.

masterlist.

a/n: hi team, thanks for all the love on the last chapter, especially those who commented and reblogged, you’re the true mvp’s. Hope you enjoy, send an ask on anon with your thoughts (no one will ever know it’s you!) x I hope the tags also work! because these fics are dying a slowww death.

[ash5monster01]

Perfect To Love Part 6

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, angst, trust issues.

Summary: Beth Walker was used to living in the shadows. She had only one friend and anyone else who paid her mind usually bullied her for her size. So she learned to keep her mouth shut, her head down, and her heart closed because she had to accept the fact that she would be nothing more than the fat girl to people. That is until Robin decides Beth needs more in life and that might just include a boy who she never would’ve thought could see her for who she truly was.

word count: 2,887

Part 5 ←→ Part 7

Masterlist

Beth never thought she’d be asked on a date. A real one at that. If she thought she was freaking out the first time she had hung out with the Harrington boy she definitely was now. This time it did have labels, it was a date, at a fancy place that she wasn't prepared for. People in public would look on and be confused as to why she was with him and she'd be dressed up in some frilly dress, feeling entirely not like herself. It almost wasn't fair knowing that not a single person could accept the fact she deserved to be there, they'd just look at her and think she was pretending to be someone she’s not. A big girl brought out on a dare, bet, whatever kind of joke because there was absoltuley no way any self respecting man would ask a girl like her to a place like Enzo's.

Of course Robin didn't see the issue when she dragged her to meet Nancy at the store. Robin could accept her losses when it came to not knowing how to dress for a date. Lucky for her Nancy was nice enough to help anytime she asked. So she dragged Beth along, excited for her, expecially after her talk with Steve. She knew Steve would love her if he got to know her and that was exactly what hapened. He liked Beth a lot and it couldn't have worked out better that she made him spend time with her in the first place. Now she got to watch as Beth experienced happiness and the excitement of first love.

"This is useless, I'm too big to wear a pretty dress" Beth sighed, shoving some outifts down the rack and out of her sight. It was a waste. Any dress she remotely liked either didn't fit her boobs or it clung to her stomach. Something she wasn't exactly willing to flaunt. Then if she found one that worked it didn't have a back and she wasn’t willing to show off her rolls.

"That is not true Beth" Nancy told her as she shook her head. Robin put a comforting hand on Beth's back.

"Nancy is right, you can wear whatever you want. Social norms do not have to be to your standards" Robin told her, hoping one day she would be able to do this when she finally felt comfortable enough to be out with a girl she liked.

"Beth, we just have to find what accentuates you best but we won’t find that if you can’t recognize the beautiful parts of yourself” Nancy told her, eyes searching her own as she hoped Beth would realize there wasn’t a single ugly thing about her. Beth glanced nervously between the girls as they waited for her to answer Nancy.

“My shoulders aren’t bad, not as defined but I’m willing to show them off. I guess my boobs too” Robin giggled as Nancy smiled brightly at the girl, already having something in mind.

“See Beth, we’re going to find you the best outfit in the world” Robin praised and Beth chuckled before shaking her head.

“You know, it’s funny” Nancy said and both girls turned to peer at her, her continuing to grab options off the rack.

“What is?” Robin asked and Nancy looked up, a fond smile on her face.

“The last time I went shopping for an outfit for Steve Harrington was with Barb, she had made a comment to me that day about wishing how she could pick out an outfit for a guy like him one day. In some way it sorta feels like she’s here with us” Nancy told them, heart very obviously still broken for her friend who had so much life left to live.

“I’m sorry Nancy” Beth began to apologize for her loss but Nancy shook her head.

“Don’t be, just make sure you experience it to the fullest. If not for you than for her” Beth knew what Nancy had meant, knew that Barb felt the same way about life that Beth did. It was the first time she realized she could leave this world tomorrow and regret hiding herself from it for so long. So she made sure to nod and agree, so that some part of grief could be relieved from Nancy.

“Alright, give me those before I change my mind” Beth held her hand out to Nancy and the girls smile widened as she handed her the piles of clothes she had picked out. Beth walked off in search of a changing room, hoping she wouldn’t regret this.

To Beth’s surprise she didn’t. Every outfit Nancy had picked had complimented her in the ways she wanted. She didn’t realize fashion or shopping could be this fun. She was proven more and more wrong each time she stepped out to show them just to smile wider every time they complimented her. Once she reached the dress at the bottom of the pile she prayed that it would look okay. Dresses always felt like they hugged her body in places she didn’t want to be seen. But as she slipped the black silk over her head, spaghetti straps holding up the fabric that gave it an off the shoulder look, she let out a small gasp. The dress flowed out from the waist, hiding her stomach and the black color giving her a slimmer look. The off the shoulder neckline accentuated her cleavage and shoulders. All of this and Beth realized it was the first time in a long time she looked in the mirror and thought she was pretty.

"Oh wow, Beth" Robin stood as the girl slowly slipped out the dressing room. The girl lifted nervous hands and brushed down the front of the dress, a teary smile covering her face.

"That's the dress Beth" Nancy smiled, heart warming over at the sight of the girl so happy. A girl who had been nothing but kind the short amount of time she had known her, so deserving of this.

"Is this really what it feels like to be pretty?" Beth questioned and Robin's heart broke in two as she saw the girl with tears streaming down her cheeks. Without much thought she stood to wrap the girl into a hug, squeezing her tight. Robin had assumed Beth at least thought she was worth it, it was just the comments from people like Colin that made her think different. She never really realized Beth believed every word. Because of that she began to cry as she held her friend, happy and heart broken all at the same time for her.

"You always were pretty Beth, just wait until we do your hair and makeup?" Nancy told her, tears of her own burning at the back of her eyes. She had never felt guilty for being confident before, but seeing how tore up Beth was over these feelings she always had made her feel guilty.

"I hope he likes it" Beth chuckled through her tears and Robin pulled back to give her a smile.

"He's gonna love it"

After the short shopping trip and lunch the girls went home to get Beth ready for the date. A very fancy date too. Steve had wanted to make her feel special and as she looked at the small heels Nancy offered for her to borrow the nerves finally set in. This time it was real, the night filled with expectations, and Beth was convinced her chest was going to give out because as Nancy styled her hair and applied lipstick, Beth realized there was a chance that it could be kissed away. That was the scariest part.

