#if i’m done with proof reading and editing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-winter-spider · 4 months ago

Text

All lights turned off, Can be turned on | Steve Harrington

Word Count: 17.3k,

Warnings: Angst, depression, su!cide mentioned

A/N: Found this in my docs as well, Not edited or proof read.

----

You and Steve used to tell each other everything.

You don’t remember when that stopped.

It wasn’t all at once, not like a car crash, not like the kind of thing that left broken glass and skid marks and screaming in its wake. No, it was slower than that. Something you barely noticed at first. Like a leak under the sink, dripping water into the dark, rotting the foundation of everything before you ever thought to check.

And now, here you are. Sitting in the passenger seat of Steve Harrington’s car, pretending everything is fine.

The heater is on, but you’re still shivering. The leather seat sticks to the back of your legs, and the silence between you sticks even worse.

You’re not sure why you said yes when he called you. Maybe it was easier than ignoring him again. Maybe it was the way he said your name, soft and careful, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he wasn’t gentle enough. Like you hadn’t already been disappearing for months.

Maybe you just missed him.

The worst part is, Steve hasn’t changed. Not really. He still drives too fast but somehow never gets caught. He still chews on the inside of his cheek when he’s thinking too hard. He still glances at you out of the corner of his eye like he’s waiting for you to say something first.

And you still don’t.

You don’t know how to explain what’s wrong. Not in a way that doesn’t sound pathetic, not in a way that doesn’t make you feel like an open wound with no skin to protect you.

How do you say, I feel like a ghost in my own body?

How do you say, Everything is heavy, even breathing?

How do you say, I miss you so much it makes me sick…when he’s right there?

Steve taps his fingers against the steering wheel. You recognize the rhythm some song he used to blast on summer nights, windows down, both of you singing at the top of your lungs. But now, he doesn’t turn on the radio. He just keeps driving, waiting.

“Robin said your voicemail is full.” His voice is soft, careful.

You don’t look at him. “That’s nice.”

“She’s worried about you.”

You bite the inside of your cheek until it hurts. You want to say she doesn’t need to be, but that would be a lie, and Steve always knows when you’re lying.

He exhales through his nose, tightening his grip on the wheel. “I’m worried about you..”

You say nothing.

Steve makes a sound, half a scoff, half a sigh. “Jesus, will you just…say something?”

You swallow. Your throat feels tight. “What do you want me to say, Steve?”

“I don’t know,” he mutters. “That you’re okay? That you’re not—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head like he’s trying to get the thought out before it can settle. “I don’t know. Something. Anything.” He pleaded

There’s something in his voice that cracks you open a little. It’s not frustration, not really. It’s fear. You hate that. You hate that he’s scared for you, hate that you’ve done this to him.

You press your forehead against the window, watching the streetlights blur past. “I’m fine.”

Steve laughs, but it’s not a happy sound. “Right. Fine.” He shakes his head. “You really expect me to believe that?”

You don’t answer.

Because no, of course you don’t. Steve might be a lot of things, annoying, stubborn, entirely too attractive for his own good but he’s not stupid no matter how much he thinks he is.

The car slows to a stop at an intersection, red light bleeding into the windshield. Steve turns his head, looking at you. You can feel his gaze like a weight on your skin.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “Look at me.”

You don’t.

He doesn’t let up. “C’mon. Just..look at me, please.”

You do and the moment your eyes meet his, your throat feels even tighter.

Because Steve is looking at you like you’re breaking. Like you’re something fragile, something precious. Like he doesn’t know how to fix you, but he wants to. Desperately.

It makes you want to cry. It makes you want to scream. It makes you want to grab his stupid, perfect face and kiss him because maybe if he knew how much you love him, maybe if he really knew, it would explain all of this. Maybe then he’d understand why it’s been so hard to breathe without him.

But you don’t.

Because Steve has a life, a future, a heart big enough to love the whole damn world, and he deserves better than someone who can barely get out of bed in the morning.

Instead, you force a smile. “I’m fine, Steve.”

He stares at you. Then his jaw tightens, and he turns back to the road. The light turns green.

He doesn’t say another word and neither do you.

You and Steve used to tell each other everything.

That’s what makes this worse.

Because if this were anyone else, you could pretend. You could fake a smile, change the subject, tell them you’ve just been busy, sorry I haven’t called, work’s been crazy, you know how it is. But Steve knows better. Steve remembers.

He remembers what your voice sounds like at 2 AM when you can’t sleep.

He remembers the way you bite your lip when you’re about to cry but don’t want anyone to notice.

He remembers the day your mom packed up and left, shoved a stack of cash in your hand like that would make up for anything, kissed you on the forehead, and walked out the door.

He remembers that you didn’t cry then, either.

Maybe that’s why he looks at you like this now, like he’s waiting for the dam to break, like he wants you to break, just a little, just enough to let him help.

But you don’t.

Because if you let one thing slip, it’s all going to come pouring out, and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to shove it back inside again.

So instead, you sit there in his car, staring out the windshield like you can will yourself invisible. The heater hums, blowing warm air against your cold fingers, but you still feel frozen.

Steve’s gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles have gone white.

“She called me,” he says, voice low, tight.

You blink. “…Who?”

Steve’s jaw clenches. “Your mom.”

Your stomach drops.

Of course she did.

Not because she cares. Not because she suddenly woke up in her new life and thought, God, I miss my kid, I should check in. No, she called because the bank probably told her your rent was due soon, and she needed to make sure you hadn’t run off and died somewhere before she sent the next check.

You don’t say that out loud. You don’t say anything at all.

Steve exhales sharply through his nose. “She said you’re not picking up.”

“So?”

“So, she’s worried about you.”

You let out a laugh, sharp and bitter. “No, she’s not.”

Steve flinches. Just a little. Just enough for you to catch it.

You shake your head, turning away, pressing your fingers against the cold glass of the window. Your breath fogs up the surface, blurring the outside world into a smear of streetlights and passing cars.

“She doesn’t care, Steve,” you say, voice quieter now. “She just wants to make sure I’m still alive so she doesn’t have to feel guilty when she pays my rent.”

Silence.

“That’s bullshit.”

You glance at him. “What?”

Steve turns in his seat to face you fully. “That’s bullshit,” he repeats, firmer now. His eyes are dark, shining with something you don’t quite understand. “You think she doesn’t care? Fine. But I do.”

Your throat tightens.

Steve swallows, running a hand through his hair. “I care. Robin cares. Dustin cares. Hell, Eddie would probably kick your ass if he knew you were pulling this disappearing act.”

A weak attempt at a joke, but his voice cracks at the end, and that’s what makes your chest ache. Not the words. The way he sounds.

Like he’s scared.

Like he’s losing you.

You should say something. You should tell him he’s not. But your ribs feel like they’re caving in, pressing against your lungs until you can barely breathe, and the words won’t come.

Steve shakes his head. “Look, I get it, okay? I get it.” His voice softens, his fingers flexing against his knee. “Some days, it’s easier to just… not. Not answer the phone, not get out of bed, not deal with anything.”

You don’t ask how he knows that.

You don’t ask what his bad days look like, or how often they happen, or if he ever sits alone in his car after work, gripping the steering wheel and trying to find a reason to go home.

You don’t ask, because if you do, then this whole conversation is going to turn into something real, and you don’t know if you’re ready for that.

So you do what you always do. You deflect. “I didn’t ask you to come here,” you murmur.

Steve scoffs, shaking his head. “Yeah. You never do.”

It’s the same thing he said last time. The same bitter truth, thrown in your face like a reminder that you have done nothing but push him away for months and he’s still here, and you have no idea why.

You open your mouth, then close it.

Because what are you supposed to say to that? Sorry? It wouldn’t mean anything. Thank you? That would just make it worse.

Steve studies your face, eyes scanning every inch of you like he’s memorizing it, like he’s trying to understand something you’re not giving him.

Then, he sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “You should get inside.”

It’s not a command. Not a demand. Just… a suggestion. A tired, quiet plea.

You hesitate.

Because stepping out of this car means going back to the same four walls, the same shitty apartment that isn’t really yours, the same bed where you lie awake at night staring at the ceiling, wondering if you’re ever going to feel like a real person again.

But if you stay, you’ll have to deal with Steve looking at you like this and that might be worse.

So you reach for the door handle, pressing your fingers against the cold metal. “Yeah. Okay.”

Steve doesn’t say anything as you step out.

He doesn’t say anything as you shut the door behind you, as you walk up the steps to your building, as you fumble for your keys with shaking hands and you don’t look back.

Because if you do, you might see him still sitting there, waiting for something you’ll never give him.

---

Steve Harrington isn’t a fixer.

Not really. Not in the way Robin is, where she tries to talk things through, tries to logic her way into making things better. Not in the way Dustin is, where he gets all loud and determined, like if he just explains enough, the universe will bend to his will.

Steve’s not like that. Never has been. But when someone he loves is hurting? He wants to fix it and he can’t.

Which is how he ends up here, slumped in the break room at Family Video, head in his hands, while Robin leans against the table with her arms crossed, looking at him like she’s not sure whether to shake him or hug him.

“She won’t talk to me,” Steve mutters, rubbing a hand over his face. “I mean, I knew something was wrong, obviously. But last night—” He cuts himself off, exhaling sharply. “I don’t know, man. It was like she wasn’t even there.”

Robin doesn’t say anything right away. Just drums her fingers against her elbow, chewing on the inside of her cheek like she’s trying to figure out the right words.

Finally, she sighs. “Yeah.”

Steve blinks. “Yeah?”

Robin shrugs, looking away. “She won’t talk to me either.”

That makes his stomach drop.

Because Robin is…Robin. She’s the one people go to when they don’t want to talk to him. She’s the one who sees all the things he misses, the one who knows how to poke and prod until someone has to say something and if even she isn’t getting through?

Steve leans back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. “Shit.”

Robin makes a noise in agreement, grabbing an old receipt off the table and crumpling it in her hands. “I tried stopping by the other day,” she admits. “Knocked on the door for, like, five minutes. Nothing. I thought about climbing through the window, but, y’know, didn’t want to get arrested for breaking and entering.”

Steve snorts. “Pretty sure they wouldn’t arrest you. You’d just get yelled at for falling and breaking your arm.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. My point is, she’s not just ignoring you. She’s—” She hesitates, waving her hand in the air. “Avoiding.”

Steve nods. “Yeah.”

It shouldn’t make him feel better, knowing it’s not just him. But it kind of does. Because it means he didn’t do something wrong. It means it’s not personal.

It just means… you’re hurting, really hurting and Steve has no idea what the hell he’s supposed to do about it.

Robin sighs again, running a hand through her hair. “Do you think she—” She stops, frowning, like she’s not sure if she wants to say it out loud.

Steve sits up. “What?”

Robin hesitates. Then, quietly “Do you think she even wants help?”

The question settles in the air between them like smoke. Steve doesn’t know how to answer. Because of course you do. Right? Nobody actually wants to feel like this. Nobody actually wants to be alone in their shitty apartment, shutting the world out until all that’s left is the sound of their own breathing.

But you’re not trying either. You’re not reaching out, you’re not answering calls, you’re not doing anything to pull yourself out of it. So maybe… maybe Robin has a point.

Steve exhales, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I mean, she doesn’t…ask for anything. Ever. Even before all this. Even when her mom—” He cuts himself off, jaw clenching. “I don’t think she even knows how to let people help her.”

Robin makes a frustrated noise, throwing the crumpled-up receipt at the wall. “Okay, well, that’s stupid.”

Steve lets out a humorless laugh. “Yeah.”

Robin presses her lips together, thoughtful. “We should do something.”

Steve lifts his head. “Like what?”

Robin shrugs. “I don’t know. Force her to hang out with us? Show up at her place and refuse to leave until she talks?”

Steve considers that for a second. It’s not a bad idea, necessarily. But the last time he showed up uninvited, she barely even looked at him. She just stood there, gripping the edge of the window like she wanted to slam it shut but didn’t have the energy.

He sighs. “I don’t think she wants us there.”

Robin groans, flopping dramatically against the table. “Okay, well, what does she want?”

Steve doesn’t answer. Because if he knew that, he wouldn’t feel like this. Wouldn’t feel like he’s standing outside a locked door, banging his fists against it, waiting for her to open it just a little.

Wouldn’t feel so goddamn helpless. Robin sits up, narrowing her eyes at him. “You love her.”

Steve freezes. His heartbeat stutters, then picks up, hammering against his ribs like it’s trying to escape. “I—”

Robin raises a hand. “And before you start with the ‘what, no, shut up, Robin’ thing, dude, come on.”

Steve stares at the table. His hands curl into fists in his lap. “It’s not like that.”

Robin snorts. “Bullshit.”

He clenches his jaw. “It doesn’t matter.”

Robin’s expression softens. “Steve.”

He shakes his head. “It doesn’t.” His voice is flat. “She’s dealing with enough already. The last thing she needs is—” He gestures vaguely at himself. “—this.”

Robin sighs, tapping her fingers against the table. “You know, sometimes I forget you used to be an actual dumbass in high school. But then you say shit like that, and it all comes rushing back.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Thanks.”

Robin ignores him. “Listen, I don’t know what the right thing to do is, okay? I don’t know if we’re supposed to wait for her to come to us, or if we’re supposed to force her to let us in, or if we’re just supposed to—” She waves her hands around. “I don’t know. But what I do know is that you giving up? Not an option.”

Steve lets out a slow breath. Because she’s right. Of course she is.

Robin stands, grabbing her coat. “C’mon. We’re taking a break.”

Steve frowns. “A break from what?”

Robin shrugs. “I don’t know. Thinking. Worrying. Feeling like shit. Take your pick.” She nods toward the door. “Let’s go.”

Steve hesitates. Because it feels wrong. Feels like walking away, like leaving something unfinished. Like giving up.

But Robin’s already halfway out the door, and he knows she won’t take no for an answer, so he follows.

---

You don’t remember when it started.

Not exactly.

You used to. You used to be able to point to a day, an hour, a moment, like that’s when it happened, that’s when things shifted. Like you could pinpoint the exact second something cracked inside you, like there was ever just one reason.

But the truth is, it wasn’t a moment. It was slow, like falling asleep.

One minute, you were fine. Maybe not happy, maybe not okay in the way other people seemed to be, but you were moving, at least. Breathing, laughing, living and then…then, one day, you woke up, and everything was heavy and it hasn’t stopped being heavy since.

You try to remember the last time you didn’t feel like this. Try to think back to a version of yourself that wasn’t always tired, that didn’t feel like they were made of lead and regret.

But it’s all so blurry. The last few years, hell, maybe the last decade just bleeding together. Like your brain pressed a thumb against the edges of your memories and smeared them into nothing.

You remember childhood. You remember Hawkins before everything went to hell. Long summers, scraped knees, riding bikes through the woods like you were invincible. Before you knew the things that lived underneath. Before you knew what it meant to lose.

You remember Steve. Always Steve.

You remember growing up with him, watching him turn from the loud-mouthed, cocky kid next door into this. The Steve who worries too much. The Steve who never lets people see that he worries too much. The Steve who never lets anyone go, even when they try to slip through his fingers.

You don’t remember when you started slipping. You don’t remember when you stopped wanting to be around anyone but him.

It wasn’t a choice, not really. It just…happened. One day, the thought of being around people became exhausting. One day, the idea of leaving your apartment, of talking, of pretending you were still the same person who cracked jokes with Robin and argued with Dustin and letting Lucus play horrible music in your car, One day, it all just felt like too much. But Steve never did. Steve was the only thing that still felt safe and maybe that’s why you hate this so much. Because if he’s starting to feel heavy too, if being around him hurts now, if even Steve is slipping away….then what’s left?

The sun has barely started setting when the knock comes. You already know who it is.

Steve knocks like he means it. Like if he just knocks loud enough, long enough, you have to answer. You don’t move.

You stare at the wall, curled up in a blanket that doesn’t feel warm enough, willing him to go away.

Another knock. “Come on,” his voice filters through the door, muffled. “I know you’re in there.”

You squeeze your eyes shut.

He sighs. You hear the rustling of fabric, the shift of weight as he leans against the door. He’s not going anywhere. He never does.

There’s a long pause. Then, quieter. “You don’t have to talk. I just… I don’t wanna leave you alone.”

You swallow, pressing your face into the fabric of your sleeve.

Because you should want that. You should want him here, should want someone here, should want anything other than this emptiness sitting in your chest like an open grave.

But you don’t know how to reach for him. You don’t know how to say stay. So you just don’t.

You just stay there, curled up in your blanket, waiting for him to give up. Eventually, he does.

You listen to the sound of him exhaling, of his footsteps fading away, of the silence settling in again.

You tell yourself this is what you want, but then why do you feel worse?

---

The voicemail is waiting when you wake up.

You don’t check it at first. Just roll onto your side, staring at the dust collecting on your nightstand, willing yourself to go back to sleep even though you know it won’t happen.

Then another one comes in and another. You don’t have to listen to know who they’re from.

You’ve ignored enough of Steve’s calls to recognize the sound of him trying anyway. You cleared your voicemail box a few days ago, more out of boredom than anything…so now he and Robin have free reign to leave you messages that you won’t listen to.

Except, you do eventually.

Robin’s comes first.

“Hey, loser. It’s my birthday, and you’re supposed to be here. You better not be pulling that ‘oh, I forgot’ bullshit, because I know you didn’t. I told you like, twenty times. Anyway, I miss you. And not in the sad, dramatic way you probably think…just in the normal, regular way. So… come over, okay?”A pause. “Please.”

Then Steve’s, his voice is softer. Tired.

“I don’t know if you’re even checking these, but… it’s Robin’s birthday. She wants you here. I want you here. You don’t have to stay long. You don’t have to talk. Just… come, okay? It’s at my place.”

You sit with that for a while. Roll it over in your head.

Think about how much easier it would be to ignore them. Think about how nice it would be to just sink further into this, this in-between state, where you don’t have to deal with anything, don’t have to pretend.

But then you think about Robin waiting for you and Steve. And how bad it will be if you don’t go. If they start knocking on your door again, if they start pushing even harder, if you finally push them away the same way you have with everything else and you don’t want that.

Not really. So you go. Late, though. Hours past the time Robin said to come. If you show up late enough, most people will already be gone. If you time it right, you can show your face, hand over the gift, and leave before anyone really sees you.

One foot in, one foot out, always.

Steve’s house is lit up when you get there. The driveway is mostly empty, but you can still hear laughter from the backyard, Robin’s unmistakable cackle, Dustin’s high-pitched wheeze, the sound of clinking bottles and the buzz of conversation. You hesitate at the curb, shifting the weight of the gift bag in your hands.

A few records. Some Robin has been talking about for months, saying she’s too broke to afford. You bought it weeks ago, back when you were still trying to convince yourself you were going to get better, when you thought maybe you’d show up and hand it to her with a smile and everything would feel normal again.

But nothing feels normal anymore. You make it to the porch. Stand in front of the door. Your fingers twitch toward the handle, but you don’t move. The laughter from the backyard drifts through the air. They all sound happy. You should turn around. You should leave before anyone notices before you dull their happiness.

The side gate opens, you don't notice, too busy in your own head and Steve steps out, holding a trash bag in one hand, looking half-exasperated, half-something else. But the moment he sees you…really sees you, he freezes.

He doesn’t say anything right away. Just watches you, watches the way you stand there, stiff and uncertain, your arm twitching like you’re about to knock, then dropping back down. Watches the way your grip tightens around the gift bag, how you shift from foot to foot like you’re debating running.

Ten minutes.

He realizes, suddenly, that he's just being watching you for 10 minutes, and you’ve just been standing there in your own world.

He swallows. “Hey. You came.”

You don’t jump. Don’t flinch. You just look at him, expression unreadable. “Yeah,” you say after a moment. “I… I bought her this a while ago. She deserves to have it.”

Steve’s chest tightens. Because fuck, you sound, you sound tired. Not just physically, not like you didn’t get enough sleep, but the kind of tired that sits inside you. The kind of tired he doesn’t know how to fix.

He clears his throat. “Come on,” he says, nodding toward the backyard. “We’re all back here.”

You hesitate and Steve knows, knows, that this is it. That you’re going to back out, that you’re going to make some excuse, that you’re going to disappear again.

“Please.” It comes out quiet. Not demanding. Not pushing. Almost desperate, you nod. Steve lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, stepping aside so you can follow.

As you walk behind him, he risks a glance back and that’s when he notices it.

The weight loss. The way your clothes hang just a little looser than they used to. The way your shoulders curve inward, like you’re trying to make yourself smaller, like you’re bracing for something. But more than that, your eyes. He’s seen you tired before. Seen you scared. Seen you cry. But he’s never seen you like this.

It makes something sharp twist in his chest, something angry, not at you, never at you, but at the way things got this bad without him noticing. Right before you step into the backyard, he watches it happen.

The shift.

Your back straightens, your shoulders roll back, and suddenly, it’s like you’re on. Like you’ve flipped a switch, turned into some version of yourself that’s passable enough to make it through the night.

Steve clenches his jaw. Because he knows you and this, this isn’t you.

Robin looks up from her spot at the table, eyes widening when she sees you. “Holy shit.”

And you, you smile.

But Steve doesn’t. Because now that he’s seen the difference, now that he’s really looking,he doesn’t think he can pretend anymore, either.

The backyard feels too big.

Too open, too bright, even with the sun dipping below the trees. The string lights Steve put up years ago glow softly, casting everything in a warm, golden haze. People are spread out in clusters Dustin and Mike playfully shoving each other near the fire pit, Max sitting with Lucus on the porch swing and a few other people you don’t know, don’t recognize.

It should feel familiar. These are your friends. Your people. But instead, you feel like a stranger in your own skin.

You hover near the back, close enough to look like you’re part of it, far enough to not actually be part of it. The laughter and voices blend together into something distant, something that doesn’t quite reach you.

“I’ll get you a drink, pop?” He asks quietly, you just nod.

Steve moves through the small crowd easily, the way he always has. It’s different now, he’s not King Steve anymore, hasn’t been for a long time but he still has this way of fitting, like he belongs and for a long time, you thought you did too.

But now, standing here, watching everyone from a few feet away, you wonder if you ever really did, or if you just convinced yourself you did because you were always next to him.

Across the yard, Nancy is watching.

Not in an obvious way, but you can feel it. The occasional glances, the way her brow furrows slightly when she looks at you. She’s never been one to miss details. You know she’s going to say something before she even moves.

Nancy finds Steve in the kitchen.

He’s leaning against the counter, half-distracted, sipping a beer. There’s already a pile of empty bottles in the sink, a testament to the night slowly winding down.

“Hey,” she says, stepping beside him.

Steve glances at her. “Hey.”

Nancy tilts her head toward the back door. “So… what’s going on?”

Steve frowns. “What do you mean?”

Nancy sighs. “You know what I mean.”

She crosses her arms, leaning against the counter beside him. “She looks… bad, Steve.”

Steve stiffens. “Nance…”

“I mean it.” She gives him a pointed look. “She's barely spoken to anyone at all lately, She looks like she hasn’t been sleeping and I saw the way she was standing by the gate when you let her in like she was debating leaving.”

Steve exhales sharply, setting his drink down. “Yeah. I know.”

Nancy watches him. “How long has this been going on?”

Steve rubs a hand over his face. “A while.”

Nancy doesn’t say why didn’t you tell me? but Steve hears it anyway.

It’s not that he didn’t want to. He just didn’t know how. How do you explain something that isn’t one thing? How do you explain the slow, sinking feeling of watching someone you love slip further away, even when they’re standing right in front of you?

“I don’t know what to do,” Steve admits quietly. “I keep trying, and she just—” He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

Nancy presses her lips together, thinking. “She came, though.”

“Yeah.”

“And that’s something.”

Steve exhales. “I guess.”

Nancy nudges him gently. “She wouldn’t have come if she didn’t want to.”

Steve isn’t sure if that’s true. But he wants it to be.

Robin is sitting cross-legged on the grass, surrounded by wrapping paper and a growing pile of gifts.

You hover nearby, fingers curling around the handle of the gift bag, heart hammering against your ribs. This shouldn’t feel so big. It’s just a gift. Just a stupid birthday present.

But somehow, it does. You don’t remember the last time you gave someone a gift.

Not like this. Not something you put thought into, something you picked out because you knew they’d love it.

Your stomach twists. Maybe she won’t. Maybe this is stupid. Maybe you shouldn’t have come.

Steves suddenly beside you, handing you your drink and he nudges your arm. It’s light, barely there, but you feel it. The reminder. The push.

So you step forward. Clear your throat. Robin looks up.

Her eyes widen slightly, like she’s still surprised you’re here.

You swallow. Hold out the bag. “Uh. This is for you.”

Robin blinks. Then, without hesitation, she grabs it.

Rips the tissue paper apart and she freezes. Her mouth falls open.

For a long moment, she just stares down at the records in her lap, like she doesn’t quite believe they’re real. Then she looks back at you, eyes wide.

“Holy shit.”

You shift your weight. “You, uh. You kept talking about them.” You gesture vaguely. “Figured you should have them.”

Robin’s fingers skim the covers, tracing the edges like they might disappear if she blinks. “This must’ve cost you a lot of money.” She looks up, shaking her head. “I can’t take these.”

You shake your head too, quickly, heart lurching. “Yes, you can.”

Robin’s expression softens. She studies you for a second, then nods. “Okay.” Then, quieter. “Thank you.”

And then she stands before you can stop her and she hugs you.

It’s quick, nothing dramatic, but it shocks you. You go stiff immediately, muscles locking up, breath caught in your throat.

Because fuck, you don’t remember the last time someone hugged you.

Not a casual pat on the back. Not an arm slung over your shoulder. A hug. A real, genuine, someone-wants-you-here hug.

For a second, you don’t move but slowly, hesitantly, you hug her back and it takes everything in you not to break completely.

Your throat clenches. Your arms shake. There’s something dangerously tight in your chest, something heavy behind your ribs, something overwhelming.

Steve sees it. No one else does, but he does.

The way you freeze. The way you hesitate before melting into it, before gripping Robin’s shirt just a little too tight, before squeezing your eyes shut like you might actually cry.

Robin pulls back, grinning at you. “I love them. I love you.”

You force a small smile. “Glad you like them.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “I don’t like them. I love them.”

Her voice is light, teasing.

But Steve watches the way your fingers twitch. The way you don’t respond to that. The way you glance toward the door, just for a second like you’re still half-thinking about running because you are and when everyone is busy with cake, you do.

---

Two weeks.

Two weeks since Robin’s party. Two weeks since you stepped back into them, into all of it and in those two weeks, you’ve successfully avoided everyone.

No calls. No visits. No late-night knocks on your door.

Nothing.

You should feel relieved. Should feel better. This is what you wanted, right? To be left alone?

But instead, all you feel is nothing. Like something inside you has been scraped out and hollowed, leaving you with only the dull, aching weight of emptiness.

Your apartment feels suffocating, the silence pressing in too tight. Sleep doesn’t come easy, when it does, it’s restless, fractured, full of static and half-remembered voices.

So, you get up and you walk. It’s almost midnight when you end up at the liquor store.

It’s the kind of place that doesn’t ask questions, the kind that stays open too late and doesn’t care much about who walks through the doors.

The guy at the counter barely looks at you. He takes your fake ID, glances at the picture, looks back at you, then shrugs and slides it back across the counter.

A minute later, a small brown paper bag is in your hand. You don’t know why you’re doing this. You just want to feel something.

---

Steve’s driving.

Robin is in the passenger seat, her feet up on the dashboard, flipping through a mixtape case. They’re coming back from a long shift at Family Video, Steve is exhausted, Robin is rambling about something, and everything is normal.

Then her voice high pitched, “Holy shit. Is that Y/N?”

Steve’s stomach drops. Before he can even think, his foot slams the brake. The car jerks forward, tires screeching, and Robin yelps, grabbing the dashboard.

“Jesus, Steve, warn me next time!”

But Steve doesn’t hear her. His grip tightens around the steering wheel, eyes locked on the sidewalk.

On you. You’re standing under a flickering streetlight, paper bag in hand, bottle tilted toward your lips.

There’s something about that, about seeing you, alone in the middle of the night, drinking like it’s the most natural thing in the world, makes his chest tighten with something sharp and wrong.

Robin breathes out a quiet, “Shit.”

Steve doesn’t think. He just throws the car into park, leaves the keys in the ignition, and gets out. Robin calls after him, but he doesn’t stop, how can hr when you’re right there.

You still don’t see him.

You just keep walking, one slow step after another, like you’re sleepwalking, like the whole world has blurred around the edges and you’re moving through it without really being there.

“What are you doing?”

Your steps falter, you turn and when your eyes meet his, flat, unfocused, tired…Steve’s stomach clenches.

You look wrong. Not just exhausted, not just numb, but wrong in a way that makes his skin crawl, in a way that makes his heart slam against his ribs because this isn’t you.

He takes a step forward, eyes flicking down to the brown paper bag clutched in your hand. “What is this?”

You stare at him, flatly, hollowly you speak. “I’m thirsty.”

Something inside Steve snaps. His arms fly up, frustration spilling out. “Are you kidding me?!”

You blink at him. Like you don’t get it. Like you don’t understand why he’s angry, why his chest feels like it’s about to explode.

“You have people who care about you.” His voice cracks. “People who love you, who are willing to help you through this and you’re out here doing this? What the fuck are you doing?”

Silence.

“It's nothing Steve, just drop it.”

Steve shakes his head, voice raw. “You think this is nothing? You think this is just your life to throw away? After everything we’ve been through? After everyone we’ve lost?”

You flinch.

But he doesn’t stop.

“Do you think Barb wanted to die? Do you think Billy wanted to? What about fucking Hopper? Do you think any of them got a choice?” His voice rises, filled with something sharp and desperate, something clawing its way out of him. “And now you’re out here, drinking in the middle of the fucking street like none of it matters? Like you don’t matter?”

Your stomach twists. Because that, that is exactly how it feels.

Like you don’t matter. Like you’ve been waiting to disappear for so long that maybe this is just the next step.

You swallow down the lump in your throat. “I didn’t ask for a fucking lecture, Steve.”

“Well, you’re getting one.” He exhales sharply, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ, Y/N. You think you’re the only one who’s struggling? You think you’re the only one who has to wake up every day and pretend to be fine?”

You scoff. “Oh, yeah. Poor Steve Harrington. Must be so hard for you.”

Steve stares at you. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you don’t get it!”

Your voice rises, sharp and bitter, something ugly curling in your chest.

“You…” Your breath shudders. “You have people, Steve! You have everyone. You have Robin and Dustin, and all of them love you. You’ll never be alone!”

You shake your head, taking a step back, fingers tightening around the bag. “I don’t have anyone, Steve. Nobody stays. Nobody ever fucking stays, I’m not apart of a group, everyone has someone aside, the children all have each other, Nance has Jonathan, Robin has you, you and her! I don’t fucking have anyone! I never did because no one stays, my own Mother didn’t want to stay!” Your voice cracks.

Steve’s face twists, and for a second, something pained flashes through his expression. “I stayed.”

“Yeah?” You let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “For how long? Until I make things too fucking hard for you? Until you finally realize I’m not worth it?”

Steve’s chest aches. “That’s not…”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” You shake your head, eyes burning. “I see it in your face, Steve. You don’t know what to do with me anymore. You’re exhausted. You’re—” Your voice wobbles. “You’re gonna leave just like everyone else.”

“I’m not leaving you.”*

“Why not?!” The words explode out of you, raw and furious, and suddenly you’re pushing at his chest, shoving him back. “Why do you even fucking care?”

Steve grabs your wrists before you can shove him again, holding you there, his grip tight but steady. “Because I love you!”

Your breath catches. But it doesn’t change anything.

Because Steve can say that all he wants, but you know, you know, that it won’t last.

Love has never lasted for you.

So you rip your arms out of his grip, stepping back. “Well, I don’t fucking want it.”

The words hit him.

Hard.

You watch something in his face break, something deep, something that looks a little too much like hope dying.

And you, you don’t know how to stop, how to stop the self sabotage, how do stop the want, the need the urge to push him away even further now after the confession.

“Maybe that’s why I’m not around anymore,” you continue, words spilling out like poison. “Maybe I don’t want to be around you. Ever thought of that, Harrington? I don’t want any of it, I don’t want you!”

Steve flinches like you hit him.

Because maybe if you push hard enough, maybe if you make this ugly enough, he’ll finally give up on you.

He swallows hard, jaw clenched, chest rising and falling too fast.

Quietly, brokenly, his voice waivers. “Fuck you.”

It cuts through the air like a gunshot. You don’t breathe.

Steve shakes his head, jaw clenched, furious. “Fine. You wanna be alone so fucking bad? Fine.”

Your chest is heaving. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Leave me the fuck alone! Finally!” The words rip out of you, loud, shaking, cutting through the night like a blade.

Steve just stands there.

His face twists, and he swipes a shaking hand over it, exhaling sharply, like he’s trying to keep himself together.

But you see it. See the way his eyes go glassy, see the way his chest rises and falls too fast, too uneven.

He turns, gets back in his car, drives away and you, you stand there, watching the taillights disappear into the dark. As he watches you become small and smaller in his rearview mirror.

Robin is still in the passenger seat, staring at him, wide-eyed.

“Whoa.”

Steve grips the steering wheel, knuckles white.

He exhales, voice tight, wrecked. “I know, Robin. I know.”

---

Steve reels.

For days, he feels like he’s floating, like he’s moving through the motions of his life without actually being in it. He goes to work. He watches movies with Robin. He drives Dustin home from the arcade.

But his mind is stuck.

It keeps replaying your voice, the venom in it, the way you said maybe I don’t want to be around you, the way he told you he loves you and you acted like it was nothing, like it didn’t fucking matter and maybe it shouldn’t.

Maybe he should let it go. Move on. Forget. But that’s the thing about Steve. He doesn’t let go and he could never try and forget you.

The others keep trying, even when Steve stops, one by one, they try.

Robin knocks on your door again. Stands there for almost twenty minutes, knocking, knocking, knocking. No answer.

Nancy calls. Nothing.

Jonathan even swings by. Dustin and Lucas take turns dropping in. Even Will tries.

Nothing and then Max, Max says, Fuck this.

She stands in the parking lot of your apartment, hands on her hips, glaring up at your window like she can will you into existence.

Lucas frowns. “Uh… Max?”

“What are you doing?” Dustin asks.

She doesn’t answer.

Just rolls her shoulders, shakes out her arms, and nods toward the boys. “Lift me up.”

Lucas blinks. “What?”

“You heard me,” Max says. “You’re all freakishly tall. Get me to that balcony.”

Dustin sputters. “Are you insane? You’re gonna fall and die.”

Max gives him a look. “It’s the second floor, Dustin.”

Dustin and Lucas exchange a glance. Then, reluctantly they link their hands together, bending down slightly. Max steps up, balancing on their grip, and they push her up.

She grabs the railing. Hauls herself over. Lands with a soft thud on the balcony and then she turns toward your window.

It’s unlocked. Because of course it is.

Max sighs. “Jesus, dumbass.”

She pushes it open. Climbs inside, the apartment is dark. Quiet, too quiet.

“Y/N?”

No answer.

She steps forward, glancing around. Clothes on the floor. A half-empty glass on the counter. An unmade bed.

But no you.

Max frowns. Steps further in. Looks around the corner, into the bathroom, the closet.

“She’s not here.”

The boys freeze.

“What?” Dustin calls up.

Max peers over the balcony. “She’s not here.”

Lucas exhales. “Maybe she’s just…out?”

Dustin nods, a little too quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe she’s just out.”

Because it’s fine. It’s fine. Hawkins isn’t that big. Maybe you just needed air. Maybe you just needed space.

Yeah. Yeah, that’s probably it.

Dustin stops by Family Video a few days later.

Steve is behind the counter, barely paying attention, flipping through tapes.

Dustin walks in, leans against the counter, and says, “We broke in.”

Steve blinks. “What?”

“Well Max did,” Dustin repeats, like that means something.

Steve frowns. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Dustin sighs, dragging a hand through his curls. “She wasn’t answering the door. So we broke in. Well, Max broke in.”

Steve straightens. “What?”

“She wasn’t there.” Dustin stares at him. “We don’t know where she is.”

Steve clenches his jaw. His heart kicks up, just a little. But he forces his expression blank, shakes his head. “Maybe she’s just out, busy.”

Dustin scoffs. “Yeah, that’s what we said. But it’s been days.” He crosses his arms. “Don’t act like you don’t care.”

Something sharp flashes in Steve’s chest. “She made it pretty fucking clear she didn’t want me to care.”

Dustin stares at him, unimpressed. “You do care, though.”

Steve doesn’t say anything.

Dustin exhales, shaking his head. “We’re family, Steve and she’s going through it. She has every right to go through it, we all do.”

Then he turns and walks out, the bell above the door ringing behind him.

Steve just stands there, alone with his thoughts, his never ending thoughts of you.

---

You haven’t been home in days.

You don’t really know where you’ve been. Mostly your car, parked in empty lots or just outside the Welcome to Hawkins sign, watching the road stretch ahead of you and wondering if you should just go.

Not that you have anywhere to go. You could see your Mother, but she wouldn't welcome you, wouldn't want you there she didn't even want you here.

But the thought lingers anyway. Maybe if you just leave, if you just drive, you’ll feel something other than this.

But you never make it past the sign.

You just sit there, engine humming beneath your hands, watching the road blur under the heat of the sun or the glow of the streetlights. You tell yourself you’ll do it tomorrow or the next day.

But tomorrow comes, and you’re still here. When you finally step inside your apartment, it feels off. You notice it immediately.

The air feels shifted, like someone else has been here. The window is cracked open, the curtain shifting slightly in the breeze.

Your stomach clenches. For a split second, your heart hammers, your body reacting on pure instinct, memories of Starcourt, of things slipping through cracks in the walls, of knowing you weren’t alone even when you should have been.

You see the fingerprints on the dusty window, they're small and then you exhale. Because, of course, it was one of the kids.

You don’t even have to think about it. Max, probably, or Dustin, probably Max. You can see it in your head, the way they must have whispered outside your door, debating who would do it, who would be the one to climb up.

You should be mad. Should be annoyed, normally you would give them shit not for breaking in but for the fact they could’ve gotten hurt, Max would roll her eyes, Dustin would steal some chips. But you’re not, and you don’t, instead you just feel tired.

You press play on your voicemail without thinking.

The first one is from Robin.

“Okay, I don’t know if you’re dead or if you’re just ignoring me, but this is, like, the eighth time I’ve called, and it’s starting to get embarrassing, so, just pick up the phone, alright? Or don’t. Whatever. Just know I miss you, you asshole.”

Click.

The next one is from Nancy.

“Hey. It’s me. I just… wanted to check in. The kids said you weren’t home, and look, just call me, okay? We can talk, I can listen or we can just watch movies, whatever you want.”

Click.

You wait and that's it, nothing from Steve. Of course not. You tell yourself you don’t care because you told Steve you didn’t care. So you don’t. Because its easier to have no one and now you don’t

Then the last voicemail plays, a voice you don’t recognize, older…tired.

“Hello… I, uh. I don’t know if this number is still good, but… this is your aunt, Marlene, we’ve never met, probably never will, anyway I’m calling because—”

A pause, a sigh.

“It’s about your mother. There was an accident. She didn’t make it.”

Silence.

“I’m… I’m sorry for your loss.”

Click and that’s it.

That’s it.

No details. No information. No anything. Just a handful of words from a stranger and a deadline.

You just stand there.

Staring at the phone.

Staring at nothing.

Your mom is dead.

She’s dead.

And you should, what? Care? Be devastated? Something?

You don’t even know how to feel.

She left when you were eighteen. She walked away. You’ve spent years telling yourself she didn’t matter, that you didn’t need her, that you never had her to begin with, not really.

But now she’s gone.

Like, actually gone and the realization crashes into you all at once.

It’s not just about her. It’s not just about your so-called mom. It’s about the fact that she was the last thing connecting you to something else, to anything else.

Now there’s nobody.

Nobody but the people you keep pushing away.

Your breath stutters. Your vision blurs. Your hands tremble, then the dam breaks and you start to cry.

Not the kind of crying that sneaks up on you in the dark, not the kind that you can swallow back, shove down, ignore.

This is something else.

This is everything.

It’s every bad day, every quiet ache, every unspoken word, every time you wanted to scream but didn’t.

It’s Starcourt, it’s the Upside Down, it’s the people you lost, it’s the ones you almost lost, it’s the way you never let yourself grieve because there was never any time.

It’s Steve.

It’s the fight, the words you threw like knives, the way he looked at you, the way he walked away.

It’s all of it and now it’s pouring out of you.

You clutch your own arms, pressing your forehead against the wall, sobbing so hard it hurts and there’s no one here to see it.

No one here to stop it because you made damn sure of that.

---

The thing about loss is that it doesn’t come all at once, it comes in waves. It builds, slowly, creeping under your skin, sinking into the cracks of you, pressing against your ribs like it’s trying to make room and then it drowns you.

That’s what this feels like, you are drowning. Your mother is dead.

She is dead, and she was never a good mother, never really there, but she was something. She existed. She was a person in the world, breathing the same air as you, sharing the same blood as you, the same looks as you and now she’s gone, and it's just you.

You try to imagine her, try to remember the last time you saw her, the last time you heard her voice, but everything is blurry, like looking through a fogged-up window.

You try to imagine what it must’ve been like her last seconds, last thoughts, last breath.

Did she see it coming? Did she think of you? Did she feel afraid? Or was she just gone before she even had the chance?

And why does it matter? She left.

She walked away from you. She built a whole life somewhere else and didn’t once look back.

So why does it hurt so fucking much?

You slide down the wall, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes, trying to stop the burning, trying to stop feeling, but it’s everywhere, all at once and for the first time in your life, you understand.

You get it.

This, this weight in your chest, this endless sinking, this exhaustion that has settled into your bones like it belongs there, this was always the ending, wasn’t it?

It was always pointing here. Because what’s left? You have no family. No future.

You lost it at Starcourt. You lost pieces of yourself in the Upside Down, left them rotting between vines and monsters, left them gasping in the smoke-filled air, left them screaming in the neon glow of a mall on fire.

More importantly you lost Steve and that’s the worst part.

Because Steve was the one thing, the one fucking thing, that still felt like home. The one thing keeping you tethered to the idea that maybe, maybe, there was something else.

But you pushed him away.

You pushed all of them away and now there is nothing. There is no one, not even you and that realization shatters something inside you.

You stare at your hands, at your own fingers, at the skin and blood and bones that make up you, and you don’t know what to do with them anymore.

You don’t know what to do with yourself and maybe you don’t have to.

Maybe this is it, maybe this is where it ends. The thought should scare you, but it doesn’t.

It just feels… inevitable.

Like taking a final breath before stepping off a ledge. Like maybe you were always meant to end up here.

You should leave a note, something for Robin. Something for Nancy. Something for the kids but that would take so much work, so much effort, so much time and you don’t have that. It would be better that way for them anyway.

But there’s only one person you want to say goodbye to, only one person you want to hear one last time.

Your fingers tremble as you reach for the phone. You stare at the numbers, stare at the dial tone, at the empty silence waiting on the other end.

You call Steve.

It rings and rings.

And rings.

Just when you think it’s going to go to voicemail because that's what you deserve.

“Hello?”

---

Steve pulls up outside Robin’s house, shifting the car into park but leaving the engine running. The street is quiet, bathed in the dim glow of streetlights, the cicadas humming in the background. Robin leans back in her seat, staring out the windshield, arms crossed over her chest.

They’re both tired.

It’s been a long day. Not bad, just long. A double shift at Family Video, filled with annoying customers and late returns, followed by a long-winded discussion about whether or not The Empire Strikes Back is actually the best Star Wars movie and now, the stillness.

Robin sighs, shifting in her seat. “Sometimes I think we’re gonna work here forever.”

Steve huffs a quiet laugh. “You say that like it’s the worst thing ever.”

“It is,” she groans, letting her head fall back against the headrest. “This town is a black hole. People either get out, or they get stuck in the upside or worse, the upside down.”

Steve grips the steering wheel a little tighter. He knows that feeling, knows it too well.

Robin turns her head, looking at him. “You ever think about leaving?”

Steve exhales, shrugs. “Sometimes.”

It’s not a lie. He has thought about it. Thought about packing up, driving until Hawkins is just a distant memory in his rearview mirror.

But he never does.

Robin watches him for a second, then shifts. “Have you talked to her?”

Steve’s stomach clenches. He doesn’t need to ask who her is.

His fingers tighten around the wheel. “Drop it.”

Robin frowns. “Steve—”

“I mean it, Robin.” His voice comes out sharper than he intended. “Just drop it.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment. Just watches him, eyes searching. Then… “I heard you, you know.”

Steve blinks. “What?”

Robin tilts her head. “The fight. The night you two screamed at each other in the middle of the street.” She exhales, quieter now. “I heard you.”

Steve’s throat feels tight. “What are you talking about?”

Robin gives him a look. “You told her you love her.”

Steve swallows. Looks away. “As a friend.”

Robin scoffs. “Steve.”

He presses his lips together. Stares at his hands. Finally, quietly, “I know.”

Robin watches him. Something softens in her expression. “How long?”

Steve shakes his head. “I don’t know. Forever.” A humorless laugh escapes him. “It’s always been her.”

Robin doesn’t say Jesus, Steve, or I told you so. She just nods and that’s one of the reasons why he loves her. Because she gets it.

They sit in silence for a moment. Then Robin sighs, stretching her arms. “Well. I’m gonna call her tomorrow. Call me if anything happens.”

Steve shakes his head. “Nothing’s gonna happen.” He gestures vaguely. “Nothing ever happens.”

Robin snorts. “You say that like we don’t live in the most cursed town in America.”

Steve doesn’t laugh.

Robin studies him for a second, then pats his arm. “See you tomorrow, Dingus.”

She hops out, heading inside, and Steve watches her go before pulling away.

He doesn’t know why he feels uneasy. When he gets home, the house is dark, it always is. His parents are gone, they’re always gone and he's always alone. He steps inside, kicking off his shoes, running a hand through his hair.

The phone starts ringing.

Steve frowns, shutting the door behind him. He wasn’t expecting a call. Robin just got home, Dustin’s probably passed out.

He pauses, walks over to the phone. Picks up the receiver.

“Hello?”

Silence.

But not nothing, because he hears it.

The shaky, uneven breathing. The way it hitches, like whoever’s on the other end is trying and failing to hold it together. Like they’re choking on their own sobs.

