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#well! summer music lets go <3
galatariel · 1 year
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3D JUNGKOOK FT. JACK HARLOW (2033)
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eggmeralda · 4 months
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do you ever feel casually suicidal? like you're not depressed or anything you're doing fine but also it feels like a convenient option
#if you can't make connections with people or be seen by anyone then like. at least you can feel like you're helping a better cause#to like charities and gfms and anyone else#but you have to tone that down bc you're slowly losing money bc you still can't get a job#and bc you don't have a job it means you're just stuck in the house all day. which gives Way Too Much opportunity to Think about everything#and also so like. i still share a room with my sister but it was fine bc she'd stay at her bf's a few nights a week#but he's got a job that's a bit further away and basically she can't go round his as much. so now it's maybe like once a week#the room is getting messier so it gives me less energy to do anything#you can get really into an unhealthy weight loss obsession bc at least it feels like you're getting towards something#but idek is set weight theory real? bc once i get down to a certain point it suddenly resets#like honestly counting calories and donating money to every gfm i saw and writing a film script was what kept me going#but first one isn't working and second i need some sort of income and third is finished and i have no way of actually creating it#and then there's the whole lack of stable hyperfixation and ability to find new music i enjoy#and realistically what would fix me is having a good job that i enjoy and somewhere to live on my own#but until i get a job that's currently impossible. and even then it probably won't feel like enough#my entire life is lived on my phone i need more physical objects but i don't have enough space#bc i share a room with my sister. it's like all my problems are connected#and i have enough optimism that i still think it'll get better in the next few weeks. maybe i'll be able to get a job and that'll#get everything going again#but at the same time i could easily just die#I've graduated from uni. I've seen the who live 3 times. I've crashed my car twice. I've watched 30 years of corrie. I've met various dogs#what else is there to do with my life honestly#(<- joking)#but yeah like. in summer 2021 i almost got suicidal (it was just letting the occasional thought linger in my mind etc)#but that was bc i was so depressed#but now it feels like i could just kill myself. but more just out of convenience#idek. i'm not gonna kill myself. bc i have a job interview on tuesday. and just in general i won't#but there is this casual feeling of like. well i might as well. i can't describe it#ramble#suicide tw#weight loss mention
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toastsnaffler · 7 months
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damn I rly have another 4 weeks of holiday this year huh. I should start making some plans
#well maybe more like 3 weeks bc I wanna keep some to use for long weekends or day trips#but thats still kind of a lot..#my problem is i dont wanna take time off just to stay at home bc I do that most weekends. but im not sure I rly wanna go anywhere either#I dont mind travelling but its very much just a function for me. even when im travelling for fun + not bc I Have to it feels no different#Im v independent but I just dont rly have the adventurers spirit. plus im disabled so going new places alone is so stressful sometimes#ugh I dont wanna let my parents catch wind of how much holiday i have tho bc theyll be like come stay with us for a week!#i will Kill Myself no thanks#theyll probs already get christmas with me and thats an ordeal enough#its the expense as well idk how much its worth it. even if i can afford it like that money couldve gone into so many other things#ahhh.#my flatmate did suggest we go somewhere together but i feel like shes gone off that idea.. ik she doesnt get as much holiday anyway#id feel bad eating into it just so she has to spend more time with me even tho we already live together. nightmarish ik#there are maybe some landscapes id like to see but not alone bc id wanna hike but i dont rly have any friends into that kinda hiking#like i cant rly just fuck off into the mountains for a week by myself the risk is stupid#i dont knooooow. maybe ill just do myself a cornwall trip v early or late summer when kids are in school that might be nice#bc its just trains to get there. and ive spent a lot of time alone there before like it wouldnt be as stressful as a New Place entirely#i wanna do a music festival in the summer too but rly id only need 2 days holiday for that. and again i cant rly go alone#so i need to find ppl to convince to come w me#god i feel so lame for not rly wanting to go on proper holidays. but its never felt worth it to me sorry 😭#blame the childhood trauma or whatever#ill stew on it and maybe ill think of something we'll see. ive got a while yet before id need to book stuff anyway#gotta do some more cleaning today but the sooner i can get it done the sooner i can play elden ring 🙏🙏🙏🙏#.diaries
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linoguy · 1 year
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i like that they view the songs and performance as one because again, the reason im here to begin with is because i wanted to watch cool dancing that fit my taste and they did the trick, and then i loved their music so v much. but i do wish they viewed their music as stand alone too <3 they have intense and intricate dances that they're not gonna be able to do once they hit their later years (if they're still together) so its like -.- look out for our own backs boys, pls
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truthundressing · 1 year
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success 😎
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mistymisfit · 2 months
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How he shows he loves you
Summary: 3 short blurbs on how Jason shows reader he loves them.
warnings: mentions of reader being kidnapped, but descriptions are very vague lol.
wc: 2k
a/n: This isn't edited at all, but it has been sitting on y drafts for wayyyy too long
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Jokes
Disappointment is not the initial reaction he hoped for when he came in through your front door. Shock would've been a more appropriate response, since your music was too loud and you didn't hear him come in. He decided to pull a prank and scare you, silently making his way to the kitchen where you were having a karaoke session. Which given how quiet he could be when he wanted to, it was not that hard at all. Now Jason tries to hold back his laugh, a boyish grin plastered across his features that he wouldn't be able to suppress even if he tried.
"What are you making?" He whispers next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. If he was being honest, he'd say he is concerned about how long it takes you to notice there's someone else in your apartment. But right now, he's too caught up in the bliss of being in your presence that he can't bring himself to care.
"Oh, you're early." You say after the scream you let out when he comes up behind you, seemingly out of nowhere to whisper in your ear.
"Why? You're mad?" He replies, hiding his insecurity behind sass. What if you didn't want him there? What if he's overstayed his welcome? But before he can come up with some convoluted reason for why you don't want him anymore, you're stopping him.
"I just wanted to have this done by the time you got here" You signal back at the food with your head. And he looks over, finally realizing you were cooking his favorite meal.
"What's the special occasion?"
"Nothing," You blush "Can't a girl just cook for her boyfriend?"
"Not unless she wants me to make her my wife," He teases, you roll your eyes, growing accustomed to these types of jokes. Once he reached a certain level of domesticity and was comfortable enough in the relationship, he started to talk about how he was gonna marry you. Jason would even jokingly refer to you as his wife. At first, he made you blush, now it was just the usual routine.
You would lie if you said it didn't excite you and make your feelings all mushy when he did that, your heart felt warmer when he showed how committed he was to you. You felt giddy whenever he said "When we get married", he never said if we get married, he was very certain about wanting to spend the rest of his life with you. Your heart skipped a beat whenever he'd drop a detail of his dream wedding, "We're having a chocolate cake, like the one in Matilda" or "I'm kissing the fuck out of you on that altar". One time he said: "If you liked that, imagine what our honeymoon would be", that one got him a soft slap on his chest as you chuckled.
"How did you get here anyways?" You change the subject, going back to your cooking.
"Used the front door" He answers with a smirk, arms wrapping around your waist as he steps closer to you.
"Really? How?"
"Cause I'm your boyfriend," He replies like it's the most obvious thing in the world. It is, but he didn't need to say it like that. "I have been for a while, and you gave me your keys"
"Damn, my doorman just lets anyone in these days" You joke and you can hear the little "tsk" that comes from his mouth as he lets go of you.
"I can leave and come back from your window" He's kidding, but you know him well enough to know he's willing to follow through just for the sake of doing a bit. Instead, you hold his arm, pulling him back to you in between giggles.
"Please, I finally have boot imprint-free windowsills"
He laughs, it's real laughter, not his usual chuckle. It makes your heart work overtime as you watch his smile reach his eyes so much that he ends up closing them. He pulls you in for a kiss before he lets you go to finish the dinner you worked so hard on. The food that when he takes a bite from has him asking:"You want a summer or spring wedding?"
Touch
Even if he's less inclined to admit this, Jason knew that before you met he was touch starved. And now he can't get enough of it, he's constantly on your side or with his hands on you in any way, shape or form. It came as a shock--to him-- how badly he needed you sometimes, he never felt this about anyone before. He swears he's not usually this clingy.
You are walking down the street and suddenly you're not holding his hand or bicep and he's grabbing your hand and putting it back. He could never be one of those boyfriends who don't notice when their partner stops holding their hand, if you ever so that he's immediately holding your hand again and asking what's wrong.
Sometimes his touch is protective. You are going through a crowded space and he has his hand placed on the small of your back, guiding you and making sure nothing ever happens to you. It turns a little too protective when another guy tries talking to you and he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in for a kiss.
But most of the time, he's all alone with you, lying down on bed or a couch, and he's tracing shapes on your uncovered skin. He leans his head closer when you play with his hair or God forbid you touch his face, it has his knees giving out. He loves feeling your weight on top of him, loves feeling you're real and that you're with him and not going anywhere. Maybe he sneaks a hand under your clothes if he feels daring, and your attention doesn't shift. It amazes him how he's allowed this, how much access you give him. And over everything else, it doesn't have to be sexual. Casual skin to skin contact did not have to mean anything else; it was just that.
With you he's experienced that not every touch has violence behind it, not every contact has an ulterior motive. So he's so gentle with you, maybe he is not good with words, so he makes up for it. You know he shows his affection in action rather than words, he's not that far from worshiping the ground you walk on. He's specially kind when you know you're vulnerable; he presses kisses to your face as much as he can and to your shoulder blades when he can't. You know he's a big softy since you've pretended to be asleep multiple times as he played with your hair. An more than once you've heard him whisper hushed love confessions he never thought you'd hear. His hands are rough with criminals but you'd never be able to tell by how kind he's around you.
Priority
Jason wants you to know you can count on him for anything, he makes a point of it by telling you multiple times. You ran out of milk? He's buying it on his way to your place Your apartment needs fixing and your landlord won't help? Problem's solved within the hour. Maybe you got terrible cramps, he's there to help you however you want him to. So it's no surprise to you or anyone that the second you're in danger he drops everything else. You're his number one priority.
"Where is she?" He pushes Bruce for information, which he was adamant in not telling him. Knowing Jason, he'd end up acting before he thinks it through, he'd show up unprepared and end up causing a disaster. Or at least that is what Bruce thinks about the son who plotted his revenge against him for years to the last minute detail.
"Jason" He mutters under his breath.
"I swear to God if I find out someone touched a hair in her head because you wasted time-"
"You go with me or you don't" He threatens "at all."
And Jason loves you so much, he's willing to agree to work with him in a heartbeat. He puts all his resentment aside when he thinks it will help you, if it meant working with the bat and abiding by his rules, then so be it. He'll track down the poor fucker who took you and kill him later. He didn't like being around him, it made him feel tense due to the incredibly strained relationship between the two of them. Bruce loved Jason, but sadly his way of showing it translated quite the opposite way in the younger one's eyes.
Bruce was being too quiet about what happened to you. All he knew was that he couldn't reach you, you were not at any of the usual places, and your friends had no idea where you were either. He checked your apartment and things were perfectly placed, no one had broken in--other than him. Then when he tracked your phone, which he only promised to do in extreme situations like today, he found it inside your purse thrown in some dirty alleyway. That's when his panic hit its peak and turned back to get his red hood gear and ask the bats if they knew anything about you.
He got to a warehouse, standing next to Bruce he decides to push him a bit more to get anything out of him. His mind was killing him with questions, were you okay? what happened? how did he know? and couldn't bear another second next to the stoic figure not willing to tell him anything.
"It's Mad Hatter, he's been taking people off the streets for-"
"Is she okay?" He cuts off, he has no space in his mind for whatever crazy thing he had planned against Batman or the city. Not when he's not sure you're safe, when Bruce won't even tell him if you're alive.
"She should be" He gives in "I'll take care of him, you handle hostages"
That's all he needs, he braces himself before following after Bruce, watching every step he made as it could make the difference between losing you or saving you. Jason's a bit pissed he's relegated to hostages much like he was during his time as Robin but decides against questioning for now. He steps and breathes as quietly as he can while he makes his way past the sign that reads "Wonderland". He silently signals to Bruce that they should split and cover more ground, to which he agreed with a curt nod. His masks allows him to have a better vision in the dark, so he can see how filthy the place was and how worn down the wonderland decorations were. He doesn't know if the man was there, but knowing Bruce he sent him on a path he wasn't likely to find him alone.
He finally finds some of his hostages, two twins laying unconscious on the floor. He tried waking them up to no success; he saw their chests move up and down as they breathed, so he knew he could worry about that later. Moving further, he sees a couple more people, all dressed up as characters like the twins were, in the same state. He then moves to the tea party, where another two kids dressed as the animals in the book sat with their heads on the table. He picks one of them up and rests them in a more comfortable position on the floor using what he could to make a cushion for their head, then does the same with the other kid. He thinks it's the least he could do if he couldn't wake them up. After a nerve-wracking walk through Lewis Caroll's nightmare he finds you, he feels his soul getting back to his body when his eyes finally land on you.
You lay on a floor that resembles a chessboard wearing a white dress and a crown, a little blonde girl with a light blue dress is cuddled up on your arms. He kneels down next to you, whispering your name and grabbing your shoulder to shake you in an almost desperate attempt to wake you.
"Please, please" He's sure if someone could hear how pathetic he sounded, his reputation would be ruined forever.
"Jay?" You manage to mutter under your breath, still not opening your eyes.
"Yes, I'll get you out of here"
"Hm, hats" you hummed, he doubted you were even aware of anything.
"I know, baby"
"off" Your voice was low and it seemed to him that you were fighting to stay awake and losing.
He took off the crown from your head and the headband from "Alice's". Listening to your advice, even if you were barely conscious. Once he confirmed you were okay, he carried you out. Then he came back for the little girl next to you, and so on until everyone was out and hat free. By that time police had arrived, and Batman was handing Jervis' ass to the cops to begin the cycle once more. He holds back, watching from afar to avoid getting caught. He watched as Batman shared a few words with Gordon, then Barbara tuned in to let him know which hospital they were taking you to.
When you wake up he is next to you, holding your hand and with the biggest eye-bags you've ever seen him with. He almost starts crying when you call his name in a hoarse whisper.
"I'm okay,"You whisper, wrapping your arms tightly around him. The scene is too touching as you see someone put a hand on his shoulder and tell him something.
"I'll go tell the doctors you woke up" He excused himself, reluctant even to let go of your hand, much less entertained by the idea of being separated from you too long.
You didn't see him as Jason's frame covered the man behind him but now you notice the one and only Bruce Wayne standing in your hospital room. It was too much to take in.
"Oh, Jason must really love me if he was willing to work with you"
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stevie-petey · 2 months
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episode eight: the battle of starcourt
He fights with it, tries desperately not to let it fall, all while his resume hangs from his mouth. “Shit! Oh, Fast Times! Ever heard of it? Top three for me, Keith.” Robin laughs and Steve turns the cardboard cutout to you, wiggling his eyebrows. “Own any red bikinis?” You flick his forehead, though you laugh as well. “In your dreams.” “I can sleep right now and find out–” “I will flick you again.” “A kiss is preferred, but whatever.”
Summary: jonathan becomes a certified surgeon, hopper returns and is oddly sentimental (wonder what that could mean !), you and dustin show off your musical theater talents, the mind flayer becomes a track star, fireworks become weapons, and really a lot just happens so suddenly it gives you whiplash. dont worry though, the rest of your summer involves painful goodbyes and the scary realization that youre growing up. absolutely disgusting. but at least steve gets to kiss you whenever now, so hooray for that ! side note: you keep making promises to people, surely there wont be narrative foreshadowing as a result !
Rating: general, violence and swearing
Warnings: blood, swearing, major character death, graphic depictions of violence, fem!reader, use of y/n
Words: 21.2k (ouch)
Before you swing in: this was my magnum opus. truly. so so so much happens in this chapter, this episode is INSANE. it took me a while, the scenes were hard and complex, but im happy with the final results :) ive been waiting a long time to write this ending, to set up the strings for later in season 4 <3 i sincerely hope this chapter is all yall have wanted. if theres any glaring typos, pls ignore because its 21.2k words and im weak from rereading it. anyways, i have a sneaky lil link right here that will make sense at the end of the chapter (spoiler alert: it's a mixtape jonathan makes for bug). enjoy !
-
El’s screams tear out of her body. She writhes in pain, sobs claw out of her throat. It’s unbearable to watch, the sight of her in immeasurable pain. It breaks your heart. 
No one knows what to do. 
Mike thrashes in your arms still. He tries to escape your hold so that he can cover his body with El’s. Take away her pain somehow. But you won’t let him. You know that it hurts him to see her this way, but his panic will only drive El’s panic further.
“What is that?” Disgust litters Erica’s face as she stares at the moving creature within El’s leg. Gently you push the girl away, not wanting to crowd El too much. She needs space to breathe. 
“There’s something in her leg,” Mike sneers into your face as he fights against you again. He’s furious, he’s overwhelmed, he just wants to help. “Let go!”
Your arms tighten around the boy. He isn’t in the right state of mind. Frantic, you look to your left and start forming a plan. “Jonathan, my switchblade is in my left back pocket. Grab it.” He stares at you, unsure what to do, and you raise your voice into a yell. “Grab it.”
Jonathan jumps at the command and his hand disappears behind you. You feel him find the weapon and pull it out. He holds it in front of you, offering it, but you don’t accept it. “Go and disinfect it. There’s a gas stove where you found us. Heat up the blades so that we can–” you swallow as nausea fills you. “We–we have to cut it out of her leg.”
The moment Jonathan is gone, you turn your attention to Mike and Steve. You try to keep your voice leveled, try to contain the blinding panic that screams in your head. El needs you right now. Swallowing again, you start to speak to them. “I need you guys to talk to El. Keep her awake.”
“Right, okay.” Mike nods, and you finally release him. He hovers over El, his voice is gentle as he tries to calm her. “Hey, stay awake, okay?”
You tug Steve towards El’s legs so that he can help you move her into a better position. “Get her onto her side. Mike, put her head in your lap.”
Both boys do as they’re told. Everyone watches, and Robin tries to make light of the situation. She rambles about a girl from her soccer team who once broke her leg. How the bone had ripped clean through her skin. The story makes you shiver, and Steve sees the discomfort. “Robin, hey. You’re not helping.”
“I’m sorry.”
Jonathan returns, out of breath. “Okay. Alright, El?” He looks down at the girl. Tries to steady his breathing. “This is gonna hurt like hell, okay?”
El whimpers out that she understands, and you take hold of her hand. “Sweetheart, you need to brace yourself. I promise it will be over soon.”
“I’ll be fast, but I need you to stay real still. Here,” Jonathan hands a wooden spoon to Mike. “You’re gonna want to bite down on this, okay?”
Teeth bared, El clenches her teeth around the spoon. Her body braces for what’s about to come. Kneeling next to her, you angle your body over hers and pin her arms down with your hands. You look at Mike, ordering him to do the same. “Hold her shoulders. Don’t let her go, no matter what.”
He pales, but swallows deeply and nods. When Mike is in position, you signal to Jonathan to start cutting. “Do it.”
“Okay,” Jonathan inhales. The knife you’ve given him shakes as he holds it over El’s wound. He’s fucking terrified, but he knows it’s the only way. Exhaling, he cuts into her flesh. Blood pours from the wound and El’s screams tear from her chest. 
Everyone makes a sound of disgust and horror. Your own stomach lurches at the sight of Jonathan cutting into the leg. The image, the way El’s body convulses, the screams she releases, it’s all too much. You don’t feel yourself shaking until Steve guides your head into the nook of his shoulder, shielding you. 
“Thank you,” your breathing is shaky. You aren’t even sure if he’s heard you, but Steve nods and his hand rubs up and down your back. He’s doing whatever he can to help, being the solid surface you need to lean upon. Lending you the strength you need to hold El down and save her. 
You hear your knife glance against the ground, followed by El’s scream becoming deafening. Unable to stop yourself, you pull away from Steve to look at what’s happening. When you do, you almost gag. Jonathan’s fingers are now in El’s leg, digging underneath the flesh and muscle to find whatever the hell is in there. A horrible squelching sound fills the air. Faintly you think you can hear Will crying behind you. 
Jonathan struggles, digs deeper into the leg, but it only seems to be making everything worse. El twists and contorts beneath you, in agonizing pain. Her screams only intensify. A tear from your eye lands on her shirt, and you force yourself to hold her down despite how desperately you want to end it.
“Goddamn it!” Jonathan can’t find it. He can’t find whatever the hell is in El’s leg. It keeps moving the moment he thinks he has it. Everything is slick from blood. 
“No!” El spits out the wooden spoon, her voice raw from screaming. “Stop it!” 
You can’t stomach her pain any longer. The moment she pleads for it to stop, you move off of El and push Jonathan away from her. Nancy helps, touches his shoulder to alert him as well. The moment she has the room to, El sits herself up. “I can do it.
“Do what, El?” You ask, though you think you know anyways.
She breathes heavily. Tears flow freely down her face. She’s sitting down, one of her knees is pressed against her chest. The injured leg remains flat on the ground, her hand outstretched above it. Static, the one you always feel when El uses her powers, surrounds you. There’s a low hum, she grunts and screams, and yet her hand remains steady. You rub her back, offering her all the strength you can give her, in awe despite the poor timing of it. 
To have the strength to expel a foreign object from your body. You can’t imagine it. 
El releases one final long, harrowing scream. The lights flicker, the windows behind you rattle violently. You only just barely manage to cover Dustin and the kids from the shards of glass before they explode. At the same time, a small, writhing creature shoots from El’s leg. It stalls in the air, hovering in front of her face as she continues to scream. The creature is no bigger than the size Dart had been when Dustin first found him. The idea that it had been buried in El’s leg makes you feel ill. 
With the last of her energy, El flings the creature across the room. It lands with a sickening thud on the floor, before it starts to move. You watch in horror as it scurries away, releasing its own screech, until Hopper’s boot crashes down upon it, killing it. 
You’ve never been happier to see that cranky son of a bitch. 
Joyce stands behind him and you whimper pathetically when you see her. You miss your own mother. It’s been days since you’ve last seen her. You’re more homesick than you’ve ever been before. 
Alongside Joyce and Hopper is a man you’ve never seen before. He has glasses and a beard. As you study him, Jonathan makes a surprised sound. “Murray?”
“You know him?” 
Jonathan nods at you. “He’s the detective Nance and I visited last year.” 
“He’s insane.” Nancy says, though there’s a nostalgic smile on her face. 
Hopper steps forward, investigating the scene. Glass crunches beneath his boots. He stops in front of you and El. He looks down at you. “Always at the scene of the crime, huh?”
“Yeah,” you blow hair out of your face. “Can’t seem to ever stop myself.” Then, finally noticing his aggressively bright and floral shirt that he’s wearing, you tilt your head to the side. “Nice shirt, by the way. I like the color on you. You’ve been direly needing some color in your life.”
Dustin snorts and El manages a tired smile. Hopper rolls his eyes at you, though you can tell it’s more from fondness rather than annoyance like it usually is. You watch as his eyes drift towards Joyce, uncharacteristically shy. “Thanks, kid.”
“Anytime, old man.” 
– 
“The Mind Flayer, it built this monster in Hawkins, to stop El, to kill her and pave a way into our world.” 
You sit on the fountain’s edge. Dustin is next to you, Steve leans against you on the other side. Mike’s words surround you. 
He explains what he and the others have been dealing with while you’ve been gone. Innocent people have been getting possessed and turned into chemicalized substances. Their bodies melting together, conjoining to create a monster meant to kill El. With every detail Mike remembers, your stomach twists uncomfortably. It doesn’t sound real. It sounds like a thing from nightmares.
And somehow Billy has become the face of it. 
The last time you saw him, he had been a shell of who he used to be. He had been in pain. Obvious pain. Sweat had run down his flushed skin and his eyes had a frost in them unlike anything you had ever seen before. Instead of helping him, instead of telling anyone about this, you had abandoned Billy. 
“How big is this thing?” Hopper asks, shifting so that El can rest more comfortably against him. 
Jonathan sighs. “It’s… It’s big. Real big. Thirty feet, at least.”
“You’ve seen it?” Your eyes draw to the bruise on his forehead. The pained noise he made when you hugged him still rings in your ears. 
“We’ve had a rough night.” Nancy whispers, eyes downcast. 
“It sorta destroyed Hopper’s cabin.” Lucas looks up at the chief, a poorly feigned apologetic smile on his face. “Sorry.”
Steve interjects now. He asks questions, tries to make sure he understands. As he speaks with the group, your head falls onto his shoulder. Your head spins. Only hours ago you were dealing with Russians and national emergencies. Now, you and Steve try to wrap your heads around the idea of a giant human goo creature wreaking havoc on Hawkins.  
Which, according to Max, is still very much alive. 
But that doesn’t stop Will from trying to help. “But if we close the gate again–” 
“We cut the brain off from the body.”
“And kill it.” Lucas finishes for Max. “Theoretically.”
It sounds so simple, but you’ve been here before.
You’ve heard this conversation already; you were standing in the Byers’ dining room. Steve had been next to you, just like he is now, and Jonathan had been on your other side. The people surrounding you were the same, only now Robin and Will join. That November, the conversation had terrified you. Closing the gate. Killing the Mind Flayer and destroying its army. 
It had been the exact same conversation. And it terrifies you still, now. Only this time the fear is accompanied by an emptiness.
You’ve been here before. It hadn’t been enough. 
“How many more times are we going to kill it?” Your head remains pressed against Steve. Your eyes don’t lift from the ground. Exhaustion sags your body. “We thought we already killed the Mind Flayer. We went through hell and back to close the gate, only for it to be opened again not even a year later. By another country. I mean,” laughter crawls out of your throat. “Who’s to say that they won’t just open the gate again? They’ve already done it once–”
“Loverboy over here,” The bearded man from earlier, Murray, suddenly appears and slaps the back of Jonathan’s head. The man has a mad smile on his face, the kind that tells you he’s an insane genius. After Jonathan shoves him away, Murray stops in front of you. He looks down, a curious glint in his eyes. “He told me you were a ray of sunshine. Gotta be honest. I’m not really getting a real sunshine vibe from you.”
Steve subtly shifts your body so that he’s in front of you. His eyes are narrowed, body tense. “What’s that in your hands?”
Murray seems to now remember what he interrupted the group for. He clutches the pieces of paper in his hands, waves them in the air. “Ah. These, my perfectly coiffed haired friend, are blueprints.” 
“That’s just a poorly done drawing of squares and lines.” You squint at the papers. They’re no better than the map Mike had scribbled to navigate the tunnels last year.
“Seriously,” Murray turns back to Jonathan again. “I thought she was supposed to be the nice one.”
You open your mouth to argue, not at all liking whatever this random man is insinuating, but Hopper steps forward first. “Just start talking.”
He sighs, but agrees. Motioning everyone to follow, Murray guides the group to a nearby table so that he can lay his drawings out for everyone to see. “Okay, this is what Alexei called ‘the hub’.” Murray points to the center of the first drawing. “Now, the hub takes us to the vault room.”
“Okay, where’s the gate?” Hopper hovers over him, attentive. 
“Right here.” Murray now points to a random box, far from where you know the gate actually is. You bite your lip, unsure if you should speak up just yet. “I don’t know the scale on this, but I think it’s fairly close to the vault room. Maybe fifty feet or so.”
You snort obnoxiously loud, getting everyone’s attention. “You’re so wrong that it physically pains me.”
“I’m sorry?” Murray gives you an odd look. When Jonathan and Nancy showed up on his doorstep last year, the two of them had nothing but great things to say about you. Jonathan had waxed poetry about you while Nancy had sat at the dinner table, resentful. Now, meeting you, Murray is really struggling to understand where that all came from. 
“It’s more like five hundred feet.” Erica says. When she sees Murray’s exasperated expression, she can’t help but laugh at the old man. “What, you’re just gonna waltz in there like it’s commie Disneyland or something?” 
“And who are you?” 
“Erica Sinclair. And who are you?”
“Murray… Bauman.”
“Listen, Mr. Bunman.” You have to stifle a laugh into Steve’s shoulder. You love Erica, you really do. “I’m not trying to tell you how to do things, but I’ve been down in that shithole for twenty-four hours. And with all due respect, you do what this man tells you, you’re all gonna die.”
“I’m sorry, why is this four year old speaking to me?”
You slide off the fountain’s edge and stand. Whoever this guy is, you don’t like his snippy attitude. “She’s ten, actually, and she’s right.”
“Yeah, you bald bastard!” Lucas reprimands her, but she doubles down. “Just the facts!”
While you enjoy her quips, you gently grab Erica’s shoulders and place her behind you. There isn’t time for her to make a grown man cry. “We went through hell down there. It won’t be as easy as walking fifty feet. The place is huge.”
“They’re right.” Dustin speaks up. “You’re all gonna die, but you don’t have to. Excuse me, may I?” Even before Murray has consented, your brother is already grabbing the blueprints. He sits down and starts explaining. “See this room here? This is a storage facility. There’s a hatch in here that feeds into their underground ventilation system.”
“It’s how we accidentally got in.” You add, figuring any extra information could help.
“Wait, you accidentally broke into a secret Russian lair?” Mike tries to hide it, but you can see that he’s impressed. You know that once this is all over, he’ll grill you for details later.
“No, we thought it’d be fun to get tortured by commies on the fourth of July.” Steve points to his swollen eye. “Yes, Wheeler. It was an accident.”
“Guys!” Dustin shouts. When he has everyone’s attention again, he sighs. “Jesus. Anyways, these vents will lead you to the base of the weapon. It’s a bit of a maze down there, but between me, Y/N, and Erica, we can show you the way.” 
Hopper stares down at the three of you, unamused. “You can show us the way?”
Dustin is about to agree, but you cover his mouth with your hand. “Yes, I can show you the way. The kids can stay here, but I remember everything from when we were down there. If you want all the hero glory, then fine. Fight some Russians. But I can be your navigator.”
“No.” Hopper, Steve, Dustin, and Jonathan say at the same time. 
You roll your eyes at all of them. “Okay, I was only talking to Hopper. The rest of you,” you glare at your brother and the two teens next to him. “Aren’t a part of this conversation.”
“There isn’t a conversation to be had, kid.” Hopper scoffs at you. He doesn’t want to hear whatever you’re about to say. He won’t let you back down there again. From the state Steve is in, Hopper doesn’t even want Joyce coming with him. “You’re not going. End of discussion.”
“You don’t seriously expect me to let you walk into a death trap, right? I mean, I know we argue a lot, but you can’t be that dumb.” Hopper has started to walk away now, trying to put an end to the conversation, but you follow him anyways. “Listen to me!” He ignores you, doesn’t turn around. Instead, Hopper starts gathering bullets as he picks up a shotgun from one of the guards on the ground. Groaning, you continue to chase him. 
You don’t care how annoying you’re being. You’ll nag him until your last dying breath. If he doesn’t want you getting hurt, then he has to understand that you don’t want him getting hurt either. “Hopper, I’m serious. El…” You look at the girl, who is far behind the two of you now as she rests near the fountain. Your voice grows thick. A wave of emotions rush over you, seeing her. She’s so small. She’s still just a kid, despite the power that lies within her. “She needs you. You–you can’t get hurt.”
“And I won’t.” 
“You don’t know that,” you grab the man’s shirt, but he tries to walk anyways. You plant your feet on the ground and grit your teeth. He’s frustratingly strong. “Please, just–you’re her father. You–you can’t leave her–” You stumble over your words, try to think of how to convince him. There has to be a way, a middle ground. Isn’t he the one who taught El what compromise means? 
In your nagging midst, you overhear Dustin and the party all catch up. Talk about how they missed one another. It’s a sweet reunion, seeing them come together again after being separated for so long; your boys are together again. It feels like a lifetime ago where they were all together on Weathertop hill. Seeing them together again, it hits you. 
The walkies. Cerebro.
“What if I could still communicate with you from above?” You shout, frantic. Hopper stops walking. He still doesn’t look at you, but he indicates that you have his attention. Taking a deep breath, you don’t waste any time. “We have walkies. Dustin, all the kids. It’s how they communicate with one another. Always have. What if… what if I give you directions using them? That way, you’ll fulfill your annoying need to be a hero while I fulfill my annoying need to protect everyone.”
Your words come rushing out, messy and jumbled, but Hopper seems to understand. He’s quiet, mulls what you’ve said over and over again in his head. He inhales, closes his eyes, and then exhales agonizingly slow. When he opens his eyes to look at you, he’s resolved. “You’re really annoying, you know that?”
A relieved smile graces your face. Knowing you’ve gotten through to Hopper, you finally release his shirt. You straighten it back out, wipe some dirt off of it. It really is a good shirt, one you know was almost definitely purchased for a woman named Joyce Byers. “It adds to my charm.”
Hopper chuckles, shakes his head, before walking over to where your brother stands with the others. He fishes a walkie from his back pocket, tosses a spare one to Dustin. “Hey, heads up. Your sister came up with a shockingly genius compromise. You guys can navigate, just from someplace safe.”
Dustin sighs. “It’s not that simple.”
“The signal won’t reach.” Erica clarifies for him. 
You motion at them to explain faster. “But…”
“But,” Dustin quickly explains your idea. “We’d need something with a high enough frequency band to relay with the Russians’ radio tower. But for that to work, you need someone who has both seen their comms room and has access to a super-powered handcrafted radio–”
“Dustin,” you hit his shoulder, urging him to get to the point already. “Just tell him about Cerebro.”
“I was getting there! Look, we have one already situated at the highest point in Hawkins.” Your brother shakes his head. “If you need us to navigate, we got you. But we need a head start… and a car.”
“Hey, chief.” You stand beside Hopper now, grinning ear to ear. “Don’t you have a car?”
He stares past you, and the rage in his eyes amuses you immensely. It’s taking everything within him not to start yelling, which only causes your shit eating grin to grow. You extend your arm, hold your hand out palm-facing upwards. This is the best day of your life. “Come on, give me the car keys, Hopper.” 
Sucking his teeth, Hopper drops the car keys into your hand. “I hate you.”
Hopper stands in front of you, annoyance and irritability in his eyes as he stares at you, but you don’t care. A surge of warmth cascades through you instead. He listened. It means more to you than the man could ever know. Your arms find their way around him, surprising both you and Hopper, as you pull him into a hug. “Thank you for listening to me.”
“Yeah, well. Don’t make me regret it.” Hopper says, his voice rough. He clears his throat, allows his hand to pat your shoulder. He may not know what you’ve gone through, but he thinks he can understand the weight the history has left you. It’s the same weight that he carries every day. The guilt, the anger that follows it. He clears his throat again and pulls you off of him, keeping you at arm’s length. “Do me a favor, will you? Make sure El and the others are safe.”
You sniff, wipe away tears. You’re not sure why you’re crying. “I will, I promise. Good luck, old man.”
“Good luck, kid.” He hesitates, still holding your shoulders. His breath hitches and his eyes don’t leave yours. There’s something in them, almost a certain kindness that once reflected in your father’s eyes when you were younger. The gaze burns you at first, but you stare back at Hopper through it. After he seems to find what he’s looking for, Hopper swallows. He says what Joyce has always said about you; from his conversation with the woman back at Melvald’s. “You’re the best of them.”
More tears well in your eyes, but you wipe them away before he can tease you. Hopper releases you, shoves you in a playful manner, and you can’t help but laugh. It’s a warm moment. His words simmer on your skin. You’ve heard them before, you know what people say about you, but the words are different coming from Hopper. 
Praise doesn’t come naturally to him. Words have always plagued him; the ones he has just told you hold a weight that’s even heavier than the guilt the two of you carry within yourselves. You’ve known Jim Hopper for three years now, but as you watch him walk over to El, soft smile still on his face from his conversation with you, you finally understand him. 
Steve is waiting for you at the fountain, whispering quietly with Robin. The two of them stand off to the side, away from the others. He’s nervous, uncomfortable. He stands with his back away from Jonathan and Nancy, who are a few feet away talking to Murray. His arms are crossed over his chest and his fingers tap together in an anxious tick you’ve become familiar with. 
The moment he sees you approaching, all the tension in Steve’s body melts away. 
He grabs your hand the second you’re within reach. Pulling you into his chest, he kisses the top of your head. “Any updates, angel?”
You hum against him, allowing yourself a moment to bask in his warmth. It’s been a long day. It’ll be an even longer night. “You know Weathertop hill?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Good.” You place Hopper’s keys into Steve’s hand. “You’re driving us, then.”
Robin points at Jonathan, who sneaks glances at the three of you. “Define ‘us’. Because, no offense, he seems nice and all, but he keeps looking over at you like a lost puppy and it’s making me uncomfortable.”
“Be nice, he’s still my best friend.” Flicking her forehead, you silently scold Robin. “And it’s just going to be the three of us with Dustin and Erica. Jonathan and Nancy are taking the rest of the kids to Murray’s bunker. He’s just… He’s worried. Probably wants to make sure he says goodbye to me before we leave.”