Steve’s hands shook as he knocked at the door. This was something he didn’t want to screw up. He had messed so many things up in his life and he needed to make some real changes. In no way would this redeem himself but for the first time Steve realized he was going on a date with a girl because of how much he liked her personality and not just based on her looks. Even Nancy he had noticed her looks first, he always just learned to like the girls for who they were later. Now he realized how wrong it was, now he was going to do it right. Love someone for all of them, not learn to love those pieces later.

“So you’re the boy?” the tone was accusatory, deep, and thundered through Steves ears. His eyes flicked up to spot the burly man, broad shoulders, at least five inches taller than him, with narrowed eyes. Yet he knew those eyes, they were Beth’s, and this was her father.

“Hello sir, I’m Steve Harrington” Steve used all his strength to not let his hand shake as he reached it towards Beth’s Dad for a handshake. His other hand gripping the pink peonies in his hand with a death grip. He was so glad he decided against the roses.

“I know who you are, she isn’t ready just yet” Steve dropped his hand that had been denied, stomach twisting in a knot. He was sure the man was bound to turn him away but he stood to the side, allowing entry in the home and Steve took a nervous gulp before stepping in.

“Oh look at him, so handsome” a much softer looking woman rushed from the kitchen, basically identical to Beth. Her soft brunette curls, face shape, and shortness resembled her like a mirror. It was honestly scary.

“Mrs Walker, so lovely to meet you” Steve put on his million watt smile, hoping to impress at least one parent. Leaning down he accepted a hug from her, almost laughing at the height difference.

“Such a sweet young man, why don’t you join my husband in the living room while you wait. I’ll grab you some ginger ale to help those nerves” she poked lovingly at Steve’s stomach and he chuckled and thanked her before nervously following Mr. Walker to the living room. He awkwardly sat on the couch next to where he plopped into his easy chair, more than likely his designated spot.

“I have a lot of tools” Mr Walker spoke after a moment and Steve gave him a confused look.

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t understand” Steve began to shake his head and he finally turned to look at him.

“You will understand. You so much as hurt my little girl, whether this is you pulling some sort of prank or you know you’ll end up leaving her for someone else. I have a lot of tools that I can do a lot of things with, in a dark mechanic shop, where no one can find you for days” Steves eyes widened and his heart began to pound, close to giving out.

“I understand sir. I promise you this isn’t some prank either, I really like your daughter” Steve finally spit out, throat dry from fear.

“You better, she’s perfect. She deserves to know that, not have some douche picking on her. I know guys like you, I used to be one of those guys. I remember how we treated people who were different. You so much as look at her wrong I’ll end you” Steve frantically nodded, unsure if he was on the verge of tears or heartbroken for Beth. She deserved so much more than all of this. Beth had been hurt so much her own father couldn’t even let his guard down around new people.

“Here you go son, let me go check in on Bethany” Mrs Walker returned with a cold glass of ginger ale. Steve anxiously drank it, looking to soothe nerves no longer from impressing Beth. Suddenly it felt like his neck tie was too tight, maybe it was since he let Dustin tie it. He was trying to teach him after all.

“Wait, Bethany?” Steve questioned and the woman smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, we just called her Beth for short so much it just sorta stuck” she explained before moving up the stairs. Mr. Walker had now turned back to the TV, pretending the boy he just threatened murder upon wasn’t sitting next to him.

“Hey Steve” Steve felt sweet relief as soon as he saw Robin sliding down the banister, stumbling once she jumped off the end.

“Robin, I’m not taking a trip to the ER tonight” Mr Walker said, voice cold and unforgiving but Robin had grown used to it.

“You got it Alan” she saluted and the man rolled his eyes, yet Steve realized the eye roll was one of appreciation.

“Hey Rob” he smiled at his friend, his best friend. Robin plopped beside him on the couch, smile permanent.

“Beth should be right down, Allie stopped her for pictures” Robin explained, clearly comfortable enough in this home to refer to Beth’s parents by their first names.

“Mom, please stop. I’m leaving” Steves ears perked up as he heard the familiar voice and suddenly he was watching an absolute vision rush down the stairs, cheeks flushed from embarrassment and possibly nerves. Fuck, she looked breath taking. Steve froze on the spot, realizing he had never seen her shoulders before. Her hair was framed perfectly around her face, lips red with lipstick.

“You’ll catch flys like that son” Steve snapped out of it, looking at her father with shock as he called him out for being too stunned to speak.

“You ready?” Beth asked with a soft smile and Steve nodded, clambering out of his seat to approach her.

“B, you look. Wow” Steve couldn’t seem to remember a single word in the dictionary and Beth lightly smiled, tucking some hair behind her ears.

“Those for me?” she asked and Steve nodded, almost shoving the peonies he had strangled into her hands. She quickly smelled them, smiling before handing them to Robin.

“Don’t kill them” she told her and Robin nodded before turning back to the TV as well.

“Let’s go” Steve offered her an arm and Beth nervously took it before heading towards the door.

“Curfew is 10, any later Harrington and you know what’ll happen” Steve nervously chuckled and nodded before finally leading Beth outside where he could take a breath of relief.

“Sounds like you and my Dad had quite the chat” Beth teased but what she didn’t expect was the Harrington boy to cling onto her in a hug, wrapped tightly against her.

“He’s so scary, please don’t let him kill me” Steve muttered into her shoulder and she laughed, a comforting hand rubbing his back.

“Come on hot shot, he won’t hurt you” Beth giggled, her hand lacing with his own and leading him towards his own car. She wasn’t sure where this confidence came from but she realized it was more than likely because she felt pretty. Confidence is so much easier when you actually believe it.

Once in the car she had expected him to focus on getting them to the restaurant but Steves hand returned through her fingers after shifting the car into drive. Butterflies erupted in her stomach and for the first time she genuinely felt like Steve wanted to be on this date and spending it with her. So she smiled at their conjoined hands, finally feeling worth something for the first time in a very long time.