And Steve knows. “Y/N?” His voice is softer now, careful, like if he says the wrong thing, you’ll disappear.

Nothing. Just more shaky, gasping breaths.

Steve grips the phone tighter, panic creeping into his veins. “Sweetheart, you need to breathe with me, okay? Just, just match my breathing, in and out. Can you do that for me?”

No response.

“Please.” His voice breaks. “Just try.”

He starts breathing, slow and steady, hoping you’ll follow. He knows you can hear it, knows you want to listen, want to do what he’s saying.

But he also knows you’re barely holding on.

Finally, finally a sound. Your voice, small and broken. “I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

Steve’s heart stops then kicks into overdrive.

“Be where?” His voice is urgent now. “Are you home? I’ll come get you. You can come here, you know that, right? You’re always welcome here. No matter what. No matter what happens.”

Silence.

Steve grips the phone so tight his knuckles turn white. “Y/N.”

“My mom’s dead.”

Steve stills. His brain stutters, trying to process the words, trying to make sense of them. “What?”

Your voice wobbles. “Some aunt, Marlene, I think, called me. Said she was in an accident and that was it. That was all she said.”

Steve swallows, running a hand over his face. “Jesus.”

“She didn’t even care enough to tell me anything. Nobody did. I have nobody, Steve.”

His heart hurts.

“That’s not true,” he says immediately. “You have me. You have all of us, no matter what.”

But it’s like you don’t even hear him. Like you’ve already made up your mind and barely above a whisper you repeat, “I just don’t wanna be here anymore.”

And Steve gets it, he sees the picture clear as day now, what here is, where here is. The way you sound, the weight in your voice. It clicks.

His stomach drops. His whole body tenses, panic flooding every inch of him. “Y/N, wait—”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice breaks completely. “I didn’t mean any of it Steve, I’m sorry, I just wanted to say goodbye.”

The line clicks dead.

Steve freezes, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t move. He’s in pure shock for a moment. He just stands there, the dial tone ringing in his ear, echoing inside his skull.

Then his body reacts, the phone crashes against the wall. He grabs his keys and then he’s running. Running out the door, into his car, peeling out of the driveway so fast his tires scream.

Because he has to get to you.

Now.

Steve has been scared before.

He’s been terrified.

He’s been chased by things with too many teeth, been tied to a chair in a dark basement with you bleeding beside him, been seconds away from dying more times than he can count.

But this, this is different.

This is a fear that burns, that consumes, that digs its claws into his chest and doesn’t let go.

His heart is racing, slamming against his ribs so hard it feels like it’s trying to break free. His hands are white-knuckled around the wheel as he flies down the streets of Hawkins, barely registering stop signs, barely hearing the sound of his own breathing, all he hears is you.

I don’t wanna be here anymore.

The words play on a loop inside his skull, hitting harder than anything else ever has. Because this isn’t something he can punch, isn’t something he can fight off, this isn’t a near miss, this isn’t luck.

This is you.

Because you are slipping through his fingers and you have been for a year and he cannot lose you. He presses harder on the gas, blowing through a red light, gripping the steering wheel so tightly it aches.

He doesn’t care.

He needs to get to you.

The moment he pulls up outside your apartment, he’s moving. Keys out, door slamming behind him, legs pumping.

He gets to the front entrance, but the door is locked, of course it is.. The buzzer panel is old and rusted, the names next to each button fading, barely legible.

He presses all of them.

One after another, over and over, until finally. “Jesus Christ, shut the fuck up!” A loud buzz, the door clicking open.

Steve shoves inside, taking the stairs two at a time, nearly tripping over his own feet in his desperation.

Your door.

His fist slams against the wood, hard enough to make it shake. “Y/N!”

Nothing.

No sound, no movement.

Panic surges up his throat, his body moving before he can even think, he throws his weight against the door.

Once.

Twice.

The wood splinters, the frame cracking.

A third time…the door bursts open.

Steve stumbles inside, chest heaving, eyes scanning the room.

Empty.

The bed is unmade, a glass of water sits half-finished on the counter, clothes are draped over a chair, but you aren’t here.

His heart stutters, his mind is a mess but something makes him remember.

Remember the way you used to sit on the roof when you first moved in, smoking joints and staring at the sky, talking about how it felt good to finally be free.

Steve turns and runs.

The fire escape is cold against his hands as he climbs, metal biting into his palms. He moves fast, too fast, feet slipping once, barely catching himself.

His pulse is pounding in his ears, he doesn’t know what he’s about to find. He just knows it has to be you.

Steve is breathless by the time he reaches the top.

His lungs burn, his legs shake, his chest aches, but none of it matters because there you are, standing at the edge.

The wind pushes against you, lifts your hair, makes you look so small, so fragile, like one wrong step could send you tumbling down and Steve has never been this scared in his entire fucking life.

Not when he was tied to a chair in a Russian bunker, not when a monster the size of a mall came crashing through fire and wreckage, not even when he thought he was going to die in the back of a speeding car, while being chased.

Nothing, nothing has ever been as terrifying as this.

You.

Standing there, staring down at the town like you don’t belong to it anymore. Like you’re already gone.

Steve cannot let that happen. “Hey.” His voice cracks as he steps closer, slow and careful, hands shaking at his sides. “Sweetheart, I need you to step back, okay? Please.”

You don’t look at him.

Your arms are wrapped around yourself, fingers digging into the sleeves of your sweater, like you’re holding yourself together, like you have to hold yourself together because if you don’t, you’ll fall apart completely.

Your voice comes out hollow, quiet. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Steve exhales shakily. “Neither should you.”

Another step.

His heart is beating so fast, too fast, slamming against his ribs, but he keeps moving, keeps going, because if he stops, if he hesitates for even a second he’s afraid he’ll lose you.

“You love this roof.” His voice wobbles, desperate, full of something too big for him to name. “You used to drag me up here, remember? You’d sit up here for hours and tell me about all the places you wanted to go, all the shit you wanted to do.”

You let out a quiet laugh. But there’s no joy in it. No life. Just emptiness. “Yeah,” you whisper. “Look how that turned out.”

Steve’s stomach twists, his throat tightens. His eyes burn and suddenly, he’s angry.

Not at you, never at you but at everything else. At the way the world chewed you up and spat you out. At the way it took and took and took until there was nothing left of you but this, this wreckage of a person who doesn’t even think they deserve to stay.

“You don’t get to do this.” His voice breaks. “You don’t get to fucking leave me, Y/N. You don’t get to decide that you don’t belong here anymore, you don’t get to leave me behind, you dont get to leave us behind.”

Finally you turn to look at him and Steve almost falls apart right there. Because you’re crying, your face is crumpling, your lips are shaking, and your eyes, your beautiful, familiar eyes are so tired.

Like you’ve been carrying this for so long. Like you don’t know how to stop.

“Steve…” Your voice cracks, and something inside of him shatters.

His hands tremble at his sides. His vision blurs. His whole body shakes, and then he’s crying too.

“You can’t do this to me,” he chokes out. “You can’t.”

You swallow hard. “I don’t know how to be here anymore, Steve.”

And that’s when he loses it.

“Then let me show you!” His voice breaks, loud and raw, echoing in the empty night air. “Let me fucking show you how, because I can’t—” He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots, his breath shuddering. “I can’t do this without you.”

You blink at him, startled.

He takes another step, closer now, close enough to touch.

“I don’t know how to be here without you.” His chest heaves. “Do you get that? Do you understand what you fucking mean to me? You think you have nobody? You think you don’t matter? That’s bullshit.”

His hands fly up, gesturing wildly, voice rising, full of so much desperation he feels like he might burst.

“I wake up thinking about you, I go to sleep thinking about you, I—” He lets out a broken laugh, shaking his head. “I have loved you my entire fucking life, and you think you don’t matter? You are the most important person I have ever fucking met, and I will not let you go, do you hear me? If you can’t stay for you, please stay for me, please I’m begging you!”

Your lip trembles, a tear slips down your cheek. “Steve…”

“Come here.” His voice cracks completely now. “Please.”

You hesitate.

For one unbearable second, you hesitate, but then you step back.

Steve moves instantly, closing the space between you, grabbing you by the shoulders and pulling you into his arms, holding you so tight it’s like he thinks you’ll disappear, like you’ll fall off that edge you’re no longer on if he lets go.

You break apart in his arms, you sob and so does he.

His hands clutch at your back, his face presses into your hair, his whole body shakes with the weight of everything he almost lost.

“I got you,” he whispers, over and over, like a prayer, like a promise. “I got you, I got you, I got you.”

Because he does and he always will.

Steve doesn’t let go of you.

Not when he walks you back inside your apartment, not when he eases you onto the couch like you might break, not when he kneels in front of you, hands still gripping your waist like he needs to feel that you’re here, that you’re real.

Your face is pale, eyes red and unfocused, your body limp with exhaustion, but you’re breathing. You’re here.

That’s all that matters.

Steve swallows hard, forces his voice steady. “Is there anything you need right now?”

You blink slowly. “What?”

He squeezes your knee, grounding. “I’m not leaving you alone and you’re not staying here. Not like this. You’re coming with me, okay? You’re coming to my house.*”

You don’t respond.

You just stare at him, like his words are coming from far away, like they’re slipping through cracks in your mind before they can reach you.

So Steve makes the decision for you. He pushes himself up, strides into your room. It’s quiet, untouched, like you haven’t really lived in it for a long time. Like it’s just a place you exist in.

Steve doesn’t think too hard about that.

He grabs the first duffel bag he can find, shoves in some clothes, sweatpants, a hoodie, a couple of T-shirts. Soft things. Comfortable things. Things that won’t make you feel like this. He throws in your toothbrush, doesn’t even bother with anything else.

Then he comes back to you. You haven’t moved. You’re still sitting exactly where he left you, hands resting limply in your lap, eyes distant.

Something in Steve’s chest cracks. He crouches in front of you again, sliding his hands into yours. “Come on, sweetheart.” His voice is soft, careful. “We’re going home.”

You don’t resist, you don’t do anything.

You just let him guide you up, one hand steady on your waist as he walks you down the stairs, out the front door. Your movements are slow, sluggish, like you’re walking through water, like none of this is quite real.

Steve doesn’t say anything.

He just opens the car door for you, helps you sit, pulls the seatbelt over your shoulder and buckles you in like you can’t do it yourself.

You don’t react. You just sit there, head lolling slightly against the seat, staring blankly out the window.

Steve clenches his jaw, swallows down the lump in his throat, he gets in and drives. It’s late. The roads are empty.

Steve’s hands are tight around the steering wheel, but his eyes keep flickering to you, watching your hands twitch in your lap, watching the slow, shallow rise and fall of your chest.

He doesn’t let himself think about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t answered the phone. If he took the long way back to his house from Robin’s like he was planning to but eventually decided not to.

If he hadn’t gotten to you in time, if he didn’t run that red light. He can’t think about that. He just focuses on the road. When he pulls up outside his house, you still don’t move.

Steve doesn’t even hesitate. He gets out, walks around to your side, opens the door, and reaches for you. “Come on, honey.” His voice is gentle, coaxing.

You let him help. You move like you don’t know how, like your body is detached from your mind, like none of this is real.

Steve guides you inside, one hand on your back, the other still gripping the duffel bag.

For once he's truly, truly thankful his parents are never home because he doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to fix any of this, but he knows you don’t need anyone else right now.

Just him.

You’re eventually in his room, the room is still littered with the pictures on the wall, ones of you, of Robin, of all of them.

You stop.

Your eyes land on a photo of you and Steve, from years ago, arms draped around each other, laughing. You stare at it, your lip trembles again, before you can stop it, before you even understand why a single tear slips down your cheek.

Steve sees it without thinking, without hesitating he reaches out and wipes it away. His fingers are warm, gentle against your skin.

His voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You don’t respond. Steve exhales, nodding like he expected that. “You hungry?”

You shake your head.

“You wanna shower?”

No.

“Sleep?”

A pause.

But then you nod, Steve moves without thinking, pulls back the covers. Helps you sit, then eases you down, hands steady on your arms.

He tucks you in, He doesn’t remember the last time he tucked you in, maybe some stupid drunken night but it feels right, it feels needed.

The second the blankets are around you, you turn on your side, staring at the closet door, silent tears slipping from the corners of your eyes.

Steve watches you for a long moment, then he turns off the light and sits. There’s a chair in the corner of his room, and he sinks into it, his legs bouncing, hands gripping the arms like he needs to hold on to something.

His mind races, he should call Robin. She’ll know what to do or Nancy. Probably both.

But then a sound pulls him out of his head a small, broken gasp. Steve’s head snaps up, you’re shaking. Your body is trembling under the blankets, breath hitching, sharp and uneven.

“Y/N?”

You don’t answer, Steve doesn’t think he never really has with you, he just moves.

Crosses the room, kneels beside the bed. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay, I’m here—”

Then you reach for him. Without a word, without thinking, you turn and latch onto him, burying your face in his chest, gripping his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping you here.

Steve freezes, because you don’t do this. You haven’t held him like this since last Summer, since the fire, since he started losing you.

But you’re sobbing now, whole body shaking, fingers digging into his arms, and Steve, Steve doesn’t care about anything except holding you tighter.

“I got you,” he whispers, one hand sliding into your hair, the other rubbing circles into your back. “I got you, I got you, I got you, I’ll always have you.

You cry harder and Steve stays, he always will.

He holds you, presses his cheek against the top of your head, murmuring soft reassurances, ”It’s okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Eventually, your breathing slows, the sobs fade and you fall asleep in his arms.

Steve exhales, tightens his grip and lets himself fall asleep holding you.

---

Steve wakes up to the sun peeking through his blinds. For a second, he forgets. For a second, it’s just morning, and everything is normal. Then he looks down, your hand is in his. Your fingers curled around his like you were afraid to let go even in sleep.

Steve exhales, throat tight, when his mind races with what happened 12 hours ago, the phone call, the drive, the roof. The way you had looked at him, like you were already gone, in a way you were.

His chest clenches. He carefully shifts his hand, running his thumb over the back of yours, grounding himself in the fact that you’re here. That you’re breathing.

The alarm clock blinks 10:02 AM.

Shit.

He was supposed to be at work two minutes ago.

Robin was opening, but he was supposed to be there and that’s obviously not happening. Steve glances at you, you’re still asleep.

He’s shocked, honestly. You never sleep this late, but judging by the dark circles under your eyes, you haven’t been sleeping much at all.

You look exhausted and the thought of waking you up, of pulling you out of whatever rest you’ve finally found, it feels wrong. So he doesn’t.

Instead, he carefully shifts out from under you, wincing when the mattress creaks, moving slowly so he doesn’t wake you. His chest aches as soon as he’s no longer touching you.

But you’re safe. You’re here. That’s all that matters. He makes sure the window is shut, leaving the bedroom door open.

Then he heads downstairs, goes straight to the phone, and dials Family Video.

It rings twice before Robin picks up. “Family Video, what do you want?”

“Robin.”

Something in his voice must tip her off, because she immediately straightens. “What?”

Steve presses a hand over his eyes. “I can’t come in today.”

Robin scoffs. “Yeah, no shit, Harrington, I figured that when you weren’t here—”

“Robin.” His voice breaks a little.

That’s when she really hears it. “Steve?” Her voice is different now. Quieter. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Steve lets out a slow, shaky breath. “No.”

Robin’s whole demeanor shifts. “Talk to me.”

Steve grips the phone tighter. “It’s Y/N.”

A pause.

”What happened?”

Steve doesn’t even know how to say it, it hurts to think about it, he can’t even imagine saying it but It all comes spilling out, rushed, like if he doesn’t say it fast, it’ll swallow him whole.

“She called me last night. She—” His breath hitches. “Robin, she said she didn’t wanna be here anymore.”

Silence.

”In Hawkins?”

Steve swallows hard. “No, I got to her apartment, and she wasn’t there, so I ran up to the roof, and—” His voice wobbles. “She was on the edge, Robin. She was just… standing there.”

Robin exhales sharply. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.” Steve lets out a humorless laugh, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah.”

Robin is silent for a moment, like she’s trying to process it. ”Where is she now?”

“Sleeping upstairs.”

Robin’s breath catches. “Oh my God.”

Steve swallows. “She barely said anything, but she—she let me take her home. I—I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t leave her alone, I wouldn’t.”

Robin is quiet for a moment.”You did the right thing.”

“Did I?” His voice breaks completely. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, Robin. I don’t know what to do with this. What do I do?”

Robin sighs. “We just… we just have to be there. That’s all we can do.”

Steve shakes his head. “What if it’s not enough?”

Robin’s voice is softer now. “It is.”

Steve lets out a breath.

“You’re staying with her, right?”

“Of course.”

“Good.”* Robin hesitates. “I’ll stop by after my shift, okay? And Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“You did good.”*

Steve exhales, pressing his forehead against the wall. “Thanks, Robs.”

They hang up.

And Steve stands there, gripping the phone, trying to remember how to breathe. Steve keeps staring at the phone for a long time before he dials again.

His hands shake, his stomach churns. He doesn’t want to call Nancy. Doesn’t want to say it out loud again. Because saying it makes it real.

He dials the Wheeler house.

It rings once.

Twice.

“Hello, you’ve reached the Wheeler residence, where Mike Wheeler is far too cool to be answering the phone, at ten in the morning on a flipping Saturday—”

Steve exhales sharply, already done with this. “Mike—”

”—but because I’m a good son, I—”

“Mike, shut the hell up and put Nancy on the phone.”*

There’s a pause.

”Jesus, what crawled up your ass?”

Steve clenches his jaw, his voice cracks. “Mike, I swear to God—”

Mike must really hear his voice. The tightness in it. The way it’s shaking.

Because his whole attitude shifts.

“Oh, shit.”*

Steve exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just get Nancy, man.”

“Yeah, okay.” There’s a clatter on the other end, probably Mike throwing the phone down instead of setting it down like a normal person.

“NANCE! IT’S STEVE! SOMETHING’S WRONG!”

Steve closes his eyes.

Waits.

“Steve?”

Nancy’s voice is firm. No hesitation, no teasing, no bullshit, just Nancy, in that way she always is when she knows something is serious.

Steve swallows hard. “I need your help.”

“Is everything okay?”

Nancy’s voice is sharp, cutting through the haze in his head, and Steve grips the phone so tight his knuckles turn white.

He doesn’t answer right away.

Because no. No, nothing is okay.

But if he says that, if he admits it, then it’s real. Then it’s another thing he doesn’t know how to fix, another problem too big for him to hold.

Nancy exhales. “Steve.”

He swallows. “I don’t know what to do.”

Her voice softens. “What happened?”

Steve drags a hand down his face, fingers tangling in his hair, heart hammering so hard it feels like it’s trying to break free from his ribs. “I need your help, Nance. I—” His voice wobbles, cracks right down the middle, and he hates it, hates the way it makes him sound small, like he’s fucking helpless. “I don’t know what to do.”

Nancy’s quiet for a second, and he can picture her, can see the way she’s probably standing in the kitchen, hand on her hip, brows furrowed, that look she gets when she’s thinking, when she’s trying to fit all the puzzle pieces together before she says anything.

“I need more information than that, Steve.”

Her voice is firm but not impatient. Grounding.

Steve exhales, leans his forehead against the wall, and forces the words out.

“Y/N called me last night.”

He hears Nancy shift on the other end, like she’s bracing.

“She—” He stops, presses his lips together, his throat burning. “She didn’t wanna be here anymore, she said goodbye, then I went to her place. She was on the roof…she was at the edge.”

Silence.

Not the bad kind. The kind that means something. The kind that sits heavy, like a weight neither of them know how to hold.

Nancy exhales. “Jesus, Steve.”

“Yeah.” His voice is barely above a whisper.

“Where is she now?”

“Upstairs. In my bed. Sleeping.”

Nancy doesn’t respond right away. When she does, her voice is careful. “Is she okay?”

Steve lets out a humorless laugh, swiping at his face. “No.”

Nancy doesn’t tell him everything’s going to be fine, doesn’t try to downplay it. That’s the thing about her, she knows better.

“What happened?” she asks instead. “Start from the beginning.”

Steve tells her. Not all of it. Not the ugly parts, the parts that make his head spin and his stomach clench, the parts that feel too big to say out loud. But enough, the phone call. The way you sounded.

The way he drove like his life depended on it because it did, because yours did. Breaking down your fucking door. Running up the fire escape like a maniac. Finding you on the edge of the roof. The begging. The way he almost lost you. The way he doesn’t know what the fuck to do now.

Nancy listens, doesn’t interrupt. Doesn’t tell him to calm down or to breathe or to stop blaming himself, even though she probably should.

”You did the right thing, Steve.”

He laughs, shaky, rubbing at his chest. “Then why does it feel like I fucked it all up?”

“This is a traumatic event for you too Steve, it's okay to feel like this.” Nancy sighs. “Also because you’re not used to not being able to fix things.”

That shuts him up. Because yeah. Yeah, maybe that’s exactly it.

Steve has never been the smartest person in the room, never been the leader, not even with a bunch of children, never been the one with the answers.

But when it comes to his people? That’s all he has.He takes care of them. All of them.

Robin, Dustin, the rest of the kids, he makes sure they eat, makes sure they get home safe, makes sure they have someone to call when shit hits the fan. You, he never truly had to worry about you before, you were always the one looking after him, but now it's you he has to worry about and he doesn’t know how to take care of you and it’s fucking killing him.

Nancy exhales through the receiver. “She’s safe. She’s alive. That’s because of you, Steve.”

Steve shakes his head, blinking up at the ceiling. “I don’t wanna overwhelm her. But I don’t—” His voice cracks again. “I don’t know what to do, Nance. What do I do?”

Nancy is quiet for a moment. ”For now you just have to be there. I’ll talk to my Mom, vaguely for some advice to see what's best for her, okay?”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut. Because that’s what Robin said.

And if they’re both saying it, if they’re both telling him that’s all he can do, maybe it’s true. Nancy sighs, softer now. “Do you want me to come over?”

Steve hesitates. He does, in a way. Wants someone else to carry this weight with him, to know what to do when he doesn’t. But then he thinks about you.

Thinks about how fragile you looked, about the way you latched onto him like you couldn’t breathe without him, like he was the only thing keeping you here and he knows you’re going to wake up soon.

He also knows that when you do, the only person you’ll be able to handle right now is him.

So he shakes his head, even though Nancy can’t see him. “No. Not yet.”

Nancy hums, understanding. “Okay.”

Another pause.

”Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re doing the best you can.”

Steve lets out a shaky breath, runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah.”

Steve hangs up the phone.

Exhales.

Runs a hand down his face, trying to ground himself, trying to press himself back into reality, back into here and now, instead of spiraling down the endless, clawing tunnel of what-ifs.

He hears footsteps. Turning and there you are.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, still wrapped in the hoodie he gave you last night, sleeves too long for your hands, eyes swollen from crying, face pale with exhaustion.

Steve freezes and you freeze, too. Like neither of you know what comes next because you never planned on living another day.

You swallow hard. “I’m sorry.”

Your voice is small. Unsteady. Like a fragile thread holding something much bigger, much darker in place.

Steve’s stomach clenches. “Don’t apologize.”

Your bottom lip wobbles, the second it does, Steve moves, stepping forward, closing the space between you, hands twitching at his sides because he wants to grab you, wants to hold you, but he doesn’t know if you’ll let him.

You shake your head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Steve’s heart cracks. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head harder. “Yes, there is. There has to be, because—” You swallow, breath stuttering, hands clenching at your sides. “Because normal people don’t feel like this, Steve. Normal people don’t wake up and immediately want to disappear. Normal people don’t have this…this thing inside them, this voice, this…this lingering urge in the back of their head telling them it’d be easier to just stop existing, to, to jump off a roof.”

Steve’s chest is aching. But you’re not done.

You look up at him, eyes desperate, pleading, breaking. “I don’t know what to do.” Your voice cracks. “I don’t know how to make it stop and I’ve been horrible, and I am horrible, and I hate myself, Steve, I fucking—” Your breath hitches, coming out as a choked sob. “I hate myself so much I can’t breathe sometimes.”*

Steve doesn’t know he’s crying until he feels the tears slip down his cheeks. He can’t hear you talk like this. He can’t.

Because every single word is a knife to his gut, every single syllable is a lie, and he wants to grab you and shake you and make you see what he sees.

“I know you don’t get it,” you whisper. “I know it doesn’t make sense to you, because—because you’re you. You’re Steve Harrington. You’re—” You gesture vaguely, helplessly. “You’re warm, and you’re good, and you take care of people, and everybody loves you—”

You stop yourself. Let out a broken laugh, shaking your head.

“I don’t even think I know how to be loved.”

And that’s it.

That’s the thing that ruins him.

Because fuck that.

Fuck that so much.

Steve moves, grabbing you, pulling you into him so hard it knocks the breath out of both of you, wraps his arms around you tightly and then, into your hair, into your skin, into everything that makes you, you.

“I love you.”

You go rigid.

But Steve just holds you tighter.

“I love you.”

Your fingers twitch.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

The words pour out of him, over and over, as many times as it takes, like maybe if he says them enough, they’ll sink into your skin, they’ll push out all the other shit, they’ll replace the darkness with something real.

Your hands fist into the fabric of his shirt, your body shakes, and then you’re sobbing into his chest, shaking your head like you don’t believe him, like you can’t believe him.

“Stop,” you whisper, voice trembling. “Stop saying that.”

“No.” Steve holds you tighter, presses his lips against your temple, voice breaking. “No, because it’s true, and I don’t give a shit if you don’t believe it, I’m gonna say it until you do.”

You let out a choked noise.

“I love you,” Steve says again, firm this time, steady. “I love you, and you are not alone, and you don’t have to do this by yourself, I won't let you ever again even try to, and I swear to God, Y/N, if you ever try to leave me again, I—” His voice cracks, and he pulls back just enough to look at you, to force you to see him. “I can’t lose you.”

Your eyes are wet and wide, you stare at him like you’re searching for something, like you’re waiting for him to take it back. But he won’t, he never will. He means it.

And you must see that, must feel it, because your face crumples completely, and then you’re gripping him, burying yourself against his chest, and Steve doesn’t think he’s ever held onto something so tightly in his entire life.

He rocks you slowly, his hands smoothing over your back, his lips pressed against your temple, murmuring soft reassurances between your ragged, gasping breaths.

“I got you. I got you, sweetheart. I got you.”

----

It’s been weeks.

Weeks of slow, steady progress.

Weeks of Steve picking you up every morning, weeks of phone calls where he doesn’t hang up until he knows you’re okay, weeks of sleep overs between your apartment and his house, weeks of always having him, or Robin or Nancy with you, weeks of him refusing to let you retreat back into yourself.

Weeks of driving you all the way to the city because he found a doctor there, one that actually listens, one that doesn’t look at you like you’re broken beyond repair.

Weeks of new medication, of trying something different, of slowly, so slowly, feeling the weight in your chest start to lift.

It’s not perfect. You still have bad days. You still have moments.

But for the first time in the last year and a half, you don’t feel so alone, and you don’t want to be alone. Steve has everything to do with that.

There have been more hangouts, more time spent with the group.

Movie nights at Steve’s where Robin falls asleep halfway through and Dustin talks over the entire thing.

Arcade trips where Max beats everyone at everything.

Long afternoons at Steve’s pool, Steve sitting at the edge with his eyes never leaving you, while Lucas and Erica fight over the floaties.

You’ve started laughing again. Really laughing.

And Steve…god. Steve looks at you every time, like it’s the best sound he’s ever heard because to him it is.

Tonight, it’s just the two of you. Back on your roof. Steve had been hesitant at first, for obvious reasons but you told him it was different now. That you just wanted to be here with him, so of course he went up with you. He would go anywhere with you.

You’re lying flat on your backs, side by side, looking up at the stars. The night is warm, a soft breeze cutting through the air.

Things feel light.

Steve exhales. “We should leave.”

You blink, turning your head to look at him. “What?”

He gestures vaguely at the sky. “Hawkins. The whole damn town. Just… pack up and go. Start fresh.”

You snort. “That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”

Steve hums. “Maybe.”

You glance back up, staring at the stars. “Where would we even go?”

Steve shrugs. “Somewhere warm. Somewhere with a beach.”

You huff out a quiet laugh. “You just want an excuse to wear those tiny-ass swim trunks.”

Steve grins. “Obviously.”

Silence settles between you, not uncomfortable.

Just there.

A few weeks ago, you wouldn’t have been able to sit in this kind of quiet without your own thoughts eating you alive. Now it’s just nice.

You turn your head again, you look at Steve. Really look at him.

The way the soft glow of the stars reflects in his eyes. The way his hair curls slightly at the ends. The way his lips part slightly, like he’s about to say something but stops himself.

And you, you know. You always have. So you sit up, take a deep breath and say it, finally say it.

“I love you.”

Steve goes completely still.

His eyes snap to yours, wide and disbelieving. “What?”

Your heart is pounding, but you don’t look away. “I love you.”

He blinks. “Like… like a friend?”

You shake your head. “No.” A slow breath. “It’s always been more.”

Steve sits up, his whole body frozen.

His voice is barely there when he says, “Then why, why didn’t you ever—”

You let out a small, shaky laugh. “Because I don’t deserve you, Steve.”

His face.

God.

His whole expression crumples, like those words actually hurt him.

“Don’t say that,” he whispers, voice wrecked. “Please, don’t say that.”

You swallow, glancing down at your lap. “It’s true.”

“No, it’s not.” Steve shakes his head, firm, unwavering. “You deserve the world, llease let me give it to you.”*

Your eyes snap up to meet his, he means it. You can see it all over him. Your chest aches. “How long?” you whisper. “How long have you—”

Steve laughs, shaky, rubbing a hand over his face. “As long as I can remember.” He swallows. “It’s always been you. But I didn’t think—I didn’t think I could have you.”*

Your breath catches. “I have a lot of baggage, Steve.”

Steve nods, lips pressing together. “I know.”

You exhale. “My family—I don’t have anyone else, it would be too much.”

“You’re could never too much, you’re everything to me.”.His eyes shift, his whole body tense, voice so sure when he says, “Fuck our families. We created our own.”*

Your throat tightens.

“We have those kids.”

A pause.

“We have Robin.”*

A beat.

“We have each other.”

You suck in a breath. Your whole body feels electric, like you’re standing on the edge of something huge, something you never thought you’d let yourself have.

“Did you really mean it?” Your voice comes out small, barely there, but it’s the only thing that exists in this moment.

Steve doesn’t even hesitate.

“God, I mean it with every bone in my body.”

You blink up at him, at the way his eyes burn with it, at the way his hands shake just slightly like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers. “Okay.”

Steve’s breath catches. His lips part slightly, like he’s about to ask you to say it again, to make sure he’s not dreaming. “Okay?”

You nod, swallowing against the tightness in your throat. “Okay.”

For the first time in almost two years, something settles in your chest. Something warm, something good.

Steve is still watching you like you might disappear, like he doesn’t believe this is happening, like he’s waiting for you to take it back.

Softly he asks. “Can I kiss you?” His voice is barely above a whisper, like he’s scared of the answer.

You let out a small, trembling laugh, feeling something inside of you crack wide open. “Nothing would make me happier.”

Then it’s happening.

Slow.

Hesitant.

Both of you leaning in, eyes fluttering shut, waiting, waiting, waiting until his lips meet yours.

It’s soft, careful, like he’s terrified of breaking you, like he’s afraid of moving too fast, of doing this wrong.

But then you melt into him and Steve sighs against your lips, like he’s been holding his breath for years and only now is he finally letting it out.

His hands cup your face, fingers threading into your hair, and you press closer, tilting your head, letting yourself fall. Steve deepens the kiss, slow and steady, and it’s….It’s everything.

Everything you didn’t think you deserved. Everything you almost let slip away. Everything you never let yourself want until now.

You pull back, just barely, enough to feel his breath against your lips, enough to see the way he’s looking at you.

Like you hung the stars in the sky, like he’s been waiting for this. Like he’s been waiting for you and well he has.

“I’ve always dreamed of this,” Steve whispers, thumb stroking your cheek, his voice thick with something that makes your chest ache. “I’ve always dreamed of you.”

Your throat tightens. You don’t trust yourself to speak.

Because fuck, you almost never had this.

You almost left this and him behind.

The thought of it makes your stomach turn, makes your fingers clench around the fabric of his shirt, because how close were you?

How close were you to never having this? To never seeing him look at you like this, to never knowing what it’s like to feel this wanted, this safe, this loved?

“Thank you Steve, for everything.”

Steve shakes his head, closing his eyes for a second like he’s trying to keep himself together.

“Don’t thank me, please.” His voice is quiet, breathless. “I’d do anything for you.”

You suck in a shaky breath. “I was scared.”

Steve blinks at you, hand still resting on your cheek. “I know.”

You shake your head. “No, I mean—” You close your eyes for a second, gathering the words, feeling them crack inside you like something fragile, something breaking open. “I was scared that if I let myself have this, if I let myself have you that I’d lose you. That one day, you’d wake up and see me the way I see myself and realize I’m not worth it and I wouldn't be able to handle that.”

Steve makes a small, wrecked noise in the back of his throat. His hands tighten their grip on you, like he’s trying to anchor you, like he’s trying to hold onto you physically the way he’s always been trying to hold onto you emotionally.

“You don’t get to say that,” he murmurs, shaking his head, voice raw. “You don’t get to decide that for me. I love you, and you don’t get to tell me that I shouldn’t.”

Your chest hurts, because you now know he means it.

“You’re not losing me, sweetheart.” His voice is so sure, so steady, like there’s not a single part of him that doubts it. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Your throat is too tight. You shake your head, blinking rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. “You promise?”

Steve leans in, presses his forehead against yours, breath warm against your skin. “I swear on everything I have.”

The tears slip free. You let out a small, shaky laugh. “I’m glad I stayed.”

Steve exhales sharply, almost brokenly, his whole body tensing against you. “I’m glad I made you stay.”

The weight of it all, of everything settles between you. The nights you almost didn’t make it. The fights, the pain, the loneliness and the fact that despite all of it, despite how close you were to falling off the edge, despite how many times you tried to push him away, Steve is still here.

“Can I kiss you again?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper, like he’s afraid of ruining this moment.

You let out a trembling laugh. “Please.”

He’s kissing you again, harder this time, less hesitant, less careful because now he knows you’re not slipping away.

His fingers thread through your hair, tilting your head, deepening it, like he’s pouring everything into this kiss, like he’s making up for all the times he didn’t do this sooner.

When he pulls back, his forehead stays pressed against yours. His breath is warm, uneven, like he’s trying to memorize this moment, like he’s afraid to move too fast and wake up from a dream he’s spent years convincing himself he’d never have.

“I love you,” he breathes, voice thick with something raw, something unshakable. His hands tremble slightly where they cradle your face, his thumbs skimming over your cheekbones like he needs proof that you’re real. “God, I love you so much.”

This time you don’t just hear it, you feel it deep in your bones, in the spaces that have always felt empty, in the cracks you were sure no one could ever fill.

You let out a breath, shaky and light, something breaking open inside you in the best possible way. You lean in, pressing your lips to his once, twice, slow and lingering, just because you can.

“I love you Steve Harrington.”

His whole body sags with relief, like those words physically hold him together, like he was holding onto a ledge and you just pulled him back up.

Steve laughs softly, shaking his head, pressing another kiss to your forehead, your cheek, the tip of your nose.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice full of something so devastatingly tender it makes your chest ache, “you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that.”

You close your eyes, resting against him, breathing him in, letting the moment settle deep into your skin.

So softly it’s barely above a whisper. “I think I do.”

Steve pulls back just enough to look at you, really look at you, eyes shining in the dim light, searching for something but whatever it is, he must’ve found it.

Because he smiles, slow and sure, before leaning in again, pressing his lips to yours like a vow, unspoken, unwavering, forever.

The world is quiet, the night stretching endlessly around you, but here, in this moment, there is only him. Only the warmth of his touch, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours, the way he holds you and you finally believe you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington

737 notes · View notes

kaiyunsim · 5 months ago

Text

best lover —

pairing : bf!taesan x gn!reader

summary : after taesan works hard for the newest comeback you wanted to get him a gift... something perfect. but you don't know what exactly to get him so you get help from his roommate.

warnings : fluff, angst (just a little bit), tense confrontation, some music references, taesan gets kinda jealous, kind of a continuation of this fic

a/n : this lowkey made me relapse into the emo/punk genre and now i'm actively listening to them again ! taesan so silly here.

queueing : best lover - bibi, and july - heize + dean

[requested]

— wc : 4.8k — not proof read —

you’ve always known taesan was cool.

not in the tryhard way, not in the way people force an image to seem untouchable. no, he’s effortlessly cool. the kind of cool that comes from simply existing, from being so unapologetically himself that it draws people in.

his aesthetic is proof of that—dark clothes, silver rings, an ever-growing collection of band tees that he claims aren’t a collection but still seem to multiply every time you see him. his playlists are filled with gritty guitar riffs and melancholic lyrics, songs that feel like they belong in a coming-of-age film.

you love it. you love the way he leans against walls like a movie character, the way his fingers tap out drum beats on tables when he’s lost in thought. the way his voice gets softer when he talks about music, when he lets his guard down just enough for you to see the warmth underneath.

so, when their comeback is finally announced, when you see the hours of training, late-night rehearsals, and exhaustion culminate into something incredible, you know you need to do something. something that says, i see you. i see how hard you’ve worked, and i’m proud of you.

but what do you get someone like taesan?

he’s never been the type to want extravagant gifts. he shrugs off praise, mumbles “it’s nothing” when people tell him he’s done well. but you know he keeps every little note fans give him, that he still has the random trinkets the members bought him over the years.

so it has to be something personal. something that actually means something.

you think about it for days, running through ideas in your head. clothes? no, too easy. he already has everything he likes. accessories? maybe, but he’s picky, and you don’t trust yourself to pick out something he’d actually wear.

and then it hits you.

vinyls.

taesan loves music in a way that’s deeper than just listening. he collects records, always talking about how certain albums sound different on vinyl, how the warmth and crackle make it feel more alive. you’ve seen the way he runs his fingers over the covers, the way he carefully places them on his turntable like he’s handling something sacred.

but you don’t know enough about it.

you know the bands he listens to, sure, but not the specific pressings, not which editions are worth having, not which ones he’s been searching for. you need help.

so, you text the only person who would know and would be the most help.

sungho.

—

you: hey, random question, but do you think you could help me with something?

he replies almost immediately.

sungho: depends. am i gonna regret saying yes?

you snort. typical.

you: no, it’s for taesan. i wanna get him some vinyls, but i don’t know which ones he’d actually want.

a pause. then—

sungho: oh. you’re going ot make him a happy boyfriend for sure. sungho: yeah, i can help. you free tomorrow?

relief washes over you.

you: yeah. thanks, sungho. seriously.

sungho: don’t thank me yet. wait till we actually find something good.

you smile, pocketing your phone.

this is a good plan. a perfect plan.

now, you just have to keep it a secret.

the next morning, you wake up with a nervous excitement buzzing under your skin.

taesan is still half-asleep when you see him, his hair messy from sleep, the collar of his oversized shirt slipping down one shoulder. he looks soft like this, different from his usual sharp edges and guarded expressions.

“morning,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before he can grumble in protest.

he mumbles something incoherent, eyes still closed, before reaching out and lazily wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

you laugh, poking his side. “i have to go out for a bit.”

that wakes him up a little. his eyes blink open, groggy but alert. “where?”

you freeze for half a second before forcing yourself to play it cool. “just running errands.”

his brow furrows slightly, but he doesn’t question it. instead, he just tightens his grip around you for a moment before letting go.

“be safe,” he mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.

your heart squeezes at that.

you brush his hair out of his face, letting your fingers linger for a second longer than necessary. “always.”

—

meeting up with sungho feels like a mission.

he’s already waiting outside the taesan's dorm room, dressed casually but still effortlessly put together, a stark contrast to the slightly chaotic energy you’re bringing with you.

“you look nervous,” he says, amused.

“because i am.”

he raises an eyebrow. “it’s just vinyl shopping.”

“yeah, but it’s for taesan,” you stress. “i can’t mess this up. i need to find something perfect.”

sungho rolls his eyes but leads the way inside the vinyl store, hidden in the corners of the busy streets.

the moment you step in, you’re overwhelmed.

rows and rows of records stretch out in front of you, organized into sections you barely understand. the store smells like old paper and something nostalgic, a quiet hum of music playing from the speakers.

sungho glances at you. “you know what bands he likes, right?”

you nod. “yeah, but i don’t know what he already has.”

“then we start with the basics.”

he guides you through the aisles, pointing out albums that fit taesan’s taste. some are obvious bands you’ve seen on his playlists, artists you recognize from the posters in his room. others, not so much.

“this one’s a classic,” sungho says, pulling out a worn-looking album. “he’s mentioned it before, i think he even has a t-shirt of them.”

it was the black parade by my chemical romance

you take it from him, running your fingers over the cover. “do you think he already has the vinyl?”

sungho shakes his head. “nah, he would’ve bragged about it if he did.”

you smile at that. taesan isn’t the bragging type, not really, but when it comes to things he loves, he can’t help but share them with you. you can already picture the way his eyes will light up when he sees the gift, the way he’ll trace the album cover with careful fingers before hugging you in that quiet, deliberate way of his.

this is good. this is exactly what you wanted.

you glance at sungho. “i think we’re on the right track.”

he smirks. “told you.”

you roll your eyes but can’t hide your grin.

this is going to be perfect.

if you can keep it a secret long enough.

you flip through the stacks carefully, the plastic sleeves crinkling under your fingertips as you skim the selection. rows of album covers stare back at you, some bold and vibrant, others muted and mysterious, each one a different piece of someone’s story.

sungho stands beside you, already pulling out records with ease, flipping them over to check editions and pressings like it’s second nature.

“how do you even know all this?” you ask, watching as he inspects a black-and-white cover, his eyes narrowing slightly before he shakes his head and puts it back.

he smirks. “taesan’s not the only one with taste, you know.”

you roll your eyes. “yeah, but you act like this is your second home.”

he hums, running his fingers along the edge of a shelf. “it kinda is. when i first moved into the dorms, i’d come to places like this just to kill time. got to know a lot about music that way.”

that makes sense. sungho has that effortless, older-brother energy, the kind that makes you feel like he’s always been one step ahead of everyone else. but even so, you know there’s more to it. something about the way he says it, like music was a comfort rather than just a hobby.

you glance down at the album in your hands. the artwork is dramatic, painted in deep reds and blacks, the kind of thing you could easily imagine taesan leaving out on his desk just because it looks cool. it was titled a fever you can’t sweat out this time, by panic at the disco

you hesitate. “what about this one?”

sungho looks over, and to your relief, he nods in approval. “solid pick. taesan likes them. they have that whole raw, gritty sound he’s into.”

you exhale, setting it aside in the growing pile of vinyls you’ve picked out. “good. i was kinda guessing.”

sungho snickers. “if you were completely guessing, you would’ve picked something embarrassing.”

you give him a flat look. “i wouldn’t do that.”

“you sure? no boyband vinyls hidden in that stack?”

“why are you acting like that would be a crime?”

he laughs, shaking his head. “nah, but taesan would probably combust.”

you grin at the thought. he probably would. his whole tough, brooding image crumbling the second someone dared to associate him with anything remotely bright and upbeat. you’ve teased him about it before, played pop songs in his presence just to watch him pretend he wasn’t listening.

but this isn’t about teasing him. this is about him.

you glance around the store, taking in the dim lighting, the faint sound of a record spinning in the background. a few other customers linger nearby, flipping through vinyls with the same careful reverence, but none of them seem rushed. it’s the kind of place taesan would get lost in, taking his time with every shelf, soaking in the atmosphere.

you wish he was here.

you shake the thought away before it can settle too deep.

“okay,” you say, straightening up. “i think i need at least one more.”

sungho scans the shelves before reaching over and pulling out a record without hesitation.

“this.”

you take it from him, studying the cover. it’s striking… american idiot by greenday.

“he’s been looking for this one,” sungho explains. “i remember him complaining about how it’s always out of stock.”

your chest warms. “then that’s perfect.”

sungho grins. “congrats, you officially have a good gift… or multiple”

you roll your eyes but can’t help but smile. “thanks for the approval.”

“anytime.”

you head to the counter, placing the records down carefully as the cashier rings them up. the prices make you wince a little. vinyl collecting is not cheap. but you don’t hesitate. taesan is worth it.

when you step back outside, the air feels cooler, a slight breeze brushing against your skin. sungho stretches beside you, squinting up at the sky.

“so,” he says. “how are you planning to give it to him?”

you blink. “uh. just... give it to him?”

he gives you a flat look. “you’re really bad at this.”

“excuse me?”

“c’mon,” he says. “you go through all this trouble, sneak around just to surprise him, and you’re just gonna hand it to him like it’s a bag of chips?”

you frown. “what am i supposed to do? make a scavenger hunt?”

“i mean, that would be funny.”

“sungho.”

he chuckles. “fine, fine. but at least make it a moment, you know? like, put them in a nice box or something. set the mood a little.”

you consider that. he’s right. you don’t just want this to be a casual exchange. you want taesan to feel how much this means.

“okay,” you say slowly. “i’ll think of something.”

sungho pats your shoulder. “good. because if you don’t, i’m telling him i helped.”

you gasp. “you wouldn’t.”

his grin is downright evil. “try me.”

you groan, shoving him lightly as he laughs.

but despite the teasing, there’s a warmth in your chest that wasn’t there before. because for all the effort, all the second-guessing, all the overthinking. you know this is the right thing to do.

you just hope taesan sees it that way, too.

you and sungho are now wandering the streets, bags in hand, the weight of them a constant reminder of what you're keeping from taesan. there's a knot in your stomach, anxiety creeping in at the thought of what will happen once you return to the dorm.

sungho notices you fidgeting with your phone, eyes flicking between your screen and the road ahead. "you've been checking your messages like every two seconds," he says with a knowing smile. "taesan giving you trouble?"

"i... i don’t know," you mutter, glancing at your phone again. "he hasn’t texted yet. i think he’s mad."

sungho snorts. "he’s always mad."

you roll your eyes but can't help the tension building inside you. it's not like taesan to be suspicious like this. sure, he's possessive at times, but you’ve always been upfront with him. today, though, everything feels off. you know he’s probably wondering where you are, especially after leaving so abruptly.

after a few more moments of walking, your phone buzzes in your hand. it’s a message from taesan.

you open it quickly, your heart dropping when you read the text.

taesan: where are you?

you can almost hear the frustration in his words, even though they’re so short. you hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond. the last thing you want is to reveal anything.