Robin makes a confused face, reminding you that she’s new to all of this. That she hasn’t had to say goodbye to her loved ones every year with the fear of them not returning. You sigh. “It’s… Kinda a tradition, at this point. A final goodbye before all hell breaks loose.”
“How many times do you guys almost die on a weekly basis?”
Steve snorts. “Depends on the month. November seems to be our worst one, though.”
“Astounding…”
You leave Steve to deal with Robin’s amazement on his own, though you laugh as you walk away. Ever since the events of Will’s disappearance, you’ve done everything you can to not think about what you’ve all been through. However, seeing the bewildered amazement on Robin’s face the more you reveal to her, you can’t help but laugh. 
Jonathan sees you approaching him and Nancy and steps aside to make room for you. They’re still talking to Murray, although the man is more lecturing them than anything. He holds up a bunch of keys, explaining in great detail which one goes into specific locks. It’s dizzying trying to keep track of it all. 
Secretly, you’re grateful that you’re going with Steve and the others. Easier key instructions. 
“This one is for the second to last bottom lock–”
“Murray, can I cut in real quick?” You try to be polite about it, but truly you don’t care whether or not you have the man’s permission. 
He glares at you. “Aren’t you already?”
“Good point!” You grab Nancy’s and Jonathan’s arms and pull them away with a wicked smile on your face. When you’ve dragged them far enough away from Murray, you wrap your arms around them both. Jonathan sinks into the unexpected embrace. Nancy stiffens. You try to ignore it. “Get to that old man’s bunker safely, please?”
“Of course, bug.” Jonathan has wrapped an arm around you. He closes his eyes, his fingers span across your back. “Stay at Weathertop, get to safety. Maybe even get some rest while you can.”
“I’ll try, bee.” Your laugh is wet. This will never get any easier. 
Nancy shifts in your embrace, and for a moment you’re afraid she’ll pull away entirely, but instead she surprises you by wrapping an arm around you as well. Her chin is tucked against your neck, she still hasn’t melted into the embrace like Jonathan has, but she’s trying. Lips close to your ear, she whispers, “I’ll keep him safe.”
You suck in a breath. You hadn’t known how desperately you needed to hear Nancy’s reassurance, to hear her silent apology. Pulling away from them, you look at Jonathan and Nancy. “I love you. I love you both.”
Jonathan smiles, the same way he did the night you met him on the Wheeler’s porch. Nancy ducks her head down shyly, the same way she did the night she opened the door to let you into her home. 
You squeeze their hands one last time before leaving to say goodbye to the others. 
Lucas wishes you luck, Will hugs you as tight as ever, and El offers you a partial smile. She’s still recovering from whatever the monster did to her leg, so you brush some hair out of her face and kiss her head.
“Sucks you were down in hell this whole time. Could really go for a brownie right now.” Mike says, a light in his eyes as El’s head rests in his lap.
You stick your tongue out at him. “Sorry, couldn’t find a way to bake while getting chased by Russians with guns.”
“Lame.”
“Goodbye, Wheeler.”
Then you turn to Max, who has been silent this entire time. She hugs you tightly when she sees you. “He’ll be okay, right?”
Your body goes stiff. Somehow, in the midst of Hopper and the others, you had forgotten about Billy. How he’s infected. Flayed. It hasn’t escaped your notice that no one seems to want to bring the matter up, either. When it had been Will, everyone had wanted to make sure he wouldn’t die if the gate closed. 
But no one has asked the same question for Billy. 
Swallowing, you slowly reciprocate Max’s embrace. “We’ll… We’ll find a way. We always do.”
Though the words aren’t meant to be a lie, you can’t help but feel that you’re breaking an oath when you say them. 
– 
Steve hadn’t noticed what brand of car the keys belonged to at first. However, the moment his brain recognizes the iconic Cadillac logo on its keychain, he practically starts to drool. A fucking Cadillac.
It doesn’t take him long to round everyone up and drag you outside.
“I was saying goodbye to Joyce,” you grumble, struggling to keep up with Steve’s quick footsteps.
“It’s a Cadillac, Y/N!” Steve can almost feel the foam pooling around his mouth. His footsteps increase even more, his body vibrating at the knowledge that he gets to drive his dream car. His dad hadn’t wanted to buy him one, said that the BMW was more practical. Reliable. When Steve pushes the mall’s front door open and sees the beautiful, timeless car parked perfectly in front of him, he almost collapses. “Oh, man, now this…This is what I’m talkin’ about!”
“‘Toddfather’?” Robin points out the license plate and its horrible name.
You make a face, but Steve doesn’t let her ruin his moment. He’s ecstatic. This is arguably the best thing that has happened to him all day (besides maybe kissing you). For fuck’s sake, it’s a goddamn Cadillac. “Oh, screw Todd! Steve’s her daddy now.”
Steve hops into the car’s front seat like a little kid with a toy car. Meanwhile you, Robin, Dustin, and Erica retract your heads in disgust at what he’s just said. Robin looks at you, repulsed. “Did he just talk about himself in the third person?”
Erica follows up with her own creeped out question. “Did he just call himself daddy?” 
“I’m choosing to ignore him right now.” You say to both of the girls, pressing a hand to your forehead as you walk to the car. There’s so much you don’t want to unpack with what Steve has said. 
“You can’t ignore me, Y/N.” Steve leans over the center counsel and opens the passenger door for you. “We already established that I’m really annoying.” 
“Just take us to Weathertop, please.” You buckle yourself in and make sure the kids have their seatbelts on as well. When you see that Robin has found herself in the middle seat, you snicker at her. She’s squished between Dustin and Erica, her knees are pressed uncomfortably to her chest.
“Why did I get stuck in the middle?” She complains.
Steve fixes one of the mirrors before revving the engine. As he pulls out of the mall’s parking lot, he offhandedly responds, “Passenger seat is reserved for girls I’m dating.”
Everyone in the backseat gags, and you blush furiously. You and Steve haven’t had the time to talk about your relationship. Or if there even is a relationship. But he’s just referred to you as the girl he’s dating. He kissed you yesterday, or was it today?
Time has blurred together, but Steve’s hand rests on your thigh as he drives and you’re his girl. 
There will be time to talk about all of it later. You’ll make sure of it this time. 
Steve’s foot presses on the gas, speeding through Hawkins. Neither of you were given an exact time frame from Hopper, but he presses down harder on the pedal and sends the car flying. There’s music on the radio, doing its best to distract everyone, but your hands are still antsy. You’re nervous, there’s still so much left unspecified within the plan. Steve notices your fidgeting fingers and removes his hand from your thigh to play with them; he’s trying to soothe you. 
You intertwine your fingers through his and smile at him. Steve winks back at you, and you admire how lovely he looks as he drives. The moment is broken when Robin shoves her head between the two of you. “What the hell is a Cerebro?”
“It’s basically a radio tower that Dustin built for his girlfriend, Suzie.” You explain to her, voice raised to be heard over the music and wind. “She lives in Utah.”
Robin raises an eyebrow, intrigued. She leans back in her seat and pokes Dustin’s shoulder. “Suzie must be really special, huh? I mean, if you built this thing and lugged it all the way to the middle of nowhere just to talk to her.” 
Your brother preens at this, pleased someone has recognized his romantic efforts. “I mean, nobody’s scientifically perfect, but Suzie’s about as close to being perfect as any human could possibly be.”
“She sounds made up to me.” Erica snarks from the backseat. She looks over at Steve, tries to get his opinion. “She sound made up to you?”
Steve hesitates for just a fraction of a second too long, and you sigh. Dustin notices it, too. “Why are you hesitating, Steve?”
“I–I’m not!” He looks to you for help, but you only shake your head at him. All he had to do was respond promptly. This is his own fault. “I’m not hesitating! I–I think she sounds real. You know, totally, absolutely real.”
“Not really loving your uncertain tone, Steve.” You say, and Dustin nods in agreement. “Suzie is real. I mean, I’m almost positive that she is.”
Dustin does a double take at your use of the word “almost”. He’s about to say something, demand to know why you’re not certain Suzie is real, before he notices that Steve is about to miss the Weathertop turn. “Left, turn left!”
“There’s not a road here?” Steve argues, squinting his eyes in the dark to see whatever the hell the kid is seeing.
Dustin screams at him again to turn, and you only have a second to brace yourself before Steve jerks the wheel. The car’s tires screech on the asphalt as your body gets thrown forward. You scream, getting war flashbacks to when you’d been in the back of Billy’s car as Max had very recklessly driven you and Steve to the tunnels. Somehow, this is so much worse. 
The car breaks through a fence and your screaming only intensifies. “What the fuck?”
“Hendersons, where are we going?” Steve screams to you and your brother. He’s desperately trying to keep hold of the steering wheel as the car struggles against the hillside’s grass. 
“Up!” You and Dustin exclaim. One hand clutches the door, the other clutches the seat. The entire car is practically at a ninety degree angle as Steve continues to drive up the hill. It’s bumpy, your head hits the back of the seat more times than you would like, and your heart races. 
The car makes a concerning amount of strange noises the further up the hill you drive. Robin clutches her stomach. “We’re not going to make it!” 
“Yes we are!” Steve does everything he can. His foot never leaves the gas. “C’mon, baby. C’mon!” 
“Sweet talking the car won’t help!” You shriek after a particularly rough bump leaves you nauseous. The poor car strains against the giant hill. The tires, not at all made for off-roading, get caught in the grass. 
Steve hits the wheel and curses. “C’mon! Please!” He presses harder on the gas, but the car comes to a stop. The tires move uselessly against the slick mud underneath.
Ill and desperately wanting to get out of the car, you unbuckle your seatbelt. “We can walk the rest of the way, Steve.” He gives you a despaired look, pleading with you to let him continue playing with his new car, but you roll your eyes at him. You’re five seconds away from vomiting, he can deal with abandoning the car. “The Toddfather is dead. We can mourn her later.”
Steve groans but turns the car off as everyone gets out, preparing for the walk ahead. The hill is just as steep as it had been earlier this week when you were with the party. While you’re annoyed you have to walk it again, at least this time it’s night and the heat isn’t as suffocating. 
When you reach the crest of the hill, Dustin immediately runs to Cerebro. He crouches next to the radio and turns it on. “Bald Eagle, do you copy? Bald Eagle, I repeat, this is Scoops Troop, do you copy?”
Bald Eagle had been your idea. 
“Scoops Troop?” You ask your brother.
He nods, proud. “Thought of it myself.”
“Not bad, buddy.”
Murray’s voice crackles over the walkie. “Yes, I copy.”
Everyone lets out a breath of relief when you hear him. So far, the first phase of the plan seems to be working. Cerebro can reach all the way down to the lair; you can communicate with Hopper and Joyce. So far, so good.
Dustin starts to give Murray the directions he’ll need for the vents. You and Steve roam the perimeter of the hill, weary and needing something to do. While you’re far from the Russians below you, you still don’t necessarily feel like you’re out of harm’s reach. Robin stays with the kids, figuring it’s best to give the two of you some time alone. 
You stare out into the view of Hawkins from so high above. Weathertop has always been your favorite spot in the small town. Your first summer in Hawkins, Jonathan had introduced you to the hill; you used to spend all your time up here with him. You’d spend hours running up and down the length of it, giggling and sunkissed. If you stand still enough, you can still hear the laughter in the breeze. You miss Jonathan and being kids with him. 
“I haven’t been up here in years.” Steve stands next to you, voice soft. He stares out into the field as well, admires its beauty the way you are, though really he just wants the excuse to look at you. “Forgot how peaceful it was.”
“I love it here,” you tell him. “Late in the summer, dandelions appear. They scatter the entire hilltop. I like running through them.”
“Well, when they start to bloom,” Steve wraps his arms around your waist, pulls you back into his chest. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, lingers. He hasn’t held you in so long, his body aches with the weight of yours against it. “We can run through them together.”
You smile into the embrace, lean into the kiss, tremble into the words. He will always make you weak. It’s an exhilarating feeling, knowing someone can dismantle every bone in your body with less than six words. “I think I’d like that–”
From the corner of your eye, you see lights flickering in the distance. They catch your attention, standing out against the black backdrop of the night sky. You shrug Steve off, feeling a tug in your chest to walk closer to the hill’s edge. You need to figure out what you’re seeing. With every step you take, the more your vision focuses in on the lights, the more dread fills your body.
It’s the mall. The lights are coming from the mall. 
You freeze. 
The lights are going haywire, flickering wildly. It’s supposed to be deserted. Jonathan and the others were supposed to have left already, but still your stomach sinks. Something isn’t right. 
Steve stumbles after you, confused as to why you pulled away, but when he sees the mall as well, he stills. “What the…?”
“They left. They said they would be gone by now.” You try to calm yourself down, try to focus on the reasoning. The mall is empty. It’s supposed to be empty. Jonathan promised you he would make it to Murray’s safely. He wouldn’t lie, he would never lie to you. 
Robin, Dustin, and Erica come up behind you and Steve. You all stand there at the crest. No one moves, transfixed by what they see. The lights continue to flicker, miles below, impossibly too far away from help.
Someone has to help.
Your feet move, twisting your body to run back to the radio. You need answers. You need to know what the hell is going on, if everyone is safe, and Dustin is right behind you. He falls to the grass in front of the radio and frantically brings it to his lips. “Griswold Family, this is Scoops Troop. Do you copy? Over!”
He repeats the call over and over, but no one responds. With each passing moment of silence, your panic turns into blind fear. “I repeat, do you copy–” A sudden, horrifyingly familiar screech, one that has haunted your nightmares for years now, rips through the radio’s speaker. It’s loud and gruesome and sends ice into your body. Your brother’s concern rivals your own. “Griswold Family, please confirm your safety. Are you enroute to Bald Eagle’s nest?”
Dustin is screaming into the radio at this point, demanding answers, but there’s only snarling on the other side. Your breathing quickens, the edges of your vision blur. Sweat trickles down your neck. You can’t breathe. Jonathan is still at the mall. Mike and Will. Nancy, Max and Lucas. 
El.
The Mind Flayer has them. 
Steve tries to grab your hand, but you’re blind to it all. In raw desperation, you tear the radio out of Dustin’s hands and bring it to your own lips. “Jonathan! Nancy! Mike, anyone.”
Your pleads fill the void of a response in the night air. Steve sits next to you, all he can do is watch as your pleading turns into begging. Your voice cracks, the words scratch your throat. Seeing your white-knuckled grip on the radio, Steve can’t take it anymore. 
“C’mon,” he takes your hand and pulls you up. Numb with fear, your body is limp. You try to fight him, you don’t know why he’s pulling you away from the radio when your friends need help, but Steve has made up his mind. He takes the device out of your hands and makes you look at him. “They need our help.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do!”
“Y/N, look at me.” Steve motions to the car, and finally you understand. “We’re going.”
Relief threatens to make your knees weak. Too wired from the debilitating combination of fear and helplessness, all you can do is nod at Steve and allow him to guide you down the hill. Dustin and Erica see that you’re leaving and try to stop you. “Where are you going?”
“To get them the hell outta there!” Steve calls over his shoulder, fumbling through his pocket to retrieve the keys. “Stay here, contact the others!”
Dustin calls out your name, anxious. He doesn’t want you to leave, and you hate that you have to leave him. But right now, he and Erica are as far from danger as physically possible. Weathertop hill is miles away from Starcourt. Right now, Jonathan needs you, and so do the others. Breaking out of Steve’s grasp, you run back to your brother and kiss his forehead. “I’ll be back, I promise.”
You run back to the car where Steve awaits, and Robin is quick to follow. She runs after the two of you and catches the walkie that Dustin tosses her. “Stay in touch,” he orders the three of you, still entirely against the whole thing. 
“We will!” You shout back at him, already crawling into the car. “Stay safe, don’t do anything stupid, and stay here.”
The backdoor closes, Robin’s seatbelt clicks into place, then the Cadillac’s engine roars to life.
Your hands won't stop shaking as Steve drives. Nothing he says can reassure you. The car hasn’t gone below seventy miles an hour despite the narrow road, and still it doesn’t feel like it will be enough. 
“I’m sure they’re okay.” Steve tries again to sound convincing, like his hands also don’t shake as he grips the steering wheel. “I mean, they have El. She’s a superhero.”
“Total superhero.” Robin unhelpfully chimes in. Her own nervousness is on display as she twists her fingers together. 
You draw your knees into your chest, trying desperately to make yourself smaller. You’re terrified for your friends, you should’ve never split up. The party always does better when it’s together. Forcing air into your lungs, you stare out the windshield. “How much farther?”
“A minute, maybe even less.” Steve promises, pressing down even harder on the gas pedal. The engine’s roar deafens your ears, and you welcome the distraction. 
In the distance you see Starcourt’s blinding neon lights. They grow bigger and bigger with every passing second, and you release the breath you had been holding when you see that you’re close. The moment of relief is short lived, however, when you hear gunshots pierce through the night. The sound rings in your eyes and the sight of Nancy firing the gun chokes you. 
“There!” You point towards where she stands and Steve changes the direction of the car. The tires screech and your body thuds against the door but you don’t care. All you can focus on is Nancy standing in front of Jonathan’s car, unmoving as she fires bullet after bullet. Something seems to be wrong with his car, you can hear the engine fail each time he turns the key.
You squint your eyes. At first, you can’t see what Nancy is firing at, but within seconds you see the third car barreling straight towards her at a terrifying speed. In the driver’s seat is Billy. “Steve!”
“I see him!” He floors it. 
The impact knocks all the air out of your body. It all happens so fast. Glass shatters. Metal hits metal. Your body gets thrown, your head roughly hits Steve’s shoulder as the car spins out. Your eyes squeeze shut at the momentum. You can’t remember if you scream. 
“Are you guys okay?” Steve asks, panting, as soon as he car comes to a stop. His head is spinning yet the first thing he does is look to see if you’re hurt. There’s some glass in your hair, but for the most part there isn’t a scratch on you, which he’s thankful for. 
“Ask me tomorrow?” Robin stares blankly ahead, still trying to process what’s just happened. 
It takes a few moments for you to come to. Your ears are ringing. Your neck aches from being thrown so suddenly to the left. “Let’s never do that again.”
“Agreed…” Robin swallows, but quickly her mouth goes dry. “Oh, shit.”
You follow her line of sight and nearly throw up. The Mind Flayer crawls over the mall and releases a thundering screech, and the size of it alone makes you want to cry. It’s huge, bigger than anything you’ve ever seen before. 
A car honks behind you, breaking you from your terror. Your head whips around, finding Nancy in the passenger seat of Jonathan’s car. “Get in!”
Quickly the three of you scramble out of the wrecked car. There isn’t room in any of the passenger seats, so you yank the trunk door open and scream at Robin and Steve to crawl in. It’s a tight fit, you have to press your back against Steve’s chest, but it’ll have to do. 
As soon as the trunk is closed, Jonathan steps on the gas. You’re thrown further into Steve’s chest and Robin, who sits in front of you, lets out a quiet yelp when she sees the Mind Flayer chasing after the car, not far behind. Seeing this as well, Jonathan takes a rough turn and everyone in the car tries to brace for the rest of the ride. 
“Are you okay, bug?” Jonathan shouts over his shoulder, eyes still on the road.
“Fine and dandy,” you pick a piece of glass out of your hair. Steve helps, carefully combing through your hair as well. The Mind Flayer screams, tries to lunge at the car, and your heart skips a beat. You try to distract yourself. “I crash cars every day. How about you guys, what brought y’all out here tonight?”
“Billy.” Everyone in the car says in unison.
You wince. “It’s always him, isn’t it?”
No one answers. Your quips don’t land. Robin hasn’t looked away from the Mind Flayer yet, Steve doesn’t want to look at it. Jonathan stares at the road ahead of him and Nancy flinches every time the Mind Flayer’s body thuds against the earth. The rest of the kids are silent, the echoes of its footfalls pounding against their eardrums. 
It’s grim in the car. Really fucking grim. 
“Dusty-bun, you copy?” A girl’s voice comes through over the radio. It’s not a voice you recognize; never in your life have you heard anyone besides your own mother refer to your brother as Dusty-bun.
Steve’s bewildered expression matches your own. Then Dustin’s voice crackles through the radio, and your bewilderment turns into relief. At least your brother is far away from whatever the hell is chasing you right now. “I copy, Suzie-poo. It sounds much better now, thanks.” 
“Suzie,” Steve and Robin breathe out at the same time. You smile at them, smug. They had their doubts, but you were almost certain she had been real. Serves them right. 
The nickname Dustin has for his girlfriend, however, is awful. “‘Suzie-poo’? That’s the best nickname he could’ve come up with?”
“I like bee, better.” Jonathan agrees.
Steve scoffs. “Honey has a nicer ring to it.”
“Both of you shut up!” You don’t have time for their weird ‘my horse is bigger than yours’ competition. Dustin’s started speaking over the radio again and you’re trying to listen in case it’s important. He’s asking Suzie whether she knows what Planck’s constant is, and you have no idea how any of this is relevant to the situation at hand. 
“Okay, so I know it starts with two sixes, and then a…” Dustin’s voice trails off. Apparently this Planck thing is a number, one he can’t seem to remember. “W-What is it?”
“Okay, let me just be clear on this.” The tone of Suzie’s voice makes you pity your brother. It’s an angry tone, annoyed and fed up. Whatever she’s about to say, it won’t be pretty. “I haven’t heard from you in a week, and now you want a mathematical equation that you should know so you can… save the world?”
You whistle, commending the girl’s sense of self worth. “She’s got a point.” 
Dustin pleads with her, promising that he’ll make it up to Suzie as soon as he can. You feel a bit bad for him, honestly. He really had been trying to contact her ever since he got home from camp. How was he supposed to know his week would end up being dominated by Russians?
“You can make it up to me now.” Suzie’s voice lowers a frightening octave. You have no idea what she’s about to say, and a large part of you wants to throw the radio out the window before you’re forced to find out. 
“What?” Dustin sounds frightened as well, which doesn’t make you feel any better. 
“I want to hear it.”
Horror fills you. It’s worse. So much worse than you ever could’ve imagined. You know exactly what Suzie wants from Dustin. “Oh, no… He told her.”
“Told her what?” Steve asks you, confused by this entire ordeal. Dustin and Suzie argue in the background. She’s insistent and your brother tries his best to convince her otherwise. 
Jonathan’s eyes meet Steve’s in the rearview mirror, mischief in them. “Theater camp.”
“Jonathan Byers, I will hurt you!” You hiss at him, utterly mortified. Sometimes you despise the fact that he’s your closest friend. He knows far too much about you. 
Steve has so many questions, but he forgets all of them when Dustin starts to sing. “Turn around, look at what you see.”
His voice is clear and beautiful, a testament to the countless hours the two of you were forced to endure in vocal lessons. When you were younger and still living in Virginia, your mother made you and your brother attend a musical theater camp every summer. She loved having you guys perform little shows for her around the house. Said your voices were like angels to listen to. 
The day you and Dustin moved to Hawkins, you both swore to never tell anyone about the camp. The secret would die with you. 
Jonathan only knows about it because your mom had him video tape Christmas carols a few years ago (like the traitor that he is). It had taken several batches of cookies, numerous pleas, and a handful of threats to ensure he wouldn’t tell anyone what he saw. 
“In her face, the mirror of your dreams.” Dustin’s melodic voice floats through the car. The song had been one the two of you sang frequently at camp, its verses simple yet fun to sing together. 
Steve and Robin share a look of disbelief. They’ve completely forgotten about the Mind Flayer still chasing after the car. Suzie, a surprisingly good singer as well, now joins Dustin. They sing together, in a sweet, childish way. You can’t help but sing along, harmonizing with them. 
Everyone in the car looks at you as if you’re insane, but you’re too tired and exhausted to care. You’ve had the weirdest two days of your goddamn life. Sue you for singing along. It’s a good song. 
That, or maybe you’re just delirious from dehydration.
After a minute or so, the song comes to a close, and you’re almost saddened by that. You’ve missed singing with your brother. You make a mental note to bug him about it later. “Planck’s constant is 6.62607004.”
Dustin laughs into the radio, happy that Suzie finally revealed the number. “You just saved the world!”
“Gosh, I miss you, Dusty-bun.”
The two continue to go back and forth with their baby talk, which you cringe at. It’s disgusting to overhear, although you guess you understand now why Dustin hates being around you and Steve. You’ll apologize to him later. 
Dustin’s voice cuts off unexpectedly, which you assume is Erica’s doing. You’ll also thank her later. The car goes quiet again. No one knows what to follow Dustin’s impromptu performance with. 
“So, theater camp, huh?” Steve finally breaks the silence, squeezing you gently in his arms as he teases. 
“Tell anyone and I swear I’ll–” The Mind Flayer suddenly turns around, catching your attention. It runs away, back towards the mall. It doesn’t make any sense. Everyone is here, in the car. It only wants El. Unease twists your stomach. You lean forward and look at who is in the car. When you see Will and Lucas in the seat in front of you, you panic. “Where are the others?”
You’re practically crawling over the seat to try and get to Jonathan and Nancy. “Where’s Max and El? Where the hell is Mike?”
Nancy tries to distance herself from your anger. “We got separated, but they’re–they’re fine. We had to guide the Mind Flayer away from the mall–”
“So you left them?”
“We didn’t really have much of a choice, Y/N!” Nancy screams back at you now, insulted that you truly believe she would ever leave her brother behind willingly. She wouldn’t do that. She knows that you know this. 
“It’s going back for them! It fucking turned around, can’t you see that? We need to follow it, now!” 
“Y/N–”
“Turn. Around.”
“Steve, sit Y/N back down!” Jonathan’s yell cuts in between you and Nancy. You’re about to start spewing curses at him, but Steve’s arms are strong and force you back into his lap. You’re livid. “Hold on!” 
Jonathan knows you’re right. He tightens his hold on the steering wheel and stomps on the brakes. The car spins, he twists the wheel, controls it as best as he can, before he steadies the vehicle and accelerates back towards the mall. 
– 
When you get to the mall, Lucas announces that he has a plan. 
“Fireworks have an insane amount of gunpowder in them.” He explains to the group, waving around a handful of fireworks he left in the trunk. You’re all carrying some as you run through the mall’s parking lot. “If we tie them together, we can mimic the damage of dynamite.”
“Think it’ll be enough to kill the Mind Flayer?” Nancy asks, hesitant.
“If we throw them from above, yeah!”
You kiss Lucas’ cheek, only barely managing not to trip over your feet as you run. “I think you’re a genius, Sinclair.”
Inside the mall, everyone quickly sets the fireworks up. Faintly you can hear the Mind Flayer lurking somewhere, its roars echoing throughout the building, but it hasn’t found you guys yet. Lighters get passed around, fireworks get messily taped together, groups are divided in an attempt to cover the most ground. Jonathan with Nancy. Will with Lucas. You and Steve with Robin.
You’re taping together the last of your fireworks when you look down over the railing. You almost drop the fireworks in your hand when you see Billy hovering over El. He’s so much bigger than she is. She’s hardly even visible beneath him. Your stomach churns. “He’s here.”
Thuds shake the ground. The Mind Flayer descends from the rooftop and crawls over to where Billy has placed El. Its mouth opens, preparing for the kill, and Lucas throws the first firework. “Flay this, you ugly piece of shit!”
Bursts of light collide into the monster. It hisses, turns to face the direction the firework was thrown, and Lucas throws another into its mouth. 
Smoke begins to fill the air. The whistle of the rockets sting your ears. The light blinds you. It’s loud and messy and fireworks rain down upon the monster. Everyone throws the bundles they have, and yet still you hesitate. Billy’s eyes flash through your mind. How the red in them overtook the icy blue. The sweat that poured from his face. The cruelty that seeped through his skin. 
It’s horrible what’s happened to him. He didn’t deserve to become a pawn in this maddening game. 
But someone has to end it. You breathe in, relax your body, and bring your lighter to the first firework. Its heat licks at your skin as you release it into the air. You hit the side of its body, sending the Mind Flayer stumbling back. 
“Hey, asshole. Over here!” Steve throws a firework and its blasts almost scorches the two of you. It’s dangerous, stray fireworks threaten to crash into everyone, but the plan seems to be working. WIth every hit the Mind Flayer takes, the more he weakens. 
Your thumb burns as you light fireworks over and over again. The motion is repetitive, just enough to keep the fear in you at bay. It’s deafening within the mall. It’s exhilarating. It’s dizzying. Reds, blues, yellows, greens all light up the sky. 
Distantly, through the haze of smoke, you watch as the fireworks affect Billy as well. He cowers each time the Mind Flayer gets hit, but it also seems to enrage him as well. He grabs El’s wounded leg and drags her closer to the monster.
Helplessly you wish you were down there with El, helping her. However, all you can do is continue throwing fireworks in a crazed attempt to save the ones you love. You scream with every throw, exerting all your strength to throw them as far as you physically can. But you’re quickly running out of ammunition. 
“Dustin, we’re out of time!” Steve screams into the walkie, breath heaving with soot on his face. 
Your brother screams back, pleading with Hopper to close the gate. No one answers him, and you hold back exhausted sobs as you throw the remaining fireworks. They won’t be enough. Someone has to close the gate, sever any connection the Upside Down has to your world. It’s the only way any of you are making it out alive. 
Yet it remains open, and Billy has now crawled back on top of El. 
She seems to be saying something to him, but in the cloud of smoke and explosions you can’t be sure. Robin helps you light the last firework, Steve aims it, and you’re numb to it all. He throws it, it explodes into a shower of purple. Its ashes scatter around Billy, singes his back, and you see now that he’s stopped moving. 
“That was the last one!” Robin shouts over the screams of the fireworks. Steve runs a hand through hair and curses. There isn’t anything else the three of you can do.
You run to the railing and look around, feverish to find any way to help. Jonathan catches your eye from across the plaza. He looks just as distraught as you are. Your palm hits against the metal of the railing in frustration. There has to be something. Then you see Max and Mike below, standing on the outskirts of where Billy and El are, all alone. 
“I’m going down!” You scream to Robin and Steve. You have to get down there. Someone has to be with them. They’re too close to the fire and explosions and monsters. 
“Y/N, wait–” Steve tries to stop you, but you plead with him. 
“Steve, I need you to trust me.” There’s a raw, overwhelming feeling within you that something bad is about to happen. You can’t shake it, the feeling of loss being inevitable frightens you. For three years now you’ve saved everyone, done everything right. For three years, you’ve gotten lucky. You don’t know how to explain all of this to Steve, the fear that has followed you ever since you first intercepted the Russian code. “Please.”
Maybe it’s the way you say it. Maybe it’s the tears that stream down your face as you look at him. Whatever the reason may be, Steve reluctantly lets go of you. Endlessly thankful for him, your hands cradle his face as you kiss him. He makes a cute, surprised noise, and you wish more than anything that you can bask in the warmth of his lips, but you can’t. 
You force yourself to pull away. “I’ll be back, take care of the others.”
And then you’re gone. 
Footsteps echoing against the walls of the mall, you run down the stairs and straight towards Max and Mike. They hear you approach and suddenly they’re both in your arms. They hold onto you tightly, none of you can tear your eyes away from the scene in front of you. Billy slowly stands up and away from El. His movements are labored as he walks in front of the Mind Flayer, blocking its path to her. 
They stand, face to face, unmoving. Predator against prey. Your heart pounds in your throat as you watch, too scared to move. In an almost imperceptible velocity, the Mind Flayer extends its claws. 
Billy raises his arms, stopping the monster from piercing through El, protecting her. “No!” A guttural, animalistic scream tears apart his vocal chords. He screams, over and over again, as the Mind Flayer struggles against him. 
Max freezes in your arms, you feel her choke on her gasp. 
Everything happens slowly after that. 
The first claw that penetrates Billy’s side. 
The second one that cuts through his other side. 
Then the third one, the fourth and the fifth and the sixth. They pierce through his skin, sink into the flesh. His body goes limp as he’s suspended into the air. The Mind Flayer hisses down at him, its teeth bared, and Billy, who has never been afraid, screams in the face of death as the monster fatally punctures his chest. 
Everything stops.
“Billy!” You will never forget the pain in Max’s scream. It will become yet another sound that haunts your nightmares. 
As you stand there with a paralyzed Max in your arms, the Mind Flayer drops Billy’s body onto the ground. He lands with a sickening thud. The Mind Flayer’s body crashes into the walls, it convulses, spasms, leaving destruction in its wake. Then, all together, it stills and falls to the ground.
The gate has been closed. 
Mike tears himself from your arms and runs over to El. He pulls her into a hug and she begins to sob. You and Max walk numbly over to them, neither of your eyes leave Billy’s bleeding body. He shudders weakly where he lays, a pool of blood encasing his body. 
“Billy?” Max knees next to him. She’s crying, she doesn’t know what to do. There’s so much blood. “Billy, get up. Please, Billy. Get up, please.”
You kneel next to her, at her side through it all. 
Blood pours from Billy’s mouth. He coughs and the wet sound only makes Max cry harder. He looks up at you, his eyes are finally blue again. “Talking to you… sweetheart.”
But if you need anyone to talk to, about anything, come find me, okay?
Those had been your last words to him. 
“Billy…” He had tried to find you. He had been lost and scared and alone. He didn’t know what had been happening to him, why his anger became venom. A sob is wrenched from your mouth. He had been all alone, and he had tried to find you.
Billy coughs again, more blood leaks from his wounds. With the last of his strength, he turns his head to Max. “I’m sorry…” His chest heaves in pain, he labors two final breaths, before his chest falls entirely. It doesn’t rise again. 
Max shakes his shoulders, uncaring for the wounds there. She shakes him, begs and pleads with him to wake up, but his body remains lifeless. She lets out one final, anguished sob. “Billy.” 
She buries her face in your chest and sobs. You hold her, El joins. The girl tries to soothe Max, she tries to keep you together, but you break as well. 
You cry for the boy Billy had once been. Max had told you stories from before. How he would drive her to the skate park, scare off any older boy who tried to taunt her. She told you about how he used to love surfing in California, before his mom had left them and his dad became violent. 
Max told you about how kind Billy had once been, she knows he used to be kind. How she could see it in him still, hiding the bruises from his father to not scare her. To make her feel safe in their own home even if he intimidated her as well; it was the violence in him that was created by a monster far more vile than the Mind Flayer. 
You cry for Max, too young to lose such a complicated loved one. You know the pain better than anyone else. How it hurts to grieve them, how it makes you feel pathetic to miss someone who has only hurt you, but the tenderness of knowing them tethers you to it all. Billy had been her brother. There is no greater tether than that. 
You cry because you loved and have lost. You will blame yourself for having not said anything about Billy’s off behavior. You had seen the first signs of what the Mind Flayer did to him. He had been stranded on the side of the road, bloodied and bruised, blue eyes darker than normal, and you had done nothing except tell him to come find you. 
And then you had left him. 
Billy Hargrove died alone.
You and Max will share the burden of this guilt. 
– 
Jonathan finds you first, then Steve. You’re on the floor, kneeling with Max in your arms, two broken pieces finding solace in the other. Billy’s body lies next to you, neither you nor Max can bear to look at it. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” they’re the only words you can say to the girl. 
Max clutches your arms around her and her tears soak your shirt. El and Steve try to coax her out of your arms, but she doesn’t move. She refuses to let go of you, though she allows Jonathan to drape his arms over you and hold you as your own sobs echo within the mall. 
Nancy and the others join. They leave a wide berth around the dead body before them. Nancy sees that you’re in no condition to guide, so she takes over for you. She instructs Steve and Lucas to take Max from your arms so that they can stand the two of you up. The fire from the wreckage is quickly spreading and you’ll need to evacuate soon.
“It’s okay, bug. You’re okay.” Jonathan whispers in your ear, one hand delicate on your arm. Steve’s hands rest upon your other arm, and together the two of them are able to get you onto your feet. 
Your body shakes, grief sits heavily upon your chest. Steve’s eyes never leave your weak frame. 
It’s all a blur after that. 
Firefighters break through the mall and evacuate the building. Nancy and Jonathan do all the talking. Someone, you think it’s Steve, carefully guides you through the maze of burning rubble and bodies. It’s raining outside and the soft thunder almost drowns out the drone of the helicopters that swarm the building. 
There are ambulances amongst the military trucks and you’re shoved into one by a concerned medic. The woman explains to you that you’re in shock, that your body is in a state of perpetual flight. She allows Steve to sit and stay with you only after she’s finished patching up his split lip and bruised eye. 
“It’s going to take some time to heal,” the medic explains to you. She’s soft spoken, maternal, and in your numb state she reminds you of your mother. “You kids went through a lot tonight.”
Time. 
It always goes back to time. 
Steve rubs your back and kisses the top of your head every few minutes. You rest your head against his shoulder, body pressed against his, a blanket draped around both of your shoulders’. Neither of you say anything. His hand on your back is warm, it unthaws the ice that the shock has left behind. His touch grounds you, keeps you afloat. 