“You look fucking gorgeous by the way. That dress is beautiful, you’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re even here with me right now” Beth gave him a pointed look and he glanced over just to let out a disappointed sigh. “I’m serious B. Stop thinking everything I say is a lie”

“I um. I’m sorry. It’s just hard to believe when no guy other than my own father has said it before” Beth’s head dropped and she nervously started to fiddle with Steve’s fingers. His body warmed over at the feeling and he quickly gave her hand a squeeze so she would stop.

“I promise I’ll never lie to you. Now say something like ‘thank you Steve, you look extremely handsome yourself if I may add’ and we should be good” Beth allowed a belly laugh to tumble past her lips as he said this and she shook her head with amusement.

“God Harrington, so full of yourself” she teased and he turned and flashed her a wide grin, realizing that in this moment they were more comfortable with each other than ever before. That right now was real. It was so real that Steve wanted to kiss her so desperatley, he wasn't sure he could wait until the end of the date, and the original plan of kissing her outside of her house was now scrapped since her Dad absolutely terrified the shit out of him. He told himself he'd do it after dinner, in the car, that way he won't risk murder.

"You ready?" Steve asked as he parked outside of the restaurant and Beth gave him a small smile before lightly nodding.

"I guess there's no backing out now" she teased and he rolled his eyes, lifting her hand interlocked with his own to press a kiss into the back of it, sealing it with a promise of a real kiss later.

"True, you're stuck with me now B"

Taglist: @kindablackenedsuperhero @rinarecommends @starryeyedpoet17 @crustless-toast @loverofmarsss @alexa-33 @bethanysnow @middle-of-the-earth @princessadriana4-blog @mochminnie @legendaryhumandiplomatgoop

Comment if you want to be added to the tag list :))

[itsthecherryontop]

Adrenaline Rush (Billy Hargrove)

Scene from Chapter Two of my Billy Hargrove Slowburn Enemies to Lovers Fic

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Henderson OC (Halle)

Chapters Posted: 23/49 UPDATES WEEKLY

Sighing in relief, I turned out of the study room and gathered my things. There were ten minutes of lunch left and I needed fresh air. I walked my way to the bleachers lining the football field and took a deep breath of the cold air. I should have listened to Dustin and stayed home. I was too tired to deal with any more Upside Down shit today. Every muscle in my body was aching to get on my bike and ride away from there, but I knew I couldn’t leave Steve alone in class after what just happened. 

Sitting on the cold metal I pulled out the sandwich I had packet. I wasn’t even very hungry, but it was better than sitting there with shaking hands. Slipping my headphones back on I laid down, watching the clouds pass. Maybe I could just sleep through the next period. If I didn’t show up Steve would leave to search for me and we could both skip. 

The smell of a burning cigarette wafted through the air, instantly causing me further disinterest in my food. Sitting up on my elbows I looked for the sources. Leaning against the wall at the far of the school were Billy Hargrove and Tina smoking. Hearing Tina force a loud laugh at something the blond said through my headphones was the deciding factor that it was my cue to head inside. 

Finding my seat next to Steve, he looked over at me like he wanted to talk about the scene at the library, but knew he couldn’t. Placing a forced smile on my face that I hoped was reassuring I addressed him, “It will be fine. Nancy’s smart she won’t do anything. Especially not if it puts people she cares about in danger.”

“I know. I’m just worried about her,” he confessed with a heavy sigh. 

“I am too, but like you said. We are gonna go to that party and have a good time. We will be stupid normal teenagers.”

“Yeah, stupid teenagers. I can do that. Am I still driving you?”

“Well, I don’t plan on biking there.”

As I exited the building, I grabbed my bike and rode over to the middle school. As the younger students rushed out of the door, I searched the faces for my brother and his friends while I approached the bike racks. After the crowd had thinned out slightly, four boys emerged in Ghostbusters costumes. 

“Hey, you guys ready to go trick or treating?” I asked as they approached. 

“We were the only ones dressed up today,” Dustin complained as he reached for his bike. 

“Last year everyone dressed up,” Lucas added. 

“There is nothing wrong with that. It just means everyone else is a loser,” I replied trying to make them feel better. “I don’t even have to see anyone else's costumes to know that you guys had the best costumes. I mean you guys are the fucking Ghostbusters what is cooler than that?”

“My mom’s here. I’ll see you guys later,” Will stated before walking off as we called our goodbyes.

“No, everyone made fun of our costumes,” Mike snarked and we started pedaling home. 

“Yeah, even the new girl,” Dustin commented. 

“Well fuck them! It doesn’t matter what they say cause it’s not true. I bet all those other kids wanted to wear their costumes today too, but you know why they didn’t? Cause they were scared. Scared of what other people would think of them. And when they get older they are going to regret living for what other people want and not doing what makes them happy. You got that? But you guys did what you wanted and that makes you braver than all those other shitheads,” I ranted. “Who cares if they think you are weird or a freak?! Do you think a normal person could have fought literal monsters? I mean look at you, you are the bravest kids I have ever met. And if they can’t see that then they can go fuck themselves. You guys are badass fucking monster killers!”

The boys laughed as we made our way down the road, passing trees of changing colors. Spread out across the right lane the boys discussed why everything changed that Halloween. At the sound of an engine, I turned to see a car speeding toward us. 

“Guys?” I called, trying to get the boys' attention. Seeing that the car wasn’t slowing down I tried again screaming, “GUYS! GET OFF THE ROAD!” The boys started frantically pedaling faster. “TO THE SIDE!”

One by one the boys crashed into the side of the road with shouts. Seeing as I was behind them I had to pedal faster so I would land further up than where they landed not wanting to hit them. Lord knew running into them at that speed would cause some serious injuries. My bike skitted out from under me as I reached the shoulder just before the car passed. Landing hard I slammed into the ground rolling until I hit a tree trunk. Looking down the road I saw the car speeding away.  Even at just a glimpse, I knew that car, a blue Camaro, belonging to none other than Billy Hargrove. 

Pushing my palms against the ground I lifted myself off the ground. My eyes watered at the sting of pain I felt. 

“Shit,” I cursed sitting up. “Are you guys okay?” 

