#I keep getting ‘no one but your followers will see your post’ pop ups and I go and fix whatever they want

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: double chapter friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You put on the outfit Sy picked out. The lilac skirt and the matching razor back tank top are a bit mismatched in style but the colour is almost exact. You add a silver necklace to add a bit more to the top and even out top and bottom. 

You take out a pair of white keds and slip them on. As you do, Sy stand on the door mat with Aika prancing excitedly around him. He deepens his voice and tells her to sit. She obeys, still trembling with elation as he hooks her leash into place. 

As you stand, you find his attention on you. His eyes scale up and down your body as you brush your hand up and down one arm. He tilts his head and his cheek dimples as he exhales through his nose.  

“Well, let’s go,” he commands and Aika jumps to her feet as you nearly leap in place. 

He opens the door, your keys already in his pocket, and he waits for you to go ahead of him. He turns to face the door as he shuts it. He has the leash around two fingers as he slides the keys in the lock and turns. 

As he turns towards the hall, he stops and looks at you. You waver, uncertainly, cautious of a single misstep. He offers the leash. 

“Why don’t you take her, sweetie?” He says, “two of you needa get used to each other.” 

You take the leash as Aika waits patiently. At least she’s trained well. You only ever had cats so you’re not entirely sure about dogs. They’re cute, sure, but a lot stronger. 

You continue down the hall and to the stairs. Sy walks calmly beside you. You’re happy at least that the rage no longer roils off of him, though a tension remains. You sense it in the subtle twiddle of his thick fingers and the way he keeps popping and cracking his joints. 

Outside, the sun glints blindingly above, casting a shine much too bright for your mood. Aika stops and the leash tugs in your hand. You turn back as she pees in the grass and step closer to slacken the leash. Oops. You make a face. 

“It’s okay, sweetie, you’re doing good,” Sy encourages, “she can be a bit wild when she wants to. Probably more like you than you think.” 

His suggestion makes you want to frown but you won’t let him see your discomfort. You continue down the sidewalk, keeping pace with the sniffing dog as Sy lazily swaggers behind you. She stops again then crosses to the other patch of grass. You follow her. 

If it wasn’t for your company, you might enjoy the day. There’s bumblebee’s digging into stores of pollen, buzzing around vibrant petals, and birds cheeping from the interior of bushes, and wispy clouds across the sky. You might have taken a picture or two, even though your phone lens rarely catches the true beauty of the world. 

You continue around the corner and suddenly Aika darts forward. She pulls you nearly off your feet and you stomp clumsily after her, trying not to topple. You see what she sees only as she gets within snapping distance of the fluffy cat. The feline hisses before dashing away and you pull back the barking dog. 

“Aika,” Sy says firmly and quiets the canine, “good girl.” 

The silt in his voice makes even you freeze. You peek back at him and hold out the loop of the leash. You recoil as you notice the phone in his hand. Your phone. The little pearly wrist band hangs from the corner of the blush pink case. He has the lens aimed right at you. 

“Say hi,” he waves from his side of the phone, “got my girls out for a nice walk in the sun.” 

“What are you--” you quiet, realising what must be going on. 

“Your fans want to see you, sweetie,” he chimes. “Isn’t she cute? My lady. Waited for me so long.” 

He turns the camera around, holding it at arm’s length as he comes to stand beside you and faces the sunlight. You gulp as his hand goes to your hip and he pulls you close, leaning in to press his jaw to your head, angling the phone up to capture both of you. You try to smile. 

“Finally going public,” he sounds almost giddy, “military sh—stuff. Couldn't disclose it til I got home but here we are.” 

He turns his head and presses a kiss to your temple. He purrs and slowly releases you. He stands straight and backs up, once more aiming the camera at you. You feel like you might shatter into pieces. 

“We’re gonna grab some coffee. There’s a cafe around here. You’ll remember it. She did a live back in March. Got the vanilla chai, didn’t you, sweetie? I been waiting this long to get back and try it with her,” he commentates, oblivious to the people who glance in his direction. He keeps his arm extended. “Go on, Aika’s getting antsy.” 

You look down at the dog and she looks up at you. You spin and continue down the pavement. You should scream and shout and tell the world that this man is crazy. Yet it doesn’t matter. There’s probably a single viewer, if any. You realise now, he was probably your only fan. The others you’ll chalk up to bots or other weirdos. 

A trickle of ice flows through your chest. He knows where the cafe is. How long has he been here? How long has he been watching, not just on the phone? You don’t know why you keep asking. It doesn’t change a thing. 

You approach the short iron fence that marks off the patio of the cafe. You slow and Sy stands at your side, showing the tables and patrons to the camera. He rubs between your shoulder blades. 

“So how ya wanna do it? You wanna wait with Aika or you wanna run in?” He asks. 

You gulp. There is not better option. It’s all just the same. 

“I’ll get the coffee,” you offer and untangle the leash from around your wrist. “What do you want?” 

“Hm, good question,” he says, “why don’t ya surprise me. You know I got a sweet tooth.” 

“Right.” 

He takes the leash and you turn, stiffly marching through the gate and up to the door. You enter and as you’re shut in, you clutch the sides of your neck and blow out through your lips. No, you don’t know he has a sweet tooth. You don’t know him. As much as he scares you to death, he’s starting to make you really angry. It’s just how he talks as if you actually know who he is! He’s a stranger. A creep! 

You stand in line and only remember to step up for your turn as someone taps your shoulder. You mumble an apology and step up. You hadn’t even checked the menu. You look at the specials board and try to wet your dry tongue. 

“Um, white mocha,” you order in a croak, “and a uh, a lavender latte. Thanks.” 

The barista offers to add on items from the bakery. You decline and pay, already spending enough on the overpriced coffee. You shuffle along to await your order and mull your options. None. You have none. 

When your number is called, you grab your drinks and quickly spin around. You follow another customer to the door and he holds it open for you. He smiles as you step through and you thank him. 

“Not at all,” he steps out after you. “You got your hands full.” 

“It’s really nice of you,” you say as you walk just ahead of him, turning your head to glance over your shoulder. 

“Pretty girl like you. How could I not,” he says as you reach the gate, “have a good day, miss.” 

“Uh,” you’re surprised by the compliment, “you too, sir.” 

You give an awkward purse of your lips as you stand in the open gate. You look around and find Sy watching you. You go to him and hold up the drinks. 

“Um, I got the white mocha... not sure if you like that.” 

“Ooh, white mocha, sounds delicious, just like you,” he purrs, “and what did you get?” 

He takes the cup, Aika’s leash around two thick fingers. You stand dumbly, staring at the phone he keeps pointed in your face. 

“The lavender latte,” you answer flatly. 

“Well, the lady and I are gonna have our coffee date,” he says to the camera as he flips it around, “walk the pup and all that. Hope you all have a good day. Right, sweetie?” 

He once more puts you on the stream. Your lip trembles, “sure, yeah. Have a good day everyone.” 

You hold a shaky smile and he taps the screen several times with his thumb. He slides the phone into his short’s pocket and tastes his mocha. He waves you down the sidewalk and Aika takes the lead. He’s quiet as he slurps from the plastic lid. 

“That boy,” he speaks at last, “said you were pretty.” 

You blanch and turn the cup in your hand. The heat seeps through the sleeve and adds to the sheen across your skin, “er, I guess. I don’t know.” 

“Who was he?” Sy asks harshly. 

You flinch and peek up at him. He’s not happy. His entire demeanour has shifted. 

“I don’t know. A stranger. He just held the door,” you shrug, “guess he was being nice.” 

“Being nice? Shouldn’t be talking to strangers,” he reproaches. 

You nearly choke. Yeah, you shouldn’t. He taught you that well. 

“You are a pretty girl,” he says, “so I’m just lookin’ out for you. Some men...” 

You keep your eyes ahead as you fight to hold your composure. You drink from the cup, tasting the floral foam, and swallow. You force the breath from your chest and steady your nerves. 

“Sorry, I... won’t do it again.” 

He hums and reaches to grab your hand. His large one swallows yours. You don’t pull away, even as you desperately want to . He walks along with you, swing his arm slightly. 

“Isn’t this nice, sweetie?” He purrs, “you and me and Aika. Like a little family.” 

You grit your teeth and your aching cheeks fall. You can’t smile any long. You try to hide your face as you hover your mouth over the cup, “yeah,” you wisp out, “it’s nice.” 

💜

When you get back to the apartment, you’re exhausted yet adrenaline has you wide awake. Sy lets Aika off her leash and feeds her as you toss your empty coffee cup. You linger around the bin nervously, uncertain what to do next. You’re trapped again within these walls that once spoke of your freedom. 

Sy groans and stretches his neck. He runs his hands over his shaved head and combs his fingers through his thick beard. You step away from garbage before he notices you hiding. 

“Hot out, I’m beat,” he yawns, “what about you, sweetie?” 

“Yeah, uh, kinda,” you hug yourself and sway, “but um, not too bad.” 

“Ugh, one thing I was happy about was gettin’ outta the heat,” he pulls on his shirt and lifts it over his head. The fabric is darkened around the chest and arms with his sweat. More of it glistens in his body hair as he strips away the tee.  

You chew your lip and go to turn the fan on, turning it to oscillate. You sense him in the edge of your vision. He hangs the shirt across the back of a dining room chair then comes back to the living room. You stay close to the wall. 

“Er, Sy,” your heart jumps as your doubt clogs your throat. 

“Mhmm,” he flops onto the couch and leans back. He’s shameless and shirtless. His muscles flex along his arms and chest. He’s huge.  

“Do you think I can have my phone? I wanted to check my messages,” you push your palms together and twist your hands. 

“Don’t got none,” he says, “forget about that. Let’s disconnect. You and me, sweetie, let’s enjoy a quiet night in.” 

You want your phone but you know better than to push him. You’ve seen what happens when you do. You peer over at the dent in the wall. 

“Sure,” you go to him and sit on the couch, keeping a foot between you. “Do you wanna watch something?” 

You reach for the remote and he stops you. He snatches your hand back and wraps his arm around you, pulling you to lean into the couch with him. He crowds you as his scent suffocates you. It smells like sweat and generic deodorant. 

“We don’t need TV, sweetie, let’s just enjoy each other,” he reaches across you and rubs your upper arm. 

“Um,” you nearly choke, “it’s almost dinner time--” 

“It’s early,” his voice is rocky, “sweetie, it’s alright. Just relax. It’s finally just us.” 

“Sy, I... I should get some work done,” you sniff. 

“You should take it easy. You work too hard,” his hand brushes along your shoulder and to your neck. He drags his knuckles up your throat, “you’re gorgeous, you know that? This colour,” he slips his hand back down and touches the top of the tank, “looks so good on you.” 

“Thanks, I, er,” you squeeze your thigh and gulp. You can’t help the tremor that rolls through you, “Sy, please,” you reach up and grab his hand, “I should--” 

“It’s okay to be nervous. I am too, sweetie,” he rasps as he leans in, “but I can’t wait any longer.” 

He frees his hand from yours and cradles your face. He dips his head and you press your hand to his chest, helpless to stop him as he smothers your mouth with his. You let out a muffled gasp as he crushes his lips to yours, his tongue poking around eagerly. His hand crawls around the back of your head as he traps you against the couch. 

Your fingers curl against the muscle of his chest and he groans. He pulls you against him, falling back with you until he’s flat on the cushions. He brings you over him, and arm hooked around you as his other hand stays on your head. His tongue invades your mouth as you struggle to breathe past his hunger. Your brain screams at you to bite him, to smack, to do anything, but you’re paralysed with futility. 

#captain syverson #dark captain syverson #dark!captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #sandcastle #follow you anywhere

[falsemortal]

Home

#not sure if Instagram just hates me OR someone keeps reporting me 🤷 #I keep getting ‘no one but your followers will see your post’ pop ups and I go and fix whatever they want #for the longest time it was my pfp of Evil Homer so hoping that since I changed it I’ll be freed from the hell of my echo chamber #hackearney #travis x laura #travis hackett #laura kearney #my art #sketch #the quarry

[porcelana-r0ta]

let the mourners come

Title: let the mourners come

Ao3 Link: Only available to Ao3 users

Word Count: 3045

Summary:

It started, as most things do with Danny Fenton, as a joke.

It ended, as most things do with Jazz Fenton, with things better than they were before.

xxXxx

When Danny finally gets a Twitter, it’s during Elon Musk’s shit show takeover. He’s able to secure a good Twitter handle thanks to people leaving en masse and fleeing to Tumblr. He knows about things that happen outside of Amity Park (he is terminally online rather than chronically, after all), but he still doesn’t think anything of using @TheJoker as his handle, even knowing about Gotham City’s clown troubles. It’s just going to be a shitpost account, anyway, one that dances in the chaos of Elon’s electronic graveyard. Nothing will come about him using @TheJoker when he’s merely posting things like, “Just grew a new row of teeth!!! very pointy but can’t go to the dentist anymore bc they might turn me in to the giw.”

So Danny honestly never foresaw The Actual Real Joker breaking out of Arkham Asylum all the way in Gotham City, New Jersey, and deciding to get a Twitter account to terrorize people online as well as offline. And he definitely never foresaw The Joker @’ing him on Twitter, demanding that Danny change his Twitter handle. But, well. Here he was. 

[Image Description: A screenshot of a Twitter reply chain, starting with the real Joker @'ing Danny's Twitter account, which uses TheJoker as his Twitter handle. The Joker, who has a verified account, demands that Danny "change your handle", and Danny replies with a simple "no" followed by red heart emoji. The Joker Tweets, "Kid you don't know who you're fucking with," to which Danny replies, "Ye I do ur some dude w/ poor fashion sense and lame jokes. Maybe try badjokesbyjeff bc originality is ugly on u" followed by a shrugging emoticon. The Joker responds, "Check your DMs." Danny then responds, "Perf [happy emoji surrounded by hearts] I've sent you a time and place. Can't wait to beat the shit out of another disgrace of a clown." Someone with the username "Gregg rulz ok" responds to Danny's last Tweet, "Bro is absolutely RATIOING the joker but the clown keeps responding [three skull emojis] embarrassing frfr too bad he's gonna die for realsies".

End ID]

Danny is quick to respond and then makes even quicker work of roasting The Joker. This soon results in The Joker DMing him his IP Address and a creative threat. Still, Danny isn’t about to cow to a clown with no respect for the art of clowning. He replies to the DM: 

Cool, meet me at the Nasty Burger parking lot in Amity Park IL on tuesday at 2am

The response from The Joker is quick:

Fourteen year olds are too confident these days

Danny rolls his eyes and ignores the influx of notifications from Twitter, and instead makes another Tweet.

Imagine beefing with someone over a Twitter handle lol acc so embarrassing for him

He blackens his screen and stretches in bed, letting his spine pop more than what is humanly possible. He runs his tongue over that second row of teeth, his lips curling into a grin. 

xxXxx

Gothamite Twitter is blowing up over The Joker’s social media beef with a faceless shitposting account. Jason, upon finding out about it, has a series of reactions: first, he looks up the shitposter and follows them. Then, he finds the actual chain between the poster and The Joker, and his vision goes vibrant green when he sees that The Joker’s profile picture is of the second Robin, beaten and swollen in an abandoned building in Ethiopia. 

When his vision clears and he can breathe without wanting to kill, he likes the shitposter’s replies, and he calls the Replacement to see if the other Bats know already.

“We know,” Tim says in lieu of a hello when the ringing cuts out. “We’re working on it.”

“What, you think anything’s gonna come of it?” But even as Jason asks, he already knows the answer. The Joker is unhinged and once he’s threatened something, he’ll follow up unless he comes up with a “funnier” option. 

Tim’s breath hitches, and he says, “I’ve hacked their DMs. Joker knows the kid’s IP address and sent it to him. He knows everything from that address alone.”

He pauses in the middle of suiting up, “Kid?”

He hears Tim swallow, “Yes, kid. He’s fifteen. And he gave The Joker a specific time and place to meet up to fight. In his own hometown.”

“Are— are you fucking kidding me?” 

“No. B is already calling Nightwing. We’re taking the Batwing to Illinois.”

“Jesus fuck. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Hood, I—”

“Shut up, I’m already in my gear.” He hangs up without waiting for a response. 

He refreshes the Twitter feed and barks a laugh at the newest Tweet:

Jason Todd votes, and the Red Hood leaves his safe house. 

xxXxx

A commercial flight to Illinois takes around two and a half hours. In the Batwing, they get there in an hour, and don’t even have to worry about the drive from Chicago to a small speck of a town like Amity Park. They spend the quick flight learning everything they can about Daniel James Fenton, the owner of the Twitter account, and they can all sense the growing tension from (and between) Bruce and Jason.

But, well. Jason doesn’t care. Let them be uncomfortable. It doesn’t compare to being ripped back into life and finding out his dad didn’t even get justice for his death. 

When they reach town, it doesn’t take long to find the Fentons’ home. This is in part because Amity Park is a very navigable town, and because of the giant neon sign proclaiming FentonWorks on the side of the building. 

“Is that a blimp?” Dick asks. “Why don’t we have a blimp?” 

“Where would we keep it?” the Demon Brat counters practically. “Goliath takes up all of the Cave’s extra space.” 

Jason rolls his eyes and knows veins would be popping out of Bruce’s forehead if it weren’t for the cowl. 

“Let’s go,” Bruce says instead, and they all make their way to the house. 

Nightwing, predictably, goes for the front door approach. Jason rolls his eyes as he takes one of the second-story windows and finds his way downstairs.

He gets down at the same time that a redheaded girl answers the door and nearly slams it in Dick’s face. Jason has to suppress snickers at the sight. 

“Wait, wait, wait, are you Jazz Fenton? We need to talk to your brother!” 

“...We?” she asks, then tenses and turns around to see the rest of the Bats in the hall behind her. Dick takes the opportunity to step in completely, closing the door behind him. “Wha— what’s going on?”