“everything okay?” sungho asks, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow.

“yeah,” you say quickly, typing back a response. "just... running… errands…"

you: just out. why?

you hit send and try to push the worry away. but it doesn’t help when your phone buzzes again, another message from taesan.

taesan: are you by yourself?

your stomach tightens. it feels like he’s fishing for something, trying to confirm his suspicions. you swallow hard. taesan doesn’t know you’re out with sungho. he probably thinks you’re just alone, maybe out with someone else. the thought of him jumping to conclusions makes you tense up.

“you need to tell him the truth, man,” sungho says, half-joking but still serious. “it’s gonna be hard to keep it up much longer.”

you bite your lip, looking at the text again. taesan doesn’t like being kept in the dark. but if you tell him you're out with sungho, there's no way you can keep the surprise a secret.

you: yeah, just me. out by myself.

you send the message quickly, almost immediately regretting it. the lie feels wrong in your gut, but you can’t risk ruining the surprise.

as soon as you hit send, another text from taesan comes through.

taesan: you didn’t tell me where you went. it’s weird, you know. don’t lie to me.

your heart sinks. this is exactly what you were afraid of. you can feel his frustration radiating through the words, even though they’re brief. taesan might not say it outright, but you know he’s pissed.

“is he mad?” sungho asks, eyes narrowing as he watches you.

“yeah,” you say quietly, looking at the screen again. “he thinks i’m lying.”

sungho tilts his head, his expression softening. “well, you kind of are...”

you groan, feeling guilty. “yeah, but if i tell him the truth, he’ll know what we’re really doing.”

sungho sighs but doesn’t press. “you’ve got to be careful, though. taesan can’t stand being lied to. he might feel like you’re hiding something else.”

you take a deep breath, trying to push the anxiety aside. “he’s just overthinking it. i’ll deal with it when we get back.”

you walk in silence for a bit longer, and the weight of the lie is starting to feel unbearable. but then your phone buzzes again. it’s from taesan.

taesan: riwoo just told me you’re out with sungho. why didn’t you say that?

your heart stops. it feels like everything is crashing down around you. of course, taesan would hear from riwoo. he always does. but you didn’t think it would happen so soon.

sungho laughs lightly, though it’s more nervous than anything else. “i mean, it’s not like you didn’t want him to find out.”

you stare at the message, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration. “he’s so mad now...”

“you better fix it,” sungho says with a small chuckle. “he’s gonna blow up on you if you keep avoiding the truth.”

you sigh, rubbing your eyes. “i don’t know how to fix it. i’ve already lied twice.”

“well,” sungho says, “maybe you just gotta... tell him the truth at this point. no more hiding.”

but you’re not ready to do that. not yet. the surprise is too important to mess up now.

you type out a message, your hands shaking a little as you try to keep it steady.

you: i’m sorry. we just bumped into eachothee

you press send, waiting for taesan’s response with bated breath.

it takes a while, but finally, your phone buzzes.

taesan: it was a coincidence?

you let out a sigh of relief. it's not as bad as it could have been, but you still feel like you’ve messed up.

you: yeah, i went out to grab some stuff, and boom, sungho was there getting some stuff for the dorm too

you wait for a reply, and when it comes, it’s still not as angry as you expected, but you can hear the frustration in taesan’s words.

taesan: you know, you could’ve just told me. i don’t like when you hide stuff from me.

your heart drops, and you feel guilty again. you want to explain yourself, but you’re afraid it’ll make everything worse.

“he’s really pissed now,” you say quietly to sungho, who nods sympathetically.

“you should’ve just told him earlier,” he says, though his tone is more playful than critical. “now you gotta go back and fix it.”

you take a deep breath, realizing sungho’s right. you’re going to have to deal with the fallout when you get back to the dorm.

you decide on sungho’s dorm since taesan is rooming with woonhak and jaehyun so it would be perfect to wrap his gift all together and put final touched on it.

but once you open the door, you stand frozen at the door of sungho’s dorm, heart hammering in your chest. the moment taesan walks in, everything about the room shifts. his presence fills the space, and even though he’s not saying anything yet, you feel the weight of his gaze.

“so, this is where you’ve been?” taesan’s voice cuts through the silence. it’s sharper than usual, colder too. he looks at you, then at sungho, his eyes narrowing. “i thought you said you were by yourself.”

you feel your breath catch in your throat. his words hit harder than expected, but you force a smile, trying to keep your cool. “i was… i mean, i am.”

taesan tilts his head, his eyes scanning you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re lying. you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “i just bumped into sungho, we were talking, and i guess riwoo saw us leave together.” you’re already regretting how this sounds, but you can’t back down now. you have to keep the lie intact.

“bumped into sungho?” taesan’s voice drips with suspicion. “so it’s just a coincidence you were both out together?”

you nod quickly, hoping he buys it. “yeah, we were just… talking, you know? nothing serious. i just didn’t want to bother you while you were busy.”

taesan crosses his arms, studying you with a sharp gaze. “that doesn’t sound right.”

the air between you two feels like it’s crackling with tension. you swallow hard, knowing you can’t let him get too suspicious. “it’s really nothing, taesan. you know i wouldn’t lie to you about this.”

“you wouldn’t, huh?” taesan says slowly, his tone soft but with a dangerous edge. “then why didn’t you just tell me? why go through all this just to cover up some… coincidence?”

you flinch slightly at his words, the guilt gnawing at you. but you won’t break. you can’t spoil the surprise now. not when everything is so close to being perfect.

“i didn’t want to bother you with the details,” you say, hoping he buys it. “i just figured i’d spend some time with sungho, that’s all.” you glance at sungho for a moment, but he’s standing still, like he’s unsure whether to step in.

taesan watches you for a long beat, and you can see the wheels turning in his mind. his expression hardens. “so you thought it’d be better to lie to me, to sneak around?”

your chest tightens, the weight of his words sinking in deeper than you expected. “taesan, it’s not like that.”

“really?” taesan’s voice rises, a hint of frustration creeping in. “because that’s exactly what it sounds like. i don’t know, it’s just hard to believe that you’re not hiding something. are you trying to cover something up?”

you feel your heart race. this is spiraling out of control, and you don’t know how to stop it. the last thing you want is for him to think you’re doing something behind his back.

“taesan, please,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “you’re overthinking this. i didn’t want to tell you because i didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.” you force yourself to look him in the eye, trying to convey sincerity. “it’s nothing, really.”

taesan doesn’t respond right away. he’s still standing there, arms crossed, eyes cold as he studies you. you feel like he’s dissecting every word you’ve said, trying to figure out if you’re being honest or not.

“so what, this is all just some coincidence?” taesan asks again, voice dripping with doubt. “you just happened to be with sungho, and riwoo just happened to see you leaving together?”

you nod quickly, trying to sound convincing. “yeah, that’s it. it’s just a coincidence, taesan.”

taesan lets out a long breath, his frustration simmering just under the surface. he doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t push further. yet.

“you’re making this harder than it needs to be,” you say, trying to change the subject. “it’s nothing. seriously.”

taesan stays quiet, his eyes narrowing, still unconvinced. “i don’t know if i believe you, but fine. if you say so.”

there’s a moment of silence between you two, and you can almost feel the distance growing between you. you want to tell him the truth, but you can’t risk it. not yet.

“you didn’t need to lie to me, you know,” taesan says softly, his gaze softer but still guarded. “you could’ve just told me where you were. there wouldn’t have been any problem.”

“i know,” you say, your heart sinking. “but i didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

the moment you say it, you regret it. taesan’s eyes flash with confusion, but he doesn’t say anything. he just watches you, waiting.

“what surprise?” taesan asks, the suspicion back in his voice.

you hesitate, panic rising. you can’t tell him, not yet. not when you’re this close.

“it’s nothing,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “i just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

taesan’s gaze sharpens again. “you’re lying. i can tell.”

you want to scream, to tell him the truth, but you stay silent, your heart heavy with the pressure of it all.

“you’ve been hiding something from me, haven’t you?” taesan asks, his voice quiet now, as if he’s piecing everything together.

you look away, unable to meet his eyes. you can’t keep lying, but you can’t give in either. not yet.

“taesan, please,” you whisper. “just trust me. i don’t want to hurt you.”

he sighs, his expression softening just a little. “i trust you, but it’s hard when you keep lying to me. i just don’t get why you couldn’t tell me what was going on.”

you open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. your throat feels tight, and your mind is racing, trying to figure out how to get yourself out of this mess.

“i’m sorry,” you finally say, your voice barely audible. “i didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

taesan looks at you for a long moment, his face softening a bit. “it’s fine,” he says quietly. “but next time, just tell me. no more lies.”

you nod, relieved but still filled with guilt.

there’s a long silence, and then you finally reach into your bag and pull out the vinyl and the trinkets you picked out for him. you hold them out to him, your hands shaking.

“here,” you say softly, voice full of apology. “i got these for you. i… i thought you’d like them.”

taesan takes the items slowly, his expression unreadable. after a few moments, he looks up at you. “you didn’t have to do this,” he says, his voice softening. “but… thanks.”

you smile weakly, still feeling the weight of everything. “i’m sorry for making you mad.”

taesan sighs, stepping closer to you. “it’s okay. just promise me no more lies, alright?”

“promise,” you say quietly.

and for the first time in what feels like forever, the tension begins to melt away. taesan pulls you into a hug, and you let yourself relax, knowing that you’ll have to make things right.

but for now, you’re just grateful that he’s still here.

taesan is silent for a long time, just staring at the vinyls in his hands. his fingers trace over the covers, his expression unreadable.

you shift nervously, waiting for some kind of reaction. was this too much? was this not what he would’ve liked? sungho had assured you it was a good choice, but now, standing here with taesan’s gaze locked onto the gift, doubt creeps in.

“you really did all this for me?” taesan finally asks, voice quieter now.

you nod quickly. “of course i did. you just had a comeback, and i wanted to get you something that actually fit your taste. something you’d really like.”

he exhales slowly, his grip tightening around the vinyls for a second before he looks up at you. his expression has softened completely, the cold edge gone. instead, there’s something else… something warmer.

“you’re an idiot,” he mutters, but there’s no bite to his words. in fact, his lips twitch slightly, like he’s trying not to smile. “you could’ve just told me.”

“and ruin the surprise?” you huff, crossing your arms. “not a chance.”

taesan sighs, shaking his head. “you made me worry for nothing.”

“i didn’t mean to,” you mumble, guilt creeping back in.

he looks at you for another long second before stepping forward, wrapping his arms around you. his hold is firm, secure, like he’s grounding himself in your presence.

you blink, surprised at the sudden affection, but quickly melt into the embrace. his scent is familiar, and the warmth of his body makes all the stress from earlier fade.

“don’t do that again,” he mutters into your hair. “just tell me next time.”

you nod against his chest. “okay. i promise.”

he pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his dark eyes still holding a bit of lingering frustration. but it’s different now. less about suspicion, more about the fact that you worried him.

his eyes flicker to sungho, and his warmth disappears just slightly as he levels a glare at him. “and you,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

sungho raises his hands defensively. “hey, don’t look at me like that. i was just helping.”

“helping,” taesan repeats, clearly not convinced. “spending hours alone with y/n, keeping secrets, sneaking around.”

sungho rolls his eyes. “yeah, yeah, i get it. i’d be mad too. but it’s not like that.”

“doesn’t matter,” taesan grumbles, still glaring. “you still got too comfortable.”

you groan, tugging at his sleeve. “taesan, please. it’s not like we were on a date or something.”

taesan clicks his tongue but lets it go, instead looking back at the items in his hands. now that he’s actually processing it, his expression shifts, like he’s finally realizing what you got him, without the worry of why you were lying.

“wait,” he mutters, flipping it over. “this album… where did you find this?”

you grin. “special store sungho knew about. he helped me find the best ones.”

taesan pauses for a moment, then looks at you again, softer this time. “you really went through all this trouble just to get me something i’d like?”

you scoff. “of course i did. i love you, you idiot.”

his ears turn red. it’s subtle, but you notice it. he looks away, clearing his throat. “you’re the idiot,” he mumbles, gripping the vinyls like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “but… thanks.”

he pulls you into another hug, holding you tight, like he doesn’t want to let go.

and just like that, everything feels right again.

467 notes · View notes

marvelwitchergilmore · 8 months ago

Text

New Routine Comfort

Summary: Tyler Owens x Fe!Reader -> You work with the Tornado Wranglers and have done for a couple of years, but being newly single means you need to find a new routine and Tyler might just be the person to help.

Disclaimer: Mentions and appearance of a cheating asshole ex, Tyler and Reader are more co-workers than anything until that eventually changes..., swearing, love confessions, use of "Sweetheart" from the Cowboy Scientist, two-stepping, teaching to dance, mostly fluff, little angst, and the Cowboy Hat Rule (..kinda..) Not Proof Read.

When you joined the Tornado Wranglers, you joined at the request of Boone. They needed someone who could capture more footage than either him and Lily got and, since they had raised so much for families that had suffered from extreme tornado weather, they wanted to make it more permanent.

Which was where you came in. You could help with footage collection, fundraisers, social media pages, editing and a couple other things. The rest of the team helped where they could, but you managed it well.

However, this did mean that you didn’t see the team as much as you’d like save from the videos they sent you and the group chat Boone had added you into.

However, it was one night sitting in a local watering hole that you found yourself growing closer to one of the Wrangler’s in particular.

Tyler Owens.

There was a week here and there that you’d join the team storm chasing each season. Except, this year’s week of you joining them on the road couldn’t have fallen at a worse time.

“Please don’t tell me you’re gonna sit here all night drowning your sorrows in crappy beer?”

You shook your head. “I’m not.”

Boone tilted his head. “Oh, not the head tilt. Please.”

“Come on, Y/n. He was an asshole. Forget about him.”

“Little hard to forget when I was the one to walk in and catch them,” you looked back at your beer bottle. The label was practically torn to shreds from where you’d been scratching at it. “It’s like it’s burned into the back of my eyelids.” You took a long swig of your beer.

Just a little over two months ago, you’d watched as your relationship of three years burst into a ball of flames. You’d come home, smiling as you texted the Wrangler’s telling them the company you’d been pestering for a large donation that, with their track record, would put them out of pennies, had not only agreed to donate but also to host and bring all of their more-than-wealthy partners to the event.

Only, as you called through the door for your boyfriend, you heard a noise. Had he fallen?

Then you found the trail of clothes leading into the kitchen before another one made its way up the stairs towards your bedroom.

“Have you tried thinking of something else? Maybe watching a horror movie?”

You nodded. “Apparently finding your partner cheating on you in your own bed, and subsequently finding out they’d been doing that for over a year…is the scariest thing for me.”

“Well…screw him! He never deserved you! And you deserve a good night! And some decent beer.”

You gave a slight smile. “Boone. I like my drink.”

And it was true. You did.

You watched as he grimaced and picked up the other beer bottles. “Don’t know how you can drink that stuff.”

And away he went back to the dance floor with the others. And you turned back to your drink, your thumb still scratching away at the label.

An hour or so later, Tyler’s eyes found you in the crowd at the bar once more. He’d watched you all night. He’d watched you for the last two weeks if he was being completely honest with himself.

Since you joined the team, he saw you maybe for two weeks across the entire year. One week storm chasing, and the next seven days scattered throughout the rest of the year. But when he found out of Boone you’d be joining the team for most of the chasing season, something sparked inside of Tyler.

He was glad to have you aboard, of course. He might not have known that much about you, but he knew you well enough to know you joining the team for longer than a week meant something was wrong.

And once you arrived, it took him three days to finally figure out why.

“Are you sure she’s okay?”

Lily looked behind her, following Tyler’s gaze. Though, she could guess who it was. “Y/n? Oh, yeah. She’ll be fine. She’s hurtin’ right now, but she’ll be okay. Dude was an ass! Glad he’s gone.”

Tyler had met him only a handful of times but he could agree with Lily. He was an ass. An ass to you and an ass for letting you go.

But, as Tyler watched you, he saw something in you change. You’d gone from slouched on the bar stool to…alert. And nervous.

Confused, he followed the direction of your eye-line until he saw��

Him.

Stood with some blonde who couldn’t stop giggling into his chest as his arms were wrapped around her in such a way he was being possessive whilst trying to show her off.

And it was at that moment Tyler realised he wasn’t the only one watching you anymore. Because your ex had spotted you.

“No.” Dani and Boone told him as the bottom of his chair scraped the wooden floor. “No, let her handle this. She needs this.”

Tyler didn’t look convinced. So, Lily added.

“And if she’s not ready, then you can go. But they’re right. Let her handle it.”

So, reluctantly, Tyler sat back down. But he was itching to stand. He was itching to be at your side.

But you handled it.

Your ex approached you, and he seemed to make some kind of asshole comment about you. You didn’t seem pleased. Then everything about you…became fake.

One look around you made you realise there were plenty of people still left inside the bar. More than when you had entered with the team, even. If you caused a scene, you’d get kicked out. And your team would follow. But it had been a long week. They deserved a good night.

So you took it. You took his comments about smiling more, and setting him free and his thank yous for showing him he could have ‘something more with’ whoever the Blonde was waiting at the end of the bar for him.

And when he patted your arm, you could have thrown up. You never wanted him to touch you again. You’d told him as much when he tried to hug you, not ten minutes after being caught having sex with someone else.

And when he finally walked away…you wanted to run. But you had no energy left. Seeing him again zapped it all. You had been in love with him once, and believed he felt the same about you. All the memories of your relationship flashed behind your eyelids, before going back on themselves. The pictures told you of the lies he’d made in the last year you’d been with him.

Tyler watched as your entire body sighed before you started counting the cash in your pocket to leave for your bill.

Your ex didn’t get to ruin your night by being here. He didn’t get to take away your happiness, or your freedom to have fun in your bar.

“Okay, come on.”

You looked to your side and found Tyler stood there. He took your hand in his and dragged you with him.

“Tyler!”

“No, no.” Turning to face you as he finally reached the dance floor, he kept his eyes on yours. “He doesn’t get to take your night away. Fuck that asshole.”

“That’s my problem. I did fuck that asshole. And then he fucked someone else.”

“Then let him.” Tyler told you. “You deserved better than him, anyway. You still do. Do you know how to dance?”

You were in shock. You and Tyler were never exactly close. Sure, you’d talked over text, but that was mostly in the Group unless you needed to contact him directly for something about a fundraiser or an appearance at a school to help students when it came to Tornado warnings.

After a moment, you shook your head.

He gave a curt nod and stepped closer to you. “That’s okay. I can teach you. Is it okay if I put my hand here?”

You looked to see where he meant. It was around your back. You nodded.

“Okay, just keep your eyes on me. I’ll make sure you don’t trip.”

With one hand in his and your other on his arm, your eyes fell to the floor as you mirrored his steps. “I think you’re underestimating my two left feet.”

Tyler smiled with a small chuckle, and pulled you a little closer before tilting your chin up until your eyes met his. “Eyes on me, Sweetheart. I promise, I won’t let you trip. And nobody can be a worse dance partner than Boone.”

“You’ve danced with Boone?”

“Somebody had to teach him how to dance. I think my feet are still bruised.”

You smiled. “I’ll try and not make them worse.”

Tyler smiled as your eyes found his own, again. You were relaxing into the music. You were trusting him to take the lead. And before you knew it, the pair of you were two-stepping further into the dancefloor, a bright smile shared between the both of you.

Four songs, two line dances, and one group square dance later, you found yourself back in the comfort of Tyler’s arms as he held his hand out to you from where you had both sat down at the table.

With a nod and a genuine smile, you took hold of his hand and let him lead you towards the middle of the dancefloor. Tonight might have been the first time you’d both danced together, but somehow, it felt familiar. Routine. To be in his arms, to have his hand in yours, to have only him in front of your eyes and in your mind as you both softly danced to the slow song that played from the Jukebox Band on stage.

“Thank you,” you found yourself saying.

Tyler lifted his head from yours to look at you, and you did the same. “What do you mean?”

“I was about to go home. I would have spent the next twenty-four hours wanting to be alone and depressed. Instead, you did something else no-one has ever done.”

“And what is that?”

You felt yourself laugh a little. “Taught me to dance.”

Tyler’s mouth broke out into a smile before he took your hand and spun you around and back in. “You’re very welcome, but if I’m being honest, I might have had my own reasons. I need my own dance partner and, as much as I love the guy, Boone isn’t the most graceful.”

“So you’re calling me ‘graceful’? Have to say, that’s never been a word people have used to describe me.”

“Really?” Tyler sounded genuinely shocked. “All because you couldn’t dance?”

You felt a small blush heat under your cheeks. “Maybe I was in need of the right partner.”

Tyler felt himself blush. “Maybe you were. But I’d still call you graceful. I don’t know what people have described you as, but- if you don’t mind me saying.”

You shook your head. Coming from him, something in you didn’t mind a bit. In fact, you wanted to know.

“I think you’re so much more than whatever people tell you.”

When his gaze locked on yourself, you felt the rest of the room disappearing.

“You’re beautiful. In your mind, in your heart and in your soul.”

You could feel your heart beginning to race.

“Nobody should ever make you feel anything less than that. You’re an incredible human being, Y/n. We’re lucky to have you. I-”

Tyler felt the words catch in his throat. He didn’t want to scare you away. But he needed to tell you. He wanted to tell you.

“I’m lucky to have you.”

You smiled as you watched Tyler. He was one of the kindest men you’d ever met. Maybe he had a wild side, but that was what made him so good at his job. Beneath all of the adrenaline chasing, Tyler had a heart and soul unlike any other. He loved his team, his family, his job and his life.

Slowly, leaning up, you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m lucky to have you, too.”

Tyler smiled and slowly, the rest of the room started to fade back in, slowly.

“You should come out with us more. Who knows? You might just catch the bug for chasing Tornados?”

You smiled. “Boone has been trying to get me to come chasing for years. What makes you think I’ll change my mind now?”

Tyler smiled. “We’ll go out tomorrow. The data is showing a small EF-1. Just me and you. After all, you can’t stay in the van forever.”

Tyler could tell by your smile you were deliberating it.

“You know,” you started. “Boone isn’t going to be happy we’re chasing without him.”

Tyler smiled. You had agreed. “I’ll make it up to him.”

Your smile settled onto your face. “Okay then. But just this one.”

Tyler nodded as you both slowly turned around in a circle. “We’ll see.”

Two months later, you’d been more chases than you could count. That morning Tyler had taken you out in his truck, there was a chance you could have called him an asshole (in a slightly more affectionate term) as he drove towards the tornado.

You’d edited hours of footage but being the one in the passenger seat was something else.

But the minute you looked up and out of the window and back to him…something changed. Something changed between you and storm chasing. Something changed between you and your job. Something changed between you and Tyler.

Boone, once he’d been cleared of his hangover, wasn’t happy about being left out from a chase. But Tyler found a way to make it up to him. And since you left Boone to sit in the front for most of the chases, had you made it up to him, too.

Sometimes you’d stay in the truck with Dexter and Dani but it was becoming much more routine for you to sit in the back of Tyler’s truck as he drove into another tornado.

And on the rare opportunity. Boone would give you his seat beside Tyler in the truck. You’d get better pictures for socials that way. At least, that was his excuse. It definitely wasn’t to give the Live Feed viewers what they wanted, which was more of you and Tyler together.

But in those two months, things had just been…teetering. You knew you felt something for Tyler, but you were too scared to let your feelings known in case he didn’t feel the same. At the end of the day, you loved your job and the team. You didn’t want to give them up because of a school girl crush you had on the Cowboy Tornado Wrangler.

But the others saw the way Tyler looked at you, too. They’d seen it since he first met you. He never made a move considering you were in a relationship, but that didn’t stop his feelings from growing when he saw you or saw your name pop up on his phone.

And since you started actually chasing with him…he was a goner.

He looked at you like you hung the moon, and you looked at him in the exact same way. But apparently only the team and the comments section of the videos could see it.

“I can’t believe the season’s almost over.”

Tyler shook his head. “We’ve still got a month or so left.”

“I know, but…I’m really enjoying it.”

He smiled proudly. “Told you you’d catch the bug.”

You and Tyler, like every weekend, had found yourselves back in each other's arms on the dancefloor, two-stepping along to another song. And being back in his arms was like your two left feet had disappeared.

It might have also helped you’d both practised in your hotel rooms over the last couple of months. For the last month, you’d both been sharing a room since every motel that Boone and Lily found only seemed to have so many rooms left. And with the others bunking together, it left you and Tyler together.

“I got a call, by the way. A school just outside of Wichita is wondering if you and the team will come down and talk to the kids. Most of them have seen your videos, but a lot of them are scared and the city’s local ‘what to do in a Tornado’ has scared them all half to death.”

Somehow, Tyler had this magic about him. Whenever he and the team went into school to explain about Tornados, all the kids walked away a hell of a lot less scared than they were when they walked in. In fact, most of them walked away talking to their parents about meteorology and the science behind a Tornado.

“Of course we will.”

You smiled. “Good. Because I already said yes.”

He figured you might have done. “When do they want us there?”

“As soon as you're available.”

“We could go after this next chase? There might be an EF-3 in the next couple of days. I want to make sure people are safe.”

You nodded with a smile. “We can go after, then.”

Soon the song came to an end. “I’m gonna get a drink, want one?”

Tyler nodded as he let go of your hand and he went towards the team’s booth. “Please.”

Ordering your drinks, you waited for them to be ready. Only, as you did so, you felt the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. There was a familiar smell in the air and it made your entire skin crawl.

Then you saw him.

“Aren’t you meant to be in a mourning period or some shit?”

You were taken aback by his abruptness. “Excuse me?”

“We’ve been broken up for less than six months then I come in here and see you trying to flirt your way into some guy’s pants.”

“What? Like you and her over there? Tell me, is she the one from during me, or after me?”

“You bitch. She’s my girlfriend.”

“And that’s different?”

You ex stood straighter and hissed. “Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes. She’s my girlfriend. He’s just- What? You’re fuckbuddy?!”

Before you could answer, you felt a much more comforting presence behind you followed by his voice and a hat being placed on your head.

“Boyfriend, actually.”

You turned your head and looked at Tyler who just winked and you relaxed into his arm that laid across your shoulders.

“And I don’t appreciate you calling her a bitch.”

“How long have you been fucking him?!”

Then Tyler stepped in front of you. The hand on his back let him know he’d done the right thing.

“You’re done talking to her now. You’re gonna talk to me. Better yet, you’re gonna listen. The biggest mistake you ever made was thinking you could find anyone better than her. Now, I’m sure your girlfriend loves you very much and I think she came out here to enjoy her evening like everyone else and doesn’t want to be kicked out with her boyfriend who’s just been given a black eye.”

“Are you threatening me? You can’t threaten-”

Then Tyler’s voice lowered, making the conversation strictly between himself and your ex.

“The minute that hat touched her head, it let everyone know who she’s with and considering I know the owners here, them and everyone in this bar will protect her over some scumbag like you. And unless you’d like to spend a night in a cell with the County Sheriff, I suggest you and your girlfriend find some other place to have a drink and you never even think about my girl again. Do I make myself clear?”

One look around the bar to see if anyone else had seen or heard what had gone on let your ex know they had. And from the looks of the patron's faces, they were more than ready to defend both you and Tyler against the asshole standing in front of him.

“Whatever, Dude.” Walking away, he called out for his girlfriend, grabbed her hand and walked towards the door, constantly looking over his shoulder. Especially after one of the owners followed him out of the door and watched him load himself into his car.

Once the owner walked back inside and gave a curt nod to Tyler, everyone went back to normal and Tyler turned back around to face you.

“I’m sorry if-”

“Thank you.”

Tyler was expecting you to tell him off, or yell at him. Say something that made sure he knew never to do that again unless you asked.

“What-”

“Nobody has ever done that for me before and, if I’m being honest, I was 90% sure he would have done more than just yell at me whilst I was here. So, thank you.”

“I meant what I said. You should never let anyone make you feel less than what you are. You’re beautiful, Y/n. Inside and out.”

You smiled and turned towards one of the beer bottles that had been placed in between you and Tyler in order to hide the blush of your cheeks. “Nice touch, by the way. With the hat.”

There was a slight twinkle in Tyler’s eyes along with his semi-confused and intrigued look.

“You know about the hat?”

“You explained it to him, didn’t you?”

Then he realised. “Oh, yeah. Yeah. Right.” And nervously took a long swig of his own drink.

But then you removed it from your head. “You’re gonna want this back.”

And for a moment, Tyler held it in his hand, deliberating on what he wanted to do, vs what he should do.

He shook his head and handed it back to you. “Keep it. In case he thinks about coming back.”

“I don’t think he will.”

“Well, if he does. He’ll get the message.”

It took you a moment, but keeping your eyes on his, you placed the hat back on your head. Tyler swallowed another gulp of his drink and turned to face you before he fixed the hat on your head.

“Better?” You asked.

Tyler nodded as he looked away. He had to hide his blush somehow. “It suits you.”

Then the next song came on.

“Come on, let's dance.”

Taking Tyler’s hand, you dragged him back to the dancefloor.

By the end of the night, you all walked back towards the motel considering it was only a block or two away. Down the road, Lily and Boone were giving each other piggy-back rides, Dani was listening to Dexter talk about everything he knew about Tornados and where Tyler would usually be on his own at this point in the night, he found you right next to him, still wearing his hat.

“Careful.”

Tyler took your hand in his as he pulled you away from a deep puddle in the path.

“Thanks.”

When you’d both finally made it to dry concrete, your hand never left Tyler’s.

“What are you thinking about? You look like you’re in deep conversation with yourself under that hat.”

You broke into a small smile. “I am.”

“Then what is it?”

“Nothing important,” you shook your head.

“Try me.”

Looking at Tyler, you took in a breath and looked back at the sidewalk. “Okay. I’m thinking about what to do.”

“About what?”

You stopped in your tracks and looked at where your hand was interlinked with Tyler’s. Then you looked him in his eyes.

“I know you were just helping me before, with my ex and…everything. But…”

Shit. You cursed yourself over and over again. But you didn’t want to waste any more time in your life.

Just spit it out. You told yourself.

“Is..is there a world…maybe…where…” You took in a tough breath. “Where would you want something more?”

“Something more?”

You cursed yourself for a whole other reason now. You’d dug your grave this far. Might as well hope for it to collapse on top of you.

“Something more between…us?”

The next ten seconds were the longest ten seconds of your life. You were pretty sure you’d died three lifetimes over by the time you felt like you were back in your body again.

“You know what, forget I said-”

“Yes.”

You felt yourself physically stall. “What?”

“Yes. I want something more. There is a world where I want something more. And it’s this one.”

You didn’t know what to say. The others were long down the street so it was just you and Tyler.

“I…I don’t know what to say from here. I wasn’t expecting to actually say anything.”

Tyler smiled and stepped a little closer to you. “Well, I’m glad you did.”

“Where do we go from here?”

Tyler thought about it for a moment before looking around. “Come with me.”

Tyler dragged you back down the street, over the puddle and towards a small field just off the side of the road.

“Tyler, what are you doing?”

“Getting rid of the light pollution.”

You felt yourself laugh. “What for?”

He pulled you a little further out into the field before the lights faded away over the hedge and all you were left with was the blanket of stars above you and Tyler. And, being back in the comfort of his arms, he danced you around a small patch of wildflowers.

“Neither of us knew what to do, so I’m taking you on a date. Usually, we would have gone for dinner or I would have brought something with us but since we’ve done that part without knowing where we’d end up…I’m skipping to the end a little.”

“So you’re saying, for our first date, you would have packed a picnic and we would have gone stargazing? That’s…incredibly romantic.”

“Think it’s corny?” Tyler asked and then he laughed. “You think it’s corny.”

Your eyes narrowed a little. “Maybe. Just a little. But, I love it.”

There was no one else. It was just you and Tyler, dancing, under the stars.

“I do have one question, though.”

“Shoot.”

“Would you have kissed me at the end of the date? Would we have danced under the stars then and would you have kissed me?”

“Now who’s the corny one.”

You blushed a little and laughed. “I’m serious. I’d need to know if you were a good kisser. Couldn’t wear my cowboy’s hat and not enjoy kissing him, too. And before you say anything, I know that might not be the rule. But it does come as a part of mine.”

Tyler felt most if not all of his face turn red at the thought. When you had asked him in the bar…you already knew. He was glad there were no bright street lights surrounding either of you right now.

“Well, then, since you’re already wearing my hat…I can’t start breaking the rules now…”

With another smile, Tyler’s hand cradled your head as he pressed his lips to yours, letting his free hand hold you flush against him by the waist.

By the time he pressed a final small kiss to your lips, with his forehead against yours, you felt your lungs scratching your chest to breathe.

“Yep, definitely didn’t break any rules.”

Tyler let a chuckle leave his chest. “Come on, we should get back. Before the others start wondering where we got to.”

Boone and Lily had had too many beers to be left unsupervised. Last time Tyler had left either of them alone, they’d somehow chalked out an entire Tornado on the side of a motel wall. Even if it was exquisite, the motel owner wasn’t the happiest of people to see it.

“Okay. But we’re doing this again.”

“What? The date, the kiss or the dancing?”

“All of the above.”

Tyler smiled and reached down, lifting his hat from the ground before placing it back on your head. “Good, because I wasn’t finished.”

With a smile that hurt your cheeks, Tyler took your hand in his and you both hurried your way back down the road, over the puddle and towards the motel where you both found Boone and Lily playing a very terrible version of hide-and-seek.

But something that neither missed was the way yours and Tyler’s hands were intertwined between you both, or that in the morning and the mornings after, you and Tyler rarely left each other's side.

And neither of you had to be pushed to share a room.

It became a routine. Along with the dancing, kissing and storm chasing.

And when the third teacher hit on him at the elementary school he was talking at, despite you finding it a little funny watching him try and shut down each woman with kindness that left them just wanting him more, he proved his point in front of the faculty and his team (even if they already knew) by giving you the millionth kiss of a lifetime from him, with his hat upon your head.

691 notes · View notes

starlightkun · 6 months ago

Text

⇢ word count: 16.3k ⇢ genre: fluff, college au, brother's best friend trope, christmas/holiday themed, baseball player!jisung, rich kids!reader and chenle, part of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon ⇢ warnings: chenle and reader are annoying as hell together lol (they love each other but would die before saying ily), everyone’s parents suck!, only minor proof-reading bc i wanted to post for christmas, FAKE pro baseball players mentioned (idk anything abt baseball and was not going to research any real baseball players and be wrong abt them ok) ⇢ extra info: this is part of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon, three short, unrelated fics starring jisung all with cheesy hallmark christmas movie-esque premises. there’s no continuing plotline between fics in this series, they’re all standalone fics ⇢ author’s note: ok so this one isn’t exactly “short” but as always, i got carried away. im just happy i got this one out in time and it didn’t end up being 20k+ lmao. anyway, this is my last fic of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon, and of 2024, and i hope you guys had as much fun reading them as i did writing them! happy holidays and i will be back with even more fics in 2025! ⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon

“I know what you’ve been trying to do this whole time. You’re not ‘very into baseball,’ you’re into Jisung.”

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 20

Clicking the ‘submit’ button for your last final paper of the semester, you let out a sigh of relief. You were done, for now. The time in the corner of your laptop read 10:58 p.m. You’d submitted with an hour to spare. Usually, you hated cutting it so close, but four of your five classes this semester had assigned fifteen-page papers, and you wanted to take your time researching, outlining, drafting, and editing all of them before the deadlines.

There were only a few other students scattered around the library so late on the last academic day of the semester. One table away from you was another student, a boy who had also been hard at work on his laptop for the greater part of the past four hours. You had seen him around campus, not in any meaningful way, but enough that his face was familiar to you. And tonight, you had been stealing glances at him—when he let out a groan or a sigh that rang a little too loud in the dead silence, pushed his hoodie off his head to reveal his dark hair and handsome features, or stood up from his chair to go to the vending machine around the corner and walk around the library to stretch his obscenely long legs. Yeah, you’d done a bit of ogling, you also needed a break every now and then.

He was still typing away at his laptop when you had packed up for the night and were heading out, your path taking you right by his table. You were never usually this bold, but maybe it was the rush from finally being done with finals week, or how late it was, but you found yourself stopping next to the end seat the cute boy was occupying.

Upon realizing that you were there, he looked at you with wide, uncertain eyes, slowly taking his headphones off. “Hm?”

“Are you going to be here till closing?” You asked him knowingly, a playful smile on your lips and bag of gummy candy in your hands. You had bought it during a vending machine break earlier in the night but never ended up opening it.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m hoping only another thirty minutes…”

“Here.” You offered the candies out to him. “I’m done for the night.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You set them down next to his laptop. Not wanting to take up any more of his waning time left to submit his assignment, you started off towards the exit again. “Good luck. Have a good break.”

“You too…”

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 21

“You didn’t get his number?!” Your roommate gasped in horror after you told her about the cute guy from the library. She had been asleep when you got home last night, and now the two of you were packing in preparation for your respective winter break plans. Sooyoung was heading back home while you and your brother would be driving to meet your parents at your family’s winter house in the mountains.

“Or his name,” you confirmed sadly. “I mean, the poor guy only had an hour left of the semester to submit whatever he was working on, there was no way he would’ve wanted me wasting it.”

“You have got to find him when we get back.”

“I’ll try,” you agreed.

There was a long honk from outside your dorm, and you rolled your eyes before peering out your window. Sure enough, your brother’s sleek black SUV was outside.

“Alright, I’ll see you in two weeks, Soo.” You hugged your roommate goodbye. Before you could even grab your bag, there was another obnoxiously long honk, followed by a series of shorter honks.

You immediately videocalled your brother.

Chenle picked up, already complaining. “Y/N, hurry up! You always take forever—”

“Shut the fuck up!” You retorted, flipping off the camera. “You’re so fucking annoying, I swear to—”

He laid on the horn again, and you could hear complaints start up outside from other people yelling at him to shut the fuck up. Then, you swore you heard another voice in Chenle’s car, quietly suggesting that he stop, but it was too indistinct for you to properly identify.

“Who was that?” You squinted at him suspiciously.

“I told you I was bringing a friend—”

“I know, I meant which one?”

“Get your slow ass down here and find out, or we’re leaving you!” With that, he hung up.

You pocketed your phone with a quiet scream, then turned to your roommate. “Ugh! Can you believe we’re related?”

“Yes,” she answered immediately, not even looking at you.

Hauling your stuff downstairs by yourself, you were a little out of breath by the time you shoved the front door of your dorm open. Your duffel bag started slipping down your shoulder, and as you readjusted that, you weren’t even looking out for the uneven slab of concrete that you knew stuck up in front of the entrance. Your toe caught on it, and you let out an unfortunate ‘eep!’ as you tripped forward. Your bag slid off your shoulder again, catching on your elbow and swinging around, the weight making you stumble a little more. You stayed upright, and you were thankful that only your brother and his friend saw all that. Yeah, Chenle was going to tease you for the entire three-hour car ride, and Mark or whoever was coming with would definitely get in on the ribbing, but you had plenty of dirt on them too. It was the natural order of things.

“Clumsy ass,” Chenle yelled at you from the car, the driver’s side window rolled down. You flipped him off on instinct. “Jisung, go help her before she hurts herself.”

Jisung. That was a new one. Admittedly, you didn’t know all of your brother’s friends, you two ran in different circles at school. You were usually introduced them in passing if you happened to run into each other at events, or some you knew from before college, like Jeno and Jaemin, the twins who lived next door to you guys growing up, or Mark and Donghyuck, who you all went to high school with.

A car door opened and closed before a tall figure was walking around the front of the car to meet you on the sidewalk. You blinked in surprise as you recognized Chenle’s friend that was approaching you, and not because of your brother. The cute boy from the library was standing in front of you, seemingly having a similar sense of déjà vu as he froze, hand already outstretched, reaching for your duffel bag.

“Hey again,” you chuckled, putting your bag strap in his hand. “Did you get everything turned in on time?”

“Yeah, I did.” Jisung unfroze and smiled at you, and you swore the sun seemed dim in comparison. “Thanks for the candy, by the way. Completely forgot to tell you that.”

“It’s okay, you were busy.”

“I’m Jisung, by the way.”

You nodded towards your brother’s car. “I had guessed.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Right.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“I had guessed,” he quipped back.

Chenle honked again, then yelled, “Come on!”

You rolled your eyes. “Pain in the ass.”

Chenle popped the trunk for you from his seat, and Jisung put your duffel bag in among their things that were already packed, then he took your suitcase to put away as well. As you opened the passenger door, your brother immediately shook his head.

“Nuh-uh.”

“What?” You looked at him incredulously. “I always get shotgun!”

“And Jisung gets carsick in the backseat.” He pointed at the boy standing awkwardly behind you. “I’m not having him puke all over my car. You’ll survive the backseat for once.”

Hating his condescending tone, but with no other option, you graciously stepped aside. Jisung gave you a quiet ‘sorry, thanks’ as he opened the back door for you. After buckling yourself into the middle seat and Chenle starting his music, everyone was ready to go.

“Y/N, Jisung,” Chenle made introductions over his shoulder, jabbing his thumb between you two. “Jisung’s on the baseball team and was in my bio lab last semester. Y/N is my annoying little sister.”

You kicked the back of his seat. “By ten months. As soon as you popped out, Mom and Dad were so disappointed they immediately decided to have another kid.”

“Regret saying yes yet, Jisung?” He asked his friend smugly.

Jisung, meanwhile, had been staring straight ahead at the road, clearly feeling uncomfortable as he didn’t want to get in the middle of your typical bickering.

“Ignore him, Jisung.” You leaned forward between their seats over the center console, your tone much more friendly. “So you’re on the baseball team? Do you have an athletic scholarship or something?”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” he answered hurriedly. “Uhm, it’s the only way I could afford to go here. Full ride as long as I keep my grades up.”

You all did go to a rather expensive private university—your parents were alumni, they wouldn’t have sent you anywhere else, of course.

“Wow, so you must be really good, then.”

“I mean, I don’t know—”

“A full ride, I would think they only give those out to the best players, right?”

“Well—”

Chenle cut in, “You’re making him nervous, Y/N. Back up, for fuck’s sake.”

You didn’t back up. “Am I making you nervous, Jisung?”

“No, it’s fine,” he rushed to reassure you, finally turning around in his seat to face you. He let out a squeak as soon as he did, probably not anticipating that you’d be as close as you were. He sat back in his seat, propping himself up against his seatback on his forearm. “Uhm, it’s just that this is only gonna be my second season. Still a rookie, you know. I don’t think I’m that good.”

Jisung sort of reminded you of a little hamster when he was nervous like this, and your lips twitched with amusement. He really was cute.

“When’s baseball season?”

“Practice officially starts in January, first game’s in February.”

“Don’t you get cold out on the field?”

He shrugged self-consciously. “I mean, we’re moving around a lot. And we have hand warmers and stuff for when we’re on the bench.”

You kept eagerly asking him questions. “What position do you play?”

“Pitcher. I’m a switch pitcher—I can pitch left or right-handed—so they like that.”

“So it’s a surprise for the other team?”

“No, you have to declare which hand you’re going to pitch for each batter beforehand,” he admitted, then quickly tacked on, “But it still kinda throws them off!”

You hummed thoughtfully. “What about when you’re hitting the ball?”

“I could do either, but I prefer my right.”

“You’re never this interested in my friends,” Chenle interrupted accusatorily.

“Because I already know like, way too much about the twins, Hyuck, and Mark. Wish I could unlearn some of it, actually,” you snorted. “And you’ve been trying to get me into sports for our whole lives. What’s the problem?”

“Basketball,” your brother corrected you. “I’ve been trying to get you to watch basketball with me. Jisung plays baseball. Wrong sport.”

“Stop talking to me like I’m five,” you snapped, kicking his seat again.

“Stop kicking my seat like a five-year-old and I might,” he retorted.

You scowled at the back of his big head.

“I can see you pouting in the rearview mirror.”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, flopping back against your seat.

“Saw that too.”

“Wasn’t trying to hide it!” You snipped back childishly. Turning your focus back to Jisung, who was looking out the passenger window, you asked, “Is he like this to you, Jisung?”

“Don’t answer that,” Chenle directed him before the other boy could open his mouth. “She’ll tire herself out.”

“Oh, you’re insufferable!” You spat. “Talking about me like I’m not even here! Or like I’m Daegal!”

“Well, Daegal is actually trained.”

“Pull the car over, I’m going to beat your ass!”

“Hey!” Surprisingly, it was the soft-spoken Jisung who raised his voice over the sounds of you two fighting, shocking both of you into silence. He continued, “Chenle, you’ve been antagonizing Y/N ever since we pulled up in front of her dorm, man. Then you act like she’s crazy for being pissed off at you. It’s honestly pissing me off.”

Chenle huffed loudly, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel, before he finally said, “Fine. Sorry, Y/N.”

“Yeah, whatever. Thanks for apologizing because Jisung told you to.” You unbuckled and scooted over to the seat behind Jisung, buckling back in and looking out the window at the scenery rushing by.

The car was silent other than Chenle’s music, which he turned up as you pulled out your phone.

[you: i found out cute library guy’s name]

[soosoo: omfg the cia has nothing on u]

[soosoo: SPILL]

[you: i didn’t stalk him, turns out he’s my brother’s friend. his name is park jisung and he’s on the baseball team]

[soosoo: your brother’s friend that you’re going to be ALL ALONE WITH in the mountains for the next TWO WEEKS???]

[you: not ALL ALONE, chenle will be there, remember?]

[soosoo: unfortunately]

[soosoo: WAIT i found him on the team’s roster online and WHEW GIRL]

[soosoo: attached image.]

It was a screenshot of Jisung’s athlete profile on the university’s sports page. The small ID photo he had on there honestly did him no justice.

[soosoo: how is ur brother always friends w the HOTTEST GUYS who ALSO PLAY SPORTS????]

[soosoo: i need him to hook me up fr]

[you: don’t tell me ur thinking abt jeno and jaemin rn]

[soosoo: always]

[you: u don’t need chenle to hook u up if u rlly want, im friends with them too??]

[soosoo: YOU WOULD????]