A car pulls up in the distance and its doors slam. Your eyes drift up, finding Joyce’s as she stumbles through the crowd of armed soldiers and firefighters. She stumbles around, lost in some haze that clouds her once shining face. Joyce looks around in concern, trying to find her sons, and somehow you know, even before her face crumbles when she sees you, that something terrible has happened.
Her eyes meet yours. 
Hopper isn’t with her.
Will rushes towards his mother and almost knocks her down with how hard he hugs her. Joyce clings onto him and breaks into heartwrenching, bone crushing, sobs. You can hear her from where you sit with Steve, you can feel the weight of her loss like thickened water in your lungs. 
In the other ambulance next to you, El, who had been resting in Mike’s lap, stands up when she sees Joyce. She walks towards the woman as she embraces her son. Though El faces away from you, standing alone in the middle of the parking lot, the way her shoulders shake as she begins to fall apart indicates the remnants of her childhood have died tonight.
“Hopper’s dead.” They’re the first words you’ve spoken all night. Your voice is hoarse from disuse and the words echo, taunting you. 
Steve doesn’t say anything, only a heavy sigh leaves his body. 
There were three deaths tonight. Billy, Hopper, and El’s childhood. One for every year you got lucky. The fear that had been creeping through the back of your mind finally presents itself to you. It manifests in the humid July air and it laughs at you. Saving Will, closing the gate, destroying the Mind Flayer. They were debts needed to be fulfilled, and they were paid for tonight.
You see Max and Robin sitting on a stretcher across from you. Max also hasn’t said anything all night, lost in her own grief and remorse. Joyce still sobs in Will’s arms. El grieves alone, mourning the closest thing she’s ever had to a father. 
You see Jonathan and Nancy whispering quietly to one another in another ambulance. They share a blanket like you do with Steve, but Nancy’s eyes are sunken in and Jonathan’s face is pale. Lucas and Mike sit together, too exhausted to say anything. 
You’re all bleeding or burned or bruised and you’re tired. 
“Sometimes…” Your voice cracks, tears threaten to silence you, and you force yourself to breathe in. Force yourself to focus, to get the words out. They’re important, somehow, even if you don’t know why. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve used up all my luck.”
Steve draws small circles into your ribcage. His fingers catch on the raised skin, the scar from when you saved his life last year. “Luck?”
“When Will went missing… It was pure luck that I found him. Brought him back home.” You weren’t supposed to have been with the kids when they found El. You were lucky that night, it was luck that threw you into the middle of it all. “It was luck that saved Will last year, too. Those tunnels…” Your body shivers at the memory. It had been so cold down there, the smell of the damp earth is a scent you will never forget. “And now I–”
Your words catch in your throat. Steve’s body presses against yours, he waits for you, patient. When your voice returns, you try again. “And now I… I’m not sure how I feel.”
“Why’s that, angel?” Steve listens, he tries to understand. “I mean, the Mind Flayer is gone. We won.”
You saved Hawkins. You saved El. You know this, and it should be enough, but it isn’t. “All the deaths that took place tonight stain everything.”
El’s father is dead. Joyce had come so close to loving again. Max no longer has someone to call a brother. Billy, who endured so much hurt when he was a child, never got the chance to experience kindness when he grew up. 
Billy never got the chance to become good, not like you did. You were lucky to have even become kind again in the first place. It had taken years to turn the hurt from your childhood into empathy. You had a mother who called you her sweet girl even when you screamed horrible insults at her. You had a brother who held your hand through the anger that your father left behind. You had a best friend who taught you that not everyone leaves. There had been people who loved you, who were gentle, who showed you that anger can be turned into something soft. 
But all Billy ever knew in his life was violence and cruelty. It isn’t fair. 
“My entire life I’ve been lucky,” your chest constricts as you confess everything to Steve. All your fear, the doubt, the insecurity. “Now it–it feels like I’ve used up all my luck.” Your fingers find Steve’s, a mind of their own as your body seeks the solace only he can bring. He doesn’t know that he’s the reason you believe you’ve had more luck than anyone else in their life. “I… I was lucky to have met you, to become your friend, someone you trust. How could I possibly have any luck left over after everything we’ve been through together?”
Everything burns in Steve. He understands what you’re trying to say, he does, but he doesn’t agree. Steve hooks the pad of his fingertip underneath your chin and coaxes your head up, he wants you to look at him as he speaks. He needs you to hear him. To understand. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong.”
You wipe your eyes, uncomfortable under Steve’s open and earnest gaze. “I’m wrong?”
He hums, strokes a finger from the dip of your cheek up to the crest of your brow. He admires you, memorizes the skin beneath his. “You’ve taught me a lot of things, but you’re wrong about that luck theory of yours. See, I have my own theory that you can never run out of luck if you love, and you taught me that to love and be loved is the luckiest thing a person can give and receive.”
Steve remembers the first day he ever saw you. He’d been thirteen, you had been twelve. He remembers how small you looked to him, yet lovely nonetheless, even back then. You had always been so lovely to Steve, kind, delicate, admirable. 
Your eyes stare into Steve’s and he remembers the first day he spoke to you. The squeal of your bike tires as you almost crashed into his car. The way the setting sun cast you in a golden glow in the ditch you landed in as Steve offered you his hand. How, the moment you laughed at what he said, he felt breathless. 
You smile at Steve now, the same smile all those years ago, the smile he saw when he was thirteen and believed in knights and dragons. Now, at eighteen, you smile at Steve and he believes in fates that attach people to one another and mold them into one being. 
“And I’m lucky enough to be able to love you, angel.” 
Steve’s words cut through you. They’re the good that remind you of the light of the sun that follows the dark of the night. It’s almost like an awakening, a slow remembering, how can someone run out of luck if they love with everything within them?
You see Mike now consoling El. She’s in pain, but Mike bears the hurt with her. You see Jonathan and Nancy sleep soundly against each other, safe in the other’s arms. Lucas holds Max’s hand as Robin cracks a joke that gets the young girl to laugh. Will strokes his fingers through his mother’s hair, offering her love that only a son can. 
Even while there is so much grief and pain within this world, the love that follows overwhelms it.
Steve stares down at you, eyes soft with contentedness. There isn’t a pressure behind them, he doesn’t need you to say anything to him. He’s simply happy to have you in his arms, to have you with him now, to remind him of how lucky he is, and you’re so full of love for him. 
“I’m lucky enough to be able to love you, too, sweet honey.”
Steve Harrington smiles the boyish smile that you fell for long before you knew what love even was, and he kisses you. He breathes you in, he has you right where he wants you. 
You finally, finally, have come home. 
– 
Time passes slowly afterwards; you take it one day at a time. 
After the mall burns down, your job is practically all but saved. It’s a small, bittersweet thing. Mrs. Waters had told you the news with her own bittersweet smile, mourning her dear friend Mrs. Driscoll who died in the fire. She will never know the truth, that the woman had become part of an army created by a monster. 
“But at least Doris would be happy that I still have my store,” the woman said as she stacked books with you at the counter. It had only taken you two days before finding yourself falling back into old habits. Your mother had wanted you to stay home for the rest of the summer, but Bookstrordinary has always been a second home to you, and you couldn’t bear the silence in the house. Mrs. Waters sighed sadly, looking down. “I miss her.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Waters.” You squeezed her hand, mourned with her.
Hopper’s funeral took place a week after Starcourt burned down. The entire town showed up, something that you know the old man would’ve hated, and he was crowned Hawkins’ hero. You spent the ceremony in the very back, holding El’s hand, so that the two of you wouldn’t be seen.
Billy’s funeral was a few days after Hopper’s. Max sat alone at the front of the church, Billy’s father had been too drunk to attend and her mother couldn’t get the time off of work. After the ceremony, the girl silently followed you into your car and spent the rest of the day at Bookstrordinary with you. She hadn’t wanted to go home to an empty house, and you understood the feeling. 
Max spends most of her summer with you at the store after that. Some days she helps restock the shelves, singing along to your set of tapes, bright and cheery. But some days she’s quiet, sits in a corner and pretends to read whatever you hand her. El stops by the store sometimes, too. You read comics to her, bake her the oatmeal raisin cookies she loves so much, and gossip about Mike and Lucas if Max is having one of her good days. 
During the first week you bake Joyce’s favorite muffins, the second week you bake her brownies. You offer her a shoulder to cry on every time you stop by the Byers home, you reminisce over Hopper and his disdain for you; she appreciates everything you do. 
Steve spends every single day with you, it doesn’t matter where you are. Without a job, he follows you everywhere. Whether you’re at work, at home, even at Jonathan’s or Nancy’s, he’s always able to find you with Robin right behind him. Nancy thinks the newfound trio is bizarre, but Jonathan can’t help but laugh whenever he sees Robin talking your ear off while Steve follows you around like a moth to a flame.
Together, you all try to heal.
Two weeks pass and you’re woken up by the ringing of your phone. 
“Hello?” Annoyance seeps through your greeting. You’ve only just managed to fall asleep, the nightmares at bay for once. 
“Come outside, angel.”
His voice wakes you up, the annoyance now replaced with confusion. “Steve?”
“Wear something warm, okay?”
“What–?” He hangs up, the line disconnects, and you’re completely taken aback by the phone call. You didn’t make any plans with Steve tonight, at least not any that you can recall. He had spent the day with you at work, ate dinner with you and your family, before watching a movie with Dustin and going home. 
You’re not entirely sure why he’s called you at nearly two in the morning to come outside, but you listen anyways. On your desk chair lays the cardigan Steve bought you for Christmas, his initials stitched into the sleeve. Sliding it over your shoulders, you quickly put it on before climbing through your window.
Steve’s car is parked two houses from yours, headlights off. There’s music faintly playing that can be heard through the window, and a familiar melody has you running to get inside. “The Beatles?”
They were the band that you and your dad used to listen to. His fingers would strum their songs on his guitar as the two of you sat side by side on the front porch of your childhood home. He would hum the words to you. Told you that you should know about real music. 
When your dad left, he took the music with him.
Jonathan had tried to get you into his favorite artists. The Smiths, David Bowie, the Clash. He would sit you down in his room and play their songs over his record player and watch your reactions. While the music was good, and you’ve come to love them because the artists reminded you of Jonathan, it was never the same as listening to the Beatles with your dad during early July mornings. 
Then one night, when you and Steve had been driving around Hawkins, a Beatles song began to play over the radio. Unknowing of your history with the band, Steve started to hum along the same way your dad would do, and it was finally then that music was brought back into your life.
“What, I don’t get a hello?” Steve is smiling ear to ear, seeing the flushed joy on your face and the cardigan you wear. 
You throw your body over the center console and hug him. “Hi, honey.”
As he drives, Steve is unusually quiet. His initial smug greeting upon your arrival is quickly overshadowed by a shy demeanor. Steve’s fingers fidget on the steering wheel, his foot taps against the car’s floor. The Beatles play softly within the car and somewhere along the route you find that the wooded scenery starts to look familiar.
He’s driving you to Lover’s Lake.
“Why are we heading towards the lake?” You ask Steve, but he pretends not to hear you. Instead, he turns the radio up and sings along to Paul McCartney. Your eyes wander to the backseat and notice a small box nestled against the leather. 
A few minutes later Steve parks the car and wordlessly the two of you get out. It’s dark, the moon reflects off the lake’s water. Crickets sing in the air and the waves lap at the shore. It’s a beautiful night, the July heat is masked by the night’s breeze; your cardigan keeps you warm. 
Lost in admiring the view, you don’t notice that Steve has left your side until he returns with a picnic basket. The box you saw earlier is tucked underneath his arm. You tilt your head at him, quizzically. “What are you planning, Harrington?”
Steve grabs your hand. “You’ll see.”
He leads you down to the lake’s edge where the water meets the sand. There’s a trail that Steve once found when he was nine. It had been during the last fishing trip he had ever taken with his dad. The man commanded him to hook the worm and Steve cried. Embarrassed and ashamed, Steve had run towards where the sand met the woods and found a meadow hidden within it. 
There are flowers in full bloom within the meadow, and you gasp when you see their vibrant pinks and blues. The flowers are delicate yet their stems are long. Steve sets the picnic basket down and pulls a blanket out from it. He sets it onto the grass and lays down, motioning you to join him. 
The stars are clear tonight, shining bright above the two of you. They almost seem to wink at you as you lay side by side with Steve. His hand is in yours, as it always is these days, and with only the stars as his witness, Steve whispers into your ear, “Thank you for staying.”
His breath warms your neck, and you know, without having to ask, what he’s thanking you for. Your promise to him last year, that you’d wait for him. He hadn’t been ready. The timing of it all wouldn’t have been right, but you knew, even back then, that you’d wait forever for Steve Harrington if it meant you’d receive even half of his love. 
Take your time, I’ll be here. 
“It was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” The words come easily to you, raw with truth and vulnerability. 
A soft sigh escapes Steve. He turns his head to you, eyes finding yours, and you’ve never seen such tenderness within him. He opens his mouth, sighs out the words you’ve longed to hear again since that night at Starcourt. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” You don’t think you’ll ever tire of saying those three words to him. There’s so much love within you, so much you’ve ached to give out ever since you were a little girl, and now you finally can. 
Steve kisses you with a softness that releases a sigh from your own lips, and you know he’s wholly, truly, yours now. With a swift motion, Steve places himself on top of you as you kiss. His weight presses down on you, one hand cups your cheek and the other steadies him. His hair tickles your face, his cologne clouds your brain, and the sweet taste of July honey coats your tongue. 
Minutes, maybe even hours, pass as you kiss Steve. It’s lazy, no sense of urgency as your lips move against his. It’s warm, it’s soft. Eventually he manages to pull himself away from you, he’s brought you here for other reasons tonight. 
“Hold on, I got you something.” Steve fixes his hair, clears his throat, and pulls out a container from the basket. He reveals a freshly baked loaf of banana bread on a beautiful glass plate. There’s a small, lopsided candle on top of it.
“You came prepared tonight,” you tease him, still breathless from the kisses and love.
“My mom did, actually. She’s the one who made this.” You sit up and look at Steve, wide eyed. He laughs at you, finding your stunned reaction endearing. “Relax, angel. She really wanted to bake you something, and I had to make up for allowing Russians to ruin your seventeenth birthday, didn’t I?” 
Words escape you. Steve’s mom made you banana bread, a woman you have still yet to meet, though you’ve only heard fond stories about. She had insisted on doing this kind thing for you. 
Steve lights the candle and holds the plate up for you. “C’mon, make a wish, Y/N.”
You close your eyes, smiling, and the wish comes easily to you.
For time to stay like this, forever.
You blow the candle out, Steve cuts the banana bread, and you take turns feeding it to one another. The dessert is delicious, freshly baked and still warm. It’s sweet and nostalgic and everything you could ever ask for. 
When you’ve finished eating, Steve claps his hands. “Alright, now onto the real event of the night!” 
You raise an eyebrow. “What, the kissing wasn’t enough?” Steve makes a panicked noise and you laugh at him. “I was teasing, honey.”
“You terrify me,” he huffs, before revealing a box from behind him, the very same one you’ve been curious about all night. 
“I aspire to be terrifying,” you stick your tongue out at Steve before turning the box over in your hands. It’s light, lighter than you expected. “Is this my gift you’ve been bragging about?” For months leading up to your birthday, Steve had been boasting about this amazing gift he had thought of, how he had convinced the party to help him. 
“Open it and find out.” There’s a glint in Steve’s eyes, yet you also see the shyness return as well. He’s nervous to see your reaction, he wants more than anything to have gotten this right. 
You roll your eyes at him but open the box. It isn’t wrapped like your other gifts from Steve have been. Instead the box is made of a dark oak, and its lid opens with a soft click. The silver catches your attention first. It’s a small chain with two silver ovals on opposite sides. In between the two ovals is a collection of charms. 
“Is this…?” The charms are all roughly the same size, but each vastly different from the other. 
Steve nods at you, rubs the back of his neck. “It’s a charm bracelet.” 
Moonlight reflects off of one of the charms, revealing it to be a frog, another one to be a cookie, and slowly you piece it together. There’s six charms, one for each member of the party. “Steve.”
“Have you figured it out–oomph!” He lands with a thud on his back as you attack him with a hug. Slightly out of breath, he laughs and wraps his arms around you. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
“How did you get the kids to do this?” You lay on top of him, blinking back tears as you hold the  bracelet delicately in your hands to admire it. 
Steve sighs in exasperation. “Money and a lot of begging. They were all for picking out charms for you, I just had to pay them to spend more than five minutes with me at the jewelry store.”
You laugh, that sounds exactly like them, and you love those kids with everything within you. Holding up the frog pendant, you know which kid picked it out for you. “Mike?”
“Yup. Said something about Kermit the frog?”
“He’s such a little shit,” you say with fondness. Last year, when Billy had nearly choked you to death, your voice had been lost and Mike wouldn’t stop referring to you as Kermit. Your fingers skim over the pendant next to it, a simple blue one, and you smile. “Dustin?”
“He told me about your code blues.” Steve rubs your back, content to have you resting against him. You hum, touched that your brother trusted Steve enough to confide this to. No one else knows about your code blues, it’d been a special thing just between the two of you. 
With your ear pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, Steve explains the rest of the charms to you. His voice is lazy, slow, lilting with fondness, and his hand a firm weight against your back. Max chose a knife charm to remind you of how badass you are. Will chose a bee, because he’ll always be your little bee. Lucas was able to find a small, white flower that resembles a dogwood, knowing that it’s your favorite. As for El, she chose a cookie based solely on her love for the ones you bake for her. 
“What about the ovals?” You ask Steve after he’s done explaining what the kids chose for you. The ovals are slightly larger than the charms, almost serving as a divider between them. The metal is smooth underneath your fingers. 
He brushes hair out of your face and winks. “Turn them over.”
With slight confusion, you do, and discover that they’re engraved. Etched onto the back of one oval is honey, and, on the other, angel is written. They’re your names for one another, nestled between charms from the kids you love so dearly in your life; this is a gift made from pure, unadulterated love. 
“Oh my god,” it’s perfect, absolutely perfect. Your lips are all over Steve’s face before he even has time to blink. You scatter millions of kisses upon his face, drown him in them, With every kiss that you press upon his pretty skin, you shower him with praise. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 
Steve laughs and tries to move his face away, but really he leans into the onslaught of love. His cheeks burn from smiling so hard and from the heat you always make him feel. He grabs your waist and enjoys the skin he holds. “You like it?”
“I love it, Steve!” 
“Does this make up for the whole Russian fiasco?” He asks, only joking a little bit. He still feels awful for dragging you into everything, but with time he’s learning to forgive himself. Before he overthinks it, Steve adds, “Am I now the best boyfriend in the world?”
His words make you blush, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to Steve being yours. You’ve waited so long to be his, to hold him and kiss him like you do now. You cherish the feeling, the sensation of knowing a boy loves you the way that Steve does. “You’ve definitely redeemed yourself for getting me trapped in a Russian lair on my birthday. And you’re definitely the best boyfriend in the world.”
Steve, despite being underneath you, does a victory dance and whoops into the night. He’s elated, his face shines when you look down at him, and you’ve never been so in love before. You once thought you knew what love was, what the burn of it could feel like. But now, with Steve lying beneath you as his arms keep you from falling, you know that love is airless, light, cool to the touch and warm on the skin. Love isn’t supposed to hurt, it’s supposed to feel like coming home after a long day of being out in the cold. 
After Steve helps you put on the charm bracelet, you lay together in the meadow. The lake’s waves can be heard in the distance. Crickets chirp their greeting, the stars wink hello above you. Their noises serve as a lullaby to you, soothing you to an almost sleep-like state. You nestle your head into the crook of Steve’s neck and let out a sleepy exhale. 
Feeling this, Steve strokes the back of your hair. “You fallin’ asleep on me, Henderson?”
“I’m resting my eyes.” 
“Very convincing,” he chuckles, tightening his embrace to try and stave off the cold that creeps in. He lets out his own tired sigh, your weight upon him has always put him at ease. He inhales, smells your perfume, and he can’t believe that he’s here right now with you. After everything he’s been through, he can’t believe that somehow he’s come out of it with you next to him. Last year he thought he had lost you forever. This year he can see forever with you. “I think I like this July a whole lot better than the last one.”
It’s meant to be a joke, a gentle tease. More of a reflection of how far the two of you have come in such a short amount of time, but still Steve’s words remind you of something. You’ve never told him the real reason why you left last summer. Why you ran away from him. 
“I was scared, last summer.” 
Steve tilts his head at you. “Scared of what?”
“I was scared of falling in love with you,” the confession lifts from your chest. It hangs over you both, the weight of it tangible. Steve’s eyes soften, he lets out a soft oh, and you duck your head shyly. “Last July, you were… Everything. You were everything to me, and it terrified me. I was still figuring my feelings out for Jonathan back then, you had Nancy, but you were so lovely and I just–I couldn’t do it. It wouldn’t have been fair, not to anyone, but I’m sorry.”
“Y/N…” Steve hadn’t known. All this time, he thought he had done something wrong. But really you had been trying to protect yourself, protect him, and he understands now why you had to leave him for a while. He sees the distress on your face and he shushes you, kisses your forehead. “Don’t apologize, okay? I honestly would’ve run away too, if I were you. I’m just… You came back to me, in the end. That’s all I care about.”
He’s too good for you. “I still hurt you.”
“You’re human,” Steve brushes more hair out of your face. “We all make mistakes. You ditched me for a few months and I almost got you killed by crazy Russians. I think we’re pretty even now.”
Despite the guilt in your throat, Steve manages to draw a smile from you. It’s what he’s always done best. Even on the day Will had gone missing, he had been the one to ease the loss by pretending not to have known your name. He had made you laugh when you thought you could never laugh again. Steve would do anything to get you to smile, and you cannot imagine where you’d be without him. “We always even our debts, huh?”
“It’s tradition at this point.”
And you laugh, full-bellied and loud and recklessly. It echoes into the night, Steve’s reverberates into your ears, and you’re happy. 
– 
A month passes, and in the mid-August heat, Jonathan knocks on your window late one night. 
His knuckles rap against the glass and it’s a sound reminiscent of before, when you were little kids who didn’t know how yet to hurt each other. You crawl out of your bed, curious, though happy nonetheless to let him in. 
You go to open your curtain, ready to tell the boy all about what Dustin had done today, unaware that when you open the curtain, everything will change. 
Jonathan is crying. 
“Bee, oh my God.” You quickly open the window and he manages to crawl through, though sobs wrack his body. He’s shaking, and for a terrifying moment you think that something has happened to Will. “Is everything okay?”
He stands before you, chest heaving and eyes red, and with two words your world comes crashing down. “We’re moving.”
Time stands still. You’re seventeen and your childhood is coming to a close.
Somehow you’re holding onto Jonathan as he explains everything through his tears. He’s moving in early September, going all the way to California. He and his family are leaving Hawkins, leaving you. 
Your legs give out, or maybe it’s Jonathan’s, but you hold each other on the floor, intertwined, mourning the loss of growing up together. Your tears mix with his, his breathing becomes yours. The two of you cling onto each other, scared that one day soon you’ll never be able to do this again. 
“We need to–” Your breathing is shaky, your eyes sting. You feel a desperate franticness claw out of you, you grasp at what little sanity you have left. “We need to promise each other that–that we’ll see each other every day before you leave, in some capacity. It–it doesn’t matter how but–”
“I’ve already talked to Nancy about it, bug.” Jonathan wipes your tears, lets his own fall freely. He knew you’d say this, and he loves you all the more for it. “It’s been agreed.”
You nod, relieved. It isn’t much, it still doesn’t change the fact that Jonathan will leave you in the end, but at least you’ll make every last second with him count. You’ll move into the Byers home if you have to, they’re your family. He’s your person. He’s embedded into your skin, he’s nestled between your bones. 
Last year you and Jonathan promised you would never let go of each other. 
The year prior to that you promised each other that nothing would change between you two. 
Now, holding onto each other as the world you’ve been building together for five years comes crumbling down, you have to believe that the promises will be enough.
Steve and Robin rope you into helping them find a new job.
You innocently pointed out that Family Video was hiring, figuring it was an easy enough place to work at, and suddenly the two of them had shoved you into Steve’s car with resumes in their hands. Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming. 
“You put your mom down as a reference?” Robin questions Steve as you all get out of the car. She had agreed to proofread it after you politely declined, stating that if you proofread anything Steve wrote, it might ruin your relationship. 
“Yeah, why not?” Steve slams his door, straightens his shirt, and grabs your hand as you walk inside. “She’s like, super well respected.”
You share a look with Robin. “Rich kids,” you both groan at the same time. As much as you love Steve, you’ll neve quite get over how well connected he is. It’s bizarre and slightly terrifying how much the Harrington name can get you in this town.
“Whatever, call me a rich kid, but it’s my car you guys get free rides in.”
Robin rolls her eyes. “You’re such a dingus.”
“I didn’t ask to be here,” you remind Steve, though you thank him when he holds the store’s door open for you and Robin. “I think this could count as kidnapping.”
Robin bumps her hips against yours. “Not technically. Besides, I thought we agreed to leave our kidnapping days behind us after Erica?”
You shove the teen and follow her into the store. You look around at all the movies, slightly impressed. You’ve never really visited Family Video before, only really stopping by if you were picking up Dustin from the arcade next door. The store is nice, albeit small, but you can see Steve and Robin enjoying themselves. There’s good music, few customers, and the uniformed vest is less mortifying than Scoop’s small shorts and sailor hats. “It’s not so bad in here.”
“Why thank you, pretty lady.” A greasy looking man at the register smiles at you, leaning over it in a very unappealing manner. His name tag informs you that his name is Keith.
Steve immediately steps in front of you and stares the guy down. “She doesn’t need you thanking her, buddy.”
You can tell that he wants to say more, but you see the “general manager” on Keith’s name tag and quickly try to deescalate the situation. If your idiot boyfriend wants the job, he can’t piss off the guy hiring. “Steve, why don’t we take a look around while Robin does all the talking?”
“What–” He doesn’t have a chance to argue, you’re already pulling him down a random aisle, throwing a quick “good luck!” to Robin as you leave. 
She talks with Keith, and it seems to be going well. She shows him their resumes, smiles at him kindly. before she shouts across the store to Steve. “Dingus, what are your three favorite movies?”
Steve nearly drops the movie he had been looking at. “Uh, Animal House?” You can practically hear Robin’s disappointed sigh from where you stand, and Keith looks unimpressed. Panicked, Steve whispers to you, “What are my favorite movies?”
“I don’t know!” You hiss, frantically trying to get this poor man a job. “Just, name two other movies. Animal House can’t be too bad, right?”
“Star Wars,” Steve manages to get out, now walking back to the register. You stand next to him, looking nervously at Robin, who makes a pained noise at his responses. 
The manager stares blankly at him. “A New Hope?”
“A new what now?”
You drop your head into your hands and sigh. He’s hopeless. Already knowing it’s a lost cause, you mumble to him, “It’s a Star Wars movie, Steve.”
He snaps his fingers. “Right! Yeah, it’s the one with the teddy bears, isn’t it?” Steve makes what you think is supposed to be an Ewok sound, which only makes you sigh again. Sensing he’s fucked up, Steve tries to backtrack. “No? Uh… Oh! The one that just came out, the movie. The one with DeLorean and Alex P. Keaton and he’s trying to bang his mom.”
“Oh, dear.” It’s a trainwreck, one you can’t look away from, and Robin can only shake her head at you. “Steve?”
“Yeah?” 
“Stop talking.”
“Uh, yeah.” Steve clears his throat, he knows he’s rambling. Had he known he would have a goddamn pop quiz about movies, he wouldn’t have dragged you here for the interview. “Those are my top three. Classics.”
Keith looks between you, Steve, and Robin. He points to Robin first, “You start Monday.” He points to Steve, “You start never.” And then he points to you, “You can start whenever.”
“Okay, I get why you’re telling me no,” Steve waves a hand in front of you, “but she didn’t even apply!” 
You’re also confused by how this day is turning out, and you look at Robin, wide eyed and pleading. She’s good with people, Keith seems to like her. When she sees you silently begging her to fix this, Robin sighs and steps in front of Steve. “Will you just, um… Will you guys give us a minute?” 
“Why?” Steve doesn’t move, and you want to throw a shoe at him. 
“Let’s go, pretty boy.” You grab the back of his shirt and yank him back to the aisle of movies. He doesn’t fight you, he simply accepts his fate and allows you to drag him away. Before turning the corner, you nod at Keith. “Thanks for the job offer, but you should really give it to the guy I’m currently dragging.”
Robin snickers at Steve’s offended huff as the two of you leave, before she starts trying to convince the manager to let Steve work there. From where you stand, it seems like a heated discussion. You try to lean closer, nosey, and while you’re distracted, Steve runs into a life-sized cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates wearing a red bikini. 
He fights with it, tries desperately not to let it fall, all while his resume hangs from his mouth. “Shit! Oh, Fast Times! Ever heard of it? Top three for me, Keith.” Robin laughs and Steve turns the cardboard cutout to you, wiggling his eyebrows. “Own any red bikinis?”
You flick his forehead, though you laugh as well. “In your dreams.”
“I can sleep right now and find out–”
“I will flick you again.”
“A kiss is preferred, but whatever.”
– 
When the Byers move, you spend the entire day fighting back tears as you help them pack. 
You spent the night in Jonathan’s room, both of you dreading the morning to come. Neither of you had slept, instead spending the entire night taking turns sharing your favorite memories together. The day you met. The time a dog chased you. When Jonathan mistook your sweater for his and wore it to school. Late night drives. Movie nights with your brothers. You relive it all that night. 
As the morning sunlight began to stream into Jonathan’s room, the warmth the memories brought started to fade away. Slowly, as the sun rose, you and Jonathan packed his room. You helped him organize his vinyls, sort through his mixtapes. When he isn’t looking, you steal a few t-shirts and flannels from his closet. He won’t notice they’re gone until he’s halfway to California. 
When it gets too much, seeing all of Jonathan’s life dwindling down to only a few boxes, you wander into the living room and help Joyce pack as well. She sees the tears in your eyes and gives you things to do, but eventually you can’t take it anymore. You go into Will’s room, and it’s the same. You cry, he cries with you, and it’s bittersweet. The rooms empty, the boxes grow.
El’s room is the hardest to pack, she has so few items to call her own, and you’re both silent as you move through the room together. 
With each box that you tape full of things you grew up with, you feel a piece of your childhood being packed away as well. The plates you used to eat off of, the books you used to bring from your job, the toys you passed down to Will. It’s all there, pieces of you frozen in time.
As you tape a box labeled “games” in Jonathan’s messy handwriting, you hear Max and Lucas singing in the living room. The sound makes you smile. It’s one of Max’s better days, she’s teasing Dustin for singing with Suzie, and she’s in a good mood. The rest of the party keeps her occupied. The kids all arrived as early as Joyce allowed them to, Nancy and Mike were the first to knock on the door. 
You place the box next to the others and walk towards Jonathan’s room. He’s leaning against its door frame with Nancy beside him, and you join them. You stare at the empty room, the one you’ve called your second home ever since you were twelve. It hurts, seeing it stripped of everything. 
All of Jonathan’s boxes are in the living room, filled with the things that make him who he is. There’s a drawer in your room of things Jonathan has left over the years, and you’re never giving them back. They’re all you have left of him. 
You and Jonathan take in his barren room, and you sigh against the door frame. “It’s so… empty.”
Nancy crosses her arms. “Is that everything?”
“I guess so,” Jonathan stuffs his hands in his pockets. His room feels cold somehow, its emptiness devoids it of the warmth it once had. He can still hear your laughs echoing in the floorboards, he can still smell your perfume that clings onto the walls. There’s scuff on the closet door from the time the two of you thought it’d be a good idea to play blind-folded baseball in the small room. 
Jonathan steps into his room, taking it all one last time. The sunlight from his window illuminates his silhouette, making him appear even smaller within the room. “Seventeen years of my life… packed up in one day.”
His voice is melancholic, his body is sad. You nudge Nancy, nod your head in Jonathan’s direction, urging her to go after him. She nods, understands that you’re telling her to say goodbye, giving them the space to do so. She smiles at you appreciatively.
You do it because they love each other, but selfishly a part of you leaves because you can’t say goodbye just yet. 
“Thank you,” she whispers, following after Jonathan. 
You find El as she’s leaving Joyce’s room. She’s holding a piece of paper, clutched closely to her chest. There are tears in her eyes, though you know better than to ask why. It’s a sad day for everyone, you’ll let her grieve on her own. However, that doesn’t stop you from pulling the girl into a fierce hug. 
“I’ll miss you so much, sweetheart.” You mumble, kissing the top of her head. “I don’t know who’s going to paint my nails now.”
El laughs through her tears and holds you tight. “I can ask Mike to.”
You kiss her head again, close your eyes, and pray to whoever is above that this girl will stay who she is forever. That she will never change. Her kindness is genuine, her joy is admirable. All her life she only knew cruelty, and yet she still came out of it so full of love. “I’d love to hear how that goes.”
“I will write you,” El promises, and you nod eagerly at her. She pulls you in for one last hug before finally releasing you to go see Joyce. 
The woman greets you with a tired smile when you walk into her room. She’s kneeling on the floor, folding clothes. They’re baggier than what she normally wears, darker, and you finally realize that they’re Hopper’s. 
A lump forms in your throat. She shouldn’t be doing this alone, packing away the remnants of his life. “Here, let me help.”
Joyce accepts, and together you sit in comfortable silence as you go through the clothes Hopper left behind. They still smell like him, old cigarettes and whiskey. It’s a nostalgic scene, a part of you wishes you could keep one of his shirts. He had been dear to you, regardless of the constant bickering you faced with him. 
“I don’t blame you, you know.” Joyce speaks softly next to you, catching your attention. “At all.”
You look up at her, sucking in a breath. “I don’t… I don’t know what you mean, Mrs. Byers.”
“The guilt, honey.” She places a hand on your arm, gentle as she always is with you. “I know you blame yourself for what happened to Will, but you shouldn’t. You have to let go of it. I want…” Joyce pauses, looks into your eyes the way a mother does to her daughter. “I want you to promise me that you’ll live the life that you deserve, because you’ve spent half of your life making sure my boys lived the lives that they deserved. Can you do that for me?”
“I…” You’re crying, you don’t know what to say. For years you’ve carried the guilt of Will’s disappearance, and for even longer you’ve done everything you could to ensure that he was loved. That Jonathan was loved. Never once had it felt like a burden to you, but Joyce’s words undoes something in you. “I promise.”
Joyce pulls you into her arms and hugs you, tears in her own eyes. She strokes your hair, hugs you as she’s always done since you were a little girl. She echoes the final words that Hopper told you. “You’re the best of them.”
You’re not sure how long you cry in Joyce’s arms, but when she soothes you and wipes your tears away, she tells you to go find Will. They’re leaving soon, he’ll want to see you, and you wish the woman one final goodbye before going to find her son. 
Will ends up being in the hallway, you find him just after he’s said goodbye to Mike. You note the longing in his eyes, the uncertainty in his posture as his friend leaves. There’s a wistful look on his face, one that you once had on your own when Jonathan was around. Even if Will may not know yet, you do. 
“Hey, little bee.”
He turns around, the softness in his eyes when he sees you makes you homesick. “Y/N!”
Will buries his face in your chest, and you hug him just as tightly back. He’s grown so much since you first met him. He’s no longer the shy little boy who had been afraid of his own shadow, and you can’t believe you won’t get to finish watching him grow up. “I swear, you’re going to be taller than me next time I see you. Won’t be able to call you little bee anymore.”
“I’ll always be your little bee,” Will squeezes you tighter, afraid to let go of you. 
“Good,” you ruffle his hair, making him to laugh. “I’ll miss you, but I’m sure you already know that.”
“I’ll miss you, too.” Will’s voice is wet, more tears come. He pulls away from you, he looks as if he wants to say something, but he stops himself. As if he’s afraid of something.
You frown. “Hey, what is it?”
“I’m scared,” The words rush from his mouth. “What if… What if I don’t make any friends?” He lowers his voice, looks around nervously, before trusting to say the words out loud to you. “I–I’m different, Y/N.”
Will’s fear hurts you to see, you wish you could do more, promise him that it will all be okay, but you can’t. Instead, all you can do is kiss his cheek and hope he can feel all the love you have for him within it. All you can do is remind him that you will love him through it all. “You’re the bravest kid I know. I have no doubt that you’ll be fine. I mean, you’ll have Jonathan and El with you, but if you ever need me, I’m just a phone call away. I love you, and that will never change.”
You stroke the boy’s cheek with your finger, and he leans into the gentle touch. “I’m rooting for you, always.”
Will squeezes you tight when he hugs you for the last time. He thanks you, his body relaxes into yours, and you know that in the end he’ll be okay. He’s a brilliant kid, he’s been through more than anyone else his age ever has. He’s resilient, his kindness is his strength, you just hope that he can recognize that himself one day. 
As you pull away from the hug, Will’s eyes catch on someone, you turn around. It’s Jonathan, standing by the front door, waiting for you. 