“Where are your parents, Jazz?” Bruce makes every question sound like a demand. Jason rolls his eyes from behind his mask—way to put the teenager at ease, B.

“Why do you need to know?” Her voice has a defensive edge to it. “What do you want with Danny?” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Nightwing comforts. “He didn’t do anything too bad, just said some dumb things online. It’s not his fault.” 

This relaxes her, and her shoulders begin un-hunching. “Oh, s-so what’d he do?”

“He foolishly challenged The Joker to a battle in a ‘Nasty Burger’ parking lot tonight.” 

“You could’ve had some more tact, Robin,” Nightwing scolds. But the Demon Spawn just crosses his arms. 

“He did what?” Jazz shrieks. “Like, The Joker from Gotham? That Joker?”

“Are there others?” Red Hood comments dryly. 

Her face goes through several different emotions—disbelief, rage, fear, and then rage again, “DANIEL JAMES FENTON! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!” 

There’s a thumping noise, and then frantic footsteps down the stairs. 

“Wha? Who died?” asks the figure of a tiny fifteen-year-old, smaller than even Jason had been when he was alone with The Joker. He’s tiny and lanky. Zero muscle definition. Eye bags to rival the Replacement’s. Something ripples in the Pit, deep and distinct, but he can’t name what causes it.

Oh, this kid is so dead. 

“Danny,” says Jazz calmly while Danny blinks uncomprehendingly at the heroes in their hallway. She is solemn when she says, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you now.” 

“What did I do?” 

She stares at him, “Why have you scheduled a fight with The Joker?” 

“Oh, that.” He rubs the back of his neck, “Is he taking that seriously?”

“Of course he is, Danny! It’s The Joker! That’s what he does! He can’t differentiate between a joke and reality! He would tear off his own face for the bit!” 

“Oof,” is all Danny can muster. He digs his phone out and starts typing before Jazz yanks it out his hand. 

“You’re fucking TWEETING about this?” Jazz asks incredulously, and Hood’s hackles rise. She even reads the Tweet aloud, “‘Just found out @TheJ0ker is being fr about fighting me. Sad but i can take a clown.’”

“I was gonna add ‘i’ve done it b4,’ but like the letter and the number four. But yeah.” 

“You’re grounded forever.” Danny opens his mouth to protest, but the look Jazz cuts at him is so scathing that he shuts his mouth. Hood is reluctantly impressed—she had what could be cultivated into a fantastic Batglare. She pockets the phone, “You’re never getting this phone back. Taunting The Joker to Amity? Have you any brain cells? What if he brings Joker gas with him, huh? Or any of his goons? What if he starts hurting other people? Have you thought any of this through?” 

Danny’s face goes from tired to chastised, his lips drawing into a frown, especially at the mention of other people. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think that he’d take it so seriously.”

“He sent you your IP Address.”

“I thought that was just a random string of numbers?”

“Oh my god,” Jazz despairs. “Oh my god. Grounded forever. See, I know you're lying to me. I know you're lying because Tucker, the nerdiest tech nerd to have ever been born, is your best friend.”

He rubs the back of his neck, “I tune him out?”

“You’re still lying to me?” Jazz scoffs and turns to Batman, “Do whatever you want with him. I’m not going to defend him from this.” 

“Hey!” complained her brother, but Batman just continued on, “Where are your parents?”

“They’re in Sweden for a science convention,” Jazz answers. “They left this morning.” 

Damn, Jason curses to himself. 

“Jazz, seriously. You’re not gonna let Batman kill me, right?” 

“Do you want to be cremated or buried, Danny?” Jazz asks blasély, and Danny gulps, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. 

“It’s my Twitter handle,” he mutters petulantly, and Jason can’t believe the gall of this kid. Or maybe stupidity. Audacity’s a good one, too. “If he wanted it, he should’ve gotten it first. And he gives clowns a bad name.” 

“Not the clown thing again.” Jazz digs her palms into her eyes, sighs, then turns to the heroes. “He has a whole clown thing ever since Circus Gothica came to town and robbed a bunch of jewelry stores.” 

Danny gestures wildly with his hands, as if demonizing clowns was the real problem and not the egomaniacal mass murderer who wanted to murder him for his Twitter handle, “Clowning is an art form, Jazz, and people like Freakshow and The Joker make a mockery of the very serious societal statements that clowns make!” 

All of the Bats very carefully Did Not look at Nightwing, who has made very similar rants on quiet patrols.

“You are never leaving this house again,” she says serenely. “And I’m unplugging the wifi router.”

“You would punish even yourself?”

“Oh, little brother. I would watch the world burn if it meant knocking sense into your thick skull.” 

“Okay, Christ,” Red Hood finally interrupted the siblings’ melodrama. An unyielding redheaded girl and a mouthy black-haired, blue-eyed boy? They’d fit in a little too well back at the Manor, so Jason needs to cut this shit out before Bruce’s bat-doption instincts start tingling. “Stop. Just… Christ. Stop. Is this how you always interact with each other?”

“Sometimes there’s explosions,” Danny pipes up, a cheeky grin on his face. 

Jazz doesn’t dispute it. 

Fucking hell. God damn it. I can’t. I just can’t. 

Batman doesn’t give anything away, “Robin and Red Robin will be staying here with you until Nightwing, Hood, and I apprehend The Joker. First, we’re going to check the perimeter.” 

“Oooh, I get to give the lab tour!” 

Lab?

“No lab. You’re grounded. You’ll only be in there for cleaning duty now.”

“Wh– hey! No fair!” 

“What’s this lab you two are talking about?” Red Robin asks before Jazz can rip into her brother again. 

She sighs, “Our parents’ lab. I’ll show you, but someone needs to stay with Danny.” 

“You act like I’m gonna run off and start World War III….”

“I wonder why,” she says sarcastically.

Batman nods to Robin, who nods back, and the rest of them follow Jazz out of the living room to a metal reinforced door. She types in a code—Jason catches the numbers 03-14-99. There’s an assenting beep, and she opens the door, flicking on the lights and leading them down into what is apparently a basement lab. 

A stone settles in Red Hood’s stomach, cold and heavy. 

The basement is large, likely the floor size of the entire building. There are several work tables, filled with miscellaneous blueprints and spare parts and weapons and tools. Against the farthest wall is another armored door, but what draws Hood’s—and the entire Batclan’s—attention is the south wall, where a circular hole in the wall was glowing a toxic Pit green. 

The stone shattered in his stomach, splintering into his body. Is it harder or easier to breathe? Jason can’t tell. 

“Wow,” says Nightwing. His voice is cheerful, but Jason can feel the stress beneath it. “Do I even want to know?” 

Wasn’t this supposed to just be typical Joker bullshit?

“Our parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz explains nonchalantly, walking further into the lab. “As in, ghost biologists.” She pauses at one of the work tables, picking up a green and white thermos. Pretty boring, considering the rest of their surroundings. 

“Ghosts.” Red Robin’s voice is carefully neutral. 

“Ghosts,” Jazz reaffirms. “I know. I thought they were crazy at first, too. But I can prove it, if you like.” Then, without waiting for a yes or no, she untwists the thermos, and there’s a bright flash of white, and a whole entire body sprouting out of it. 

“WHOO! I’M FREE!” cries the…being, pale and floating and lanky and entirely too big to have fit into a fucking thermos, of all the fucking things. “....And not in the Realms? Wait.” He stops stretching, descending to rest closer to the ground, but still hovering a few inches from the floor. He’s got green eyes and lifeless (ha) blond hair. He’s wearing a trenchcoat and a green skull necklace. Overall, he looks like the type of thug he’d arrest in the Bowery. 

“Hello, Johnny.” The man’s—ghost’s?—eyes flicker around each person in the room, his gaze becoming more and more confused and panicked as he takes in each Bat, before settling on Jazz Fenton. 

“Why are the fucking Bats here?” 

“The Joker’s coming to Amity,” she says. The ghost’s eyes widen. Jazz tilts her head, “How many ghosts would you say passed away in Gotham, Johnny?” 

As Jason and the Bats tense, this Johnny guy lets out a wicked laugh, “Oh, Doll, you have the best surprises. Why did we break up?” 

“You did try to have my body possessed. That ruins any good relationship.” 

“Man, but Kitty’ll love this. Thanks for letting me out of Soup Time, Doll.” He floats higher, “Any advice?” 

She throws him the phone she’d confiscated from Danny and he catches it easily, “Everything’s on here. Have fun.”

“What exactly are you planning?” Batman scowls. 

Johnny laughs, “Aww, don’t worry, Bats. Peace and love on Planet Earth, or whatever. We’ll make it quick.” Then, as the Bats leap into action as one, Johnny turns invisible, the Batarangs passing harmlessly through where he’d once been floating. 

“Where did he go?” Batman turns his scowl, angrier than ever, to Jazmin Fenton, who stares back unflinchingly. “He’s going to solve the problem.”

“You mean he’s going to kill The Joker.”

She shakes her head, “Oh, no. That’d just be asking for him to come back as a ghost. Could you imagine a Joker with powers like invisibility, intangibility, flight, and more? Johnny can be impulsive, but he’s smart. None of them will kill The Joker.” 

“Then what are they going to do?” Red Robin asks. 

“My parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz repeats from earlier. “But I am more of an anthro-ectopologist. I am concerned with the study of ectoplasmic beings’ societies and cultures. And while it is very ancient, there is protocol in the Infinite Realms—that is, where you go when you die, should you remain after death—to prosecute living criminals who have killed a certain number of Realms citizens. So you don’t have to worry about your moral code, Batman. The Joker will be tried by a much fairer court than Gotham can ever hope to have. No offense.” 

Jason stares at Jazz Fenton, who he’d pegged as the sane sibling. He’s not so sure now, but he can’t say he hates it.

“And how do we know it’s a fair trial?” Nightwing asks. 

She waves her hand, “Oh, as Gotham’s Knights, you’re key witnesses. I’m sure you’ll be summoned to testify. You will see then. And don’t worry about your secret identities—the dead don’t care much for that sort of thing.” 

“So if this is a ‘fair’ trial or whatever, The Joker’s going to be locked up forever?” Jason asks. “I mean, that’s the only option for shit like him.” 

Batman sends him a look, but he ignores it. 

“Well, there are several different punishments that could be deemed appropriate, but he’ll never be able to set foot in the mortal world again, yes.” 

Jason Todd grins, “Oh, I’m glad your brother’s stupid, kid.” 

She sighs, long-suffering, “Well, that makes one of us. Still, there’s more important things we should discuss now that you’re here.”

“More important than The Joker trying to kill your brother over a Twitter handle?” Red Robin asks doubtfully. 

Jazz smiles, sharp and dangerous, and asks, ”Have you ever heard of the Anti-Ecto Acts?” 

xxXxx

Several months later when Danny is finally un-grounded, he Tweets his last three Tweets before Twitter can become the foolishly named X: 

Imagine bullying the Joker so hard that it not only lands the Joker in ghost prison BUT it also leads to major law reform in the US lmao someone make the domino effect meme about this pls

Y’allre replying to me with thanks like i did anything other than be an internet troll. My sister literally manipulated local, federal, and interdimensional law so you should be thanking her. 

i just a babie 🥺🥺🥺

xxXxx

Thanks for reading! This is the whole fic, so pls do not ask for tags! Thank you :)

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #danny phantom #danny fenton #jazz fenton #jason todd #batman #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #the joker #johnny 13 #severely ooc

[minarisplaything]

High Rise ft. IVE Wonyoung

Pairing: IVE Wonyoung x Male Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2.4k Tags: Daddy kink, Exhibitionism, Choking A/N: i said i would didn't i? probably the fastest i've made a fic recently which also means please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes you find. might not be my best work but it sure was fun to write o7 Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction/parody

Dating a k-pop idol wasn’t easy. Especially when you were a so-called commoner. There were the obvious reasons, like you had to keep your relationship a secret until they reached their thirties, if you made it that long.And the not-so-obvious reasons; like watching your girlfriend parade around in sexy stage outfits and having to contain your desire to fuck her in them.

Or maybe that was just you.

When your girlfriend was Jang Wonyoung, a hyper-popular It girl – you cringed at even thinking those words aloud – the restrictions were even worse. Like that one time you had wanted to bring her flowers at her group's concert in Seoul and had to be snuck backstage with a bag over your head. Or the time someone had caught the two of you flirting candidly and Wonyoung blurted out that you were her cousin to save face. Embarrassing but somehow also cute when it came from her.

All this was to say it wasn’t easy.

But it certainly wasn’t without its benefits.

“Fuck, that one looks so good, princess,” you praised.

You snapped another photo as Wonyoung posed, biting her bottom lips and giving the camera a smoldering look. She hooked her fingers into her hip-hugging jeans, tugging them slightly as you quickly snapped another series of photos.

Honestly, you were somewhat shocked when Wonyoung told you her idea. It had felt provocative, mature even, and thus far each photo had proved that assumption right. But you rarely, if ever said no to her, even if her motivations were somewhat questionable. In fact, you wondered if this was all your fault.

“You left a like on Yuna-nim’s photo,” Wonyoung had said at the time. Her tone carried an accusatory hint.

“Did I?” you had stammered, trying to play naive. “I was just scrolling my feed and must’ve double tapped.”

“So you follow them?”

“Them?”

“Other girl groups,” Wonyoung clarified.

One thing you had learned about the IVE princess was that while she was sweet as a button on most days, she carried a jealous streak that verged on volatile. Sharing was not in her programming, least of all when it came to you.

You had recognized the trap forming but it had been too late. “Well, I mean, just to keep up. You know you do challenges sometimes and appear on their feeds.”

Her arms crossed over her chest, hip cocked to the side and slight pout was all the answer you needed.

That week you had gone without any physical contact from your girlfriend. Though she made sure to send you the filthiest selfies possible throughout. Which, oddly, worked. Because no matter how much you touched yourself to the photos she sent, it didn’t compare to the real thing.

It had seemed like the incident was over and in the past but as you snapped a few more photos of Wonyoung by the windowsill, you briefly wondered if this stemmed from it as well.

“Are you sure you’re going to post these on Instagram?” you asked, after a particularly racy photo.

“Mhm,” Wonyoung nodded. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. Remember the bathroom?”

“Oh, I remember.”

You also remembered the ones that hadn’t made it to social media and were sent directly to you. But this still felt even more daring than this.

“How many likes do you think this will get?” she asked, coolly, giving the camera a sultry look. An innocent question. At least on the surface. But you remembered her comment one night as you two relaxed together.

“Besides, it’s to promote the sponsor, that’s all. This will get the most engagements,” she added. Her gaze dropped and a small smirk formed on her lips, “In fact, I’d say it’s already working.”

You followed her gaze, looking down to see a rather obvious tent had formed in your sweatpants. You laughed, a flush coloring your cheeks. “Well, shit. Can you blame me?”

“I guess I can’t,” Wonyoung said coolly.

The way she unbuttoned the top button of her jeans, spoke to more mischief however.

“Wony,” you wet your dry lips, “Are we still doing the shoot?”

“Mhm “ she nodded cutely, “Of course.”

She did another pose, pushing the waist of the jeans down to expose the lace underwear she had on underneath.

“You know, I love it up here. It’s perfect,” Wonyoung said. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yeah…” you muttered, more focused on the sight of her exposed abs and smooth skin than her question.

By here she was referring to the penthouse you were using for the photoshoot. Funny enough, she could easily afford a place like this on her own. Though that would only spur on more talk about inequality among the rookie group.

“Being so high up…” she turned her head to look out the window. Your breath caught as you watched delicate fingers slip inside of her jeans. “We can see everything but no one can see us. Even if we were naked against this window they’d never know…”

Now you weren’t the smartest bulb in the room. In fact, sometimes you wondered if it was your self-proclaimed himbo status that Wonyoung liked most about you. But even you could put two and two together. And Wonyoung’s words combined with the side-eyed glance she was giving you were all screaming one thing.

“I could show my naked body to all of Seoul and no one. would. know.”

Her tongue pronounced every syllable while she locked eyes with you. As sweet and kind as Wonyoung could be she had an undeniable minx side to her. You were also fairly certain your girlfriend got off on the power high of being such a desired person but you had never actually confirmed that.

If you were starting to get hard when she pointed it out earlier, you were practically aching now. You tossed your phone onto the couch and made your way over to where Wonyoung was by the window. She let out a delighted squeal as you pushed her up against the glass, kissing her passionately.

Your hands moved against her stomach, feeling her toned abs that were shown off by the outfit she was wearing. Honestly, you should send a bouquet to whatever designer sent this to her to promote. You nipped at Wonyoung's bottom lip, your hands sliding into her unbuttoned pants to squeeze her ass.

"It took you long enough," Wonyoung gasped, mischief gleaming in her eyes. "I thought was going to have to beg you to fuck me."

Your cock twitched, straining painfully against your jeans, "You still could you know."

She must have been in a good mood because the idol looked at you with large eyes, biting on her bottom lip. "Please fuck me against the window, daddy."

Oh.

You see, it had taken some time but you learned that your girlfriend had two modes. The arrogant queen who knew all of Seoul was her playground and made you worship at her feet. Then there was the submissive princess who begged to be pleased until she was satisfied. Often her mood was some mixture of the two but neither one left you unsatisfied.

"If that's what the Princess wants," you growled.

A delighted smile crossed the idol's features followed by another joyful squeal when you spun her around to face the window. Her hands rose, catching herself as she turned her head to look over her shoulder. You could see the aroused flush creeping up her neck and coloring her round cheeks.

"Didn't you say something about showing everyone your tits?" you whispered in her ear.

Not waiting for a response, you pulled her top down, exposing her tits to the cool glass of the window earning a gasp from Wonyoung in response. You pressed further against her, the bulge in your pants pushing against her ass.

"This whole shoot was just to rile me up, wasn't it?" you said, your breath hot against the shell of her ear. Your hands moved quickly to yank the jean pants she was wearing, exposing the white lace panties that she had teased you with a peek of earlier.