[you: but you’d have to pick one]

[soosoo: god i am not your strongest soldier]

[you: exactly what i thought]

At the mountain cabin, you three were the first ones there, of course. You parents wouldn’t be arriving until Christmas Eve due to their work schedules. The house was already decorated like something straight out of a Hallmark movie—lights, red and green bows, candy canes, baubles, and other decorations all throughout.

“Wow,” Jisung breathed out, stopping in the foyer and turning around, his eyes wide as he took it all in. “Your parents are really into Christmas, huh?”

“Not really.” You had also stopped to watch his slow circle of awe. “They pay somebody to set it up.”

The wonder dropped off his face and was replaced with confusion, his brow furrowing. Chenle yelled for him from further in the house, and you jerked your head for him to follow. Your brother was at the threshold of the hallway where all your rooms were located.

“Yours is there,” Chenle pointed Jisung to one end of the hallway as you slipped by him to head to the bedroom at the other end. “Y/N’s is on the other side.”

“We share a bathroom,” you called over your shoulder as you opened the door. “Don’t use all the hot water in the morning!”

“And I’m upstairs.” Your brother indicated to a small ladder between Jisung’s room and the bathroom in the middle. “I got the loft. Won it in rock-paper-scissors almost two decades ago.”

“You cheated!” You reminded him loudly from where you had started unpacking your things in your room.

“Sore loser!”

“Sore winner!”

“Anyway, holler if you need something.”

You were still unpacking when there was a soft knock at your open door. It was Jisung leaning in your doorway.

“Hey,” he greeted you quietly.

“Hey.” You smiled at him brightly. “Bathroom’s the middle door. We both have doors that connect to it, so knock before we go in? Even if the light is off?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Jisung continued silently watching you unpack, then finally blurted out, “You egg him on.”

“Huh? Who?”

“Chenle.” He held his hands up in front of him defensively as you opened your mouth. “I know he started everything back in the car, but you didn’t help.”

You sat back on your feet in front of your open suitcase and dresser drawers. “Yeah, I know I’ve got a temper problem. I need to work on it.”

“I didn’t say anything in front of him because I kind of got the feeling that he was being extra mean because I was there.”

“When we’re hanging out with friends that we kinda share, like Jeno and Jaemin or whoever, it’s fine. You know, they met both of us at the same time. But I think when we’re with people that are his friends, it’s different,” you explained, gesturing to an armchair in the corner for Jisung to sit in while you talked. “We were always in the same grade and stuff, so obviously people assumed we were twins. That’s also why he really gets on the ‘little sister’ thing. When we got to college, we were both relieved to finally be different people, you know? Have different friends, different things that were ours.”

“You seem to understand him really well.”

“Known him my whole life,” you pointed out. “And just because I understand why he acts like this doesn’t mean it still doesn’t piss me the fuck off.”

“To answer your question from the car, no, he doesn’t treat me like that. He’s sarcastic, sure, but not like that.”

Zipping up your empty suitcase, you started on your duffel bag that was on your bed. “Sorry you had to deal with us like that, even more so that you had break us up. I’m sure the next two weeks were flashing before your eyes, huh?”

“Honestly, I’m just glad you didn’t actually start beating him up,” he chuckled.

“Me too, that would’ve been embarrassing.” You added, “For him. To get his ass beat in front of one of his buddies.”

He looked out the room down the hallway, checking to see if Chenle was coming, then admitted, “Don’t tell him, but I was sort of calculating how many swings to let you get in before it would look unreasonable for me to not intervene.”

“Oh really? And how many would you have ‘let me’ have?” You grinned, using finger quotes over ‘let me.’

“One good punch and a hair pull, I think.” He looked to be sizing you up, a teasing glint in his eye. “You seem like you fight dirty like that.”

“Could claim you didn’t want to hurt your friend’s little sister, let me get a few more in.” You mimicked punching and kneeing the air. “At least let me knee him in the balls.”

“I’ll consider it in the event you two do actually brawl while we’re here.”

You looked up at the ceiling, thinking about your brother up there somewhere. “Eh, we’ll make up properly soon. One thing about us, we fight a lot, but it’s never for that long.”

“Okay, now I’m worried about the next two weeks.”

You laughed, maybe a little harder than his joke warranted, but you couldn’t help it—he was cute, he was funny, and he was making your chest feel tighter and your head spin faster the longer you were around him.

“Why are you in here?” Chenle had appeared in your doorway, looking genuinely perturbed at the visage of Jisung sitting in your chair.

“Because we’re talking?” You answered for him. “Or is he only allowed to talk to you while he’s here and I have to take a vow of silence?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he snickered, walking in and flopping on your bed.

“You first.”

“You want to do lunch in town then get the tree?” He checked the time on his phone. “Mom and Dad know how much you like Christmas tree shopping so that’s the only thing not done.”

“Or is it just another responsibility to pawn off on someone?” You snorted, opening the door into the adjoining bathroom to put your toiletry bag away.

Your brother’s distant voice called after you, “Even if it is, we can still have fun!”

You took a deep breath, and came out of the bathroom with a smile on your face. “You’re right. Let’s do it.”

“Ew, stop that, it’s creepy.” Chenle threw a pillow at you.

You caught it and chucked it right back at him. “What? Smiling?”

It hit him in the face before falling to the floor. “Yeah, exactly. I’m done trying to cheer you up, keep being a little Grinch, it suits your face better.”

You climbed on the bed and grabbed a pillow to smack him with it. “Quit being fucking rude!”

He laughed and cackled, rolling away from your pillow attack until his eyes went wide with panic as he went right over the edge of the mattress and landed on the floor. It was your turn to burst into laughter at the sound he made, and when he started groaning and complaining, you knew he was fine. Jisung was also laughing from his seat.

You finally gathered yourself enough to peer over the edge of the bed, looking down at where Chenle was sprawled out dramatically like a cartoon character that had been crushed by an anvil. As soon as he looked at you, he started giggling too.

“What about this one?” Mr. Song, the elderly man who had run the Christmas tree farm in town for as long as your family had been coming for the holidays, was showing you around to the various trees they had for sale.

“Ah, too skinny.” You shook your head. “We have a lot of ornaments. And a vaulted ceiling too, so we can get a taller one.”

“Right, of course. How could I forget?” His eyes crinkled fondly as he walked you around by the elbow. “You and your brother have gotten so big, Y/N. I remember when you two were up to my knee. Always playing hide and seek in the trees.”

“We used to think you were Santa Claus,” you giggled, gesturing to his big, bushy beard. “We told everyone we knew that we got our Christmas tree from Santa every year.”

“Good to see that Chenle and your boyfriend get along so well.” He nodded to where Chenle and Jisung were throwing snowballs at each other. More accurately, Jisung was pelting them at Chenle with scary precision, and Chenle was doing his best to throw some back in between peals of laughter.

“Oh, Jisung is Chenle’s friend from school, he’s not my boyfriend,” you clarified quickly.

“My mistake.” Mr. Song patted your arm.

After circling the next one Mr. Song showed you, you were content, inspecting how dense the branches were, the height, and general shape.

“Guys!” You yelled out to get Chenle and Jisung’s attention. They ceased their (unfair) battle, meandering over to you. “What do you think?”

Chenle gave it a once-over before nodding. “Great pick as always, Y/N.”

“Is that going to fit through the front door?” Jisung asked skeptically, trying to fit his arms around it to gauge the size.

“It will,” you promised as Chenle pulled out his checkbook.

Two of Mr. Song’s grandsons brought the tree up to the cabin in their truck, and you had to open both front doors all the way for them to carry it in. They got it set up in the corner for you, and you sent them on their way with an extra cash tip.

“We’ve got to let the branches settle before we can decorate it,” you advised Jisung. “So we’ll do that tomorrow.”

“Y/N’s got a whole thing about the tree,” Chenle added from one of the couches, turning the TV on.

“Smells nice,” Jisung piped up.

“Did your family have real trees or artificial ones?” You asked, taking up the other couch.

Jisung seemed to momentarily panic about where to sit, before taking the empty space at the end of Chenle’s couch, facing you. “A fake one. It came with the lights already on. Easier for my mom to set up.”

“One or two?” Chenle asked abruptly.

“What?”

“Two!” You answered, and Chenle immediately played a movie from whatever streaming service he was scrolling through. You went to fill Jisung in, “It’s a game we like to play. One of us will assign numbers to things in our head without telling the other, and you have to reply with a number without really knowing what you’re picking.”

“I couldn’t decide which movie to watch,” Chenle added.

“So, instead of a coin flip, you used Y/N?” Jisung clarified.

“Sort of. You can do it for more than two options. Like…” You tilted your head back and forth as you tried to think of one on the spot. As soon as you had, you perked up. “One, two or three?”

“Three?”

“Hot chocolate it is.” You stood up from the couch and headed towards the kitchen.

Jisung turned in his seat to keep you in his eyesight. “Wait, what were the options?”

“That’s part of the fun.” You smiled. “Sometimes you never know.”

A few minutes later, you came back into the room with three mugs of hot chocolate, and handed one each to Chenle and Jisung before sitting back on your couch.

Several movies, rounds of various video games, and large pizzas later, you were beat. Standing up from your couch, you stretched and started grabbing everyone’s plates.

“I’ll get these if you guys put the food away?”

Chenle gave you a thumbs-up, his eyes locked on his phone screen.

“Night!” You tossed back over your shoulder as you traipsed out of the room.

“Night!” Your brother echoed.

“Goodnight!” Jisung replied.

As soon as you were bundled up in your blankets in your room, you videocalled Sooyoung. She picked up, the familiar scenery of her childhood bedroom in the background.

“Hey!” She beamed. “How was day one? Kill Chenle? Make any moves on cute library guy?”

“We know his name now, Soo!” You laughed.

“But a nickname is so fun and mysterious!”

“I did almost kill Chenle in the first ten minutes of the car ride,” you groaned. “Jisung surprisingly came to my defense.”

“Your brother’s friend took your side against him? Wow…”

“He’s really sweet, he’s making an effort to be my friend too.”

“Friend? Or something else?” She waggled her eyebrows.

“I don’t know, it’s been one day,” you giggled, rolling over onto your back. “Anyway, how’s your family?”

You stayed up chatting for another hour before finally going to sleep, giddy with thoughts of what could happen tomorrow.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 22

In the morning, with no alarm for class to get you up, you woke up, rolled over, and went back to sleep several times. Eventually, you decided that it was time to get up, and slowly shuffled out of your room. Chenle was already up, by the stove cooking something. Jisung was nowhere in sight, probably still sleeping.

Upon hearing your footsteps, he looked over his shoulder. “Morning.”

You grunted back.

“Mom called.”

You made another noise of acknowledgment, still rubbing sleep out of your eyes as you lumbered over to your seat at the table. Your brother set a plate of pancakes down in front of you, and you squinted up at him suspiciously. Typically he would’ve made you get your own plate, or more likely, make your own food. Actually, it was kind of weird that he was up before you. He must not have gone back to sleep after talking to your mom. It wasn’t unusual for her to have called early in the morning—your parents’ work took them all around the world, and often the only free time they could find had them calling at odd hours.

“They’re not going to make it for Christmas, Y/N,” he told you softly, still standing next to your chair.

“Of course,” you scoffed, lip curling with distaste as you picked up your fork.

“They’ll be here on the 26th, and we can do everything with them then.”

“Are they staying for New Year’s?”

His silence was all the answer you needed.

“Of course,” you repeated with more venom in your tone than before, dropping your utensil back down onto the table. “What the fuck else should we have expected? Honestly, why do they even fucking bother?”

He put a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“No, Chenle, don’t apologize for them.” You patted his hand. “It’s not your fault.” Pushing your chair back, you stood up. “I’m not hungry right now. I’m going out back.”

“I’ll save your plate.”

Shoving boots on your feet and pulling a heavier coat on, you opened the door in your bedroom that led directly out onto the back patio. It had snowed last night, so you had to shuffle through the fresh layer to get to the swing seat back here. The cold morning air bit at your nose and cheeks, and you tucked your hands into your pockets to keep them warm—you’d forgotten gloves. Sighing, you watched your breath fog up in front of your face, until your tears overtook your vision and you couldn’t see anything past them.

You pulled your knees to your chest on the porch swing, pushing your face into the thick material of your pajama pants. Why did it still hurt so bad? They did this all the fucking time.

The sound of feet crunching snow came to your ears, and you wiped at your face as you looked up at who was approaching you. It was Jisung, two steaming mugs in his gloved hands.

“Uhm, Chenle said you weren’t hungry. Does cider count?” He offered one out to you.

You chuckled, accepting it, grateful to have something warm to wrap your chilly fingers around. “No, it doesn’t. Thanks, Jisung.”

“It’s pretty out here,” he commented, looking around at the scenery. “Or not, if you want me to go back inside.”

You laughed again, gesturing to the empty half of the porch swing next to you. “You can stay.”

Jisung brushed off the snow from the rest of the porch swing before sitting down. He wedged his mug of cider between his legs and you watched him curiously as he started taking his gloves off. He offered them out to you, making you shake your head.

“I’m fine, I’ve got the cider—”

“So do I.”

“Then how about this.” You plucked one glove from him and put it on your right hand, which was holding the handle of the mug. Your left cradled the body of the mug, where all the warmth was. “Glove goes on the colder hand.”

He chuckled, slipping his remaining glove on his left, and wrapping his right hand around the mug. “Innovative.”

“Thank you.”

The smile faded as he turned more somber. “I’m sorry to hear that your parents’ plans changed.”

You took a sip of the cider, staring out at the still landscape of snow-covered trees and mountains. “Me too. You think I would be used to it by now.”

“Chenle was talking about maybe going to this ice-skating place later. If you’re feeling up to it.”

“That’s what’s nice about having him. No matter how much stupid shit we fight about, we’ve at least got each other when they do stuff like this.” You half-smiled to yourself. “You know, sometimes I think they did that on purpose. Had two kids instead of one so they wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving us alone all the time.”

The tears had come back, and you wiped at them with your bare hand, not wanting to soil Jisung’s glove that he had given you. Shaking your head at yourself, you said derisively, “I’m sure I seem pathetic to you. Rich girl crying in her family’s winter vacation home because mommy and daddy won’t make it for Christmas.”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic.”

You turned your gaze to Jisung to find him already looking at you, so sincerely, too. Swallowing down more tears, you asked, “Why aren’t you home with your family? I’m sure you’d much rather be with them than stuck here with us.”

“My parents are divorced. Every year, my dad and his wife go on some cruise for Christmas, and my mom spends it with my stepdad’s family. They say I’m welcome there, but they’re all strangers, except my mom.” He shrugged half-heartedly, blowing across the surface of his cider. “I know it’s kinda my fault too, I’m not making an effort to get to know them or whatever. But I just… don’t want to.”

“How’d you end up coming along with Chenle then?”

“Last year I stayed at school for Winter Break. Met Chenle in the spring, and when Winter Break plans came up this year, he was appalled at the idea of me eating at the dining hall for Christmas dinner.” Jisung chuckled, and you smiled fondly, able to imagine your brother’s horrified face. “It wasn’t even an offer, he decided for me.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here instead of eating dining hall food by yourself.”

“Me too.”

“And I’m sorry your parents suck too.”

“Shitty parents club.” He held his mug out to you.

You clinked your against it in a commiserative toast. “We need Chenle out here for our full membership.”

“Yeah, but this swing only fits two people…”

You smiled a little as you sipped your cider. “Then I guess it’s just us for right now.”

Jisung smiled back. “Guess so.”

That afternoon, as promised, you three went ice skating. The local nature reserve had a lake that always froze solid, and would rent out ice skates and sell hot chocolate and other treats to earn a little extra income—free admission if you brought your own skates. You were the first one to get your skates on, and shuffled onto the frozen lake excitedly. There were a few other people out here—couples, families, groups of friends—but the area cordoned off for ice skating was big enough that everyone had plenty of room to spread out. A wide smile immediately spread across your face. Chenle knew you well, which was a blessing and a curse. He knew exactly how to push your buttons and cheer you up.

Speaking of, your brother smoothly skated up next to you, smug look on his face. “Better?”

“With a head that big, I’d hope you’d have a good idea every so often,” you teased, lightly bopping him through his beanie.

“Ungrateful.” He snapped one of your earmuffs against your head, not hard enough to hurt.

You two had been milling back and forth waiting for Jisung, and you looked back over at the bench where you’d all been tying up your skates to find him still sitting there, fiddling with the laces.

Chenle followed your gaze. “What is he doing? He had them tied when I got up, I thought he was right behind me.”

You shrugged, exiting the ice to stop in front of Jisung on the bench. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just—” Jisung swallowed, squinting and scrunching up his nose nervously. “I’ve only been ice skating once, and I was a kid, so…”

“You don’t know how,” you finished.

“I mean—Yes.”

“Come on.” You offered out your arm out to him.

He waved his hands as he refused. “I’m going to do something stupid like fall and end up breaking your arm or—”

“No, it’ll be fine,” you assured him. “Seriously, I did ice skating lessons as a kid.”

“You did?”

“You’re in good hands, I promise.”

Jisung grabbed your arm, and using both you and the bench as leverage, stood up. He looked around warily as you patted his back.

“There you go, you got it. Now, you get to walk until you get to the ice.” As you coached him through the basics of operating his skates, you slowly guided him closer to the edge of the ice. You stepped onto the ice first, keeping a hold on both of his gloved hands for him to cautiously join you, one foot at a time.

“You didn’t think to tell us you’ve never skated?” Chenle questioned dryly as he joined you two.

“I have!” Jisung defended himself. “Once…”

“Well Y/N can teach you,” he offered you up. “She used to do lessons, till she got kicked out.”

“Wait, for what?”

You rolled your eyes at your brother just having to bring that up. Nudging Jisung forward to start moving his legs, you began relaying the story, “I called my coach a bitch to her face and refused to apologize.”

“Just because or…?”

“First of all, I was seven, so impulse control wasn’t even in my vocabulary. Second of all, she called another little girl in the class fat to her face! She had just gotten a new competition dress, it was this really pretty purple one with sparkles and stuff all over it, and the teacher told her she shouldn’t wear it because something about the pattern made her look bigger or something ridiculous. A seven-year-old! She’s just lucky she didn’t get an ice skate to the face!” Your rant picked up steam and volume as you continued, feeling freshly pissed off as you recalled the incident.

Jisung frowned, looking troubled as well. “That’s awful.”

“I know! Honestly, I’m glad I got kicked out. I hated that woman.” You pulled him away from a divot in the ice. “Watch out. Don’t want your blade getting caught in that.”

“Thanks. You seem to have retained a lot.”

“I didn’t get very far before I was booted,” you scoffed. “But I guess we still went to rinks and out here pretty frequently, so I haven’t lost the basics, at least.”

“So are we decorating the tree later?”

“Yep, should take the rest of the day.”

“Seriously?”

“We’ve got a lot of ornaments.” You snickered at his wide eyes, looking to your other side where Chenle had been skating for confirmation. Instead, your brother had disappeared. Confused, you scanned the figures on the ice, finally spotting him far ahead of you, skating backwards at an impressive speed. “He left us.”

Jisung finally detached his eyes from where they’d been glued on his feet, chuckling when he saw Chenle as well. “He’s not very patient, is he?”

“Not a virtue he was born with, no.” You turned your attention back to Jisung. “Think you’re getting the hang of it?”

His grip tightened on your arm. “If I say yes, are you going to let go of me?”

“No,” you laughed. “Not until you’re ready.”

“Oh, thank God.”

“But let’s try this.” You moved to hold both his hands, skating backwards in front of him. “Okay?”

“You can’t see behind you,” he said, nervously glancing between your face and over your shoulder.

You checked over your shoulder. It was clear, and you redirected your path to make sure you weren’t heading directly at the next closest people. “I’ve got it.”

“I feel like I’m leaning forward too much, how do I—Wah!” The distinct clank of Jisung’s skates hitting each other rang out, and he fell forward.

Not wanting him to faceplant into your skates or the ice, you braked and tensed your arms to try to keep him up. However, since you had braked and he obviously did not, his forward momentum sent him catapulting directly into you. His arms wrapped around your waist as his legs scrambled against the ice trying to find his footing again. You readjusted your hold on him to clutch him under the arms in an attempt to keep him up, but with all the layers that you were bundled up in and the slippery ice, it was a losing battle. You were a good skater, but you couldn’t haul him back to his feet like this. So you decided to just let the two of you slowly descend, squatting down until you could plant your butt on the ice and kick your feet out on either side of Jisung, careful not to hit him with your blades.

“You alright?” You asked him, pulling his beanie back from where it was entirely obscuring his eyes.

“Please tell me I’m dead,” he groaned, the half of his face that you could see was completely pink and his eyes were squeezed shut. His head was pressed against your middle as he was still clinging onto you.

“No, you survived that,” you laughed. “And so did I. No broken arms or other bones.”

“Will you kill me anyway?”

A spray of ice showered both of you as Chenle stopped next to you guys, proceeding to double over with laughter. “Clumsy ass.”

“Nice, thank you,” you scoffed, wiping off the cold ice from your face, then a couple drops that had gotten on Jisung’s cheek. “Anytime you’d like to quit being an asshole and help us up.”

“I don’t know, you two look pretty cozy to me.”

Jisung somehow turned even redder, squirming in your grasp. “Y/N, I’m sorry!”

“Chenle, shut up!” You scolded your brother. “You’re making Jisung freak out and he’s going to hurt himself!”

“You make him sound like a scared prey animal,” he snickered. Letting out a sigh, he patted his friend’s back. “Alright, Jisung, come on.”

With Chenle’s assistance, Jisung got to his feet, and you were then able to stand back up on your own. Brushing snow off your legs, you shivered, and saw that the entire front of Jisung’s pants were soaked through thanks to the ice, and you could feel that the back of your own had suffered a similar fate.

“I think that’s enough ice skating for today,” you declared. “My ass is quite literally going to freeze off if we stay out here any longer.”

Jisung nodded quickly from where he was clinging onto Chenle to stay upright now. “I’m skated out.”

“Good thing my car has heated seats then,” Chenle said, beginning to drag his friend back towards the exit.

After a hot shower and in a fresh change of warm pajamas, you were in front of the Christmas tree with all of the boxes of decorations for it. You had already wound the lights around it when Jisung joined you in the living room, hair still damp from his shower—he’d given you first shower out of guilt.

“Hey, you know where Chenle is?” You asked, flipping open boxes of ornaments. Chenle’s loft bedroom had a private bathroom, so you figured he’d be out by now.

“He got a call—Mark, I think,” Jisung informed you.

“Oh, that’ll take an hour,” you snorted. “You can help me. Put any ornaments that have Chenle’s name on them aside, he gets to put those up whenever he’s done.”

“Any ornaments with your name are yours to put up?” He guessed, reaching into a box and pulling out an ornament in the shape of a bear with a Santa hat on. The white band of the hat had ‘Chenle’ written in cursive.

“Yep. Everything else is fair game for you. Quick tip, any bear ornaments will be Chenle’s. That’s his parent-assigned motif.”

“Got it. And what’s yours?”

You held up the honeybee ornament that you’d just fished out, letting it dangle and twist in the air, the yellow gems catching the light. “Bees. They had a theme, kind of.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.” He reached up to hang a blue and gold ornament on a higher branch, though you could feel his eyes on you as you put your own up on a middle branch. Finally, he blurted out, “Are you sure you didn’t get hurt earlier?”

“Yeah, Jisung, I’m okay,” you chuckled. “Really, we were both wearing so many layers we were practically bubblewrapped.”

He visibly relaxed. “Okay, good.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. But I crashed into you, not the other way around.”

“True, but you had a much less graceful descent.”

He visibly grimaced, a bashful smile on his face. “Mm-hm. Thank you for bringing that up again.”

“Pretty sure you brought it up again,” you teased, nudging his arm with yours as you reached in front of him to hang an ornament.

“And I would love to change the topic now.” He grabbed an ornament in the shape of a snowman.

“What’s your major?” You decided to save him this time. “You and Chenle had bio lab together, but I know he took bio for non-majors, so you’re not a STEM major either…”

Jisung made a buzzer noise, and you blinked at him in surprise. He cracked a grin as he said, “Cybersecurity.”

“Ah, so you’re a baseball jock and a little computer geek…” You nodded slowly, grabbing another ornament. “The duality of man, truly.”

“Geek?” He repeated incredulously.

“What? I think it’s cute.” You giggled and put up the glass snowflake in your hand. Then, you turned back to him hopefully. “Ooh, actually, my laptop gets possessed sometimes ever since Chenle clicked on one of those sketchy porn pop-up ads when we were fourteen. You don’t think you would be able to take a look at it sometime, would you?”

Jisung visibly sustained whiplash at your words, his head jerking back and eyes going wide before he furrowed his brows. “Wait, what? How old is your laptop? He did what to it? What do you mean it gets possessed? What exactly does it do?”

“Uhm… it’d probably be easier to show you.”

“Y/N, this thing is old enough to drive.”

You put your hands on either side of your laptop’s screen as if you were covering its ears, giving Jisung a stern look. “Sh! You’re going to hurt her feelings!”

He continued to look at you over his glasses, entirely unamused. This was the first time you’d seen him wear them—even in the library, he’d had contacts in. Now, with him wearing his casual clothes, glasses, sitting on your bed and attempting to fix your laptop, you felt like you were going to lose it, truly. Especially when you’d catch a whiff of his shampoo, and you’d have to stop yourself from leaning in to follow the smell of cinnamon.

“Seriously, why do you still have it? Chenle has the newest Macbook,” he asked, fingers flitting across the keyboard.

“Because it works fine!” You insisted, removing your hands. “I get the internal stuff cleaned out regularly, and make sure all the software is updated and everything.”

“It still gets software updates?”

“It just… gets possessed every so often.”

“I wouldn’t call the occasional possession ‘working fine.’”

“When it’s not possessed, it works great! And it doesn’t even happen that much, only like, once a month.”

“Once a month since you were fourteen?” He squinted at you in disbelief where you were sitting on the opposite side of the laptop screen. “And you kept the damn thing?”

“No, once a month now,” you clarified. “It happened the first time when Chenle clicked on that porn ad, then maybe once a year for a few years after, and slowly started happening more and more often.”

“And he was watching porn on your computer because…?”

“So it wouldn’t be on his internet history.”

He snorted. “Of course. I should’ve realized.”

“Can I watch?”

“Oh, uhm, sure?” He readjusted to make room to his left side on the mattress, angling the laptop that way as well.

You shuffled around to the other side of the computer, dropping to lay down on your front, propping your chin up with your elbows to observe. Tilting your head, you rested it against Jisung’s knee that was next to you. His hands froze over the keys, and you lifted your head back up, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Sorry—Is this okay?”

“Y-Yeah, you’re fine.” He nodded quickly and pushed his glasses up as he returned his attention to the screen.

Leaning your head back against his knee, you settled in to watch him work on your laptop. You couldn’t follow what exactly he was doing to the computer, opening and closing different windows, folders, and applications. You zoned out, watching his hands and fingers deftly move over the keys instead. He was muttering to himself under his breath, his low voice pleasant to listen to even if you couldn’t make out the words he was saying. This close to him, you could smell the cinnamon better, and were starting to think that maybe it was actually a body wash or cologne.

“Y/N?” He said your name, making you snap out of a daze as you realized he was calling for you. “Hello?”

“Hm?” You perked up a little.

“We need to do an exorcism.”

That woke you all the way back up. “Wait, what?”

“Complete reset. Wipe everything and redownload the OS.”

“But I have everything on there!” You pleaded, stretching your hands over the keyboard to prevent him from doing anything else. “We’ve been through so much together! You can’t kill her!”

He sighed regretfully. “Is there an electronics store or something around here? We can get an external hard drive to back up all your personal stuff.”

“There’s a mall like an hour away. Chenle and I need to go gift shopping anyway so we can go tomorrow!”

“Why did I hear my name?” Chenle’s voice came from further down the hallway. He must have finished his call with Mark. Your brother poked his head into your room, briefly pausing when he saw you and Jisung. “I thought you guys were decorating the tree…?”

“Remember how you downloaded a virus trying to watch porn on my computer in high school? Jisung is fixing it for me,” you said pointedly, never missing an opportunity to bring that moment up. “But we need to buy something. I was telling him you and I need to go gift shopping anyway, so we can all go to that mall tomorrow.”

“Please tell me the thing you’re buying is a new laptop.”

“Never! She’s going to outlive you if I have anything to do with it!”

“Based off the fact that it sounds like a jet engine taking off right now, I’m pretty sure that was a threat on my life.”

MONDAY, DECEMBER 23

“Okay, so you’ll need at least this much storage for the files that you have right now,” Jisung explained, motioning to a few different options of hard drives that the electronics store had. He then gestured to a few more. “But if you really want to have her until Chenle’s dead, you might want to consider some more storage.”

You grinned, bumping his shoulder affectionately. “You said ‘her.’”

He covered his mouth as he let out a sputtering laugh, his cheeks turning pink. “Oh God—I didn’t even realize. That’s—Ah, you’re rubbing off on me.”

“I like that one,” you declared, pointing to one hard drive that was a similar colorway to the laptop case you had.

“Yeah, that’s more than enough storage.”

After purchasing your hard drive, you and Jisung headed out of the electronics store together. Chenle had already gone off to gift shop on his own so you and Jisung couldn’t see what he bought you.

You turned to Jisung. “Want to help me shop for Chenle?”

“Sure.”

The two of you meandered around the mall, popping into stores that seemed promising from the outside. As you passed by a jewelry display in a window, you tapped on the glass in front of a pair of earrings.

“Those are cute,” you commented, slowing down but not stopping entirely.

“You think so?” Jisung questioned, looking at them over your shoulder as you kept walking.

“Mhm.” You nodded, then clicked your tongue. “I’d get them, but I already have a pair like them.”

“You do?”

“Yep.” Keeping your gaze on the passing storefronts, you said levelly, “I don’t want to assume anything about what you think of me, Jisung, but I want you to know that I don’t expect a present from you. We only properly met two days ago.”

“Yeah, that’s… really reasonable,” he chuckled, the relief evident in his voice.

“Seriously, if you fix my computer, that’ll be the best Christmas present I get this year, hands-down. I don’t care what expensive crap my parents get me or surprisingly thoughtful, niche thing Chenle somehow manages to find.”

“I didn’t realize how much my computer exorcism skills were worth.”

“To me, they’re priceless,” you assured him. “I wish I had something to offer in return.”

“Hey, you already taught me how to skate,” he insisted, nudging your arm.

You tilted your head side-to-side contemplatively. “One could argue whether I was successful at that…”

“Completely my fault that the lesson got cut short, not yours.”

“Alright, alright. I suppose a computer exorcism can be our quid pro quo for ten minutes of ice-skating lessons.”

“I didn’t pay much attention in my high school history class when Mr. Yoo was talking about the bartering system, but I’m pretty sure those two things are equivalent, yeah.”

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut as you started to go a little light-headed from how hard you were laughing. You were still walking forward alongside Jisung, and felt him grab your arm and tug you towards him at the same time he warned, “Watch out.”

You couldn’t see whatever you must’ve almost walked into as you were still trying to sober up from your chuckle fest, covering your face as more giggles bubbled up every time you tried to close your mouth. Jisung kept you right next to him, guiding you through the mall crowd with a gentle but steadfast grasp on your arm, not letting you bump into anybody or trip over anything.

“Are you really still laughing?” He asked, and though his words were exasperated, his tone was overly fond, letting out a soft laugh of his own at the end. “I don’t think it was that funny…”

You narrowed your eyes playfully at him, shook his hand off you, and suppressed your giggles to say, “Fine. I don’t think you’re funny at all and I hate you, actually.”

Jisung’s mouth parted as he stared at you in shock, and you couldn’t keep the bit going for very long when faced with his adorable look of being totally caught off-guard and floored, even if both of you knew it was all a joke. You grabbed his arm this time, your laughs getting muffled in his sweater as you buried your face in his shoulder and leaned against him for support.

“Oh my god, you looked like I ran over your dog or something!” You gasped for air between guffaws, apologetically rubbing his arm.

“You’re…” He trailed off, letting out a sigh instead, reaching for your purse that was on your arm and now awkwardly crushed between you two with you holding his arm. “Here, I’ll take that.”

He had already been carrying your shopping bags that you’d been acquiring from the various stores, and you now stopped to wordlessly shimmy off your purse for him to shoulder on his opposite side from you. You reattached yourself to his arm that you had been holding, and though his cheeks were turning pink, he had a small smile on his face as he looked down at his phone to check the time.

“Did your family assign you an animal too?” You asked him, your eyes getting caught on a kiosk of Christmas ornaments as you continued your journey through the mall.

“What?”

“Like how my parents decided when we were born that Chenle’s a bear and I’m a honeybee,” you explained, quickly looking back over to Jisung. “Did you ever have an animal or something that was like yours?”

He scrunched his nose as he thought, then shook his head. “No, not that I can remember. I always had a bunch of different stuffed animals.”

“I think you look like a hamster,” you informed him. “Especially when you do that with your nose.”

“Do what with my nose?” He questioned, his nose unintentionally twitching and scrunching up again as his eyes flitted around nervously.

You giggled, squeezing his arm tighter as you couldn’t help but coo over how cute he was. “That!”

He covered his nose with his hand, and though it obstructed half his face, you could tell he was pouting behind it.

“I didn’t mean to make you self-conscious, I’m sorry!” You apologized, grabbing his hand and trying to pull it away from his face. “I think it’s really cute!”

He stubbornly kept his nose concealed. “You still haven’t told me what it is…”

“You just scrunch up your nose sometimes, like this—” You imitated it, doing your best not to make it look like you were mocking him. “Seriously, it’s adorable! Please don’t ever stop, I might die!”

Jisung’s eyes crinkled and he dropped his hand back down as he chuckled. “Well we can’t have that.”

Your phone buzzed in your hand then, and you saw that it was your brother calling. “Mm, hold on, it’s Chenle.”

“Hey, where are you guys?” Chenle asked on the other end.

“We’re still on the first floor,” you told him. “By the pretzel stand. Where are you?”

“What have you two been doing? I’m on the third floor; I’ve been through the whole mall already. I’m done,” he scoffed. “Stay there, I’ll come to you.”

“I had to get my hard drive first, remember? You got a head start.”

“Anyway, are you done?”

“No, I have a couple more people to find gifts for.”

“Alright, hold on, I see you.”

You craned your neck looking for Chenle, still with your phone to your ear. “Damn bitch, how many old ladies did you take out on your way here?”

“Only two,” Chenle’s voice came through your phone and from directly beside you at the same time. He was loaded up with shopping bags on both arms.

You jumped out of your skin before rolling your eyes and hanging up the call. “Did you see a place that sold bath bombs and stuff?”

“Yeah, second floor, directly to the left off the escalator.”

“That’s my next stop, SooSoo loves that stuff,” you declared.

“There’s a baseball specialty shop on the third floor,” Chenle stated, eyes lingering on where you were still holding onto his friend’s arm. “If you want to go check it out, Jisung?”

You perked up, giving him an enthusiastic smile. “That sounds awesome! You totally should.”

Jisung turned to Chenle and nodded. “Yeah, sounds cool. Let’s do it.”

“I’ve still got a couple people on my list, so I’ll call you guys when I’m done so we can meet up and go,” you said, reaching for your purse that was still on Jisung’s shoulder. He handed it back to you, and you hurried off to take care of your final errands.

Back at the house, you watched on with bated breath as Jisung performed his laptop exorcism. The screen turned on, which already was good news. After a few more progress bars, you eventually saw your homescreen and looked at him with guarded hope.

“I still need to transfer your personal files back over. And you won’t know if it worked unless it just never gets possessed again, but…” Jisung gestured to your laptop with a certain finality.

“Ahh, thank you! Thank you!” You cheered, hugging him.

“O-Oh, you’re welcome,” he mumbled, hesitantly hugging you back.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 24

Christmas Eve was ushered in with a fresh snowfall overnight, and maybe the Christmas spirit finally possessed you, because all three of you were outside playing in it like little kids. A rather lumpy snowman had already been built and decorated with various rocks, sticks, and kitchen utensils. Snow angels were scattered around, and Chenle had just thrown the very first snowball, hitting Jisung squarely in the back of the head.

You laughed incredulously as the pitcher turned around and calmly started packing snow between his hands.

“Are you stupid?” You snickered at your brother, who was also preparing another snowball.

Before he could finish readying that one, Jisung wound up and launched his snowball, nailing Chenle in the face. You weren’t even focused on your brother as he desperately wiped the snow off his face with both hands, however, your eyes still watching Jisung, who was chuckling to himself. You’d been too preoccupied at the Christmas tree farm to really watch any of their snowfall fight that had happened there, and obviously hadn’t gone to any of Jisung’s games before, so this was the first time you’d seen him really use any of his pitcher skills. While it wasn’t a proper pitch, the practiced ease and skill that he clearly possessed even in doing something as silly as throwing a snowball was admittedly really attractive.

Chenle had taken his loss and grabbed a stick to start writing something in the snow, a good distance away from where you and Jisung were, his back to the two of you.

Stepping deliberately closer to Jisung, you said, “That was really cool, Jisung.”

He fidgeted with making sure his beanie was down over his ears. “Ah, I mean, it wasn’t a real pitch or anything—”

“Then can you teach me how to pitch for real?” You requested sweetly. “I’m very into baseball these days.”

“Uhm, y-yeah,” he agreed, clearing his throat and nodding. He stooped down to pack more snow between his hands into a round sphere, then held it out for you. “Here, that should be the right size.”

You graciously accepted it, then looked at him expectantly.

“Do you prefer to throw with your left or your right?” He asked.

You held up your dominant hand holding the snowball, and he nodded.

“Okay, uhm, you should stand with your feet like this.” He demonstrated the correct positioning himself, and you copied.

Jisung went through the basic steps with you, making minor adjustments here and there, and you were actually finding it sort of interesting, outside of the cute boy teaching you something he was passionate about. Learning a new skill or something to that effect. When he was showing you how to actually move your arm when throwing, you were genuinely trying to do it per his verbal instructions, but apparently there was still something wrong with the way you were doing it. And so he walked behind you, covering your gloves hand with his. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, and his other hand grabbed your opposite shoulder to correct your posture as he manually moved your arm through the correct motion. Slow at first, talking through it.

“Feel how it’s different than what you were doing?” He asked, doing it again, a little faster this time.

But you were long gone, your brain white noise and your vision blurring a little bit (but that was mostly due to the cold wind hitting your eyes). He still smelled like cinnamon, and you wanted to listen to his voice all day. Jisung could read you a car manufacturer’s manual for all you cared.

“Mm, mhm,” you agreed absentmindedly.

“Alright, I’m going to step back and let you throw your first pitch.” He patted your shoulder and did just that, leaving you feeling even colder.

You momentarily panicked as you grappled in your short-term memory for anything that he had just been saying. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, deciding that you would probably suck anyway, and to just fucking do it. Trusting your gut and muscle memory of what Jisung had just been walking you through, you did your damndest to throw that snowball in something akin to a pitch.

Amazingly, the snowball actually hit the trunk of the tree that you had been aiming for, and you stared at it in disbelief, hands hanging down by your side. Jisung clapped, the sound dampened by his gloves, but his cheers were surprisingly upbeat for how soft-spoken of a guy he was.

“Wow! That was a really good first pitch!” He congratulated you, holding up both his palms for you to high-five. “So awesome…”

You high-fived him, but stayed holding onto his hands, wide smile overtaking your features. “Thank you.”

“I—You’re welcome.” He held onto your hands too, throat bobbing up and down as he swallowed.

“Jisung!” Chenle yelled out, reminding the both of you of his presence. “Can you get my phone? I made Daegal out of snow and I want to take a picture. It should be charging on my bed.”

“Yeah!” Jisung called back. He gave you a regretful look, letting your hands go to trudge back up to the cabin.

Rounding on your brother, you stomped over to him, observing the admittedly cute snow-Daegal for a moment before addressing him.

“You can get your own phone,” you scoffed, crossing your arms.

“I thought I might hurt Jisung’s feelings if I told him to leave to his face,” Chenle replied nonchalantly. He looked at you over his large-framed sunglasses. “I feel like I have to warn you, as your big brother—”

“By ten months.”

“—about Jisung.”

You gave him a sour look, knowing that he knew that you wouldn’t be able stop yourself from asking a follow-up question to a statement like that. “What about him?”

“I know what you’ve been trying to do this whole time. You’re not ‘very into baseball,’ you’re into Jisung.”

You immediately got fired up, hands balling into fists at your sides. “Don’t you dare start pulling the ‘my friends are off-limits’ card now. You’ve never—”

“Hey, I like Jisung.” He held up his hands defensively, an amused smirk on his face. “If I had to make a tierlist of my friends for you to date, he’d be like, the only one in S-tier.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Do you have a fantasy draft of boyfriends for me too?”

“I’m genuinely trying to help you here, alright?”

“So, what? Does he have a girlfriend or something?”

“Not exactly…” Chenle sighed. “Right before we left, during finals week, he met this girl in the library and just absolutely fell head-over-heels, okay? Like, he’s never even looked once at all the girls who show up to his games, but this one says three words to him and gives him some candy and he’s a goner. I don’t get it.”

It took everything in you to suppress your giddy grin and instead cock your head, playing dumb as you asked, “Wait, did he even get this girl’s name?”

“No, he never got a chance since they were both working on finals stuff,” he answered. “Anyway, I’m just trying to warn you. You’ve got to compete with the romanticized version of mystery library candy girl that he has in his head.”

“Mm. Tough competition,” you nodded with mock solemnity.

“I’m serious, Y/N. He called me at like midnight walking back from the library to tell me about it. He’s got it bad.” As if suddenly realizing everything he had just told you might dampen your spirits, Chenle’s entire demeanor shifted, and he gingerly patted the top of your head. “But uh, you’ve totally got this. I’m rooting for you, lil sis.”

“Right. Thanks… big bro,” you replied with intentional stiltedness, softballing a punch to his shoulder.

That night after dinner, you all sat down around the Christmas tree for your family tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve. You sifted through the presents under the tree, some of which were ones that had been shipped here ahead of time by your parents or other extended family, others from Chenle.

“Hmm… one or two?” You asked, your eyes on two particular gifts.

“One,” Chenle and Jisung answered unanimously.

You grabbed the one that had been under your left hand, returning to your seat next to Jisung. Chenle had already picked his box, and fished out a gift bag, plopping it in front of Jisung. He seemed surprised, blinking down at it.

“But—”

“I got you more than one gift, dummy,” Chenle cut him off, already guessing what his confusion was about. “Go ahead.”

“No!” You stopped Jisung. He looked at you with alarm as you snatched the gift bag away, putting it back under the tree and replacing it with a different, much smaller one instead. “Open mine.”

Jisung looked even more confused, and slightly betrayed. “I thought we agreed we weren’t doing gifts…?”

“Yeah, but then I saw this and…” You smiled sheepishly. “Just open it!”

Shaking his head, he pulled out the tissue paper, then removed the object at the bottom of the bag. It was wrapped in more tissue paper to protect it, which he carefully wrapped, revealing the ornament that you had bought yesterday while you were split up. It was in the shape of a hamster popping out of a present box, and as soon as you saw it at the mall kiosk, you knew you had to get it for him.

Jisung turned it over his hands, looking up at you still a little confused, but with a smile. “Wait…”

“It looks just like you!” You giggled, taking it from him to hold it up next to his face. Aiming your next question at Chenle, you asked, “Doesn’t it?”

Your brother started laughing, reaching forward to tweak one of Jisung’s cheeks. “Ha, she’s right. How adorable.”

Jisung pushed his hand away, rolling his eyes. His gaze softened when he looked back over at you. “Thank you, Y/N. It’s great.”

“Hang it up!” You urged, giving it back to him and gesturing to the tree.

He got up on his knees to reach forward and affix it to an empty branch, between a bear ornament and honeybee ornament.

“Okay, Y/N, you next,” Chenle directed.

Ripping the wrapping paper off the small box, you were met with a small jewelry box, and took that lid off. Inside was a pair of ornate, bejeweled earrings, a little flashy for your taste. You checked the card.

“Great-Aunt Ying,” you announced, and Chenle let out an ‘ahh’ sound in understanding. You put the lid back on the box and set it aside. “SooSoo will love those.”

“Who’s that?” Jisung asked curiously as your brother started unwrapping his present. “Not your great-aunt.”

“Sooyoung, my roommate since freshman year,” you explained. “She’s also like, my best friend. And those earrings aren’t really my style, but I know she would wear them like, all the time, so I’ll just give them to her when we get back.”

Chenle’s box was a bit larger than yours had been, and was similarly stylish. He turned it over to shake the lid off and make the contents fall out all in one go, catching the fabric that fell out in his hand. Holding it up, it was a tie in what looked like a nice material, a monochrome and not exceptionally busy pattern on it.

“Another tie, wonder who it’s from…” he snorted, picking up the card. “Oh, Great-Uncle Feng. Surprise.”

“Does he think you’re eating all the ties he gives you or something?” You snickered.

“I think he’s so old he forgets he’s given me a tie before and thinks I don’t own any.” Chenle then offered it out to Jisung. “You need a tie? If not, I’ll ask the other guys.”

“I would need a suit first…” Jisung admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Chenle stared at him in disbelief, then sighed. “Okay, so we’re getting you a suit when we get back to school.”

“What do I need a suit for?”

“Don’t you have formal stuff that you have to go to for baseball? Awards or press conferences or something?”

“That’s maybe once a year. I just rent a suit!”

“Jisung, don’t say another word, you’re going to kill me.” He put a hand over his heart as if it were going to give out any second.

You chuckled at their antics, starting to clean up the trashed wrapping paper. “Christmas movies?”

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 25

You felt like a little kid, unable to sleep the night before Christmas morning. It was after midnight, so it technically was Christmas now. And even thought you knew that neither Santa nor you parents were coming, you were still oddly giddy. You had already videocalled Sooyoung to recap the developments of the day, but you were still replaying everything in your mind, kept up with thought of Jisung. How it felt being that close to him when he was teaching you to throw a snowball, the information that apparently he was just as smitten with you after the library as you were with him. Even Chenle’s unofficial blessing put your mind at ease—not because your brother determined who you dated, but he knew Jisung better than you did and was brutally honest, so if he said that he liked Jisung for you, you knew he meant it.

Pushing your covers off, goosebumps immediately popped up on your legs that were now exposed to the cool air. You treaded over to the bathroom door. The light was off, but you still knocked. When there was no response, you opened it. You didn’t stop there, however, continuing on to the opposite door, which you knew led to Jisung’s room. Taking a deep breath, you knocked softly on that one too.