Looking over at them they all looked fine. It didn’t look like they had a scratch on them. They seemed busy discussing MadMax who was probably siblings with that mullet-headed psycho.  Looking down I could see all the damage done. My jeans were completely torn open on my right leg revealing scraps covering most of my leg. I could already tell I would bruise on my arm from where I landed on my bike, which also happened to leave a cut. Lastly, I could feel my face was fairly beaten up from hitting the ground. 

“Holy shit!” Dustin shouted as he ran toward me, followed by Mike and Lucas. 

“Are you okay?” Mike asked. 

“Will you be able to walk? Your bike is wrecked,” Lucas exclaimed. 

“I swear to god I am going to take Steve’s bat to that car. That psychotic asshole should have his fucking license revoked,” I seethed trying to stand up. 

“So that must be Max’s brother driving then,” Dustin suggested. 

“Are you sure you can walk the rest of the way home? You don’t look okay,” Lucas worried inspecting each of my injuries. 

“I’m sure it looks worse than it is. Plus, I am not letting you leave me alone out here.”

“We will walk with you and you can hop on the back of my bike if you need. We still have a few miles to go,” Mike offered, picking up my bike to hand it to me. 

“Thanks. You guys are good kids.”

The walk home was extremely tedious. Just the two miles left took an hour and 20 minutes versus the normal 15-minute bike ride. As soon as we entered the door Dustin rushed me to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. I was glad my mom wasn’t here to fuss over every scratch. Deciding it would be easier to shower before treating the wounds, Dustin left for his room. 

Stripping my clothes off ended up being far more painful than I had initially thought. The blood had started to dry on my leg and arm causing the fabric to stick to my skin. After one of the worst showers of my life, I inspected the extent of my injuries in the mirror. There were traces of redness along most of the right side of my body. One of the worst consequences of fair skin: bruising easily. My torso survived pretty much unscathed, with my legs taking the worst of the heat. My face had scraps along my cheek temple and jaw, which was going to bruise. 

Reaching for the rubbing alcohol, I tried to mentally prepare myself for the pain I was about to cause myself, knowing I would likely cry either way. Eventually, I just gave up and called Dustin in to pour the bottle over my leg. It would take too long to use a rag and I couldn’t bring myself to dump the bottle over the open cuts even after much self-convincing. Thank god, Dustin didn’t have the same reservations as he emptied half the bottle over my thigh. He did apologize profusely after I spent the next minute and a half cursing with watering eyes. 

After covering any open wound as best as I could. By the time I departed the bathroom, it was already 6. Steve would be picking me up in 45 minutes. Changing into my costume, I made my way to the kitchen. 

“You’re still going?” Dustin asked getting ready to leave to meet his friends.

“I already told Steve and Nancy I would go. It’s a big deal for them. They need a night to be normal teenagers,” I responded grabbing leftover pasta from the fridge. “And as you can see I am still standing. It takes a lot more to kill me than some dumb teenage boy.” 

“Are you sure you will be okay? You were pretty hurt. The adrenaline might not have worn off yet.”

“It’s been two hours. I am pretty positive the adrenaline has worn off. I bandaged it all myself and you helped me disinfect it so there is nothing to worry about. Plus, I will be with Steve and Nancy, so go have fun and bring me back some candy.”

“Okay. Just be careful.”

“I always am. Love you,” I shouted as he closed the door. 

Finishing up the rest of my reheated pasta, I cleaned my plate finishing just as I heard the horn of Steve’s car. Climbing into the backseat, both passengers turned to me in concern. 

“Halle, what happened are you okay?” Nancy frantically asked.

“Teenage boys suck at driving so I fell off my bike racing to get out of the way, but I’m fine. It is all surface wounds. I’m patched up and good to go,” I explained. 

“Are you sure you don’t just want to stay home? I’ve been in enough fights to know your face is going to bruise,” Steve tried to soothe. 

“Look I iced my face already. There is nothing else I can do right now and I would rather not sit at home alone until my mother comes home and helicopters over me because I got a little scraped up.  Plus I think it adds to my costume don’t you think? Dead or tortured Indiana Jones is way more original.”

“Okay, but if it starts hurting a lot tell me and I will take you home. Deal?” Steve negotiated. 

“Yeah, that sounds fair,” I agreed as he turned, leaving only Nancy facing me with a tight-lipped smile. 

There were already cars lining Tina’s driveway as pulled up to her house. I was already starting to dread my decision to come. Slowly exiting the car I followed the couple inside. The party had barely started and the inside of the house was crowded and hot. 

Hanging around the edges of the party we talked, well more like Nancy and Steve talked while I played the third wheel. Glancing around I decided I would never host a party. There was toilet paper in the fan and empty cups and other trash abandoned on the floor. Tina had signed herself up for a serious clean-up tomorrow. 

“I invited Jonathan,” Nancy announced to me. 

“I doubt he will come. He doesn’t like parties and he is in charge of watching Will tonight,” was all I responded. 

I was far more social than Jonathan and even I didn’t normally show up to parties. I would rather be with my brother and his friends than here as lame as that seemed. I just didn’t do well with small talk. I didn’t have any interest in a hangover tomorrow. Nor did I want some moron’s beer breath in my face or his hands on my body. I had no reason to be here other than for my friends and the fact I like dancing. 

“Do you guys want to dance?” I asked hoping I would be spared from dancing without them. When they shook their heads no, I realized I was either going to have to solo it or suffer alone all night. “Okay, well come find me when you plan on leaving I guess.”

Making my way to the kitchen I grab a small amount of what I have no doubt is a strongly spiked punch. Downing the near-pure alcohol substance I make my way around the room until I find someone I know well enough. Before I could get far I heard someone call my name. Turning around I came face to face with Tina.

“Halle? Is that you?” She asked looking over me. 

“Yeah, the one and only,” I responded. 

“I’m surprised you came. You aren’t really known for your appearance at parties.”

“What can I say I heard it was going to be a great party. I love your Madonna costume by the way. You look amazing.”

“Thank you. I went all the way to the outlet mall a few towns over to get the right pieces for it. You certainly went all out with your costume. Indiana Jones right? The facial makeup for the injuries is incredible. How long did that take you?” she asked lifting her cup to her mouth. 