It’s time to say goodbye. 
Taking a deep breath, you walk towards him, and Jonathan takes your hand and guides you to the porch outside. Everyone else is still inside, packing. You sit side by side in silence, absorbing the final remaining moments alone with each other. Saying goodbye to your childhood best friend leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. 
A ladybug crawls on a leaf next to you, a bee flies past you and lands on a sunflower nearby, and a bird chirps in the blue sky above. You rest your head on Jonathan’s shoulder, he presses a kiss to your temple. Your fingers interlock and the cool September air surrounds you.
“I made you something,” Jonathan breathes out, clears his throat. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a mixtape, its front covered with a piece of paper listing all the songs on it. “I, uh, used the money I won from the betting pool to make it. Dustin was pretty annoyed with me for winning.”
You snort at the image of your brother berating your friend for winning a betting pool about how long it’d take Steve to ask you out. Taking the mixtape from Jonathan, you read the songs. There’s eight songs on it, the first one being a Beatles song from your childhood; you don’t know how Jonathan knew that. Though most of them are familiar, the writing on the paper is old, faded with age. “How long have you been making this, bee?”
Jonathan looks away from you and swallows. “A while, I guess. Listen to it after I leave, okay? That way, if you hate it, I’ll never have to know.” His demeanor is odd, there’s something he’s not telling you, but it’s your last day with him. You leave it alone for now, not wanting to ruin it. 
“You’re not allowed to find a new best friend.” You tell him instead, the silence becoming too much to bear. It’s a joke, though truthfully you don’t want Jonathan to find another best friend. He’s supposed to be yours, only yours, and you’re supposed to be his. 
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Jonathan lets out a soft laugh, and you’re going to miss feeling the way his body moves as he does so. He sucks in a breath, releases it slowly, and shakes his head. “I mean, we were kids together, bug.”
You start to cry, and he does as well. You’ve never had to say goodbye to each other before. Not like this. The two of you sit on the porch of Jonathan’s childhood home and cry. You cry into his neck, he buries his face into your hair, and it’s all so unfair. 
Jonathan touches his forehead to yours. You look into his eyes and know that your childhood will always live within him, and his within you. Jonathan brings his finger up to your bee necklace, his ladybug ring knocks against the pendant. The jewelry glistens in the sunlight. 
“Bee, we were more than just kids together.”
And it’s true. You were everything together. Now, you have to figure out how to be everything while apart. 
– 
The last of the boxes are placed in the moving van. Everyone is crying, you’re all gathered around one another, hugging and saying goodbye. 
You hold El tight and whisper good luck to her. You remind Will that everything will be okay, knowing how scared he’s been of high school and remorseful that he has to do it all alone. The kids all cry as they share the final hugs, Jonathan and Nancy cry as they hold one another. Everyone says goodbye, and you watch them with tears in your eyes. You turn to Joyce to kiss her cheek, but she grabs your arm instead. 
“Remember what you promised me, okay?” She catches your eye, makes sure you hear what she’s telling you. “Live the life that you deserve.”
“I will,” you exhale, and she seems content with that. Joyce hugs you, kisses your cheek, and you tell her to drive safe as she gets into the van. 
Jonathan stands by his car, waiting for you, and you pull the boy into your arms. He crashes against you, clutches you to his chest, and you breathe him in one final time. “I’ll always love you the most, bee.”
“And I’ll always love you the most, bug.” 
Joyce drives away first, El in the van with her, before Jonathan and Will follow. The car pulls out of its driveway one final time, and you hold Nancy’s hand as you both cry. Slowly, their cars fade into the distance, and one by one the kids hop on their bikes and pedal away. No one wants to stay, the empty house feels too permanent, solemn. Eventually Nancy gets into her own car, wishing you a quiet goodbye, until it’s just you and your brother standing in front of the house. 
Dustin stays beside you, as he always does, and you take a deep breath. Nothing will ever be the same again. 
You take one last look at the Byers home, the house you grew up in and discovered pure love and joy and naivety in, and inhale the final scent of your childhood. Dandelions are in bloom, its yellow surrounds the home, soon they will wilt and its seeds will litter the sky
Joyce’s words ring in your head.
It’s time to live the life that you deserve. You’re on your own now, though you know that really you aren’t. Dustin is next to you, Steve and Robin are waiting at your house with movies stolen from work because they knew how hard today would be. Your mother has your favorite cookies ready and waiting for you. Mike and the others have already planned their first letter to Will. 
The charm bracelet from the party and Steve is cool against your wrist. 
You’re no longer the scared, angry twelve year old you had been when you first moved to Hawkins. You’re loved, you have so many incredible people in your life who now get to watch you grow up into someone new. 
Slowly, you exhale your childhood, with a single promise of keeping it within you forever. To live the life that Joyce has told you that you deserve.
And you believe her. 
[END OF SEASON THREE]
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oddinary4bts · 3 months
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Chasing Cars | ch 8 (jjk)
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☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: peach, curses, luxury, impostor syndrome, alcohol, jungkook's family, they are so gone for each other my dude, explicit content: hickeys, dom!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, jerking off, oral sex (male receiving), exhibitionism (sort of but not really), protected sex, Jungkook is a teasing hoe, marking, ass slapping, praising, clit play
☆word count: 13.5k
☆a/n: NEW YOOOORK!!! My second favourite chapter of this series bc it's just so asjgsrjgsabfgo but I'll let you guys be the judge of that haha enjoy reading <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3
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☆add yourself to the taglist here!
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If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
Friday, March 8th 
The sun is high in the sky, the snow melting on the side of the road, and Jungkook’s car is eating the miles towards New York, the music you’ve been listening to since you’ve left loud yet enjoyable.
Or maybe what’s truly enjoyable is the smile on Jungkook’s face whenever you meet his gaze while you’re bolting a duet, singing over the music.
Scratch that, you’ve been enjoying yourself because you’re with Jungkook. It doesn’t matter what you’d be doing - as long as it’s with Jungkook, you know you’d have fun. Even as his car slows down almost to a halt as you near the city and face its traffic, it doesn’t deter you.
No, Jungkook’s wide grin and his hand on your thigh keeps your mind far too occupied to be able to produce anything other than serotonin, and you think you deserve it. Especially after the uncertainty of the last few weeks, you deserve this moment with Jungkook.
This moment, away from reminders of Taehyung and of how you know this relationship is bound to explode in your face one day.
You shove that thought away as Jungkook’s giggle fills the car, and you glance at him, smiling brightly.
“You’re not really going to put some Taylor Swift on,” Jungkook complains, yet it’s at odds with the amused light in his eyes.
“I sure am,” you reply, and the song Welcome to New York starts playing. 
You know it by heart, and Jungkook watches you in awe as you sing. If you weren’t rational, you’d assume he’s looking at you with heart-shaped eyes, but you know better than that.
You’re just his fake girlfriend for the weekend. Nothing more. 
Nothing more than the fact that you will meet his entire family, including his extended family, tomorrow. He doesn’t seem like he cares, and you’ve been trying to pretend that you don’t care either, but it is making you feel anxious.
You’ve never had a boyfriend that you’ve met the family of before. Or actually, you’ve never had a boyfriend whatsoever.
Jungkook knows his way in the city. You’re not surprised - he grew up here, and he told you he usually spends his summers back home as well to work and make enough money for the year. What you’re surprised about is that the streets down which he starts driving once you’re passed the traffic and into the city proper look expensive, exuding wealth that you could only ever wish to know.
It only increases when he parks his car in the underground parking garage of a huge skyscraper which apparently holds condos and the like.
At least that’s what he says. 
“Leave your bag in the car,” Jungkook tells you as you’re about to fetch your duffel bag from the backseat. 
You cock an eyebrow in question. “Aren’t we here?”
He smiles mischievously, eyes shining in the white neon light of the underground garage. “I’m taking you shopping.”
“Why?” you burst out, looking down at yourself. “Are my clothes not good enough?”
He walks around the car, pulling you away from the car door by the hand before he shuts it behind you, leaning against it. 
“Trust me, peach, your clothes are perfect for me,” he says. “But I much prefer you without the clothes on.”
He winks, and you punch him in the shoulder, cheeks flaming.
“You’re insufferable,” you grumble.
“You like it.”
“I don’t.”
He smiles as you fake-glare at him, until you both start laughing. He extends a hand for you to take, and you let him engulf your small hand with his large one as he pulls you towards the elevator.
“Seriously though, I’ll get you a nice dress for tomorrow night,” Jungkook says as you reach the elevator, and he presses the call button. “Not that I don’t trust what you’ve brought,” he quickly adds before you could say anything. “More as a thank you for doing this for me.”
You narrow your eyes at him, yet you nod your head. Because who would say no to free clothes?
Certainly not you.
Jungkook pulls you behind him in the elevator when the doors slide open, and then presses on the ground floor. Once you get off, he’s quick to guide you down a hallway that looks straight out of a fancy hotel - marble floors reflecting the light of the sconces on the walls, abstract paintings at regular intervals on the wall to the left, over dark oak tables with white flowers in crystal vases. 
The hallway even smells expensive, and you throw a curious glance to Jungkook.
“Where are we?” you ask, unable to help yourself.
He glances at you over his shoulder, winking at you. “Home.”
“This is what you call home?” you ask, thinking about the small apartment you grew up in on the poor side of the city you hail from.
He shrugs. “I feel more at home back in college, but yeah, I grew up here.”
“Jungkook,” you say, tugging on his hand to stop him, but he’s determined, his steps unfaltering.
You grumble under your breath, yet you follow him out into the early evening setting sun, the doors of the building golden. You don’t ask the questions that are burning in your mind - what do his parents do for a living? Why didn’t he mention he was rich?
Why does he live in that small, old apartment with you and Taehyung if he can afford so much more?
The questions spin in your head like they are a tornado of thoughts, and they only increase in speed as he pulls you to an Yves Saint Laurent store, pushing the door open as if he owns the place.
Could he…?
“Jeon Jungkook!” a middle-aged lady greets him, her face lighting up as you come into view. “We haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Hey, Mrs Smith,” Jungkook answers. “Meet my girlfriend.”
He tugs on your hand, forcing you to step out from behind him, and you blush as the lady appears. She’s tall, though you believe it might be because she’s wearing stilettos, and her skirt and blazer combo makes her look like a businesswoman. 
The nametag on the blazer is a clear indication that she isn’t, though. No, she visibly works here.
“Hello,” you awkwardly say, not knowing what else to say as she looks you up and down.
“Are you here for a new wardrobe?” she asks, the question directed towards Jungkook as if what you’re wearing is the ugliest outfit anyone has ever come up with before.
You try to not take offense, yet you find yourself momentarily clenching your jaw as Jungkook replies, “No, just for a dress for Junghyun’s engagement party.”
Mrs Smith nods, and she motions towards what looks like a small scene in front of multiple mirrors. It’s the kind of thing you’ve seen before in period pieces, where the seamstresses take the ladies’ measurement. So you’re not entirely surprised when Mrs Smith pulls out a measuring tape from a hidden pocket in her blazer, and you let her do her work, your eyes on Jungkook as he watches with an amused smile on his lips.
“You could have warned me,” you say, and Mrs Smith looks up towards you, the frown on her features convincing you to shut up until she’s done.
Jungkook only laughs, saying, “I’ve got a lot to tell you.”
He does. He certainly does, and though it’s pissing you off, there’s something endearing about the way he’s watching from that couch, the small smile on his lips softening his features. 
You fall silent as Mrs Smith keeps working, and soon she’s sauntering off, the sound of her stilettos click-clacking slowly fading. You immediately climb off from the little scene, storming towards Jungkook.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were rich?” you ask.
He shrugs. “Does it change anything?”
“It doesn’t.” You look around, not quite believing that you’re standing in a designer store. “But then it does.”
He pouts, the expression so adorable you feel like leaning in and kissing him. It’s startling, and before you can do anything, Mrs Smith comes back with a light blue dress she wants you to try on. You follow the lady to the dressing room, and Jungkook offers you a wink as you glance at him over your shoulder.
Mrs Smith leads you into the room, and it’s way too large for just a dressing room. She leaves the dress on a hook against a wall, in front of a tall standing mirror, and you thank her as she gets out, gently shutting the door behind her.
Which leaves you alone with your thoughts, and with the fact that Jungkook wants to buy you a designer dress. 
You take a look at the dress. It’s beautiful, the colour eerily similar to that of a summer sky, yet maybe somewhat a little paler. You step towards it, searching for a tag, but you can’t find any. The softness of the fabric is a clear indication that it is probably worth more than everything you own combined together, and you anxiously take off your clothes to put it on.
One look in the mirror makes you feel like a princess. Like you’re the one someone might write a story about, or sing a song to. Even though your hair is a mess and you’re not wearing any makeup, you feel more beautiful than you’ve ever felt before.
The dress hugs your curves perfectly, enhancing them in all the right places. It looks like it was tailor-made for you, and for a moment you believe you’re in love.
You really do think you’re in love when you shyly step out of the dressing room for Mrs Smith to finish zipping the dress up, and Jungkook looks up from his phone to look at you.
The smirk on his lips slowly dies down, and his gaze doesn’t move from you as you step closer. You don’t think he’s blinking, or even breathing, and you truly feel like the most beautiful woman in the world right now.
“Do you like the dress?” a female voice to your left says, but you can’t look away from Jungkook.
You’re entranced, and it seems that he is too. Like you’re the center of the universe, or maybe that’s him - it’s hard to tell.
“We’ll take it,” Jungkook says after a moment, and he gets up. 
Towering over you, he tilts your head back with a finger on your chin, and you gulp as your gazes connect.
“On the family tab?” Mrs Smith asks. 
“Yes.”
“How much is the dress?” you can’t help but query, turning your head towards Mrs Smith.
She regards you with an eyebrow cocked, before glancing at Jungkook. “10,350 dollars, miss.”
Your mouth falls open as she walks away, and you immediately look back towards Jungkook.
“No,” is all that you say.
He flicks your nose. “Don’t cause a scene, peach.”
“I’m not causing a scene,” you say through gritted teeth. “This dress is worth more than a year of my share of the rent.”
“And? Your point?”
You roll your eyes, folding your arms on your chest. “I’m not letting you buy this.”
“Well too bad for you, it’s already paid for.”
He winks at you again, and then plops back down on the couch, his smirk widening into a grin that makes butterflies come to life in your stomach.
It’s a feeling you don’t like, so you turn your back on him, heading back to the dressing room. With new respect for the dress, you slowly take it off, treating it reverently. Once it’s safely back on the hanger, you put your clothes back on, hands shaking a little at the enormity of what Jungkook just did.
Though, to him, it doesn’t seem like it was a lot. Indeed, when you get out of the dressing room, leaving the dress behind because you don’t dare touch it again, Jungkook springs up from the couch, offering you his hand.
And even though you feel like maybe you don’t really know anything about him, you take his hand. His fingers close around yours, gently, and he offers you a smile that makes you warm like spring days, when the world is coming back to life.
And as you walk behind him, you think maybe, maybe this weekend is a great opportunity to get to know him better. To get to know the man that hides behind the cocky behaviour, the one you’ve seen on multiple occasions already.
Though it should scare you, the thought only makes you hold onto Jungkook’s fingers a little tighter. He reciprocates, and it’s with a heart beating wildly that he waits with you for Mrs Smith to bring the dress over, safely hidden in a dress bag. Jungkook takes it for you, and then he pulls you behind him.
You’re soon swallowed by the New York city bustling crowd, though Jungkook is a lighthouse in the storm and you feel safe.
You feel safe with him, and that, more than anything, scares you.
*****
“You’re shitting me,” is all you say when Jungkook leads you into his room, once you’re back at the condominium in which he grew up.
You’d gathered enough information to know that he was rich. But you didn’t think he was rich rich - the condo he grew up in is on the two highest levels of the skyscraper, with an unparalleled view of Central Park that’s making you feel like you’re a bird soaring in the sky.
Jungkook laughs behind you as he shuts the door, dropping your duffel bag and his next to it. You’ve been carrying the dress up, treating it like the treasure that it is, and Jungkook gently takes it from your hand as he walks away, disappearing in what you can only assume is his walk-in wardrobe. 
He pops back out a few seconds later, minus the dress bag, and he offers you a smile that’s even more blinding than the city view. “No, I’m not,” he says.
You chuckle, cheeks burning for a reason you don’t quite understand, and then you scan his room. It’s cold, empty, void of the quality that makes his room back at the apartment feel like his. This room is impersonal, the kind of room you’d see in interior design magazines, with the black bed covers and equally as dark walls. Light comes from behind the bed frame, yet the true beauty of the room is that of the city, and you take it in as you step closer to the floor-to-ceiling window that is the wall at the foot of the bed.
“I can’t believe it,” you murmur. “This is so beautiful.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
You slowly nod, glancing towards Jungkook. “I can’t believe you chose to live in that shitty apartment with Tae when this is what you were accustomed to.”
He shrugs, not answering anything, as he instead heads to where he left the duffel bags so that he can carry them into the walk-in. You follow him then, curious to see what the rest of his bedroom looks like.
The walk-in is empty, save for a corner that holds a couple of suits you imagine to be from different designer brands. You notice a few dress shirts over there too, but your gaze focuses on the PC setup that’s in between two walls of shelves.
Finally, something that feels like Jungkook.
You walk towards it, rolling the chair back so that you can sit in it. Jungkook drops your duffel bag on the shelf behind you, and you turn your chair so that you can face him.
“You want to play?” he asks.
“What games do you have?”
He leans towards you, and you catch a whiff of his cologne as he turns the PC on. 
“Honestly I don’t remember what’s downloaded on the PC,” he truthfully replies. “Just check out my Steam account.”
And then he’s walking towards the other side of the walk-in, heading towards what you can only assume is the bathroom. You spring up from the chair, and it rolls behind you from the sudden motion as you jog to the bathroom.
You’re not surprised to see just how expensive the bathroom looks. Black tiles cover the floor, and they climb the walls of the walk-in shower next to which a wide-standing cabinet with glass doors is. A proper look at the shower shows that it’s one with multiple shower heads, and you already know the shower you’ll take later will be heavenly, clearly the best you’ll ever take in your life. Jungkook leans on the counter, folding his arm on his chest as he watches you taking everything in, your gaze wide from awe.
“You don’t even have a bath,” you comment, and Jungkook bursts out laughing.
“I never needed one. But if you want to take a bath, there’s one in the bigger bathroom on this level.”
“Isn’t it connected to like… your parents’ room or something?” you ask.
He shrugs. “Yeah, but my parents haven’t stayed here since I was five,” he reveals. “They prefer staying at hotels.”
You furrow your brow. “They have such a nice condo and they don’t even enjoy it?”
Another shrug of Jungkook tells you that he, too, doesn’t understand his parents. 
“If you want, I can give you a tour of the whole place,” Jungkook suggests after a beat of silence.
Your eyes light up, and you nod forcefully. “Yes. Please, I’d love to.”
He laughs at your enthusiasm, before motioning towards the toilet. “I do have to go to the bathroom first, if you’ll excuse me.”
Cheeks burning, you mumble an apology that makes him laugh as you step out of the bathroom, and he gently closes the door behind you. Embarrassed, you make your way back to the gaming setup, and you watch the landscape picture of the welcome screen. Pressing on enter reveals that Jungkook doesn’t have a password for the computer, and a moment later his Steam library appears in front of your eyes.
Obviously he’s got every game you can imagine, and you don’t have time to go through the whole library before he’s out, ready to give you the tour. And the rest of the condo is just as impressive as Jungkook’s bedroom is, though the whole thing feels… empty. Void of life. Which, you assume it is considering his parents don’t live here most of the time, and his brother owns a city house with his fiancée. 
Your favourite part ends up being the kitchen, even though you don’t cook. But who wouldn’t like the beauty of the marble counters, of the white cupboards and of the impressive glass chandelier that hangs over the long dinner table?
You end up sitting on a stool at the island, watching Jungkook as he moves through the kitchen. He finds instant noodles in the pantry, and he comes out of it with a wide grin on his lips.
“Found dinner,” he says.
You laugh. “You’ve got such a nice kitchen and all you’ll cook are some instant noodles?”  
He narrows his gaze at you. “You have a problem against instant noodles?”
You snort, shrugging your shoulders. “No.”
He doesn’t seem convinced, but he drops it, focusing on making food for the two of you. It takes a few minutes, but he’s soon sitting next to you, two bowls of noodles wafting steam in front of you. It smells good, if not a bit spicy, and you grab the chopsticks he put out for you.
“Thanks for the food,” you tell him, flashing a grin to him that makes his features soften in a far too dangerous way for you.
So you look away, cheeks dusting in pink, and you start eating. Though the noodles are indeed spicy, you endure the burn, finding that you actually enjoy it a little bit. Maybe because it’s distracting you from the thought that you’re with your brother’s best friend - you ought to stop thinking about it anyway.
Here, Jungkook isn’t Taehyung’s best friend. Here, he’s just Jungkook, and you’re just you.
Saturday March 9th
You feel like an impostor. 
The venue for the engagement party is luxurious, nestled on the top floors of one of the many skyscrapers of Manhattan. The people in attendance are all dressed to the nines, as if trying to impress. 
Or you’re just impressed because you’ve never seen so many designer clothes in such a place before. 
The floor is made of shiny marble, the ceiling high. A huge, glass chandelier hangs from it, and multiple columns are decorated with shiny golden garlands. In one corner, in front of tall windows overlooking New York City, a photobooth is set up, but you’ve remained clear of it so far.
You and Jungkook are both aware that you can’t risk having pictures of you taken. Not when they could easily be found by Taehyung, or by other people from back at college.
Like Ria, who questioned you for hours when you said you were going to spend the weekend in New York…
You know you’ll be grilled when you get home, but you push that thought aside, much like you’ve been putting all thoughts of your regular life aside. Jungkook has been making it easy - his smile and laughter, ever so constant yesterday evening, has been grounding, and though he does seem anxious right now, he’s remained by your side, making sure to put you at ease.
You haven’t met his parents or brother yet, but he’s introduced to some cousins that approached you, some of them surprisingly only speaking Korean. Jungkook bridged the gap between you and them, translating when needed, and they have now moved to the refreshment table, adorned with a pyramid of champagne glasses you’ve imagined toppling over at least fifteen times since you’ve arrived.
You really do feel like an impostor at the sight of all the easy luxury. Of the Louboutin high heels, the Louis Vuitton purses, the expensive suits and dresses everyone is wearing. The vast room smells rich, and it truly isn’t your crowd.
“Smile, peach,” Jungkook says, nudging you with his elbow.
Your gaze slides to him, and as it’s been doing since you finished getting ready earlier, your breath catches in your throat. There’s just something about the pale pants and the light blue dress shirt he’s wearing that makes him seem even more attractive than you’ve always found him. Maybe it’s the way the fabric stretches on his chest, revealing his hard-earned muscles. Or maybe it’s the vulnerability in his gaze.
He doesn’t seem more comfortable than you in this crowd.
“You smile,” you throw back at him, and he immediately does, a low laugh shaking through him.
“Do you want something to drink?”
You look down at yourself, wincing. “I’m afraid I’ll ruin the dress.”
“So you’re just going to stand still the whole evening because you’re afraid to ruin your clothes?” he teases.
You clench your jaw, rolling your eyes. “Precisely.”
“Loosen up, peach,” Jungkook insists, and there’s something in the way he says it that makes you think maybe he needs you to.
Maybe he truly does need your support at this fancy party. So you find yourself accepting to get drinks, and you’re almost done with the first glass when Jungkook tenses next to you, freezing like a deer in headlights. 
His doe eyes are on the doors, and you look in the direction to see an older woman and man walking in, the woman’s hand on her husband’s arm. You see a little bit of Jungkook in them - the woman’s eyes are Jungkook’s, and the man has the same nose and lips - so you immediately know that they are Jungkook’s parents.
The woman scans the room, and her eyes stop on you. In the distance it’s hard to tell if she looks happy to see her son - she barely even reacts, though she tugs her husband in your direction. You glance to Jungkook, but he really does seem frozen.
“Are you okay?” you ask, resting a hand on his arm.
He startles, toying with his piercings with his tongue before nodding curtly. “All good.”
You look towards his parents, and they’ve already crossed half of the room.
“Is that…” you trail off, knowing how rhetorical the question is.
“Yep.”
“What should I do?” you ask, tugging on his arm.
His eyes snap to you, and they’re void of the warmth you usually recognize in them. They’re like chips of ice - empty, cold, and something aches in your chest.
“Just be yourself.”
You offer him a small smile. His gaze is quick to drop to it, and you see the moment it warms. You see the moment he realizes he’s not alone, not right now, even though this is all but a subterfuge.
You’re not his girlfriend, but you’ll sure as hell try to be the best friend you can be for him right now.
“Jungkook,” his mother says as she stops in front of you, and your gaze slides to her.
She looks regal, standing ramrod straight with a steely look on her face. She spares you a quick glance, cocking an eyebrow before resuming her attention on Jungkook.
“Mother,” Jungkook replies in the same cold, formal tone.
“Glad to see you came around and decided to come.”
Jungkook doesn’t reply, but he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “I wanted to introduce Y/n to the family.”
Heart beating out of your chest, you look up to Jungkook, observing the firm set of his jaw. He seems determined, like a man going into battle, and you wonder if that is what it is.
If Jungkook brought you here to rile his family up.
His mother finally truly takes you in, her eyes skimming over you. “I don’t think we know each other,” she says, and there is so much contempt in her voice you furrow your brow.
“I don’t think so,” you answer, trying to sound as polite as you possibly can. You bow your head, meeting her gaze when you straighten. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Jungkook’s father pats his wife’s hand. She lets him go, almost reluctantly, and he walks away, heading to a group of men that seem far too happy to see him.
You wonder if you should take offence to him walking away when you just tried to introduce yourself, though the way Jungkook is staring at his mother lets you know that the true opponent of this battle is the woman in front of you, and not the man that just left.
“Likewise,” she replies, and this time she doesn’t hide the contempt from her voice at all. It drips to her features, and she scrunches up her nose in disgust, looking down at the high heels you’re wearing.
A simple pair of high heels you’ve bought for your high school prom, that you’ve been reusing whenever you have the occasion.
“Nice shoes,” Jungkook’s mother says, and you can tell that she means it as an insult. 
You clench your jaw, cocking an eyebrow as you get ready to reply, but Jungkook intervenes with a stern, “Mother.”
“You thought dressing her up in a nice dress would make us forget that she’s not from our class?”
The insult is stark, and you widen your gaze as your heart rate spikes, your blood heating up in your veins.
“Excuse me?” you let out, unable to resist.
Jungkook’s mother meets your gaze. “At least she’s got a tongue on her.”
“And I’ll ask you to make a fucking effort for once,” Jungkook spits.
She frowns. “Do not curse, boy. It doesn’t suit you.”
He laughs, a short, dry sound that makes the hair dress on your arms. She clenches her jaw, a muscle feathering under the skin, and you wonder where Jungkook learned to be warm. Where he learned to smile like he’s lighter than a feather, like he’s never known any atrocities. Because standing here, you realize just how cold his upbringing must have been like.
And it’s strange. The little boy in the picture on his bedside table was all smiles, eyes crinkling with joy. You’d assumed the picture had been taken by his parents, but now that you’ve met his mother, you highly doubt she’s ever been the source of a smile on Jungkook’s lips.
While you’ve been thinking, Jungkook and his mother were stuck in a staring contest, a battle of will that Jungkook wins. Indeed, his mother sighs deeply and then turns towards you again.
“Where do you come from?” she asks.
You gulp under the scrutiny of her gaze, yet give her the answer.
“What do your parents do for a living?”
You tense, for that is an answer that even Jungkook doesn’t know. 
“My mother is a nurse,” you reply. You feel Jungkook’s curious gaze on your profile, but you resist glancing at him. “And I do not know my father.”
Jungkook’s mother blinks once, and then she focuses on her son. “Junghyun will be happy you came.”
She leaves without saying another word, and you’re left staring at her retreating form, wondering if it’s just you or if she’s the rudest person you’ve ever met.
“I apologize for this,” Jungkook says, and his arm drops from your shoulder.
You immediately miss it.
“I think I’m starting to get why you wanted me to come with you,” you say, and you finally meet his gaze.
He’s slightly pouting, lips barely jutting out, yet there’s something endearing about the expression on his features. “I honestly didn’t think she would be flat-out rude like that.” He downs what’s left of the champagne in his flute and then puts it down on the tray of a server as she walks past. “I promise we can go home as soon as Junghyun shows up and sees that I came.”
“We can stay longer too,” you reassure him. “I can handle the aristocracy.”
The frown on his features melts, and he lets out a small laugh. “The aristocracy?”
You nod. “Yeah. Because obviously we aren’t from the same class.”
“Fuck, peach,” he grumbles, shaking his head, yet there’s an amused sparkle in his gaze that makes you feel warm all of a sudden.
It’s like you forget all about his mother, and about his avoidant father. It soon becomes clear that he is avoiding Jungkook, not you, and you feel bad for the man beside you. 
He deserves a family that treats him better than the one he has, or so you believe. And it’s not like you know them at all - the dynamic is just off, and it’s unlike what you’ve personally known growing up.
If you forget about the fact that you don’t have a father and that your mother worked so much while you were growing up that you barely saw her.
Junghyun and his fiancée show up an hour later, fashionably late. You and Jungkook have been drinking more, and you feel buzzed from the alcohol, warmth swimming through your body. It’s only amplified every time you meet Jungkook’s gaze, every time he tugs you a little closer, and you think you’ll be drunk by the end of the evening, just because of him.
He’s inebriating after all.
Junghyun notices his brother across the space, and unlike his parents, his face breaks into a large grin, one that resembles that of Jungkook, and he immediately makes his way towards you. He’s much more relaxed than his parents, with an easy going vibe to him, and the way Jungkook relaxes makes you think that Junghyun, contrary to his parents, is not an asshole.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” Junghyun says as he stops in front of you, immediately pulling Jungkook into a tight embrace.
Jungkook beams under the attention of his older brother. “I thought it’d be a good surprise.”
“It sure is,” Junghyun agrees as he pulls away. His eyes slide to you, and you offer him a tentative smile that he easily reciprocates. “And you are?”
“My girlfriend,” Jungkook says before you have time to say your name. “From college.”
Junghyun nods, meeting your gaze again. “Nice to meet you.”
You echo the sentiment as his fiancée - Nara - stops next to Junghyun, politely greeting Jungkook. 
You end up speaking with the pair for a little while. They both are a lot more welcoming than Jungkook’s parents, and Jungkook seems to be vibrating with happiness by the time they have to move away, needing to greet the other guests in the room. Meanwhile the sun has set outside, and you take a moment to admire the view as Jungkook goes to grab a refill for you both.
“I must admit he has a lot of nerves to bring you here,” a voice says next to you, and you turn to notice his mother, her arms folded on her chest.
Though your heart skips a painful, anxious beat in your chest, you only face the world outside again. “And why is that?”
She scoffs. “He’s technically engaged to someone.”
The world stops turning, and you glance at his mother. She sports a small, wicked smile, like she knows Jungkook didn’t tell you.
“What do you mean?” you can’t help but ask, your hands turning clammy.
She shrugs. “His father and I have discussed it with another family. We’ve deemed it better if they marry.”
“Does he even know her?” you spit.
She chuckles condescendingly. “Look at you. You really think you fit in our world? Your mother clearly hasn’t raised you for it.”
You fully face Jungkook’s mother, nails digging in your palms as you clench your fists. “I’ll have you know that my mother raised me well, and raised me to know privilege where it is. Just because you happened to be born rich doesn’t make you any better.”
Her gaze widens, and you see Jungkook walking back towards you, two glasses of champagne in hands. He notices his mother, a muscle feathering under the skin of his jaw, and you don’t care to stay next to her before you start heading his way.
You meet in the middle of the room, and you wonder if your vision has grown blurry. You only understand your eyes have filled with tears when Jungkook curses under his breath, glaring at his mother over your head.
“What did she tell you?” he asks, voice gentle.
You shrug. “Nothing,” you lie, blinking the tears away.
But she didn’t tell you nothing, did she? 
“I’m really sorry,” he apologizes. “She’s…”
“It’s whatever,” you insist, interrupting him. “I just want to spend time with you.”
You just want to spend time with him because you’ve learned he’s technically engaged, if his mother wasn’t lying.
Does he even know it?
You successfully blink your tears away as Jungkook hands you a champagne glass, which you down in one long gulp.
“I’m flattered, peach,” he teases.
The champagne bubbles down your throat, and you swallow with a scrunch of your nose. When you’ve finished the glass, you hand it back to Jungkook, who takes it with one eyebrow cocked. He looks like he wants to say something, but then his brother starts to speak with a mic. The room ushers to silence, forcing everyone to listen to the speech. Jungkook’s frowning, eyes still on you, but after a few seconds he turns to look at his brother.
You wish you’d be able to listen to the speech, to focus on it, but all you can do is keep on blinking back the tears from snapping at Jungkook’s mother.
Here’s to making bad first impressions. 
And it’s not like it truly matters - you’re not even Jungkook’s real girlfriend. You’re just a friend, someone he brought along as a shield from his family. 
Or so you’re starting to realize. You can’t even blame him. If your mother was remotely similar to his, you’d always make sure to go home with someone to support you. 
The least you can do is be that for Jungkook.
When Junghyun finishes his speech, his fiancée moves closer to him, and they share a sweet embrace that looks a little too practiced for it to be genuine. Or it might just be you - if it had been you in their position, you’re pretty sure you would have wanted to kiss your fiancé stupid. But then again, you reckon it might be improper in this social class.
Jungkook’s mother might have a point - you really weren’t raised to know how to act around rich people.
Except Jungkook, that is, but that’s because you didn’t know he was rich before yesterday, and you doubt he cares anyway.
“Are you hungry?” Jungkook asks as servers start walking around with different appetizers, all of them looking far fancier than anything you’ve eaten in your life.
“Huh,” you let out as one of the servers stops next to you. “What’s this?” 
“Crab cakes,” the server answers, flashing you a quick, polite smile.
You glance at Jungkook. “I’m allergic to seafood.”
He snorts, and then wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Let’s go find something that doesn’t have seafood in it.”
You end up finding small vegetarian burgers, and though they are barely bite-size, you enjoy a couple of them despite their dryness. It’s not enough to satiate your hunger, and especially not enough for Jungkook, so when he suggests going out to a restaurant nearby, you jump on the occasion to say yes.
“Then wait for me here,” Jungkook indicates, and to your surprise he kisses your forehead before slipping away, heading towards where you can see his brother and father conversing. While he speaks to them, probably explaining that you’re going to go eat somewhere else, you admire the view again.  Cars zoom down in the streets below, each and every one of them carrying a different person with their own little life.
You feel small so high over the city. It’s sobering, and you feel like your mind is clearing from the buzz of the alcohol, from the remnants of the guilt you had for snapping at Jungkook’s mother. 
You glance over your shoulder, eyeing Jungkook as he stands as if frozen, his brother speaking in his ear. Junghyun slides his gaze to you, and you offer him a tentative smile that the man ignores. You’d even think that his eyes harden, but it’s hard to tell in the distance. Especially as he pulls away from Jungkook, claps his shoulder once and then walks away, his father in tow.
Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, and you wonder what it is that Junghyun said. Because the moment Jungkook turns and you see the look on his face, you know it must have been something harsh.
Jungkook looks like he wants to cry. It’s so vulnerable, so different from his usual cocky persona that you immediately make your way towards him.
“Are you okay?” you ask.
Jungkook just blinks looking at you, his eyes shining from unshed tears. You grab his hand, squeezing once, forgetting all about his mother being an asshole to you. No, all there is right now is Jungkook, and you want to make sure he finishes this evening with a smile on his face.
He deserves it after all.
“Hey, so where’s that restaurant you mentioned?” you query, switching tactics. 
Jungkook keeps looking at you for a few seconds, but he soon blinks a couple of times more, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go.”
He pulls you behind him in the crowd, and you don’t know what look he has on his face, but people literally jump out of the way. He’s walking quickly, and you struggle to follow him, but you know he needs to leave.
You’ve seen the sorrow in his gaze, and you don’t blame him for wanting to get away. Indeed, you just want to flee in the night too, and you’re thankful the moment the elevator doors slide to a close after you’ve retrieved your coats, and you’re finally left in a quiet silence of just you and him.
Jungkook looks at you, gaze heavy, and a second later he’s on you, hands cupping your cheeks as he backs you into the wall. You startle, yet you’re quick to melt in his touch, to kiss him back with the same intensity he offers you.
His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and you let him in, moaning softly as he drives his knee between your legs.
You didn’t expect him to kiss you. Especially not when nothing happened last night, some sort of awkwardness lingering in the air from being in his childhood room. But he kisses you languidly, all tongue and lips, his piercings pressing indents in your lower lip, and warmth pools at your core as the elevator goes down and down.