You heard the rustling of sheets and quiet padding of footsteps before the door handle twisted and opened, Jisung on the other side. He looked down at you, nose scrunched up in bewilderment.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asked, rubbing one of his eyes behind his glasses.

“Yeah. Uhm, sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No, I uh, I couldn’t sleep, actually.”

“Me neither.”

“Oh.”

There was a pause, and you fidgeted with the ends of your longsleeve. “Do you want to hang out for a bit? Since we’re both up…”

“Oh! Y-Yeah, sure.” He stepped back from the door, motioning you in. “Uhm, come in.”

“Thanks.” You stepped inside, and he closed the door behind you.

The bedsheets were rumpled on one side, so you sat down on the other side, pulling the blanket over your chilly legs. Jisung watched you, frozen halfway from the bathroom to the bed for a second.

“I’m cold,” you told him, turning your phone on.

“Of course, right,” he breathed out, snapping out of his trance.

He climbed under the covers as well, putting a headphone in his ear opposite from you and pressing play on a video on his phone. Curious, you peeked over at his screen to see what he was watching. It looked like a bunch of clips of professional baseball pitchers.

“It’s my favorite pro pitcher,” Jisung blurted out, pausing the video again. He had apparently noticed you snooping at his screen. “Well, that’s currently active. He’s a lefty, and he does this thing on some of his pitches where he gets this spin and—”

You blinked as he had abruptly cut himself off in the middle of his sentence. Tilting your head, you asked, “What? Why’d you stop?”

“You’re not really interested in baseball, are you?” He questioned, turning his eyes down to his lap. “You’re just being nice.”

“Hold on—”

“It’s okay, you can go back to what you were doing, I don’t want to bore you.”

“Jisung,” you giggled, turning over on your side fully to face him. “You really haven’t figured it out?”

His brow furrowed and he pouted slightly as he seemed to genuinely be confused. “Figured what out?”

“I’m interested in baseball because I’m interested in you,” you said bluntly, watching the gears turn in his head before his eyes widened.

“Wh—Oh. Really?”

“Mhm. But Chenle did warn me that apparently you’re head over heels for some mystery girl that you met in the library during finals week who gave you candy,” you teased, letting out a wistful sigh. “So I have no chance…”

Jisung dropped his phone to cover his face with both hands, letting out a noise of embarrassment from deep in his chest, shaking his head. “Oh my God…”

“I told SooSoo about you too,” you informed him. “After the library.”

He opened his hands to peek at you meekly. “Really?”

“Really.”

Jisung glanced upwards, and you snickered.

“Chenle’s not like that. He’s not going to care unless you’re a dick to me.”

“Because only he gets to be a dick to you?” He joked, slowly removing his hands all the way from his face.

“Yep. Same for the girls he dates. Nobody gets to be a bitch to him except me.”

“So, now what?” He asked nervously, glancing around the room.

“Now, you’re going to finish telling me about your favorite pitcher,” you stated, scooting over until you were snuggled into his side, head resting on his shoulder so you could see his phone screen better.

Jisung grabbed his earbud case from the nightstand, bringing the other one out. He offered it to you, and you put it in as he turned his phone back on. He restarted the compilation, but didn’t press play yet, instead launching back into his explanation from before, excitedly talking faster now.

“So this is Hwang Myungjun. Like I said, he’s my favorite pitcher that’s in the league right now. He’s a lefty and—you’ll see it in this video, but—he does this really cool thing on some of his pitches where he can get this certain spin on the ball and…”

You listened to him go on and on with a smile on your face, breathing in the warm smell of cinnamon.

In the morning, you stirred a little, sighing and pulling the covers up to your nose. Covers that smelled like cinnamon. Opening one of your eyes, you were greeted with Jisung already wide awake, sitting up against the headboard, staring at you from behind his glasses.

You rubbed your eye and yawned. “Christ—Did you sleep at all?”

“Yeah, we get up early for baseball conditioning, so I don’t really sleep in even on days off.” He rubbed the back of his neck, ears turning pink. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Good morning…”

“Morning,” you mumbled, yawning again. “Sorry for falling asleep here.”

“It’s okay. Sorry for talking you to sleep.”

“No, it was nice. I like your voice.” You pushed yourself into a half-sitting position. Pecking his cheek, you added, “Merry Christmas.”

His face flushed as he smiled down at his hands. “Merry Christmas…”

Climbing out of bed, you stretched your arms over your head, then wrapped them around yourself. “Anyway, I should emerge from my own room. Just because he doesn’t care if we date doesn’t mean Chenle needs to think something other than watching baseball compilations happened in here last night.”

Jisung squeezed his eyes shut and nodded his head. “Good idea.”

“See you in a few.” You bid him a momentary farewell, opening the door to the adjoining bathroom.

Shuffling back into your own bedroom, you almost screamed when you saw a figure sitting on your bed in the dark. You grabbed for the closest thing in your reach, a candlestick on the dresser next to you, ready to swing. The figure turned on the lamp next to the bed, and you saw that it was Chenle, still contemplating hitting him anyway. You decided to set your weapon down, however.

“What the fuck?!” You hissed, stalking up to your bed and grabbing a stuffed animal to chuck at him instead. He caught the stuffed bee, holding it to his chest as he smirked at you.

“Something you want to tell me?” He raised an eyebrow. “About where you’ve been?”

You followed his line of sight between you and the bathroom door that you just came out of. “What are you, the piss patrol? Can’t a bitch pee in peace around here?”

“Toilet didn’t flush, sink didn’t run,” he immediately shot back. “Also, I’ve been in here for the past hour.”

“Don’t be weird about it—” You held up a finger in his face threateningly, and a victorious grin immediately spread across his features. “Jisung and I talked about how we felt, and I fell asleep in his room. Nothing else, okay?”

Chenle gave you a look that told you he didn’t entirely believe you, but he didn’t press you any further. “God, how am I going to choose between being your brother of honor and his best man?”

“We haven’t even gone on a date!” You grabbed a pillow and tried to pushed it over his face to shut him up. He narrowly saved himself from being smothered, cackling as you resorted to smacking him with it instead. “As if I’d even ask you to be my whatever you just made up! You’ll be lucky if you even get an invite, I swear to—”

The door to your room was thrown open from the bathroom, Jisung looking around the room wildly. “Y/N! Are—”

You stopped your assault on your brother to smile breathlessly at Jisung. “Oh. Hi.”

“I heard you yelling, I wanted to make sure…”

“I’m fine,” you reassured him. “Thanks, Jisung.”

“I know!” Chenle announced loudly. “I know everything, Park Jisung! Last night, you and my little sister—”

You succeeded in smothering Chenle this time, muffling whatever obnoxious things he was about to spew.

After breakfast and opening presents in the morning, Jisung excused himself to go call his parents. Chenle tsked, turning the gaming console on to start up one of the new games he’d gotten and tossing you a controller.

“He tell you how he ended up coming with us?” Your brother asked, his gaze on the screen.

“Yeah. His dad goes on a cruise and his mom is with his stepdad’s side of the family. So he would’ve just been at the school if you didn’t bring him,” you replied, only paying half-attention to the opening cutscene.

“At least ours pretend to make an effort,” he scoffed. “His mom didn’t even offer to pay for his plane ticket.”

“Hm?”

“His mom and stepdad live on the other side of the country. They technically ‘invite’ him to Christmas every year, but he’d have to get himself there and back.”

“So it’s hardly a genuine invite.”

“And you know what his stepdad does?”

“What?”

“CEO of that logistics company that Mom and Dad are always talking about. The big one.”

“Shit, really? And he can’t be bothered to pay for his wife to see her own son once a year?”

He clicked his tongue. “Apparently not.”

A few levels into the video game, Chenle’s phone lit up with a text. He paused the game, and sighed upon reading the message. “Jisung says we can eat lunch without him. He’s suddenly not feeling well.”

You winced. “I take it his phone calls didn’t go well.”

“You go check on him. You can handle crying people better than me.”

You nodded in agreement, getting up from the couch. Outside of Jisung’s bedroom door, you listened carefully first, just in case he was still on a call. It was quiet, and you knocked softly.

“Jisung?” You called out. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” he replied, his voice sounding far away.

Opening the door, you saw him laying on the bed on top of his covers, his back to the door. You stayed in the doorway, asking, “Do you want to be alone?”

“No.”

You sat down on the bed behind him, still giving him his space. “Do you want to talk or do you want quiet?”

“My dad didn’t even pick up,” he muttered. “And my mom—God, I got to tell her about school for all of five seconds before she started gushing about how her grandbabies are learning how to write or whatever. I’ve never even met those kids, honestly, I don’t give a fuck about them. They’re not even her grandkids, they’re her husband’s. Apparently, one of them is on a little league baseball team. When she started saying I could teach him how to pitch when I come to visit for summer, I pretended the call was dropping and hung up. ‘When I come to visit’—I live with my dad in the summer because he didn’t move away from me.”

“I’m sorry, Jisung,” you said, feeling the hurt in your heart as his voice tightened and cracked.

“It’s funny, they used to have these-these blowout fights every year about who got me for Christmas,” he sniffled. “And now that they moved on and got their new families, they couldn’t care less about me.”

“Lucky for me and Chenle, then. Because we got you this year.”

He laughed, finally rolling over to face you. He wiped at his eyes, but you still saw the tears that had run down the side of his face. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do.” You gently stroked his hair, brushing some of it out of his face.

Jisung scooted closer, until he could pillow his head in your lap instead, his eyes fluttering shut as you resumed your ministrations. “I’m glad you guys got me too…”

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 26

A knock on your bedroom door woke you up. It opened, and somebody who was neither Chenle nor Jisung peered in.

“Merry Christmas, sweetie,” your mother hummed lightly. “Are you up?”

“Mm, yeah,” you grunted, pushing yourself up against your pillows.

She came over to press a kiss to your forehead. “Good morning.”

“Hi, Mom. Merry Christmas,” you smiled up at her, letting her take your hand in hers. “Did you and Dad just get here?”

“A few minutes ago. Your father’s getting Chenle.”

There was a loud thunk from above you, followed by a yelp and two very familiar and similar laughs that you recognized as your families’. You chuckled as your mom rolled her eyes fondly.

“I think he was successful,” you snickered.

“We’re going out for breakfast when you’re ready,” she informed you, squeezing your hand before letting it go.

“Mmkay.” You yawned as she headed for your door. “I’ll let Jisung know.”

She paused, tilting her head. “Who?”

“Didn’t Chenle tell you his friend was coming? Park Jisung?” You pointed at the room next door.

“Oh, I thought he was bringing Mark for some reason.” She looked at you with concern. “Does Jisung like basketball too?”

“I… don’t know? He plays baseball?”

“Oh. Hm.”

“So, what are you studying, Jisung?” Your mother asked, stirring sugar into her coffee.

The five of you were at a diner in the small town at the base of the mountain, you, Jisung, and Chenle packed into one side of a booth and your parents on the other. The car ride had been filled with you and Chenle filling your parents in on your various happenings from this semester, but now your parents seemed to have zeroed in on the newcomer.

“Cybersecurity,” he rushed to answer.

Both your parents seemed impressed by that. Your dad spoke next, “And what do your parents do?”

“He’s got an athletic scholarship, Dad,” Chenle cut in before you could. You both knew what he was really asking about.

“Full ride,” you added proudly. “Baseball. He’s the pitcher.”

“Really?” Your dad’s interest was piqued—he was a bigger sports fan than your brother.

“Yes, sir,” Jisung replied.

“The school doesn’t give out full athletic scholarships frequently. You know that?”

“No, sir, I-I didn’t know that.”

Your dad took a sip of his own coffee, regarding Jisung like he was evaluating his investment portfolio. “So what makes you so valuable?”

“W-Well, uhm, I-I don’t—”

“He’s ambidextrous,” you answered for him. “He can pitch with both hands.”

“Switch pitcher?” Your dad hummed thoughtfully. “You know who the best switch pitcher in the history of the league is, right?”

“Kim Beomjin, sir,” Jisung replied firmly.

“Has he passed your test, yet, Dad?” Chenle scoffed. “Come on, stop treating him like he’s interviewing at the company.”

“I was trying to get to know—”

“You were being a bit much, dear,” your mother interrupted your dad’s attempts to defend himself.

“Alright. My apologies, Jisung.”

“It’s fine, sir, really.”

You didn’t understand why your mother had asked if Jisung liked basketball until you got back to the house. Your parents had brought a few more presents with them, including, kindly, a couple for Jisung. Except they hadn’t been expecting Jisung, they had been expecting Mark, which evident in the gifts. Both Chenle and Mark loved basketball, so the matching jerseys for their favorite team would’ve made the perfect present, if it had been Mark receiving it.

“I’m so sorry, Jisung,” your mother kept apologizing, clearly embarrassed at the mistake.

“No, I-I like basketball too, ma’am,” he tried to reassure her.

“It’s a requirement for being my friend,” Chenle helped him out. “If only I could’ve made it a requirement for being my sister.”

“If we got to pick, I would’ve made not being annoying as fuck a requirement for being my brother,” you retorted.

“Language!” Your mom scolded you, at the same time that your dad warned Chenle to “Be nicer to your sister!”

Your parents were gone again after dinner, leaving in a flurry of hugs, kisses, and promises of celebrating Christmas together properly next year. As soon as he’d shut the door behind them, Chenle turned to you, cynical disbelief on his face already.

“No way,” he chuckled and shook his head. His phone rang then, and he tutted. “Gotta take this. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

Jisung was already in the living room, and you plopped down next to him on one of the couches, dropping your head into your hands.

“Your parents seem nice,” he said quietly.

“Mhm, they’re really great when they’re here,” you agreed bitterly. “Sort of makes it hurt worse. It’d be easy to just hate them if they left us all the time and changed plans last-minute and were awful when we did see them. But they do all that shit, and then I see them and it’s good. And it makes me start thinking that maybe it’ll be different, maybe they’ll really keep their promises next time.”

“I get that.” He seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. “But maybe this time you just don’t get your hopes up. Might be easier on you.”

“Yeah, probably.”

With a sigh, you sat up, turning into Jisung’s side and snaking your arms around his waist. He wrapped his arms around you as you buried your face in his chest, one hand cradling the back of your head. His other hand slowly rubbed your back, encouraging you to relax into his embrace even more.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 31

The morning of New Year’s Eve, the three of you were sitting around the kitchen table silently eating breakfast scrounged together from various leftovers and the singular grocery store trip you’d taken since Christmas. Then, there was a knock at the front door, and with your cereal spoon sticking out of your mouth, you gave Chenle and Jisung a bewildered look. They, however, didn’t seem put off at all.

“Y/N, can you go see who it is?” Chenle asked you, returning his gaze to his phone screen.

“Are you expecting someone?” You retorted. “You go answer it.”

The knocking came again, more insistent this time.

“Y/N! Just get it!” Chenle demanded loudly.

“Fine! Fine!” You got up, stomping over to the front door.

Opening the solid wood door, your jaw dropped when you saw six figures on the other side, before you were tackled in a hug by the one at the front.

“Surprise!” Sooyoung squealed, nearly squeezing the air out of your lungs.

“Soo!” You gasped, hugging her back. “What are you doing here?”

“We were invited!” Jaemin informed you cheerily, grabbing you for a bear hug next.

“We’d never pass up an invite to a Chenle-Y/N party,” Jeno’s eyes twinkled as he pecked the crown of your head.

“Especially a New Year’s Eve party,” Donghyuck added.

“Since when have we been throwing a New Year’s Eve party?” You spluttered, still in delighted shock as you took in all of your friends standing in your foyer.

Mark hugged you too. “Chenle texted us a couple days before Christmas to see if we could make it for New Year’s.”

You grabbed your roommate’s hand, bewildered the most by her presence. She wasn’t friends with Chenle or any of the other guys standing there, to your knowledge. “But how did you…?”

“Jisung’s idea,” Chenle had joined you all, standing at the threshold of the foyer with the baseball player. “We figured out that Renjun and Sooyoung were in a study group together this semester and…”

You’d spotted Huang Renjun, one of Chenle’s friends from college whom you’d met several times before, hanging back on the fringes of the group. You smiled at him before beelining for Jisung, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek a couple times in your excitement.

“Thank you!” You were smiling ear to ear, so much that your cheeks hurt, but you couldn’t help it.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” Jisung returned the hug, rubbing your back. “My late Christmas present to you.”

You let him go to hug your brother next, hooking your chin over his shoulder and squeezing him so tight you felt like your chest might burst, and you hoped he could feel how much all of this—how much he—meant to you. Despite everything you may say or do to each other. “Thanks, Chenle.”

“Of course,” he whispered, hugging you back just as tight.

“SooSoo, I’m serious, not that much has happened!” You promised, laying on your bed to watch as she got settled in your room. She had of course insisted that you filled her in on every details of everything that’s happened between you and Jisung, including things that she had already heard before since you two talked almost every night. “It’s only been like a week, and my brother is literally here.”

“We all saw those little cheek kisses earlier,” she replied pointedly. “You’re at least going to kiss him at midnight, right?”

“Maybe,” you giggled, quite literally kicking your feet as you thought about it. “Onto you—You just spent three hours in a car with them, have you figured out if you want me to set you up with Jeno or Jaemin?”

“We took two cars. I was in Renjun’s with Donghyuck,” she informed you with a desolate sigh.

“Why did you—”

“He offered because he knew I didn’t know anybody except him, and I didn’t know how to explain why I wanted to go in the other one!”

“Foiled once more by empathy and kindness.”

“I’ll figure it out before we go back to school!”

“Maybe you can get one of their numbers on your own before then.”

Despite the reputations that ‘Chenle-Y/N’ parties carried amongst your friends, and your friends also bringing enough alcohol to host a full-blown kegger, the event itself was pretty low-key. You’d gotten the firepit on the back porch going, food ordered, music going throughout the house, and had already completed several different games.

You were fixing yourself a cup of eggnog in the kitchen when you spotted someone out by the firepit. Pouring another mug, you took both out with you. Jisung looked up when he heard the back door open. He smiled as he recognized that it was you, scooting over on the bench to make room for you to sit with him.

“Eggnog?” You offered a cup out to him. “I didn’t spike it, but I can go add something in if you really want.”

“No, this is perfect,” he chuckled, his laughs rising as white wisps in the cold air. “I’ve been thinking…”

“About?”

“Were the three options hot chocolate, cider, and eggnog?”

It took you a second to catch up, but once you had recalled your first night in the mountains, you burst into laughter, nodding. “Yeah, those were the three options when I made you pick a number.”

He smiled, taking a sip of his drink. “There was something else, that I was thinking about.”

“Oh?”

“Are-Are we going to kiss at midnight? Do you want to? I know we haven’t gone on a real date or anything—”

“I do want to kiss you,” you admitted. “Do you?”

He nodded hurriedly. “Yes, god.”

“You still seem… fidgety. We can wait, if you—”

“That’s not it.” He set his cup of eggnog down, and you did as well. “I want to kiss you. I just don’t want the first time I do to be in front of a bunch of our friends.”

You smirked, tilting your head curiously. “Are you asking to practice before?”

He blinked. “I don’t think I was before, but I definitely am now.”

You snickered a little, leaning in and gently touching your lips to his in a feather-light kiss. He let out a small sigh against your lips, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek and pull you closer, sealing his mouth over yours. Everything was warm, no matter the fire or the cold wind or the thick jacket you were wearing, you were being heated from the inside out.

When Jisung pulled back, he had such a dazzlingly soft smile on his face that you couldn’t help but stare, wanting to burn that image in the back of your eyelids forever. He moved to duck his head shyly, but you grabbed his face.

“I think we might need some more practice before midnight,” you teased, nuzzling your nose with his affectionately.

“Mm, of course,” he agreed humorously, kissing you again. And again, and again, and again.

⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon

TAGLIST

@annenakamura @bee-the-loser @lotties-readings @ppddpjdr @reiofsuns2001

@classicroyalty @giirlfriendd @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01

@tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69

@winkeuu

717 notes · View notes

bokunoheros · 10 months ago

Text

⋆˚࿔ naughty iida tenya hcs 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

🪲 authors note:// okay yes, these will be naughty sorry i’m fucking insane okay????? this man is critically underrated and every fic i’ve read with him is fucking ass. that being said: fine, i’ll do it myself. these are. not in order. FYI.

topics discussed & warnings:// voyeurism, thigh/leg fetish, crying during sex, oral sex, BDSM undertones (?), cunnilingus, mutual mast., gender is not specified but I use female anatomical terminology, established relations kind of, kissing, lots of kissing, shared showering.

word count:// 836-ish

ᯓ heed the warnings laid before you, your media consumption is your responsibility! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

every WORD under the cut will be R-RATED- SO, +18 only, respect my wishes regarding interactions.

𝜗𝜚 edited and proof read by the lovely calius .ᐟ xoxo

✎ᝰ He’s not into fucking, and prefers the term love making.

He’s a voyeur. I SAID IT! When you two finally get comfortable in your relationship, he will be spying on you in the shower— or while you change, taking a peek even if you told him to turn around. Sure, he’d be all bashful and nervous about it, but damn, he cannot help himself when it comes to you! — adding onto his voyeurism, he is very interested in mutual masturbation. He… finally… admitted that he saw it in an “inappropriate video” once, and got curious. Of course you had berated his ass for this, and he pouted until you were done laughing. But alas, you couldn’t say no to his darling red eyes. He’d stare at you so intently, studying every inch of your face as you respond to his touch, struggling to keep your pace between his legs as he brushes over your clit…

HOLY SHIT, does this man like legs. God forbid you incorporate panty hose or stockings or thigh-high socks into your specially designed costume, because he will be touching himself to you, ripping a hole in them, or ripping them straight off. Tenya revels in the way the fatty skin of your thighs melt over the elastic band, as it is quite literally a sight to behold. When you guys are dating— and have finally found the courage to have sex— he is not bashful about begging you to crush his head around your thighs, no matter the consequence.

Tenya is… let’s just say—very— into oral sex. He definitely has an oral fixation, and will basically do anything to go down on you, or for you to go down on him. Don’t want to do your homework? He’s already done it. Don’t feel like showering after battle training? Like he gives a shit. He’d pounce between your thighs at any given chance. — while being proud of his behavior when he goes down on you, Tenya is completely the opposite when it comes to your mouth on him. He’s bashful, nervous, and unfortunately, an accidental head-pusher. Though, he will apologize profusely as he pushes you down, he just cannot help himself. Tenya’s on the verge of crying already, and you’re barely halfway down his cock, so you at least have to give him this, right?

Iida Tenya happens to go brain dead more often than you’d think. Yes, he is just sooooo headstrong, but your warmth and the way you squeeze him, pulling him in further— and he’s babbling. Mindlessly humping into your cunt, muttering every curse he knows— slobbering as he tries to form a coherent sentence only to tell you just how good you feel.

THIS. MAN. IS. A. KISSER. DAMNIT! He loves to kiss. That’s it: kiss. Tenya would kiss all over you for no reason, other than just because he can. He loves to swipe his tongue over your neck, nibbling your earlobe before sucking a specific spot just below. He loves how you react, especially when his tongue dives into your mouth and slides against yours and the only thing you can do is thread your fingers through his jet-blue hair, tugging on what you can because you cannot fucking breathe.

Get on top of that man. RIDE HIM LIKE THE GODDAMN STEAM ENGINE HE IS. He’ll keep you firmly atop him when you do, keeping you snug in a bear hug around your waist while you grip his shoulders. He’d rutt his hips upwards when you got tired, burying his face in your tits as he brought you down hard into his hips.

Trust me, he ain’t coming until you have, that’s for sure. He’d be eating you out, fingering you with one big hand, and the other snaked between his own legs, jerking himself off. Like clockwork, only a moment after you does he finish, hastily pulling himself upwards so he can shoot his load onto the skin of your thighs with a huff, resting his forehead against your navel. You run your hands through his scalp, scratching his skin with your nails gently as you both calm the hell down.

aftercare hcs, a treat for my sweet readers ᥫ᭡.

✎ᝰ Tenya is such a sweetie. He would snuggle forever if you hadn’t gotten up to use the bathroom; even then, he’d stare at the door until you wandered back out, beckoning you to fall back into his warm embrace, which of course, you do. He’d hold onto you so tight, almost as if he was scared you would leave, disappear, dissipate— he draws little shapes over the skin of your back, pressing his strong hands into your skin every once and a while.

He’d continue this act, adding the sensation of kissing the top of your head before you inevitably drag him to the shower with you. He leans down so you can scrub his hair, sighing as you scratch his scalp, his hunky form relaxing ever so slightly under your touch.

THANK YOU FOR READING! if you wish to see more of me, ₊⊹

my carrd

kofi (tip me!)

649 notes · View notes

kisses4reid · 1 year ago

Text

ruined surprises | ·˚ ༘ aaron hotchner ,,

summary - you accidentally find a small, red, velvet box in aaron’s drawers.

genre - fluff, nonbau!reader x aaron, proposals, engagement rings, happy ending

warnings - mentions of anxiety, mixed feelings, um… being proposed to???

w.c. - idk why i put this here i never check before uploading. it’s only like 1k you’ll be okay.

a/n - hey pia why don’t we edit those drafts for the requests- no. ima do my own thing 😏🕷️also pls tell me abt mistakes i did not proof read this lol!

You sat at your dining table staring into space, or more specifically the bare wood in front of you. There were mixed emotions coursing through your veins. You felt as if your blood was changing from pink to green in the ugly mesh of conflicting feelings.

While this revelation brought you happiness and immense excitement, it also brought you fear. You were not supposed to find this, at least not now.

It stood prominent in your pocket, a pandora’s box of possibilities on how Aaron would react to your discovery. Would he be scared? Angry? Sad?

Your fingers picked at your nails as you took steadying breaths. The clock read only 5 minutes before Aaron returns from his vigorous job, 5 minutes before you’d have to reluctantly tell him you found the one thing he had been hiding from you.

The front door opens to your apartment and your palms start sweating in insecurity.

He’s tired, he’s worked all day, maybe it’s not the best time to bring it up. But what if he found out you knew the whole time? You’d be lying to him, and he values honesty above all else. What if it’s not for you? A gift, or maybe even an heirloom? Everything in your head started to doubt the one thing you wanted it to mean.

“Honey?”

Aaron stood at the end of the table, eyebrows low and eyes squinted slightly in concern. Coming home to your favourite person disassociating rigidly wasn’t a very warm welcome home. He would usually be greeted by a kiss, or the smell of a meal, or a bear hug. This was off, this was different.

“Aaron.” You smile, genuinely. Even with your anxiety raising your heartbeat by the second, there’s nothing that can keep you smiling from the sight of your handsome lover. Though the feeling was not long lived.

“Are you okay?” He asks, placing his bag down on the table and loosening his tie slightly.

“I’m… We need to talk.” You say with a gulp. You lowered your head and glanced at his expression quickly. It came out more serious than it needed to be, and honestly Aaron started thinking the worse.

He sat on the chair next to you and searched your avoiding eyes, “Y/n-“

“Before you say anything, and before I tell you about what,” you waved your hands slightly, “we’re actually talking about. I need you to know that if I’m wrong you can’t laugh at me, and you can’t get angry. Okay?”

He nodded more confused than ever. Okay so, the fact that he could possibly laugh from this ‘talk’ was a sign it wasn’t anything too bad. He only wished you’d stop taking deep breaths and get too it.

You sighed, tired of your own stalling before reaching in your back pocket and putting a small, deep red velvet box on the table. Aaron’s dark eyes latched onto the box and he sighed, bringing a hand up to mess with his hair in shock.

“Do you know what’s in there?” Maybe you hadn’t-

You nodded. He nodded back and closed his mouth in a tight lipped grimace. This was not how he planned his proposal to go.

You took a deep breath and quickly defended yourself, “I lost my sports bra, and I thought maybe I put it in your drawers accidentally so I opened them and found… that.”

Aaron looked into your eyes, you looked scared but as he watched your eyes soften he knew that you weren’t scared of the implications, you were scared you had done the wrong thing.

“Thank you for not pretending to be oblivious.” He said smoothly, receiving a small smile in return. It warmed his heart. Jesus, he thought you were breaking up with him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have looked through your stuff. I’ve ruined the surprise, your surprise-“

“It’s okay.” He smiled, bringing his hand over yours, pulling it to his mouth and kissing your knuckles. You smile softly and he continues, “Honestly, it’s a little embarrassing.”

“How?” You tilted your head and furrowed your brows, running your thumb over the back of his hand softly.

“Now you know I want to marry you.” Aaron’s cheeks reddened only slightly, and you laughed to bask in it. It wasn’t often you got your lover blushing.

“You told me you wanted to marry me on our fourth date. Trust me, I remember.”

He laughed this time and looked down at the box. “Did you like the ring?”

“I didn’t get a good look because I shut it immediately. I pinched my finger in the clasp.” You displayed your fingertip as proof, “But from what I saw, it was perfect.”

You didn’t ruin his plans at all, he thought. It wasn’t a terrible revelation, you didn’t give it to him and run away, you didn’t let him down easy. You were honest and turned the moment into a core memory. You laughed. Everything was good when you laughed.

Aaron placed a soft hand on your cheek and placed a loving kiss on your lips, you smiled into it. “You’ll just have to wait longer now.” He whispered jokingly, to which you slapped him on the chest and whined, no fair.

No. What wasn’t fair was that he would get the best life, with the most perfect wife in the world, and others wouldn’t.

But it was hard to feel sorry for others when you were in front of him.

About a month later. Aaron Hotchner decided he couldn’t wait any longer.

Aaron’s arm was on the back rest of the couch, legs stretched on a foot rest and you cross-legged beside him explaining the deep lore behind the movie that was playing in the background. You were blabbering on, voice changing between characters that you tried to imitate, and topic lighting up your face more than the TV screen.

And Aaron’s heart just couldn’t take it. He needed to ask you to marry him more than he needed anything else in the world. Those four words seemed to be the only cure to his love sickness (though he knew it would only get worse).

You laughed at one of your own jokes, and started to calm down your explanation.

“And that’s why the first actor got replaced.” You smiled and placed your hands in your lap, face triumphant. Aaron smiled softly, eyes tracing your face with love and adoration.

“Can I ask you a question?” He asked.

You nodded, thinking it would be about the movie, “Of course.”

“Will you marry me?” He took the familiar velvet box from his sweatpant’s pocket and clicked it open, cheeks hurting in a smile as the ring was exposed to you for the second time. Aaron mentally scolded himself for not having a speech ready but seriously, he had not planned to do it tonight. It was a yearning, a need. Everything he would say to you, he promised to say a million times in your marriage as to not feel guilty about the bland proposal.

You held a hand over your mouth. Eyes glistening quickly, heartbeat seemingly still in your chest.

“Yes, oh my god. Aaron- Yes!” You threw yourself on him and squeezed his shoulders and back in a hug so tight he had to pat your back to get you off.

Not that he wanted you to stop, he just wanted to see you with a ring on your finger as quick as he could.

perm taglist (open!) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover

#criminal minds #aaron hotch oneshot #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x fe!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner x you #🍵 —☆ pia’s pages

958 notes · View notes

taegularities · 3 months ago

Text

from sparks to fire to ashes to a breeze… 👑

candles & flames: breeze 🤍

dropping Sunday, May 4th, around 6-7pm EST. editing, so if it takes longer, i'll postpone by a day or two!

it's going to be around 25k long, but y'all know me – might end up with more, but let's see :D we're 2 scenes in (from around 8) and already at 5k-ish. around 20k long!!! take your time reading it, but please don't forget to give it lots of love once you're done. since we're saying goodbye to them, it'd mean the world <3

this has been on the schedule for so long!! thank you for missing and loving them!! once it drops, and even before then, please hype it up a lot – life has been insane lately and there is a ton to do; so i'd love and need to know that the effort i'm putting into c&f is really worth it and that you guys are around.

if i feel like you aren't, i'll probably shift my focus off again and might have to keep the story stored in my brain bc it's a lot of work, y'all already know :') but i am hopeful you'll come through. 🥺 and i hope the wait's worth it, as always.

this is the last (bonus) chapter <3 see you then 🤍

teaser under the cut! 💕 let's talk about it :]

–

Jungkook plumps down on the carpet, knees pulled in and arms around them. He tilts his head with a tender smile, chest rising before he asks, “Did you have time to think about it? Going home?”

You remember a time not too long ago when you’d sit here like this, too; despite the couch in the back, you’d play with the twins and Hana right here, on this warm carpet, and Jungkook would join after work. You’d place your head on his shoulder and whisper-converse with him.

Sometimes, you’d fall asleep and wake up in his arms, in your bed, with the children secured in theirs. You never needed proof for how gentle Jungkook handles you — but if he could carry you into your room like a feather without disturbing a moment of your sleep, you were at utter peace, right?

He did that to you. He still does; his presence calms you, though it stirs your heart, too.

You want to put your head on his chest again, slumber there. Instead, you nod and say, “I did, yes.”

“And?”

“Hana wants to go.”

His eyes move to the side, down to the floor, then back to you as he tries again, “And what about you?”

You shrug a little. “Can I really refuse my daughter’s wish?”

He moves closer; a very small distance, but noticeable to you. His eyes are intense as he emphasises, “What’s your wish, love?”

Yours? You have a lot of wishes.

Whispered upon falling stars and eyelashes. You can’t utter most of them now, though, can you? But maybe you should. Maybe, rather than the universe, it could be him granting you what you desire.

He can read your thoughts anyway. Because he encourages, “You can share your mind with me. I’m your husband, baby.”

You nod; let something in you break and break until your fingers move, up to one of his knees. He immediately puts a palm onto your digits, holds onto you as you say, “You are.”

“Only yours.”

You inhale deeply. The tears are less these days, but never truly gone. You blink before they can reemerge, quickly adding, “I will go if you want to go. Your wish is my wish.”

“It is?”

“Of course. I am yours, too.”

A rosy colour dusts his cheeks, as if he’s falling in love anew. But his gaze betrays him; still sad when he wonders, “Then… Can I say something very kitschy?”

You feel yourself melt just a little. A hint of a smile graces your face. “Always.”

“My wish is… that I want you back.” He drops his head the moment your heart sinks, too. Even from here, you see the damp waterline. “I want you to be mine the way you were. I wish to give you the same joy I used to. I just…” His voice shakes. “I need my girl back so badly.”

And then, another whisper, stuck in a loop, “I miss you.”

You nod again, tell him, “I know.” Because if you said anything more, you’d cry. You know you would.

He looks up at you, the rims of his eyes red, big eyes trapping the tears in. He sniffles; closes his lids, as if preparing for something. And then asks—

“Do you still love me?”

Do you?

Does he truly need to ask?

His presence still calms you, though it stirs your heart, too.

–

we'll be back <3

#let's get it one last time y'all!!!!#fic: candles & flames #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff

151 notes · View notes

spidermans-l-o-v-e-r · 6 months ago

Text

The Polar Express, 2004

Pairing: Buck x Reader

Word count: 3k

Notes: I don’t think you understand the phone shit I’m going through right now, especially with how I only write on my phone it hurts my FEELINGS so yeah this is not edited and I’ve done my best okay I literally am currently finishing it as I’m typing this

Buck stands at the counter, tapping his fingers against the smooth marble.

“Okay… the cookies are in, the bread is proofing, the cake is cooling, the scones have another 10 or so minutes until they’re ready to be iced…”

He scrolls on his iPad, reading through all his notes and recipes. He was stressed, incredibly stressed, he’d hesitantly asked Athena two weeks ago if he could host Secret Santa and then they’d all migrate over to her place for dinner and presents.

She graciously agreed, it gave her more time to get everything ready and less to stress about on Christmas Day. But now here he is, at one in the morning, the kitchen is a disaster zone that he’s disappointed in because he always cleans as he goes, the cookies aren’t going to have anywhere to cool if he doesn’t get cleaning and he hasn’t even started on buttercream.

Why the hell he thought this was a good idea he doesn’t freaking know, he doesn’t know why he volunteered, he doesn’t know why he put himself through this he doesn’t know why the bag of powdered sugar is on the floor, he doesn’t-

He jumps a little, he hadn’t even heard you pad softly down the stairs, he hadn’t heard you trying to get his attention. It’s like everything just stops as soon as you put your arms around his waist, your hands coming to rest on his chest.

“Buck? You in there?” You ask quietly, you sound sleepy. He takes a deep breath and turns in your arms

“Hey baby” He smiles softly, leaning down to kiss your nose “Did I wake you?”

“Nah, kinda woke up on my own” You rest your chin on his chest, blinking sleepily “You okay?”

“I’m fine, really”

You pull back a little, giving him a skeptical look. His disheveled appearance screams anything but fine. The mess around the kitchen is a little cry for help to sort through the mess that is his anxiety right now.

He just wanted everyone to be proud.

You pull away from him and go over to the little hooks in the corner, grabbing your small pink apron and tying it around you. You grab the matching pink scrunchie with it and pull your hair back.

“What do you need from me, Chef?”

“It would be a big help if you helped me clean up a bit? Maybe watched the cookie timer? And then helped me dip the scones when they’re ready and-“

You come over to the counter and start collecting everything and moving it to the sink, you stand on your toes as you pass and he bends down to peck your lips

“One at a time baby boy,” You tell him calmly “We can handle this”

He melts as you kick your stool in front of the sink and dump everything in to start washing. He always made fun of you for it, but it was easier to rinse from higher up okay.

He sits back for a moment, watching you clean the dishes without any complaining, just…getting straight to work to help him out. He comes over and wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in the back of your neck

“I love you, so fucking much” He mumbles and you smile, leaning into him a little

“I love you too, you’re doing really good Buck. They’re gonna be really impressed”

“I’m just, I’m so worried things won’t turn out”

“You’re seriously talented Evan,” You tell him, glaring at him a little “Don’t let your brain tell you any different”

“Easier said than done” He reaches forward, taking the dish from you and rinsing it

“This would be way sexier if you were helping me with the bread earlier”

You snicker and push him back a little, grabbing the dish and setting it on the rack

“Just start on your buttercream weirdo”

He takes a clean bowl and sets it up on the stand mixer, with you helping keep things clean suddenly his mind isn’t as cluttered, the cookie timer goes off and he doesn’t even have a chance to turn around before you’re pulling them out and setting them down on the counter space you’d cleared for them.

You check on the cake for him as he’s getting the bread into the oven next and then start on the glaze for the scones. He’s watching you mix it by hand while his buttercream goes in the stand mixer and his heart aches at the sight of you, you’ve got bubbles in your hair from the dishes and a little dash of powdered sugar across your face. You smell like fresh lemons and sweet raspberry scones, and god do you look good enough to eat… he doesn’t miss the tiny pajama shorts you’re wearing and one of his large t-shirts slightly tucked into it.

You reach over and pull the little lever to stop the stand mixer and he blinks rapidly

“You’re gonna over mix it” You warn him before going back to your glaze, he looks down at his perfect vanilla butter cream, his perfect raspberry scones you’re dipping and his perfect cake sitting on the counter waiting to be iced.

And then he looks at his perfect you, and suddenly everything isn’t so bad anymore… that anxious tension between his shoulder blades is gone, that slight tremor that nearly ruined his royal icing borders from a batch of cookies earlier is gone…

“What are you doing?” You watch as he puts the crumb-coated-cake into the fridge, lays a tea towel over the cookies and puts the rest of his dishes into the dishwasher

“We can finish those in the morning, it won’t take long”

You set another scone onto the tray and he hands you the next one, his body pressing against yours, soft and warm…and something hard pressing into your side

“I think you forgot to take one of your spatulas from your apron” you chuckle as you swirl the scone through the creamy white glaze and set it on the tray. Buck pushes your hand away as you reach for another and he reaches into the bowl, scooping up some of the sticky, white, mixture.

“Hey! I’ve still got four-“

Your words are cut off as he slides his fingers into your mouth, his lips ghost over the shell of your ear as he pulls you closer to him

“Clean ‘em up for me baby”

You do as he says, running your tongue over his fingers and sucking them clean, he kisses your neck softly, fucking your mouth with them before pulling them away with a wet pop.

“Good girl”

He unties your apron, setting it aside before taking your shirt off next, his hands come up your sides, leaving a trail of flour. He palms your breasts running his thumbs over your nipples and you let out a shuddering sigh as they pebble under the cool air and his touch

“Every day I fall more and more in love with you” He mumbles, kissing you with a heated passion, his tongue slipping past your lips as you gasp. He grabs your hips tighter and sits you on the counter, stepping between your legs

“I know what you mean” you reach behind you, twirling the honey wand before pulling it back out and letting the sticky substance drip down over your breasts

His eyes widen as he watches the golden liquid trickle down your chest, pooling in your cleavage. He licks his lips, his cock twitching with anticipation.

“Fuck, that's hot” he breathes, his hands trembling slightly as he reaches out to trace a finger through the honey, gathering it up before bringing it to his mouth.

“Mmm, you taste even sweeter than I imagined” he murmurs, his tongue swirling around his finger.

He leans down, his tongue darting out to lap at the honey on your skin, his hands cupping your breasts and kneading them gently. He takes his time, savoring every drop, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin.

His hands reach down, tugging on your panties and you lift your hips as he pulls them off. He runs his fingers through your soaked folds teasingly

“So fuckin’ wet for me already, aren’t you?”

He slips his fingers inside you, his thumb rubbing against your clit and you pant softly, leaning back on your elbows as he fucks you, his fingers curl upward and you gasp desperately, letting your head fall back, pressing your back into the flour covered counters. Your hands come up to tug at the roots of your hair, sugar sticking to your forearms as he works you open with his fingers. He pulls his fingers away, licking them clean and you whimper at the empty feeling

“Shhh baby” He drops his basketball shorts and his cock springs out, hard and thick, the tip leaking precum already. It drips down from the tip of his cock and you lick your lips as he steps onto your little stool

“Arent you already tall enough??” You poke at him and he grabs your hips, dragging you to his cock. He rubs his tip through your glistening lips, staring into your eyes with so much love and adoration.

“Just gives me a better angle to make love to you” He rocks his hips, shallowly thrusting the tip in and you gasp, biting your lip.

“You’re so pretty baby” He teases your clit again, rubbing slow torturous circles until he finally slowly pushes forward, his cock sliding deep inside your tight walls. He groans at the sensation, his eyes rolling back in pleasure and you sigh dreamily, your eyes rolling back too.

He sets a slower pace, flour covered hands leaving prints behind as he thrusts slow and hard, his hips kissing yours each time. He growls lowly, a primal noise coming from his chest as he works you on his cock.

His hands roam your body, caressing your tits, your stomach, your thighs, leaving trails of flour and sugar in their wake. He picks up the pace, his hips snapping against yours, the intense sound filling the kitchen and echoing in your ears as he slowly starts to lose control

“Holy shit, Buck” You pant, arching your back up and moaning for him, your heart pounds in your ears in time with his thrusts and you slowly remember the reason you’re always so gone for him

He moans deeply, placing his palms flat on the counter and rutting into you and you whimper with each thrust, your mind spinning at the way he fills you up.

“I want, I want to try something” He pulls out slowly, his chest heaving as he rubs his thumb through your soaked folds. You squirm underneath him and his finger keeps going, your eyes nearly pop out of your head as he pushes against that tight ring of muscle

“You think it’s been too long since we…?” He manhandles you onto your stomach, helping you place your knees on the counter

“N-no I think- I think I could handle that”

“You really think so?” He reaches forward and you just see a jar disappearing from your peripheral vision “I don’t wanna push you”

You put your forehead against your hands waiting with bated breath, his hand slides over your ass, pulling your cheeks apart and your back arches deeper. What he doesn’t know is that this was definitely going to be apart of his Christmas present this year and you’d been wearing a plug all week before taking it out before bed.

“Jesus you’re gonna give me a heart attack with the way you’re presenting yourself” He chuckles lightly. You hear a soft “tink” before you feel the sweet honey dripping over your ass, he moans as it slides down over your pretty, puffy lips and he can’t take it anymore.

You squeak as he dives in, your ass spread wide as he licks at your hole, his moans vibrate up your spine and pretty soon you’re moaning with him. He pulls away, drizzling a little more honey over your hole and kissing your cheek before pulling your legs down so you’re hanging off the counter.

“You ready for me baby?” He spreads your cheeks again and spits, and you squeak. He gives your ass a little smack, smirking

“Earth to bunny”

“I’m ready” you punctuate your words with a little shake of your hips and he takes the honey wand again, drizzling some over his cock and stroking it slowly before lining himself up. He taps your cheek lovingly before pushing into you carefully.

Your jaw drops slowly at the intense pressure as he slides into you. He groans loudly, his palms sliding over your body as he lays against you, his chest firm against your back.

“Feels so g-good Bunny” his hips stutter as he tries to keep from plowing right into you. He works you on his cock slowly, getting you used to his size again and you lay plastered against the counter, moaning softly and taking everything he’s giving you.

“You think you can take me harder baby? Faster?” His teeth are gritted, like he’s fighting even harder now to hold back and that sends a thrill right down to your core. He feels so impossibly big in your ass, stretching you in a way he hasn’t in a good while.

“I can handle it” You reassure him again, eagerly moving your hips on his cock and he grins wickedly

“Thats my slutty little Bunny”

He takes it slow for a minute, working you up to a faster pace before you’re making little squeaking sounds again with every rough thrust. His hands leave sticky fingerprints behind, marking your body with all the dirty things he’s doing to you. He drizzles more honey over his cock as he thrusts in and out, moaning at the little tendrils that stick you together over and over.

You reach out, holding onto the heavy stand mixer to brace yourself as he pins you down to the counter, his hand on the back of your neck

“You're so fucking sexy like this, spread out for me, taking my cock like a good little slut” he growls, his words filthy and degrading, but filled with a twisted sort of affection.

You babble in response and it just drives him crazier, he holds your hips in hands, definitely leaving behind bruises that you absolutely welcome.

Your eyes roll back and you dig your head into the counter, he reaches backward awkwardly for a second and rips a towel from the stove, he leans forward pushing inside you deeper and you cry out his name, your legs shaking.