"Maybe," Wonyoung mewled, arching her back perfectly.

Your hands hooked into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down to reveal her bare ass to your hungry gaze, "Bullshit. You knew what you were doing."

"Maybe I just wanted to remind you of what's right in front of you," she said.

There it was. That switch up she was capable of. It also confirmed your theory that your girlfriend hadn't exactly forgiven and forgotten about the Instagram incident. Well, there was no time better than now to put the matter to bed. You gripped your cock, slipping it between her legs to get it slick from her dripping sex.

"Oh, I'm well aware of what's in front of me," you started. Slowly you began to slip your thick cock inside of her, inch by inch with each syllable. "The most beautiful." More. "Talented." More. "Gorgeous." More. "Perfect." More. "Princess."

"Fuck!" Wonyoung moaned, her forehead bracing against the window.

"Is the princess feeling full?"

"So, so full…" she cooed.

"And I didn't even get to mention how good a girlfriend you are," you teased.

You could feel her pussy quivering around your length, stretching to accommodate the familiar intrusion of your cock. Wonyoung's hands were splayed against the windows of the high-rise, her ass pushed out and into you. She was on full display and only you were lucky enough to see it.

You could take it slow with steady, languid strokes, gently fucking your girlfriend against the window. But something told you that wasn't what she nor you wanted at that moment. Your fingers flexed around her waist, pulling out your cock until just the tip remained inside of her before thrusting your entire length back inside of her. Wonyoung's body jolted with pleasure as she braced her nude body against the window.

"This is what you wanted isn't it?" Harder. "To know how much you turn me on." Faster. "To see how fucking hard you get me." Deeper. "No one else makes me like this." Repeat.

A mixture of mewls and moans fell from the idol's mouth at your relentless rhythm. Her head fell forward, her cheek pressed up against the glass. Perspiration was starting to form across her flawless skin and you had to resist the urge to lean forward and lick it up. You wanted to prove a point, to fuck Wonyoung to the point of exhaustion for the whole city to see. After that maybe you'd enjoy the little perversions.

"You probably say that to every - fuck - every girl," Wonyoung panted, glancing at you from over her shoulder. "You're probably just waiting to move onto the next idol you're drooling over."

She didn't say it with enough conviction for you to believe she truly felt that way. For starters, while Wonyoung may get jealous, she was not insecure. At least, not enough to ever think another idol was above her. It was more often a toxic possessive kind of jealousy. But nonetheless, in the heat of the moment you'd take the bait.

"Is that what you think?" he said, your breathing growing heavy with your harsh thrust. Conversation wasn't exactly easy at this pace. "Did you miss what I said earlier, huh?"

One hand moved from her waist to slip around Wonyoung's throat. She inhaled sharply, her breath catching in her throat as you squeezed. For a passing second there was no sound save for the repeated slaps of skin against skin as your hips were flush against Wonyoung's ass each time you entered her.

"I only want you," you finally gasp. "Always you."

Rather than another vulgar display to go along with your words, you merely lean over her, capturing her lips in a sideways kiss. It's messy and imperfect but it's also loving and passionate. Your tongues dance together all while your bodies remain intertwined. You can feel Wonyoung pussy quivering around your cock intensely as she moans into your mouth. When you pull back, you look at your girlfriend with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you just cum from that?" you asked.

"S-shut up," Wonyoung retorted. You noticed a bright red hue of embarrassment coloring her cheeks before she hid her face, "Don't stop until you finish inside of me,"

It was always adorable when she continued trying to be dominant after her own orgasm. However, her words had an undeniable effect on you. "If that's what the princess wants."

You returned to the task at hand, focusing your efforts solely on chasing your first release and Wonyoung's second orgasm.

"Daddy," Wonyoung mewled, finding her voice. "I want you to cum, daddy. I want you to cum deep inside my tight pussy.""

You had a sinking suspicion that her words were payback for causing her embarrassing moments earlier. Her attempt at provoking you to blow your load sooner than you had intended to.

Regardless it worked to immediate effect. Your hips jerked, slamming against hers from behind. Your sweat-drenched body pressed flush against Wonyoung, pushing her up against the high-rise window. Your cock twitched, ropes of your sticky seed shooting inside of her womb as her walls convulsed around your length.

Of course the two things that pushed her over the edge would be you saying how you loved her and her revelling the power she had to make you cum on the spot. Truly a representative of her duality.

After a moment had passed and you began to regain your bearings you pressed a kiss to Wonyoung's shoulder.

"That was incredible, Wony," you muttered.

"I know," she said, her form practically radiating. "You weren't bad either."

You let out a chuckle, placing another lazy kiss to her skin, "Maybe we should've included that in the photoshoot."

Wonyoung smiled but didn't immediately respond. After a moment of delay she turned in your arms to look at you.

"Did you mean all those things you said?" she asked.

Her wide eyes looked at you and you reached up to brush aside a strand of sweat soaked hair. There was no hesitation in your response when you answered her.

"Absolutely. And don't you think otherwise for a second."

A smile beamed across the idol's face and she leaned forward, burying her face into your neck. Your arms wrapped around her and quietly you wondered if you weren't the luckiest man in the world.

BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.

#wonyoung smut #ive smut #girl group smut #ive imagines #wonyoung imagines #ive x reader #male reader #wonyoung x male reader

[kyber-crystal]

i will follow you into the dark || bradley "rooster" bradshaw

summary: your first instinct has always been to push people away when they get too close, but for some reason, you have trouble letting one pilot go. but little did you know that he had settled into your heart from the start and has no intention of leaving. (in which you have Bradley Bradshaw wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even notice—5 occasions that solidify your love for him, and 1 time you realize it)

words: ~3.3k

warnings: angst (BUT A HAPPY ENDING, I PROMISE), near-death experiences, brief mentions of violence, also my writing LMAO

a/n: hi guys i haven't posted a full-length fic in a LONG time but here we go :) this fic won the vote so it's going up first! hope you enjoy :)

I. meet me in the middle

“Mav!”

You and Maverick turned around at the same time. “Which one?”

“The pretty one,” Rooster stated. 

“Be more specific.”

“I am being specific, Captain.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“Fine, I need your daughter.”

“You always need her for something.”

“Sorry, pops,” you grinned and clasped Maverick’s shoulder, and walked over to Bradley. “Come to kidnap me again, Bradshaw?”

“Actually, I’m hungry.”

“Then…go eat? I don’t see what any of that has to do with me.”

“I’m going to dinner, and I want you to come along,” he explained. “So, let’s go.”

“Is that why Cyclone was grumbling about someone spilling coffee all over him earlier? I knew it had to be you that put him in that mood.”

“Doesn’t matter. Come on.”

You looked back at your father, who simply laughed and motioned for you to go. The test flight would have to wait. 

It was 5:30 when you got there, but the usually-crowded cantina had only one other person inside. Rooster didn’t hesitate as he set down his car keys and slid into the booth right next to you.

“There’s a seat right there,” you pointed out. 

“And?”

“You can sit over there.”

“I don’t want to, though.”

“Alright, then.” 

You weren’t even done for the day and already, felt tired and worn out beyond belief. The one thing that had been keeping you going was Maverick’s promise to take you on a Mach 7 test flight. (With the Admiral’s permission, of course. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he had never asked.)

Rooster tells the waitress your order without blinking, and you give him a tired smile as a thank you. 

There’s no animated conversation, no loud comments or jokes or anything of the sort as the food comes out, but neither of you mind. Sometimes, all you needed to cool down from a long week was each other’s company and a steaming plate of fajitas. 

The little routine you’ve established falls into place so easily you don’t even have to think. Impromptu dinners, blasting 80’s music as the sun goes down, taking the offbeat path down to the coast with salt in your windswept hair.  Little to no words spoken, and somehow the silence speaks volumes.

But you don’t understand why he’d choose you to do this with, out of everyone. You’d expect him to drift towards someone less damaged. Someone who could keep up to his free and daring spirit and push him to his limits. Someone who had less baggage and didn’t flinch at every little touch. 

But despite all that he doesn’t leave. Even when everyone else around you seemed to, he was always there, assuring you he’d wait no matter what.

“Don’t worry about it.” He places a gentle hand over yours as he hands his card over to pay later that evening. “Let me treat you tonight.”

“Thanks…” 

He holds the door open for you as you walk out and keeps a ghost of a hand against your back the whole way to the car. You’re trying to burrow into yourself, but he doesn’t stop looking at you. The feeling of his eyes on you sends shivers running down your spine and you nervously shift in your seat. 

“You okay?” Rooster places his hand on the headrest as he reverses out of the parking lot. “You seem quiet tonight.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t press any further, assuming that you’re tired and that’s why you’re unwilling to say much. He knows. He understands. “If you ever need to talk, though, I’m one call and a 15 minute walk away. Or 7, if I sprint.”

This makes you laugh a bit. “If you say so.”

II. waiting on you

As soon as you hop out of your plane, he’s the first one there to greet you and pulls you in for a hug. You have no time to react to it because he’s so quick to sweep you up into his arms. You can smell a mix of sweat and coffee and a little bit of raspberries on him, and it helps bring you back down to reality. 

“You saw me a few hours ago, Roos…please let me go…” you mumbled into his shoulder. His grip on you only tightens further. “What’s with the excitement?”

“Nothing. I’m just happy to see you.”

Not knowing what else to do, your hands awkwardly reach up to pat him on the back. “It’s good to see you, too.”

Though you don’t say it out loud, you’re also just as happy to see him—it’s comforting to know he’ll be waiting whenever you return from something. And that, you think, is more than enough. 

Rooster carries your things for you without asking, and you’re grateful because your shoulders feel like they’re going to fall out of their sockets. Once again, he’s standing close by as you go to your quarters, ever the watchman. If he doesn’t have a hand on you, then his eyes will stay glued to you for as long as they can be. 

“Is that my shirt?” he asks as you step out of the bathroom wearing an oversized vintage T-shirt and a pair of jeans. 

“No.”

“It looks better on you, anyway.” He smirks; you fail to notice the way his gaze lingers on you a bit longer than normal. “You ready to go? They’re waiting for us at the Hard Deck. Hangman’s complaining about a rematch or somethin’.”

You lean into his side and smile, and he puts an arm across your shoulders. It feels so natural that you almost don’t notice. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

His eyes never leave you, even when he’s in the thick of the game. It’s impossible to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach every time his gaze flickers over to yours. 

Coyote notices your dazed look and nudges Payback in the side. “How is it that everyone knows that Bradshaw and Y/N love each other except Bradshaw and Y/N?”

“Because they’re stupid,” Payback whispered back.

“Ah. Makes sense.”

“So, we need to do something about it.”

“Hm…I’d say we wait it out. They’re going in the right direction.” A small smile graced Coyote’s face as Rooster pumped a fist up in victory before rushing over to embrace you. “A room full of people, yet all he sees is her.”

“You’re so right, man.”

III. rose-tinted glasses

“What are you looking for out there?” Rooster called out.

“Something pretty,” you replied as you stood by the ocean’s edge, the wind fanning your hair around your shoulders. He’s sure that he’s never seen a more mesmerizing sight. 

“I beat you to it, because I already found one,” he stated with confidence, eyes never leaving you.

“Where?”

“I’m looking right at her.”

“That’s not what I meant, silly. Do I look like a seashell to you?”

“No, you’re even better.”

You laugh once again and resume your search. Right then, a glowing scallop catches your eye, and sand dusts your clothes as you bend down to pick it up. It’s smooth and seems to glow in rose gold amidst the early evening light. 

“Would you look at that,” you breathed out, palm extended to show him what you’ve found. “It’s perfect.”

Rooster encloses his hand around yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s cold out but you’re not freezing at all because he’s so close. He’s so close. Your heart skips a beat. 

“Wow…it sure is.”

He kneels down with you, and you spend the next few hours making it a competition to see who can find the most unique set of stones. A strange feeling washed over you as you watched his brows furrow in concentration. Never had you imagined to be spending Thursday night with Bradley Bradshaw by the seashore, and yet, it feels like you’ve done this thousands of times before. 

Everything seems to fall into place. 

IV. for you, i’d cross the line 

“Y/N, hey.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Doesn’t matter. Move over.”

You shifted on the bench to make room for him and he sat down next to you. This was probably his tenth time playing his rendition of ‘Great Balls of Fire’ but that didn’t matter; the man knew how to sing. You found yourself leaning into him and listening to his heartbeat, and the sensation lulled you into a peaceful trance. 

You took one good look at your best friend. Sweat lined his forehead and his face was bright red from both the alcohol and heat, but still, you were 100% sure that you’d never seen a more beautiful sight in your life. 

The way he seemed to gaze at you made your heartbeat pick up speed. It didn’t matter that he had too one too many drinks in the moments leading up to this, nor did it matter that he was always one to be rather affectionate with you. It didn’t make you love him any less—if anything, it made him all the more endearing. 

“You’re looking at me very…intensely,” you mumbled. “It’s making me nervous.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “A man can’t help it when he’s in love.”

“Was that tipsy you or sober you?”

“Sober me is saying I love you.” He continues playing, unfazed, and the sound of the piano in your ears fades away into nothingness. 

It’s drunk Rooster telling you he means what he says, the confidence boost making him do things he normally wouldn’t. It’s drunk Rooster attempting to serenade you as his warm, alcohol-riddled breath falls against your neck. It’s drunk Rooster talking…but there’s a sober truth hidden behind his words that sends a shiver down your spine. 

You’re nose-to-nose as he starts to sing, and you lose yourself in a sea of gold and blue as his warm thumb grazes over your cheek. As if there’s an invisible string drawing you together, you move closer and closer towards each other. Drunk or not, he was utterly enchanting and you couldn’t turn away.

Once again…you ignore the stirring feeling in your chest at the feeling of his body being so close to yours. 

V. saving grace

You find yourself opening the door to Rooster, who has a bouquet of your favorite flowers and some large Tupperware in hand. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you accept them and step aside to let him in. “What is this for…?”

“Thought you’d want something nice to add to the kitchen. You and Mav need to work on decorations,” he said. “Why? Do you not like them?”

“No…I’m…how’d you know these were my favorite, anyway?”

“I heard you talking on the phone to Phoenix about them six months ago,” Rooster explained, taking his jacket off and hanging it over the couch. “I pride myself on being observant like that. Also…I woke up early to cook you that pasta you always go nuts over when we drive to LA.”

“Oh.” Your heart twinged as you glanced over—that damn pasta was your favorite thing on the entire planet. You claimed that nobody could make it as well as the diner in Newport did, except Bradley himself. (He didn’t tell you how many times it took to get it just right, though. He didn’t want you freaking out over that. And besides, Maverick’s pots and pans that he borrowed had already paid the price.)

He paused for a moment after setting the container down on the counter. “I noticed you went home early today. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” you lied as you put the flowers in a vase. But that was no use; he could see right through your monotone response. “Didn’t sleep enough last night.”

Bradley sees your hands tremble slightly. “Sweetheart.”

That’s all he needs to say before you step forward and lean your head against his chest. One arm finds its way around your waist to pull you close, while his free hand smoothes your hair out. A cracked sob escapes your lips and you squeeze your eyes shut in the hopes that if you kept them closed long enough and prayed hard enough, a guardian angel would swoop in and save you. 

“I’m here, it’s okay, you’ll be okay,” he murmurs. “You’ll be okay.”

“Please don’t go, Bradshaw,” you begged, voice hoarse. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m right here, don’t worry,” he reminds you, his hand moving down to rub your back. “I’ll be here whenever you need me, I promise.” 

You reach your pinky out a bit, and the two of you link your fingers together. 

You’re never letting go, and neither is he. 

epilogue—soul ties 

“I’m trying to shake them off. They won’t let up—shit, I’m hit—”

His panicked voice cuts through the buzz of static and you can feel your whole body go numb. What if he doesn’t make it back… The thought alone is too much to bear. 

He curses under his breath and you hear something like that of a whispered prayer and several mentions of Please let me come home to her. Your heart clenches in your chest and you feel like you’re going to puke. Noticing your sudden uneasiness, Maverick grips your hand to keep you steady. 

“Bradshaw, what the hell is going on there?” Coyote nervously rubs at his forehead as he looks up at the screen. “If you die, we’re all going to kill you.”

“Left engine’s completely blown out. I have two bogeys on my tail.”

You bite the inside of your cheek until the tangy, metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. This couldn’t be happening. There already was a ghost amongst the skies, and Rooster could not afford to become the second…

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, I’m going down, guys—” Rooster curses again, and the earsplitting sound of a large blast interrupts him before he can say much else. 

“Bradley!” you shrieked as you watched his radar signal slowly fade off the screen. “No—”

Silence punctures the air and you finally lose balance, succumbing to the black void of nothingness. 

—

10 hours later, you sit outside the hospital room in the cold hallway, a thin, tear-stained blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Hangman and Phoenix had long since given up on getting you to move, so they took turns sitting with you. 

“You should try eating. There’s In-N-Out nearby, I’ll get something for you if you want,” Jake offered. 

You shake your head. 

“Come on. It’s been all day.”

“No.”

“You’re really that worried about him, aren’t you.”

“No,” you muttered bitterly. 

“You claim to not care, yet you’ve been sitting here for the past ten hours.” 

“I don’t care. This is me looking out for him in the same way any colleague or teammate of his would. This is what I’m supposed to do. What we’re all supposed to do.” 

“Y/N.” Jake sounds a bit more serious this time, and this makes you stop trying to bury yourself within your thoughts. “Listen to me.”

“What,” you exhaled.

"The fact of the matter here is,” he cleared this throat, “Bradshaw cares about you…a lot. Not in a simple and innocent ‘friendly’ way. And if you keep pushing him away like you always do, all 'cause you're scared, you're gonna lose him for good. Losing a good man out of fear is never worth the cost."

Your heart stops.