“The scraps I got falling off my bike earlier but the bruises and blood are all fake. You’d be surprised with how far a little eyeshadow and food coloring can get you in the fake injury world,” I joked.  

After a few songs, which luckily Tina joined in on, I went back over to Steve and Nancy, who were still near the wall. As I approached them I started regretting leaving the dancefloor as Shout at the Devil came on. 

“Are you guys gonna dance or mope? It’s a party. Stupid teenagers remember?” I encouraged. 

“Dancing sounds like a great idea,” Steve began to say, as chanting began outside. Steve’s eyes narrowed in on something across the room and I followed his gaze. “For fuck’s sake.” I heard Steve mutter as Billy set his eyes on Steve and made his way over. 

“I am too sober to deal with this,” I declared walking back to the kitchen with Nancy in tow. 

“What’s in this?” She asked a boy in a toga standing next to the punch bowl. 

“Pure fuel!” He yelled. 

I simply shrugged as Nancy grabbed a plastic cup. Grabbing my own I placed a small amount within it and downed it trying to ignore the burn of my esophagus. Nancy however always ambitious, downed half a cupful. As Steve suddenly appeared suggesting she slowed down. She quickly brushed him off and pulled me towards the dancefloor.

 Looking at the interaction between Steve and Nancy, I had a feeling I was missing something. Either way, something was going to give and it was not going to end well. 

Nancy and Steve seemed to ignore whatever it was, so I decided to not bring it up. Whatever it was could wait for tomorrow. Tonight was for normalcy. Feeling the light buzz and the Blondie song blaring through the speakers, I spun and swayed to the beat singing the words. It didn’t matter who was watching, the lights were bright, and the house loud enough to muffle the fears that whispered in my mind. For the first time in what felt like months, I didn’t have to worry. 

Throwing my head back I laughed, feeling free. Why didn’t I attend parties more often? I felt like a bird spreading its wings for the first time after living in a cage. The desert getting its first rain of the year. The sun finally peeking through the clouds after a harsh winter. 

After Nancy downed her third drink, I needed some fresh air. Excusing myself I stepped into the backyard, which had calmed down since Hargrove’s keg stand. Sitting down on an empty chair with a glass of water I leaned back and looked at the stars. At the edge of Hawkins, the stars were always easier to see, being farther away from the town lights. My mind stilled like ripples in a pond as I caught my breath, still riding the after-dancing high. 

Finishing my water I headed back inside looking for a bathroom. Making my way back to the dancefloor, I searched for Nancy and Steve. Figuring they would join me I entered the mass of bodies, turning my body to the rhythm, dancing with random people. 

After a few songs, I pardoned myself from the boy I was dancing with in search of my friends. When I didn’t find them outside or anywhere in the house I started asking random people. 

“Harrington? He left with Wheeler after a fight, well more like he left alone and Wheeler left with the Byers Perv,” Tommy bragged overhearing me ask Nicole. 

I could feel my face drop as I absorbed his statement. They wouldn’t just leave me, would they? They know I don’t have any other way home. 

“Wow, Henderson. Why the long face? Don’t tell me they were your ride?” Tommy teased. When I didn’t answer he laughed. “Oh shit! Did they really leave you? Bummer. Knarly costume though.”

“Thanks, Tommy,” I said as I walked away. 

Looking at my watch it was already eleven. Heading upstairs to where I saw a phone, I pushed past the stumbling bodies. Grabbing the phone I dialed Steve’s number knowing his parents weren’t home. When he didn’t answer I tried again. On the third call, I heard the phone connect. 

“Steve-” I began before I heard him disconnect the phone. Knowing he left the phone off the receiver so it wouldn’t ring again, I slammed the phone down releasing a strangled scream.

 Almost everyone in this house was far too intoxicated to drive, so I would have to walk the 5 miles. Downing another serving of punch, I grabbed a water bottle and practically shoved my way out the door ramming into anyone in my way. Sure enough, Tommy was right. Steve’s burgundy BMW was nowhere to be seen. 

The road was dark as I walked on its edge. The further I walked the more I realized how tired I was. My body started aching the further I walked and being surrounded by the woods didn’t help my mentality. Every ounce of freedom I had felt at Tina’s vanished. I could practically hear the scraping of my self-created cage bars as they rose from the ground locking me in. 

If I died out here I would spend the rest of eternity haunting the shit out of those two. I don’t care what happened, I would never have deserted them at a party without a ride home. Especially after the events of last year. 

Is this how Barb felt? No, I mean I only left her to get snacks. I mean I was unaware of the Upside Down and less than 100 yards away. She was alone for five minutes tops. They left me alone for five miles. I mean did they not care about me? Sure I felt like an afterthought sometimes, but they at least tried to include me. God, being the third wheel sucked. I mean even Jonathan didn’t try to make sure I had a ride, but then again he likely thought Steve would take me home. This has got to be one of the shittiest days of my life. 

I wish I at least had my Walkman, then I could overwhelm the eerie noises in the woods. Taking off my hat I swung it at my side. My feet were already starting to hurt, these combat boots were not broken in enough for this. Looking down at my watch, it showed I hadn’t even been walking for half an hour. I wasn’t even walking fast enough for my normal pace due to the aching in the right side of my body. Headlights shined behind me as I turned. Stepping off the road to avoid dying from drunk drivers, I watched as the car sped past me at an illegal speed. In fact, every car that passed was speeding far too fast.

I was going to kill Steve Harrington when I saw him tomorrow. Who leaves a teenage girl to walk home alone in the dark in the middle of nowhere? This is how I end up dead in a ditch and on the news for some vicious crime. I did not want to be the next victim of a Black Dahlia type of murder. 

The more I thought about it the angrier I got. I mean what kinds of friends do that? I just wanted to punch something. Stopping my march, I released a scream until my lungs were empty and my throat was raw. Collapsing on a patch of grass to the side of the road a sob escaped my lips. 

“Was I not worth caring for?” my mind whispered. “Would they even miss you?”