“I’m sorry baby” he snickers, lifting your head gently and putting the towel underneath it, it’s not much but it’s something. His movements become a bit slower, deeper, and you grip that stand mixer with everything left in you as he makes love to you. His hand slides over your torso, his fingers rubbing your clit slowly, and you let out a shuddering little sigh

“There’s my pretty girl, nothin’ in that head of yours but my cock huh? Love it when you get this way”

You nod dumbly at him and he groans, his head falling back as his hips smack into yours rougher, his finger start rubbing your clit faster and you arch your back and bring your knees to your chest. He holds them in place, hissing at how tight you are around him, his pace becomes erratic again as he loses his mind inside you.

He messily places your hand over your clit and sinks his fingers inside you. You shriek as he plunges his cock in and out of your ass, his fingers working in tandem in your pussy

“Come on bunny, fuck cum for me please, I need to see you fall apart first please bunny please”

His whiny, begging, tone sends you over the edge as you scream his name, tears streaming down your face as your back arches fully off the counter and you squirt over his fingers, he moans your name loudly as he finishes inside you, fucking his cum as deeply as he can into you. He rolls his hips with each thrust before holding it inside you, pushing into you.

You lay on the counter stunned, your body shaking as you let your body turn to jelly underneath him. You weakly wipe at the tears on your face and he steps down off the stool, sliding you off the counter with him and staggers over to the couch. He plops down heavily onto it, before letting his body fall slump down, keeping his arms tightly around you.

You lay together for a while, panting softly in his neck while he rubs your back soothingly, occasionally placing weak little kisses to your temple. He can’t move very much either after that and neither of you have a problem with this.

He’s distractedly humming underneath the tree when he suddenly shifts a little, getting you both more comfy

“I think I broke my dick”

You snort into his chest as he grabs the blanket from the back of the couch and tosses it haphazardly over the two of you.

“I don’t think you broke your dick” you tell him and he scoffs

“How would you know? It’s inside you, you can’t see it!”

“Okay. By that logic, neither can you. Buck I think we’d know if you broke your dick… if that’s even possible”

“Oh it is, I’ve seen it before” his eyes close and you lift your head, looking at his peaceful expression as he starts to fall asleep.

“You’ve seen a broken dick before???”

Suddenly his bread alarm goes off and he jumps, accidentally knocking you off of him and onto the floor.

“My bread!!”

“My kidneys”

#words by rhys #rhys writes #911 x reader #911 fox #911 show #911 abc #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #911 #911 fanfic #rhyskinkmas24 #kinkmas 2024

169 notes · View notes

faevi · 1 year ago

Note

hello!!! I saw that you wrote lifeguard Levi before, requesting lifeguard Gojo, smut 🙏 🙏 🙏

Jellyfish Sting // Gojo.

Scenario: Ouch! Stung by a jellyfish. Good thing Lifeguard Gojo Satoru is here to save the day… Oh, and make you feel reeeaaaallll good.

Word Count: 16,681.

Content / Trigger Warnings: female reader (she/her), lifeguard!gojo, cunnilingus, blowjob, handjob, fingering, sexual intercourse, unprotected, creampie, exhibitionism, public, outdoors, beach sex, dirty talk, pet-names (mostly princess), a jellyfish sting(?), jokes of piss, big dick gojo, stomach bulge, phone call whilst sex happens, people walking by, spanking, massaging, praise, dom!gojo / taking orders, breathplay (via dick and blocking airways), weird position (idk if it has a name but on gojo’s shoulders as he holds you up as he . . .), rough, breast worshipping, finger sucking / consuming cum. all completely consensual.

I think that's it! Please (kindly) let me know if I missed something.

Note: A request is done, woo !! Again like I usually say - not my best. AHAHA. I try !! I didn’t proof-read or edit so forgive if there’s any mistakes, just ignooooore. Lifeguard Gojo is… drools. Very yum. I think that’s about it? ; - ; Thank you for waiting. If you’re reading this and enjoyed it, please let me know !! <333 I’m a slut for kind words. Like usual, I’ll try to do better with my writing. Also hopefully this one doesn’t get fl*gged like my other one :))))))))).

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!!!

The sun is blazing hot even amongst the few clouds in the sky. If it wasn’t for the sunscreen, you were sure you’d be burnt to a crisp. Truth be told, you didn’t even want to be outside today but, your friends whined about wanting to go to the beach and what kind of friend would you be to deny them that? Still, the weather could be a lot worse than it is and it’s the perfect season for cute bikinis to wear.

You quickly glance down at yourself, admiring the shade of red of your bikini and the flimsy strings tied into cute bows before sighing out softly, feeling content to just sit beneath the large umbrella that you rented with your small group of friends. They’re near the shoreline, playfully splashing each other and there’s a pang of guilt within you for not joining them so quickly. “Come on, Y/N. You won’t die.” You mumble to yourself, shifting yourself from your laying position until you’re up on your feet, carefully bending down so your head doesn’t hit the umbrella. It’s just a bit of sun. Besides, there’s a nice breeze and lifeguards here to save you— If you really do end up in danger. You look over to the tall chair, squinting a little to inspect the lifeguard that’s on duty in this area.

Your eyes travel a bit south of his body and you feel like all of the air was just knocked out of you and leaving you winded. Okay, so maybe his figure is gorgeous. Well-defined muscles. Really, well defined. That must be an eight-pack and how is that realistically possible? Even his legs look nice and long. Soft white hair that makes your fingers twitch with the urge to touch. His skin is clearly well taken care of when he’s out in the sun most days. Wait a minute— Was he looking at you? Even with distance, you can clearly see his head is turned in your direction, sunglasses not truly covering his eyes that you swear are looking your way. No… He’s probably just checking the general area.

He’s smirking at you. You’ve been caught.

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, thankful to see that his co-worker is suddenly grabbing his attention and so before you’re truly distracted, you stomp through the sand towards your friends. Whatever. You just wanted to double-check check someone was on duty. That’s all it is. “Y/N, finally!” One of your friends whines playfully, latching around your neck to cling to you. “We were wondering when you’d join us. Sitting all alone is boring, y’know.” Your friend continues and you laugh softly, gently patting her back. “I was playing the main character in hopes that the hot lifeguard would look my way.” You say, giggling along with your friends as you glance towards the lifeguard once more.

He’s off the seat now and you couldn’t ignore the obvious sight of tight red shorts low on his hips, the v-line tempting you to want to see further. You feel like some nasty side of you is starting to awaken. You didn’t even pay attention to his hot co-worker; long black hair tied up and your friend clinging onto you gushing about his smile. He’s cute, you couldn’t deny that but, the white-haired lifeguard… There’s something about him.

“Quickly, one of us needs to start drowning.” Your other friend says and you playfully smack her shoulder. “Let’s all just actually swim.” You say, dragging your friends into the warm salty water. It didn’t take long for you to fool around with your friends, briefly oblivious to a certain lingering gaze on your figure. Even with hatred towards the heat, you find yourself grateful for visiting the beach. It’s comforting; to be able to spend time playing around with your friends before the days get busy again.

You grin as you splash one of your friends in retaliation to her own and the pair of you try to dodge each other’s attacks before there’s a sly smile on her face and she floats closer. “Mister lifeguard really does love looking at you~.” She teases and your mouth opens to respond, only for a sharp cry to escape your lips. There’s a painful stinging sensation across your leg and out of instinct, you begin to kick your leg as you flail away from the general area. “What? What is it!” One of the friends says, frantically taking a hold of you.

Usually, you have a high tolerance for pain, but nothing could stop the tears from appearing and threatening to spill as your lower leg area throbs. “J-Jellyfish!” You gasp out your warning, grabbing a hold of your friend who was clinging onto you and begin to swim back to the shoreline before you stumble onto the sand. A mere jellyfish managed to brush its nasty tentacles up against your leg. You plop your ass down against the sand, bringing your leg closer to try and inspect the unpleasant sting, biting back your soft whimpers of pain. “It’s just a sting, don’t worry.” You try to reassure your group of friends who are surrounding you and showing obvious signs of panic. You could feel the area throb, witnessing as it swells up and the parts where the tentacles actually touch flare up. You scrunch your face up, fingers digging into the sand as you try to not show how much it hurts. You didn’t want your friends to panic further. It’s a rather small incident compared to what could happen out in the ocean.

“What’s going on, girlies?”

You turn your head in the direction of the deep voice, eyes instantly making contact with a crystal blue pair, the sunglasses low on the bridge of the lifeguard’s nose. It’s the white-haired one. You feel like you could potentially faint from a mixture of pain and having his gorgeous existence right in front of your very eyes. You quickly glance to notice his co-worker is next to him, they’re both appearing rather concerned. Your friends back off to give space as they both kneel next to you, feeling your cheeks heating up quickly. “It’s nothing, honestly! I just got stung by a jellyfish.” You explain hastily, hands coming up to wave in dismissal, not wanting to distract the hot lifeguards from their actual job.

You feel something graze gently against your cheek and you finally snap your focus to the touch. The white-haired lifeguard’s finger wipes away a tear that managed to escape, offering a comforting smile before looking towards the large sting area and letting out a low whistle. “It got you pretty good.” He begins, leaning to the side to allow his co-worker to inspect the inflamed part of your leg. You’re too focused on the white-haired male with the sunglasses. His lips soon twist to form a playful smirk.

“Want me to piss on it?”

You felt like your mind completely malfunctioned and went into overdrive from hearing such a filthy question. Instantly, his co-worker smacks him across the back of his head and the playful lifeguard whines dramatically, hands coming up to the back of his head. “Don’t ever offer that stupid idea again, Satoru. You know that’s a myth. You’re going to traumatise the poor girl.” His co-worker sighs and all you could really focus on is the fact that you now know his name. Satoru.

Satoru rolls his eyes, lips forming what must be his signature pout as his hands come down to tenderly guide your leg closer to him. “I doubt she’d be traumatised from a bit of urine, Suguru. I was just joking.” He grumbles, noticing the way your friends appeared disgusted by the idea and yet, you’re simply flustered and avoiding eyes. Cute, is all Satoru can think. “Ladies, your friend—“ He pauses, looking your way.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N will be completely fine. I’ll take her up to the lifeguard tower and you guys can keep having fun. Suguru will keep watch.” Satoru expresses and you look towards your friends, all looking concerned. Even over a jellyfish sting. “I’m okay! Keep having fun, I’ll be good in no time.” You say hastily, maybe a bit too eager to be alone with the white-haired male. Hopefully, it’s not too obvious. Your friends continue to give looks of worry and even guilt about leaving you alone, but you simply give them a smile of reassurance as you press your hands against the warm sand, intending to move so you’re standing.

Instead, you feel a rush of air around you and something strong yet comforting wrapping around your body; one around the back of your knees and the other around your shoulders. You didn’t expect your mind to shortcircuit for the second time so soon as you managed to process that the pair of ‘something’ was Satoru’s toned arms lifting you with ease until he was carrying you bridal style. You let out an awkward laugh, ignoring how hot your face feels as you glance up at his smirking face. “It’s just a jellyfish sting, I’m sure I can walk.” You say quite timidly, ignoring the lingering gazes from both your friends and Satoru’s co-worker.

The white-haired male simply looks down at your face, pearly whites exposed as he grins a little, voice low and smug. “Princesses get carried, no? Come on.” He says, turning his broad back to the group as he begins to walk away. Trying to appear casual by rubbing your face as if something itches; you’re actually trying to hide your own giddiness from hearing his words, even noticing how careful he was with carrying you to not touch the area of your leg on where the jellyfish stung you. Satoru continues to walk through crowds of people on the beach, further up towards the tower, completely unphased by the burning sun against his pale skin. He briefly wonders to himself if he could manage to convince someone as cute as you to reapply sunscreen on spots he can’t reach.

Satoru should feel terrible for already thinking such selfish things but, in his defence? He could tell the attraction was mutual the second he caught you looking at him. It’s a miracle he was even looking away at that moment because the moment he saw you and your friends set up on the beach, he refused to move post with Suguru or other co-workers; insisting he stays on guard for that section of the beach. Just so he could continue to selfishly watch you for his own pleasure. He clears his throat to snap out of his deep thoughts. “So, I have a feeling that you’re not actually a fan of the beach, Y/N.”

You puff your cheeks out, head briefly resting against his shoulder as he continues to carry you. The muscles in his arms didn’t even twitch to show exhaustion. He was perfectly fine with holding you for a long time. “What gives you that idea? Have you been watching me?” You tease lightly, internally wondering where on Earth the confidence suddenly comes from. “Yeah, you’ve caught my eye.” The lifeguard replies, finally at the steps of the tower, looking down at you. You quickly look down, feeling even more exposed than before. Especially in your skimpy bikini. You couldn’t deny the happiness that seemed to ignite in your heart from hearing the lifeguard’s words. You’ve caught his eye. Out of everyone on that beach, it’s you. You sigh softly.

“I don’t hate the beach, I actually quite like it. I just feel like I’m going to dramatically burn to death or something from how hot the sun is. That aside, maybe I’ve found something to make me enjoy the beach more than before. Even the sun can’t stop it… or the sting.” You hastily add as you still feel your lower leg throbbing. Being with the hot lifeguard can only do so much. You watch as his lips curl and eyebrows twist to form a frown. “Right. Hold on.” He says, tightening his large hands against your body as he carries you up the steps of the tower before reaching the top. The door is already open as he steps inside sideways and your eyes notice another pair of gorgeous lifeguards sitting in front of the large windows that look down upon the beach. One with his blonde hair slicked back and keeping his body covered with the lifeguard jacket and longer shorts. You notice he’s wearing glasses. The other is another male; with long hair tied up into two messy buns and a bold tattooed line across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. They both tilt their heads towards you.

Satoru presses you against him as he holds you, refusing to let you stand. He really is giving you the princess treatment for just a jellyfish sting. “Utahime left for the day already, Nanami?” Satoru asks, stepping in the direction of the back of the tower. The blonde male simply nods, eyes focused on you for the moment. You offer a timid smile, looking down towards your fidgeting hands. “What happened with her?” The other lifeguard asks, glancing towards you before returning their gaze towards the windows, and picking up a pair of binoculars. “Jellyfish sting, nothing too bad but I’d rather treat it than let her sit out in the sun and wait for the pain to go. Quicker this way, Choso. Anyways, don’t mind us.” Satoru insists, waiting for the pair to be distracted with their job before he truly moves to the back, behind a set of curtains.

“You really didn’t have to bring me all the way over here. I could have waited it out.” You say softly, not wanting to disturb the peace of the lifeguard tower as the white-haired male carefully sets you down on the mattress of the medical bed, allowing your legs to dangle off the side. Satoru whips the curtain further shut to give you both privacy, looking down at you as he reveals a slight crooked grin. “Can you just let me pretend to do my job so I can have you to myself?” He teases and automatically, your thighs begin to clench together as you feel a stir of excitement within you. “That and I’d rather actually ease the pain of the sting. It’d be quicker here than out there. Didn’t you want to get out of the sun?” He reminds, plopping his ass down onto the stool as he rolls over to the counter.

Maybe it’s because of his own flirtatious ways that you find a side of you awakening. That must be it for your words. “Well, I definitely wanted to get out of the sun with you, mister lifeguard.” You say so sweetly, your eyes lingering on the tiny red shorts that just tighten further around his toned legs. Satoru feels a boost to his own ego at your shy words, setting a bucket under the tap before adjusting for hot water, looking your way. “A princess with a sweet tongue. What a weakness of mine. Let’s focus on the sting for a moment.” He says, soon lifting the bucket out of the sink, and grabbing a spray bottle full of vinegar before setting them down. “Various remedies, different strokes for different folks. They all work, usually. It’s a relief we don’t live in an area with dangerous types. Otherwise, I’d be running to the hospital with you in my arms. What would you prefer to try to soothe the pain?” He asks, hands rubbing along his toned thighs.

Truth be told, you could barely focus on his words of wisdom. You’re far too distracted by his pretty hands against his thighs. “The hot water..” You manage to respond and Satoru simply smiles, noticing how distracted you appear to be. “Or you could just look at my pretty face as a distraction until the pain is gone. That might take longer.” He teases and you couldn’t help but whine, playfully kicking in his direction. “Stooooop, you’re making me flustered.” You whisper, not wanting the other lifeguards to hear as your walls quickly come down in Satoru’s presence. It already feels like you’ve known him for so long. He chuckles, bringing the bucket of hot water closer as he sets it between you and himself before gesturing for you to scoot to the edge of the bed. The white-haired male bends down, tenderly taking hold of your ankle before guiding your foot into the hot water. It’s big enough so the water completely covers up the throbbing sting area and you hiss gently from the heat.

Your fingers grip the edge of the thin mattress, breathing in deeply. It’s slow but, the sting is starting to subside already, causing your body to relax with relief. Satoru’s large hand rests against your bare thigh, giving a gentle squeeze and nails scraping along your soft skin. “You think this method is good enough for you?” His voice is soft, as if he wants his co-workers not to disturb him, his thumb rubbing in a circular motion against your flesh. You feel like your gut is twisting from the lifeguard’s touch, gaze fixated on his bare abdomen on display for only your eyes to see. “Yeah..” You breathe out softly, making sure to keep your foot in the bucket of hot water and your eyes already becoming droopy. His touch feels so good... You wonder what else his hands could do.

You snap out of your thoughts when he pulls away, standing up from the stool and before he can move away, two of your fingers suddenly hook beneath the elastic of his lifeguard shorts, preventing him from moving. “Oh? Attached to me already, are you? Don’t worry, princess. I’m just going over there.” He teases as he jabs his thumb in the direction of the counter. Flustered, you quickly let go and look away. He bites back an amused smile, setting the spray bottle filled with vinegar back on the counter before he begins to look through the drawers. Your eyes automatically look his way to watch his movements, wondering what he’s looking for. “You’re not going back out, are you? It— It just hurts a lot, I’m afraid something might happen to me if no one’s around.” You ramble, cringing at your own obvious lies.

Satoru snorts gently, picking up a tube of cream and smacks it lightly against his hand as he makes his way back to the stool, ever so casually. “Now after hearing that, I can’t dare leave the princess all alone, even though there are lifeguards on the other side of the curtain, can I?” He sits back down, rolling close enough to stretch out his arms until both of his hands are on either side of you, trapping you within. You couldn’t even look him in the eye; finding that his piercing blue orbs are impossible to not drown in. “I wasn’t planning to leave, it’s near the end of my shift. I’ll stay with you.” Satoru reassures, playfully tapping the tube of cream against your thigh, his gaze obvious and hot against your figure. “How’s the leg?” He asks.

You slide your leg out of the bucket of water and look down. It’s not stinging as much and you can see the bumpy lines of where the tentacles touched you. “It doesn’t hurt as much.” You say and Satoru reaches over to grab a towel, placing it across his lap and pats it. You couldn’t help but smile before lifting your leg until you rested it against him. Carefully, he pats your leg dry before grabbing the tube of cream. “This will help further. May I?” He asks, already squirting the cream onto the tips of his long fingers, confident to hear you give permission. Although fixated on the length of his fingers, you manage to nod your head and he smears it gently across the inflamed area. He’s careful as he massages it in with his fingers and you continue to watch, feeling a little breathless. Even the numbing pain that is starting to subside couldn’t distract you from focusing on the gorgeous lifeguard.

Satoru tilts his head down to prevent you from seeing his amused smirk as his ears manage to pick up the softest whine that escapes you from his touch. He’s a little selfish in the fact that his other hand joins in to tenderly massage your leg. If anyone asks why he’s taking so long; it really is for your benefit. He does care that you got stung, after all. It’s not pleasant. “Are you going home after this? If not, it might be best to bandage it just to keep it covered for now.” Satoru says, wiping his hands dry against the sides of his red shorts. You pause when you hear the question. All of your belongings are still back with your friends and they probably expect you to return before going home at least but… something else was on your mind.

You bite down on your lip, courage flowing through your veins as your foot on his lap presses down against his toned thigh, daringly close to a particularly sensitive area for a man. You watch as a white eyebrow arches and he peeks at you beneath his circular shades. “When exactly does your shift end?” You ask quietly, glancing towards the closed curtain. Satoru sighs out softly, closing his eyes for a moment as he focuses on the pressure of your foot. You’re not going straight home, it seems. He tugs his phone out to inspect the time, leaning over to hastily snatch up the roll of bandages before tucking his phone away. “In about ten. Why? Do you want me all to yourself?” He teases, thumb pressing the bandage against your leg to hold it in place as he begins to wind it around, eyes never leaving your face.

“Surely there are some secluded areas on the beach that you work on. That must be pretty and fun to be alone with a girl..” You say, unable to stop the sheepish giggle from escaping your lips. Since when could you be so bold? He ties a firm knot before nudging your foot off of his lap to roll his stool closer. He’s tall enough even when he’s sitting and you are on a higher surface, that he’s face to face with you. The lifeguard is so close that you can feel his warm breath fan against your lips. Fuck. You clench your thighs together as best as you can without being so obvious. You should have worn black if you knew there would be a ridiculously hot lifeguard on the scene because you just know there’s a damp patch forming on the bright red fabric of your bikini.

“I can think of a few areas, perhaps. Promise me that you’ll be all mine as I show you around? I mean, if someone disturbs us… I won’t be stopping.” He warns, voice deep and smooth. The words send shivers up your spine and you lean in to playfully bump your nose against his. “Wouldn’t want you to stop, Satoru. I mean, it’s the least I can do for the lifeguard who saved me from a jellyfish sting.” You tease sweetly, fingers ghosting along his toned bicep. He curses beneath his breath, bending down until his forehead meets your bare shoulder. He’s impatient. If it was up to him, the white-haired male would already be bending you over the edge of the medical bed and fucking you in front of his co-workers. Still, it will be exciting to have some fun on a beach where anyone could walk by.

“Such an honour to treat the princess. Now, to waste time—“ He pauses, pulling away as he stands up and walks out from behind the curtain. You automatically pout at him leaving you, gripping the edge of the bed as you wait. Satoru snatches the large bottle of sunscreen from the front of Nanami and Choso, offering a wide grin. Nanami holds his hand up to stop Satoru from speaking. “I don’t want to know.” Nanami says before crossing his arms and continuing to watch. The white-haired male rolls his eyes, grumbling to himself before he returns to you from behind the curtain and sighs. “Do me a favour? I can’t reach anywhere.” Satoru says, placing the sunscreen next to you and you couldn’t help but grin a little. He’s too cute in a way.

You jump to your feet with eagerness, ignoring the dull ache that lingers beneath the bandage and squirt a generous amount of the white liquid into the palm of your hand, oblivious to Satoru’s intense gaze. He’s staring at you, eyes clouded with a mixture of endearment and hot desire. Satoru isn’t feeling attached. Not like that. At least, not yet. Surely any guy would find it difficult to not be endeared by your cute actions, especially when you seem so eager to please him with such a simple task. You grimace a little as it threatens to drip over the side of your hand and approach the tall male, offering him a sickly sweet smile. “Come here, please.” You say and you both meet each other in the middle of the small medic area, chest to chest.

With cheeks feeling hot, you step back slightly before slapping your hand against his firm chest and he grunts a little, lips parting to tease you about not being sexy enough; only to choke on his own saliva. His piercing blue eyes are intense with the gaze, staring down at both of your hands that are now against his toned chest and starting to smear the sunscreen, nice and slow. Your hands seem so much smaller compared to his and just that alone enough is driving his mind wild from the size difference; filthy images of you being practically bent in half before him. Flexible or not, Satoru knows he’d manhandle you into the position he craves.

You could feel his chest rising and falling beneath your hands, biting down on your lip as you began to allow your hands to explore further south, fingers tracing along the beautifully defined muscle lines of his abdomen. You could feel how rock solid and hot he feels from living beneath the sun as a career, hands eager to rub in the sunscreen. You wouldn’t want him to get burned by the sun after all. What kind of princess would let their ‘hero’ suffer like that? No. It’s your job to please him in every way possible, just like you want to. Your fingertips trace along the v-line that travels further down and to an area you shouldn’t reach. Except, you dip your fingers just beneath the elastic and look up into his blue eyes.

“I just have a feeling your upper thighs might get exposed to the sunlight later. Best to be careful. Right?” You hum, tilting your head slightly as you spread the last of the sunscreen along his upper thighs, daring to glide close to the middle but, not far enough. Satoru merely grunts in response, eyes now looking upwards and you could practically see him beg himself to stay in control and not snap. It’s so hard to do that. Another hard thing happens to be his cock. He can feel himself hardening as you tease him further, length straining against the already tight boardshorts. You look down, lips parting in awe to see the outline of how thick and long he is. Is that even humanly possible? You’ve been with guys before but, they were never built like this.

In silent admiration over his giant length straining, your nails graze along the top of his thighs before you slip your hands out. You inspect the upper body area to see the light glisten of sunscreen before you pump some more into your hands and carefully, lower yourself onto your knees. The curtain isn’t long enough that it reaches the floor. If Satoru’s lifeguards look back for even a second, they’d be able to see the glimpse of you kneeling on the ground, looking like you’re doing something so sinful behind the curtains. Satoru notices it instantly and that alone is enough to cause him to sigh heavily and drag his fingers through his white hair. “Y/N, cheeky little girl..” He breathes out as you begin to rub the sunscreen into his legs. You look up to see his crystal blue eyes admiring the sight of you kneeling before him and you merely smile in response.

“I want to cover every inch of you so you’re safe from the sun, that’s all. Although… I won’t smother your cock in sunscreen. I’ll protect that part of you with my, hm.. mouth? Pussy? The sun won’t get you there.” You say soft enough for only Satoru to hear and his hand now travels to cover his mouth in almost disbelief from your filthy words. He’d even say he was close to feeling flustered for the first time in his life; never expecting the timid girl who insisted she’d be okay to suddenly have skyrocketing confidence that only riles him up further. He looks at the time of his watch and curses. You really are taking your sweet time to caress every part of his body and teasing him with scratches from your nails and gentle squeezes. He needs to get you out of here.

“Sweetheart, with all due respect— Please hurry up so I can fucking get you out of here.” Satoru says, fingers gliding through your hair to grip on, pulling nice and slow so you could feel the tugging pain on each strand. Fuck. The aching pain floods you with excitement and desperation to obey his words and so you hastily get to your feet, leaning up on your toes to ghost your lips across his. A near kiss. “Sorry, I just love to worship.” You say, giggling as he leans forward to try and complete the kiss. He rolls his eyes, though the corners of his lips twitch and he turns around. With haste, you squirt the last amount of sunscreen to lather across his broad back, admiring his wide shoulders and the movements of his muscles as you rub in the white liquid down along the length of his body before pulling away. “All done! How did I do?” You ask, grinning.

He turns around, almost melting at the sight of you and takes hold of your smaller hand with his much bigger one. “Perfect— My good girl. Please tell me you’re still good to go protection-wise.” He says, eager to leave. You couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t long ago when you applied sunscreen and so with your free hand, you give him the thumbs up. The lifeguard sighs with relief before he begins to pull you out from behind the curtain, reaching for his backpack with his spare hand to swing over his shoulder. “Alright, I’m off to fuck— I mean off the clock and going home.” Satoru jokes and you feel yourself flush with heat. Even knowing this man for just over an hour and you’re not really surprised by his crude behaviour with his co-workers. Still, it leaves you flustered. Satoru merely grins at his co-workers who roll their eyes before he pulls you out of the open doorway, nudging his sandals close to your feet. Your heart flutters and you slide your feet into them, noticing how big they are on your feet.

“I can’t believe you just said that.” You whine softly and Satoru guides you down the steps carefully, not wanting you to trip over. He simply chuckles, shoulders shrugging. “Not ashamed and I’m a proud man when I get what I want.” Satoru says, feet meeting the sand. You playfully bump your head against his shoulder, fingers lacing with his. “What about your feet? Aren’t they hot?” You ask with a small pout and instantly, Satoru’s heart clenches at the sight. “Used to it and would prefer your feet protected— Come on, my dick is dying.” He says, gently tugging you along. You would have scolded him for his bluntness if it wasn’t holding some truth for yourself. You, yourself, felt like you were dying from not already being stuffed full of his throbbing length as he pounds into oblivion, claiming you on the beach that you’re sharing with hundreds of others.

Satoru is eagerly pulling you along the beach, glancing every so often to make sure you’re not struggling; whether with his large shoes or the jellyfish sting but, it seems you were just as eager for the crowd to start thinning out as you walk horizontally along with the ocean. Both of your hearts are pounding with excitement, too deep in focus to hold a conversation. That can happen later. You’re still facing a bit of disbelief. How can a ridiculously attractive man, who basically pours out godly energy; want you? After just an hour or so. It’s dangerous realistically speaking and yet, you’re desperate to have him. To please the lifeguard with your own two hands and mouth. Even more.

Satoru continues to drag you along, shades covering his eyes as he glances across the beach. You’ve both been walking for so long now that it’s not part of the popular tourist spot on the beach. People rarely come down this way because he and other lifeguards express that the waters can become dangerous and it’s preferred to situate yourselves within the flags. It’s been about five minutes since he saw the last person lounging on the sand and frankly, he’s had enough. Why walk a further ten minutes just to be extra careful? No one’s around. Even if someone did appear, it’s not going to stop him from touching you. Truth be told, Satoru loves the thrill of being caught and showing off what belongs to him. Even if only temporary.

He finally comes to a stop and you’re panting softly; a mixture of excitement and tiredness from walking beneath the hot sun that is only just now beginning to set. Slowly. White strands of hair fall over his eyes as he looks down at you, unable to stop himself from cooing at the cute sight of you clinging onto his hand, looking like a lost little lamb for the taking. “Sweet girl, I think this is far enough. Here—“ He pauses, tightening his hold on you as he moves up towards the tall cliffs that provide shade. You feel like your cheeks doubled in heat from his words, following him until he suddenly twirls you around and you stumble towards the face of the cliff.

His large hand presses against your lower back, preventing you from making a rough impact on the rock surface. It’s rather smoothed out, not too painful to lean your back against and you look up at him. His free hand presses against the cliff beside your face, easily towering above you. He pushes the sunglasses up until they sit comfortably on top of his head, strands of hair pushed back to expose his forehead. Already, loose strands begin to fall back down, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is you. He drops his backpack to the side. “The ocean years ago used to reach up to the cliff, slowly washed away the roughness. Perfect to pin you up against, don’t you think?” Satoru says, deep voice sounding almost like magic with the gentle waves in the background.

Your heart is hammering, feeling the slightly jagged rocks against your bare back, but he’s right. It’s the only perfect surface in such an outdoor space. Frankly, you don’t care. You don’t even care anymore about being out in the open. You were nervous before, but all you see is Satoru. Your fingers ghost up along his bare arms before you snake your arms around his neck, leaning up onto the tip of your toes. He bends down so his lips are over yours. “Hurry up and fuck me.” You whisper, soon feeling his soft tiers crashing against yours. Satoru with patience completely out the window; kisses you with fierce passion. He feels fucking starved when it comes to you. The lifeguard noticed you and your friends the moment you set up beneath the umbrella and he struggled to do his job when he was just watching you so intently. Finding every little thing about you to be sweet and cute. Irresistible, even. First time meeting, who the fuck cares. He’s going to have you.

You feel breathless already as he devours you with such ease. Satoru’s lips move slowly against yours, tilting his head to deepen the kiss and you whimper softly, one hand coming to rest against his bare chest. His skin felt so hot despite being in the shade and you could feel his heart racing. It’s somewhat comforting to know that his heart races with excitement like yours. You gasp softly as his tongue glides smoothly across your bottom lip. “Open wide, princess.” He mumbles into the kiss and as you oblige so quickly, his tongue slides into your wet cavern, eager to explore every inch of it, pressing your body against the cliff face as his own much bigger form pins you against it. Needy whines are muffled by his lips as his tongue teasingly rubs against yours. Satoru slides his large hand down the length of your back before boldly cupping your ass cheek to give a harsh squeeze.

“Ah, ‘toru..” You pant out softly, feeling both of his hands now groping your bare ass cheeks, fingertips pressing so deeply into your flesh that you feel a sweet ache. The flimsy fabric of your bikini bottom rides between your cheeks as he fondles roughly, saliva smearing across your cheek as his lips leave yours to kiss along your jaw, panting softly. “Could see your ass a mile away before, found it so fucking cute. Knew I wanted you then.” He groans softly against your ear, coaxing the butterflies in your stomach to flutter wildly and prompt you to dig your nails gently into his skin. You can feel his tongue dancing across your warm flesh, teeth nibbling before he bites down harshly on the side of your neck, sucking firmly.

You whimper from the dull throb that spreads from the spot and Satoru presses a kiss to the abused area before he pulls back to gaze down at you, eyes swirling with deep lust. “Satoru, please... You’re making me feel so—“ You bite down on your lip and look to the side, somewhat flustered. He merely smirks, cupping the side of your neck and leans to the other side to give his sweet attention. “What is it, pretty girl? Needy? Fucking wet for me? Shall I see for myself?” He says, one hand toying with the tied-up bow. One tug and it’d slip down. His teasing almost frustrates you, already wishing to feel more as his lips scatter kisses across your neck and down to the valley of your breasts. The bikini top did a pathetic job of covering your boobs.

“You’re such a tease.” You exhale softly, glancing at your surroundings. No one is around, still. He grins playfully at your words, one hand lifting from your behind for only a moment before he smacks your cheek firmly, causing you to yelp and press up against him. You feel the sweet sting spread across your ass cheek that jiggles from impact and he swats again before the tingle. Again and again, Satoru spanks your ass, alternating cheeks until he grips the throbbing flesh and drags his nails harshly along the burning skin. You’re whimpering against his chest, hopelessly holding onto him as he lands each spank with such precision, breasts pressing against him. “Fucking delicious.” He sighs out heavily, feeling the heat from the harsh spanks radiate off of your skin.

You’re biting down on your lip harshly as if that could stop the lewd sounds that slip from your lips as his palms soothingly massage the painful sting. With tears already in your eyes, you discovered how much you love pain to be inflicted on you by his hands alone. It sent waves down to your very core. “Sadist..” You mumble playfully as your hand snakes down his abdomen until your fingers once more dip beneath the elastic of his shorts. “Maybe I am, I don’t see you having a problem with it.” He whispers against your ear, hands pausing against your behind. “Baby~. We’re all alone. Stop being so sneaky. Just say you want to see how big I am.” He says smugly and you would have rolled your eyes if his words didn’t hold the truth.

You look down between you both as Satoru’s long fingers hook beneath his boardshorts, tugging them down to the middle of his thighs and your jaw drops at the sight of his hardened cock springing out from the tight confinements of his shorts, throbbing deliciously before your very eyes. He’s big. Beyond big. Long in length and the girth is so thick, you wonder if it’d even fit comfortably inside. Your gaze fixates on the protruding veins that line up along his length, saliva threatening to dribble out at the glorious sight of his dick. No wonder he’s so cocky. “You’re so hot—“ You blurt out before cupping the back of his neck to pull him down for another feverish kiss, your other hand coming down towards his exposed length. He’s all smug as he responds to the kiss, heart swelling with pride and lips curled to form a smile against your lips. He’s a sucker for praise. Satoru couldn’t deny that.

He grunts in response as your fingers wrap around the base of his cock, the tips barely able to touch together. It feels so warm and heavy against your palm and you couldn’t help but think it’s somewhat comforting in a way, as you begin to stroke nice and slowly. Satoru moves to hunch over but your hand presses against his shoulder for the moment, bending low enough so you could dribble out saliva until it drips down onto your stroking hand and Satoru’s hand comes up to tug on his own hair, knocking his sunglasses off his head. He didn’t care. All he could focus on was the snug tightness of your hand as it smears the saliva across each inch of his cock. “So thick..” You whisper and he can barely catch your words as the waves crash against the shore behind him, feeling completely wrapped up in the pleasure that pulses through him as you continue to pump your fist, not daring to relent in the steady pace you set.

You couldn’t help but bite back a giddy smile at the sight of the lifeguard already completely blissed out, using your thumb to drag along the leaking tip, trailing the pre-cum along the side of his length. Your wrist flicks gently with each movement, fingertips gliding across his balls teasingly each time your hand reaches the base. He’s panting heavily against your ear, his large hands soothingly rubbing along your signs, occasionally toying with the strings of your bikini. “You’re already feeling so good just from my hand, Satoru… Just imagine what it’d be like with my needy cunt. Mouth, too.” You give the base of his throbbing cock a squeeze as your lips brush against his, making them glisten with saliva before you start to lower yourself onto your knees before the tall lifeguard, long lashes fluttering as you gaze up at him.

His eyes appear even more alive, almost manic as he grins at the sight of you on your knees. You feel them sink into the sand as you lean to happily press your face against the underside of his cock. “Fucking hell..” Satoru mumbles in awe at the heavenly sight of his twitching cock resting against your face. “Bigger than my face, I bet you’re not surprised.” You mumble, lips rubbing gently against his length before you press your tongue flat against it and travel upwards, dragging it along the protruding vein before you reach his leaking tip. His eyes glaze over with the pleasure that washes over him, barely able to focus as your tongue playfully laps at the head of his length, gathering the pre-cum to happily swallow before your wet muscle swirls around the bulbous tip. He tastes so fucking good already, weighing heavy against your tongue alone.

You feel his long fingers gently grip your hair as you continue to just tease, licking along the sides so eagerly as if his cock was your own personal ice cream, pressing sloppy kisses as your hand squeezes the base. “Y/N.” He warns with his grip tightening on your hair, prompting you to whimper. Quickly, you obey his silent order. You wouldn’t dare defy the white-haired lifeguard. No matter how greedy he becomes, you’d give all of yourself to him. Your glistening lips wrap around the bulbous tip, gently suckling on it. It’s hard to smile at the sound of his pleased sigh, watching as he tilts his head back. You didn’t dare look away, sliding your mouth up and down the first few inches of his thick cock, already finding your jaw aching slightly from how wide you had to keep your mouth open.

Satoru is already blissed out. To think that he thought today would be any other day of typical lifeguard duties. Truth be told, he thought he’d have to deal with lost children or carrying citizens on his board to the safety of the shore. He definitely did not expect to watch you for most of his shift and have his mind pump full of filthy fantasies. What’s even more surprising is the mutual attraction and how neither of you cared to do the typical waiting until touching each other. You both yearned for one another since eye contact. Good for him, he thinks. Satoru thinks he deserves a pretty girl on her knees, sucking his big cock. What he couldn’t wait for is to have his own mouth between your legs, desperate to taste you. Satoru is— Well. A lover of eating out, let’s just say.

“Fuuuuck, princess—“ He grunts out as you continue to bob your mouth at a steady pace, the obnoxious slurping up the saliva that threatens to spill not being covered by the waves of the ocean. The day was starting to calm down weather-wise, ready to embrace the evening. You whine, prompting gentle vibrations along his cock and a string of curses to leave his swollen lips, gaze darkening as he looks down at you. You manage to take another inch or two as you slide your lips further down, stretching around the girth. The tip brushed against the back of your throat and you automatically gag, muffled by his throbbing length. “Good girl, look at you. Taking my cock so fucking well.” Satoru pants and with a brief warning by pulling on your hair, he presses firmly against the back of your head. “Take it.” He orders, voice low and breathless.

Your eyes widen as you feel the pressure against the back of your head and you’re unable to reject it from how strong he’s pushing. Not that you even wanted to. You’re an absolute whore when it comes to pleasing the lifeguard. Already, wrapped around his little finger and ready to do as he says. You feel his length slide along your inner cheeks, keeping your jaw as relaxed as you can as he pushes in until the tip of his length pushes past the point of gagging and your throat completely sheaths his cock, leaving the sight of your throat bulging for no one to see but Satoru.

You’re desperately swallowing around his thick cock, drool seeping out from the corners of your lips as you look up at him. You have to breathe heavily through your nose just to have access to oxygen. Satoru closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying the pretty sounds of you choking on his cock as the insides of your mouth and throat keep his length feeling snug and warm; his length is surrounded with pleasure that surges up through him. He glances down at you and smirks. You look rather pathetic in an adorable way, squirming against the sand, eyes wide and pretty tears threatening to spill from the rough deep-throating.

Feeling playful, Satoru uses his free hand to pinch your nose, blocking the only access you had for breathing. Your face scrunches up a little, whimpering moans muffled by his length still stuffed down your throat. “You look so cute, princess. Struggling to get air. Shall I give you CPR?” He jokes, tightening his pinch and your head begins to throb from the lack of oxygen you so eagerly need. He’s not a complete asshole, nor entirely selfish and so, he lets go of your nose and begins to guide your mouth along his cock. You inhale deeply through your nose when you have the chance, feeling so light-headed as oxygen rushes back. “Just a bit longer.” He grunts out as his closed fist on your hair moves so your mouth slides up and down his length, faster than your pace before.

Helplessly, your hands grip his toned thighs, just above the signature red shorts as your lips stay stretched around his length, heart racing with joy to be used like this by the lifeguard. The white-haired male makes sure you take every inch until you’re at the base of his cock, the nose often momentarily pressing against his lower stomach. “Just like that, fuck— So good..” He pants, his throbbing cock enjoying the wet pleasure of your mouth, tongue rubbing along the underside. His stomach begins to feel hot and tight, the urge to climax growing and so, refusing to let himself cum before you do; he slides your mouth off completely until there’s an audible pop, followed by a sharp gasp as you breathe in the generous amount of air that was briefly stolen from you.

You break the string of saliva that connected your lips to his cock as you pant heavily, unable to stop your lips from forming a wide grin at the sight of him, giddy that you got to please him so well with just your mouth. “You like it rough, huh?” You manage to rasp out and Satoru lets out a sheepish chuckle, his hand coming down to pet you on the head, hand stroking along your hair. “Honestly, Y/N. I think I’m going to enjoy any kind of way when it’s you. Rough or gentle. Now, c’mere.” He says, taking hold of your hand to tug you up with ease.

You stumble forward, feet sinking in the soft sand and the white-haired lifeguard gently takes hold of your arms to stabilise you, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. Completely different to how he treated you when your lips were wrapped around his length. Maybe he’s eager to show you that he does have both sides and it makes your heart feel like it’s swimming in shimmering gold. He’s perfect, you couldn’t help but think. You smile against his lips and he’s holding you so tight against him that you feel his cock cushioning between your bodies and your breasts pressing against his chest. He reluctantly pulls away, gaze clouded as he looks down at you. “My turn. I’ve been waiting for this. Especially when I first saw you in your cute bikini..” He trails off, hands snaking up to tease the fabric that barely covers your chest. “So cute..” He murmurs before tugging until the triangle fabric is pulled away and your breasts spill out, free from the flimsy confinement.

“Oh shit.” He blurts out in awe at the sight of your breasts as his large hands come up to cup the squishy flesh and give a gentle squeeze. You feel flustered and look away as a soft whimper escapes from feeling his touch, your face feeling hot. “I love your boobs, so damn pretty..” He murmurs, looking like he’s in some sort of wonderland just from being able to massage your breasts, nice and slow. His thumbs tease your hardened buds, grinning at the sound of your needy whines. You tilt your head up to look at the face of the cliff, briefly wondering how a man’s touch to your breasts could already leave you feeling a sweet daze. Satoru pinches the hardened buds, giving a teasing tug before he leans forward to kiss along your neck, staying bent over you as he does so. His body is close enough for his twitching cock to still stay pressed against you and your wrap your arms around his form to cling onto him for the moment.

“I only met you like two hours ago and I’m already this addicted to you..” You confess through a whisper and if only you knew how the words just boost his ego up high, smiling smugly against your neck. “Mm, maybe we’re just a perfect match. I can feed your addiction and you can feed mine.” Satoru says, tongue trailing down the valley of your breasts. You smile at his words and look off to see— Oh god. A couple is walking along the beach. “S-Satoru! People are approaching.” You squeak out, almost horrified if it wasn’t for the excitement of being caught flooding through you. What would Satoru do? Would he not be ashamed and keep touching you?

“Don’t care.” He mutters, hands pressing your breasts together as he presses sloppy kisses to the soft mounds before he pulls away with an annoyed sigh. “Come here, baby.” The lifeguard says as he glances down at his exposed cock that continues to throb before towards the couple that doesn’t appear like dots in the distance anymore. “Usually I’d shamelessly give them a show but you’re all mine for the evening.” He huffs childishly before his arms suddenly wrap around your head to pull you in. His bigger form presses you up against the cliff face, one hand on the back of your head to act as a cushion. Your eyes widen at the sudden action, almost going cross-eyed as you stare at his muscular chest. Satoru tugs his board shorts up to cover his ass as he keeps you in a tight embrace.

The couple slowly walk along the beach, enjoying the cool breeze and warm sun. They notice the pair of you hiding in the shade of the cliff, looking curiously. Satoru exaggerates a kiss to the top of your head and his hand soothingly rubbing along your back. “Baby, there there. No need to cry. I swear I didn’t take the girl’s number. Not a single one offered to me. You’re the only one I want to date. The only one I want to cherish.” He says, loud enough for the curious couple to hear and they look at you two with smiles, pleased to see another couple being all lovey-dovey. “He must be a lifeguard— Oh how sweet, such a green flag for comforting his girlfriend.” The girl says and the boyfriend merely nods, dragging her along the sand.

You know he’s just pretending and yet, you do find your heart melting a little at the idea of being comforted by Satoru during difficult times. You actually wonder what he’d be like as a genuine partner. You briefly nuzzle your face against his warm chest and fake out loud sobs to fit the act of an upset girlfriend, tightening your arms around him. Satoru continues to watch before he finally loosens his hold. “Good girl, played your part well. For that, I must reward you.” He says lightheartedly and you giggle softly at his words, heart racing from the thrill of nearly being caught. How exhilarating. His lips twist into a smirk, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, whispering. “My turn.”

Your back rests lightly against the cliff as you watch out of curiosity as Satoru drops down to his knees and digs into the sand and at the height of your stomach, he presses kisses, scattering them across your soft skin. “Fucking perfect.” He mumbles, hands ghosting up your legs to toy with the strings of your bikini. At this point, he doesn’t care if the couple decides to walk back. The act is over and he’s ready to devour. No one was going to interrupt what he was really looking forward to. “Spread your legs.” He orders and you timidly shuffle your legs out so they spread slightly, biting down on your lower lip. Satoru lets out a low whistle at the sight of the large damp patch across the red fabric, extending out a finger to gently glide across the bikini, between your folds and you clasp a hand over your mouth to muffle your whimper, already sensitive by his touch.

“To think that I have such power over you, princess. So sensitive, already.” He teases, continuing to rub his finger lightly between your folds, pressing the fabric up between them. Your legs tremble a little when the fabric makes contact with your clit, whining. “Stop teasing, you know how needy I am..” You plead quietly and Satoru’s heart squeezes tight from how cute you are. Fuck. How is he ever going to deny you and frustrate you further? “Alright, since it’s our first time.” He sighs dramatically, fingers swiftly untying the bows that were sitting on your hips.