Anyone could walk in and catch you kissing, yet it doesn’t deter Jungkook, and neither does it deter you. Indeed, it only spurs you more, and your hands drop to his waist so that you can pull him closer.
The moment ends when the door slides open to reveal the ground floor, and Jungkook steps away from you, eyes dark with lust and shadows you don’t want to interpret. He smooths his shirt, offers you a tight-lipped smile that makes your heart clench in your chest, and then he’s walking out.
You’re quick to follow him, cheeks burning as someone at the reception eyes the two of you. You ignore them, hoping they can’t see how your lips are swollen from the kiss, and you all but have to jog to catch up with Jungkook by the time he reaches the doors.
He holds it open for you, yet you can’t meet his gaze as you step outside. Not when the engagement party was such a shitshow, not after he kissed you like that only to leave without saying anything.
The bustle of the New York City life engulfs you as you step out on the street, Jungkook in tow. To your surprise, his large hands close around yours, and you glance up to meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry about…” he trails off, motioning over his shoulder.
You purse your lips. “About kissing me?”
The shadows partially lift in his gaze, warmth replacing them. “I’m not sorry about that at all,” he teases. “But I meant, about my family.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him, squeezing his hand. “I’m happy I could be there with you.”
He remains silent for a few seconds of you holding each other’s gaze on the sidewalk, and then he cracks a smile, though it doesn’t entirely reach his eyes. “What would I do without you, mmh?”
You laugh, and it sounds truer than it feels. “What would you do indeed?” you tease.
He chuckles, pulling you closer so that he can hug you. You wonder who needs it the most - him, or you? Because the second his arms wrap around you, you snake yours around his waist, hiding your face in his chest. He smells good - like Dior Sauvage, you think - and for a moment you just want to stay right here, in his arms.
Until his stomach grumbles, a low rumble against your cheek that makes you burst out laughing.
“Someone’s hungry,” you tease, looking up at him.
He meets your gaze, nodding once. “Peach, I’m fucking starving.”
That makes you laugh even more, lifting the heaviness of the atmosphere somehow, and it’s with a smile tickling your lips that you make your way to the restaurant - a kebab place on the first floor of another skyscraper. You eat your fill, laughing around with Jungkook, doing your best to keep the shadows out of his gaze.
But they never fully lift, and you’re not close enough to him to ask what his brother told him that upset him so much. 
Mostly, you’re not close enough to ask him if he’s truly supposed to marry someone, or if his mother just said that to scare you off. It’s like walking a tightrope, and you’re one wrong move from falling to your death.
Yesterday, you would have said that Jungkook would catch you but today, the haunted look that creeps up on his gaze once in a while makes you think that perhaps he wouldn’t catch you at all. And though it saddens you, you don’t say anything.
You’ll have a better occasion later. 
At least that’s what you tell yourself as Jungkook loosely holds your hand after the restaurant, while you walk around aimlessly. He’s telling you stories about growing up, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he occasionally falls eerily silent, you’d think that he’s happy right now. He looks the part, beaming at you whenever your gazes connect, and it’s too easy to reciprocate.
You think it’s a good thing - you’re comfortable with Jungkook, even if the whole engagement party was weird. It only gets better when you near a club, and Jungkook stops with a mischievous look in his eyes that finally looks a lot more like the Jungkook that you know from college.
“Do you want to go clubbing?” he says.
You snort. “It’s not even nine pm.”
“And?” he presses.
“You want to go clubbing this early?”
He shrugs, grabbing your hand again to pull you towards the doorman. “We can sit and chat before the party starts.”
As a matter of fact, the party is already started inside the club. Indeed, it’s like you step in an alternate universe the moment you walk in, the crowd thick as they sway to the beat. You only understand that it’s a concert of some famous DJ when you’re stopped at the coat check because you don’t have any tickets.
To your luck, the girl informs you that there are a few tickets left, and you insist on paying since Jungkook bought you the overpriced dress you’re wearing.
The one you’ll likely ruin while partying.
The thought sobers you a little, up until Jungkook, buzzing with excitement, pulls you towards the bar after you’ve left your coats at the coat check.
“This is going to be fun,” he says over the loud music. 
You nod, though your mind is lingering somewhere back at the engagement party. “Are you okay?” you can’t help but ask.
Jungkook falls serious, clenching his jaw once. “It’s about my family, isn’t it?”
“Yes and no,” you say, worrying at some dry skin on your bottom lip. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Tonight has been… weird.”
It’s unfortunately your turn to order, as the barman stops in front of you, and Jungkook quickly orders two gin and tonic for you both before resuming his attention on you.
“I know,” he agrees. “Family events are always weird around here.” He winces, shrugging his shoulders. “And if you want to speak about it, we can tomorrow. But right now I really just want to have a nice evening with you.”
He looks hopeful, lips jutting out in the trace of a pout, and his doe eyes hold so much softness you find yourself folding immediately.
He’s right - you want to have a nice evening with him too, and forget the shitshow that the engagement party was.
“Well then,” you say, offering him a corner smile that hints at mischief. “I hope you’re ready to party.”
He brightens, like the stars shining when there’s no light pollution. “Damn right, peach.”
The barman puts your drinks on the bar, and Jungkook hands you your glass. You grab the lime on the rim of the glass, squeezing it in the drink properly before dropping it amongst the ice cubes. Jungkook watches you, mirroring you after a few seconds.
“To partying,” you say, raising your glass.
Jungkook echoes, clinking his glass with yours and you both drink, the alcohol fresh and cold on your tongue. 
You linger by the bar long enough to finish your first drinks, talking about everything and nothing. By the time you’re taking your last sip, Jungkook is reminiscing about a party last semester, where Taehyung had tried hitting on a girl only to get rejected.
“He complained about it for weeks,” you remember. “Even though he was sleeping with…” You frown, unable to remember the girl’s name. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
Jungkook laughs. “Tae fucks around too much to remember everyone, I know.”
“As if you’re any better,” you tease, pushing him playfully.
He pouts, eyebrows bunching together as his doe eyes narrow. “I’m better now.”
“Are you?”
He moves closer to you, and your heart trips on itself in your chest as he rests his large hand on your waist, pulling you closer. “I definitely am.”
You don’t know who makes the move first. You just know that a second later, you’re cupping Jungkook’s cheeks, and his lips are on yours again. This time, he tastes of gin and lime, and a swipe of his tongue on your lower lip makes you sigh, your hands sliding to the back of his head to get lost in his soft hair. His hand rests flat on your back, as if to keep you from stepping away.
Like you would.
You don’t ever want to step away from Jungkook. Tonight, you think it doesn’t matter that he’s Taehyung’s best friend. It doesn’t matter that he is supposedly engaged to someone else. Right now, it feels like he’s yours - you’re foolish enough to believe that he is.
“Let’s dance,” Jungkook murmurs against your lips when he pulls away, his forehead resting against yours.
“Let’s grab something else to drink first.”
You grab Jungkook’s hand, pulling him closer to the bar again. He follows, his thumb soothingly rubbing circles on the back of your hand, and he doesn’t let go when you lean against the bar, attracting the barman’s attention.
“Are you up for some Jager bombs?” you suggest.
He smirks, looking downright devilish with the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I’d never say no to Jager Bombs.”
That’s how you find yourself downing two shots each, and you’re getting pretty tipsy by the time the show starts, and Jungkook pulls you onto the dancefloor. You dance and dance, the atmosphere electric, Jungkook’s laugh so contagious you think you might have caught a happy disease. Because you can’t stop smiling, you can’t stop laughing. 
It’s like the engagement party never happened and frankly, it’s what you needed. 
Jungkook pulls you closer in the middle of the crowd, kissing you languidly. You’re quick to kiss him back, to push your tongue in his mouth the moment his lips part to allow entry. He grunts in the kiss, in the intensity that takes on the two of you even though you’re in public.
You want him so bad. You’ve always wanted him badly, but right now it’s making your blood sing in your veins.
But the evening is young still, and so you return to dancing, your back pressed against Jungkook. You sway your hips to the beat of the music, and he guides your motions, head hanging low. He occasionally presses soft kisses on the side of your face, and your eyes flutter shut in contentment.
If you’d die right now, you think you’d die happy.
“Peach,” Jungkook whispers.
Your eyes flutter open as you glance at him. The intensity in his gaze makes you feel smaller than a speck of dust. “What?”
“Should we go home?” he asks.
You glance towards the scene, where the DJ is clearly in the middle of his set. “The show’s not over yet.”
“I know.” He nips at your jaw, and you tilt your head to the side to allow him access to your neck. He’s quick to press an open-mouthed kiss there.
You turn in his hold, finding his lips again. This kiss is hotter, like fire blazing bright, and you, too, want to head home. You want to get lost in him, in this moment of him being yours out in public like this.
“Fuck, JK,” you whisper when you pull away, breathing raggedly.
“What?”
“Kissing you like this, where anyone can see…” you trail off, glancing at the crowd.
Nobody is paying you any attention, yet you feel like you’re the center of the universe right now. Or maybe that’s Jungkook - he’s the center of your universe.
“It’s turning me on,” you finish in a breathy sentence meant just for him.
“Peach,” he says, voice low and husky. It ignites even more warmth inside of you, and you think you’re about to melt in his touch. “Then I’ll bring you here more often. I’ll show everyone that you’re mine, mmh?”
That you’re mine. You like the sound of those words in his mouth far too much, even though part of you wants to reply that you’re your own self, and don’t belong to anyone.
Perhaps you want to belong to him, and that in and of itself is a far too dangerous thought. But New York shines tonight, and you feel infinite.
You are infinite, as long as he’s by your side.
You stay for the rest of the DJ’s set, despite you both wanting to go home. Jungkook is touchy, yet respectfully so as you dance, never really touching you where you want him, but his hands lingering near every fiery spot in your body. The Uber ride home is spent in tense silence, as is the walk up to the elevators of his building.
He holds your hand through it all, refusing to let go, and you like it.
You like everything about this moment, right now. Like you’ve stepped into an alternate universe where you really are his, and you pray you’ll never have to leave.
The elevator doors slide open, and Jungkook pulls you in. You’re disappointed when you notice a middle-aged woman already riding the elevator from the underground parking lot, and Jungkook politely nods to her as he presses the button for the highest floor.
Fortunately, the woman gets off on the eighth floor, and you’re left alone with Jungkook. He’s quick to spring into action, pushing you back against the wall so that he can steal a languid kiss of tongues and lips, of getting lost in him until you fully lose touch with reality.
“Fuck,” you breathe as Jungkook leaves a trail of hot kisses from your jaw to your neck. 
He sucks a hickey below your ear, and you can’t help but moan lightly as you drag your hands through his hair, leaving it dishevelled.
The doors of the elevator slide open, and Jungkook startles, taking a step back from you. One glance down reveals the proof of his attraction for you, and you really are aflame, burning from the inside out.
“I need to take a shower,” you say. 
A cold, cold shower, before you combust irreparably.
“Okay,” Jungkook lets out, and he grabs your hand again to pull you to the door. 
You don’t know how he does it, but he refrains from kissing you when you’re in. You’d expected him to jump on you - you practically wanted him to - but Jungkook, ever so the gentleman, only leads you inside and to his room. 
You take in the city skyline, the beauty of being so high you feel like you’re flying. The city sparkles, lights shining on and on, and you glance at Jungkook.
His eyes shine with undiluted lust and another emotion you can’t quite put your finger on. You just know it’s ten thousand times better than the shadows that had lingered in his gaze after the engagement party, and you want to cling to it.
“Do you want to take a shower with me?” you suggest as he helps you out of your coat.
“Want me to wash your hair?” he teases, flicking your nose.
He’s your Jungkook again, and an excited thrill goes through you. 
“Yes,” you say, smirking. “Maybe if you’re nice I’ll wash your back.”
He narrows his gaze, though his lips curve upwards. “I’m always nice.” He puts your coat away in the walk-in wardrobe, emerging without his own coat, too.
“Are you?”
You let out a yelp as he bends to pick you up bridal style. “Always,” he says, pecking your cheek once as you wrap your arms around his neck.
“You scared the shit out of me,” you grumble as he carries you to the bathroom, putting you down on the counter. 
“I’d say I’m sorry but I’m not even a little bit sorry,” he teases, and he steals a quick kiss on your lips before stepping away from you to turn on the shower.
You watch him as he does so - he’s beautiful, with his dishevelled hair and big doe eyes he casts on you as he glances over his shoulder. He’s still smiling, his features so soft you can’t help but smile back, your heart fluttering in your chest.
“How hot do you want the shower to be?” he asks.
You smirk. “What kind of hot are you talking about?”
He rolls his eyes, though his light laugh fills the air. “Water temperature, dummy.”
“Doesn’t matter,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “Just put it how you like it.”
He nods, and he does so, adjusting the settings until the multiple shower heads are on, and steam soon starts to waft out of the shower.
Jungkook walks back to you, toying with his piercings. You scan his features, lingering on his eyebrow piercing, and then spread your thighs so that he can step between your legs. He does so, wrapping his arms around your middle, and you rest your head on his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
He picks you up, putting you down on the floor. “Gotta get you out of your dress, mmh?”
Your heart once again hitches in your chest, and goosebumps rise on your arms as Jungkook lightly brushes his fingers up your skin.
“Turn around, peach,” he tells you.
You obey, and you watch yourself in the mirror as Jungkook unzips your dress. There’s something so intimate about the moment that your pulse skyrockets, butterflies making a mess of your stomach.
Jungkook finishes unzipping the dress, and he pushes it off your shoulders, pressing a kiss on the naked skin he’s revealed on the back of your shoulder. You feel apprehensive, like he hasn’t seen you naked before, and you gulp as he lets go of the dress, and it falls to the floor to pool around your ankles.
“You know,” Jungkook breathes as you shiver, the air colder than you expect. Your nipples perk on your chest, and Jungkook is quick to wrap his arms around you so that he can tease the sensitive buds with his fingers. “Every time I see you, you get more beautiful.”
“Jk…” you breathe out, cheeks burning under the intensity of his gaze.
“It’s true,” he insists. He turns you around, his eyes lost in yours. “There’s something about you…” he trails off.
He never finishes the sentence as you stand on your tiptoe, pulling him down by the collar of his shirt. Your mouths collide, and you sigh against the plump softness of him, kissing him softly, tenderly. He kisses you back just as softly, his hands holding you by the waist.
“Peach…” he sighs.
Your eyes flutter open to find him already looking at you, and you do feel like the most beautiful woman in the world when he looks at you like that.
“I think you’re supposed to undress too,” you whisper.
He chuckles softly, taking a step back from you. “Wanna help?”
You gulp again, your throat feeling dry, yet you raise trembling hands in the space between you so that you can reach for the buttons of his shirt. You focus on the task at hand, on every inch of honey skin revealed by the buttons coming undone. Jungkook’s intense gaze doesn’t leave your face as you undress him, and soon you’re pushing his shirt off him, resting your hands flat on his chest.
His heart is racing under your palms, the only indication that this is affecting him just as badly as it’s affecting you.
You meet his gaze as he takes charge of taking off his pants, and soon they’re on the floor with your dress and his shirt, and you both stand in your underwear, gazes embracing.
“I’m so going to take my time with you tonight,” he breathes, cupping your cheek. His thumb gently swipes at your skin, and you instinctively lean your head into his palm.
“Yeah?” you let out.
He tilts your head back with a finger under your chin, and then he’s kissing you again, as if to prove it to you with actions rather than words. “Definitely,” he says the second he pulls away. And then his hands go down your body, slowly, finding the hem of your panties. “Can I take this off?”
You nod, and he drops to his knees. Your eyes widen, yet he only busies himself with taking your underwear off, helping you step out of it once it’s around your ankles. He gets up again after, and he pushes his boxers down.
You’ve been avoiding looking at the obvious bulge in his underwear, but his dick stands proud and tall the second you glance down, already leaking precum. 
He’s been wanting you badly, and it shows.
“Shit, Jungkook,” you breathe.
“I know,” he lets out. “I’m fucking hard for you.” He chuckles, and grabs your face to force you to meet his gaze again. “From the mess I saw in your panties, I know you’re already soaked for me too.” He pecks your lips, and then your forehead. “But shower first, right?”
You kiss again, and this time he sucks your lower lip into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth.
“Shower first,” you repeat the second you pull away.
He smirks, winking at you, and then he walks over to the shower, leaving you there with your heart beating out of your chest. You take a deep breath, trying to tame the wild beats, and soon enough you follow Jungkook, right when he steps in the shower. He holds the glass door open for you, closing it behind you once you’re in, hot water splashing you.
You face Jungkook, and he looks at you with his head tilted to the side, a smirk playing on the corners of his lips.
“What?” you ask.
“Nothing,” he answers. “Pass me the soap?”
You nod, gulping, and you look away from him to find the soap. You grab it, handing it to Jungkook, and he gently takes it out of your hands.
“Turn around,” he tells you for the second time tonight. “I’ll wash your back.”
“Shouldn’t you start with my hair?” you ask.
He chuckles. “So bossy. Wet your hair then.”
You obey, and soon enough Jungkook is rubbing shampoo on your scalp, and your eyes flutter shut as you relax into the touch. He rinses your hair when he’s done, and then takes care of the conditioner.
“You like being pampered, don’t you?” he teases.
“Only if you’re the one pampering me,” you fire back. 
He laughs, and he presses a soft kiss on your forehead again. “Then I guess I need to pamper you more.”
You’re falling. You know exactly what’s happening, and you wonder if he feels it too.
“Let me take care of you,” you say once Jungkook is done with washing your hair.
He smiles down at you, nodding once. “Okay.”
And so you wash him, cleaning his back first. You teasingly rub his ass, and Jungkook throws you a glare over his shoulder that makes you burst out laughing. Once you’re done he turns around, and you gently rub his chest, a smile still curving your lips upwards as you fall in comfortable silence.
He isn’t so hard anymore. Yet, when your hands get lower on his abdomen, his dick twitches, and he’s quick to get hard again. You cock an eyebrow, looking up at him.
“I barely touch you and this is how you react?” you tease.
He grabs your jaw, his grip firm. “And now you’ll clean my dick too, won’t you?”
You blush, nodding once as he lets go of your jaw to cup your cheek instead. You wrap a hand around the base of his dick, and then you stroke him once. His lips part, and he pulls on his piercings before looking down at himself. 
“Let me…” he trails off, and you nod, stepping away from him to let him clean himself. You quickly wash yourself as he does so, cheeks burning so much you wouldn’t be surprised if you were purple.
Once you’re both cleaned, you face Jungkook again, and he offers you a soft smile. Unable to resist, you look down at his dick, reaching for him again.
“Now that you’re clean…” you let out, and you smirk. “Maybe I can actually take care of you?”
You don’t know where the courage comes from, but you’re not going to waste it. Indeed, you immediately drop to your knees, and Jungkook redirects the shower heads away from your face.
“Yeah?” he lets out. “You want to suck me?”
You nod, biting your bottom lip, and then you jerk him off once, eyes moving to his dick. It’s pretty, though not as hard as he was earlier, and you tentatively swirl your tongue around his tip, before sucking on it lightly.
Jungkook curses under his breath, leaning a hand against the wall as if looking for support. “Don’t be shy,” he says.
You smirk again, and this time you drag your tongue on the side of his dick, from base to top, before wrapping your lips around him again. You hollow your cheeks as you take most of him in your mouth, and Jungkook moans softly when he hits the back of your throat.
“Shit…” he lets out.
You suck harder as you pull almost all the way off, and then you truly get to work, eyes fluttering shut as you suck him, jerking him off in time with the motions of your head. Jungkook holds your head, letting you set the rhythm you feel comfortable with, and soon you’re moaning on his dick, the vibrations making him curse.
You take him all the way in, looking up at him despite the tears blinding your gaze. He’s got his head thrown back, lips parted as he breathes heavily, chest moving rapidly. You wonder if you’d be able to make him come like this, and you suck harder, holding in the gag reflex that’s threatening to interrupt your ministrations on him.
“Peach,” he moans, and then he pulls out of your mouth.
A string of spit connects his tip to your lips, and you’re quick to lick at it, to taste the precum that’s dripping from his slit.
“That feels good?” you ask.
He nods. “Way too much,” he replies, chuckling breathlessly. “I’m going to fall in love with your mouth if you keep sucking me like that.”
You don’t need more to spur you into action, and you go back to sucking him, pouring everything you have in the action. His dick gets harder and harder in your mouth, and you know he has to be close. So you tentatively tease his balls with your free hand, and he moans as you squeeze lightly.
“Peach,” he lets out, and it sounds whiny. “Stop. I want to fuck you now.”
You pull out, offering him an innocent pout as you keep jerking him off quickly. “You don’t think you’d be able to go for round two?”
He chuckles, slightly shaking his head. “Not when I drank. And I really just want to make you feel good too.”
Only for that reason do you let him pull you up to your feet, and you reluctantly let go of his dick as he pushes you against the tile wall, mouth immediately finding yours in a ravaging kiss. You moan as he pushes his tongue in your mouth, and you go back to jerking him off, unable to keep your hands off him.
He hisses as he pulls away from the kiss, and then he glances towards his discarded pants on the floor beyond the glass door of the shower. “I have condoms in there,” he reveals, and then he meets your gaze again. “But you deserve better than to be fucked in a shower, mmh?”
You gulp, nodding once as he steals another quick kiss on your lips, and then he turns off the shower. You stand in the steam for a few seconds, holding each other’s gaze, and then Jungkook pulls you out of the shower, wrapping a towel around you. 
You’re quick to dry yourself, lust and desire clouding your mind, and you don’t hesitate when Jungkook grabs your hand, pulling you towards his bedroom. The walk-in is cold as you step out of the bathroom, but you busy yourself with watching the strong muscles of his back, and the tattoos on his arm. It’s distracting enough, and soon Jungkook turns to face you again, kissing you deeply before pulling away.
“Do you want me to close the curtains?” he asks as he steps away from you, enough so that your eyes fall to his erection.
“You think people can see us?” you let out, casting a quick glance towards the tall windows, and the city beyond.
“Maybe, if they’re looking up here,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s never bothered me, but I’ve never been with anyone in this bed, so…”
Your gaze widens. “You’ve never fucked here?”
You think it’s blush creeping on his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck. “I’ve never brought a girl here at all.”
You let out a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry what?”
He winks at you, eyes going down your frame. They stop on your perked nipples, and he toys with his piercings.
“You’re the first girl who’s ever come here,” he says. “The first one I’ll fuck in this bed. And maybe I do want the city to see me fucking you. I want them to see how beautiful you are when you come.”
You’re speechless as he strolls towards you, and his mouth collides with yours, his lips moving like he’s a starved man against yours. He pushes you towards the bed, and you fall on it the second the back of your legs hit it. He looks at you, wetting his lips, and then winks.
“I’ll be right back.”
He disappears back into the walk-in, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he retrieves a condom from his wallet. He inspects the tinfoil package on the way back, making sure that the condom is safe to use, and then he rips it open, pulling the condom out.
He puts it on, rolling it down his dick as you watch with your heart beating wildly again as it knows what’s to come.
No one has ever fucked you as good as Jungkook, and you can tell he won’t disappoint tonight either. No, the intensity in his gaze can’t be mistaken, and the second he kneels between your legs you spread your thighs wide open, offering yourself on a silver platter.
“Already?” he teases, and he strokes himself slowly. “I thought you’d need a little bit of foreplay before.”
“Trust me,” you let out. “I’m already wet enough for you to rearrange my guts.”
He smirks, and he moves closer, close enough to rub his dick on your folds. “You are.” He says it like he’s surprised, but the second he starts rubbing his dick on your clit you’re gone, unable to form logical thoughts. “So you want me to fuck you? To rearrange your guts?”
“Jungkook,” is all you can reply.
He teases your folds again, pushes in just enough for his tip to part them. “Tell me what you want, peach.”
“I want you,” you say, and you don’t care how whiny you sound.
You feel like you’ll die if he doesn’t fuck you into oblivion.
“Where?” he asks, and he pulls away to rub his dick on your clit again.
You clench your jaw, reaching for his dick, but Jungkook is quick to grab your hand with his free one, pinning your wrist over your head.
“Be nice, mmh?” he says in your ear, and then he straightens.
“I want you inside of me, Jungkook.”
“Yeah?” He pushes in, though he stops when just his tip is in. “Like this?”
“Fuck, stop teasing,” you grumble.
Jungkook laughs, and a second later he slams home, his dick splitting you open as he pushes almost all of himself inside of you. You moan, your eyes fluttering shut, and he barely gives you time to adjust before he grabs your waist, and he starts pounding you, setting an unforgiving pace.
His thrusts are quick and hard, and you see stars almost immediately, your walls clenching around him. It doesn’t slow him down, only makes him readjust himself until he hits a better angle, and you moan loudly as he drags against the sweetest spot inside of you.
“Jungkook,” you moan.
He bends down, slowing just long enough to lean on his elbow, and then he holds your shoulders as he jackhammers into you again, so hard his bed bangs into the wall repeatedly.
There’s no one to hear you fucking here. And he knows it - it’s like he’s keen on rearranging your guts, and you’re a whining, moaning mess as he fucks you hard. You hold onto his back, nails digging in his skin and Jungkook grunts in your ears as his pace never falters.
You know he’s got good stamina, but tonight feels different, like he’ll fuck you until the sun rises.
“Shit, peach,” Jungkook lets out, and he pulls out of you so suddenly you’re left gasping for air.
“Wh-” you start, but he flips you over, repositioning himself so that he can push inside of you again. 
He doesn’t move right away, instead massaging your ass cheeks as your walls clench around his dick, begging for more. He slaps your ass, not hard enough to hurt but enough to sting, and you clutch the bed sheets, pushing your hips back into him.
“You want some control, mmh?” he asks, and he pulls back just enough to allow you more movement.
It doesn’t take you long before you take advantage of it, fucking yourself back on him, rolling your hips when he hits your cervix. 
“You’re so big,” you let out on a whine. “So deep.”
“And you take me so well, peach.” He slaps your ass again, massaging the sting away. “Like your pussy was made for me.”
“It was,” you reply right away.
Jungkook thrusts once, and you rock forward on the bed from the intensity of his motion. Luckily for you, he was holding your waist, and so his dick doesn’t leave you empty.
“Good girl,” he says, so low it sounds like a growl, and then he’s back to pounding inside of you, and you’re a mess, trying to hold yourself together as you clutch the sheets.
Jungkook leans on one hand, snapping his hips into you again and again, and he wraps his free hand under you, blindly searching for your clit. The second he touches the sensitive bundle of nerves you moan loudly again, and he doesn’t need more to start rubbing figures on you, quick circles that send you into orbit so fast you barely realize your orgasm has hit you until you come down from the high, legs shaking as your vision keeps going in and out of focus.
Jungkook stops moving for a few seconds, bending down to press a feathersoft kiss on the side of your face. “You came hard,” he states.
“Holy fuck,” is all you can reply.
“One day, I want to feel you come on my dick without a condom on,” he says, and then he’s fucking you again, though this time he’s clearly chasing his own high.
Yet it feels good, far too good, and you come again - did you actually stop coming in the first place - as he rams his hips into yours. Jungkook milks it out of you, whispering filthy praises to you all along, and once he’s sure you’ve calmed down, he pulls out, flipping you on your back again.
He steals a kiss on your lips as he pushes in again, and this time he fucks you slower, deeper, lips never leaving yours. You lose trembling hands in his hair, run them along his back, and you wrap your legs around his waist for him to fuck you deeper. He doesn’t disappoint, and you take all of him in you as he pushes in, and then pulls almost all the way out.
“I’ll fall in love with your pussy,” Jungkook whispers against you. 
He rests his forehead against yours, and your heart fills with far too many emotions - none you can voice. 
“JK…”
“Peach,” he answers in the same tone, and then he kisses you again. The second he breaks from the kiss he straightens, going back to kneeling between your legs. “Now be nice and let me come, mmh?”
“Come for me.”
“On it.”
You don’t know when he comes. All you know is that you’re swimming in far too much bliss when he starts fucking you hard again, and you lose touch with your body. It’s like you’re floating somewhere close to the ceiling, or maybe amongst the stars up above. You’re floating, and Jungkook grunts and curses as he fucks you, his motions growing sloppier, and soon he stills deep inside of you, hands holding your waist as he releases loads and loads of cum in the condom.
You wish he’d come inside of you so you’d feel it drip out of you when he pulls out. It’s a dirty thought to have, yet you can’t help it - not when you’re literally swimming in ecstasy, feeling like you’re buzzing.
Jungkook lies down next to you, resting a hand on your stomach as you try to regain your breath. It takes you a while - long enough for him to kiss the side of your face and promise he’ll be back as he disappears in the bathroom - but you do come down from the high, the bedroom and the city beyond the windows finally coming back into focus.
It’s raining. You didn’t realize it before, but raindrops are racing each other on the window, and you get lost admiring the view as Jungkook cleans himself in the bathroom.
He comes back with a wet washcloth for you to clean yourself, and you thank him as he offers it to you. You know you have to go pee before you sleep though, so you brave the walk to the bathroom, legs feeling like jelly under you. You manage to make it to the bathroom and back, and Jungkook welcomes you back into bed with a tired smile on his lips.
“Come here,” he says, and he opens his arms for you to nestle in his embrace.
You do so, pushing one leg between his as you wrap one arm around his waist.
“Feeling okay?” Jungkook asks.
“I think I’ll need weeks to recover,” you tease, and Jungkook’s answering laugh makes you feel like you’re the luckiest girl in the universe.
“Does that mean I can’t fuck you for a few weeks?” he asks, and you hear the pout in his voice.
It makes you smile against him.
“Mmmh,” you let out. “Nah, I want you to fuck me like this again tomorrow.”
He laughs again, and his arms tighten around you. “Then we better get a good night of sleep. We need to drive back home tomorrow.”
Back home. Together. Because, even if he’s Taehyung’s best friend, which you’ve conveniently forgotten all weekend, he’s also your roommate.
You share a home, and you think there’s beauty in that thought.
You yawn, nuzzling your face in his chest. “I don’t know about you but I’ll sleep like a rock.”
“And snore?”
“I don’t snore,” you answer, frowning slightly.
Jungkook chuckles and then kisses the top of your head. “You snore a little. Not as much as me though.”
“Tell me about it,” you complain, even though his soft snores had acted like white noise yesterday, helping you fall asleep despite the unfamiliar environment.
He yawns, pulling even closer. “Peach?”
You hum in answer.
“Thank you for this weekend,” he whispers. “I don’t know how I would have done it without you.”
“Jungkook…” you trail off, wanting to argue.
“I’m serious,” he insists. “You’re…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence, and you pull away just enough so that you can look up at his face. “I’m what?”
“You’re you,” he answers, as if that explains anything.
And when you see the softness clinging to his gaze, you think maybe it does.
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jillsandwhichs · 2 months
Text
RE Character x Reader Smutshot Collection , Chap 3 , Crazy girl, even crazier husband
Masterlist
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Pairing: Fem!reader x Leon Kennedy
Summary: Your husband and you go to the movie theatre to watch a new horror movie but this man just can't keep his hands off of you
Status of your guy's relationship in this oneshot: Married
WC: 6.1k
Type: NSFW
Warnings: Zoowee mama there are so many, Making out, Fingering, Tongue licking, P in V, Sorta public sex ?? , No protection, Biting, He fucks you hard in an employee storage room so enjoy :p
A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you
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Window's rolled down, music on low, his hand on your thick thigh, your husband was driving you two to the move theatre in town. They were hosting some new random horror movie and the both of you thought it looked interesting, the idea to go on a date and watch it together randomly came up in a conversation last night. He's often times working so going out like this is rare, but whenever it happens, you absolutely cherish it, and so does he.
You could feel his fingers playing with the end of your skirt, occasionally gripping your thigh, his hand even leaving a mark. This is what he'd always do whenever he was driving and you were with him, he'd get you all riled up, all soaked up, and it's tortuous. The way his hand would slide up beneath your skirt was so painful, not literally, but he never even touched you, that made it painful. And half of the time, he doesn't even end up fucking you til way later or he doesn't at all. Such a man sometimes.
He wouldn't even acknowledge how horny you are either, he just knows, he loves making you feel all good inside just you leave you with nothing.
"We're almost there, by the way." You said softly, gazing out the window at the scenery outside. "Good to know, baby, thank you." Leon responded, his fingers trailing up her skirt again, just to simply not do shit. "Jesus Christ." You whispered underneath your breath, praying he wouldn't hear over the music. He was playing some song by Seether, it's all he ever listens to. You swear you know every song and every lyric by heart. Same with Hinder. This man and his early 2000s rock music, you swear.
The view on the way there was pleasant though. Mostly stores and other useless buildings but aside from that, you could spot tall & wide mountains in the distance. They're all able to be hiked too, you and Leon have done it before but in the summer heat, hell no. Luckily, it's autumn, no need to worry about that. Other than the mountains, the sky was gorgeous. That deep orange tint on the horizon was beautiful, it suited the night perfectly.
"What is this movie called again?" "It's called Smile, I don't know, looked creepy as hell." You spoke. "Yeah, yeah, the trailer was fucked." Leon snickered, one hand on the wheel still. "How much cash did you bring?" "Well, I brought my card, so a shit ton." Leon chuckled, "Using me for my money still, I see how it is." "What? You think there was another reason I married you?" You bit your lip, clearly, you were joking. He dug his nails into your thigh, causing your breath shutter. "Be quiet." He hummed, his teasing tone was deadly.
You couldn't help but let out a small giggle, he never fails to make you laugh. His humor is great, that's something you two bonded over immediately when you first met. You reminisce on that day often. Ever since, your life has been ultimately changed for the better. Leon was genuinely the light at the end of the tunnel for you, hopefully he feels the same way about you.
Just up a few more blocks was the movie theatre. This one is rather large, it was built more recently too. Only four years ago and it's held up well. When it was first built, you and Leon were still dating, now you're married, time flies by so quickly. The both of you have also been there a couple times before, about four times, each time was so nice. Leon really knows how to treat you. Every single date he takes you out on is special in it's on way. He's a miracle worker.
"Just up here." You whispered out, putting your phone in your little white purse that of course, Leon bought for you. He wasn't a poor man, rather wealthy. You don't know all too much about his job, he'd rather save the details, but from what you do know, he's a federal agent whose under the President, now that's saying something. And it all works out amazingly considering his love language is to spoil you with gifts, dates, travels, etc.. He truly never lets up on spending money on you.
"I know sweetheart." He leered, holding your thigh much more lightly now, his grip more gentle. "I'm praying they have sour patch kids." You snickered, Leon hummed at your comment. He's well aware it's your favorite candy... He's definitely spent hundreds on it. "Figured you'd say that." He snorted, pulling into the theatre parking lot. Surprisingly, it wasn't too packed. To your mental math, there was only ten or eleven vehicles, then again, it was a work night.
"Here we go." Leon grunted at he parked, taking the keys out of the ignition. "Grab my wallet for me, will ya doll?" "Yes babe." You replied, grabbing his wallet as you opened your car side door. Leon got out directly after, walking over to you. "Come here." He held his hand out. You handed him his wallet then grabbed a hold of his hand, squeezing it as you walked beside him. He was extremely tall, much taller than you. You were under 5'7, he was 6'2, you rather enjoyed the difference.
That instant hit of popcorn was glorious, it smelt like you'd just entered heaven. There was no one else in the lobby besides you and him, and obviously the workers. Not only did it smell so good, the decor was so retro, you loved the style of it. "I always forget how nice this place looks." You said in awe, loving the late '80s feel. "It is pretty." Leon huffed out before pulling his wallet out, "Go pick out whatever you'd like while I get out tickets." Your husband said deeply, pulling his card out.
You smirked at his words. You grabbed his arm and stood up your tippy toes to get to his ear, "Ask for popcorn please." You were sort of shy, you didn't wanna ask the employee yourself, plus you don't even have money to buy it, so. "I will, go on now." Leon chuckled as he then began to speak to the worker. You nodded, letting go of him and walking on over to the candy stand, they had a lot. But of course, your heart desired the sour patch kids the most, you grabbed them with haste.
You know Leon loves peanut M&Ms, he's always snacking on them, you grabbed a single pack of them for him as well. There was also some warheads in singular packaging, you grabbed ten, five for you and five for him, sour candy is your all time fav. You turned around, gazing over at Leon as he paid for you guy's tickets and the popcorn, you were excited for it. You were a foodie at heart, you could eat, and eat, and eat and never ever get tired of it. That's most likely why 80% of the dates you two go on are dinner dates.
Ambling back to your husband, you handed him the candy, your eyes locking on his. "Good, thank you." He smiled down at you, placing the sweets on the counter. "Good girl for getting my M&Ms." He whispered in your heart, his deep voice making your insides twist up like a pretzel, which was ironic due to the fact there were some in the hot food bar. "Heheh." You giggled, locking your arm with his, waiting on the popcorn.