Dustin would. Dustin would always miss me. He was probably worried, I thought peeling my shoes from my feet to reveal bloody blisters on my heels. Tying my boots together I placed them over my shoulder as I stood whipping tears from my eyes. My socks scruffed against the cold pavement as I shuffled along. 

Maybe I should have asked Tommy for a ride. Sure he was a little drunk, but he would have driven me. Even if he didn’t want to Carol would have made him. At least then I had a chance of making it to town before sunrise. Hell, I should have just gone to Tina and asked her if I could just crash in a spare room for the night. She would have understood. I would have offered to help clean tomorrow if I needed to. 

 Drinking a sip of my water I checked the time again. It was nearly one in the morning and I still had at least another two miles. 

At the snap of a stick in the woods to my right, I froze, heart pounding, desperately looking for whatever was lurking in the shadows. Straining my eyes I couldn’t make out anything. Rationally I knew it was probably a mouse or raccoon maybe even a coyote, but my mind was already set on a Demogorgon lunging at me. When the leaves shuffled I bolted and my mind collapsed. 

I was right back in Hawkins Middle School running from the Demogorgon while carrying El. I could hear the screams of the Hawkings Lab employees behind me. The tearing of their flesh, breaking of bones as it caught them. Lured by the smell of blood from dead bodies, the monster’s calling card. The echos of their useless gunfire bombarded my eardrums leaving a ringing. The lights flickered as the air chilled. Digging my heels deeper I pushed faster. I could feel my socks tearing, the soles of my feet being shredded by the rough pavement. The shoes falling off my shoulders, forgotten in my wake. The hat and water bottle slid from my grasp as they fell to the ground behind me. 

My lungs screaming for the air I couldn’t breathe fast enough. Tears streamed from my face filling my eyes until I couldn’t see. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t stop. 

I could feel my steps get slower no matter how hard I screamed for them to keep up. My knees weakened until they buckled and I collided with the pavement. Automatically I clenched my eyes shut and curled upon myself as I hit the ground. Sobbing, a scream erupted from my throat as I prepared for razor teeth to rip into my skin. When the impact never came I opened my eyes to find myself alone in the middle of the road. There was no sign of a Demogorgon anywhere. What was wrong with me?

Unable to pick myself up I wept until I threw up, continuing to dry heave until I thought I was gonna pass out. I was so tired I wanted to lay down right there. I didn’t even care if someone ran me over. Maybe whoever came would see me and take me to the hospital. Everything hurt. 

I nearly fell over again when I eventually tried to stand. My feet were so scrapped I was leaving bloody footprints. My scrapes had reopened and I could already tell I created new ones. At an even slower pace, I dragged myself home. I thought about simply giving up and curling onto the grass or against a tree for the night, but Dustin would be worried. Mom would be furious if I was out all night. 

By the time I made it to the house, it was almost three. The streets were completely empty, which is probably a good thing as I looked like I had stepped out of a horror film.  Reaching the front door it was locked, and the key under the mat wasn’t there. I knew I didn’t leave my window open, so I knocked on Dustin’s. After a good five minutes of hard banging, he appeared. 

“Why the hell are you back so late? Where were you?” He hissed in the dim shine of his nightlight. 

“The door is locked and the key is gone,” I forced out as my as I could with the little remnants of my voice. 

“Well come in,” he ordered pulling his window open further open. 

Placing my hands on the window seal I tried to haul myself up, only to cry out. “I can’t. You’ve gotta open the front door.” 

“Are you drunk?”

“No, I barely had anything and it was hours ago.”

“Fine, I’ll open the door,” he grumbled leaving his room. 

As he opened the door he followed me back into the house announcing he was going back to bed. Entering the bathroom I bathed for the second time that day and cleaned my wounds. We would have to buy more rubbing alcohol at this rate. 

I was noticeably far worse than I had been earlier that day. The bruises had begun to develop color along my legs, arms, and face. As soon as I crawled into my bed, after downing a cup of water and ibuprofen I was out. 

I woke up that morning to a scream from my mother. Pushing myself out of bed I limped out into the entryway where my mother was yelling at Dustin 

“Is that blood? Do you think it is funny to scare me like this? You are gonna clean this up before you go see your friends,” she shrieked pointing at the trail of bloody footprints I had forgotten to clean up last night. 

“No, I didn’t do that. It’s pretty genius I have to hand that to Hal-” Dustin cut off as he saw me there. The color slightly draining from his face. 

“Sorry, that is my fault. I forgot to clean them up, ” I lulled too sore and tired to say much else. As soon as my mother's eyes caught on me she stopped with widened eyes, slowly approaching me with outstretched arms as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. 

“Oh, my god. My baby. What happened to you? Who did this? You know you can tell me. Oh, my poor baby. How could someone do this to you?” she cried hovering her hands over my arms afraid to hurt me. 

“I crashed on my bike, Mom. I’m fine.” 

“Oh honey why don’t you get in the car and I will take you to the hospital to get you looked at.”

“I already disinfected them and covered them. I was extra careful. I really just want to sleep. I am so tired, Mom.”

“Are you sure?” She asked. When I nodded she sighed, “Okay, I will make you your favorite for breakfast. How about that? I will head to the store right now. Dustin watch your sister please.”

Frantically she gathered her purse and keys. She was definitely going to come home with lots of snacks and first aid materials. As the door closed behind her Dustin stared at me until we heard her car pull out of the driveway. 

“What happened? Don’t even try to pull that shit that it was only a bike crash that you pulled with Mom. I know you didn’t look this bad after you crashed,” Dustin demanded more seriously than I had ever heard him. 

“I fell,” I stated as I began returning to my room. I could hear Dustin follow me as I entered my room. He stood at my door as I struggled to lie in my bed. “I’m tired and I had a really shitty night can you please let me sleep?”

“Do you promise to tell me later?” He bargained. 

“Yes. If anyone calls tell them I am sick.” With that, he left me to fall into a dreamless sleep in the safety of my room. 

“Halle. Halle, baby. You gotta wake up,” Mom instructed presenting a plate of eggs benedict. 

“Thank you,” I smiled with heavy eyes taking the warm plate.