Your pussy is completely exposed, on display for anyone on the beach, but thankfully it’s just Satoru. He hastily tucks the small bit of fabric into one of his pockets, eyes refusing to leave sight of your cunt that’s already starting to drip and smear your inner thighs with your own slick. One hand tries to shyly cover yourself up, flustered by his gaze. Satoru arches an eyebrow as he looks up at you with his piercing blue eyes. “And what do you think you’re doing?” His long fingers wrap around your wrist and force your hand out of the way, tongue slowly dragging along his lips. He’s eager to finally have a taste, except there’s an issue.

He’s too tall. Satoru could bend down further, maybe even lay down and just force you to sit on his face— that does sound like a hot idea, but another idea comes to mind that prompts a small grin to appear across his handsome visage. “Alright, princess. Time to trust me.” He says simply, guiding your hand to rest on top of his head. You innocently tilt your head and look down at the lifeguard with confusion, cunt still exposed and ready for more. You could feel your hole clench with the desire to be filled to the brim. Still, you know better already and that’s to not rush Satoru. Your fingers slide through his silky white hair, heart racing with anticipation as his strong hand now caresses down your legs, squeezing your flesh. “What are you doing…” You ask shyly, watching as he moves your leg over his bare shoulder.

“Use your other hand against the cliff.” He simply replies and despite being puzzled, you raise your free hand above until it presses against the cliff, gripping onto one of the soft jagged rocks. Oh— Oh! Your eyes widen with a mixture of horror and amazement as Satoru swiftly lifts your other leg to rest over his shoulder and he begins to move up, slow and careful as you feel yourself rise to a height you’ve never been at until you find yourself pressed against the cliff, legs over the lifeguard’s shoulders and his strength is forceful enough to keep you positioned comfortably above him.

Satoru now has you in a spot that he deems perfect; face directly in front of your sopping-wet womanhood. You’re in a higher position now, completely stunned by his idea to hold you on his shoulders. His arms wrap around the area of your thighs that aren’t over his shoulders to help keep you stable against the cliff face, nails digging into the flesh. He glances up at you and chuckles at how flustered you look. “Relax, I’m strong. You have two heavenly sights to look at now. The ocean and me.” Satoru says, breath fanning against your pussy and you bring your hand that was pressing against the cliff to his head, both now gripping onto his hair. You trust the lifeguard enough to know that he wouldn’t drop you, nor press you too roughly against the face of the cliff. The perfect balance.

His crystal blue eyes stay fixated, almost going cross-eyed from how close your cunt is to his face and he swears he could start to feel the threat of saliva wanting to dribble out. Your womanhood is even more irresistible up close. Instead, he shifts his hand closer to your womanhood, arm still wrapped snug around your thigh and slides his fingers along your folds before parting them, glancing up at you as your legs quiver against his broad shoulders. “So sensitive.” He mocks lightly, gathering the saliva that gathered in his mouth before he spits directly against your clit, grinning at the sight of his own glob of saliva dribbling down between your slick-covered folds. You tighten your grip on his hair and whimper his name softly. You’ve never met a man so eager to eat you out. Hell, a man who just seems to want to take his time. Even out in the open, with absolutely anyone to walk by and the wind bringing the scent of the ocean towards you both. This lifeguard is definitely something and whatever that ‘something’ is; you want it all to yourself.

Satoru watches with interest as the glob of saliva continues to dribble downwards before he decides to dive his face forward and drag his tongue flat and slow across your pussy, flicking the tip against your throbbing clit. He merely laughs at the sound of your surprised squeal before he repeats the action, still in his sweet teasing move and so naturally, he refuses to pick up the pace. The lifeguard happily laps up your sweet juice with a soft groan, nuzzling his face forward until his nose rubs lightly against the bundle of nerves and you could feel pleasure surging up through you, leaving you feeling hot and your nails drag along his scalp as your lips fall open in near disbelief of how good everything feels.

He manages to peek up at you, lips twisting to form an amused smirk and frankly, there’s a huge boost in his ego just from your reactions alone. The light burn of your nails scratching his scalp causes him to moan your name as his tongue covered in your slick, travels up to swirl around your clit teasingly, pressing the wet muscle against it, feeling it throb. You taste fucking perfect to him. So sweet and clearly easily aroused from how much slick your pussy seems to produce, but it didn’t stop him.

Satoru is relentless when it comes to eating you out. His face stays pressed firmly between your quivering thighs, the tip of his tongue flicking and swirling around your clit before he leans in to press sloppy kisses to the sensitive area. You feel hot in the face just from the obnoxious slurping sounds but his firm hold on your thighs prevents you from closing them. You sit there, body trembling and muscles tensing as you take it all in. “Ah— ‘Toru, feels so—“ Your own words were cut off by a whine as his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs and he presses in, pressing a kiss to your clit before his tongue slides along your folds. He continues to balance you on his shoulders, using one arm to hoist you up a little so his tongue can make contact with your entrance, chuckling at the sound of your breathless moans spilling out of your lips.

“You taste so good. Best I’ve ever tasted, princess. How am I to not have you whenever I want? Doesn’t seem fair to me.” Satoru says, tongue clicking in feigning disappointment before he prods along your tight entrance. This time, he allows your thighs to clench to the sides of his face as you whimper. “Have me whenever you want.” You slur out, body feeling so tingly and hot as his tongue prods gently against your entrance. It’s hot to witness you fall apart just from his mouth and leaves his heart pumping with excitement at the thought of you falling apart when he finally gives you what you both desperately crave; his cock. Still, Satoru is a fan of riling you up and taking his sweet time. Even with his cock aching in pain from still being hard with no pleasant contact of your mouth like before.

The lower half of his face is dripping with your mess, unwrapping one of his arms slow and cautious from around your thigh and tightening his hold on the other. You whine in question and he only gently shushes you, hand creeping up in front of his body before the long fingers meet your pussy properly this time. If it wasn’t Satoru that you already find that you deeply trust; you just know you’d throw a fit if some other tried to lift you up and keep you in this rather dangerous position. With a glimmer of concern, all you had to do was look at his ridiculously hot muscles to know that he was not going to drop you any time soon. His fingers keep your slick-covered folds spread wide, briefly flashing you a grin with your juices dripping from his face before he moves in to caress your hole.

You strangle on a moan as you feel the wet muscle push past your entrance, slowly licking on just the inside of your tight heat, tongue rubbing against your warm velvety walls that clench around it. With this angle, Satoru’s nose nudges against your clit as he moves his head forward to lick nice and slow within you. It’s impossible to not squirm with how sensitive you are; bare back rubbing cautiously against the face of the cliff and feeling his hold on you tightening in warning to not move so much. “It’s hard... You make me feel so hot and tingly.” You whine your complaint and Satoru merely snorts against your cunt as his tongue teasingly pumps in and out and despite having a very long tongue, he could only reach so far.

Your clouded gaze briefly scans the sand of the beach to see not a single person in sight as the white-haired lifeguard continues his teasing in an unforgiving manner. No rest to your needy pussy that continues to drip mess on his eager face. “So fucking sweet..” He sighs out happily, tongue once more dragging up between your folds to meet your clit. You unintentionally tighten your thighs around the sides of his face as you now realise his fingers crept up to caress along your quivering hole, panting softly. “Please..” You mumble, already craving so much more than his pretty fingers inside of you. It’s as if he could read your mind because he merely shakes his head, the tips of his hair tickling your inner thighs.

“Princess, I don’t care if we’re in public or how needy you get. I’m still going to take my time.” He says, words muffled against your cunt and despite feeling so floaty already from the pleasure that washes over you as if you’re in the ocean; you still have enough focus to roll your eyes and have your swollen lips form a small pout. “Bit selfish, don’t you think?” You huff out your retaliation and are swiftly met with a firm slap to your thigh, prompting a surprised yelp as the stinging sensation spreads across your skin. Your hand comes up to pitifully try to hide the sound as you look down at the lifeguard between your legs. “Yeah, and? Doesn’t look like you have a problem with my selfishness. Especially when I..” He trails off, deciding on a little bit of no mercy as he presses the tips of his two digits against your tight entrance before with little force, he slides them right in.

Completely and easily with how aroused you really are. Your pussy has been practically drenched since the first kiss and so his long fingers are lovingly greeted with the velvety warmth of your walls squeezing tight around the new invasion. They reached further than just the tip of his tongue. You could feel how long they are as he begins to slowly set a pace of his fingers thrusting in and out of your tightness, pressing sweet kisses to your clit that continues to pulsate from the contact. Whimpering moans easily spill from your parted lips, head tilting back against the cliff face as you succumb to the absolute bliss you feel rush through you.

Satoru’s head tilts up as well to admire the pretty sight of your chest rising and falling from your needy pants and your face scrunching up as he angles his fingers with each thrust until you gasp sharply and weakly grip his hair. “Bingo.” He jokes lightly, tongue continuing to swirl and flick against the sensitive bud as he slowly grinds his fingers deep inside and against the sweet spot. The wet sounds of your pussy only encourage him to pick up the pace of his fingering. Your inner walls squeeze tightly around his long digits, eyebrows furrowing in almost disbelief as you feel his fingers slowly stretch you out as they continue rubbing against the sweet spot.

Fuck, it all just feels so good. Every time you feel that hot flush of pleasure racing through you, you can’t stop your toes from curling and crying out for the lifeguard. The white-haired male thinks it’s a miracle that he’s able to even last this long before stuffing your tight cunt full of his thick cock. Especially after a brief taste of pleasure when your pretty lips were wrapped around him but, maybe it’s because he’s discovered just how fun it really is to tease you. To have your legs over his shoulders and trust his strength to hold you up against the cliff, the sun slowly setting behind him as his mouth devours you completely, fingers causing sweet squelching sounds as he pumps them inside of your tightness. It’s all too good in his eyes. Even before using his cock, Satoru knows he’s going to struggle if he doesn’t get his daily fix of you now. Hopefully, you’ll agree to see more of him. Besides, pleasure aside? He thinks you’re pretty cute.

“Satoru— Best lifeguard in existence, ah… Please? Wan’ more.” You plead breathlessly as you feel his third finger tease around the rim of your stretched entrance. Fingering feels good. It leaves you all warm and tingly but, you want more. Need it. You need his— You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you hear the lifeguard laugh at your form of begging, pushing the two of his fingers against your tight walls slowly until you whine in response and finally, Satoru decides to give you what you want. “Alright, Miss Needy.” He says and you feel him start to cautiously guide your legs to slide off of his shoulders and your hands frantically come up to grip onto jagged rocks but before there was even a threat of a fall, Satoru’s strong arms wrap around your body and he lowers you to the ground, feet sinking into the warm sand and getting in between your toes.

You lean up with the intention to give him a sweet kiss but Satoru merely smirks before his hands firmly grasp your shoulders. “Now now, princess. Kissing can come later. You’re desperate for my cock, no?” He teases lightly, pressing against your shoulders as he forcefully moves you until you find yourself stumbling. With a playful pout but an eagerness to obey, you shuffle your feet in the sand until you’re turned around, curiosity growing on just how exactly he wants you positioned. This is all up to him, after all. The one who chose such a risky spot in public. Against a cliff. You still truly couldn’t wrap your head around it but, it’s exciting. So thrilling that your heart races.

You let a soft squeak when his large hand grips the back of your neck and he suddenly pushes you down. Without even needing to tell you, your hands come up frantically to make contact with the cliff, hands pressing against the aged rocks. “Good girl, you caught on.” Satoru praises, voice low and breathless. You’re bending over, legs trembling with anticipation and all you can focus on is his overwhelming presence behind you. You don’t even need to glance his way to know he’s towering above you.

Satoru’s pearly white clench together to prevent sounds from escaping as he admires the gorgeous sight before himself and, no. It wasn’t the ocean that was behind him. Nor the sight of families having fun on the beach that he stands guard over. Not the park up in the distance or dolphins appearing amongst the waves. He’s almost numb to those sights from having to come to work daily as a lifeguard but, this? This is a sight he could never become numb to. The sight of you bent over before him, body trembling and feet shifting in the sand as you keep your pretty ass on display for him. Fuck, he could practically see your pussy dripping from where he stands and your juices smeared across your inner thighs. Just like how his lower face is still covered in the sweetness that he refuses to wipe away.

You whine softly, almost becoming frustrated from the lack of both touch and cock inside of you. Satoru merely grins at your whining, large hands caressing gently along your bare sides, toying with the strings of your top bikini. “Such a needy little thing you are..” He says, hands coming down to firmly grip your waist as he steps forward, pressing his bare cock against your ass. You could feel it throb against your ass cheek, pre-cum slowly dripping onto you before he grinds slowly to smear the few droplets across your flesh. The lifeguard grips the base of his cock before playfully slapping it against your ass and eagerly you wiggle your ass back against his throbbing length.

“Fucking hell.” He laughs, endeared by your eagerness before he finally positions his length between your dripping folds. “You do realise I don’t have a condom, right? We can stop if you want me to.” The white-haired male expresses despite the light pleasure he feels from his length dragging along between your folds, feeling your sweet slick coating his length. You feel your hole already clench around nothing as if your body is begging to be filled up. “Wan’ you in me. Now.” You huff impatiently, feet shuffling out in the sand to spread your legs further.

“Going to have to teach you manners later.” Satoru says, though pleased by your ‘subtle’ desperation and so with his hand still wrapped around the base of his cock, he moves to position himself until the bulbous tip of his cock rests against your entrance. Not bothering to wait to confirm with you again, the lifeguard finally presses the tip of his length against your hole and with little force, the rim of your hole finally stretches around the head of his length and your pussy greets Satoru’s slowly sinking cock happily.

The sounds of your strained mewls lace with his deep groans as you feel his thickness slowly stretch out your inner walls and despite the amount of slickness your cunt excitedly produced, you still feel the lingering pain of being stretched out by something so big. Bigger than anything you’ve ever experienced before. Satoru feels breathless as your velvety walls clench around him, wrapping so snugly and tight around his throbbing cock as if eager to keep him inside of you, still slowly sinking in. Satoru tries to take his time pushing in to allow you to adjust but it’s as if your walls are eagerly gripping onto him, pulling him further and further.

Satoru completely bottoms out, throbbing erection completely sheathed as he pants softly, trying to contain himself as the pleasure pulses through him from feeling your inner walls squeeze around his length entirely. Your eyes are wide, barely able to focus on the details of the cliff and only on how wide he stretched your cunt out with ease. You could feel your own mess slowly dripping out despite practically being stuffed full and plugged up. The stretch hurts, stinging at first as you both try to just adjust to the new sensation. You bite back a soft whimper, head hanging forward and eyes closing tightly. Satoru soothingly rubs along your side, hoping to coax you into relaxing.

“Come on, baby. This is nothing compared to a jellyfish sting.” He says, pleased to get the reaction he wanted, which was you laughing at the silliness of his words. The lifeguard smiles behind you, red shorts down to his knees and your bikini bottoms hanging out of the pocket. Thankfully, with his touch, you find your body relaxing before him and the painful stretch dulls down until there’s not even a hint of it anymore. Truth be told, it was a pain you found yourself liking because of what it meant. The handsome lifeguard is inside of you. “Nn, move..” You mumble quietly and it’s a good thing that Satoru is so fixated on you because not even the wind along the beach could hide your words from him.

Satoru, not wanting to actually harm you; starts off slow. He slowly pulls back, his length sliding along your warm velvety walls until he pushes back in. He doesn’t go the entire way, just the first few inches but it’s enough to leave your toes curling in the sand and his name spilling from your lips in the form of a lewd moan. “How are you so tight—“ Satoru choked out, voice strained as you squeezed around his slowly thrusting length. He doesn’t dare pick up the pace, the pair of you melting into the pleasurable sensation of his cock sliding in and out of you and fuck, you swear you could feel even the details of his cock against your inner walls, thick and protruding veins.

You deliberately squeeze around him and instantly, Satoru knows what you’re silently pleading for. Crystal blue eyes widening with manic and lips forming a small grin, the lifeguard begins to pick up the pace of his thrusts, deepening them further. Your swollen lips stay parted as needy whines and moans of the lifeguard’s name escape, feeling each deep thrust that sends a surge of ecstasy through your entire body, nails grazing against the rocks. You could hear him pant softly, his cock sliding all the way out before he slams back in relentlessly, refusing to give you time to relax before he slams his thickness back inside of you.

“Fucking hell—“ He grunts out as you squeeze around him, his hand ghosting along your back before he swats your ass cheek firmly. A squeal escapes from feeling the sudden sting of pain, pushing back eagerly onto his throbbing cock. It feels beyond good to feel the way he stretches your walls out and fills you to the very brim. Truly stuffed full of his cock every time he pushes in deep. His hand reaches out to grip your hair, keeping your head tilted back. His other hand lands smack after smack against your ass, feeling your inner velvety walls squeeze around his thick cock with each impact and you whimper from the stinging pain that laces with the sweet pleasure of his thrusting cock.

Both of you nearly go still from hearing a sudden chime fill the surrounding air. Satoru’s phone is ringing. “Fuck—“ He says, hastily stuffing his hand into the pocket of his red board shorts to grab the vibrating object and check the contact, all the while his hips never stop moving. He refuses to let some call get in the way of both his pleasure and your own. Besides, it’s cute to see the way you clasp your hand over your mouth to try and muffle your sounds. He answers the call and presses it to his ear.

“Yeah, Suguru?”

His hips slam forward until his cock is entirely sheathed again and there’s the lewd sound of your juices squelching around his thickness. He’s breathless as he listens to the other voice. “Ah— Y/N from before left her bag with her friends and they’re wondering where she is?” He repeats, unable to stop himself from smirking down at your bent-over body. Your eyes widen at his words, your face feeling flushed. Fuck, you did forget your bag and that includes your phone. You whimper, his fingers tightening the grip on your hair. “She’s here with me… Do they want to talk to her? Alright, that’s fine with me.” He says, voice sounding so sickly sweet as he dangles the phone in front of you. “Go on.” He says, slowly sliding his length out of your tight cunt.

You reach with a trembling hand, heart racing with a mixture of anxiety and excitement at the thought of having to be on the phone when the lifeguard’s delicious cock pistons in and out of you; hard and fast. “H-Hello?” You manage to breathe out, desperately holding back the delighted squeal that wanted to escape as he grinds deep inside of you, prompting electrifying pleasure to course through your very being.

“Y/N? Where are you? You never came back with that lifeguard after you got stung. Are you okay?” You have to hold the phone slightly away from your ear to prevent your friends from hearing your heavy pants, feeling Satoru’s hand snake around to teasingly rub against your sensitive clit. Fuck, the sadist is having too much fun with this. “I’m— I’m okay!” You squeak in response, thighs closing in on the male’s intrusive hand. Your body is flushed with heat, swimming in the pleasure that his sliding length blesses you with. “I’ll get my bag later—“

“Tell them to give it to Suguru and he’ll leave it at the tower.”

You could barely process the words but you can definitely sense the fact that Satoru is enjoying this a bit too much. You muffle a whimper against your shoulder, eyes rolling and phone threatening to fall from your hand. “If you could ah.. nn— Leave it with Suguru? He— He’ll!! Satoru is asking Suguru to take it to the tower, I’ll get it later.” You manage to spill out between your heavy pants, voice high-pitched as you pathetically try to hide the evidence of your cunt being fucked hard. His fingers teasingly pinch your clit, watching as you tremble beneath him and he chuckles lowly, smoothing his hand just up slightly to apply pressure against your lower stomach. He could feel the way your stomach bulges slightly every time he pushes in deep and you bite back a sob, unable to contain how good it really feels to have him rapidly sliding his length in and out of your hot core.

There’s suspicious silence over the phone, quiet murmuring before your friend on the replies. “Okay, um— Hope you’re having fun, we’ll leave it with Suguru!” She says and you could hear the rushed movement of the phone being handed around and you barely managed to hold it up for Satoru to take, your head hanging forward as you whimper. He takes it with ease, despite his own body feeling like hot jelly as your heavenly walls keep a snug tight fit around his thickness. He holds the phone between his shoulder and ear, hands firmly gripping onto your waist as he slams into your cunt, causing you to cry out loudly, body pushing forward until your own cheek rests against the back of your hand that’s pathetically trying to hold you up by gripping one of the jagged rocks of the cliff.

“Mm? Oh, is it that obvious?” Satoru laughs in response to whatever Suguru is saying on the phone. At this point, you’re too much in your own world to give a damn about anything else. “Couldn’t resist such a pretty girl, you know that. Can I focus on what I’m doing now? Yeah. Uhuh. We’ll pick it up later. Thanks, Suguru.” He pauses. You feel him pausing for a moment, only his leaking tip nudged inside of you. “You’re the best, ah— I might tell you all about it later, I know you’re eager. What’s that? Bye!” Satoru practically sings his own cockiness into the phone before hanging up on his own best friend, tucking the object back into his pocket.

“Sorry about that, princess. Now, where were we?” He grunts out, trimmed nails digging into the flesh of your waist. You didn’t even need to see to know his lips were twisting to form his sinister smirk, leaning back far enough to inspect his own cock. It’s glistening with your juice, slowly dripping and fuck, it only arouses him further. You whine, wishing he’d return to fucking you properly, especially so you could forget the realisation that both his co-worker and your friends know what’s currently happening. You sucked at hiding how you were feeling, but in your defence; he was slamming into you hard enough that skin slapping against skin would have been heard through the small device.

“Fuuuuuuck me…” You plead, wiggling your hips back and managing to sink back onto an inch or two before Satoru shivers at the sweet feeling of you squeezing back around him. “You’re such a slut for my cock.” Satoru teases, feeling rather smug as tightens his grip on your waist to return to the steady pace of his thrusts, eager to pound into your tight hole. His crystal blue eyes roll at the sensation, white strands of hair falling over his eyes as his head falls forward, struggling to keep himself together. You just feel so fucking good around him.

You both are resisting the urge to reach climax, desperate to drag this out. Even as the sun begins to finally set and the sky darkens. Neither of you cared for anything but being with each other in the moment. That and how he roughly pounds into you. Not even a hint of a pause as his cock drills in and out, the lewd sounds of your juices squelching with each time his length enters you, balls slapping up against you. It’s a relief no one is taking walks like the previous couple before you are screaming for the heavens above and the white-haired lifeguard is eating it up. Even the stinging pain of his skin harshly meeting yours.

“Ah, ‘toru! Nn— Feels so—“ You cry out in ecstasy, stomach already starting to feel hot and tight with the urge of an orgasm growing more and more. You’re so blissfully fucked out that your mind couldn’t even form thoughts. Your body could only focus on the constant high, walls clenching around his length as he dragged himself out, only to push back into the brim. “Feels so good, huh?” Satoru pants out, his length throbbing harder than before. “Fuck, Y/N— in or out?” He manages to grunt out, hips stuttering as his own sensitivity begins to creep up on him. You didn’t need to be a genius to figure out what he meant and with a loud whimper, you tilt your head back to meet his hot gaze. deliberately squeezing around his thrusting length to send the message.

You want every drop of his cum inside of you. You didn’t care if it was rather greedy on the first time or if it made you selfish. You want him to breed you, like that’s exactly what you were made for. Besides, it’d just feel so nice to be able to feel full. The message was loud and clear despite no words actually leaving your lips and Satoru is thrilled to have permission; perhaps he was desperately hoping you’d agree because once his cock was stuffed deep inside of you, Satoru just knew that he wanted it this way and naturally, luck is always on Satoru’s side. He gets what he secretly wants.

His nails drag hot across your flesh before he snakes his arms around your trembling body, pressing his front down against your back and he embraces you rather lovingly from behind. Satoru grinds slow and deep, refusing to even pull an inch of his throbbing cock out. He wants to stay inside your tight warmth that squeezes around him. One hand travels down to slide two fingers between your folds, deciding to double the pleasure you feel by caressing your clit with the pads of his fingers, slowly rubbing in a circular motion. “Oh— Oh fuck..” You gasp sharply as his length rubs against your sweet spot and feel your sensitive clit throb beneath his touch. You couldn’t hold back any longer. Even if you want to hold out a little longer, your body refuses.

Hard waves of ecstasy crash over your body, thighs squeezing before shaking violently through the sudden, intense orgasm. You cum hard around his thrusting cock and it’s like your mind is just wiped clean of everything as your lips stay parted to let out the string of cries laced with lewd mewls of the lifeguard’s name, fingertips scraping against the rocks of the cliff face. You’re truly oblivious to how your own body reacts as you drown happily in the constant waves of pleasure that crash over your trembling body. Sweat causes strands of hair to stick to the sides of your temples, eyes rolling back and feeling the hot, sweet tingles spread across you, starting from your dripping cunt. Your hot walls clench repeatedly around his thickness as if so hungry for something. Desperate to milk out everything he’s holding back.

Satoru’s own mind short-circuits from the sudden orgasm that takes hold of you and it’s like your tight pussy is clinging, refusing for him to pull out. Even as his hands attempt to soothe you, Satoru’s hips slam forward for the final time and his own body is flushed with the searing heat of an orgasm. It’s like every fibre of his being loosens up as the bulbous tip of his cock buried deep inside of you, shoots out every sticky rope of cum, painting your inner walls white. His forehead rests against your shoulder, hot breath fanning against your skin as he pants your name out. It feels like heaven, to him. To have you wrapped around him as he pumps you full of his cum. He could feel his tense muscles finally relaxing and his length pulsating inside of you. He sighs out softly, pleasantly buzzed from experiencing the momentary high.

“Good girl..” He murmurs, pressing gentle kisses to the back of your shoulder as he continues to hold your weak body against him, hips stuttering as he slowly thrusts to aid in riding out both of your orgasms. You whimper happily, tears in your eyes from the intensity of your orgasm. Truth be told, if he wasn’t holding you up, you know you would have collapsed from weak legs. You continue to tremble gently, inner walls slowly clenching around the male’s length. It feels so damn good to be so full. Reluctantly, Satoru begins to slide his soft length out until he notices his sticky mess spilling out of your stretched hole that now squeezes around nothing. “Why..” You whine your complaint and a breathless chuckle escapes the lifeguard. “As much as I’d love the idea of staying inside of you, I can’t just keep you outside.” He reminds you, long fingers gathering up the strings of cum that dribble out, noticing that it’s already mixed with your own juices.

Fuck. Feeling daring enough, Satoru moves his long fingers towards your face. Your cheek is resting against the cliff when you notice the approach and with a quick side glance his way; you obediently wrap your lips around his digits, happily sucking off the mess. You moan softly at the saltiness laced with your own sweetness, slowly sliding your mouth up and down every bit of his fingers, slurping up the saliva that now threatens to spill. Your eyelids feel heavy from the previous orgasm and still coming down from that sweet high; you slowly blink and savour the taste that fills your mouth. Satoru gulps, completely entranced by the filthy sight of you sucking on his fingers.

“Fucking hell, you are one lewd princess.” He comments as he watches your tongue slowly drag up between his fingers, leaving behind a string of saliva as you pull away, flustered by his words. You’re still in a daze from the orgasm he practically blessed you with. You never really experienced it so intensely before. “It’d be a waste..” You mumble shyly, feeling the last of his cum smearing across your inner thighs as you rub them together. Even your clit still throbs slowly, too sensitive for any kind of touch. The lifeguard smiles, endeared by your words. “Uhuh. Well, if you ever need more. I’m happy to give it.” Satoru snorts, his hands coming up to grip your shoulders. It’s a miracle that you’re still standing and you know it’s because he’s holding you up as he guides you to turn around and face him.

You meet his piercing blue eyes, finally leaning up to get that kiss you tried to steal before. Satoru grins lightly, finding it cute that you’re still so needy despite just being fucked roughly against a cliff. He lowers himself to press a kiss to your lips, hastily tucking his cock back inside his shorts in a pitiful attempt to stop himself from getting hard. It’d hurt and he knows how irresistible you are in his eyes now. “Come on. Might as well go get your bag.” He says, pausing as he blindly tugs out your bikini bottoms that were stuffed into his pocket. With a gentle push against your shoulder, you understood that Satoru was signalling for you to briefly rely on the cliff face to hold yourself up as he lowered himself to his knees, groaning.

“Even I feel like jelly, what did you do to me?” Satoru jokes, inspecting the bottoms. Surely you tie the bows first? What do girls do with these? You bite back an amused smile at his confusion but say nothing, perhaps enjoying the sight of the usual cocky lifeguard being on his knees and looking like he needs to depend on someone. Satoru with the confidence of thinking he’s right, swiftly ties the side strings into bows and he brings it towards you. You grip his broad shoulders as you carefully step into the loops before you feel the male drag them up along your weak legs until they’re once again covering you.

“Such a gentleman. Will I get to see that side of you more?” You giggle softly, hand playfully ruffling up the male’s soft white hair before he stands up. Satoru, feeling playful, scoops your hand up with his and brings your hand up to kiss each knuckle dramatically. “Mwah. Of course, princess. Only you get such honours of this hot lifeguard taking care of you.” He says and you can hear the smirk in his voice. Your heart still flutters and not wanting the already developing feelings to be obvious, you pinch his cheek.

“That’s so cute of you, Satoru. First, you save me from a jellyfish sting. Then, you fuck me. Really good. And now, you kiss my knuckles. I really am spoiled.” You sigh out dramatically, caressing his cheek with the pad of your thumb and he tilts his head to press a kiss to your palm, eyes closing momentarily. “Only fair. You let me fuck you and it was really—“ He pauses, unable to think of a word and despite your hopeful gaze upon him, he merely smiles. “Stop distracting me. Bag.” He repeats, fingers adjusting your bikini top to cover you properly.

Naturally, you pout and roll your eyes from him not finishing his words, still leaning against the cliff. You watch him intently as he finds his sunglasses in the sand, tossing them into his backpack before zipping it up. “But, mister lifeguard..” You trail off, dramatically fanning yourself as your long lashes flutter. “I don’t think I can walk. You fucked me too good and my legs are weak. That and… the jellyfish sting.” You say, glancing at the part of your leg that is still bandaged up. Instantly, Satoru holds his hand up to stop you, shaking his head. “Ah, ah. Do you really think I’d let you walk at all? Who do you think I am?” He says, lips forming a playful pout.

Your cheeks start to hurt from grinning too much as you watch the lifeguard squat down low before you, hands coming back and gesturing for you to climb on. “You really do spoil me.” You giggle, feeling genuinely thankful towards Satoru because truthfully, he fucked you that good. You think your entire body is going to feel all gooey and weak for the rest of the night. You lean off the cliff, dramatically falling until your front lands against him, chest pressing against his toned back. You’re careful to not put all your weight, not that he cares and wrap your arms around his neck to cling onto him.

You couldn’t see the soft smile that graced his visage as he wrapped his arms beneath your knees and hoisted you up with ease, carrying you comfortably on his back and your legs dangle freely. Briefly, he leans forward. “Can you carry my backpack? It’s not heavy.” He says and you reach just in front of him to hook your fingers through the loop on top, holding it against his front body and he stands up. Satoru begins to walk in the direction you both originally came, taking his time. You glance towards the ocean, seeing the very last glimpse of the setting sun. You didn’t realise that it was even getting dark. You were so lost in the world of pleasure, thanks to the very same lifeguard who ‘saved’ you from a nasty sting. You tuck your head between his shoulder and neck, lips brushing lightly against his hot skin. “So, dinner and round two?” You whisper, breath ghosting along his neck. You could still feel his cum slowly leaking out. Satoru’s feet stumble in the sand, surprised by your words before his lips twist to form a grin, blue eyes becoming even more alive. With an eager nod and his arms tightening around your legs.

“Hold on, Y/N. I’m getting you out of here. Fast.”

And with those words spoken, Satoru begins to pick up the pace. You’re stunned by his high stamina, but it also leaves you feeling giddy from witnessing his excitement. You smile against his neck as you hug him tightly. You didn’t expect any of this today but, you’re already hungry for the future. You tighten your fingers on his backpack and press multiple kisses to his neck as you laugh.

“Bring it on.”

667 notes · View notes

accio-victuuri · 3 months ago

Text

today is 04/16, the anniversary of the Untamed’s booting ceremony and start of filming. i will be sharing an essay and story of their fandom journey by one of the OG bjyx fansites - 限時狂想丨0805x1005.

you all know how much i appreciate fansites and everything they do for the fandom. it’s also interesting to see the thoughts of someone who had been a cpf even before the drama was out. a person who was there from the beginning and is still here and active. their love for the boys is so inspiring 💛 this site is pretty popular cause they funded wuji road among other things.

personally, reading this really made me reflect on my time in this fandom. i have evolved from posting about cpns sparingly & answering fan questions to being an update account then archiving and constructing timelines. to editing and focusing on their careers with bits of political discussions as needed. to now, what i’ve been doing lately, is bits of things i have done in the past. it made me think about why i’m here and still am. that it’s not solely because of the candies and the proofs. although it started with that, it’s not why i stayed for years. it’s truly because there is something about GG and WYB that i connect with. them as individuals and moreso as a pair. in the past months, there were a lot of noise and distractions that made it hard for me but reading this was the perfect reminder that i needed to recalibrate.

i also think this piece answers the usual hate comment of so/os who tell us to “move on”.

the flowers are the same year after year, but the people are different year after year, fortunately there are always people who stay with each other and remember each other in their hearts — so this memory will always have weight and will never disappear.

let me just cry 🥹🥹🥹🥹

anyway, the full post is below. enjoy! and cheers to all cpfs. 🥂

"Yibo taught me two dances yesterday"

By chance, I was browsing Weibo and saw a video of GG at the airport.

In the video, GG mentioned that DD taught him two dances, which was amazing. That night, the names of the two boys kept coming to my mind, and I got up and stayed up late to catch up on many of GG and DD’s materials.

I have to thank a few fan-made clips that I happened to see at the time, which made me see the infinite magnetic field and huge possibilities between these two names, and the attraction that was like fate to me.

"I want to hunt with you at night all my life"

This was the first Weibo post after the website was launched. The picture was of GG and DD leaving get off work at night. Although there was only their backs under dim lights, they still tried to share the light captured in the corner with everyone, so I had a limited-time fantasy.

Before that, I had hesitated about other website names, and the process of finally choosing these four words was also full of many uncertainties, whether it was the suspension of work caused by some changes in the crew of The Untamed during that period, or some bad speculations and comments about The Untamed and my brother and younger brother on the Internet. Now recalling that time, I was standing at the starting point with fog in front of me, and there were too many unknowns ahead that I couldn’t see, but I’m glad that I chose to move forward, holding hands with you, and walking through the fog to see the distance.

I often see people joking in the comments that I have hidden a lot of good things. Indeed, there are some photos of the crew that have not been released, because many scenes in the same frame are similar, the clarity of the photos is not enough, and the requirements for the photos are usually high, so they will be carefully selected before they are released. If you are willing to see it, you can catch yourself and shake it when you have the chance in the future...

"Xiang Mei"

I remember that in the beginning of 2018, the fans all called me Xiang Mei. After the filming of The Untamed was completed, the circle that was originally lively during the filming began to gradually become deserted, so I made a tacit agreement with everyone that I would post some Weibo stories on holidays, either holding hands or standing side by side. I want to tell everyone in this way that brothers and sisters are very good, and stay with them for a little longer, a little longer.

Actually, 2018 was a very meaningful year for me. Every time I shared GG and DD’s activity pictures and videos on Weibo, I would read the reposts and comments back and forth. At that time, the number of reposts was very small. I would be happy for a long time when the number of reposts exceeded 100. I can still remember the Weibo IDs of some of the people who often reposted and commented. Sometimes I would chat with everyone in the comments and answer some questions. After a long time of ordinary days, I was surprised by the increasing number of comments, reposts and private messages after the show started, and sometimes I was in a trance. How did I suddenly become everyone’s "Xiang Mei".

Now there are tens of thousands of people following the footsteps of GG and DD ( she is talking about fansites here ) . Maybe everyone has some special feelings for the 18-year-old station, but Limited Time Fantasy has always maintained the mood at the beginning, as pure and passionate as everyone else. If there is any difference, it is just that I am a little luckier than everyone who came later, and I saw GG and DD earlier.

Everyone in the big family of BJYX supports them in different ways, output, charity, support... It is really a blessing to like the brothers and sisters with everyone, and I will work hard to live up to everyone's higher expectations in the future.

"No. 85"

In May last year, the DD participated in the official motorcycle race for the first time and won the first place in the qualifying. I was already looking forward to seeing DD standing on the podium. Fate still played a little joke. When DD started, his car had a problem and went back for repair. After catching up with the player in front, the car gradually slowed down at a bend.

The stubborn little lion got off the car and pushed the motorcycle to run, but finally had to terminate the race. There are always regrets in the cruel competitive sports. The 22-year-old rookie racer still has a long way to go. Later, another race came in August. Zhuhai was scorching hot in midsummer. Driver No. 85 changed into a new racing suit and raced round and round. Although I was holding a camera, every time you whizzed past me, I was behind the camera screaming for you and happy for you from the bottom of my heart. "Congratulations to driver No. 85, Wang Yibo" The audience burst into cheers and and applause. Champion driver No. 85, you deserve all the glory.

"Satisfied"

In the autumn of the year before last, GG released his first single in the true sense three years after his debut. He sang it for the first time at the concert the day before his birthday. You were red on the stage, and the whole sea of red in the audience was for you. On the night after the Hangzhou concert, I was sorting pictures in front of the computer, and suddenly I saw a screenshot of Weibo sent by a friend. It was the first Weibo interaction between the GG and DD after the filming was completed. I was so happy that I couldn't sleep in the middle of the night. It turned out that they didn't stop contacting each other after the filming was completed. DD would also celebrate his birthday with GG.

The first solo performance of Happy Camp, parting with Wei Wuxian who always holds his fan, the summer sun in Hengdian has made GG who has returned to modern dress look much thinner, from the small round face with a little flesh on the cheeks to the sharp features and the belt that is always tied to the last hole. You chew a piece of bread 37 times, which gradually shows everyone the strict self-management of a mature male artist, but I still want to tell you in my heart that it is not excessive to eat a few more small breads.

The first real red carpet, the look on GG’s face when he said “Hello everyone, I am the young actor Xiao Zhan” still often comes to my mind. The boy who said “The power of growth is my satisfaction” in the secret garden became more and more confident and free under the flash, completing one adventure after another of growth. I have always felt that GGis the most gentle boy I have ever seen, and he has given me a lot of strength.

“2018-2019”

In the New Year’s Eve of 2018, GG transformed into Zhang Xiaofan and filmed in the crew. Even in the deep mountains, he told himself with a sense of ritual that 2019 was going to be a good year. On the other side, the Hunan Satellite TV New Year’s Eve concert had passed midnight, the finale guest ended the performance, and the audience left one after another. DD, as the host of Hunan Satellite TV, also had a performance song. At that time, his fans were not as many as they are now. When shooting the stage, the little sister behind me was also wondering, “Aren’t there only hosts on the stage?” Looking at the empty seats and the ribbons scattered all over the ground, I thought that more people would come for you in the future and stay for you after midnight.

In the New Year's Eve of 2019, on one side, the three stages of GG performed at midnight, and on the other side, the whole audience was screaming for the water stage and motorcycle ring of the younger brother. In different cities, more people shouted for you with full love, and you brought an extremely shining halo to end the past year.

However, there will be regrets in a perfect story. The expectation of spending the New Year together at the end of the year did not come true after all. I hope you will spend the New Year's Eve this year.

"The Untamed"

I saw all kinds of news on the Internet before, and I felt that the broadcast of The Untamed would be far away. When the news came out before the broadcast, I still didn't believe it until the double Bazaar cover. I thought maybe it was really going to be broadcast. I saw the news on the morning of the official announcement and felt that it was going to be broadcast.

From Tianjin to Beijing, from Bangkok to Nanjing, the pot was boiled for a long time, and the young man was sacrificed many times. At the end of the Nanjing scene, the brothers said "goodbye" as Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, and the big screen showed "see you later". The scenes from the filming of The Untamed to the subsequent activities flashed through my mind, and tears flowed down in an instant (of course, the hand holding the camera was still steady).

The story of the brothers and sisters about Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji has come to the final chapter. Everything this summer is so unforgettable. I don’t know when and where we will meet again, and what the scene will be like... The mountains remain unchanged, the water flows forever, and their story is yet to be continued.

From 2018 to now, there have been many hard and tiring periods. When there are many activities at the end of the year, I am in a different city almost every day when I open my eyes. Sometimes I have classes the next day, and it is common to fly back and forth between two or three cities on the same day. I have made a lot of efforts and attempts to balance my three-dimensional study and life.

Like everyone else, I often feel stressed, but every time I think about seeing GG and DD soon, every time I check Weibo and see everyone's dynamics and encouraging words, I feel that there are still too many things in this lovely world that are worth my efforts.

A lot of stories have happened in the past two years. These days, I have been looking through the records and recalling them bit by bit... It has been years since the start of filming. Thank you Chen Qing Ling for letting GG and DD meet again. This drama is of great significance to them and too many of us.

A few years ago, I went back to the filming location of The Untamed and walked around again. The pillars of Cloud Recesses have been painted with other patterns, the familiar figures have long disappeared from the woods of Baifeng Mountain, and the Mianmian House has changed several waves of residents... Walking along the track of memory, I sighed that as the saying goes, the flowers are the same year after year, but the people are different year after year, but fortunately there are always people who stay with each other and remember each other in their hearts, so this memory will always have weight and will never disappear. Every important day in life is like a box of canned food. Love is the best preservative. Beautiful memories do not deteriorate, allowing us to fantasize about them repeatedly from time to time, and the shelf life is forever.

It's time to chatter again, and I start typing and writing down the stories of the past year. I often count on my fingers on the "Boxiao Calendar" in my phone. How many days are left until the next anniversary? I flip through my phone and recall what kind of mood I was in at this time of year in the past. Excited, nervous, moved, sad, year after year, past and present, all kinds of fragments always come back and forth in my mind on this day, and the sense of ritual in my bones always drives me to do something.

I often see everyone's various team-building activities and envy them. I have always been chasing stars offline alone and wanted to participate in a turtle carnival, but unfortunately missed it due to personal reasons. Later, I heard from my friends that everyone sent a lot of gifts. I was really flattered.

Thank you for your support and love. I often see people commenting about cooperation with other sites. In fact, I also sigh that many pictures or videos are very beautiful. I also have a lot of pictures and videos saved in my mobile phone that I don’t want to delete. The stories told by everyone together are more complete and moving. However, I have very few people who share the same responsibility in the three-dimensional world. Most of the time, I run around alone. So I am very happy that I have met many new painters in the circle online this year, as well as Xia Xiazi and Xi Xizi, who have fed me a lot of cute peripherals. Here I would like to say thank you to everyone again.

There will be more anniversaries of all sizes in the future. Some people say that it is difficult to keep the original intention, but memory and love are always the best preservatives.

In my opinion, charity is a way to convey love, and it is also a very precious part of this circle. GGvisited Wei County without anyone knowing in advance to help with poverty alleviation. I also squatted on Douyin to grab charity shirts for a night. Later, I continued to see various promotions for agricultural products. While supporting charity, I can also understand and taste various high-quality and low-priced agricultural and sideline products.

At the Hunan Satellite TV's charity event to help farmers, while filming the cute little brother with Chibi Maruko-style hair, he was also busy grabbing agricultural products. Everyone in the family said that the oranges were so delicious! After work, my brother participated in the free clinic. Even though he was very tired and took a long car ride to arrive in the early morning, he personally helped the patients who came for treatment.

A trickle of kindness lasts a long time. On weekdays, I will learn and check a lot of information, hoping to follow my brother and younger brother as an example and do more practical charity. At the beginning of last year, I was worried every day under the cover of the epidemic. The fragility of life was in front of me, and safety became the most important wish. At that time, I thought in my heart: I hope that every blessing of charity can return to GG and DD, and I will be safe and worry-free.

We have received feedback from the charity work we did before: Hope Primary School is being built step by step, the AED equipment donated with the help of Chongqing Red Cross Foundation has been put into use in my brother's alma mater, the hearing-impaired children have successfully undergone surgery, the Love Classroom has been put into use, and the action of helping students has received many thank-you letters from children... I feel very happy when I see these. Love makes every charity warm, and openness also makes every love traceable.

In my eyes, 2020 is also a year of hardship and harvest. Due to various reasons such as the epidemic, various activities this year have not been so smooth. There are true and false news about my brother flying all over the place. I have run to a city several times to wait in vain for several days. It is really sad to feel that my expectations are not met. Whenever I think of that period of time, I feel wronged and distressed for everything he has endured, but I can't do anything about it. Fortunately, he came back, step by step through the fog, and tried to stand in front of us.

When we said goodbye, he had a neat short hair. As I watched the figure gradually become clear under the spotlight, all the emotions came up in an instant. I couldn't tell what kind of mood I was in. I tried to look more greedily, but I couldn't control it anymore, and let the tears blur my eyes. He was still smiling and singing under the spotlight, and it seemed to become brighter. Every word of the lyrics pierces my heart. I will run to it with all my strength. Even if it is far, I will definitely reach it. The screams of the two events separated by a year are endless. Everything seems to have changed and it seems to have not changed. I will cover my face quietly when I am shy, look around and gesture the numbers half a beat behind when counting down, and I will still be scared by the popping fireworks... Every familiar little action made up the vivid him in front of me. If DD in the past was described as a bamboo, then he is now a pine tree. He has cut his hair short but has become more resolute and proud, and he is still upright. It is no exaggeration to describe DD as a model worker in the past year.

After a full schedule, he coughed lightly to avoid the microphone on the show and his foot injury was occasionally discovered. I dare not recall the most anticipated competition. I was ready early that afternoon, wondering if the light would be too dim, and which copywriter would be more suitable if I won the first place... Suddenly, there was a scream from the crowd, and the girls around me began to sob. I couldn't see the broadcast screen, and I could only hear the voices around me, "Fall" and "Last lap".

At that moment, my mind was confused, and the first thought that came to my mind was: I hope I'm safe. I don’t remember how long I squatted on the roadside with my camera. Later, when the crowd was almost gone, my tears slowly fell to the ground. I ran back to the podium unwillingly to take a few photos and stood there for a long time. The kid in street dance returned to his stage, and he could light up the whole audience every time, dazzling the audience.