Every hug, every word and cheesy pickup line, every lingering glance and touch and intertwined set of fingers—he'd fallen first long ago, and pulled you down with him. But you let him, and you'll walk to the ends of the earth if it means he'll hold your hand along the way. And that's when everything hits all at once—the realization comes crashing down like a waterfall. 

You were hopelessly in love with him, the man who brings you flowers every Friday night. In love with the man who holds the door open for you, gives you his favorite jackets, and stays up late or wakes up early to learn your favorite comfort meal (even if it means failing 17 times in the process and ruining Maverick's kitchen), the man who serenades you to classic rock ballads with the taste of rum on his lips. 

This was Rooster Bradshaw, and he was your soulmate.

“But I already lost him,” your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words to say, “I can’t.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. That man is going to stay waiting for you until the day his body is buried six feet underground. Deny it all you want, but he’ll keep waiting long after he takes his last breath.”

You let out a long sigh and stood up. “Okay.”

You’re hesitant as you step inside the small hospital room. He’s asleep, but he must’ve sensed your presence and his eyes flutter open. 

“Sweetheart…”

“Bradley.” He moves over a bit for you, and you sit down next to him. “You’re alive.”

“Sorry for not dying. That must’ve disappointed you,” he jokes. If he’s in any sort of pain, he manages to mask it behind a soft smile. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“I waited ten hours.”

“You should’ve gone home and slept.”

Closing your eyes, you rest your head against his chest. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that you weren’t okay.”

He hums some tune against the crook of your neck; lips brushing over your skin. “But I came back, like I promised. I’m okay, because you are.”

Helovesmehelovesmehelovesme.

As if he could read your mind, he leans in just that bit closer. You look up at him and your heart somersaults in your chest. 

When your lips meet, everything clicks into place and it’s like you finally found the missing puzzle piece you’d been searching for. He was here all along; it made so much sense. Everything else fades away into the background as you get lost in the feeling of him and him alone. You knew from the moment he stuck out his hand and told you with a million-dollar smile “I’m Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, and I can make a mean lasagna or anything else you want,” that choosing him would be the single best thing you ever could’ve done. 

And you were most certainly right about that now. 

“I kept it, you know.” he murmurs as you eventually break away, “I didn’t think it would last as long as it did, but here it is.”

“What…what are you talking about?”

He fingers dip below the scoop of his T-shirt and he brings out the glittering charm, laying it in his hand. “You gave it to me ages ago. It was a while ago but I still remember the exact time and place. August 5th, 2010, 2:26 a.m. We were both on the verge of falling asleep.”

Your heart grows warmer. “Roos…”

Rooster opens the locket, and inside is a picture of you beaming as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. So young and so in love, but not yet knowing how you felt about each other. 

“I think this is what kept me alive up there. I was in the air long enough to think about and reflect on the fact that I was dying, but I knew I had to come home to you. I was dying, Y/N, but you saved me. If you didn’t come into my life right when you did then I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be telling you that I love you.”

He has you at a loss for words yet again. It didn’t matter that you’d known each other for years because he would always find a way to steal your breath. The once-tiny caterpillars crawling in your stomach had morphed into giant butterflies that never stopped fluttering when he came too close.

He leans in and he’s kissing you again; this time it’s like you’re his sole source of oxygen and he’s in desperate need of fresh air. Your grip on his hand tightens as he deepens the kiss, and you pray to God that your heart won’t explode into a million pieces like it did when you thought you wouldn’t see him again. 

I’ve died and come back to life twice now, Rooster tells himself. 

And both of those times, you’re the angel that magically appears to save him from a certain, unfortunate fate. 

tags, including people who may be interested (sorry if this list seems off, it hasn't been updated in a while hahah): @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @purelyfiction @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @buckysbeloved @lyn-lc @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @cherry-waved @ellabellabus07 @vitanileon @lam-ila @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @queenbbarnes @yeehawnana @t-stark35 @thesunsetphantoms @danirose-0420 @callalily2000 @the-untamed-soul @shizzybarnaclee @bananaa @luvfurdogs @shalaniela @unordinare @and-claudia @lgg5989 @katiemcrae @elenavampire21 @joyfullyswimmingface @nyx2021 @cosm1cfae @ellabellabus07 @vane28282 @bittergomez @littlebadariell @tallrock35 @whotfatemywaffles @hoedameronsworld @aerangi @julia-marshal @uwiuwi

(also if you filled out the general taglist form/top gun taglist form and you're not on here, that means i couldn't tag you for some reason)

#top gun #top gun: maverick #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfic #top gun fanfic #top gun fic #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw x reader #miles teller #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x y/n #top gun maverick fic #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x you

[hedgehog-moss]

Ant lovers, this is not the post for you, I'm sorry.

I have a big anthill in the worst location, between my house and the greenhouse, so that the ants are invading me on two different fronts! Over the past two months or so I've tried a lot of methods to make the ants feel unwelcome, from the humane Earth Mother approach to more aggressive ones, but nothing worked. Flooding them with water. Then boiling water. Dish soap. Vinegar. Diatomaceous earth, which usually solves just about every problem. The ants did not care. I tried asking, then suggesting, then bargaining, then insisting, then threatening, then

Sorry, ants. You should have taken my threats seriously.

I meant to wait until everything was fully consumed before extinguishing the fire, but then I realised I was out of dog food (when you buy one of these 20kg bags of kibble you always feel like it'll never run out and then it does in the most unexpected and untimely manner, every time). I had time to pop by the store before it closed, and by this point the fire was just a few embers left at the bottom of the tragic moon crater that used to be a magnificent ant palace. You can see my chickens keeping an eye on it from above:

I fully trust my chickens but still, before I left I went to tell the carpenter working in my barn today that I've been burning an anthill, the fire is almost out but could he glance out the window every now and then while I'm in town, and maybe go and throw a bucket of water if he sees my house engulfed in flames? I'm just going on a quick, half-hour errand.

He agreed, so I left.

I ran into the librarian at the grocery shop, who of course invited me over for a cup of tea. It's genuinely impossible to say no to such offers—I mean, you say no and then you end up at the librarian's house having tea anyway. You'd think the possibility of my house and llamas going up in flames if I don't go home to monitor the embers would be a foolproof excuse to get out of a tea invitation, but there are no excuses. The librarian wanted me to taste the giant cookie she baked and she wanted to talk about something stupid our president said or did recently and I had no choice but to follow her.

But it's okay, the carpenter and the hens are on top of the situation!

Still, I felt antsy (sorry) as I sat in the librarian's kitchen and watched her feed Pandolf cookie crumbs. (She had some crumbs set aside for her own dog, but her dog is tiny and scared of Pandolf so she remained at the other end of the kitchen, intensely interested in the unattainable cookie crumbs, mentally willing Pandolf to disappear from her kitchen, vibrating with despair, the picture of anguish.)

I tried to use Pandolf as a pretext to cut my visit short, but I had zero cooperation from my traitor dog. "We've been gone a while, he probably needs to pee!"

The librarian asked me about the carpentry stuff going on in my barn right now and I didn't want to start a whole new conversation which would inevitably lead to half a dozen anecdotes about construction work, when I'd already had such trouble wrapping up the let's-trash-talk-Macron conversation (it's not that I don't want to trash talk Macron. But my house was burning, maybe.)

I tried to point out again that my house was probably ashes by now and the librarian said serenely, "Well, your carpenter will feel obligated to hurry up and finish the job much faster if you have no house anymore and must move into the barn."

I agreed that there's an upside to everything, but still. I had to go.

Just as I was leaving the librarian's house, I saw the carpenter's car entering town. I waved at him and he stopped and opened the window and told me everything was going well, and I said, "And the fire? It must be out by now."

"What fire?"

He had absolutely not checked the fire. (He was standing next to a noisy machine when I made my request so it's possible he didn't hear me well and figured I was checking on his work and just went "Yeah, all good!") (I'm trying to be fair)

And yes, okay, it was just a few embers at the bottom of a pit with heavy, wet winter earth all around, but I'm a pessimist so I threw Pandolf into my car and drove home at full speed. For some reason what I pictured during this quick, worried drive home was ant payback. A long line of determined ants stretching from their ravaged anthill to my house, each one of them carrying a tiny burning twig. I don't think two chickens would be enough to suppress that.

When I reached my dirt road, I couldn't see my house from afar but could see a plume of smoke in the middle of the woods. It looked pretty small, but still, I was relieved when I got closer and found that the smoke rose from the exact location of the anthill and nowhere else.

I'd taken precautions, like wetting the earth around the pit and choosing a day when some rain was expected in the evening, but a lot of forces conspired to ensure the embers were left unattended, from a forgetful (or confused) carpenter to Pandolf's love of cookie crumbs and the librarian's inescapable friendliness. (She whatsapped me to ask if my house was on fire and I said (jokingly) no, but no thanks to you!! And she was a bit contrite and said, it's Macron :( we spent too long on this topic... And I said no I know, of course I blame Macron and she sent me a handshake emoji)

The ants were not in an avenging mood btw, they were teeming around the crater looking quite defeated, it made me sad. (But I hope they're defeated.) I didn't throw my bucket of water over it straight away because I was a bit fascinated by the inside of the anthill, from up close it looked like the Mines of Moria.

I crouched down next to the ants and we wordlessly watched the last embers slowly die as night fell over the pasture. It was very atmospheric until Pirlouit started braying with absolute fury because it was almost dark and his evening hay was still nowhere to be seen.

#crawling along

[daycourtofficial]

Love Potion No. 9

Summary: Azriel returns from a mission and can’t seem to keep his hands off of you.

Author’s note: happy halloween! I thought a fun love potion theme would be so cute and fun!

(Part 2)

Can you come into Azriel’s room?

Rhysand’s request permeates your thoughts. You rise from your spot on the couch, placing a marker in the book you’re halfway through. You pad down the hallway, passing Mor, who gives you a soft smile.

You reach Azriel’s door, knocking softly before letting yourself in. You walk over to Azriel, who’s sitting on his bed with Cassian and Rhys standing facing him.

Rhys made these visits mandatory after Azriel went on three back to back missions and no one realized he hadn’t slept for 6 days until he winnowed in the dining room instead of his room, crashing on the table. Since that happened, Rhys has been making you, their healer, check on everyone post mission.

“Hi Az,” you say, stepping up to him.

“Sweetheart! Hi!” He says, putting his arms around you, enveloping you immediately.

You give Cassian a confused look. The two of you were exceptionally flirty and spent all of your time together, but Azriel was only this touchy when on the rare occasion he allowed himself to get drunk. He especially was never this touchy in front of his brothers.

You wrap your arms around him as he tucks his head into the crook of your shoulder. “Can I check you out, look you over?”

“Baby, you can do much more than that.”

Your cheeks heat immediately, but you don’t address it. You assess him for injuries, which you found none. As you’re assessing, he keeps his hands in a loose circle around your waist, trying to touch as much of you as he can while you’re working.

“Okay, Azriel, I didn’t find any injuries, are you in any pain?”

“I was, actually, in a lot of pain earlier.”

You stop, holding hand as you ask, “what happened?”

He looks down at his feet, thinking about whatever had caused his pain, as he says, “we were apart for several days.”

You roll your eyes, unsure of what has brought this on from him.

“Can you follow my fingers with your eyes?”

You hold up your pointer finger from each hand, holding them in front of his face, as you begin moving your left hand in the left direction. He does as you ask, following your hand, but as you start moving your fingers, you feel his hands slither down to cup your ass.

You hear Cassian try not to laugh.

“Did you ingest anything that you didn’t pack while you were gone?”

He sighs dreamily, “the only thing I want to put my mouth on is you.”

Your jaw drops, but Azriel doesn’t notice. He just starts playing with the ends of your hair, muttering about pretty your hair is when it’s loose.

“Did you have any problems winnowing?” You ask, trying desperately to keep this professional and to get through this check up. You half forgot that Cassian and Rhys are still here, if it weren’t for the occasional giggles from them.

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. He rests his hands on your waist, not looking away from your face. “Just thought of home, and you showed up. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.” He states, winking very over dramatically at you.

You see his canteen, and ask, “may I?”

“Everything I have is yours, sweets.”

Cassian’s snort escapes without his permission.

You grab his canteen of water, screwing off the cap and sniffing it.

“Can I see you two out in the hallway?” At the mention of leaving him, Azriel pouts, his hands tightening around your waist. He starts to speak, but you cut him off, “I promise I’ll be right back.”

That response somewhat appeases him, and after Azriel untangles himself from you, not without a ton of huffs from him, the three of you step out into the hallway. You extend Azriel’s canteen with the lid screwed off out to them. “Smell this, what do you smell?”

Cassian takes a whiff, as does Rhysand.

“It smells like the air in the clouds, like,” Rhys takes another sniff, “like the soap Feyre loves. And clean sheets.”

Cassian smells it, “it smells like strawberries and sex.”

You chuckle before starting, “this is a love potion. Someone has drugged our shadowsinger.”

“But he was fine until he saw you - wouldn’t a love potion make him fall in love with who he saw first?” Cassian gasps, “I saw him first! It should be me,” almost offended Azriel wasn’t hanging off of him like he was you.

You laugh, “no, Cass. Love potions can have a certain person in mind, but you have to be an incredibly talented potionmaster to brew such a concoction.” You blush a little before continuing, “most love potions can only exacerbate feelings that are already there. Hence why I had you two smell it - it smells differently to you two. If it was brewed for a certain person, it would smell like them.”

Rhys looks at you, a mischievous grin showing on his lips, “you didn’t tell us what you smell.”

Your blush deepened even further, “it smells like books,” you sigh, looking at your feet, “and like Azriel’s cologne, which is why I couldn’t smell it on him and asked you two to smell it.”

Cassian wolf whistles and you hit his arm, “shut up.”

“Should we be worried? How long will the potion last?” Rhys asks, changing the topic for a moment.

“They usually only last for 12 hours. Supposedly it is all encompassing. I’ve never seen anyone take it before, so I’m not sure what to expect.”

The two brothers look at each other and grin. “Oh no, poor Az. Being looked after by our beautiful healer for twelve uninterrupted hours. However will he cope?” Rhys’s signature smirk stretching his face.

“Rhysand, if you’re insinuating I’d ever take advantage of a patient under the influence of a love potion, you’d be gravely mistaken.”

“Well, I didn’t see you exactly prying his hands off your ass, now did I?”

Cassian mutters under his breath, “I’m sure Azriel can find it in his heart to forgive you if you took advantage.”

You roll your eyes so hard you’re concerned they might actually get stuck. The two bats turn to leave, deciding they’ve teased you enough for now. Cassian turns around, making kissing noises at you as they disappear down the hall.

When Rhys and Cass are out of earshot, Cassian tells his high lord, “you owe me 50 gold marks.”

Rhys scoffs, “you owe me 100 gold marks for the love potion.”

Cassian rolls his eyes, “call it even?”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel/reader

[radiosteve]

I Knew You

Summary: You and Steve Harrington have hated each other ever since sixth grade, which made living next door to him all the more miserable. It hadn't always been like that though, shared smiles and loving gestures in secret before popularity went to his head. But now, Steve somehow keeps finding ways to squeeze himself back into your life, making you question if the boy you once knew, the one you might have loved, still lived somewhere within him.

Note: Its been a bit since I last posted, but I had this idea and really wanted to write it. I'm currently drowning with work and school stuff for my masters so my next fic might take a hot minute and will definitely be shorter. This takes place in the fall after season 4 and both Eddie and Max survived with minimal injuries. It’s also partially inspired by Cardigan by Taylor Swift, hence the lyrics as chapter titles. This ended up being way longer than I intended for it to be, but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, no use of y/n (reader is referred to as Baby), smut, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), enemies to lovers, language, mentions of blood/injuries, some cannon divergence, fluff, angst, slowburn.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader

Word count: 30.5k (I got carried away)

I knew I’d curse you for the longest time

The last salt of the summer air lazed its way through the breeze, picking up the fresh fallen leaves with it. There wasn’t enough foliage on the ground to worry about raking them just yet, but it still brought a chill down your spine at the thought of autumn’s rapid approach. You were sitting on the window bench in your room with a book in your hands and your back against the wall as the breeze floated through the open window, making the curtains dance despite being drawn back. It was a moment of quiet, something you desperately needed.

You were lost in words on the page before you, taking them in sentence after sentence, until the loud slam of a door interrupted your trance. The sound of the door was followed by singing, loud and obnoxious singing. More specifically, Steve Harrington’s loud and obnoxious singing. He had just strolled into his room, playing air guitar along to whatever metal song he was bellowing. A metal song that you presumed Eddie had played so many times on the tape player in his van that it somehow ingrained itself into Steve’s pop-hits brain. 

You sighed, shaking your head to try and brush off the noise as if this was a daily occurrence. Well, it almost was, in some form or another. You lived next door to Steve Harrington for as long as you could remember. Your bedroom windows faced each other too, allowing each of you to gain small, often unwelcome, glimpses into the other’s life. Just about every girl in school had come up to you at least once to tell you how lucky you were to have such an easy way to see Steve Harrington. Then they’d always proceed to ask if they could join you for a sleepover at your house, no doubt just to get a chance to spy on the boy in his natural habitat. 

Your eyes flitted back down to the page, stuck on the same sentence ever since your ears were met with the unwelcome disturbance that was Steve Harrington’s singing. He’d moved on from singing to vocalizing the song’s guitar solo, which was somehow even more annoying. Steve’s arms moved wildly up and down his fake guitar as he banged his head up and down. If you weren’t so annoyed you’d honestly be impressed by the amount of endurance Steve’s performance surely required. But you were annoyed. Annoyed enough to finally speak up. 

“Do you constantly have to make so much noise or do you just like to hear the sound of your own voice?” your remark rang out through the open window, trickling through the air to reach Steve’s room. You didn’t look up from your book, doing your best to look unbothered. Steve stopped singing and thrashing about. His heavy breaths evened out slightly before he responded, slowly approaching the window sill.