"Your total is 16.20$." The woman behind the counter stated. Leon swiped his card through the machine, signing his signature too to verify the purchase. You grabbed the popcorn and Leon took your guy's candy, sliding the tickets into his back pocket. "Make it quick doll." Leon said from behind you as you began to butter it up. You loved the salty & savory popcorn, you'd drench it in that tangy yellow butter, but there is a point where it's too much.
Leon set his hands on your waist from behind you, his rough thumbs caressing the little sliver of skin showing from your shirt. You were wearing a tight shirt paired with your skirt, it had been awhile since the two of you went out so you thought it was cute. Despite only little bits of your hips showing, he still showed you he loved it. His nails lightly tickled at your midriff, watching you as you fixed up the food for the two of you. "All done?" "Done." You mumbled, turning around, his hands not moving though.
He leaned down, pressing his lips to your forehead gently before he then simply pressed his forehead against yours, "You're my everything." He hushly spoke. You were honestly caught of guard but maybe he was just in a lovey dovey mood...? "Love you too." You leered, kissing his lips swiftly, not wanting the employees to feel awkward. "C'mon baby, you know that ain't no kiss." He then gripped your chin, his lips settling upon yours for what felt like an eternity. You felt his tounge briskly swipe against your glossy lips, he could definitely taste the cherry.
He didn't go any further than that, pulling away after a few more seconds, "Let's go." He snickered, slipping his hand down your back as he lead you to the room. "You're so fucking crazy." You smacked his abs through his shirt. "Sorry, I just love you, is that so bad?" He acted sort of oblivious. Once again, he's such a man. "It's sooo bad." You dragged out your wording in a sarcastic manner, earning a titter from him. Making Leon laugh isn't too much of an accomplishment, he'll laugh at cat videos on the web.
"Just through here." Leon pushed the door open. The lights were still on too, proving the movie hasn't begun yet, luckily. There was only a couple other people in there, about five, they were all at the front. "Let's get in the back." Leon stated, gripping your hand firmly, "Why?" "Because I said so, be good and listen." He teased. You felt arousal stream over you when he said that, gosh, he's so good. You climbed up the stairs behind him, your hand still interlocked with his as you did so.
You two sat just a couple rows away from the very back, wanting to at least have a decent view of the massive screen. Leon sat down, then you did. "Here baby." You murmured, pulling the two ice cold water bottles from your purse. "Smooth criminal." He joked, taking his and placing it in it's holder. "Their drinks are more than their popcorn, it's ridiculous." You spat out, setting the popcorn in his lap. "Always making me hold it." "Mhm." You giggled. He glared at you, making your heart beat fast. You knew he was playing around but for odd enough reasons, it turns you the hell on.
You took the sour patch kids bag, ripping it out and setting it on the side of your leg, having it tucked between you and the seat. You'd save your warheads for later. "You gonna eat your candy?" "Maybe later, the popcorn is just fine for now." Leon assured you, taking a couple pieces in his mouth. Understandable. You ate a few pieces of your candy, the taste of them was immaculate, it could never get old.
-
After ten minutes or so of previews, trailers and commercials, the movie finally began. The lights went dark, setting the mood immensely. You could hardly see Leon's attractive face. "Finally." You uttered beneath your breath, taking some popcorn from his lap and eating it. The buttery, salty taste was too good, you practically moaned while eating it. The title card came on screen, the eerie noise playing in the background really suited the film from what you've seen.
At first, Leon wasn't paying too much attention to you, his eyes glued to the screen, he seemed to be into the movie so far. You tried to be, but that desirable burning feeling deep inside you wasn't doing you any justice. You could feel yourself pulsing, the mere thought of him had your panties soaked. He hasn't even done anything to crazy either, that's how good he is. He's such a dick sometimes. You can't even think about it, it makes you want him more. He can a man be so alluring?
As you snacked on your candy, you nearly lost your breath as you felt his hand slither onto your thigh, just as it was in the car earlier. Each one of his fingers caused an electric wave to course through you. The way they'd slightly lift off of your skin as they squeezed it, it was too much. You could feel as his pinky glided underneath your skirt, seemingly getting closer with his entire hand. "Movie is good so far, yeah?" Leon whispered to you, his hand going fully beneath your skirt now. Curse this man.
You didn't even reply, your body just simply reacted to his advances. You spread your legs open as much as you could in the tight chair, which wasn't too much but Leon definitely liked what you did considering he tightly gripped it, gaining a soft whimper out of you. "Look at how you responsive you are..." He murmured, not even glancing at you, making himself seem like he was just casually watching the film. At this point, you could care less about the fucking movie. You wanted his cock inside you. But maybe... His fingers would have to suffice.
"Finger me." You panted, looking at him, desperation plastered on your beautiful face. Leon didn't listen to your pleas, his pinky finger rubbing over your wet panties. That wasn't good enough, it never would be. You wanted him inside you, you wanted him to feel how wet you were for him. "Look how wet I am baby." You muttered. "Mmm, I can feel princess." He grunted, his entire hand planting itself onto your cunt through your undergarments, you whimpered quietly, needing to keep the act up.
"Please..." You gripped his arm. Leon sighed heavily, his eyes leaving the screen, his eyes locking on yours as he gandered down your body, taking the sight in. "So needy." He teased you. "You gonna stay quiet?" "Yes, I promise, please." You begged of your husband, your eyes never leaving his. "Don't make a single noise." He huffed out deeply, his voice husky. He pulled your dripping panties to the side, his index finger gliding through your wetness, causing you to sigh softly, not making a noise though. "Mmm." You murmured, resting your head against his fit arm.
His index finger continues to pick up your wetness, you could hear him sigh once more, "Fuck." He muttered, the sound of your sopping cunt was so fucking good to him. His fingers made their way to your nub, beginning to rub it with ease, a surge of pleasure bursting in your tummy as he did this. He made small yet fast circles on your clit, earning some subtle noises out of you ; Luckily, he didn't hear, the movie was starting to up itself in volume, good for you two.
"Does that feel good?" Leon purred out to you, his eyes shooting over to gaze at you, his eyes in a trance as he watched your face contort just by his touch. "Mhm." You moaned out hushly, your arms wrapped around his fit arm. "Good girl." He whispered, his fingers slapping your clit as they then went back down your slit, your wetness was practically dripping down your ass and onto the seat, sorry to the worker who'll have to clean your mess up...
His finger went all the way down before he then stuck it inside of you, your tightness grasping around it. Leon chuckled at how tight you were, you never fail to amaze him. He pumped his finger in & out of you, so moderately. "Gotta stay silent, remember that." Leon teased you, his thumb going to your clit, now fingering & rubbing you. This two in one deal was going to be the end of you. "Jesus..." You whimpered, your teeth sinking into his arm, causing him to only thrust his finger into you faster.
Your wetness was louder now, each time his finger went back into you, it sounded like a lemon being squeezed. You love biting Leon, he loves it too. One thing Leon especially loves is when he's fucking you, he's right on top of you, making you lose your sense of reality then you just bite down on his bulk shoulder. Gosh, he loves when you do that to him. His entire finger was drenched in your fluids, it was shining due to the bright lights emitting from the ginormous screen projector.
"Keep it quiet sweetheart." He whispered, a light snicker playing off his tongue. He was such an ass. He knows you can't be silent for much longer. He's bringing you closer and closer and closer to the edge. You fear if he keeps going at this rate, you'll cum and scream his name, like always. "It's so- so hard." You stuttered, your nails digging into his forearm fiercely. "Oh, you can do it." Leon praised you, he knows you can't.
As his singular finger continued it's work, you clenched around him even more as he slid another one in, this time curling each finger with every pump. No one in the theatre had noticed, surprisingly. All of them were mindless souls indulged in the film. You also really wanted to watch the movie, but fuck this was so much more needed than to watch some stupid horror flick. His thumb continued to rub your nub, the most sensitive nerve causing your brain to lose track of itself and your stomach to do flips like it's a gymnast.
"Leon... Baby..." You panted out, your hair getting messy from how much you've been tossing and turning your head. He didn't reply. His face was staring directly in front of him, acting all innocent, no one would suspect a thing... Yet he was finger fucking you, making your pussy clench around his fingers more tightly than ever before. His thumb was stroking your clit with pace, he was relentless on it. It was as if he was trying to gain a rise out of you and knowing him, he definitely was.
"Seriously." You whined, pressing your forehead against his upper arm. This man was going to be the fucking death of you.
"What is it?" He calmly said, still not looking at you whatsoever. "Fingers aren't enough, fuck me, I don't care about the stupid movie anymore." You said with an seductive tone. "Fingers aren't enough, huh?" He chortled as he began to finger fuck you at light speed. You instantly closed your legs, stopping all of his movements. "Don't." You squeaked, removing his hand from between your legs. Leon giggled, his hand gripping ahold of your cheeks sternly as he forced you to look up at him.
"You need me to fuck you?" "Yes baby, please." You mooched off your husband. You needed him and you need him at this current moment in time. "Well, where do you want to be fucked? In here? Where anyone could possibly see? In the restroom? In the car-?" "Let's find somewhere, please." You stated loud and clear, fixing your panties and skirt. Leon get go of your face. "Mmm, lead the way gorgeous." He held your hand, following behind you now. It felt powerful to take charge, to tell him this is what you want.
You both jogged down the stairs but acted as normal as possible, acting as if Leon wasn't just feeding into your dirty needs. Pushing open the wooden doors, you looked around and only saw a bathroom and other doors leading to another theatre area. Leon gripped your hand tighter, trying to indicate something to you. You spun around, looking back at the door behind you. "That's an employees only room!" "I doubt anyone is in here, c'mon." Leon laughed quietly.
He wrapped his hand around the knob, twisting it and pushing the door open. All that was in there was a table, some random movie posters and a counter, probably a type of break room. "Dammit, come here." Leon expired, grabbing your waist and pulling you against him. He lessened the space between the two of you as he smashed his needy lips against yours, his moving against yours in a passionate make-out.
Your arms went to his shoulders, holding onto them with care as you set your entire body against his. There was absolutely no stopping between kisses, it was constant. Heavy breathing and kisses were all that could be heard. Leon's hands went from your hips and down to your ass, gripping it hard as he licked your bottom lip, so badly wanting entry. You, of course, granted him exactly that. You moaned into the kiss as he squeezed your ass, slapping it too, he tried to keep it down though. This is technically illegal, so...
As you two made out sexually, he pushed you up against the wall, his hands still beneath your skirt, going from playing with your rear and pussy repeatedly. You'd randomly feel his fingers against your clit for short periods of time. Your nails scratched into his shoulders, you were so into this. Your sense of relief was this. He knew what to do and how to do it to you. Leon's tongue swiped against yours, his practically engulfing yours. He loves doing this.
You slightly stuck your tongue out mid kiss, Leon immediately jumped at the opportunity. He swiped his tounge along yours so deliberately, the sensual texture of it causing your pussy to literally drip more than it was before. Leon then grabbed your chin, tilting it to get a better angle. His entire tongue licked yours, then he wrapped his lips around it, suckling. Your moved your hands from his face and down to his waist, holding onto his shirt for what felt like dear life.
After sucking on your tounge for a few seconds, he pulled away swiftly, pecking you once more and now kissing down your precise jawline. You tipped your head back, allowing him to gain more access. His kisses were so slow and gentle, he really took his time. His heavy breathing was so sexy, it showed how much he needed you. He truly yearned for your presence, your touch, your everything. "You smell amazing." Leon breathed in, giving the end of your jawline a quick nibble. You giggled, kissing his cheek before going back to the same position as before.
Leon smooched down your throat, relishing in your perfume and it's enticing smell. "Mmm, what scent babygirl?" "Honestly..." You began, "I don't fucking know." You chuckled, earning a snicker from him. He licked from the top of your neck and all the way down, leaving a strip of saliva just there. He kissed all along the strip, you couldn't help but whimper, each kiss and every lick was to die for. You couldn't get enough of him. Leon groaned, his hands holding your ass - He couldn't get enough of you.
Making his way down to the middle of your neck, his hot breath sat on that same spot for a few moments before you felt that painfully pleasing feeling of his teeth lightly sinking into your skin. "Fuck." You moaned, your nails sunk into his slim waist. You felt his tongue going erratic on your neck as he continued to bite you. "Leon..." You soughed out, tilting your head to the side even further, wanting him to leave more love bites on you.
Heading you call his name, he pulled away from your neck, he gave you a fast peck before pressing his forehead against yours. "What's wrong sweetheart?" Leon panted, his right hand on the side of your neck where he was just feasting upon you seconds ago. "You make me feel so good." "Yeah?" "Make me feel even better." You whispered, your arms now encasing around his neck, embracing him closely. "Oh babygirl." Leon sighed out, caressing your neck carefully. "I'll make you feel just fine."
Your husband turned around, scanning the room. "Lay down on that table." He snickered, stepping away from you. "Okay..." You giggled, walking over to it. You pulled yourself up onto it, sitting with your feet dangling off. "Lay back baby." Leon hummed out to you, his voice soft. You obliged, laying all the way on your back, your legs bent upwards on the table. You angled your head so you'd be able to watch him. He unbuttoned his black pants, allowing them to drop along with his underwear, revealing his hard cock.
You bit your lip with a giggle. You get so giddy seeing him this way, he's so sexy. "Don't look at me like that." Leon chuckled, placing both of his hands on each one of your knees. "I'll look at you however I'd like." "Oh? Is that so?" "Mhm." You cockily mumbled, placing your feet on his chest. Leon's large hands wrapped around your ankles, rubbing them lovingly as he stared you down. His eyes were lustful, darkness bursting in his iris's. "Look at you." Leon whispered, taking both of your socks off, setting them to the side. "What?" You sighed deeply, your cunt pulsing at his cooing tone.
Bringing one of your feet up to his face, he placed a kiss on the side of it, then on the other one. You weren't into all that feet stuff, neither was he, but Leon will and does kiss you absolutely everywhere. He set your feet back down. Leon's hands went towards your waist, holding onto it firmly as he quickly pulled you down the table, earning a surprised gasp from you. "A warning next time?" You scoffed. "No." Leon responded sternly, being playful with you, per usual.
His fingers trailed up to your panties, locking them into the waistband of them. "I'm so wet." "I know honey, so wet for me, hm?" Leon whispered seductively, never breaking eye contact with you as he pulled your cute white panties all the way off, taking them off of your ankles afterwards. You spread your legs widely for him, the entire view of your core at his service. It was like he was trying to make it not look obvious, but it was so clear he was gazing at you down there. "So beautiful." Leon complimented you, you were his wife after all.
Grabbing his erection, Leon jerked it a couple times, maintaining eye contact with you, only breaking it for a tiny bit to look down at himself. "You have me fucking pulsing." Leon grunted, wasting no time as he swiped his dick through your wetness. You moaned, staring up at him, his tip would stroke over your clit and make your center have an even bigger heartbeat, that's how it felt at least. "I love how I make you get." Leon continued. "All wet, needy, clingy... You're so pretty." Leon shared, kissing your knee again.
You nodded in reply, he was right, he does manage to make you feel all of those ways. "Yeah..." You muttered out.
Without zero warning, you felt him plunge into you with haste, his entire length being grasped around your warm heat. You felt your stomach twist and turn when he did this, it gained a whimper from you, a rowdy one. "Holy shit." You panted out, like a dog on a hot summer day. "Can't wait any longer." Leon cackled, his hands on your hips as he started his movements. Each thrust was life altering. It felt like you were in Heaven with what he was doing. His mouth was sort of open, you could hear his quiet gasps, you were making him feel a type of way too.
You held onto his wrists for stability as he fucked you, his thrusts were causing the entire table to shake, you didn't want it to break or something. "What if a worker hears us? Sees us?" "Well, they'll see a woman being fucked real good by her husband." Leon replied. Could he ever not be snarky? You rolled your eyes, looking to the side, your face contorting as you felt his member reach deeper inside of you. "Don't roll your eyes at me, doll." Leon stated, his hands still on your midriff.
You never looked back at him, your eyes were stained on the other side of the room. Not that you didn't wanna look at him, you just know it'll make you cum sooner, and even make him as well, and you really want to draw this out. His cock moved in and out of you repeatedly, he switched up the pace every other second. One moment he was fast & rough and the other he took it slow & deep. Both ways made your heart beat faster and faster each time.
"Why aren't you looking at me?" Leon groaned out, his left hand groping your tit through your shirt, squeezing it. You didn't answer, you couldn't, you knew if you tried speaking your speech would only be slurred. "Look at me." You didn't listen. You just held onto his arms with more strength, indicating you were going to lose yourself sooner or later.
Although, next thing you know, he stopped thrusting into you. This ticked you off but before you could get a damn word out, you felt the hand that was once on your breast, now pulling your face to face him. "I suggest you start listening." Leon brought himself down closer to you, his body over yours. You nodded your head leisurely, licking your lip, then biting it. His demands were music to your ears. His movements picked up again, but he forced you to look at him. Something about staring down at you as he made you feel certain ways was so convincing.
After a minute, he let go of your face, trusting you'll listen to him now. His hands rested on either side of your head, his dick still surging into your pretty pussy. You felt like there was an imaginary percentage bar of how long it'll take before your orgasm implodes on you, and with each pump, it fills that bar slowly yet surely. "Fucking hell you're so beautiful." Leon moaned, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, his breath could be felt there. "You're so handsome." You added, your hand going up to his hair, playing with it.
You had a feeling he was going to do it, but once he did, it made your core tighten even more than before. His teeth once again made their way into your neck, he bit down on it. "Leon..." You grunted out, your fingers flowing through his soft hair. His thrusts were more slow & deep now, as if he was getting tired or something. It was either that or he was trying savour this special time together. "I'm gonna cum soon." You admitted, your arms going around his head, holding him close to your body.
Leon didn't say a word, he just nibbled on your throat, kissing & licking it every so often. That sharp sting of his teeth was erotic, it made your stomach get closer and closer to granting you that ultimate pleasure - your climax. "Baby... Harder..." You begged, letting go of him and instead grasping the white table underneath you. Once more, hit nibbled your neck, then your slender shoulders, before his face pulled back, going to stare at you again. "Harder?" Leon questioned, his moments all the same. "Yes, please." You tittered, your body so heated up.
Your husband did what he does best - please you. He began to fuck you, it wasn't anything vanilla, no, this was hard. Each thrust was rougher and rougher. Your eyes looked up into his, you could feel that they were watery, you looked innocent, like a doe in front of headlights. Leon looked back at you, his eyes much different. They are loving, yes, but also sexual desire was all behind them, his eyebrows also added onto the darkness of his face. "Don't look at me like that." The man grunted, closing his eyes as he pumped into your tight center.
"No, no, look at me, Leon." You reached up, holding onto his face. Now it was his turn. Leon slowly opened his eyes again, much more coherent than you were earlier. "Yeah..." You murmured, your hands caressing his scruffy cheeks.
Coming onto you was your orgasm, your initial release. You could feel how close you were, each thrust only brought you more and more to the edge. With his dick twitching inside you, you knew he was close to cumming as well. Your stomach was providing you with that all familiar feeling - The feeling of ultimate pleasure. Each time he fucked into you, your breasts would bounce, now that he was going much harder, they didn't get a break. Both of Leon's hands held onto your tits, he continuously squeezed them, he was like a teenage boy with how he was about boobs.
Leon gandered back up from your breasts and back at you, he never realized you were still staring at him. This, oh, it sent him over the edge. Your water colored eyes were like a death trap for him ; In this case, a sexual trap. "Fuck, why do you do this to me..." He grunted as he pumped only a couple more times into your cunt, his seed filling you, you felt the warm liquid shoot inside. "Why would you look at me like that?" Leon moaned, moving into you with short, fast thrusts, wanting to get you finished too.
You didn't reply, instead you just pulled his face down to yours, pressing your lips to his. Leon breathed out against your face, kissing you back passionately. You held the back of his head & neck, relishing in this moment. "Oh I love you." You moaned. "I love you too babygirl." He grunted, his cock still deep inside of you. "Cum for me princess." Leon began, "Have your pussy tighten around me." He stated, his voice husk.
Your breath shuttered when he spoke like that. He was so hot, every word he spoke made you feel all sorts of ways. You couldn't help it, even though you wanted to. You kept your lips against his, your tongue intertwined with his as you suctioned his length inside of you. Your orgasm withdrew you from the real world, your eyes practically rolling in the back of your head, surprised you couldn't see your own damn brain. "That's what I like to see." Leon paused his movements, just admiring his wife as she came all around him.
Both of you just sat there, your body felt super limp, you could feel his cock was soft inside of you. Everytime you guy's finish making love, it's like this. It's like the two of you are at a loss for words. You were still wet, you definitely needed to clean yourself up. You looked around the room, analyzing it. There was a paper towel dispenser by the sink on the other side of the room. "Could you please grab me some of that." You asked your husband. "Sure thing." He sighed gently, pulling out of you and heading over there.
Leon snatched up a few pieces of the towel, bringing it over to you. He didn't hand you them, instead he cleaned you up himself. You just watched him, heaving softly whilst doing so. He was a great husband. "Thank you baby." "Course doll." Leon replied kissing your inner thigh before helping you get back on your feet. "I'm not wearing these." You giggled, setting your panties aside. "Give them to me." He held his hand out. You rolled your eyes playfully, giving him your soaked underwear.
Your eyes widened as he sniffed them, the scent wearing off of them drove him crazy. As he pulled his own pants back up, he tucked your panties into his pocket. "Don't move around to much, I don't need your ass or pussy being flashed to the world." Leon chuckled, adjusting your shirt, you nodded in reply. He was right. "Let's go finish whatever time we have left of the movie." Leon whispered to you, his hand on your cheek firmly as he kissed you once more before the both of you made way back.
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frogchiro · 1 year
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The Hunter and the two Bunnies
Day 3!! Yay! I won't lie I was super excited for this one so I hope you guys like it too!
Warnings: heavy nsfw, fem!Reader and Graves are bunny hybrids, Simon is a hunter, mentions of murder and gore but not much at all, Simon is a possessive and obsessive man, it's implied that both reader and Graves didn't have much choice to stay with him at first but it's really up to you ^^
Autumn was near, it was clear as day. The leaves started turning all sorts of oranges, reds, yellows and started to fall, the warm summer days turned to cool and bleak weather with a chilling howling wind and cold rain hammering against the wooden roof of Simon's cabin. Despite the bleak and unforgiving weather outside, the inside of the wooden house is a picture of warmth, coziness and pleasure.
With the roaring fire in the hearth, the leftover uneaten honey-glazed ham, fresh bread and fruits and of course the two warm, glistening bodies of two lovely bunnies currently warming Simon's weary muscles.
"Ahh...Yeah, that's right...Use your hips more-Perfect, fuuuck...", came the low, growly voice from the scarred, blond man sitting in his well-loved, warm armchair as your pretty, soft body continued to move above him, your whines and moans like music to his ears, your soft tits pressed tightly to his sweaty, hairy chest and all Ghost could do was let out a groan as he felt his swollen tip hit your cervix, potent cum leaking out and he could feel his balls tighten at the delicious fantasy of his sperm being right in your most intimate place, doing its job and breeding you with his baby.
"S-Simon please-it-it's too deep! Ah-! Si I feel it in my belly..." came your whined response as you gently ran your hand over your lower belly and pressed, both you and Simon moaning out at the intense, pleasurable feeling of him right there inside you and you couldn't help but tighten up, your cunt squeezing the large male like a vice making him let out a loud moan and thrust his hips up more roughly.
The wonderful, pleasurable scene was lazily watched by Philip, another bunny Ghost managed to catch last winter. The blonde male hybrid was laying on his back on one of the numerous fluffy furs in front of the fireplace, surrounded by more pelts and pillows arranged in the form of a nest. Philip continued to watch the display with a warm smile, happy that his mates both can feel all the pleasure in the world in this little cabin in the woods in the middle of nowhere, the three of you can calmly and safely mate and be happy, not to mention the possibility of making your small family a little bigger by next spring. The blonde couldn't help but wince at your high pitched whine as Simon let out a matching loud growl, he probably was right up against your cervix bruising it and making you sore for the next few days, and Philip had to lift hips own hips slightly, the achy feeling settling in his hips and he let out a quiet whine as he felt Ghost's cum leaking out of his hole and wetting his thighs but he quickly used his fingers and stuffed the precious semen back inside him, nothing could go to waste...
After finally cumming deep inside you with a triumphant roar, his balls squeezing and twitching along with his dick lodged deep inside, he held you close to his hot, bulky body and caressed your back and ass, gently palming at your floppy (H/c) ears and fluffy tail before finally gently lifting you up and putting you down into the prepared nest, Philip gratefully accepting you back into his strong arms and immediately getting to nuzzling and licking at your tear-stained cheeks, muttering something sweet making you giggle tiredly and nuzzle into the scruffy stubble on your mate's cheek.
Simon sat back in his armchair with a cigar and a glass of whiskey and just watched you in a comfortable silence, not even bothering to put any clothes back on, only throwing a warm, silvery wolf pelt over his shoulders. He was a proud man, not afraid to show his body to his loved ones, especially you and Phil, it made him happy to be able to shed everything and just let loose, not to mention that sooner than later both of you will recover and want to go for another round and any layer of clothing would be torn off anyway with your small, but sharp claws.
It's a good thing that Simon won't have to go out anywhere for the next two or so days; your supplies and pantry is overflowing with herbs, spices, dried meats, forest fruit and vegetables and anything else you'd ever want. It's also a good thing that he dealt with that pesky little visitor who wandered a little too close for him liking to his territory. Was the guy a lost tourist who wanted to just get back on the trail? Or was he a filthy little thief who wanted to steal his bunnies away...? Well it's doesn't matter now anyway, at least not to Ghost.
The guy's head was basically shot off with the military grade rifle Simon still kept from his military days and now he was probably dragged away by the neighbouring pack of wolves deeper into the dark forest. It will be just Simon's dirty little secret, after all it's no use for him trouble your pretty little bunny heads with something like that.
The rain continues to patter against the cabin, and everything fell silent once again.
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upsidedownwithsteve · 5 months
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Steve Harrington x fem!reader
[2.7K] loosely based on the movie float, lifeguard!steve, a summer full of swim lessons. mentions of drowning, eventual smut 18+
SWIM LESSON SCHEDULE
LESSON #3
You didn’t have to wait seven whole days to see Steve again, and when you did, it wasn’t poolside.
This meant that between you both, there were a lot more clothes than normal, but you found out the hard way that that fact didn’t really make a difference to the effect he now had on you. There was a party at some rich kids house on the outskirts of town, someone called Sam that neither you nor Eddie knew all that well but Robin used to work with him at the Shake Shack and well-- if Robin was going somewhere, Steve followed, and if Steve was allowed through the door, that meant Eddie had a ticket in too.
If Eddie was there? High chance you were too.
It’s how you ended up in a neighbourhood that rivalled even Steve’s, each house sprawled out across green manicured lawns and the pools out the back were almost as large as the one you were learning in, a shiny red slide to boot. Three stories, arched windows, a winding driveway to a three door garage and when you entered behind Eddie, the crystal chandelier in the foyer was vibrating to the beat of the music.
Two guys you recognised from the trailer park grabbed Eddie as he pushed his way through the crowd, your fingers hooked in his as he dragged you behind him. They were ready with cash, bills rolled up and an eagerly impatient look in their already glassy eyes, so you waved the boy away and headed to the kitchen, a safe enough sanctuary as you skirted around the makeshift dance floor that had been created in the living room. It seemed that anyone over seventeen and anyone under thirty was at the party, the large space full to the brim with drunken strangers, people moving to the synths of INXS.
The pushed back furniture made it difficult to move around the gyrating bodies, Sam’s parent’s cream coloured carpet already stained and sticky with questionable substances. The lights had been switched off and someone had strung multicoloured Christmas lights around the curtain poles, around the second chandelier above the coffee table. There was a broken disco ball sitting in a wall sconce, pink and green and blue hitting off each mirrored tile, making everything glitter.
You saw Steve before you could make it to the kitchen, rainbows on his cheeks, a stripe of colours across his lips. He was talking to a girl - a pretty redhead who had a drink in one hand and Steve’s bicep in another. The sight of him made you feel as warm as a saturday morning, as if you were walking into water with his naked chest in front of you, his pink cheeks and sleep mussed hair just for your eyes only. It felt almost unfair to see him now, surrounded by others, touched by someone else. He looked just as pretty with a striped shirt on, his hair styled and curling around his ears and neck, one hand shoved into his jeans pocket as the other gripped a beer.
His gaze caught your own, a fleeting thing before recognition clicked at the sight of you and then Steve was moving, the redhead’s fingers catching at his sleeve before he was in front of you, her frown behind him.
“Didn’t expect to see you here.” Steve was smiling, eyes drinking in the corners like he was genuinely happy to bump into you. He craned his neck and spotted Eddie, raising his beer in greeting. “You want a drink?”
“Uh, yeah.” You smiled back, heart in your throat because Steve was placing a familiar hand on the small of your back in order to steer you into the kitchen and Eddie was grinning, a full beam that made your cheeks warm. “A drink sounds good.”
You let Steve pour you a vodka and lemonade, and he fumbled an ice tray he found in the back of the freezer, the fizz spilling over the rim of the glass as he handed it to you with a grin. You watched him lick the soda from his fingers, his eyes on yours as he smiled still, his cheeks a little pink and it felt like you were back in middle school and the pretty, popular boy was giving you too much attention.
You weren’t sure why, but you lapped it up happily.
Taking a gulp, you hummed, happy that your drink didn’t burn on the way down and Steve stayed close, his hand gone from the small of your back but his shoulder bumped yours and you could smell his cologne, leftover sunscreen and hairspray.
“You ready for lesson three tomorrow or are you planning on getting black out?” Steve asked with raised brows. “I gotta tell you now, legally, I’m not covered for drownings due to hangovers.”
You rolled your eyes, lips lifting into a smile you tried to suppress because you had absolutely no intention of getting messy drunk in the vicinity of Steve Harrington, with or without the threat of swimming the day after.
“It depends,” you joked anyway, “what does lesson three include?”
Steve smirked, leaning close, hair falling across his forehead and you could see the freckles over his nose, the glint of the chain he wore flashing under the collar of his t-shirt. “M’not sure I should tell you now.” He was all charm, a cheekiness you normally didn’t get to see up close. “You might stand me up.”
You scoffed, a dismissive sound that barely covered your embarrassment because you were sure that your eyes were wide enough to show off how flustered you were. You took another long sip, lemonade and bubbles coating your tongue and you watched Steve stare at the way you licked the vodka from your lips.
“I wouldn’t stand you up,” you murmured, barely heard over the thud of the music.
The boy beamed, ecstatic. “You wouldn’t?”
“Not unless you were planning something drastic, you know, like swimming.”
A laugh burst from Steve’s chest, his eyes shining with an amusement you were proud of producing. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, spreading his feet wide enough that you were able to stand between them. Not too close, not too suggestive, just close enough to each other that girls glared at you and no one tried to interrupt.
“Swimming? In a pool?” Steve cocked his head to the side, one hand nursing his beer, the other reaching out to poke at your side. You squirmed, amazed at how such a friendly touch seemed just as intimate as his hands on your bare back, keeping you afloat. He frowned at you, all faux confusion that made him look unbearably cute. “Who the fuck would think of that?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, unable to stop smiling. Come to think of it, your cheeks ached a little, your grin permanently etched onto your lips since you saw Steve, whether it was from being flustered or amused. Your cheeks felt hot, your chest light and you barely noticed anyone else in the room.
It’s why you jumped when two hands caught your shoulders, a diabolical cackle in your ear as you recognised the scent of smoke and old spice a little too late. Eddie smelled like childhood and home but now, standing in a strangers kitchen with Steve Harrington, you couldn’t have been less impressed with your friend’s appearance.
“Hey, there’s a good chance I can shift the last of this green if I hit up this party on Maple Street,” Eddie half yelled over the music, his arm draped over your shoulder in a too familiar way. You wanted to elbow him. “You comin’ with or—?”
He was glancing at Steve over your head, brows raised, suggestive and waiting on an answer from him rather than you. You swallowed hard, noticing how Steve had seemed just as disappointed as you at Eddie’s arrival but he shrugged, nonchalant. “I could walk you home later,” the beer in his hand glinted in the low light, his fingers tightening around it. He smiled, eyes soft, “I don’t mind.”
You wanted to say yes. Fuck, you wanted to say yes so bad and the word was costing your tongue, buzzing and excited, a fizzy candy explosion. But you took too long to look at the boy, tanned skin and messy hair, scruff on his jaw that he hadn’t bothered to shave that morning, the freckles on his cheeks and neck that made you want to touch them.
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d kissed a boy, never mind one you really liked. And perhaps that wasn’t even on the cards, maybe Steve didn’t like you in that way at all - but the idea of being alone in the darkened room with strangers, people you didn’t know and people who wouldn’t care if you fell into each other - it suddenly seemed a little too much for one night.
“Um, it’s— it’s okay,” you told him regretfully. You hated the way his eyes seemed to lose a little warmth, his lips turning down before he righted himself. “I should probably just go with Eddie.”
“Pussy,” Eddie coughed, barely concealed and Steve stared at the ground, cheeks pink.
You really did elbow your friend then, the sharp point of your arm finding his rims and he kicked at the back of your heel, childlike in the way he scuffled to get you back in a way that really wasn’t subtle.
“Thank you, though,” you smiled at Steve, hopeful that he’d return the gesture. He did, although not as warm as before, not as confident as he’d been as he’d guided you to the kitchen with a wide hand on your back. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow, right?”
Steve sank the last of his drink, licking it from his lips before nodding. He was already back out of the kitchen and you tried not to look defeated. “Yeah, ‘course,” he told you. “See you in the morning.”
“Well,” Eddie watched Steve retreat, his hand slapping down on your slumped shoulder. “You fucked that, didn’t you?”
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Steve was already in the pool when you arrived the next morning, still sleep mussed and frazzled from the way your alarm had blared too loud. Despite three weeks of early mornings, it was still a struggle to pull yourself from bed. But the promise of a warm day, pink-blue skies and Steve Harrington made it so much easier than you ever thought.
You paused at the loungers for longer than you needed, your toes curling at the thought of stripping off your shorts and shirt because the swimsuit underneath was newer and skimpier and cherry red. Steve was underwater, swimming effortlessly beneath the surface from the shallows to the depths you weren’t brave to venture to yet.
So you took the opportunity to pull off your t-shirt, a ratty old thing that used to be Eddie's and you cursed picking it up from your floor, hoping Steve wouldn’t get the wrong idea despite how many times you’d told him that Eddie was just your friend.
You let it fall to the sun warmed tiles just as Steve broke the surface, pushing his hair back with one hand as he grasped the edge of the pool with the other. He grinned when he saw you, a familiar and friendly thing that made your heart jump but his gaze darted to your chest, just for a second, just for a tiny moment, and you remembered to feel shy.
“New suit?” Steve asked, sounding casual, his brows raised as if it didn’t really matter what the answer was.
You wondered what he’d say if you told him you’d bought it with him in mind, what he’d say if he knew you’d stared at your half naked frame in your bedroom mirror for far too long, inspecting each curve, each bruise, all the old silver scars and stretch marks, stripes along your thighs that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. This suit dipped low in the back, as modest as it still was in the chest. Would he think your boobs were too small? Too big? Too flat? Uneven? Could he tell?
Would it matter?
It was a vibrant colour against your skin, the same red as the cherries you’d scooped in your smoothie before you’d left, a shade off of Steve’s lifeguard shorts. It seemed too bright now, too silly, but you nodded regardless and tried not to make a big deal out of it.
Steve leant on the pool edge, chin resting on his tanned forearms, water dripping from his wet hair, clinging to his too long lashes. He tilted his head, appraising, gaze gentle, never staring. “S’nice. Colour looks good on you.”
His words made it a lot easier for you to unbutton your shorts and slip the denim over your hips. Chin ducked, you couldn’t hold eye contact, not bold enough quite yet. But you let the shorts drop from your thighs, hitting the tiles and you kicked them under the sun lounger as you flicked off your sliders at the same time. The sun was already blazing, rising higher in the sky, turning the tangerine edges into a warm blue and the heat of it slipped over your skin like a blanket.
Feeling a little less naked than before, you walked to the shallows, Steve swimming the length of the pool to meet you. You stopped just shy of the stairs, lips pressed together and brow furrowed, contemplating. Steve stopped too, watchful as you considered your next move the boy positively beamed when you dropped down to sit at the edge of the water.
The surface lapped at Steve waist when he stood, not too deep but certainly not the gentle entrance you’d become accustomed to. You cringed as you slipped both feet into the cool water, hands curling around the edge of the pool until your knuckles burned.
“Yeah?” Steve coaxed, sounding impressed. Proud. “You’ve got it. You can just slide right in, you’ll touch the bottom.”
You knew you would. The logic was in front of you, just like the bottom of the pool was very much visible. Looking down, you could see Steve’s feet on the tiles, rippling into funny shapes and sizes, his bare legs, just as tanned as the rest of him and dusted with coarse hair. He was planted there firmly, no current or waves to knock him over, steady as ever.