“I was thinking that I want you to take the old Volkswagen when you are ready to go to school again. Taking you and Dustin, okay? I don’t want you riding your bike when you are still healing. If you are responsible, you can continue to drive it once you are better. That means no more instances like before. If Hopper even mentions you speeding you will lose car privileges again, understood?”

“Yes.”

That night I couldn’t sleep despite being tired. My mind kept flashing back to how I was positive a Demogorgon was chasing me. There had been nothing there, my brain simply decided it would play a Halloween prank on me and got lost in it. It felt like I was losing my mind. My brain lost the line between reality and fiction. 

Slowly I made my way to Dustin’s room, who was asleep at this time. Making my way to his bed I gently shook him awake. 

“What?” he replied half asleep. 

“Can I sleep in here? I’ll sleep on the floor. I just really don’t want to be alone right now,” my voice was still rough from the previous night breaking off at random places. 

“You can’t sleep on the floor. You won’t be able to get up. We will just sleep in your room,” he offered standing up and grabbing his pillow and blankets. 

Silently he settled onto the floor next to my bed. I stared at the ceiling as Mews jumped on my bed and curled up against my legs.

“I think there is something wrong with me. I’m losing it. I can’t tell what is real anymore,” I confessed. “I thought I was being chased by a Demogorgon last night, but there was nothing there. It was like I was right back in the middle school that night. I could hear those people from the lab, their screams, and their bullets. The sound of the Demogorgon. But I was all alone… there was nothing there.”

“Maybe it was your mind trying to protect you. Maybe there was something even if it wasn’t from the Upside Down.”

“But what if there wasn’t? What if it happens again, and this time in front of others? What if I am going crazy?”

“Then the rest of us will go crazy with you,” he stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world. I suppose he was right. We had all been through the same event. It would only make sense that we all suffered lingering effects the same.  “I found a new species yesterday.”

“You did? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I named him D'Artagnan. I call him Dart for short. I think he is some kind of terrestrial pollywog. I’ll show you him tomorrow and maybe we can get some books from the library.”

...

Dart was the most disgusting creature I had ever seen. It wasn’t the fact that he didn’t have eyes or that he looked like a slug, but the slime. The mucus coating was cold, sticky, and smelt bizarre.  I am all for animal protection, but if Dustin wasn’t obsessed with Dart I would have flushed him down the toilet. So I went along with it.

Continue Reading: archiveofourown.org

[ramblingoak]

*bursts through the door and skids across the floor, breathlessly*—YO HO HO MARY??!!

So I got an ask for vampire Mary and then someone else upped the ante and asked for pirate vampire Mary and really, who am I to resist that?? I'm really excited to get this finished (because I really want to share the banner and collage you made too xD).

Here is a little snippet I just wrote up (excuse any mistakes):

“Hey little starfish, what are you doing out so late?”

Your blood turned to ice water as the voice drifted up from behind you.  This was exactly why you were supposed to stay safe in your room at home.  Dealing with drunken sailors was easy but dealing with the man behind you was a different story.  Although technically he wasn’t a man at all…

Captain Mary Goore was a vampire.

When you gained the courage to face the pirate you’d been warned about since you were a child you couldn’t help but let out a fearful gasp.  They were dressed much like you’d expected.  All black from the three point hat on their head to the large boots on their feet.  You could see numerous weapons hanging from their belt: a flintlock pistol, a sword and at least a few daggers.  Those weren’t the deadliest weapons the pirate captain had though and when you finally looked up at their face the fangs in their mouth glinted in the moonlight.

“Does daddy know you’re down here?”  He grinned when you took a few steps back.  “I bet he doesn’t, I bet he thinks you’re safely tucked into your fancy bed.”

“No!  He does, he knows.  He uh, sent me down here.”  You flinched when the pirate laughed, a sharp sound that echoed against the alley walls.  “The guards know I am too.”

“Oh no, not “the guards”.  Whatever shall we do?”  Before you could blink he was right in front of you, mere inches from your body.  You could smell the ocean on him as well as something else, something metallic that made goosebumps break out on your skin.  “You know what I think little starfish?”

“Wh-what?”  You began to back up again but Mary matched you step by step until your back hit the wall.  “Please, I-I won’t tell anyone I saw you.”

“I think that no one knows you're out here.  Hmm?  I think you maybe ventured a little too far from your daddy’s protection.”  Mary leaned in close and took a deep breath, a deep groan leaving them when they exhaled.  “Has anyone ever told you how delicious you smell?”

WIP Tag Game

[quietwingsinthesky]

Sending hugs always!

Duende - Unusual power to attract or charm. Samwena!

Please and thank you!

prefacing this with the fact that i am so enamored with the concept of stanford era!sam/rowena. he deserves to get a little corrupted by her <3 anyway, I hope this is a fun read :)

There’s a baby hunter on her trail.

Of course she knows from the moment he picks up her scent. Hunters aren’t subtle men. She wonders if he ever figured out that she wasn’t there to talk to him on the edges of crime scenes purely by curious coincidence. She’s sure his suspicious hackles got raised, if not the second or third time, than the fourth, when Rowena got there before he did (and about three hours after she’d left the place to begin with, an unpaid debt reclaimed in a bloody but spectacular fashion.)

It’s not like she was trying very hard to hide. Rowena wants badly to be found by this one. She can’t resist overly baiting the trap.

When Sam follows her home, gun-toting and full of righteous anger, she’s ready for him. She’s well-dressed for the occasion, after noting exactly where his eyes lingered during their hushed chats speculating about the nature of the crimes he wouldn’t let slip he thought were more unnatural than they seemed and she teased with details only she could know about from committing them. When Sam sees her, his eyes dip first to the deep cut of her dress, and after a few seconds where his lips part and the tips of his ears go pink, he points his gun right there, aiming for her heart.

“Samuel,” she says. Part of her can’t help preening with pride for how easily he found her, even if she was helping. She’d thought it might take another week at least, but he’s gone beyond all expectation. “Why don’t you sit next to me?” She pats the empty space on the couch beside her, which, while enough to fit him, won’t give him any space to himself, just how she wants him. She drags her eyes over him approvingly. Why shouldn’t she have such easy access to him?