“Do you constantly have a stick up your ass or do you just like to pretend that you do?” your eyes widened at that, putting your book to the side as you turned to face the window, to face Steve. He had a smirk on his lips, one that you were more than familiar with by now. It was the smirk he flashed each time he said something that he knew would piss you off. Quite frankly, it was the expression you were most familiar with seeing Steve wear at this point in your life. 

“If there’s a stick up my ass then it's only because you put it there,” it was a lame comeback. You knew it. Steve knew it. But they can’t all be winners. You winced as the words fell from your lips, waiting for Steve’s retaliation, which was sure to be unsavory.

“I don’t recall ever doing that. But Baby, if you bend over I’d be more than happy to oblige,” Steve's smirk grew wider. Whether it was the stupid nickname or the sexual nature of his response that caused the flash of his pearly teeth, you didn’t know. However, you did know that you hated it, all of it. You hated that you constantly walked right into his dumb little comebacks. You hated that he seemingly had an endless supply of them just for you. You hated the day that the stupid nickname was ever aimed in your direction and you hated that Steve Harrington was the one to do it. 

It was late September 1978. Summer was still putting up a fight, albeit a weak one, to keep its warmth in the air. It had rained the night before, washing away the fresh fallen leaves to get stuck in the gutters along the roof or in the storm drains beside the narrow streets. School had only started back up a few weeks ago, and somehow, Steve found himself climbing the popularity ranks. It was a big deal for a sixth grader who’d only just begun his journey at Hawkins Middle to be so admired so fast, but Steve was already starting to see people worship the ground he walked on. He liked the idea of it, that he could waltz through the door of some place and up and run it so soon. His dad always said that the Harringtons were winners, and Steve knew he would be nothing if he disappointed his dad. 

Steve was walking to school that morning, Tommy and Carol to his left as a group full of his classmates followed closely behind. It was as if Steve had his very own entourage. They were a few blocks from the school when he saw it, a bike abandoned on the grass next to the sidewalk. There was a backpack beside it too, laying face down as if it had been thrown off in haste. It didn’t take long for Steve to realize why the bike before him looked so familiar. It was the same one he had seen you on almost every day that summer. The bike you rode to the library, to Lover’s Lake, to the movie theater, to the quarry. As long as it was a place with a good story waiting to be watched or read, or a quiet environment to immerse yourself in a good book, someone was sure to find you there with that bike. 

Steve panicked for a moment, preparing himself to run to the police station and report that you had been kidnapped. But then he looked up. You were hunched over the sidewalk a few yards up, picking at something on the surface of the cement. Steve’s legs moved, the others following, and stopped once again, this time only a few feet from where you sat on the sidewalk. Steve’s brows furrowed as he looked down, finally getting a good look at what you were doing. 

You sat there, slowly and gently peeling the dried worms from the sidewalk. Then you parted the grass next to the sidewalk, putting the worm down to get it as close to the soil as possible. Steve watched you curiously as you moved on to the next worm. It was then that the breeze picked up a bit, shifting away the hair that covered your face. Steve saw it, the tear tracks running down your cheeks as you struggled with the worms that Steve was sure were already dead. A few chuckles sounded from the group behind Steve, and suddenly he remembered that it was not just you and him on that sidewalk.

You too had suddenly become aware of your audience then, head snapping up to see the group in front of you. Your eyes landed on Steve. His expression was etched with empathy, an emotion Steve still held onto no matter how much Tommy tried to strip it from him in his sudden rise to king status. At that moment you didn’t care about the others or the tears that still leaked down your soft cheeks. You cared about the poor worms that stuck to the sidewalk. Your gaze landed on Steve, appealing to the boy who lived beside you for so many years.

“The rain,” you sniffled and Steve’s heart ached at the sound. He’d seen you cry before, as he was sure you had seen him cry too, through the cracks in the curtains obscuring bedroom windows. Each time Steve had to stop himself from marching over to your house and wrapping you in a comforting hug. It was an urge that he still had to repress, even here and now. “The rain cools down the sidewalk and the worms like to come out onto it. But it- it’s not raining anymore. It's too hot for them now. They- they’re burning alive,” fresh tears fell, replacing the old ones. They ran races against each other, fighting to be the first to drip off of your chin and onto the cement below. Steve’s mouth opened, but he was cut off by the boy beside him.

“Whatever, worm girl. Just move out of the way so we can get to school,” Tommy’s words rang through the air, the entourage laughing at you from behind him. Steve could picture it now, you’d spend the rest of middle and high school deemed as the worm girl. You’d hide in all of your classes, eat lunch by yourself in the library, and ignore the taunts that echoed throughout the hallway. Worm girl, worm girl, worm girl. You’d leave Hawkins the day after graduation, a car full of boxes, your life packed up and tucked away in each, and you’d never return. You’d start a new life in a new city that only knows you by your real name, not some playground-esque tease that stupid Tommy Hagan awarded you in 6th grade. You’d be happy there, build a place you could call home, find your one true love, and Steve would never see you again. 

Steve had to stop this now. He had to bury the name worm girl in the ground before it could ever fully emerge. And there was only one way that Steve’s prepubescent brain could think how. Your eyes flickered from Tommy before landing back on Steve, willing him to say something, to defend you. Maybe that was too much to ask.

“Damn, that was lame. Worm girl, really? Are we five?” Steve pulled his gaze from yours. He couldn’t bear to see the look of hope that blossomed in your eyes. Not with what he was about to say next. “I mean, if anything, we should call her Baby since she’s crying like one,” small giggles sounded off behind Steve before being overtaken by full-blown giggles and laughs. And there it was. Steve’s master plan had come to fruition. Replace a bad nickname with a not-as-bad nickname. It wasn’t a great plan, he knew that, especially when he saw the scrunch of your brows and the quiver of your bottom lip, but it was the best that Steve’s 11-year-old thoughts could conjure on such short notice. And Baby really wasn’t that bad. It's a term of endearment for Christ's sake. Or at least that’s what Steve would tell himself.

Tommy laughed from beside Steve, throwing an arm over Carol and guiding her to walk around you. The others followed, hurling a few taunting calls of ‘Baby’ at you as they walked by. You looked back down at the ground, refocusing yourself on the task at hand, ignoring the cracks running along the foundations of your heart. Maybe Steve wasn’t the same boy you had grown up with. Maybe his middle school fame had gone to his head more than you thought it would. More than you hoped it would.

You had just freed another dried worm from its place on the sidewalk when you saw it. A pair of Nikes in front of you. Steve Harrington’s pair of Nikes. He hadn’t gone with the others. It was like he was rooted to the spot. You placed the worm into the depths of the grass, tilting your head to look up at the boy towering over you.

“Screw you, Steve,” you spoke harshly, doing your best to let venom lace your words despite the shake in your voice. Steve didn’t say anything back. He just crouched down in front of you, gently picking up the last worm from the sidewalk. He copied what you had done, parting the grass to place the worm close to the damp earth below. Steve stood up then, walking back to the group that had now passed you, heading towards the school. They hadn’t even noticed he was gone. 

Steve rejoined them, sticking to the back of the group to not draw attention to his momentary absence. He looked back at you then, finding you with your head turned over your shoulder, already gazing at him with confusion plastered across your face. He shot you a soft smile, one that he had typically reserved just for you. It only lasted a moment, but for that moment you were more perplexed than before.

In that smile was Steve. The Steve. The one that had plaid wallpaper in his room and hand-drawn pictures of cars taped to the walls (some that you had drawn for him). He was the boy who had a slew of green army men sitting on his window sill, the same ones that he had given you. They sat pointing towards the street out front, and never ever at you. They protected both of your rooms. The soldiers protected them from monsters, wizards, ghosts, and disappointed parents. At that moment, Steve was the boy next door who left messages taped to his window for you to see. The boy who stayed a few paces behind your bike after school to make sure you got home safely. He was the boy who promised to love you always before placing a peck on your lips when you were both five. He was the boy you knew, not the one who humiliated you in front of his friends. 

But the moment ended. The smile dropped from Steve’s face as quickly as it had appeared. He turned his head back around, putting more and more distance between the two of you. You watched him for a moment longer until you finally managed to tear your gaze from his retreating figure. You moved then, leaning over the grass to see the worm that Steve had placed there, worried that he left it too high up. Most of the worms were dead long before you got there, you knew that, but it didn’t stop you from trying to help them. All the worms in the grass were lifeless and unmoving despite your efforts. All except one. It was the worm Steve had placed there.

You jumped into action then, using your fingers to dig a hole in the dirt. As quickly as you could, you placed the worm into the hole, covering it with the fresh soil. Its tail poked out just a bit and you watched with bated breath as it slowly retracted, moving deeper into the ground below. You glanced up at the sidewalk again, expecting to still see Steve in the distance, but he was gone. Over the hill and out of your eye line, just like the worm. 

“Don’t call me that,” you bit through gritted teeth and Steve just laughed. His stupid, obnoxious, loud laugh. The one that warned you that danger was near anytime you heard it in the hallway in high school. 

“Would you prefer I call you something else?” Steve pondered dramatically, bringing a finger to his lip and glancing up as if he were trying to remember something. “Maybe worm-” Steve began, a look of anger more prominent on your face now.

“Fuck you, Steve,” you cut him off before he could finish his taunt. He was about to say something else, no doubt another snarky comment that you could definitely afford to miss. It was about to spring from his lips when Steve was met with the sound of your window slamming shut. You locked it too, pulling the curtains closed and retreating to your bed, no longer in the mood to read. Steve stared at the purple curtains now blocking his view of you. Oh, how he hated that specific shade, knowing that they were the only thing keeping him from gazing at you. 

Steve closed his window too, locking it the same as you had. But he kept his curtains open, hoping to maybe catch a glimpse of you later. The hand-drawn cars that once lined his walls were replaced by movie posters, ones he had gotten for free from work. He still had the army men littered along the window sill though. Most of them had been knocked over on their sides and Steve never bothered to pick them back up. They pointed at your room now, though Steve never intended for them to do so, unlike you who had purposefully aimed your soldiers at Steve’s window no more than a few days after Wormageddon.

Steve sat back on his bed, laying down and placing his arms under his head. He’d made you mad. Gotten you all riled up, just as he had planned from the second you opened your mouth. So why did he not feel better right now? Why did his stomach hurt and his heart refused to rest? This battle was over. The war waged on but this was still a victory worth noting in the imaginary books. He hadn’t gotten the final word but he still won nonetheless. Isn’t that what he was supposed to do? He was a Harrington after all, and Harringtons were winners. Right? 

But I knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss

The sun crept along the horizon, unwilling to give in to the moon just yet. Orange and pink illuminated your room through the open curtains. You sat at your vanity, applying a final layer of gloss to your lips before smacking them together. Unbeknownst to you, Steve had been watching you through the window. He admired the effort you took while getting ready, although he knew you didn’t need it. Steve would never admit it, he’d repressed it for far too long, but he thought you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. 

You turned towards your closet, digging through it to find a pair of shoes that matched your outfit. Steve couldn’t help the clawing desire to know what you were getting ready for. There weren’t any parties that he knew of that night. Maybe you were hanging out with Nancy and Robin. He couldn’t imagine why you’d need to get dressed up for that though. Steve wished your window was open. He would lean on his window sill, asking about your plans for the evening. He’d say it in that snarky Steve Harrington way. The way he knew would elicit an eye roll in response. But maybe you’d give in and tell him. Maybe you’d invite him to go with you. Or maybe Steve was letting fantasy mix with reality.

A car horn sounded from outside, pulling Steve from his thoughts with a jump. He didn’t realize he was still standing at his window staring at you. At least he hadn’t until you rushed to your window, trying to get a glimpse of the vehicle out front. Your eyes locked with Steve’s then and you could’ve sworn you saw him blush. You brushed it off, refocusing on why you had come to the window in the first place. Parked on the street in front of your house sat a van. A beat-up, rusty, falling apart at the seams, van. Steve’s gaze followed yours, also noticing the van below. A van he was more than familiar with at this point. 

You bent over, pulling on your shoes as quickly as you could before rushing out of your room and down the stairs. Steve jumped into action then, doing the same from within his own house. He burst out the front door just in time to see you grabbing for the handle of the van’s passenger side door. Steve peered through the windshield getting a glance of the unruly curls that rested on Eddie Munson’s head. You hopped into the van and Eddie looked up, seeing Steve cut through his yard and head towards the van. You fastened your seatbelt and looked up, also catching sight of the boy rapidly approaching you.

“Eddie, please drive. Like right now,” you turned to the boy next to you. Your voice came out shaky and desperate. Definitely not the commanding tone you’d hoped for.

“Sorry, princess. Gotta see what the hair is so adamantly chasing us for,” Eddie shrugged and you groaned, throwing your head back. Unfortunately that only made Eddie laugh at you.

“If you leave right now, I’ll do anything you ask for the rest of the night,” you pleaded, clasping your hands together to beg.

“As tempting as that sounds, it’s a bit too late,” Eddie points to the window behind you. You turn, seeing Steve standing next to your window, hand raised in a wave. Eddie leaned over, arm reaching across your lap to crank the window down, because he knew damn well that you wouldn’t do it. Not when Steve was standing on the other side at least.

“You’re like a goddamn jumpscare. I hope you know that Harrington,” you spoke, folding your arms over your chest as Eddie retreated back to his side of the van. He could identify the hint of jealousy on Steve’s face all too well. It was the same look Steve wore anytime a guy got too close to you or made you smile a bit wider than normal. Eddie was well aware of Steve’s complicated feelings for you, even though Steve sure as hell wasn’t.

“Whatcha up to? I thought you were staying home tonight?” Steve asked Eddie, resting his hands against the van’s door. He was close to you, too close. You leaned back in your seat, putting more space between the two of you.

“Well, now I’m not,” Eddie shot Steve a cheeky smile and Steve just blinked in response. “Ok fine,” Eddie gave in, unraveling under Steve’s stare. He hated lying to Steve, especially now that they’d gotten closer. “We’re going to see some band play at The Hideout. We’ve had these plans for weeks. I lied about staying home,” Eddie rushed out and your mouth dropped in shock.

“One look into Harrington’s sparkly eyes and you're spilling your guts? Pathetic,” you groaned from your seat. Eddie rolled his eyes, focusing them back onto Steve.

“You think my eyes are sparkly?” Steve quipped, a smirk growing on his lips. You heard Eddie laugh beside you and you couldn’t help the scowl that formed on your face.

“Get over yourself, Steve,” you moved your hand over the window crank, threatening to roll up the window, but Steve stopped you.

“Wait! I wanna come with,” he spoke quickly, eyes darting back and forth between you and Eddie. You couldn’t help the laugh that formed in your throat. “What’s so funny?” Steve glared at you then.

“Well, for one, you hate metal music,” you began and Steve scoffed.

“So do you,” Steve tried to retaliate, but the smirk on your lips told him he was fighting a losing battle.

“Sure, I’m not the biggest metal fan, but I like it enough and I love the energy of the crowd. Plus Eddie and I have been doing this for years. It doesn’t even matter, you’re not coming with us so you might as well give up now,” you spoke, lifting your hand in a sarcastic wave goodbye.

“Good thing it’s not up to you then. It’s Eddie’s van. He gets to decide,” your head snapped in Eddie’s direction then. You glared at him and focused as hard as you could. When you were younger, you and Eddie were convinced that you’d be able to communicate with each other telepathically if you tried hard enough. It never worked of course, but it never hurt to try. Eddie understood you better than anyone. He became your number-one confidant since the day you met. Surely he could pick up on your brain waves begging him to bar Steve from your plans.

Eddie headed towards the band room at Hawkins Middle with his guitar case swinging in his hand. He was early, intending to warm up on his own before the rest of Corroded Coffin got there for band practice. Eddie flicked on the lights, expecting the room to be empty. But it wasn’t. You were there, in the corner of the room, tucked between some music stands. You’d been curled into a ball and looked up when the fluorescent lights came on, illuminating your hidden figure. There were tears streaked across your face after a particularly brutal day of taunts from Tommy and Steve. Eddie set his guitar down and moved towards you slowly.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a quiet voice, hesitantly approaching. You remained silent, rising from your spot on the ground and wiping away your tears with your sweater sleeve. “I’m Eddie,” he spoke again, extending his hand for you to shake when he got close enough. You told him your name but didn’t meet his hand with yours, not yet.

“But everyone calls me Baby,” your voice was hoarse from crying but Eddie heard you loud and clear. He was an eighth grader but even he’d heard about the poor sixth grader that the popular kids had been calling Baby. It had moved beyond just them though. All of your classmates, teachers, and neighbors had adopted the name for you. 

“Well, I won’t call you that, not if you’re not comfortable with it,” Eddie reassured you. He had been victimized plenty by the popular kids. He understood what it felt like, which is why he was shocked when you shook your head. His hand fell back to his side.

“No, it’s ok. I’ve been telling people to call me Baby to help reclaim it, I guess. It took Marissa the librarian forever but she’s finally gotten used to it. My parents still slip up, but that’s to be expected,” you shrugged. What you didn’t tell Eddie was that it still hurt when the name spilled from Steve’s lips. You weren’t sure why it did. But the more you were called Baby by everyone else, the more desensitized you hoped to become to it.

“Reclaim the name?” Eddie asked, eyebrows furrowed. You nodded, suddenly unsure what the boy in front of you thought. “That’s pretty metal,” a smile stretched his lips and his hand shot back up between you, beckoning for yours to join it. “It’s nice to meet you, Baby.”