He lay his hands on the top of the water, palms up. His gaze met your own, his smile warmer than the morning. “I’m right here.”
It was comforting, his words, his closeness, even if you didn’t take his hands, he kept them there, waiting. It was enough for you to lean forward, bum slipping off of the warm tiled edge and into the cool water. You gasped as always from the shock of the temperature difference, the water rippling around the tops of your ribs and it was enough to make your nipples pebble, glaringly obvious under the new, thinner material of your suit.
If Steve noticed, he didn’t dare look down.
He did take a step forward though, enough for his toes to touch yours and you could count the freckles on the bridge of his nose, could see the chlorine water that still made his lashes cling together in spikes. It was intimate enough to make you wonder if something like this would’ve happened the night before if you’d stayed. If you had let Eddie and the boy shaped comfort blanket that he was go, if you’d hung back with Steve and shared secrets and drinks under the multicoloured lights, if you’d let him walk you home under the glow of street lamps.
If he would’ve kissed you at your front door.
But then the gate clanked noisily against the chain link fence and there was a splash big enough to soak your chest and the side of your face - Steve’s too - both screwed up in shock.
Eddie appeared from the water - the deeper, indigo coloured end - shaking his sopping curls like a wet, disobedient dog, his tattooed chest bare and much paler than Steve’s. He grinned through his curls, oblivious to whatever he’d just interrupted, his arms spread wide.
“What’s up, fuckers?”
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kiarastromboli · 9 months
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Teach me (Chris Sturniolo x y/n)
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Part.2 Part.3
Masterlist.
Warning: Virgin reader, Smut content, don’t like it = don’t read it :)
Summary: Chris shows up in the middle of the night in your room, asking for answers to the exam you both are supposed to take in the following days, and things take an unexpected turn.
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
We are on a summer Tuesday evening, the air warm and heavy, the sound of cicadas outside, and the gentle breeze causing tree branches to brush against my window sill, absolute calm. The house was silent; it was already 11:25 PM, the only reason I wasn't asleep? I was busy revising for the upcoming major exam. Honestly, I didn't need to; I had the knowledge and even more, but I'm a perfectionist. Why settle for the minimum when you can achieve much more?
Anyway, I allowed myself to study a bit more tonight since I have no classes tomorrow. I had some music playing in the background, loud enough for me to hear but not too loud to distract me. Tonight, nothing could distract me!
*knock knock knock*
I jumped in surprise when I heard faint noises coming from the window at the other end of my room. I thought I was impossible to distract, but apparently, I was wrong.
I walked slowly towards the window; it was probably my cat scratching to come in. Well, I wasn't sure; what else could it be?
I pulled the curtain covering my window to open it and came face to face with Chris Sturniolo.
WAIT, WHAT? What is that rascal Chris doing at my window? Oh my god, if my parents hear him, I'm done for.
Let me give you a brief recap to better understand the situation and the reason for my current anxiety.
My name is Y/n, and honestly, there's not much to say about me. I'm a quiet girl, the complete opposite of what one would consider "cool" and "popular." I'm disciplined, polite, courteous, studious, discreet – in short, the perfect little girl who will have a good diploma, an excellent job in an excellent city, and an excellent family. I do what is expected of me without questioning, and I never, I repeat, NEVER go against the rules.
Chris, on the other hand, is Chris. If I were a boy, I would be absolutely the opposite of that guy. He plays on the high school lacrosse team with his brother. He's a real jerk – sorry, I don't want to sound vulgar, but he's a real jerk. He spends his time skipping classes to do who knows what with who knows who. He thinks he's "cool" and "popular" because all the girls run after him, but the truth is, he's just a good-looking guy with a devilish behavior. Back in elementary school, I had a crush on him; when he found out, he mocked me, and he never stopped, even now in high school. So, yes, he's an immature jerk.
What could Chris possibly be doing at my window in the middle of the night when my parents are at home? My father has always been strict about no boys in my room, and certainly not in the middle of the night?
"Are you going to let me in?" he said, looking up at me.
"Absolutely not! How do you know where I live? You can't stay here; you have to leave now!" I shouted in a panic, looking around to make sure no one saw him here.
"Let me in, and I'll answer all your little questions," he said with a smirk.
"Oh my god," I whispered to myself, bringing my hand to my forehead. "No, Chris, you don't understand; my parents are here. If they know there's a boy at my window—"
"Okay, if you don't let me in, I'll knock on the front door, pretending to be your boyfriend. It's up to you," he said, cutting me off before moving away from my window.
"NO! Okay, fine, come in," I sighed. "Damn, damn, damn," I muttered to myself as I moved away from the window to lock the door to my room.
"Your room is cool," he said, dropping onto my bed as if it were his own. "What's his name?" he added, picking up a stuffed animal lying on my bed.
"Get your filthy body off my clean bed, please," I snapped, grabbing my stuffed animal from his hands with a brisk motion.
"Relax; I just wanted to chat," he said, rolling his eyes before getting up to move towards me. "Nice pajamas," he said with a smirk, scanning my body with his eyes.
I blushed uncontrollably; I was wearing really short shorts and an equally short tank top. What? It's fine; I know what you're thinking. I'll stop you right there; it's summer, it's super hot, and I didn't anticipate Mr. Troublemaker's surprise visit.
"What do you want?" I asked timidly, stuttering and crossing my arms to hide my stomach. I hated having my body exposed in front of others; it made me feel vulnerable.
"I need your help for the exam coming up next week," he said, moving towards my desk. "And before you refuse to help me, I have an offer you can't refuse!" he said, turning to me, leaning against my desk this time.
"And did you have to come and ask for my help in the middle of the night, Chris, seriously?" I replied, annoyed.
"I stole the test papers from the teachers' lounge. If you help me, you can memorize all the answers by heart," he said, crossing his arms with a smug smile.
I laughed when he presented his "impossible to refuse" offer. What an idiot. "If you think that I, Y/n, will help you cheat on the most important exam of the year, you're way dumber than I thought."
"Oh yeah? You seemed pretty bothered by the bad grade you got in gym yesterday," he said, advancing towards me. "You know, I know the coach really well, well enough to be able to change your grade."
Damn, it was the only grade below average I had all year. It's true that it would be convenient to make it disappear. What? No, Y/n, you're crazy; this is Chris we're talking about, he's a manipulator, and you're falling into his trap. Oh my god, stop; I need to get him out of here.
"Why do you want me to help you? Find the answers yourself," I replied, giving him a dark look.
"Because I don't feel like it, and you love this kind of thing," he said, rolling his eyes. "Y/n, it's beneficial for both of us. Look, you ensure you get 100% on the exam, in addition to seeing your gym grade increase, and it will save me from repeating this year."
"Get out of my room, Chris; I'm not going to help you cheat. It's bad," I said, crossing my arms.
"Bad? Who do you think you are? Come on, we don't care; it's just an exam!" he said, laughing.
"You don't care, but I do," I said, pointing to the window he came in through.
He smiled arrogantly before licking his lips, looking at me. "You're more tenacious than I thought," he said, plunging his eyes into mine. "I like that."
I won't lie; his words made me a little nervous at the moment. Okay, I said he was a big jerk,
not that he was ugly!
"Oh, are you blushing because of me? Does what I say affect you?" he said, slowly approaching me.
"G-Get out of my room," I said weakly, stepping back.
"Why? You don't want me to leave your room, Y/n. Don't lie to me; I know you like me," he said confidently, continuing to advance towards me until my back hit the door of my room.
I swallowed hard as I felt my throat tighten due to the proximity between us. "You're insane. I would have to be crazy to like a guy like you," I said timidly, avoiding his gaze.
"I'm sure I can drive you crazy," he said, grabbing my chin to force me to look him in the eyes.
A wave of heat engulfed me; I slightly opened my mouth to get more air. My heartbeat accelerated; I must be all red now.
"Listen," he said, getting even closer to me. "If you help me with this exam," he said, placing his hand in the small of my back, "in addition to the things I've already offered you," he said, slowly lowering his hand to my hip, "I can also show you a few things you might like," he said softly, plunging his eyes into mine.
I cleared my throat. "What are you talking about?" I said all timid.
"Oh, come on, Y/n, you know exactly what I'm talking about; you're dying for it. Look at yourself," he said with an arrogant smile. "And if you want to know, I'm dying for it too," he whispered in my ear, making my knees weak.
"Stop lying, you don't give a damn about me. You're acting like an asshole with me; you only want the answers to this exam," I said, stuttering and trying not to be swayed by his sweet words.
"Y/n, I know where you live because I follow you after school every day to make sure nothing happens to you on the way," he said, moving his face a few centimeters away from mine. "I spend my time teasing you in the hope of getting closer to you," he added, running his hand over my cheek. "If I didn't care about you, I wouldn't have even noticed the bad grades you're getting in PE," he said, rolling his eyes.
If these were lies, then he's a very good liar. Oh my god, my mother always warned me about bad boys like Chris, but I felt like fainting when his hand tightened a little more around my hip. "Chris—"
"You know what, screw this exam; I'll study it on my own. Let me kiss you, and I promise to leave your room and never bother you about this exam again," he said, almost sounding desperate. Wait, is he serious? Chris has a crush on me? I must be dreaming; it can't be possible.
"Chris, if this is a joke, it's really not funny," I said uncertainly, furrowing my brow when he moved his face closer to mine.
"I'm dead serious," he said, fixing his gaze on my lips.
My eyes were switching between his and his lips; I didn't know what to do. I was bewildered by the situation until Chris placed his soft lips on mine. My eyes instinctively closed to better savor the moment. I was kissing the most handsome guy in high school in my room, just like in the movies. His hand slid under my shorts to grab my buttock, making me sigh in surprise during our kiss. He seized the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, dancing with mine. He started smiling against my lips when he heard a pathetic moan die in our kiss as he began to knead my buttocks.
"Chris," I said, separating our lips and pushing him by his chest.
"What?" he said with a confused look as I moved away from him.
"We're not going to do this," I told him, shaking my head. "My parents are here; you can't just barge into my room in the middle of the night and coerce me with sex to get the answers to this damn exam," I said, offended.
"Y/n, I don't care about the exam. I did all this to get closer to you!" he said, taking a step towards me.
I stepped back when he tried to grab my hand to hold it in his. "Okay, prove it," I said, crossing my arms. "You said you would leave me alone about this exam and leave my room if I let you kiss me," I added, heading to the window to open it again.
He opened his mouth to speak before changing his mind, shaking his head.
"Show me you're not a liar," I said, pointing to the window.
He sighed before moving towards the window. "I'm not a liar, Y/n," he said, furrowing his brow before starting to pass his legs through the window.
There, I was finally rid of him. I should feel relieved, right? So why does something deep inside me break seeing him leave?
Without thinking, before he had time to pass through my window entirely, I grabbed him by his T-shirt to kiss him again. I couldn't let him go like that. I don't know what was happening to me, but everything was screaming at me to throw myself on his lips and never leave them.
He straightened up before closing the window with one hand. His other hand came to caress my cheek.
I had absolutely no idea what I was doing; we headed towards my desk without paying attention. He grabbed the back of my thighs to make me sit on my desk just behind me. His lips left mine to move towards my neck, his arms tightened around my waist, and my thighs surrounded his.
"Do you still want me to leave your room now?" he said arrogantly.
"Shut up," I said, feeling my breath quicken when he started sucking on the skin of my neck between his lips. "Chris, you can't leave marks," I said, a little panicked.
"Why not? You're mine," he said authoritatively, raising his face in front of mine and grabbing my throat in his hand.
"First, I'm not yours, Chris, and second, my father will kill me if he sees hickies on my neck," I said, chuckling timidly at his reaction.
Without a word, he began kissing my neck again before slowly moving towards my chest, making me anxious. "What are you doing?" I asked, stuttering.
"I'm leaving my mark where I'm sure no one else will see it," he whispered before grabbing the fabric of my tank top to slightly uncover my breast and place his lips on it.
"Chris—" I said, jumping when he started sucking a hickey on that sensitive area.
I could feel shivers running through my entire body; my back arched, and my thighs instinctively tightened around his waist while a few silent moans escaped my lips.
"Are you always this sensitive, or am I the one making you feel this way?" he said, raising his head towards me with a big smile.
I started blushing uncontrollably when he said that; I didn't even have a response to his question. I had never done anything like this with a boy before.
"Did you lose your tongue?" he asked, tilting his head to the side before coming to fix a strand of hair behind my ear.
"I-I don't know," I said in an almost inaudible voice. "Is it wrong?" I asked, embarrassed.
"No, not at all," he said, frowning. "What do you mean by 'I don't know'?" he asked, confused.
"I—" I didn't know what to answer. A silence settled at that moment; he looked me in the eyes before realizing.
"You've never done anything with a boy?" he asked, surprised.
I simply shook my head from side to side, too embarrassed to say anything.
His arrogant smile covered his lips a few seconds later. "Do you want me to teach you?"
My eyes widened when I heard that. I hesitated for a moment before nodding timidly.
"Use words, princess," he said, stroking my waist to encourage me to speak.
"I want you to teach me how to do it," I said, feeling a wave of confidence in myself.
He smiled before kissing me again; this time our kiss was slow and gentle, as if to reassure me. His hands played with the hem of my tank top. "Can I take this off?" he asked calmly.
"Take yours off first," I asked directly. I didn't want to be the only one exposed for some reason. My statement made him chuckle, and he separated from my lips to remove his t-shirt.
I took a moment to observe him. Unconsciously, I started biting my lips, and Chris smiled at my reaction. "It's your turn now," he said, moving towards me again.
Once again, I hesitated for a moment, looking into his eyes. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to, you know," he said without breaking eye contact.
His words were enough to make me feel comfortable. I took my tank top off over my head without overthinking it. "But I want to," I said before covering my chest, feeling a wave of embarrassment engulf me.
Chris immediately grabbed my arms. "You don't need to hide from me, Y/n," I let him remove my arms from the way, and he directed his eyes to my chest, licking his lips. "You're beautiful," he said before pressing his lips against mine once again.
I felt more and more at ease with him. My hands, which were previously at the back of his neck, started to travel along his chest down to his waist, where he hastily seized my wrist. "Slow down, princess."
"What? Did I do it wrong? Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?" I asked, panicking. He chuckled at my reaction.
"No, you didn't do anything wrong," he said, smiling. "We have all the time in the world, don't rush yourself," he whispered before kissing my neck again.
My hand found its place in his hair, and he gradually directed his kisses towards my chest, prompting me to throw my head back at the new sensation of his lips around my nipples.
One of his hands slipped between my thighs, making me jump and tilt my head forward at the proximity of his hand to my sensitive area.
He began to gently caress my pussy through my clothes, causing a silent moan to escape my lips.
I could feel my head starting to spin due to all this sudden stimulation; I couldn't help but squirm in all directions. "Can I take off your shorts?" he asked, looking up at me.
"Y-yes," I replied timidly before he slowly removed my shorts and resumed kissing me, this time moving down to my stomach, making me breathe harder.
He stopped kissing me when he reached the level of my white panties to examine them closely. "You're so wet that I can see the trace on your panties," he said with a smirk.
Embarrassment washed over me. "I'm sorry," I said softly, trying to close my thighs, but he grabbed them to force me to keep them open.
"Don't be," he said, bringing his head closer to my thighs. "I like it," he said, planting a kiss on my clothed pussy, making me shiver. "You're so sensitive; I bet I could make you come in less than 5 minutes with my tongue," he said, running his fingers between the fabric of my panties and my skin.
"Do you want me to do it?" he asked, looking up at me with a sly smile. I timidly nodded. "Say it," he said in a firm tone.
"What?" I asked, a bit embarrassed.
"If you want me to do it, you'll have to ask me, Y/n," he said arrogantly.
"Chris," I said in a frustrated moan; I could see his smile widening, amused by the situation. He returned to plant another kiss on my still-clothed pussy. "I-I want you to make me come with your tongue," I said, almost inaudibly moaning.
"Anything you want, princess," he said satisfied before removing my panties. I lifted my hips to help him, and he placed a few kisses around my sensitive area before putting my legs over his shoulders and diving his head between my legs.
The upper part of my body leaned forward slightly at the sensation of his lips around my clit. Instinctively, my hand pressed into his long, wavy hair, and I couldn't control the soft moans that escaped me. "Y/n, quiet down; your parents will hear you," he said, chuckling against me before getting back to work.
His tongue applied pressure to my clit, driving me wild. One of his hands reached for my breasts to play with them, mainly to prevent me from squirming all over my desk, which kept creaking. He moved his tongue in circular motions, gradually increasing the speed. After a few seconds, I felt something new in my lower abdomen, as if it were knotting due to the pressure. My thighs started to tighten slightly around his face without me realizing it. When I lowered my eyes to look at him, I could see his beautiful blue eyes already fixed on me, admiring me as if I were his last meal.
My eyebrows furrowed when all this stimulation started to take over. "Chris," I struggled to say in a weak voice; it felt like I was about to faint. "Oh my—fucking god," I said, throwing my head back and covering my mouth with my hand.
Chris didn't stop; on the contrary, he accelerated his movements, and his grip on my breasts became much firmer. He started moaning between my legs, and the vibrations of his moans against my clit were enough to push me over the edge. My legs began to tremble. "Fuck—Chris," I said before reaching orgasm on his face.
He slowed down the movement of his tongue before completely stopping to let me ride out my orgasm. "I told you," he said, straightening up and using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth, "less than 5 minutes."
I chuckled at his remark, "You never stop boasting, huh?" I said with a smile, and his hands came around my cheeks before placing a chaste kiss on my lips.
"Never," he said, smiling before I reconnected our lips, making him smile at my hungry kiss. "What do you want?" he asked, separating our lips.
"I want to pleasure you too," I replied, playing with his necklace. He licked his lips, looking into my eyes.
"Is that what you want?" he asked, pressing his pelvis against mine to make me feel his erection through his pants, and I nodded.
"Yes, that's what I want," I said with an innocent look.
He immediately reconnected our lips without waiting a second longer, then grabbed the back of my thighs to carry me to my bed.
He gently placed me at the edge of the bed before leaning forward to kiss me again. "If you want us to stop, let me know," I brought my hands to his belt to remove it while he looked at me with desire.
I lowered his pants and stared at his erect member. Suddenly, panic resurfaced. "You don't have to do this," he said, bringing his hand to my cheek.
I looked up to meet his reassuring gaze. "I don't know how to do it," I said timidly, "but I want to." I added, placing my hand on his thigh.
"Do what feels right, I'll guide you," he said, never taking his eyes off me, as I slid down his boxers to his ankles.
The apprehension and stress were still there, but it was too late; after all, I was already committed. I really wanted it; I was just terribly afraid of messing up. I stopped overthinking and took his member in my hand, giving him a look to make sure I wasn't doing anything wrong. He nodded to indicate I should continue. I began hesitant strokes with my hand, eliciting a moan from his mouth.
His hand came to caress the top of my head, and I threw him a last uncertain glance before taking him into my mouth. He flinched and took a step back when I started, and I immediately looked up at him in panic. "Sorry," I apologized embarrassedly.
"No, don't be. It's okay; you just need to avoid letting your teeth touch it. It's not very pleasant," he explained in a reassuring voice before coming back towards me.
I nodded, and this time, I made sure my teeth didn't touch him. His hand returned to my hair. "Yeah, like that," he moaned, making my pussy clench at the tone of his voice. I continued my movements with closed eyes. "You can use your hand for what you can't fit in your mouth," he said weakly, and I did as he instructed. I could feel how much he was holding back from thrusting into my mouth to avoid rushing me, and the muffled sounds from his mouth sent an electric shock to my pussy.
"Fuck, you need to stop," he said, throwing his head back. I pulled away and looked up at him, confused.
"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, feeling lost.
"No, baby, you did a great job. It's just that I was about to come," he said, caressing my cheek and catching his breath.
"Oh," I said, chuckling. "Maybe you can come inside me?" I said without thinking, excited by the moment; I wanted more.
"Y/n," he said, diving his eyes into mine before I got up, grabbed the back of his neck, and kissed him again. "Is this really what you want?" he asked before reconnecting our lips.
"Please," I said pathetically, guided by my desires and excitement at that moment. My hands tangled in his hair, and his hands firmly gripped my hips.
"I don't have a condom, princess," he emphasized, smiling against my lips.
"I have..." I said timidly before heading to my bedside table to take out a new box of condoms.
A sly smile appeared, and I could already feel his remarks coming. So, before he had a chance to say anything, I cut him off, "I'm a virgin, not irresponsible, Chris," I said, rolling my eyes when I stood in front of him.
"I didn't say anything," he said, chuckling, before pushing me onto the bed and positioning himself above me to kiss me again. "Are you sure this is really what you want, Y/n?" he asked, directing his lips to my neck. "I don't want you to feel forced into anything. What we've done already is more than enough for now," he added.
"Jeez, Chris, stop talking," I said, chuckling, before grabbing his head between my hands to kiss him even more passionately than before.
"Are you that impatient?" he said, chuckling. "I need to stretch you a bit first, okay?" he said, directing his fingers towards my entrance. I simply nodded, and he pushed the first finger inside, prompting me to raise my head at the sensation. "Is it okay?"
"Yes, you can add another finger," I said, feeling my breath quicken. He inserted a second finger and began to move them in and out to stretch me.
"I wish your parents weren't here so I could hear you better, Y/n. You make beautiful sounds," he said, burying his head in my neck and curling his fingers inside me to stretch me further.
"Chris," I said, moaning and pulling slightly on his hair, "I need more."
"Do you think you're ready?" he asked, looking into my eyes. He had never looked at me like that before; his gaze was tender and caring.
"Yes," I replied, nodding. He grabbed a condom and opened it with his mouth. I could feel the pressure building, but I wasn't going to back down. I was going to do it; I was ready to do it.
He put on the condom and positioned himself at my entrance. "Tell me if you want me to stop, and I'll do it immediately," he said, and I nodded. "It might hurt a bit at the beginning if it's too much for you—"
"Chris, just do it," I said, cutting him off when I felt the stress overwhelm me.
He began to push slowly inside me, scrutinizing any sign of discomfort on my face. My eyebrows furrowed at the burning sensation when he started penetrating me. "Fuck," I said, glancing down to see what was happening between my legs before letting my head fall back on the pillow. He stopped halfway to make sure it wasn't too much for me. "Don't stop," I said, breathing quickly, and he resumed his advance until he touched the depth, prompting me to bury my head in his neck to muffle a moan.
"Are you okay?" he asked without moving from where he was.
"Yes, you can move," I said before he began to make slow thrusts. At first, it burned a little; it was uncomfortable, but with each subsequent movement, the pain transformed into pleasure.
"Oh my god, you're so tight, Y/n, fuckkk," he said, moaning against my lips. His thrusts gradually accelerated, and my hand gripped his bicep.
"It-feels good," I admitted, moaning softly and clenching my jaw.
"I've dreamt of this for so long; it's even better than in my dreams," he said, gripping onto my hips.
"You dreamed of this?" I asked him, confused, not knowing if he was being honest with what he was saying.
"Mhm," he simply hummed before lowering his free hand between our bodies to massage my clit. "You're mine now," he said in my ear, and my grip around his bicep tightened with the stimulation he was providing at that moment. His hip movements accelerated again, knotting my lower abdomen for the second time tonight. "Say it," he added in an authoritative tone.
"I'm yours, Chris," I said with the little strength I had left. My mind didn't know where to focus at that moment.
"Yes, and this pussy is mine too, Y/n," he said, moaning in my ear, driving me crazy. "I want you to cum again for me, princess," he said, accelerating his thrusts, yet still gentle and delicate.
My eyes rolled back, and my legs tightened around him. "Let go, princess," he said breathlessly. "Cum all over me." With his words, I threw my head back and started clenching around him. "Fuck, I can feel you clenching around me, baby," he said, burying his head in my neck, and I started to climax. I grabbed his hand, placing it over my mouth to muffle any noise, and shortly after, he climaxed too.
"Oh my god," I said before he let all his weight fall on me, moaning one last time.
"I never want to move from here," he said, smiling against my neck.
"You'll have to before my parents wake up," I said, chuckling. "It's already a miracle they didn't hear us," I said, running my hand through his hair.
He sat up and withdrew from me before tossing the condom into my trash bin. I sat up, covering myself with my blanket. "Will this happen again?" I asked him timidly, looking at him as he put on his boxers.
"Of course, it will, princess," he said, smiling, before sitting next to me and rubbing my thigh. "Can I stay a little longer?" he asked, locking his eyes with mine, and I nodded.
He settled next to me, pulling me close and gently running his hand over my curves. "Send me the exam tomorrow; I don't have class. I'll give you the answers," I told him, looking up at him.
"I thought this was bad, and good girls like you don't do these kinds of things," he said, chuckling and furrowing his brows.
"Good girls like me aren't supposed to sleep with bad boys like you," I replied, straddling him to be on top, and he sat up to kiss me.
"I told you I'd drive you crazy," he said, smiling against my lips.
Masterlist.
871 notes · View notes
peachysunrize · 5 months
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𝑾𝑬𝑳𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑴𝒀 𝑪𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑹 𝑶𝑭 𝑭𝑰𝑳𝑻𝑯 ⬎
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❥ Rue • 19 • fanfic author • gif maker (my creations -> #ruegifs) • team Aemond & Aemond apologist • I only write for Aemond & Aegon ii and maybe Gwayne Hightower • NOT SPOILER FREE!
Ao3 -> peachysunrize
Smut ❥ / fluff ❦ / angst ఌ / dark content 𓂀
[personal blog @dreamphyrs <3 ]
Anons list✨
RECENT WORKS -> Tangerine Dreams | Owned | Insolent wench
Full masterlist under the cut⬎
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ONE SHOTS
• Lemon Tart -> p.1 [5.2k] ❥ ఌ/ p.2 (coming soon)
after six years of searching for his lover, Aemond comes across her bakery in Flea Bottom with his betrothed.
• Devil’s Doll [3.5] ❥ 𓂀
no one can do anything when Aemond Targaryen sets his eye on a sweet girl and comes to the party with her on his arms, and those who dare to say an ill word will face his wrath with a bullet in their head.
• Labyrinth [11.5k] ❥ ఌ ❦
falling in love is easy for most people, but not for Aemond Targaryen. How can a broken cold-hearted man be able to love the most gentle human Westeros has ever seen?
• The Ballad of a Dragon [3.1k] ❥ ఌ ❦
after an argument with your husband, you find him playing his frustration away and eventually apologizes to you on top of his piano.
• MAMMAMIA [3.08k] ❥ ft Aegon
Baela finds out about your crush on his cousins, who just happen to be the new rising star in music industry. And with the promise of meeting them, she forces you to go with her to one of their concerts. (Listen to MAMMAMIA by Maneskin)
• The Other Woman [8.58k] ❥ ఌ❦
you were supposed to be a secret, his temptation in the dark not his scandal after the taste of heaven you experienced together.
• The King’s retribution [3.6k] ❥
when he walks back to the Keep, Aemond finds his brother’s wife in distress while her youngest child keeps her awake. Maybe it’s time to show the King that no one can humiliate the one-eyed prince.
• Victory [1.9k] ❥
after his match, you find him in the locker room and decide to tend to him yourself. Rest assured, the rush of adrenaline in his blood leads to you rewarding him for winning the game.
• Corrupted by God [2.5k] ❥ 𓂀
after the battle of Rook’s Rest, Aemond comes back to King’s Landing as the heir to the throne with a newfound determination to make the Queen of the Seven kingdoms his queen as well.
• Insolent wench [3.07k] ❥ 𓂀
he finds the master of whispers’ daughter in the council room in the dead of the night playing with the marble ball he gave to Aegon earlier, the dragon in him is ready to burn or succumb to her.
• Owned [1.5k] ❥ 𓂀
After nearly following Silverwing to Dragonstone mindlessly, Aemond comes back to the keep to posses you, his Queen once more.
SERIES
• Tangerine Dreams (ongoing)
being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.
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One Shots
• MAMMAMIA [3.08k] ❥ ft Aemond
Baela finds out about your crush on her cousins, who just happen to be the new rising star in music industry. And with the promise of meeting them, she forces you to go with her to one of their concerts. (Listen to MAMMAMIA by Maneskin)
@peachysunrize / all rights reserved. Do not plagiarize, copy, translate and share on other platforms or here without permission. Mind you reblog ≠ share
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duhnova · 6 months
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Cry-Baby | Choi Seungcheol
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synopsis. decked out in leather and riding a harley davidson like he’s got business with the devil, choi seungcheol was the talk of your small town. everyone looked down on him and when you come home for the first time since starting uni you find it hard to believe that the pouty lipped kid you tossed off the merry-go-round when you were six was some slick haired delinquent. 
pairing. biker!choi seungcheol x fem!reader 
word count: 4.9k
genre. fluff, angst, opposites attract, drama?, kind of college au
warning(s): mentions of parent death, mentions of parent illness, alcohol, let me know if i forgot anything!
this is apart of a 90's collab! you should check out everyone elses fics! - there might be a smutty & more angsty part 2 to this if there’s enough interest! also huge shoutout to @onlyhuis and @onlymingyus for proofreading for me, ily guys <3
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When you left for university three years ago you never wanted to return home, the small town always made you feel claustrophobic. But now you’re sitting on a train, about an hour away from your childhood, the sony walkman you got as a graduation present from high school sat in your lap as you listened to the same nirvana cassette on repeat. 
The nerves of being home began to get to you as the familiar views of the old trailer park that sat outside your town came into view. An old pickup truck that adorns the same white and blue paint of your best friend's truck drives down the road that travels along the train tracks and it makes you wonder if it’s him coming to meet you at the station.  
“We’ll be arriving at the station within the next five minutes.” The worker smiled at you as she continued down the aisle of seats to tell the other patrons of the cart that the train will be stopping for a couple minutes at your stop before embarking to the next station. 
You put your walkman in your pocket so that you aren’t scrambling to gather your things when the train stops. Just as you got your backpack situated the train jolted a little as its breaks screech to a stop. 
“Ladies and gentlemen we have reached our next stop.” The worker's voice is drowned out by your music as you stand up and grab your suitcase before hopping out the door with the worker's help in lifting your bag down. 
“Thank you!” You call out and wave as the door closes and the train takes off again, no one else got on or off. 
“Y/N!” You hear a familiar voice call from behind you, the roar of a diesel engine brings a certain comfort to you that you haven’t felt since you left. 
“Gyu!” You call out with a smile on your face, the change in his appearance being more shocking in person than you thought it would be, having only seen him in pictures he sent from the crappy disposable cameras he and his friends like to use. All the work he’s been doing on his family's ranch has paid off as his muscles glisten with dirt and sweat. 
“I’ve missed you cherry pop.” He hugs you tightly as you laugh at the nickname he gave you years ago because you always had cherry lollipops on you. 
“I’ve.. missed you too.” You choke between laughs and the way he was squeezing you a little too tightly. 
“Sorry,” He laughs as he lets you go to grab your suitcase instead. “Are you hungry? It was a long travel day for you.” 
“I could eat.” You smile as you take your headphones off to let them rest around your neck as you follow your best friend to his truck that was still running and emitting a gross smell of diesel. 
“Great, let’s go to pops diner.” He lifts your suitcase over the side of the truck bed like it was nothing before he opens the door for you to get in. The leather of his seats were warm from his heater that left the cabin toasty unlike the train car you had been sitting in almost all day. 
“How are you?” You ask about the owner of the diner who was well into his 70’s at this point, his restaurant having been open for almost five decades at this point.
“He’s doing good, got his hip replaced last summer,” Mingyu shifts the car into drive after he reversed out of the spot he parked at. “Still kickin, Cheols mom still works there too.” The mention of your old childhood playmate makes you smile bittersweetly. The last time you two had talked was before you left for college and he seemed angry about everything in life and he took it out on you leaving a sour taste in your mouth and the lack of communication between the two of you over the past few years.  
“That’s nice, how is she doing? I remember last you told me she was in the hospital for something.” Mingyu sighs a little from beside you.
“Yeah she was, took me forever to get anything out of Cheol about it but she’s doing good now. Or so I’ve been told.” Seungcheol had always been hard headed and he’d rather talk about other people's problems than his own so it didn’t surprise you that Mingyu had to dig for some type of answer from him. 
“Is she working today? I’d love to see her…” Your voice trailed off as you thought about the lady’s son, who you desperately wanted to see as well but how you left things made you hesitant.
“Not today, she’s off for the weekend.” You nod, mumbling that it’s nice that she takes the weekend for herself. 
“I know you and Cheol had some blowout when you left but I’m going to see him later after I drop you off, if you wanna come with you’re more than welcome too.”
“What’re you two doing?” Mingyu was surprised you didn’t immediately shoot down his offer, he thought it would take more convincing.
“We’re going to the river for a bonfire with Jeonghan and Wonwoo.”
“They’re home too?” They had both left for college around the same time you had.
“Yeah, they come home every break they can.. Unlike someone I know.” He laughs lightheartedly. You huff quietly, unsure of how to respond. How do you respond anyways? You never wanted to come back, memories weighed heavy on your heart and the only thing keeping you to your hometown was the friends that resided in it.
“Hey,” Mingyu's voice softens. “I get it, you got out when you saw the chance and I’m proud of you.” 
“Thank you.” Your voice was just as soft as you watched the familiar scenery zip by. A nice silence fell between the two of you as he focused on driving, the train station sitting a couple miles out from the town you used to live in. 
“The bank sold the house by the way.” Mingyu broke the silence, a nervous sweat settled on his forehead as he broke the news to you. 
“About time.” You sigh, another weight you didn’t realize you were holding lifted off your shoulders. “Less for me to deal with now.” 
“You’re not upset?” Mingyu looks at you out of the corner of his eye. 
“No,” You sit up straighter and begin picking at the hem of your jacket. “My father was a drunk with thousands of dollars of debt he owed the bank so I’m not even surprised they sold it to make back what they lost and then some I’m sure.” 
“At least an actual family bought it instead of some corporation.” Mingyu tried to lighten the mood. “They just moved in and they have a newborn and a cute dog that I think you’d like.” 
“What kind of dog is it?” You side eye Mingyu, appreciative of the fact he moved on from the sensitive topic so quickly. 
“A corgi, they said it’s a black tricolor… Whatever that means.”
“It’s the fur color, it’s mainly black with a little bit of brown and white?”
“Yes! See this is why you went to college, you’re smart as hell.” You shake your head with a smile on your face. 
“You’re smart too, Gyu, and not going to college doesn’t affect that.” He shrugs as he slows his speed down after approaching the edge of town. 
“If you say so cherry pop.” Just as he pulled up to the first stoplight the roar of a loud engine could be heard from a distance. 
“I bet that’s Cheol.” You look at Mingyu confused before your question gets lost once you see the helmet less Seungcheol sped by on a motorcycle you had never seen before, his once dark hair was bleached blonde.
“That’s Cheol?” You asked as you watched him disappear down the opposite street you and Mingyu turned down. 
“Yeah, he changed quite a bit since you left.” That was an understatement as Seungcheol looked as big as Mingyu, maybe bigger if you dared to think.
“I can see that, can’t believe he bleached his hair.” 
“He did that pretty recently actually, said he needed a change and decided the worst that could happen is his hair would fall out.” 
“He’d look good with a buzz cut.” Mingyu laughs at the thought causing you to laugh too. 
“You should tell him that tonight when we hang out, I guarantee he’ll either blow a gasket or take you seriously and actually cut his hair off.” 
“He would drown me in the river first before he’d listen to me.” 
“I don’t know cherry pop, you were very influential to him for a long time. Remember how he did your bidding all throughout elementary school?” 
“Yeah cause I tossed him off the merry-go-round at recess and he decided he was scared of me until junior high.” 
“I think we were all scared of you after that,” Mingyu puts the car in park after pulling up to the diner. “The older kids wouldn’t mess with me either because you scared them too.” The fact Mingyu is younger than you by two years makes you question reality as he’s much bigger then you now and has been since junior high. 
“Still wild to think about.” You laugh as Mingyu hops out the truck to run over and open the door for you, he’s never allowed you to open your own door since he started driving. 
“Oh, I guess Cheol’s mom is working today.” Mingyu closes the door behind you and puts the key in the handle to lock it as he stares at the familiar woman through the window that was taking someone’s order. “Someone must’ve called out of work today.” 
The two of you walk to the front door together, making small talk about anything and everything. Seungcheol’s mother greeted the two of you with a smile and handed you two menus once you sat down. 
“It’s good to see you sweetheart.” She smiles widely at you, she was always like a second mother to you growing up especially after you mothers untimely passing. 
“It’s good to see you too, you look great.” You smile warmly, despite any animosity you might feel for her son right now you will never be able to hate this woman. 
“I’ll start you two off with some water?” You both nod, prompting her to walk away. 
“So how’s the ranch?” You scan the menu, already knowing what you want but wanting to check to see if anything new was added. 