Sam doesn’t budge. Stubborn boy that he is. He is incandescent with rage that won’t do him a lick of good should Rowena simply wave her hand. A knife brought to a gun fight is still more effective than a gun to a witch fight.

“I’m going to stop you before you hurt anyone else,” Sam says. There’s the hunter in him, bullheaded to the end. Rowena feels her mouth pinch, her eyes narrow, and the most satisfying thing in the world is seeing Sam’s expression twitch, like her disapproval means something to him and he doesn’t want to let it show.

“I’m already finished. Be a dear, and put the gun down.” Sam ignores her request. She expected nothing else. She smiles. “Come tell me about these visions you’ve been having.” Sam stiffens from head to toe.

“I don’t have-” Rowena places a finger against her lips, and Sam goes quiet. No magic required, just a little suggestion.

“You wouldn’t have lived past my threshold if I didn’t find you fascinating, Sam Winchester,” she tells him. “Now, come sit. Tell me everything. Or are you really going to turn down an experienced witch helping you understand what you see? Are you willing to bet lives on it?” Sam swallows. She’s caught him, and her reward is going to be the sweetest thing she’s ever tasted. Once she softens him up a little, that is.

Sam shuffles forward, gun lowering. When he sits beside her, she gives him one more appreciative look-over.

Oh, she just has to keep him.

“Good boy,” she says. “Now, your visions.”

[eriquin]

The Trolley Problem, part 39

Steve's back at school just long enough to tell Carol and Tommy what's going on. Carol has some ideas. Tommy has some snark.

(master post)

Steve had to sign in late, but he got a pass to his next class without much trouble. Tommy was there, and surprised to see him. He looked better, if still a little singed, with bandages on his hands and patches missing from his eyebrows. He leaned over and asked him what had brought him back to school, but Steve waved him off, saying that they would talk about it later. 

During lunch, Tommy and Carol joined him in his car. He told them about Wayne showing up at his house, though he left out the part about the shotgun. The important parts were that Eddie was alive and in the Upside Down version of his trailer, and El was hiding in Hopper’s cabin.

“We’re going to bring her to the Munson’s trailer tonight to see if she can find Eddie,” he said. “I still don’t know what to tell my parents, though. Hopper’s probably going to send a cop to my house, and even if he doesn’t, they’re going to see the big burned spot on the lawn and ground me.” He sighed. “Maybe I just won’t go home.”

“Steve,” Carol said, staring at him. “You can’t just not go home.”

Steve shrugged. “Pretty sure I could,” he said. “I could stay at Hopper’s cabin with El. Or maybe at the Munson’s trailer, talking to Eddie. We could plan how to get him out of the Upside Down.”

Tommy sighed. “Right, ‘cause that’s not gonna look suspicious,” he said. “People are already freaked out enough as it is.”

Carol nodded. “Yeah, like, all anyone can talk about is how Heather and Kurt are missing. Barb’s in the hospital, Nancy tried to talk to Robin about it and she freaked out and ran away.” She held her hands out at Steve like he could explain anything. “Like, she’s really not handling this well.”

“Nancy or Robin?”

“Either!” Carol shouted. “Are you going to tell Nancy anything?”

Steve thought about it for a moment. “No,” he said. “It’s better for her if she doesn’t get involved. Barb might be in the hospital, but she’s alive. Nancy’s life can go back to normal.” He picked at his sandwich. “Anyway, what about Robin? How’s she handling things?”

“Bad,” said Tommy. “Jonathan knows how to lay low, at least. Robin’s right in the middle of everything.”

Carol nodded along. “And, oh my God, Tammy is being a total bitch about it, too. She was saying that Robin must’ve done something to Heather.”

“What the fuck?” Steve looked out the window, but no one else was around. “That’s stupid, though. I should go find her.”

“Later,” Tommy said. “We’ll all go find her later. For now, we need to figure out what we’re doing. I heard that the cops were searching the woods for Heather and Kurt. That’s probably near your house, too.”

“Shit, I hope they didn’t see me and El leave with Wayne,” Steve said. “I didn’t think I saw anyone out there, but I don’t know...” He rubbed his hand over his face and looked at Tommy. “Can I just come hang out at yours after school? At least until it’s time to bring El over to look for Eddie.” 

“Are we all going there?” Tommy asked. “I kind of want to see her doing her powers thing again. It was kind of cool.” 

Carol rolled her eyes. “We can’t go to the trailer park, Tommy. People can’t see us there. It’s bad enough that Steve’s going.” She leaned over the front seats to steal some of Tommy’s chips. “Anyway, I had an idea about getting to the gate.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve asked. “What was it?”

“Okay, like, just to clarify, we need to get through the gate that El already opened, right? If we’re going to rescue Eddie?” Carol asked. Steve nodded. “So what if, like, we drugged my dad and took his uniform and keycard?” 

“What, really?” Tommy turned the idea over in his head. “Like, one of us dressed up as your dad? You think that’d work?” 

“How would we even drug him?” Steve asked.

“I’ll bet one of your little genius kids knows how,” Carol said. “Or maybe we could get at Eddie’s stash. I’m pretty sure he has percs or special K.” 

Steve frowned. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m really not great at planning stuff like that.”

“Well, we’ll call it a backup plan,” Carol said. “Oh, those kids know not to go to your house after school, right? Especially if El’s not going to be there?”

Steve covered his mouth with his hand. “No, they won’t,” he said. “How are we going to tell them?”

“It’s fine,” Tommy said. “We have to wait after school to get those pictures from Johnny, right? We’ll just go pick them up from the middle school.” He snapped his fingers. “See? No problem.”

“Weren’t we going to go to the football game tonight?” Carol asked. “Should I assume we’re skipping that?” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “Hawkins loses, anyway,” he said. He was done with his sandwich, and he crumpled up the wrapper and tossed it on the floor.

“Dude,” Tommy said. “Since when do you toss around trash in your beamer?” 

Steve shrugged. “Since now, I guess. I’m gonna go try to find Robin and see how she’s doing. Maybe piss Tammy off a little while I’m at it.” He patted Tommy’s cheek and stole some of his chips on his way out.

Tagging: @neonfruitbowl