“You too, Eddie,” you mirrored his smile, finally placing your small hand in his. Eddie’s calloused fingers enclosed around the back of your palm and two became one. You were inseparable. Inseparable in everything except for the reoccurring nightmare scenario that kept popping up in your life. You’d been dragged in early on, being one of the last people to see Barb before she went missing. You’d caught a glimpse of her through your window, sitting on the diving board above Steve’s pool, when suddenly she was gone. You joined Jonathan and Nancy in their quest to find her and kill the thing that took her. It sucked to keep Eddie out of that part of your life, but it was for his own good. Or at least it was until this past spring when Chrissy Cunningham became Vecna’s first victim right before the poor boy’s eyes. Then you told him everything. Your two worlds fully merged, and you and Eddie became totally and fully inseparable.

Your glare bore into Eddie’s and you thought you had gotten through to him. You were wrong.

“Alright Harrington, hop in. Quickly though, I don’t want to miss the opening act,” Eddie conceded, turning to face his gaze towards the road ahead. He could feel you burning holes into him with your eyes. You rolled the window up as Steve opened the van's back door. 

“We’re so working on the telepathy thing again. Evidently, you’re in desperate need of a refresher,” you grumbled and Eddie chuckled at how mad you were at the addition of Steve to your plans. Steve closed the van door, lounging in one of the bean bags Eddie kept in the back. After what felt like the longest ride of being tossed around the back of Eddie’s van, Steve was never more thankful to see The Hideout come into view. The three of you filed out of the van as the sound of metal music filtered through the bar’s closed doors. Much to Eddie’s dismay the opener had already started their set. It smelled like cheap beer and cigarette smoke, causing Steve to wrinkle his nose.

“Go get us some drinks from the bar. Baby and I will get us a spot up near the front,” Eddie handed Steve a few dollar bills, enough to cover both your drink and his own. You and Steve might hate each other, but you’d been around each other in enough alcohol-fueled group settings to know each other’s drink orders. Steve beelined towards the bar, yelling over the music to order your Dirty Shirley with extra cherries, Eddie’s Rum and Coke, and his own Long Island iced tea.

He spotted you and Eddie pushing through the crowd. You were in front of Eddie, his forearm thrown across the front of your shoulders to keep you close. The two of you stopped not far from the stage. You leaned up to say something in Eddie’s ear, your back flush with his chest, and Steve felt a rush of jealousy run through him. Eddie had told him countless times that the two of you were just friends. That the kisses he’d once shared with you while high were just meaningless, drug-fueled, pecks on the lips. That was a lie of course, but Eddie definitely wasn’t going to tell Steve about the way you moaned against his lips until the two of you sobered up enough to feel embarrassed and swore to never speak of it again. Sometimes Steve needed to be lied to about certain things, mainly so Eddie wasn’t on the receiving end of Steve’s right hook.

The bartender placed the drinks in front of Steve in exchange for the wad of cash slapped on the counter. Steve grabbed all three glasses and began his trek through the tightly packed crowd. He’d gotten really good at holding a bunch of stuff in his hands at once during his brief stint at Scoops. Steve made it up to you and Eddie, passing the drinks to each of you. The three of you watched the opening band’s set, dancing as much as you could with drinks in your hands and a packed crowd.

By the time the opener’s set was over you had sipped enough of your drink to expose one of the cherries in your glass. Steve couldn’t help the way his mouth gaped as he watched you fish the cherry out with your finger, popping the morsel in your mouth and pulling it from the stem with your teeth. Eddie eyed the boy next to him, amused not only by Steve’s aroused reaction to such a simple thing but also by your complete obliviousness to said reaction. Despite the lack of music coming from the stage as you waited for the headlining band to come on, Eddie still had to shout over the buzz of the crowd.

“Show Stevie the thing,” Eddie gestured towards the cherry stem between your fingers. You shook your head in protest, but Eddie gave you his best puppy dog eyes and you were instantly beat. You rolled your eyes, placed the cherry stem on your tongue, and closed your lips. Eddie brought his arm up, glancing back and forth between you and his watch. Steve was baffled by the coordinated performance that the two of you were putting on in front of him. After a few seconds, your mouth popped back open. You plucked the cherry stem from between your teeth and held it up for Steve to see.

“Seven seconds! That might be your personal best,” Eddie exclaimed while Steve looked closely at the stem. It was tied in a knot. He took it from between your fingers and was about to ask how you did it when the band came on stage. Steve’s hand trailed down to his side, tucking the tied cherry stem into his pocket. He wasn’t sure why, but throwing it away felt wrong for some reason.

The band was really good, especially the lead singer. He was only a few years older than you and he had gorgeous, blonde hair that flowed down to his shoulders. Steve had scoffed when the singer winked at you during their set, but you couldn’t hear the sound over the music. The three of you had a surprisingly good time together, although it's pretty hard to fight with such loud music blaring throughout the room. Eddie and Steve were tasked with finding a table after the band left the stage and you got stuck with grabbing everyone new drinks. 

“That was actually really fun. How often do you guys do this?” Steve asked, his pants getting stuck to cheap faux leather as he slid into a booth opposite Eddie. 

“Once every month or so. It depends on which bands are playing,” Steve was listening to Eddie or at least he was at first. His eyes had been scanning the bar, trying to find you. When he finally did, his expression hardened. You leaned with your elbow against the bar, waiting for the bartender to come back with the drinks, but you weren’t alone. The lead singer of the headlining band was beside you. He was smiling at you, and even worse for Steve, you were smiling back. Eddie noticed the change in Steve’s demeanor, the jealousy that now filled the hazel of his eyes. He tracked Steve’s gaze across the crowded bar, landing on you. 

Eddie was impressed. He’d seen you bag your fair share of hot guys after a show at The Hideout, but never had you managed to get with the lead singer of the headlining band. Steve, on the other hand, was not impressed. He was livid. It didn’t help that the lead singer had just placed his hands on your hips, pulling you flush against him as he leaned in close to whisper something in your ear. Steve quickly slid out of the booth, stomping his way through the crowd of people, heading towards you. Eddie winced, knowing he should chase after the boy, but slightly curious to see what would happen if he didn’t. Steve pushed through the bodies surrounding him, stopping just in front of where you stood against the bar.

“What's taking you so long with the drinks?” He called out and your head shot up at the sound of his voice. The smile that had grown on your lips quickly faded at the sight of Steve. The singer, Corey, looked up from where he had just started to kiss your neck. He didn’t move his hands from your hips despite Steve’s pointed glances. 

“Hey man, you’re kind of interrupting something right now. If you want a drink then ask the bartender or whatever,” Corey moved to face you again, but Steve wasn’t done.

“Hey man,” Steve mocked Corey’s words. “You need to take your hands off of her right now,” your brow furrowed in anger while Corey filled with confusion.

“Sorry dude, didn’t realize she was your girl,” Corey assumed based on Steve’s comment and began to move his hands, but you stopped him.

“I’m not, I swear. I barely even know that guy,” Steve scoffed at that and you shot him a glare. Corey’s eyes flitted back and forth between you and Steve. He looked more confused than ever, almost painfully so. 

“I’m way too high for this. You have her, man. It's not worth the fight,” Corey held up his hands in defense. Eddie had just worked his way through the sea of people in time to see Corey back away from you, scan the crowd, and head towards some pretty redhead across the room. Steve looked triumphant as he turned his gaze back to you. Eddie thought you looked like you were about to go ballistic. He’d never seen you that mad before in his entire life. You looked even angrier now than you had when Eddie purposefully put gum in your hair and it got stuck so badly that you had to give yourself bangs to get rid of it. Eddie was about two seconds from sprinting out of the building to save himself from being a witness to what was sure to be Steve’s murder when the bartender, Dave, called out from behind you.

“Here’s that Long Island for you, Baby,” you spun around, revealing the Rum and Coke and Dirty Shirley that sat on the counter behind you. You thanked Dave, giving him a good tip, before turning back to Steve. Because even in your fury, you could still be nice to the waitstaff. You picked up the Long Island, marched towards Steve, and slammed the drink directly into his chest. 

“Since you wanted it so fucking bad,” you pushed past him, not caring about the way the liquid sloshed over the lip of the glass, coating your hand and Steve’s shirt. You moved towards the exit, slamming the door open into the moonlit darkness outside. Steve took a second to process what just happened. He placed the remainder of his drink back on the counter before following in your path. Eddie groaned, grabbing his now abandoned drink from the bar and downing it. He grabbed your drink from beside his, knowing you’d need it when this was over, and followed Steve. You had made it to Eddie’s van and tugged on the door handle, cursing the long-haired boy for actually locking it for once.

“What the hell was that?” Steve called out from across the parking lot with his arms held wide. He was stalking towards you at a furious pace. You were so pissed that you didn’t even notice your feet dragging you forward to meet him in the middle.

“Where the fuck do you get off?” you asked in response instead of answering his question. Steve stopped when the tips of his shoes touched yours, scrunched faces mere inches from each other. “First you invite yourself along to Eddie and I’s thing and then you ruin my chances with the very hot lead singer of the band. You did that for what, huh? Shits and giggles? I don’t give a shit who you are Harrington, that’s too fucking far,” you yelled, rage boiling beneath your hot skin. 

“He wasn’t that hot,” Steve scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes widened. Eddie, who had just made it out to the parking lot, was surprised there wasn’t steam shooting out of your ears at this point.

“Is that the only thing you fucking heard from what I just said?” you brought your hands to your forehead in exasperation. “You’re such an asshole! I thought it would end when we graduated. Like you’d grow up a bit after graduation day. Hell, Robin said you’d matured, changed, and left the King Steve shtick behind. Eddie is one of your best friends now, the boy you taunted for years. So what is it about me, huh? Why are you suddenly too golden-hearted to bully everyone else but you never stopped fucking with me?” you had gotten close to Steve, not that you noticed through your tunneled vision of anger. Your heavy breaths fanned across Steve’s lips as you awaited his response.

“I-” Steve opened his mouth to respond and then quickly shut it. He didn’t know. Well maybe he did know, somewhere deep down, but it wasn’t something he could say to you now. Not in The Hideout’s parking lot where a crowd had started growing around you. Steve stepped back, creating the space between you that you desperately lacked at the moment.

“That’s what I thought,” you stepped back too, turning to walk towards Eddie. You quickly stopped, facing Steve once more. “Do me a favor, find some other girl to lurk around for a while. It's bad enough that you live next door. I really don’t need you following me wherever I go like some fucking creep,” you spun on your heels again, grabbing the drink from Eddie’s outstretched hand and throwing it back like it was fruit juice. 

Eddie unlocked the van and you slid inside, slamming the door behind you. Eddie’s eyes met Steve’s with a grimace. Eddie looked at you in the van and then back to Steve. Steve got the message; Eddie couldn’t take you both home together. Maybe Steve was the one with telepathy instead. Eddie’s remorseful eyes searched Steve from across the lot. Steve conceded, gesturing for Eddie to take you. He was the one that fucked up anyway. If anything he deserved to be the one that had to call a cab. Eddie shot Steve a tight-lipped smile before hopping into his van and driving off. Steve watched the van’s taillights as Eddie rolled through a stop sign, speeding off into the night.

The light in your room was off when the cab finally dropped Steve off at home. He wasn’t surprised, expecting that you’d be at Eddie's trailer, erasing the night from your thoughts with a shared joint. Steve trudged up the stairs, opening and closing his door softly behind him so he didn’t wake his parents. They’d be gone for another business trip in the morning, leaving one less thing for him to worry about tomorrow. Steve’s window was still open from earlier, allowing the cool night air to seep in. He laid back on his bed, thoughts racing in the silence. And that’s when he heard it. A soft sob, then a sniffle. A deep breath, then another sob.

Steve sat up, his gaze aimed in the direction of the sound. His eyes landed on you, sitting on the floor of your darkened room with your back against your bed. Your window was cracked open, the way you normally kept it at night, allowing the birds to wake you with their songs in the morning. Steve stood, moving towards the window. You couldn’t see him from this angle, not that you would have been able to regardless with the tears clouding your vision. Steve frowned. An ache in his chest, the same one he’d felt whenever he heard you cry, flourished within him. He wanted to comfort you. To wrap an arm around you and let cry into his chest. To tell you it would be okay and ask who’s ass he needed to kick. But he couldn’t. You weren’t friends. You hated him. And it’s not like he could kick his own ass. 

He didn’t realize, didn’t even feel it, but a tear slipped down his cheek, matching the flood that crowded yours. Steve lifted his hands to rest on the window, leaning against it as his brows furrowed over the broken look on your face. He pushed down, shutting the window softly, locking it, and closing the curtains. He couldn’t listen to you cry anymore. He remembered what you said, and he didn’t want to linger. The tear rolled off Steve’s chin, drowning a little unsuspecting green soldier on the window sill below. Steve moved away from the window and laid back on his bed. He felt around his pants pocket and fished out the knotted cherry stem. Steve’s eyes roamed over it for too long before he set it aside on his nightstand and closed his eyes. He couldn't sleep that night, no matter how hard tried. In the quiet dark of his room, Steve swore he could still hear your muffled cries.    

Drunk under a street light

Black and white flickered from the TV screen, illuminating the dark room that you lounged in. You were lazing on the couch, mindlessly picking at the bowl of popcorn in your lap. The movie playing across the room did nothing to pull your unfocused stare from the coffee table in front of you. It wasn’t until you received a light kick to the thigh that you could finally shifted your eyes away.

“Okay, ouch,” you glared at Robin who was lying across the couch beside you, feet practically draped across your lap. She sat up, digging her hand into the bowl of popcorn. Her perfume scent lingered in the air around you even after she pulled back. It was sweet and light like she had just finished baking a batch of sugar cookies.

“You’ve been begging me to watch Casablanca with you for months and you’re not even paying attention to it now that I actually am,” she lifted her hand towards the screen before bringing her handful of popcorn to her lips. It's true. You had been dying to get someone to watch Casablanca with you for ages. Eddie watched it once and then refused to do it again after he ended up crying at the ending. Rick Blaine’s selfless act of giving up his one true love to give her a better life brought tears to the cold-hearted boy’s eyes. He made you promise not to tell anyone, especially Dustin. 

“Sorry Rob, I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” you apologized, trying your best to pay attention to the movie again. You’d been zoned out for the entire first half of the movie, not that it mattered. You knew exactly what was happening on screen, given that you’d seen the movie a million times. It got to a point where Steve started keeping a copy under the counter at Family Video so there was always one available when you came in.

“Are you thinking about Steve?” Robin asked, her voice overpowering Ingrid Bergman’s as Ilsa confessed why she left Rick alone in Paris. Your head snapped towards the girl beside you and you could see the faint smirk growing on her lips.

“Why would I be thinking about Steve?” you answered her question with your own. The smirk fell from her lips then and she rolled her eyes. Robin sat up, pressing pause on the remote.

“Because he was totally jealous and caused some huge blowout fight between the two of you. And when I say huge I mean huge. It’s been over a week and you still won’t even acknowledge that he exists,” Robin explained, turning to face you better. You sighed and faced her too. You tried to avoid talking about Steve with Robin. Ever since they became friends it seemed too weird to talk shit about him in front of her.

“First of all, Steve definitely wasn’t jealous. He’s just a menace that loves to torment me,” Robin snorted a laugh but didn’t interrupt, allowing you to continue. “Second, Steve and I aren’t friends so me not talking to him for a week really isn’t that big of a deal,” Robin shrugged at that, seeing your point. “And third, how the hell do you know about all of this?” a guilty look spread across Robin’s face and you quickly realized the answer to your question. “Eddie’s got a big mouth,” Robin nodded in agreement at your words. 

“I would’ve figured it out regardless. Steve’s been moping around for days. He’s really beating himself up over the whole thing,” you chuckled and Robin shot you a confused glare.

“What? I find it hard to believe that Steve Harrington even remotely cares about anything that has to do with me. Well unless it has to do with making my life a living hell,” you leaned back again, digging your hand into the popcorn bowl once more. Robin just stared at you, obviously baffled by something. 

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe somewhere in Steve’s caveman brain all this ‘torment’ is actually his way of expressing that he likes you?” Robin asked and repositioned the blanket that covered her lap. You stopped mid-chew, considering Robin’s words. You swallowed hard, sitting up and placing the popcorn bowl down on the couch between you.

“So what, Steve pulls my pigtails on the playground and it’s all okay just because he likes me? That’s such a toxic ideology, Rob. Not only that, but the suggestion that Steve actually likes me is insane. I mean have you heard the worm story?” you felt defensive, as if you were being attacked even though you weren't. You couldn’t understand why your heart wouldn’t stop racing at the thought of Steve liking you.

“Of course, I’ve heard the goddamn worm story,” Robin threw her hands in the air, nearly knocking over the popcorn in the process. “And I didn’t say that it was a healthy way of expressing his feelings. It just might be the only way he knows how. It’s not like his parents are great role models in teaching him about love and stuff,” a quiet fell over the room while your head raced at Robin’s words. You’d been so wrapped up in your feud with Steve that you hadn’t taken the time to consider his life outside of you. 

You knew Steve’s parents were pretty absent based on the lack of cars in the driveway. And it was well known across town that Mr. Harrington was an asshole, no need to grow up next door to figure that out. Steve adored his dad when he was younger, and talked about how he wanted to be just like him. But you had heard the fights that seeped through the open windows in the years that followed. The disappointment that filled Mr. Harrington’s face when he entered Steve’s bedroom and saw the movie posters lining the walls. You wondered then what Steve’s parents thought of his decision to forgo college. Whether they argued with his choice, fought with him to take a chance to change his future, or if they just accepted it, not expecting much else from their disappointing son.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Robin studied your face as you spoke. You looked lost, like you were questioning your past with Steve. After a moment the hint of a smile graced your lips and Robin furrowed her brow. “Still doesn’t mean he likes me,” you quirked as Robin sat up, grabbing another handful of popcorn. 