Looking back on the time when Captain Xiao Wang was there, it was the big and small injuries on his legs and the compressed sleep time. He said that the superpower he wanted most was invisibility, so that he could do what he wanted and go out to play. So I really liked the summer surf shop last year, which gave my brother a chance to breathe in his busy work. Sunshine, beach, waves, the boy with sparkling eyes, the vigorous vitality all over his body, and the happiness on his face that could not be hidden, is my favorite look of him.

That year's meeting was particularly difficult. Every moment before the Starlight Awards was over was full of unknowns. It was not until I stood on the familiar roadside of the Youth Olympic Games and walked along the long path by the river that I felt it was real.

After going around in circles, I returned to the familiar place and met again in the place where "See you later" was once written. I couldn't help but sigh that the fateful fate is really wonderful. Sitting in the venue, watching the familiar light signs light up one by one, screaming and shouting with all my strength, telling them all the thoughts of the past year, telling them that we are still here, always here; it is another Weibo Night of the year, and I can always find them at a glance among the crowd, and witness their growth and glory together.

It is not easy to meet among the countless people, and I am very grateful to be fortunate enough to witness the node where they meet on the road of life. They are on the stage and we are off the stage. It's great to be the same as before. During this period of time, people, things and objects are undergoing tremendous changes all the time, but everyone has not gone far, and they are as determined as when they first set out.

Like everyone else, I can proudly tell everyone that my idol is Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo. Their positive attitude and qualities are my confidence, and they are also the driving force for me to take off and land again and again and run forward. For me, Bo and Xiao are a piece of moonlight that I stole by chance in this ever-changing world. "The moon is far away, and the moonlight is close." I work hard to collect moonlight and illuminate a small inch of the world. We have followed them, felt the bright sunshine, blown the sticky sea breeze, seen the ribbons fall on their shoulders, and looked forward to seeing them again with tears in our eyes.

Love is as common as breathing, taking root and growing, and entwining every summer. Time has no end. In the hustle and bustle, love is eternal, and memories are immortal.

At this moment, the sunrise and sunset in Hengdian, the ebb and flow of the tide in Beihai, the years are still long, slowly becoming romantic, slowly becoming brilliant.

"I hope it will be good news from now on"

-END.

#yizhan #bjyx #accio victuuri translation

110 notes · View notes

ghostsvacuumcleaner · 2 years ago

Text

You came — you called. | Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

credits for the header - ghost's pic by the very talented @ave661 ✦ Word count: 2.2k ✦ Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader ✦ Summary: After being abused by your current date, in need of comfort, you call your ex-boyfriend and recurring fling, Simon, to talk. ✦ TW and general warnings: SFW, some kisses here and there but no smut, angst, you guys are in a complicated situationship, fluff, sensitive content (domestic violence) ✦ AO3 | Masterlist edit: I wrote a part 2 in case you're interested <3

A/N: I really need to finish my already started requests, really do but inspiration ONLY gets to me when I'm randomly existing and then a random prompt comes in mind and arghhh gotta write 😭 but I promise - if anyone reading this sent me a request, know I've started it already and I WILL finish. also, thinking really a lot about making a part 2 for this piece and making it smutty. pls let me know if anyone's interested! anyways, not proof read, hope y'all enjoy, x

━━━━━━━━━ ⟡ ━━━━━━━━━

It’s the same place as the last time you saw him. Ironic, maybe. You still smoke the same cigarettes he offered to you once in a promise it would help you calm down from your anxiety; it did. It did a little too much. You still wear that same necklace you refused to get rid off even after you dumped him, after you promised you’d never see him again, never talk to him again. God, hope he doesn’t get mad at that.

Truth is you’ve been failing at that for quite some time. You’ve been seeing him way more than it’s necessary, but contrary to how things used to be before, now every moment with him is a single time that ceases to exist once you get home. He texts; you ignore. He doesn’t text anymore till the next time he misses you. You ignore it till the next time you miss him. This time isn’t much different, only you have a bit more of a reason to be here, unsure if he’ll show up, smoking this damned red Marlboro and feeling like shit. Like absolute shit.

You exhale the smoke, your hair tied back in a ponytail through the cap gap. Hiding yourself.

His big broad figure fills the door in, and he comes inside. To your big surprise, he decided lastly to come; Simon looks at you with a bitter look on his face, his dirty blonde hair trimmed, his beard done, wearing one of his thousand black tight t-shirts and a pair of jeans. He looks the same as ever.

“You came.” You say, surprised as he pulls the chair back and takes the seat in front of yours.

“You called.” He replies simply, his body relaxing spaciously in the chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yeah, I did.” You let out some more smoke before discarding your cigarette on the ashtray. “But I thought you were still mad at me.”

He looks at you in silence for a couple seconds, and scoffs.

“And that never stopped you from calling, did it?” He snorts impatiently. “Did something actually happen or are you just lonely and needing someone to help you fall asleep?” You feel derision in his attitude and his voice is dripping with venom and bitterness.

You close your eyes. Can’t blame him, can you? You had your own good reasons to break up with him, although stupidly, without thinking twice - without thinking that you’d end up missing him. Trying to find him in all the wrong places, wrong guys.

“Well go on, Simon, what else do you still have to tell me?” You mimic him, crossing your arms and your face a little twisted in irritation facing him. “I was single, I still am. I had the right to be with someone else.”

“I never blamed you for that. I never fucking blamed you.” Simon wipes his mouth with his hand, his ever icy expression breaking into frustration the second you open your mouth again.

“You are blaming me. You-”

“I fucking am not. I’m angry at the poor fucking choice you did. Getting rid of me for that fucker? You’re making a joke out of yourself, even for someone like me that’s fucking downgrading.” He snaps, regretting it the second later and squeezing his eyes for a moment.

You remain silent. He’s right. He’s absolutely right.

You stare into the distance of the window by your side, silent - embarrassed, regretful. Your hands together over your lap and your silence put together make him raise his head at you once again, in a sigh.

“I shouldn’t be here. Our conversations won’t ever end in anything good but me taking you to bed, if that’s what you want then I’ll gladly do it without all the trouble.” He states. You tremulously raise your eyebrows and your lips curl in a small hurt smile.

Ouch.

You know he said it to hurt you. You know he’s angry, he’s hitting all the right buttons to get under your skin, he can’t help it. He can’t help but to be a bastard sometimes, he never learnt different.

Your eye stare down your own hands, you feel your lips tremble and the lump in your throat gets bigger each second. It's hard to hold back the tears, but for your dignity, you try. There's no less brutal way to admit something like that, so you vomit the words all at once.

“He hit me, Simon.”

His eyes open, the pupils slowly dilate like those of a shark that has just tasted blood for the first time.

Simon has blood on his hands. From too many people, more than you could count. And even if that's his job, never in all those hard years with him - you swore - had you ever seen him so pissed off.

The veins in his temples stood out and he swallowed bitterly, his mind empty; If he wasn't an extremely restrained man, then he would have gotten up and taken action right now. A thoughtless attitude that he might later regret - maybe.

“Tell me his address.” He snaps, his blood boiling enough for you to almost feel the heat increasing in his flesh.

“Simon, no.” You immediately cut him off, shaking your head, almost crying at this point. "That's not what I called you for, I don't want you to hurt anyone. I broke up with him, I don't have anything to do with that son of a bitch anymore, I just-"

He interrupts you with a gesture and claps his hands to his face. He brushes his own skin roughly, as a self-reminder that if he gives in to his own anger, he'll let you down.

When he makes room for his eyes through his hands again and sees your reddened

face, tears streaming down your cheeks - he dies inside.

He promised he’d always be there for you. He promised he’d never let you down, he’d always protect you, he’d kill for you. He said it plenty of times and you were completely aware that it was true.

He couldn’t possibly let you down.

“No, please, I can’t- I just can’t when you cry.” He mutters, getting up from his seat and offering his hand. “You come with me. Please?”

━ ⟡ ━

The hot steaming water falls over your head, sweeping your tears as you hug your legs. Simon's fingertips brush calmly your back, he contours the bruises on your lower half like he's grieving. The silence fills in the bathroom if not for the sound of water dripping on your head. He pours some water on your back to soothe your pain - even if you're not feeling any at this point.

"Why did you not call me before?" He asks, with painful confusion in his raspy voice. His hands are shaking and you know it's pure anger and his own incapability of holding himself back when it comes to feeling anger. You sigh, tired.

"I don't know. I felt like I'd be unfair to you." You try to explain, your hands caressing your shins while the water runs through your skin. "And because I didn't want to get you in this state."

His eyes narrow as he stares at you, and you shrug in response. It's clear to him why you don't like to get him stressed - he could never hurt you, but he was a danger to others.

He waves his hands to shake off the water and stands up, grabbing and opening a clean towel for you.

You stand up, your eyes don't dare leaving his. He silently admires you, although his mind can't think much more than how guilty he feels for letting this happen to you - even though there was nothing he could do about it. You dry your feets on the mat and turn your back so he can wrap you in the towel, and he does so.

Simon calmly brushes the towel against your shoulders, drying a bit of the water that drips from your whole body and once he’s done wrapping you in the towel, he places his hands on your back and leads you to his room.

His smell is everywhere around and what used to be intoxicating and lustful for you, is now soothing and quiet. You sit on the edge of his bed, silence seeming to be now a whole conversation between the two of you.

Your hand reaches for his and places it on your cheek. You look up at him with kitty eyes, your thumb circles the skin on the back of his hand till it finds the scar you were looking for – one of his oldest ones, according to himself. You close your eyes and snuggle into his hand, giving it a light, calming kiss.

He caresses your cheek and moves your hair from your face.

“I’ll get you some fresh clothes.” He says in a whisper. You nod, and he comes back moments later with a clean shirt of his. You tug it in your neck and quickly put it on letting the fabric run free on your body, loose.

He starts removing rubbish from his bedside table – an ashtray, an empty can of energy drink, a gun. As you notice he seems to be trying to empty the room for you, you speak out.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"I'll be in the living room if you need me for anything." He says simply. Before he can leave the room, you stop him by wrapping your hand on his arm. The sudden motion makes him turn around to face you, his dark eyes gazing at yours and seeming already aware of what comes next – a protest.

"Simon." You use a warning tone, and he closes his eyes.

"You don't want to have me around now, kitten. I'm far from calm…" He argues, calmly looking down at you now. The proximity burns you, he's too close.

"I'm not scared." You mewl, your hands on his tough chest, he doesn't move a muscle. Your hands start trailing up to his neck, and you get on your tiptoes to wrap your arms better around him; Simon closes his eyes, drunk by the overwhelming feeling of having you so close to him. He misses you.

One of his hands holds your wrist before you manage to curl up on his neck, and the other one gently holds on your waist. He bends down enough so he can reach your tiny self. He gives you what you want - his lips slowly catch yours in a slow, calm kiss; the warmth of his lips against yours is medicine to you – soothes all of your pain, eases all of your anxiety. He squeezes on your waist and pulls back once he starts feeling heaty and his breath starts to become uncontrolled, needy. He breaths against your lips, his eyes barely closed and his breath catching on his throat like panting.

You stare at his lips before going back to his eyes.

"Stop." He snarls, raising his head a bit, avoiding your face and the closeness you impose on him now. It feels wrong. You need space.

You close your eyes, you understand. It feels wrong.

After all of this time of failed attempts to let go, to sound nonchalant and be away from each other – after all the fails and the sex, devoid of feeling type of sex, rough, delicious but raw sex, he wants to fuck you straight. He doesn't want to be angry, he wants to take you and make love to you.

You understand. Feels wrong.

"Will you be fine here? You need to rest and I need to take a walk, clear my head." He mutters, avoiding your eyes for the sake of restraining himself. You nod.

"I'll be alright. You'll come back, right?" You ask, looking at him - looking for his eyes. He stands back from you and nods.

"Of course." He assures you, before caressing your hair slowly and giving you a calm kiss on the forehead. "Rest. Do not stay awake waiting for me, hear me?" He snarls, grabbing his keys and a hoodie of his, tucking it in and giving you space.

You sit in his bed and nods, watching him leave by the room door and close it behind himself. Now alone, you close your eyes exhausted by the lack of sleep you've been having for these past few days; it doesn't take you long to fall asleep, surrounded by comfortable pillows that smell like his perfume – woody and whiskey.

Walking in the streets, with his hands digging in his hoodie's pocket and tough stomps, Simon's face lit up by the light emanating from the street lamps. His body swings slightly to the weight of his steps, and he breathes heavily.

After several minutes – more than he probably told you he'd take, he stops in front of a very familiar residence. You should know it wouldn't be any trouble for him to find your abuser's house.

He took a familiar piece of cloth out of his pocket, it had been time since he last wore it. Now seemed like a good moment. A balaclava, full face mask – handmade, with a skull painted on. Simon hugs you and kisses your scars; Ghost wants revenge.

#simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #cod fic #simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley imagine #ghost fluff #ghost x reader #cod ghost #simon riley #cod mw2

1K notes · View notes

the-winter-spider · 4 months ago

Text

Under Pressure | Part 4

Modern!Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: Anxiety, depression, angst, su!c!de

A/N: Ive had this part done for a bit it just took me awhile to edit and proof read because ive been a little down in the dumps. Sorry! 🫶🏻

Masterpost

----

The air smelled like saltwater and funnel cakes, the sticky-sweet scent mixing with the cool ocean breeze rolling in from the shore. The laughter of children rang out from the boardwalk, blending seamlessly with the distant whoosh of roller coasters and the upbeat tunes blasting from the game booths. The sun hung low in the sky, casting everything in warm golden hues, making it feel like the whole world was dipped in honey.

It was perfect. Almost too perfect.

Because you felt okay. Not great, not cured. But okay and for today, that felt like enough.

“Alright, who’s first?” Sam grinned, pointing at the towering wooden roller coaster ahead, its rickety frame swaying slightly with the wind.

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Not me. I’d like to live past tonight, thanks.”

Natasha smirked, nudging you with her elbow. “Coward.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t trust things built before color TV,” you shot back, making Steve snort.

Bucky, standing next to you with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket, leaned down slightly. “You’re just scared,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You turned to him with a deadpan expression. “No shit, Barnes.”

He laughed, warm and rich, and the sound made your chest feel lighter than it had in weeks. Maybe even months.

“Fine,” Sam said, clapping his hands together. “We’ll start easy…bumper cars.”

Natasha groaned. “Sam, you just wanna crash into Steve at full speed.”

“And?”

Steve sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I knew bringing you here was a mistake.”

“Oh, come on, Stevie.” Sam threw an arm around Steve’s shoulders, grinning. “Live a little.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but the corners of his lips twitched up into a smile. “How about the ferris wheel?”

Sam scoffed “What are you a girl?”

“Hey!” Natasha scolded him, shoving Sam’s shoulder.

You shook your head, laughing as they bickered. A real laugh, it scared you as it slipped out. The day was perfect. And yet that made your chest feel tight.

It was too perfect.

It didn’t feel real.

Because happiness like this never lasted.

Because you were waiting for the moment the day turned, for the moment the weight you always carried would creep back in, whispering in your ear that you didn’t deserve this. That none of this was real. That the second you went home, everything would feel empty again.

The laughter of your friends started to sound distant.

The crowd felt too close.

Your fingers twitched at your sides, curling and uncurling into small fists. Your breathing was still even, controlled but it took effort now. You kept your eyes on the Ferris wheel, pretending like the anxious knot forming in your chest wasn’t there, like you weren’t already fighting to keep yourself here, to not float away into your thoughts.

But Bucky noticed.

Because of course he did.

Because he always noticed.

Without a word, without even looking at you, his fingers brushed against yours. It was barely a touch, but it grounded you. And then he took your hand.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t showy. It wasn’t even intentional, really. It was just Bucky.

Quiet. Steady. Certain.

Like he was reminding you: Hey, I see you. You’re okay.

Like he was anchoring you back to the moment, back to him, back to the feeling of warm skin against yours, solid and real.

His thumb brushed over your knuckles absentmindedly, like second nature, like he wasn’t even thinking about it. But you felt it everywhere.

You swallowed hard but didn’t say anything.

The Ferris wheel groaned as it carried you upward, the city skyline stretching endlessly in the distance, twinkling under the navy-blue sky. Below, the boardwalk was alive with color, bright flashing lights from carnival rides, the neon glow of game booths, the golden warmth of streetlamps casting long shadows across the sand.

It was the kind of night that felt like a memory even as it was happening.

“I don’t wanna go home,” you admitted softly, barely loud enough to be heard over the wind.

Bucky, seated next to you, turned his head. “Yeah?”

You nodded, staring out at the ocean, watching as the waves reflected the moonlight. “It’s just… quiet there. Empty. Feels like the second I step inside, when I’m alone, all of this will disappear.”

Bucky was silent for a moment. Then, he nudged your knee with his. “Then don’t.”

You turned to look at him, confused.

His blue eyes, soft under the glow of the Ferris wheel lights, held onto something steady, something certain. “Stay over at my place,” he said. “Or I’ll stay at yours. Whatever you want.”

Your throat tightened, an unexpected warmth flooding your chest. “You don’t have to do that,” you murmured.

“I know I don’t,” Bucky said simply. “But I want to.”

And the way he said it, like it wasn’t even a question, like it was just fact, made your eyes sting more than they should have. You blinked quickly, turning back to the view, trying to shake off the sudden swell of emotion.

But Bucky wasn’t looking at the skyline.

He was looking at you. He was always looking at you.

And he was about to say something, something important, something that sat heavy on his tongue..

But then Sam’s voice rang out from below. “Hey, lovebirds! Get your asses down here! Rides done! Photo time!”

Bucky scoffed, leaning his head back against the seat. “Jesus Christ.”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling. “We should probably go before he starts yelling at strangers to take it for us.”

Bucky huffed a small laugh but stood up when the Ferris wheel came to a stop. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured, offering you his hand again.

“Alright, everybody squeeze in!”

Sam held the phone out in front of him, grinning as the five of you huddled together near the neon lights of the boardwalk.

Steve had his arm wrapped around Natasha’s waist, and she gave him bunny ears behind his head with a sly smirk. Sam was front and center, making sure to get the best angle.

And then there was Bucky.

One arm slung over Sam’s shoulders, his other wrapped tightly around you.

You had both arms wrapped around his middle, your head resting against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of him grounding you.

“You guys ready?” Sam grinned.

“Just take the damn picture, Wilson,” Bucky muttered.

You giggled against his chest, and his hold on you tightened slightly.

The camera flashed.

And in that moment, everything was perfect.

Everything was whole.

Because you had them.

And they had you.

----

The hospital room was unnervingly quiet, the kind of silence that made every small sound feel magnified. The rhythmic beeping of the machines filled the air, steady but fragile, like a heartbeat trying desperately to hold on. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a pale, artificial glow, washing out the already colorless walls. It made everything feel colder. Made you look colder.

Natasha sat at your bedside, her fingers resting lightly over yours, careful, as if too much pressure might break you. Your hand was small, limp, frighteningly cold. She rubbed her thumb absently over your knuckles, trying to warm you up, trying to remind herself that you were still here.

She’d never seen you like this. Never this still, never this pale. Your lips still carried the faintest tinge of blue, your skin almost translucent under the hospital lights. Your hair lay limp against the pillow, a stark contrast to the way it usually framed your face when you laughed, when you lived. But right now, you looked like a shadow of yourself.

She swallowed hard, her eyes flickering between your face and the monitors tracking your vitals. As if watching the numbers would somehow make them stronger, more stable. As if sheer willpower could undo what had happened, could pull you back from the place you’d nearly disappeared into.

The boys had gone back to your apartment, to get your phone, to reach your family, to make sure things weren’t a disaster when you came home. Because they were all so sure you would be. But really, she had sent them away because she needed to be alone. Not for herself, but for you.

She needed to sit here with you and let the guilt sink in. Needed to feel it, to let it settle in her bones, because God knows she deserved it.

For weeks, months, she had been angry with you.

She had stood outside your door, yelling through the wood, demanding to know why you couldn’t just show up for her, why you were always absent when it mattered.

But now, sitting here, she felt sick at the memory.

She had no right to be angry. Not when she had missed it. She had missed everything.

Her eyes burned as she looked at your frail hand in hers, her grip tightening instinctively. How had she not seen it?

Your sweaters, always oversized, always hanging loosely off your frame. She had thought it was just a style choice, something trendy. Not a way to hide how much weight you’d lost.

The way you never ordered a full meal anymore, just picked at appetizers or claimed you had already eaten. She had laughed about it, teasing you for being picky, never once questioning it.

Your texts, getting shorter, your responses more delayed, your excuses for missing plans more frequent. She had chalked it up to you being “busy.”

Busy.

You hadn’t been busy. You had been slipping. Drowning.

And she…so wrapped up in her own happiness, her own life, her own future, had never once pushed past the surface.

Her throat tightened as the memories came flooding back, each one sharper, more damning than the last.

Your smile, never quite reaching your eyes. Your sudden need to leave early when the group hung out, claiming exhaustion or an early morning.

The way your clothes seemed to hang off your frame. She had looked at you a thousand times and never seen you. “I’m such an idiot,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she squeezed your hand.

Her fingers curled around yours, as if anchoring you to her, as if holding on could somehow undo the damage already done.

“I thought I was a good friend,” she continued, her voice cracking. “I thought I was helping by giving you space, by letting you come to me when you were ready. But… you weren’t okay. You weren’t okay, and I didn’t see it.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, falling onto the stark white hospital sheet covering you. She didn’t bother wiping it away. She should’ve known. She should’ve asked.

But she had been too caught up in herself, in her promotion, in Steve, in the wedding she was already planning in her head. She had talked so much about herself. About her future, about the bright things ahead. And you had listened. Smiled. Nodded. Encouraged.

Never once saying how much you were hurting. Never once asking for help. She let out a shaky breath, guilt weighing heavy on her chest, suffocating her.

It wasn’t you.

It had never been you.

It was her.

She had blamed you for not being a good friend, when all along, she had been the one failing you. Her grip on your hand tightened, her forehead lowering until it nearly touched your arm.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking completely now. “I should’ve been better. I should’ve seen you, why didn’t I see you? You were there!”

Another tear fell. Then another. And another. She had accused you of not being there for her brightest moments. But now, sitting here, staring at what almost became your darkest one, she realized how selfish she had been.

How cruel.

“You’re not the shitty friend, Y/N,” she whispered, her voice shaking as the words barely made it past her lips.

“I was.” Her vision blurred, her shoulders shaking as silent sobs wracked her body. “It was never you.”

Her fingers brushed against your wrist, against the IV taped to your skin, her voice barely audible. “It was always me.”

The rhythmic beeping of the monitors continued, indifferent to the devastation sitting beside you.

And Natasha, lost in the weight of her own guilt, could do nothing but hold onto you.

And hope…pray…that when you woke up, she could somehow make it up to you.

---

Bucky didn’t want to leave. Every part of him screamed to stay, to plant himself in that hospital chair by your bedside until you opened your eyes, until you looked at him, until he could make sure, really, truly make sure, that you were still here.

But he wasn’t the only one hurting.

Everyone was.

Even if you didn’t think so, even if you believed the lie that you didn’t matter, that your absence wouldn’t leave a hole so gaping it felt impossible to fill, you were wrong. You were so wrong.

So, he left. He left because Natasha needed her time with you, because Steve, Sam, and himself had work to do, because there were things that needed to be done before you woke up. Before you came home.

Your apartment felt off.

Not just empty…abandoned.

The second they stepped inside, the stillness pressed against their chests like a weight. It wasn’t just quiet. It was stagnant. Like the air itself had given up, like time had stopped the moment you collapsed.

Steve flipped on the light, casting everything in a soft glow. The space was cluttered but not in an intentional way like you had been existing here, but not living. Dishes sat in the sink, forgotten. A crumpled blanket rested on the couch, untouched since the last time you curled up beneath it. The faint scent of lavender still lingered in the air, but it was stale now, faded.

Bucky’s breath caught when his eyes landed on the coffee table.

The pill bottle.

It sat there like a cruel reminder, a silent weight pressing down on the room.

His stomach turned violently, his throat tightening as he stared at it, his body rigid. He didn’t move, didn’t blink.

Steve followed Bucky’s gaze, his own body going unnervingly still when he registered what he was looking at.

This made it real.

Steve hadn’t been there. Not at your apartment, not in that room with the flashing lights and the pounding on the door. He had met them at the hospital, blindsided and panicked. But this…this solidified it in a way that made his stomach lurch.

He had been holding onto something… hope, that maybe it had been an accident. A mistake. A moment of carelessness, not a moment of decision.

But the bottle was empty.

Steve swallowed thickly, pressing his lips together as he exhaled through his nose. He moved first, his movements deliberate but gentle. He didn’t say anything as he picked up the bottle and turned toward the kitchen, tucking it out of sight.

Because when you came home, you weren’t coming home to this.

Sam, trying to refocus, spotted your phone on the kitchen counter, the screen black, battery drained. He grabbed it, searching for a charger before finally plugging it in.

“Alright, we’ll wait for it to power up,” he muttered, leaning against the counter, his eyes scanning the apartment like he was waiting for something to jump out at him.

Steve glanced around at the mess the small but telling signs of struggle, of isolation, of a person barely holding themselves together. It made his chest ache.

He sighed. “Let’s tidy up a bit,” he said. “When she comes home… she shouldn’t come back to this.”

Bucky should’ve helped.

But he stayed by the door, his arms crossed so tightly over his chest it almost hurt, his fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket like he was bracing for something. His face was pale, his jaw locked, his eyes heavy with something unreadable.

Sam caught the way he was standing there, unmoving, staring at the wall like he wasn’t even here.

“Hey,” Sam called cautiously, nodding toward the bathroom. “Why’s the mirror like that?”

The mirror was covered with an old towel, tucked haphazardly over the glass. It hadn’t been that way the last time Bucky had been over.

Bucky’s voice was monotone. “She broke it,” he said simply. “Punched it during a breakdown.”

Sam’s stomach twisted.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand down his face. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head before glancing back at Bucky.

“I saw it months ago,” Bucky murmured, barely above a whisper, his gaze fixated on your record player across the room. His jaw clenched. “I should’ve known then. Should’ve tried harder.”

Sam’s face tightened. “Buck, we said we weren’t gonna do that.”

Bucky ignored him, his eyes locked on the record player like it held some kind of answer, some kind of reason why he had missed everything.

“Instead, I just put our stupid song on. Like that would make everything better.”

Sam swallowed, his gaze flickering toward Steve, then back to Bucky.

“Buck,” he said gently.

But Bucky just shook his head, forcing himself to snap out of it, rolling his shoulders back, his face hardening.

“Forget it,” he muttered, stepping further into the room. “I’m fine.”

It was a lie.

But Sam didn’t call him out on it. Not yet.

Because no one in this room was fine.

“We should figure out what her PIN is,” he said after a while, glancing at the phone. “Once it’s on, we can check if her parents or anyone’s been trying to reach her.”

Silence.

Steve looked up.

Bucky was gone.

His stomach turned. He scanned the apartment before spotting the hallway light spilling into the darkened space. The door to your spare room was cracked open.

Steve and Sam exchanged a glance before Sam headed towards it.

The room was chaos. Not in the way the rest of the apartment was. No, this was different. This wasn’t life abandoned mid-motion.

This was a storm.

Papers were everywhere. Some scattered across the floor, others stacked haphazardly on your desk, mixed with unfinished drawings and torn sketches. There were notes too, some crumpled, others carefully folded. The bed was unmade, the blankets tangled and spilling onto the floor, like you hadn’t bothered fixing them in weeks.

But that wasn’t what made Bucky freeze.

It was the letters.

Neatly arranged in a row.

Each one labeled.

Steve. Natasha. Sam.

And then..

His name.

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded against his ribs, an unrelenting force that made his head swim.

“Bucky?” Steve called from the kitchen. “The phone’s on. What’s her PIN?”

No answer.

“Buck?” Sam’s voice was quieter, hesitant.

He stepped into the room and followed Bucky’s gaze.

His breath hitched. “Oh, fuck.”

Steve, still in the kitchen, frowned. “What?”

Sam didn’t answer.

His eyes flickered to Bucky, who hadn’t moved. His hand hovered over the letter with his name on it, fingers trembling slightly.

“What do we do?” Sam asked quietly. His voice was unsteady, uncertain. “We’re not gonna read them. Right? We can’t. She’s alive. She’s gonna live.”

Bucky didn’t respond.

He reached down, fingers brushing against the envelope. It felt heavier than it should have, as if every unspoken word inside had weight to it.

Then, without a word, he slipped it into his jacket pocket.

Sam swallowed. “Bucky—”

But Bucky turned on his heel, brushing past him, his footsteps heavy as he walked back into the living room.

Steve looked up as they entered, his brow furrowing. “What was that about?” he asked, eyes flicking between them.

Sam hesitated. “Just… something we found,” he said vaguely.

Steve narrowed his eyes but let it go. “Did you get her PIN?”

Bucky’s voice was flat. Detached. “She uses her birthday.”

The phone buzzed faintly in Steve’s hands as he typed in the familiar numbers, your birthday. The screen flickered to life, casting a dim glow in the silent apartment.

Bucky paced near the window, jaw clenched, hands stuffed deep in his pockets like he was trying to physically hold himself together. Sam leaned against the couch, arms crossed, his brow furrowed with an unease none of them could shake.

When the home screen finally loaded, Steve exhaled slowly. “Alright, let’s see if there’s anything…” he muttered, swiping through the lock screen. His finger hovered over the messages app, hesitation creeping into his expression.

Sam, already tense, leaned in. “Anything from her parents?”

Steve’s lips pressed into a thin line as he scanned the screen. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “No. Nothing.”

Sam pushed off the couch, his frown deepening. “No way. Let me see.”

Steve handed him the phone, and Sam instinctively locked and unlocked it again. The screen flashed with your wallpaper, a frozen moment in time, a photo that felt like it belonged to a different life.

Coney Island.

The five of you, standing in front of the Ferris wheel, faces lit with unfiltered joy. Steve had his arm wrapped around Natasha, who was grinning as she gave him bunny ears. Sam was in the middle, arm extended to take the picture, his laugh almost audible through the image. And then there was Bucky, one arm slung around Sam’s shoulders, the other wrapped tightly around you, holding you against his side. You had both arms wrapped around his middle, your head resting against his chest like it was second nature.

Sam swallowed hard. His thumb hovered over your face, tracing it absentmindedly.

“How’d we get here, man?” he asked, his voice quiet, heavy with something neither of them wanted to name.

Bucky stopped pacing, his gaze flicking toward the phone. He stared at the image for a second too long before tearing his eyes away, turning back toward the window.

Sam cleared his throat, shaking himself out of it. He opened the messages app and started scrolling, his expression darkening.

“There’s… nothing here,” he said slowly. “No missed calls. No texts. Nothing.”

Steve frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. Refresh it, throw the apps up, it's what Nat does. Let me check again.”

Sam handed the phone back, and Steve repeated the process, scrolling through each thread with careful precision. But the result was the same.

Empty. Silent.

Steve let out a slow exhale, his shoulders sagging handing the phone back to Sam. “I don’t get it,” he said softly. “How do you not—” He stopped himself, jaw tightening.

Sam dragged a hand down his face, frustration creeping into his tone. “How do your own parents not check on you? How do they not notice something’s wrong? What the hell is this?”

Bucky let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “I’m not surprised,” he muttered, his voice low, bitter.

Steve looked up sharply. “What do you mean?”

Bucky turned to face them, his expression dark, eyes stormy.

“She was never their priority,” he said, his voice clipped, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “They didn’t want a kid. They barely paid attention to her growing up. Half the time, they didn’t even show up to her school stuff or her birthdays.”

Sam’s jaw tensed. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“I wish I was,” Bucky said, his voice rising slightly. “She used to tell me about it, back in high school. How they were always too busy for her. How she felt like she didn’t matter to them. And now? Now she’s lying in a fucking hospital bed—” His voice cracked, and he exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “And they still can’t be bothered to check on her.”

Steve’s stomach churned as he glanced down at the phone again. His thumb swiped through your last messages, and his chest tightened. “When was the last time she messaged them?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

Sam leaned over to check, his eyes scanning the timestamps. His face fell.

“A little over two weeks ago,” he said. “She sent them an I love you. That’s it.”

Steve felt like someone had punched him in the gut. “Did they even respond?”

Sam clenched his jaw. “Nope,” he said bitterly, pointing at the tiny indicators next to the messages. “They read it. Both of them. That’s it.”

Bucky’s face contorted with something ugly, rage, grief, frustration, all tangled into something uncontainable. “What the fuck is wrong with them?” he spat, pacing again, his movements sharp, erratic. “What kind of parents just read that and don’t even bother to text back? What kind of people do that to their own kid?”

Sam’s face hardened. “I don’t know, man. But it’s messed up.”

“Messed up?” Bucky repeated, his voice shaking with fury. “It’s fucking cruel. She’s amazing. She’s kind, beautiful and funny and smart and she would do anything for the people she loves. And this is what she gets?”

Steve sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “Bucky—”

“No,” Bucky snapped, his voice cracking, his anger bleeding into something more raw, more desperate. “Do you know how hard she tries? How much she hides?” His voice wavered, and he shook his head, running both hands through his hair. “And for what? For people who don’t even care enough to ask if she’s okay? How do they not see how incredible she is? How lucky they are to have her?”

Sam stepped forward, his voice softer now. “We see it, Buck. We see her. And that’s what matters. She’s got us.”

“Did she though?” Bucky stopped pacing, his shoulders slumping as the fight drained out of him. He looked at the floor, his hands shaking slightly as he clenched them into fists. “She deserves better,” he whispered, voice thick. “Better parents. Better… everything.”

Steve set the phone down on the coffee table and stepped closer, resting a firm hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“She has you, Buck,” he said, voice steady. “That’s better than anything else.”

Bucky swallowed hard, his eyes glassy. He nodded stiffly. “When she wakes up,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “I’m gonna make sure she knows that. Every single day.”

The room was unbearably quiet, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

Finally, Sam cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Alright,” he said, his voice rough. “Do we… text them? Her parents?”

Bucky didn’t hesitate. “No,” he said flatly. “If they didn’t care enough to check in before, they don’t get to act like they care now. Not unless she wants them to.”

Steve exhaled sharply. “So… what do we do now?”

Bucky’s hand drifted to his pocket, fingers curling around the letter like an anchor.

“We make sure she’s okay,” he murmured. “And when she comes home… she’s not coming back alone.”

Steve frowned. “What do you mean?”

Bucky straightened, his jaw set, his expression resolute.“I’m staying,” he said. “I’ll sleep on the pull-out. I’m not leaving her alone again.”

Sam and Steve exchanged a look but didn’t argue.

Then, after a beat, Bucky exhaled sharply, scrubbing a hand over his face. His voice was quieter this time, almost hoarse.

“I need a second,” he mumbled.

And before anyone could stop him, he turned and walked out of the room.

The stillness of your bedroom was deafening. It wasn’t the kind of silence that brought peace, it was the kind that pressed down on him, heavy and suffocating, as if the walls themselves were grieving. The faint scent of your lavender perfume lingered in the air, mingling with the sharp smell of stale tears and despair.

Bucky sat on the edge of your bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. His fingers trembled as they traced the edge of the envelope, your handwriting staring back at him. Bucky—just his name, written in a shaky but deliberate hand.

His chest felt tight, like there was a vise wrapped around his ribs, squeezing with every breath. He didn’t want to open it. He didn’t want to see the words you’d left behind, the thoughts you’d decided to put on paper because you thought it was the end. But at the same time, he couldn’t stop himself.

With a shaky inhale, he slid his finger under the flap of the envelope, carefully pulling out the folded piece of paper inside. It felt heavier than it should have, as if the weight of your pain had seeped into the very fibers of the page.

He unfolded it slowly, his eyes scanning the first line.

Bucky,

I don’t even know where to start. I guess that’s the funny thing about goodbyes…you never know how to make them feel enough.

He blinked hard, his vision blurring as the words swam on the page. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears.

You’ve always been my person. My constant. My safe place. And I know I don’t deserve you…not the way you’re always there, always showing up, even when I push you away. I don’t know how you do it, Buck. I don’t know how you can look at me and see anything worth staying for.

A shaky breath escaped him, and he pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes, trying to push back the tears that threatened to spill. But it was no use.

I’ve tried so hard to fight this, to be stronger, to hold on. For you. For Sam, Steve, Nat. For all of you. But I can’t anymore. It’s too much. I’m too much. And I’m so so sorry for putting that on you.

The paper trembled in his hands as his tears dripped onto the ink, smudging the words slightly. His jaw clenched, and his throat tightened as he kept reading, his voice breaking as he whispered the words aloud.

I want you to know that this isn’t your fault. It’s not because you weren’t enough, you were more than enough. You’ve always been more than enough. If anything, you’re the reason I held on as long as I did. You were my anchor, Bucky. My reason to stay. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t strong enough to keep holding on.

Bucky’s breath hitched, and he lowered the letter to his lap, his hand coming up to clutch his chest. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, like the air had been sucked out of the room.

“You’re wrong,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “You’re so wrong, sweetheart. You are strong. You’re the strongest person I know.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, his shoulders shaking as the sobs overtook him. The weight of your words crushed him, guilt and grief intertwining in his chest until it was almost unbearable.

But he forced himself to keep reading.

I don’t want you to blame yourself for this. I need you to hear that, to believe it. This isn’t your fault, Bucky. This was my choice. And I hope…more than anything, that you can forgive me someday.

You deserve so much, Buck. So much more than I ever gave you, more than I could ever give you. I hope you find that someday. I hope you find someone who can love you the way you deserve to be loved. Because you deserve everything.

Thank you for being my best friend, my light in the dark, my everything. I love you, Bucky. I love you. I love you always have, and I always will.

Goodbye.

His hands tightened around the paper, his knuckles turning white as he reread the final word. Goodbye. It felt like a knife twisting in his chest, sharp and unrelenting.

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he buried his face in his hands. His tears soaked into his palms, and his shoulders shook with the force of his grief.

Bucky sat frozen on the edge of your bed, staring at the letter in his hands. It was crumpled slightly where his trembling fingers had gripped it too tightly, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go. His mind replayed your words over and over, your pain etched into every line, every sentence.

A soft knock on the bedroom door startled him, and he quickly wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Buck?” Sam’s voice was gentle, cautious. “We’re getting ready to head back to the hospital. You ready?”

Bucky didn’t answer right away. He stared at the letter in his lap, his thumb brushing over your name written on the envelope.

The door creaked open, and Sam stepped inside, Steve close behind him. Steve glanced around the room, his gaze softening when it landed on Bucky.

“I need to get Nat home,” Steve said quietly. “I know she hasn’t eaten all day, and you know how she gets when she’s worried. She’ll make herself sick if we’re not careful.”

Bucky nodded faintly, his movements stiff and robotic. He stood slowly, still clutching the letter as he turned to face them. His voice was hoarse when he spoke.

“She loves me,” he said, his eyes downcast.

Sam frowned, confused. “Who? Natasha?”

Bucky shook his head, holding up the letter as if it explained everything. “Y/N,” he said quietly. “She loves me. Not as a friend, not like that. She… she actually uh loves me too.”

Sam blinked, then let out a soft laugh, his lips quirking into a bittersweet smile. “Yeah, well, I could’ve told you that,” he said, crossing his arms. “You’re both idiots. All these years, dancing around each other like the rest of us didn’t see it.”

Steve snorted, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “Please. I’ve known since high school. You think I didn’t notice the way she looked at you during football games? Or how you’d lose your mind whenever she skipped school?”

Bucky let out a weak laugh, shaking his head. “I can’t believe how much time I wasted,” he said, his voice cracking. “All those years I could’ve been with her, and I just… wasted them.”

Sam stepped closer, clapping a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “You didn’t waste anything, man,” he said softly. “You were there for her in the ways that mattered. You still are.”

Bucky’s grip on the letter tightened, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Do you think…” He paused, his voice trembling. “Do you think if I’d told her…if she knew how much I love her…that she wouldn’t have…” His voice broke, and he gestured helplessly.

Sam sighed, his hand squeezing Bucky’s shoulder. “You can’t think like that, Buck,” he said firmly. “The ‘what ifs’ and the ‘if onlys’ aren’t gonna help. They’re not gonna help her, and they’re sure as hell not gonna help you.”

Steve nodded in agreement. “Sam’s right,” he said gently. “This isn’t about what you didn’t do. It’s about what you do now. And right now, she needs you to keep showing up for her. That’s all you can do.”

Bucky closed his eyes, exhaling shakily as he tried to steady himself. “I just… I don’t want to lose her,” he whispered.

“You’re not,” Sam said, his voice steady. “She’s alive, Buck. She’s still here. That’s what matters. And we’re all gonna make damn sure she knows that.”

Bucky nodded slowly, slipping the letter into his jacket pocket. He straightened his shoulders, the weight of his grief still heavy but his resolve stronger now.

“Let’s go,” he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

As they left your apartment, Bucky glanced back one last time, his eyes lingering on the room that held so much of your pain—and so much of his guilt.

---

The first thing you felt was pressure.

A dull, suffocating weight settled over your chest, pressing down on your ribs like an invisible hand. Every breath felt foreign, like your lungs weren’t your own, like your body wasn’t yours to control.

Then came the sound.

The steady, rhythmic beeping of a machine. The faint murmur of voices just beyond your reach. The sterile hum of fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. It was all distant, muffled like you were underwater, trying to break the surface but never quite making it.

Then came the pain.

A deep, aching soreness that crept through every inch of your body, weighing you down like you’d been wrung out and left to dry. Your limbs felt too heavy, your head throbbed in a way that made it hard to think, and your throat burned raw and parched, like you’d swallowed glass.

Panic stirred beneath your skin.

Your fingers twitched against stiff sheets. The sensation was slow to register, sluggish, delayed, like the connection between your mind and body had frayed. Something was clipped to your finger. Something else was wrapped around your wrist.

Where am I?

Your breathing hitched, your chest rising and falling in uneven gasps as confusion clawed its way through you. Your eyelashes fluttered, and the blinding sting of fluorescent light made you wince. You blinked rapidly, trying to adjust, but everything was hazy shapes blurring together, colors muted and unfamiliar.

Nothing made sense.

And then..

“Y/N?”

The voice cut through the fog. Soft, familiar, but laced with panic.

Your gaze drifted toward the sound, sluggish and disoriented, and through the haze, you saw her.

Natasha.

Her red hair was messy, her eyeliner smudged like she’d been crying. She was sitting beside you, her hand resting lightly on your arm, her fingers barely brushing your skin. Her green eyes, usually sharp, guarded were wide, raw with something between relief and sheer panic.

“Oh my god,” she breathed. “You’re awake.”

Your brow furrowed. Awake?

Something was wrong.

You weren’t at home.

The air smelled too clean, sharp with the sterile bite of antiseptic. The sheets beneath you were stiff, the hospital blanket too thin. The room was cold, the fluorescent lights casting everything in an artificial glow. Machines beeped softly beside you, their steady rhythm a cruel reminder that something had happened…something big.

Then the word hospital settled into your bones.

And everything came crashing down.

Your heart pounded against your ribs, each beat erratic and frantic as your mind scrambled for answers.

The pills.

The phone call.

Bucky’s voice desperate, breaking, pleading.

You sucked in a sharp breath, your fingers curling weakly into the blanket as the realization hit. The darkness you had welcomed had spit you back out.

A choked sob escaped your throat before you even realized you were crying.

“Oh, babe—” Natasha’s voice broke, but she didn’t know what to do. She squeezed your arm gently, her fingers tightening slightly, but it wasn’t enough to ground you.

The walls felt like they were closing in.

Your chest rose and fell in quick, uneven gasps. The heart monitor beside you picked up speed, beeping frantically in sync with your panic.

You weren’t supposed to be here.

You didn’t want to be here.

The sobs came harder now, your body trembling as the weight of everything settled over you like a tidal wave, pulling you under.

“Y/N, just breathe, okay?” Natasha’s voice wavered as she stood up, panic creeping into her own expression. “I—I’ll get someone, just—just hang on.”

She turned on her heel and ran, disappearing into the hallway.

Chaos.

The door burst open, and suddenly there were too many people. Too many voices, overlapping, mixing together until they became nothing but static.

Too many hands, pressing against your shoulders, trying to steady you, trying to hold you down.

“Y/N, you need to breathe—”

“You’re safe, just try to slow your breathing—”

You couldn’t.

The room was too bright. The machines were too loud.

Your body wasn’t yours.

Your chest was caving in, collapsing under the weight of panic and grief and something sharp, something unbearable.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to run.

But all you could do was cry. Because this was something else you couldn’t do right, another thing you had failed at.

----

Natasha stood frozen just beyond the glass, her hands clasped over her mouth as she watched helplessly. Her whole body trembled, shock and guilt and fear swirling inside her like a hurricane.

“Nat?”

She turned just in time to see Steve, Sam, and Bucky rushing down the hall, their faces etched with concern.

“What happened?” Steve asked breathlessly.

Natasha’s lips parted, but no sound came out.

“She—” Her voice cracked. “She woke up.”

A beat of silence.

Bucky moved.

He shoved past them, his pace quickening as he made a beeline for the door. “I need to see her,” he said, already reaching for the handle.

But before he could step inside, a nurse blocked his path.

“Sir, you need to stay out here—”

Bucky barely heard her.

His eyes locked on the window, and what he saw shattered him.

You—curled in on yourself, crying so hard your entire body shook.

Doctors surrounding you, their voices drowned out by the sound of your ragged breathing.

The heart monitor beeping too fast, erratic and uneven.

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat.

His chest ached with something unbearable, something desperate. “I need to see her,” he repeated, his voice raw, cracking. “Please—”

“You can’t right now,” the nurse said firmly, her hand pressing against his chest. “She’s in distress—we need to help her calm down first.”

Bucky’s hands curled into fists at his sides. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to go to you, to hold you, to fix this.

But all he could do was stand there.

Helpless.

Useless.

Sam swallowed hard beside him, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath.

Steve placed a steadying hand on Bucky’s shoulder, his own face pale, his breathing uneven.

“She’s awake,” he said, trying to ground himself in that fact. “That’s what matters.”

Bucky didn’t respond.

Didn’t blink.

His eyes never left you.

His best friend. His everything.

Crying like the whole world was collapsing around her.

And he couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x steve #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader angst #james bucky barnes #bucky batnes x reader angst #james barnes x you #bucky x female reader

165 notes · View notes