“It’s good, Cheol doesn’t work there anymore.” Mingyu doesn’t look up from his menu to see your surprised expression. “Mr. Johnson offered him a job as a mechanic after seeing the work he would do on the farm equipment.” 
“Mechanics suit him.” You smile at his mother when she comes back with your waters. 
“Do you two know what you want?” You both nod, letting Mingyu order first despite the look he gave you after you shrug and take a big gulp of your water. “Are you getting your usual sweetheart?” She turns to you.
“How do you remember what I used to order?” Your eyes widen.
“You’d order the same thing almost every time you’d come here since you were a kid and I’ve been working here longer than you’ve been alive so I have it practically engraved into my memory.” She laughs quietly as she takes your menus. “You and my son are the same in your consistency in ordering the same thing.” 
“Oh.” You could feel your face heating up at the thought. You’re happy she didn’t bother to push a conversation as she went to help more people that came in. 
“You and Cheol are as opposite as opposite can be.” 
“You don’t say.” You roll your eyes playfully. 
The banter between you and Mingyu continued on, even after your food came you both found something to poke — and trust me there was a lot to poke at that has happened over the past three years that couldn’t be conveyed over letters and the occasional call here and there. 
“We should head out now, get you to the ranch so you can clean up and rest before tonight.” Mingyu paid for your guy's food like the gentleman he is and held the door open for you as you walked out into the warm summer air. 
“Am I obligated to go swimming tonight?” Mingyu shakes his head. 
“You’re not but we’ll all be swimming so,” He hops into the truck after opening the door for you. “Just to be safe you might wanna wear your swimsuit.” 
“Got it.” You nod your head before watching out the window again, committing your old hometown to memory again. The drive to the ranch was peaceful and long, sitting a few miles out of town on the opposite side of where the diner was. 
Once you got to Mingyu's house and greeted his family and caught up, you went to the spare room upstairs to unload your bags and lay on the bed to unwind. A quick nap was sure to help the oncoming headache you got so after changing your clothes to be a little more comfortable you crawl under the freshly cleaned blanket and almost instantly knock out. 
A couple hours pass by before Mingyu is knocking on the door to wake you up, telling you the guys are heading to the river now and that you two need to get going soon.
Groaning quietly as you sit up in bed and stretch, it felt nice to not have to worry about anything as this is the first summer you decided to not take summer classes as you'd be graduating early after this upcoming fall semester. Getting up and taking your walkman out of your bag again you took out the nirvana cassette and put in green day instead, the music more uplifting and giving you an ounce of energy to put your swimsuit on and a pair of shorts and jacket to cover yourself. 
“How was your nap dear?” Mingyu's mother greeted you as you walked down the stairs, your friend standing by the door waiting (im)patiently for you. 
“Amazing, sitting all day in those train seats takes a toll on your back.” You take your walkman headphones off and half hazardously shove them into your jacket pocket. 
“Tell me about it, I can’t sit for too long now without going stiff.” She smiles warmly as she wishes you two well as you b-line to the door after Mingyu told you to hurry up. 
 “Couldn’t even give me time to say bye.” You grumble as you shuffle up to the truck where Mingyu was holding the door for you. 
“Sorry cherry pop, the guys are waiting for us and we still gotta get drinks.” 
“Why are we getting the drinks?” You buckle up and put your headphones back on, both of your tastes in music are dramatically different as he puts in a country cassette into the radio. 
“You’re home, they want you to get what you want instead of drinking what they like.” 
“They still drink that shitty dollar beer right?” Mingyu nods. “Then we drink the same thing, not much has changed as I still couldn’t afford the expensive stuff being at college.” 
“Great, that makes this run cheap.” The ride to the corner store was quick, the street lights lining the road leading from the ranch to town making the trees look ominous. 
Once you guys had secured the alcohol you made your way to the river. The long body of water stretched for miles outside of town in both directions, and the one spot you guys have always met up at since junior high was hidden away. You had thick bushes to climb through and poison ivy to look out for as it wasn’t a regular site on the river to be at. 
“Mingyu! Y/N!” Jeonghan called happily when he saw the two of you emerge from the bushes. The bonfire was already large and roaring while Cheol and Wonwoo were already in the water swimming. 
“Hannie!” You smile and hug him happily, he was always the least affectionate person so when he offered you a hug you always took it. 
“How have you been? It’s been years!” He pulls away from the hug to greet Mingyu while sitting down in his chair and pats the one next to him that looked to have been occupied by Seungcheol at one point based on the jacket hanging on it. 
“I’ve been good, college has been tough but I'm graduating a semester early.” You smile at Mingyu who hands you a beer before he sets the box down and makes quick work to strip down to his swim trunks so he can join the other two in the water. “How have you been?” 
“I’ve been great, graduating a semester later than I should've, but I took a light load last semester because I was back and forth to be here for Cheol while his mom was in the hospital.” you nod your head while taking a drink of your beer. You never realized that his mom being in the hospital was that bad. 
“Mingyu didn’t tell me much about her being in the hospital so I didn’t realize it was that bad.” You look out at the three guys who are currently climbing the rock in the middle of the river so they can jump into the water.
“He wanted to write to you, ever since you left it’s all he had been beside himself about but when his mother got sick he wanted to write to you even more.” Jeonghans voice was soft, nervous that the said male would hear your two's conversation and start hounding him for spilling the secret. 
“I wanted to write him too, but-“
“But you couldn’t, I’m not as hard headed as Seungcheol so I get why but I don’t get why you couldn’t have let him down sooner.” You sigh, this was a conversation you knew you’d have eventually as Jeonghan was Seungcheols best friend outside of you and he was the only one that knew about you two. 
“I wanted to, believe me it was never my plan to break things off the day I was leaving but I was selfish and didn’t want to let him go yet.”
“You are selfish,” You laugh quietly, thanking him. “But he’s selfish too, this town holds too many bad memories for you and he wanted to tie you to it when you finally had the chance to escape it.”
“You know, I asked him to come with me.” You took another sip of your beer, your eyes back on the blonde who seemed to feel you staring as he tilted his head back and gave you a bitter smirk. “When I first got the acceptance letter and I was on the fence about going, he wanted me to go but he also wanted me to stay and so I told him to come with me so I didn’t have to choose.”
“He never told me that.” Jeonghan opens up another beer and gingerly takes a sip of it. 
“I’m not surprised, I think he thought it was a joke.” You finally tear your eyes off of Seungcheol to look at Jeonghan. “After that I didn’t tell him I committed and just continued to relish our time together.”
“Y’know, he wanted you to go because this was your dream but he wanted to be a part of that dream and you keeping that from him and then cutting ties with him when you left is what broke him.” 
“I didn’t mean to.” You mumbled and looked down at your half empty beer can. “He was the one that told me that if I wasn’t willing to make things work then he didn’t want to hear from me.”
“Well he’s dumb,” Jeonghan takes another sip. “But so are you.”
“I know.” You close your eyes and sigh, letting your head lull back on the chair. 
“Are you going to talk to him while you’re home? It is the first time you’ve been home since leaving after all.” 
“This isn’t my home anymore.” You don’t bother to open your eyes as you take in the warm night air. This hasn’t been your home since you left and it hasn’t felt like home for far longer, the only thing (or person) that made you feel remotely anchored here was Seungcheol. 
“It was your home at one point, and I'd argue it still is because Seungcheol and the rest of us are here.” 
“Corny loser.” You mumble, a small smile cracking at your lips before you sit up straight. “I’ll talk to him, I promise. I had been prepping myself all week to mend things between us while I was here.” 
“Good.” Jeonghan smiles and downs the rest of his beer. “Now hurry up and finish drinking so we can go join them in the water before it gets colder.” 
“You’re going to die in that water, it’s too cold for you already.” You laugh before downing the rest of your beer so you can strip down to your swimsuit, making sure not to toss your walkman around too much. 
“I’ll manage.” He shrugs after taking his clothes off too before walking cautiously up to the edge of the water. He barely touches it with his big toe and he curses. 
“Told you,” You stand beside him and watch his reaction. “You just gotta go in as quick as you can.” You show him how it’s done as you take a deep breath in and hold it as you quickly walk into the water before you’re deep enough to dive under. 
“Show off.” He huffs before he follows in your footsteps, cursing the whole way up to his shoulders. 
“You did it han,” Wonwoo pats him on the shoulder. “You’re shivering already.” 
“It’s fucking cold and you’re all insane.” He huffs and starts to swim around a little, letting the cold water soothe his warm skin. 
“I think it feels good.” You had popped back up next to Mingyu who was standing with Seungcheol who was watching Jeonghan worried. 
“It does feel good.” Mingyu lets the water support his body as he starts to swim backwards, no longer being a wall between you and the ire of your freshman year of college. 
“It’s good to see you Y/N.” Wonwoo gives you a small smile before he also swims away, leaving you and Seungcheol alone and seeing the look on Jeonghan's face in the distance makes you believe that this was planned. He clears his throat when he seems to realize you two are alone.
“Um,” Is all he manages to say before you’re taking a deep breath and turning to look at him. 
“Hi Seungcheol.” He flinches at the use of his full name.
“Ouch, hi litt-“ He catches himself using the old nickname he had for you. “Hi Y/N.”
“God I hate this.” You can’t be bothered to hide the fact that the whole situation makes you sad and angry already, you missed him and he was right there in front of you and you were both acting like you wanted nothing to do with each other, which might’ve been true right after you had left but as time went on it faded into longing and anger at oneself.
“You hate this? How do you think I feel?” He crosses his arms and looks down at you. 
“Cheol I-“
“I don’t want to hear excuses.”
“Ok asshole I was going to apologize but not anymore.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him so you could swim away, the conversation you had with Jeonghan felt like complete bullshit now. 
“Wait,” he grabbed your arm to spin you back around, the water splashing violently at the fast movement. “I’m sorry, for everything.” It was rare that he’d ever apologize and right now it felt out of place as he had no reason to apologize at the moment. 
“I practiced how this conversation would go for weeks and this was not one of the ways I accounted for. You weren’t supposed to apologize first.” You look up at Seungcheol who was just staring at you silently now, his hand still holding tightly on your arm. “Seungcheol I-“
“Stop calling me that.”
“Stop interrupting,” You huff, the smallest smile forming on his face “I’m sorry for how I left things and for everything leading up to when I left.” 
“Y’know, I spent most of the first year you were gone blaming you, and then I started blaming myself until my mother made me realize that neither of us were to blame and then I spent the remainder of the time just numb.”
“If you stopped blaming me, how come you didn’t write to me?”
“You never wrote to me.” He sounded hurt and you were hurt too but you hated the pain in his voice and it caused you to move closer to him, hoping you could erase even just a hint of it.
“I’m sorry, there was never a time where I didn’t think about writing to you but your words kept playing in my head about how you never wanted to hear from me if I left our relationship behind.”
“It wasn’t much of a relationship then was it, we were just friends exploring each other,” That’s what you liked to tell eachother when you were in denial about your feelings. “I wrote letters, most of them are stamped and sitting in my desk drawer because I couldn’t bring myself to send them.”
“Yet you bought stamps for them?” You raise an eyebrow curiously. 
“Yes,” He huffs, trying to hide the ounce of embarrassment he’s feeling. “I’d get these bouts of feelings where I’d want to send them and I’d get all the way to the post office with a stamp on the envelope and the second I’d park I’d back out and go back home only to hide it away with the others.” 
“Cheol…” 
“I know it’s probably stupid and I’ll just burn them all now since you’re home and-“
“I’m not staying,” You cut him off for some reason. “I mean I’m staying for the summer but I’m going back home to finish my last semester of college so I can get a job at a vet clinic there.” 
“That’s ok, this time I promise I will write.”
“You should come with me.” You blurt out like you did all those years ago.
“I can’t leave my mother, she won’t leave this town and with her health fluctuating I just can’t.” He gave you an actual answer this time unlike he did when you were younger. 
“I get it, she needs you.. But one day you have to leave this place, don’t you think?” Your hand gently touches his arm as you drift even closer to him. 
“I never thought of leaving until you left.” He mumbled as his hands moved to ghost over your sides that were under the water. 
“One day?” You sounded hopeful. “Even if we’re old and married to other people do you think you’d still leave?” 
“I..” His voice trailed off as your breath got closer to his face. “I’d never marry… unless it was you.” He whispered before he finally kissed you, the weight of what he said disappearing as you both got lost in the taste of each other. After what felt like an eternity you finally pulled away out of breath, a quiet whistle could be heard from behind Seungcheol somewhere and you assumed it had to be Jeonghan since Mingyu would’ve quite literally jumped the two of you. 
“Cheol- '' He cuts you off.
“Let's enjoy the night, yeah?” He didn’t want to talk about what he just said, or what the future would hold anymore. It’ll take time, you both realized, for things to go back to normal but for now you were content with how things were because this time he knew what to expect when summer ends, he just hoped that you’d change your mind about long distance relationships. And you hoped he’d change his mind about rotting away in this small town.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months
Text
arsonist's lullaby
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words: 3.3k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, female receiving oral pregnancy, proposal <3, established relationship, arson, lots of talk about fire lol, camping, mentions of rafes bad childhood
you watch as rafe strikes the match. he prefers it over a lighter, holding it between his finger as the flame inches lower, lower, until it gets too hot and he's tossing it into the fire pit, right on the bushel of kindling that instantly takes light.
rafe looks up at you, the fire sparking in the reflection of his eyes as you make your way towards him. he doesn't have to say a word, the way he sits back in the camping chair, silently telling you to take a seat.
you slide onto his lap, placing yourself sideways with your bum on his thigh. you look at rafe for a minute, just admiring his illuminated features as the orange flame flares up and down with the wind. you listen to the sound of rustling leaves, the distant lapping of waves on the nearby lake.
“are you having fun?” you ask rafe. he may be your boyfriend of two years, but it can still sometimes be hard to tell.
rafe nods, before grinning and leaning forward to press a kiss towards your lips. “i always have fun with you.”
you weren't sure that he would enjoy camping, especially tent camping it, but you always used to go every summer with your parents, and when you asked if he would be down to go, he didn't think twice before saying yes.
“you're sweet.” you giggle, leaning in to press the side of your head against his shoulder, tucking your nose into his neck, inhaling his scent after a long day of relaxing on the beach and taking strolls through the well trodden paths through the woods.
“you're probably the only person alive who would call me sweet.” rafe places his hand on your hip, squeezing it gently. 
it's not that rafe puts on a scary demeanor with everyone else, it's more like that's his natural state and you bring out a side meant just for you.
you kiss his neck, it's not enough, but it's a thank you for his vulnerability, his willingness to please you.
you both sit in comfortable silence, your eyes closed as you recover from the day while rafe stares at the fire, the flames calling to him. he holds you tight to his side as he reaches and tosses another log into the fire, a spit of sparks shooting up.
“who taught you how to build fires?” you ask rafe, looking at the now smashed teepee of sticks he had built up.
“i guess i taught myself.” rafe shrugs. “i always used to build them in the fire pit in the backyard whenever my dad would take sarah to softball practice.
“mmm.” you hum, pressing another kiss to his neck, before moving to his jaw. “we should go into the tent.”
“yeah.” rafe nods, picking you up effortlessly, his pants already beginning to swell just from having your lips on him. he walks quickly to the tent, having to duck down to fit inside, placing you on the inflatable mattress.
you let out a giggle as rafe zips the tent closed before tugging his shirt off, opening your arms up as he sets himself over your body, one hand sneaking beneath your shirt to your waist while his other hand cups your jaw, holding you in place as he kisses you.
“i love you.” you whisper to rafe before picking your shoulders up off the bed, letting him pull your shirt off.
the windows of the tent are zipped mostly shut to protect your privacy from those camping nearby, but you left the top open to just a screen after double checking there was no rain forecasted.
you look up at the stars, your soft moans and rafes low grunts lost to the music of the forest as the wind moves through the trees.
--
“here, baby.” you hand a crumpled up newspaper to rafe. “we need it hot to roast our marshmallows.”
“mhm.” rafe finished building the fire, the embers still slightly warm from your fire last night before he places the newspaper at the center to get the fire going quicker.
“gosh, i can't wait.” you pat your stomach. “it's been so long since ive made s'mores.”
“i don't think ive had them in… ten years.” it may even be more than that. rafe hates the way it makes you pout. his lonely childhood hurts you as much as it hurts him. he fears sometimes even more from your reactions.
“come on.” rafe taps his knee. you really should have just packed one camping chair, it's not like you're sitting on your own as he pulls you into his lap, pressing kisses to your cheeks and jaw as you wait for the fire to grow.
“mmm, the s'mores…” you blink your eyes open, not even realizimg that you've relaxed so completely against rafe that you were almost asleep.
“ill make one for you.” rafe grabs the stick from the nearby table. “how burnt do you like your marshmallow?”
“just a bit.” you smile as rafe rolls his eyes. 
“i like mine burnt.” 
“oh im sooo surprised.” you joke as rafe sticks the marshmallow into the flames, just until it gets gooey before making your smore for you, adding extra chocolate for your sweet tooth.
“so good.” you moan when you take a bite, making rafe shift you slightly on his lap.
you eat s'mores as the moon rises, minutes ticking by until all of your graham crackers are used up.
you let out a yawn, eyes blinking the smoke out of your eyes as the wind momentarily shifts before blowing back in the same direction.
“gonna go put pajamas on.” you press a kiss to rafes forehead before moving to the tent, glad you went for a bigger size with enough room for you to get dressed and undressed. you sigh as you sit down to change your socks before laying back on the bed, not even realizing how exhausted you truly were as sleep takes you.
rafe checks on you after a few minutes, smiling when he realizes you're absolutely fine, just already in a deep sleep. he zips the tent back shut, keeping one eye on it as he goes back to the fire, building it up bigger and bigger as the flames grow, watching with excitement until he runs out of logs to add.
--
rafes fingers twitch. you've been home for two weeks from the camping trip. he wonders when is it an appropriate time to suggest going again. he longs to feel the heat of a blaze against his skin, to feel the ultimate power of building a fire to his will.
“hey.” your soft voice interrupts his thoughts, his face easily shifting from one of intensity to soft love.
“hi baby.” rafe presses his lips against yours in a greeting.
“missed you today.” you hum. you work two days a week at a local animal shelter, mainly just to keep busy and do something to feel accomplished, and they almost always coincide with rafes work, but today was a rare occasion where he was off and you were busy, leaving rafe to roam the house in boredom until you get home.
“missed you more.” he says, placing a hand on your waist to pull you into a more intense kiss, his lips smashing against yours. “how's casper?”
you blink, it takes you a second for your mind to start working after the passionate kiss before the corners of your lips turn down. “still no one wants to adopt him.”
you couldn't believe it at first when the adorable little white puppy came into the shelter, you thought for sure someone would snatch him up instantly, until you saw that he's missing his two hind legs. clearly people in the area don't want to take the initiative to have a dog with only two front legs.
“im sorry.” rafe sighs. he kisses you again, this time soft and comforting. “it's best he waits for the right family though, yeah?”
rafe echos the words you always say when a dog takes a little longer to get adopted. better to wait for a forever family than to wind up back in the shelter after a few weeks.
“yeah.” you nod. “so, what'd you get up to today?”
“nothing.” rafe says honestly. 
“nothing?” you raise your eyebrow. “what are you gonna do when im gone next weekend?”
rafe let's out a curse. he forgot you were going on a girls trip. out of town to some spa that he has the address and phone number, along with any other information he might need to know, typed out in his notes when you first told him about it. just in case.
“shit, i was trying so hard not to think about it that i pushed it out of my mind completely.” he says with a light chuckle, but his face isn't one of happiness. 
you swipe your hand through his hair, combing back the dark blond strands. “maybe we need to get you a hobby. you can build a lego set or do a paint by numbers.”
it's mostly a joke, but you do want rafe to enjoy himself while you're away. you make a mental note to yourself as you go into the kitchen to make dinner to find something to keep his mind occupied while you're separated for the first time for longer than a day since you began dating.
--
rafe looks at your contact on his phone. his finger twitches over the call button, despite you just getting off the phone after talking for an hour, skipping out on drinks with the girls to chat, but you didn't tell rafe that, telling him everyone was in their rooms and that you had plenty of free time to keep him occupied.
he sighs, clicking on your contact picture. you set it at the beginning of your relationship, a kissy face selfie and rafe hasn't changed it since.
“fuck.” he groans, heartbeat starting to rise as a bead of sweat forms on his forehead, anxiety building.
he walks out of the house, no set route in mind. rafe tells himself the walk will clear his head, but what he put in his pocket before leaving says different. he needs to get the feeling out somehow.
he walks and walks until it's dark outside, moving towards the run down side of town until he comes to a small shack, purposely taking mostly abandoned roads. rafe scopes out the area quickly, looking around to see if theres anyone nearby, close enough to see him.
when the coast is clear, rafe lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls the matchbox out of his pocket, a fresh one, having to repurchase after using an entire box camping. 
rafe isn’t sure how easily the place will light up. the shed looks dry and old, and when he looks inside, its empty other than some old long forgotten gardening equipment. rafe strikes a match and sets it on the wooden window sill, watching as it burns out. rafe continues striking the matches and tossing them at the shack as sparks ignite the scraps of wood. 
rafe steps back when he throws the last one, tossing the empty cardboard box into the flames as they slowly take over the structure. rafe smiles, the anxiety that was building up inside him blowing away with the smoke.
the flames eagerly ate up the wood, spreading quickly and before rafe knew it, the already unsturdy roof was collapsing in on itself, sparks adding to the stars in the sky.
he stands for a moment longer, the warm orange glow causing an odd comfort. rafe knows its wrong, but he can’t help that he feels better after setting the fire, walking away as the wood turns to ash, the shack long forgotten and reduced to nothing.
--
rafe paces, strikes a match and lets it burn to his fingertips before blowing it out, paces some more, then pulls out another match. he’s not anxious this time, doesn’t feel the itch to set a place ablaze as he did two nights ago, having to shower three times before he finally got the smell of smoke out of his hair.
now, he’s just impatient. the front door is open, letting in a cool breeze and giving him a view of the driveway as he walks around the foyer, waiting for your car to pull in, for you to finally return home.
rafe blows out a match right when he sees your car turn down the street, his eyes widening as he tosses the matchbox onto the hallway table, stepping out onto the porch, unable to keep himself farther away, moving down the steps as you pull into the driveway.
you barely put the car in park before you’re flying out the door, jumping into rafes arms as he spins you around.
“oh my god, ive missed you so fucking much.” rafes arms are wrapped firmly around your waist, not letting your feet touch the ground as he walks towards the door.
“wait, rafe-” you giggle.
“we can bring your bags in later.” rafe says. he has other priorities.
“no, the car is still on!” rafe sighs and sets you down. you quickly run to pull the keys out of the car and lock it, rushing inside with rafe quick behind you. you toss the keys on the table, noting the matchbox but you're too busy being swept off your feet and carried up the stairs by rafe.
he lays you on the bed, only now pausing to take a minute. you may have only been gone for three nights in total, but it felt like a lifetime to rafe. he leans forward, pressing your lips together before continuing to just stare at you.
“stop looking.” you tug at rafes collar. “do something.”
rafe listens to your command, moving quickly to sink down the bed, tossing the hem of your dress up, not even bothering to take your underwear all the way off, simply sliding them to the side and burying his tongue in your cunt.
 --
“did you see a second shack burned down?” you look up from where you were mindlessly scrolling on social media. 
of course rafe knows. but he certainly isn’t going to just admit that to you. he can’t have you leaving him, he’d probably burn the whole town down if that happened.
“oh really?” rafe says, keeping his voice level, disinterested.
“yeah.” you zoom in closer on the picture, nothing more than a pile of ashes and dust. “damn, i wish i could have seen it on fire.”
the fire department didn’t even get to it until it was completely burned to the ground with how isolated it was. just as rafe planned it.
“really?” his eyebrows raise.
“yeah.” you nod. “i love fire.” you give him a mischievous smile. you surely don’t mean it in the same way as rafe does, but he feels a little more at peace. if you somehow found out, maybe you wouldn’t leave him because of it, or at least hear him out.
“hmm.” rafe just hums.
“we should build a firepit in the backyard.” you mumble the suggestion, but rafe quickly nods. “yes.”
you giggle, setting your phone down to move off the armchair and onto the couch next to rafe. “you wanna keep practicing your fire setup for the next time we go camping?”
rafe smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. “maybe.”
--
rafe tosses another log onto the flame, smiling at you as you rock gently in the hammock, set up precariously close to the fire so you can feel its warmth as you relax, the summer coming to an end.
“you look beautiful.” rafe says. the orange light illuminates your features, along with the twinkling fairy lights strung up along the back porch.
you just smile at him. you don’t need words, not anymore.
rafe pokes at the fire with a stick, opening up the center to allow more airflow into the bottom as the flame grows larger, but not too large, never when you’re around. 
“come lay with me.” you open your arms to rafe, who moves with ease onto the hammock next to you, the fabric pushing you both close to each other, glad you opted for the larger size so you could sit together. “i love you, baby.” rafe kisses your head, looking around the yard, at the fire, then up at the stars. “i love this life.”
“i love this life too.” you press your hand to your stomach. there’s a surprise you’ve yet to tell rafe. its only a suspicion, partially confirmed by a stick test, but you want the doctors confirmation to be sure before you tell rafe. you look up at him, tilting your head to the side so you can see his face. “you’re happy?” “yes.” he says honestly. “when im with you, i am.” 
“ill always be with you.” you grip rafes hand. you turned down opportunities for trips with your girlfriends. if they didn’t want rafe to come along, it was a no. you can’t blame them, but you refuse to leave him alone after putting the pieces together.
the first arson could have been a coincidence. but the second, on a night you were also away from rafe? you know its him. it’s why you suggested the fire pit in the backyard. why you won’t force him to spend another night without you, alone and anxious, having to face the demons of his past, his childhood. you know he’s not a bad man, not at heart, not deep inside. 
you turn to rafe, tears brimming in your eyes, overwhelmed with your feelings for him. “i love you so much.”
“baby.” rafe coos, bringing a hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. your hands run all over each others bodies, the moon and fire illuminating you as you work bits of clothes off, just enough for you to sink down onto rafes cock, more grinding together than thrusting at risk of spilling out of the hammock.
“god, you feel so good.” rafe groans, hands gripping your waist as he pushes in before making a miniscule movement back.
“filling me up perfectly.” you undulate your hips. sex with rafe is often wild and intense, but moments like this, where you’re just indulging in each others bodies, relaxing and slow, just like the swinging of the hammock.
“yeah, gonna fill you up real good.” rafe smirks, the corner of his lip twerking up.
the words spill out of you. “i think im pregnant.” you immediately want to take them back when rafes eyes widen.
“rafe-” you lean back, a look of regret on your face, but rafe just pulls you back in, slamming his lips against yours, hips moving faster, hand gripping your ass, pulling you against him as he cums, cock swelling inside of you before releasing.
“if you're not pregnant, im gonna make sure you are.” he gasps out, chest rising and falling, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.
“you’re not worried?” you ask. clearly the couple glasses of wine you had at dinner are giving you a loose tongue. 
“no.” rafe says honestly, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “i would be if this was anyone else. you know…” he swallows thickly. “you know how messed up my childhood was. how hard my dad was on me… i feel like this is a chance to heal that, to treat my kid better than i was ever treated. and i want this with you.”
“i want it too.” you coo, kissing him softly.
“oh, and i guess there’s no better time for this.” rafe chuckles, his softening cock still inside of you, fire dying to just embers as he reaches to his shorts, halfway down his thighs and pulled a small black velvet box out of his pocket, flipping it open with one skilled hand, turning the ring to glint in the orange light.
“will you marry me?”
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xuchiya · 7 months
Text
need to know [j.yunho]
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₊˚.༄ || filth valentines m.list || hongjoong || seonghwa || yunho || yeosang || san || mingi || wooyoung || jongho || ₊˚.༄
₊˚.༄ I heard from a friend of a friend That dick was a ten out of ten ₊˚.༄
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  Yunho has been busy lately and you were not liking one bit of it. It has been weeks since you wanted to hang out with him and considering that he had been rejecting your invites; maybe it is time to spend some days without and let yourselves be on your own stories.
You can't blame Yunho for taking responsibility for his father's company so why would be a bad friend to him?
You dress up in less clothing for your stream much less by a short crop hoodie that shows a little of your cleavage then your tiny boxer shorts. A streamer of summer, that was your nickname given by your fans— Summer. You have always been a streamer for playing horror whether be a psychological or thrill chasing games, maybe sometimes by playing valorant.
    You were at first called out for dressing way too– short nonetheless you explain that you tend to be really comfortable with playing in less clothing and people see your excellence in playing. You throw on anti-rad glasses before starting your stream, “What is up my dudes! It’s your streamer– Summer and we’ll continue playing Poppy Playtime!”
 While waiting for the game to load, you read the comments, “Looking good as always …  Thank you … Playing alone today? Yeah since they didn’t want to play this one. San is too scared …  Where’s Yunho? Oh he’s currently busy— he’s been busy nowadays so I had to play this alone. “
  After the chapter ended, you were left with a heart attack and sore throat from getting sudden jump scare but overall you enjoy the whole game, you look towards at the camera, “Well that is it for the chapter 2 since the chapter 3 will be out soon and …” glancing at the time to see that you have been playing for just an hour, “aye it’s still early. Do you guys want me to play or just talk with you guys?”
  Some comments were saying to talk since it has been a while since you went live so you went with their request, “Okay okay I’ll answer some questions then …”
 “Since when did I start playing? I think it was around 3 years ago that I started streaming through the gameplays? I was 14 when I started doing my gameplays …”
“You dance? Of course, Yeosang and Wooyoung are actually my classmates in a studio we enrolled in.” 
“Where’s Yunho? Oh he’s at work, I’m little sad he has not been spending time with me like … Tell me your schedule, I got a lotta new tricks for you .. I’M KIDDING HAHAHA!”
“Do you like Doja Cat? Yes, a hundred percent yes, I’m a huge fan of hers speaking of that …” You opened your phone to show them your last song you listened to, “I swear this is my go to song when I’m feeling myself you know…” You chuckle showing them a hand gesture down to our body.  Some of your fans ask you to play the song, some of them want you to sing or mouth the lyrics, you cackle at the last one.
  “I can’t do that, it looks weird but we can still let this play and talk …”     The music plays—affecting not only your fans, not you who is feeling the actual lyrics but the one who has been watching from their phone ever since you started streaming. 
 “Do you want to know a french word? Je suis excite.. Je suis excite, that means I’m excited right? Excite probably is exciting .. Am I right?” you said your eyes were widened a little bit, looking at the comment section for confirmation and you see some were saying yes, right and correct.
 But little did you know, it meant something different else.
 Their pants had made themselves quite uncomfortable, tight and suffocating as their eyes not only stare at your gameplay but at your display cleavage. As much as they tried to not to look like a pervert but how could he— He has desires that he tried to stir away; afraid to ruin your friendship but with you said those words as if telling him that you are horny. Adding to the fact you just said something along the line of having ‘tricks’.
  “Ohmygosh I should go to sleep or Seonghwa-oppa would smack me in the head … I’ll see you guys soon.” You did your outro and the live ended.
  Yunho tucked back his phone, walking inside your shared apartment. He and you were able to share an apartment under your brother’s permission since they both work for the same company and he did not mind as long as you both had an agreement or house rules settled.
 Those words were a huge trigger to him as he had been evading your presence; as much as dumb it sounds, his dick can not cooperate with him. Whether you were in your hoodie or favourite pajamas, nothing beats when he wants you all for himself. Love you, praise you, worship you, choke you, dick you down—
  “Oh yuyu!” You were startled when you exit your room to see Yunho leaning on the counter with a cold drink in his hand, his eyes landing on your figure and all his last string snap when you just walk in with your zipper open, exposing your tits out.
  You tried to cover them last minute but Yunho was faster, grabbing your wrist, spinning you to pin you on his chest. He leaned down, voice gruff from the pain in his pants and overwhelming horniness spilling out of his body, “nice way to greet me … tits out? Do you walk around with this …” his other free hand ran up to your chest, playing with your nipple and giving it a squeeze, making you moan a little too loud but to Yunho's liking.
 “I-I thought you won’t be home … fuck! “ Yunho breathy laugh, giving your other boob the same treatment but this time adding a slap on it, your back arching in the pain and pleasure making your ass brush up on his hard dick in his pants. 
  “Feel that? you’re the cause of it … now be a good girl for me and choke yourself on my cock.” 
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“F-fuck! … Yunho– Oh my God!” your face was red and sweaty from how many hours Yunho had you pinned down on your bed, taking you from behind; had his dick ramming himself back and forth, hitting every inch of your walls then his tip knocking at your cervix several times as if trying to reach a deeper part of you to bury his cum.
  “You don’t know how long i wanted to fuck you so dumb that it makes me want to go faster and harder on you .. do you like that? Do you want me to keep hammering you down on this bed like a bitch on heat?” You never knew Yunho was into this kind of thing, rough and mouthy.
 You were crying out of pleasure as Yunho drilled his cock deeper and deeper until you clench around him that had him smacking his (veiny) hands on your ass, “Yu-Yunho— eugh fuck– I’m gonna cum, gonna cum– !” Yunho continues slamming his hips as your eyes roll back as you reach your orgasm, creaming his dick and milking him dry. Yunho chuckles, wrapping one of his hands around your throat, pulling you closer, bottomless.
  “You like that huh? You like it when I fuck you this hard?” You dive on the sheets, Yunho's pace persistent in making his dick wet and creamy on your puffy pussy. You look over your shoulders, engulfed in overwhelming bliss, you speak with assertive tone, “clap me, choke me, bite me Yunho.” 
 Yunho pulls out, leaving just the tip inside as he adjust his grip from your throat down to your hips, in spite of that he shoves back while you pulling back, “FUCK!” you cried, your fingers circling around his wrist, “Yu-yu — wait you’re going too fast.”
 He shakes his head, his eyebrows arching, tongue poking the inside of his cheek, “I haven’t cum yet and we can fuck all night baby.” He keep thrusting back and forth,leaning forward to grasp both of your nipples in his fingers, twisting, pulling them.
  Your head swirling with so much euphoria that it sent electricity vibrating down your pussy as you were reaching your second orgasm quickly, this time a little different from the last one, long strings of ‘oh’ and ‘fuck’.
  “Tell me baby, i need to know one thing …” He licks his lips, pressing you on his bare chest, continue to pound inside of you, almost nearing his climax, “come on baby, i didn’t fuck you that dumb did i? Now answer me.”
  You were breathing hastily, orgasm around the corner but you know best that if you don’t speak now, Yunho won’t let you cum, “Wh-What is it?”
  “Have you been fantasising about this one? Did someone tell you?” You nodded, your head moving swiftly, you felt his chest vibrate as he breathy laughs, “Yeah? 
“ y-yes…”
“From who?”
  Your throat clogged yet you oblique, moaning when his tip brushes on your cervix once again, your dignity slowly crashing but who could you blame? You were fantasising all of this for the longest time that you slipped out to one of your friends about your huge daydream to Yunho that one of your friends may or may not slip about him.
  “I heard .. I heard from a friend of a friend … that your dick is better than their exes.” His hip halted, pulling out— groaning at the emptiness but you were taken back when Yunho pulled you off the bed and towards your balcony; your eyes widened as he pushes you the makeshift knitted lounge chair.
  “Well one …” yunho’s lips brush on your ears warmly, “I have never met your friends …” He inserted himself back in, slamming back on your pussy, “And second well .. they’re not wrong.”
 Yunho pace didn’t falter as he locked his arms on yours, your arms pulled on your back; your chest full on display, bouncing each time Yunho hammered back. Broken groans left Yunho and you were also reaching your climax, “Fuck yunho!” 
 “Take my cum like a good girl!” Your eyes were clouded in euphoria, feeling full as he spurted all his cum inside you, painting your walls white. Your hole clenches on his dick before gushes of your juice burst, wetting his dick and the lounge chair.
  Yunho let go of your arms and replace his softening dick with his fingers, brushing them left and right as you squirt, your lips puckering
“Oh look at that, such a good girl. Keep squirting baby~” Yunho slaps, wipe your pussy letting you ride on your orgasm before he pulls away. Your knees gave out, thankfully Yunho caught you, wrapping his arms around your shoulder and at the back of your knees. He leads you both to your bathroom, setting you on the cold marble tile of your sink.
   Yunho settles you on the bathtub, warm water with bubbles of rose were floating on the water. You sigh contentedly, “Is this what I get for flashing you my boobs to you?”
  He laughs, shaking his head as he settles at the other end of the tub, “You want a princess treatment?” His eyes watch you carefully, cheek flaring. You played with the foam bubbles, “If you don’t mind me being your girlfriend then yeah, I want a princess treatment.”
Yunho leans towards you, leaving a soft kiss on your lips, "Deal."
 It was something you and Yunho had in common. Straightforwardness. Yet here you both are, in a situation you thought is just all in your head and fantasy.
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