“Oh whatever,” she launched her fistful of popcorn at you, hitting your face with the popped kernels before they fell to your lap. You retaliated, throwing popcorn back at her. The popcorn fight quickly ended when Robin picked up the bowl, dumping the rest of its contents over your head. The two of you fell into a fit of laughter while you tried, and failed, to pick the popcorn kernels from your hair. Eventually, you gave up, resting your head on Robin’s shoulder, the crunch of the popcorn sounding off as you did. Her shoulder was bony, uncomfortably stabbing your cheek with each delicate press against it, but you didn’t mind. Neither of you was very touchy-feely with each other, though you were never sure why, so it was nice to have a rare moment of intimacy. It granted you a deeper understanding of one another and a peak into the mysterious ways that each of your brains worked.

“Go to a party with me tonight?” Robin asked softly, not quite ready to leave the comfortable quiet just yet. You kept your head still on her shoulder and closed your eyes, inhaling sharply.

“Since when do you actively attend parties?” you questioned and Robin’s shoulder shook beneath you as she let out a gentle laugh. It was a comforting sound, like waves at the beach or rain on the pavement. That’s what Robin was to you. A comfort. Sure, Eddie was your best friend and you’d known him longer, but Robin understood you in a way that he didn’t. She controlled your chaos and balanced it with ease and truth. Robin matched your energy, knew what was best for you, and made you feel heard.

“Since Vickie asked me to go,” Robin winced out the words, anticipating your shift away from her side. Just as Robin thought, you lifted your head, turning to face her.

“So you’re not inviting me to go to a party, you’re inviting me to Third Wheel all night?” you raised your brow, eyes pouring into the girl beside you. Robin winced, shrinking into her spot on the couch. “Alright, I’ll go. Got nothing better to do anyway,” Robin cheered triumphantly at your concession, standing to go to your room and start getting ready together. You stopped her, gesturing to the popcorn that littered the couch and floor. She groaned, reluctantly helping you clean up the mess she made.

You’d walked to the party, arriving after everything was already in full swing. The sticky air reeked of weed and cheap booze as you pushed your way through the front door. It was sweltering inside the house. Sweaty bodies pressed themselves closely together on the dance floor, sipping on whatever deadly concoction resided in the punch bowl. Robin made a beeline for Vickie as soon as she walked through the door. There were familiar faces, people you knew from high school and whatnot, but no one you particularly fancied talking to. That is until you saw a mop of brown curls approaching with a black lunch box in his hands.

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here,” you called out over the boombox that was blaring music throughout the room. Eddie wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you to walk along with him. He guided you to the kitchen, stopping in front of a countertop littered with booze. You weighed your drink options, eventually pouring some vodka and Sprite into a solo cup, disappointed at the lack of cherry grenadine. You held up a bottle of rum pointed in Eddie’s direction, but he shook his head.

“Strictly business tonight sweetheart,” Eddie patted the lunchbox in his hands. You nodded in understanding, bringing your cup to your lips. “Where’s Buckley?” he asked, suddenly noticing the missing girl that he was sure dragged you here. You didn’t even have to speak, just pointing your finger to where Robin danced with Vickie across the room. Her hair was already a mess and her cheeks were flushed bright pink. You were about to say something else, keep your conversation with Eddie going, when he received a tap on his shoulder. It was some jock looking to make a deal. Eddie gave your hand a quick squeeze in place of goodbye and led the guy to the back of the house.

So there you were, standing alone in a crowded kitchen, regretting your decision to come in the first place. If only Nancy or Jonathan were there to keep you company, too bad they were both off at their respective colleges. Hell, you might even take Steve’s companionship at this point, because the longer you leaned against this countertop, the more boxed in you felt. What you didn’t know was that Steve was there. He thought it would be a good way to get his mind off your fight, but as he stood in the corner of this too-hot house, sipping a lukewarm beer, and listening to his old basketball teammate drone on and on about how they should’ve won the championship game their senior year, Steve realized he was wrong.

It especially didn’t help when his eyes scanned the room and somehow landed on you. You were alone, searching the room, presumably for a familiar face, when he spotted you. Luckily for Steve, you remained oblivious to his watchful gaze, giving him some time to study you since he felt like he hadn’t been able to in ages. He considered going over to you, to keep you company, but before he could even take a step, someone else approached you first. Your face dropped to a scowl at the sight of the freckled boy who now stood in front of you.

“What’s wrong Baby? Not happy to see me?” Tommy asked, a devilish grin hiding his lips. Steve was rooted to the spot, unable to move. He wanted to march over to you, drag you away from the douchebag before you, but he couldn’t will his legs to trudge across the congested room. He was never good at standing up for you, especially not to Tommy. 

“Is anyone ever happy to see you?” you asked, crossing your arms and keeping a close grip on your cup. Tommy looked you up and down, hungry eyes boring into your skin. Suddenly you wished you brought a sweater to cover your bare shoulders. Steve still watched you from afar, his stomach turning at the desire that lingered in Tommy’s expression.

“There are plenty of girls around here that love when I show up,” Tommy grinned, leaning in closer. He reminded you of a shark with his teeth bared, waiting for a lowly seal to stumble into his pathway. “I could show you why if you come upstairs with me,” his lips came dangerously close to your ear, muffling the music that rattled the room. 

“I’ll pass,” you grimaced at his offer. Tommy’s grin faltered and you brought your cup to your lips with a shrug, trying not to look too smug at your denial of his advances. That must have been what set Tommy over the edge. He reached up, slapping the cup from your hand, ignoring the liquid that splashed over you both. His face leaned in close as his arms caged you against the counter. 

“Fuck you,” he spat, his face close to yours. “You’re just some weirdo bitch anyway,” you were scared at that point, terrified even, but you remained calm. Showing your fear would be the worst thing to do. Steve’s heart raced in his chest as he watched Tommy corner you. He took a step forward, moving in your direction.

“A weirdo bitch that won’t fuck you,” you fired back at Tommy and his face turned red with fury. Maybe poking the bear wasn’t a good idea. Suddenly someone knocked Tommy to the side, freeing you from him. You looked up, seeing a flash of red hair and someone in a striped shirt. Vickie and Robin. 

“Woah man, we were spinning around and kinda lost control. Didn’t even see you there,” Robin leaned down to where Tommy now sat on the floor. She shot you a wink when he wasn’t looking. Vickie offered him a hand, but he brushed her off, standing on his own. He looked around, catching the glances of some of the partygoers, and stomped off, too embarrassed to continue trying to pursue you. Steve had made it about halfway through the crowded living room when Robin and Vickie took down Tommy in some sort of weird spin attack. He stood there now, watching as they checked over you. “You alright?” Robin asked you while Vickie inspected you for any bruises or blemishes from Tommy.

“Yeah, I’m all good. Think I’m just gonna go actually,” you looked down at your shirt, taking inventory of how damp it was from your spilled drink. 

“We’ll go with you,” Vickie spoke up, taking hold of your arm as if she would guide you out. You shook your head, sliding her hand down to yours and giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go. 

“No, you guys stay and have fun. I’m gonna try and hitch a ride. I’ve gotta know someone around here that’s planning on leaving soon,” you had no intentions of actually getting a ride from someone. But you knew Robin would never let you go if she knew you were going to walk home alone and you just needed to get out of there. You would ask Eddie, but you knew he needed the money he’d make from selling tonight so you didn’t want to bother him. 

“Okay,” Robin nodded, granting you permission to leave. You gave her and Vickie a two-finger salute and made your way to the door. “No rides home from anyone on the basketball team. Past, present, or future. I swear all of those guys are creeps,” Robin called after you, turning a few heads as she did. You chuckled, continuing on to the door.

Steve still stood in the living room, watching the three of you closely. His eyes followed you as you trekked through the crowd to the door. Once you finally made it outside, his gaze shifted back to Robin only to find that she was already looking at him. She motioned with her head to the door, encouraging him to follow after you. So he did. Steve threw away his half-drunk beer and burst through the door. You were already halfway down the block when he got in his car and pulled up next to you. 

It was cold outside, especially for early September, a chill lacing the breeze with each gust. It definitely didn’t help that your shirt was still soaked through. You saw the headlights of a car approaching behind you, brushing it off as you shivered and pulled your arms close. It took you a moment to realize that the car hadn’t passed you yet. You turned your head, suddenly facing a maroon BMW with its windows rolled down. A groan escaped your lips, but you still bent down to peer through the window. Steve’s car came to a stop, a smile gracing his lips at the sight of your exasperated face.

“You stalking me now, Harrington?” Steve let out a chuckle and a gust of wind picked up, making you shiver again. 

“You wish. Come on, get in and I’ll drive us home,” he studied your face, searching for a sign that you’d agree. He couldn’t find one, your body unmoving from your spot on the sidewalk. 

“I’m perfectly capable of walking. Plus Robin said no rides from anyone on the basketball team,” you shot him a sly smirk and stood up straight, continuing your walk through the neighborhood. You’d expected Steve to drive off then, leaving you to walk in peace. But he didn’t, his car followed alongside you. “What are you doing?” you asked, stopping again to see Steve through the passenger window.

“If you won’t let me drive you home, then I’ll just drive next to you,” Steve shrugged, looking up at you.

“What if I cut through someone’s backyard?” you asked and Steve shrugged again, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Then some people are gonna be really pissed to see tire tracks on their lawn,” he replied and you almost wanted to laugh at his persistence, entertained by Steve’s unwillingness to let you be alone. His smile faltered then. “You and I both know the kind of shit that lurks around Hawkins at night,” any amusement from before had slipped away. None of you mentioned the Upside Down much now, not after finally defeating Vecna. It was final, the battle that ended the war, destroying the Upside Down for good. You couldn’t help the lingering fear that you’d missed something, that one day it would all return. And here, on the sidewalk after some lame party, you realized that Steve shared that fear too. 

“Ok,” you said simply, shocking Steve as you pulled on the passenger door handle and slid into the seat next to him. He waited until you buckled up before rolling up the windows and driving off. It was quiet in the car, the lingering tension of all the unspoken words swirling in the air. Steve heard the sound of your teeth chattering and your hands brushing the goosebumps on your arms. He quickly reached into the back, grabbed an old sweatshirt that sat there, and handed it to you. Normally you would’ve rejected it, your pride too inflated to accept help from Steve in any form. But it was cold, your shirt was wet, and your conversation from earlier with Robin still lingered in the forefront of your mind. 

Steve didn’t expect you to take his sweatshirt so easily, replacing his hand on the wheel when he felt the weight of it lift from his palm. You pulled his sweatshirt on, reveling in the warmth it provided. It smelled like hairspray and lavender, a hint of boy mixed with the two. It smelled like Steve. Silence settled over the two of you again and Steve couldn’t stand it anymore.

“I’m sorry,” the words burst from within him, head turning to look at you for a moment. You looked calm and objective like Steve hadn’t even spoken in the first place. “The whole thing at The Hideout was so stupid. I don’t even know why I did that,” you looked at him then, expression still neutral. “I guess I just feel like I need to protect you and I took it too far,” your brow scrunched at that, finally giving Steve an insight into your thoughts.

“Protect me? You and Tommy tormented me for years,” anger rose in your throat. You hadn’t meant to get mad, still considering what Robin said, but Steve’s twisted claim brought it out of you in the way that only he could.

“I know, I know. And I’m sorry about that too. I just- I just wanted to fit in, to be cool. But I realize now that none of that shit ever mattered. I mean, how important was popularity when the one person that I actually cared about couldn’t stand me?” Steve spoke and the tension in your face dropped. The one person Steve cared about? Was he talking about you? You took a deep breath, thinking over your words when the car came to a stop in front of your driveway.

“Steve,” you spoke softly, almost a whisper, like the breeze rattling through the trees. “I can’t just forget about all of it because you’ve abruptly changed. I can’t just decide to be your friend all of a sudden. You hurt me, for a long time. Hell, you still do,” Steve winced, wanting to turn back time to when you were five, when nothing bad had happened to you yet and things were much simpler. 

“I know,” Steve’s head sunk, his chest aching with each passing second.

“I just,” you stopped, jumbled thoughts bouncing around your head. “I just think it’s easier when we keep ourselves apart. It doesn’t hurt as much that way,” the streetlights above reflected the swelling tears in your eyes as they threatened to spill. You hadn’t meant to cry, and you surely didn’t want to. Steve understood your sentiments. Being around you only reminded him of how it could’ve been if he hadn’t tried so hard to fit in. If he hadn’t screwed it all up.

“But maybe we could try. Try to be friends,” the words surprised Steve as they left his lips. They came out far bolder than he felt capable of being at the moment. “Group settings, public places. Baby steps, you know?” Steve tried to stop the hope building in his chest, too worried about the damage it would do if you said no. But you didn’t. 

“Maybe,” you said in a whisper, a tear finally tracking down your cheek. A soft smile slipped over Steve’s lips, the same one he wore around you as a kid. The same smile you saw before he traipsed over the hill, leaving you on the sidewalk with the worms. Your lips twitched upwards for a second before you pulled the door handle and exited the car. 

The feeling of hope now took full form, blossoming in Steve’s chest, filling every crack and crevice between his ribs. He watched you walk up to your front door, still wearing his sweatshirt, slipping inside your house with a small wave in Steve’s direction. Steve put the car back in gear, pulling into his driveway next door. He shut the car off and leaned back in his seat, still unable to wipe the smile from his face. Maybe. He could work with maybe.

You drew stars around my scars, but now I’m bleeding

Eddie’s van was a mess. Your legs brushed against fast food wrappers while cigarette butts covered the floor, crunching under your sneakers. It smelled like weed and sweat with a hint of the black ice air freshener that you forced him to buy a while ago. It was early afternoon, the sun still high in the sky as Eddie made a right turn out of your neighborhood.

“Why are we doing this again?” you asked, shifting to look at Eddie. He had his hair pulled up into a messy bun that you insisted on doing for him. It was a rare and rather unwelcome hairstyle for the metalhead, but it was well warranted for the occasion. 

“Because Buckley wants to learn how to play basketball and Harrington asked for my help,” Eddie shrugged, approaching a stop sign and making a left. You rolled your eyes, letting out a huff of air from your chest.

“But you hate basketball,” you groaned, wondering why Robin would even want to learn how to play in the first place. 

“Yes, but they’re my friends and they asked for my help, so my help they shall receive,” normally you would have laughed at Eddie’s goofiness, but the thought of being around Steve loomed over your head. You still hadn’t seen each other since the party, just glimpses through bedroom windows. It was hard to say where either of you stood with each other. Becoming friends seemed like an impossible feat on your part, too stuck in the past to care about the potential future.

“Okay, so why am I included in this? Steve didn’t ask for my help,” you pulled your feet from the trash-covered floor, finally sick enough of how the garbage touched your ankles. Your feet rested on the seat and you hugged your knees close to your chest. Your head sat atop them, watching Eddie closely with narrow eyes, trying to figure out if this was some scheme to get you near Steve.

“Each team needs two players, Baby. Kind of hard to play a two v. two with only three people,” you let out another groan and Eddie smirked in response, knowing you couldn’t refute him anymore. He made a sharp right turn, pulling up to the outdoor basketball courts that sat behind the high school. Eddie turned off the engine and tapped your knee. It was his way of telling you to get out of the car and lock your door behind you. The two of you began your walk over and could just barely make out three figures through the holes in the chain link fence that surrounded the basketball courts.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear athletic shorts before. I might pass out at the sight of your legs,” you said to Eddie as the two of you walked through the gate, entering the basketball court. You barely had time to accentuate your comment with a smirk before Eddie leaned in close.

“Reel it in, Baby. Best not to flirt with me in front of Harrington. Wouldn’t want to risk him getting jealous again,” your face grew hot at Eddie’s comment, the thought of a jealous Steve stirring something deep in the pit of your stomach, something like desire. Eddie donned a stupid smile as you approached Robin, Steve, and Lucas in the middle of the court.

“What’s up with you?” Steve asked, noticing your flustered appearance. Your eyes darted back over to Eddie, who continued to wear the same shit-eating grin as before.

“Nothing, just ready to play some basketball,” you deflected and Steve nodded, covering the basic rules of the game. Lucas was acting as the referee for the match, making it feel much more intense than it should have. That’s probably why you took it so seriously, covering Robin as if your life depended on it. Steve won the tip-off, sending the ball back to Robin. She caught it and began to dribble towards the basket. She looked like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time as she made her way up the court, nearly smacking the ball away from herself in the process. You used it to your advantage, managing to grab the ball from her, dribbling up the opposite side of the court, and scoring a basket from the three-point line. Steve retaliated after that, shooting his own shot and tying the score. It continued like that for a bit, Eddie and Robin eventually gave up on trying to cover the both of you, which was how you ended up in front of Steve, desperately attempting to block his shot.

“Worried you’re gonna miss?” you taunted as Steve dribbled in front of you, your back to the basket. A cocky smirk overtook his lips then, bringing the ball up to shoot. It would’ve gone in too, if you hadn’t smacked it out of the air, stealing it for yourself. You sprinted down the court towards the other basket with Steve hot on your trail. He managed to get in front of you and you turned your back towards him, protecting the ball in the meantime before you could get a clear shot. “Come on, Harrington. I thought you were the team captain back in high school. Figured you’d be better than this,” you knew it was dangerous, teasing him in such a flirty way, but it was all in good fun, right?

“Oh, I’ll show you, Baby,” Steve practically whispered into your ear, his chest pressing against your back. If you weren’t so focused on beating Steve you would’ve felt the goosebumps that littered your spine. Steve’s arms came up to circle you, so you moved, pivoting to take your shot and knocking Steve out of the way in the process. He lost his balance as the ball left your fingertips. You felt Steve’s hands find your torso as you watched the ball tip into the basket, dragging you down with him as he fell. Your shirt had ridden up when you made your shot, causing Steve’s fingers to brush against your bare skin. It felt like you were falling in slow motion until you finally landed hard on top of Steve, your back flush to his chest. 

Pain shot up your sides as Steve’s fingernails scraped against the semi-healed scars that resided there. You got up quickly, not taking the time to register your pain, lifting your shirt again to see that the wounds had broken open on both sides. It took Steve a second to get up after hitting the ground so hard. The others rushed toward the two of you, but your eyes landed on Steve, his gaze already honed in on the fresh blood pooling on your skin. His hands came down to his own torso, feeling the scarred flesh that matched yours. 

After everything was said and done, the dust settled and Vecna gone for good, there was only the matter of medical care to worry about. Eddie was mostly unscathed, with a few bat bites here and there, but nothing some disinfectant and band-aids couldn’t fix. Lucas was sure to have a swollen eye, cuts, and bruises after fighting Jason. Max was delivered to the hospital where the doctors said she would make a full recovery but might need a pair of glasses. Which just left you and Steve. You had jumped in right after him at Lover’s Lake, fighting your way through the water as he was tugged deeper below. When you popped out of the gate mere seconds after him, the bats swarmed you too. It wasn’t until Nancy appeared, oar in hand, that you managed to escape the feeling of the bat’s teeth sinking into your skin. 

The bats had gotten you good, doing just as much damage to you as they had to Steve. When the fight was over and everyone was safely right-side-up, you refused to get medical care, worried that you’d be poked and prodded while Owens’ doctors tried to study your wounds. Steve refused too, unwilling to be treated unless you were first, not that you knew that.

Robin and Eddie insisted on staying with the two of you to make sure nothing bad happened in the middle of the night. But you said no, pointing out that Eddie needed to stay hidden until his name was cleared. Not to mention that you just wanted to be alone after the strenuousness of the previous few days. You assured Robin and Eddie that your parents would take care of you if anything happened, same with Steve. They reluctantly agreed, dropping you and Steve off in front of your house, leaving the two of you to go your separate ways.

You were about to trudge up the lawn and enter your house, thinking about finally being able to sleep, when you caught sight of Steve’s empty driveway. You hadn’t even thought about the fact that his parents were out of town, and he hadn’t mentioned it to Eddie or Robin either. Steve had already started walking towards his house when you called his name.

“You didn’t say that your parents weren’t home,” you jogged up to him, wincing at the pain that shot up your side. Steve shrugged, also looking desperate for a decent night of sleep. Steve turned around again, continuing towards his house, leaving you on his lawn. You started following him until he saw you from the corner of his eye and stopped again.

“What are you doing?” the words sounded twisted as they fell from his lips, the same venom you expected from the boy who bullied you for years. Your face grew hot with anger, suddenly wondering if you should just turn back around and retreat to your house.

“You can’t be alone tonight, not when you’re in such bad shape,” you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to come across firmly in an attempt to discourage Steve from arguing with you. He simply raised a brow in question. 

“I think I’ll be fine,” he moved to turn on his heel again, to scale his front steps and enter the cold empty house before him. But your arm shot out, landing on his arm and stopping him in his tracks. Steve froze, mind racing at the feel of your skin against his. He couldn’t remember the last time you touched him, given that you usually kept your distance whenever he was near.

“Steve, I can’t leave you alone in good conscience. If you bleed out and die, that’s on me,” you spoke the words quietly, almost sounding embarrassed to have to say them at all. Steve studied you, eyes roaming over your face. The walls you kept up around him seemingly fell in that moment as he caught sight of the worry hidden deep in your gaze. He nodded then, giving in and leading you to his front door, trying not to look visibly upset when your hand no longer held him.

The house was just as you remembered from when you were a kid. Clean and organized, everything in its designated place. It always frightened you back then, a house so pristine that it didn’t look like anyone could possibly live there. You followed Steve as he ascended the staircase, both of you winded and clutching your wounds when you got to the top. Steve showered in the bathroom attached to his room, offering you a towel and clean clothes before sending you off to the guest bathroom.

The hot water pulsed down on you, blood and grime swirling around the drain at your feet. The water seared your skin with each drop, but you didn’t mind, hoping the sweltering heat would rid you of the horrors you’d witnessed within the past few days. The sight of Eddie being tackled to the ground by a swarm of bats. The sound of Steve’s screams as his flesh was torn open. Your own wails of pain as the bats did the same to you a few feet away. Max’s broken limbs and unfocused eyes as Lucas held her in his arms on the way to the hospital.

You turned the shower off, unwilling to let your thoughts run rampant anymore. You were careful when drying off, avoiding your wounds to keep blood from soiling Mrs. Harrington’s stark white towels. She’d be sure to have a fit at the sight of a stain. You dressed quickly, pulling Steve’s old shirt and baggy sweatpants on. There wasn’t a first aid kit in the guest bathroom, so you headed back to Steve’s room, holding your shirt away from your body to avoid getting blood on it. You knocked gently on Steve’s bedroom door and it only took a moment for him to open it for you. 

His hair was wet, a towel draped over his bare shoulders. He was shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips as water dripped down his hairy chest. Your eyes lingered there for a moment before trailing to the bandages wrapped around his torso. Steve’s eyes followed yours, landing on the gauze tied tightly to his skin.

“I seem to get the shit beat out of me anytime something like this happens,” he used his towel to gently pat his hair dry. “I’ve gotten pretty good at patching myself up,” Steve shrugged, hanging the towel on the back of his bathroom door. 

“Can you do mine?” you asked quietly, lifting your shirt to reveal your wounds. Steve’s gaze flickered down to them, blood from each gash threatening to spill down your sides. His breath caught in his chest at the sight of your exposed skin. It was dumb, just your stomach on display, but it took Steve a second to contain himself. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before, memories of your bare skin seen on the few occasions that you forgot to close your curtains before changing. Steve always looked away, but the flashes of your skin were seared into his brain. He nodded in response to your question, going into the bathroom with you trailing behind him. He told you to sit on the counter, pulling out the first aid kit from the cabinet next to your dangling legs. Steve wiped each wound with an antiseptic wipe, cleaning the area and sopping up the thin blood that surrounded it. His hands were gentle and soft like he was afraid to touch you, to break you.

“Hold this,” Steve placed a gauze pad on one of the wounds, his fingers guiding your hand to rest over it, holding it in place. He ignored the tingle in his fingers as his skin brushed yours, moving on to place another pad over the other blemish. Your hand came up automatically, holding it in place without Steve having to tell you again. He unraveled the rest of the gauze, slowly wrapping it around your waist, softly brushing your hands away when he no longer needed you to hold the pads in place. Steve circled it around you a few times, finally securing the gauze tightly in place with a swift knot.

“Thank you, Steve,” you whispered, his face close to yours. Steve hummed in response, letting his eyes drift to your lips for a moment too long before pulling himself away and packing up the first aid kit. He returned it to the cabinet, his shoulder brushing your leg in the process, sending chills down his spine. 

Steve stood then, opening the linen closet by the door, searching for a blanket to give you in case the guest room got too cold. You were tired, to the point of exhaustion really, longing to lay your head against a soft pillow. But fear came creeping in, the demons in your closet, or the demogorgons rather, holding your mind hostage. The fears controlled you then, in combination with the exhaustion, speaking words from your lips that you otherwise wouldn’t have even considered muttering.

“Can I sleep in here? With you?” when you were first dropped off all you could think about was finally being alone, but as you sat there now, Steve's clothes covering your skin, you realized that wasn’t what you wanted at all. Steve froze, and his quest to find a blanket quickly halted. He looked up at you, taking in the heavy bags under your eyes, the weight of the past few days slumping your shoulders forward. He knew under normal circumstances that you never would have asked, and probably couldn’t have even stood being in the same room as him for more than two minutes, but these weren’t normal circumstances. And he would take what he could get.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll sleep on the floor. You can take the bed,” Steve turned to the linen closet once more, searching for a blanket for himself this time. He heard you slide off the counter, thinking you’d brush past him and get into his bed, but you didn’t. You stopped next to him, pulling Steve’s focus to you.

“You can’t sleep on the floor. What if you bleed out? I’d never know if you were down there. At least not until the morning,” Steve placed his hands on your shoulders, ceasing your seemingly endless babble. Your eyes were wide and bloodshot, staring back at Steve with a worried brow.

“Okay,” he agreed, trying to calm himself, the jitters of being so close to you creeping in. “We’ll both sleep in my bed,” his hands fell to his sides and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Steve left the bathroom, turning out the light as he did. You slid into Steve’s bed, the sheets pulled up around you as Steve switched off his lamp. The bed dipped beside you from Steve’s weight. You went to roll over, trying to face him, but you were met with pain, gasping and clutching your side with a hiss. Steve shot up, trying to help you but only injuring himself with his sharp movement in the process. You couldn’t help but laugh as you both settled down onto your backs.

“Aren’t we a pair,” you mumbled and Steve chuckled beside you. The room was dark, filled with the scent of a burned-out candle, Steve's lavender-scented shampoo, dirty laundry, and something else inherently Steve. Your eyes watched the ceiling, lying in silence next to the boy you supposedly hated. He rustled around beside you, trying to get comfortable. In a normal situation, you would’ve snapped at him for moving the bed so much, but right now you found it amusing. After another minute of restless movement, he let out a groan.

“I normally sleep on my stomach, but this shit makes it impossible,” annoyance laced his tone as he referred to the bat bites lining the front of his stomach. Your head turned in his direction, silently taking in his side profile, his sharp nose, and long eyelashes. He almost looked normal if you ignored the angry ring of red flesh lining his neck. 

“I’m a side sleeper,” you spoke softly, Steve’s head turning towards your voice. For some reason, he liked hearing more about you, even if it was just something as silly as how you normally slept. “I’m in the same boat as you, Harrington,” the wounds on your sides making it impossible to lay that way. Steve could just make out the shadows of your face in the dim light. The curve of your lips, the arch of your brow, the tip of your nose. He thought you looked beautiful. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop the bats from getting you,” your lip quivered then, tears welling in your eyes as you lived up to your crybaby nickname. You weren’t sure where the burst of emotion came from, chalking it up to the exhaustion that weighed heavily upon you. Steve lifted his head, his hand coming up to brush away your tears.

“Are you kidding? You jumped in right after me. If you hadn’t been there I would’ve been dead in less than a minute. You distracted some of them. I would’ve been bat food if not for you. If anyone’s sorry it should be me,” you shook your head and Steve’s hand came down to rest on your cheek, thumb rubbing circles against it gently as he spoke. Why were you letting him hold you like this? Why did it feel so comforting? You sniffled, trying to stop your tears from falling. “Baby, you saved me. I need you to know that,” you nodded at his reassurance, too choked up still to use your words. Your eyes were heavy by then, the lack of sleep weighing in on you even more. 

“I'm glad I went through that gate then,” you mumbled, words barely audible through your sleep-slurred speech. With the last of your energy, you moved, rolling onto your stomach, the wounds on your sides untouched by the mattress. Steve followed your lead, moving onto his side, and facing you. His arm draped across you, careful to avoid your wounds, and a soft sigh left your lips as your eyes slowly closed. Your breath evened out soon after, slowed inhales and exhales taking over. Steve’s fingers found the bulge of the cotton pads on your side, tracing across them gently, a comforting gesture that you’d never know about. He wished he had superpowers, the ability to heal you with just a touch. But he didn’t, so he’d do this instead, easing your pain with a soft touch while you slept.

When you woke in the morning you had the overwhelming urge to pee. You slid gently from Steve’s embrace, somehow managing to get even closer to him during the night. You tiptoed to the bathroom, not wanting to wake the sleeping boy. The large mirror covering the wall taunted you when you finished, urging you to take a peek beneath the gauze. You caved, hands gently pushing the gauze to the side. The bleeding had stopped and the gashes already started looking better. It was curious how well they had cleared up overnight, but you just shrugged, used to the strangeness of the supernatural by now. You climbed back into bed with Steve after putting the bandages back into place. You wanted another minute of peace, a moment, maybe the last of its kind, when you and Steve didn’t hurt each other. When Steve Harrington was still the boy you knew, not the one you’d grown to loathe.

“Shit Steve, seriously?” You winced as the blood began to trickle down your skin. “It’s a basketball game, not tackle football,” you lost your balance for a moment, Lucas’ arms shooting up to steady you. Steve stood speechless, incapable of fathoming how his hands did so much harm to you. The skin had never quite healed right, you suppose, more fragile than most other places on your body. “Eddie, can you take me home,” you asked, trying to keep your shirt from getting wet with blood, knowing your shorts were a lost cause with scarlet droplets already pooling at the waistband. Eddie nodded quickly, rushing to your side as if he had to carry you to the van.

“I can take you. I mean, I live next door. I’ll clean you up,” Steve suddenly was able to find words, knocked out of his stupor. He moved towards you then, but you raised your hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“I asked Eddie,” you spoke with a glare, already walking toward the court’s exit. Eddie shot Steve a sympathetic look before following behind you. Robin lifted her hand to comfortingly pat Steve’s back while his mouth fell slightly agape. You got into the van with a wince and Eddie closed the door for you. Robin, Steve, and Lucas were filing off the court then. Steve’s head was down while he unlocked his car. Eddie turned the keys in the ignition, started the van, and began to pull out of the lot.

It was an accident, you knew that, so why did it frustrate you so much? The same hands that once held yours as children now were the ones to lacerate your skin. Maybe it was the ache you buried deep inside, the one you’d never been able to alleviate, the pain Steve perpetuated for years. The one you hadn’t been able to forgive him for no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you wanted to. He left you, tossed you aside like you were some old sweater discarded beneath his bed, like you were nothing. It seemed never-ending like you’d never escape his harmful grasp. You wanted to be five again when the world seemed so much kinder and you loved Steve Harrington. Maybe the latter was still true, maybe that’s why he scarred you more than the others ever had.

As Eddie drove towards the exit, your gaze drifted up, landing on Steve. Robin and Lucas had already gotten into Steve’s car, but he stood outside of it, arms resting on the crook between the car’s roof and the door. His eyes followed you through the van window as Eddie sped away. A strange look overtook Steve’s face, one you couldn’t quite read. It was the look of a boy that never wanted to hurt you, but somehow constantly did.

I knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs

           The sun hid behind the clouds, peaks of light streaming through the cracks in the sky. Tires rolled against the pavement, making their way across town. The radio was low in the car, some Fleetwood Mac song lulling softly through the air. Your car was old, covered in dents and scratches, with windows that only opened halfway and an engine that grumbled with each press to the gas pedal. Even though your parents offered to help you buy a new one, a more reliable form of transportation, you refused. This car held too many memories in its stained cloth seats. Your first kiss in the backseat, jam sessions with Eddie, driving Will, Mike, Dustin, and Lucas to the science fair where they finally got first place again. You couldn’t let it go, not yet, not while it still had some life in it. You knew how much it sucked to be abandoned. 

           The tires screeched and squealed as you turned into the Family Video parking lot. You pulled into a space near the front of the store, dim headlights shutting off when you pulled the keys from the ignition. Robin had told you she was working today, but as you looked around you were unable to find her bike in its normal place on the bike rack. You did however spot a maroon BMW parked near the back of the lot. That lying bitch. A sigh fell from your lips, eyes closing at the thought of seeing Steve. It had been two days since the basketball incident and you had been sure to keep your distance. Steve’s sorry eyes peeked through bedroom windows and only made you feel guilty for getting mad at him in the first place. But you couldn’t stall this any longer, the movies were due today and you’d be pissed if you got another late fee. So you grabbed the tapes from the passenger seat, holding them close to your chest as you closed your car door and walked through the entrance to Family Video.

           Steve stood hunched over the counter, the same way he normally did when the store was empty like it was now. His eyes were glued to the magazine that rested on the counter before him. It was a Cosmopolitan. He was ashamed to admit that he was searching its pages for tips on how to get back in your good graces. So far he was coming up short, but he still skimmed through it anyway. The bell rang above the door, signaling to Steve that a customer had entered. 

           “Welcome to Family Video. My name’s Steve. Let me know if you need help with anything,” the words spilled from Steve’s lips automatically, his gaze still glued to the magazine. It took Steve a moment to register the silence he received in response, brushing it off as another inconsiderate customer. At least that’s what he thought until a stack of tapes slammed down on the counter beside him. Steve looked up then, seeing you standing across from him with raised eyebrows. Your eyes trailed down to Steve’s magazine, and his gaze followed yours. In less than a second, Steve had slid the magazine off the counter, quickly tossing behind him. You simply blinked, an amused smile blossoming on your lips as the magazine crashed to the floor. 

           “I want to return some tapes,” you couldn’t help the smirk that remained as you spoke, pushing the stack of video tapes in front of the boy. Steve nodded, picking up the first tape and scanning it back into the system. “What were you reading there, Harrington?” he could hear your smile through your amused tone, refusing to meet your eyes as he continued to scan your tapes. 

           “Sports Illustrated,” Steve lied, ignoring the way your lips pressed together to contain your smile. You couldn’t contain your laughter anymore, clutching your sides as giggles poured from your throat. Your laughter was contagious, causing a few chuckles to spring out of Steve too. 

           “Whatever you say, Harrington,” you composed yourself, finally ceasing your giggles, but the smile remained taut on your lips. Steve handed over your receipt for the returned tapes, expecting you to leave after clutching it in your hands, but you didn’t. Your feet drifted over to the movie-lined aisles and Steve couldn’t help but follow, tripping over his discarded magazine in the process. 

Eventually, you stopped in front of a shelf, Steve watched the way you studied your options. When one finally caught your attention you leaned up, standing on your tippy toes to grab it. Your shirt rode up in the process, revealing the large bandages that covered the wounds on your sides. Steve’s heart dropped, the memories of the basketball game, the whole reason he had been reading that stupid magazine in the first place, flooded his mind. Just as your fingers brushed the front of the tape, seconds from getting ahold of it, Steve’s hand lifted it instead, offering it to you.

“Thanks,” you said sincerely, only then noticing the kicked puppy look on Steve’s face. You opened your mouth to speak again, but Steve beat you to it.

“I’m so sorry about the other day. I really didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got carried away,” Steve’s gaze drifted to the ground, missing the pity that swelled in your eyes. “I’m sorry this shit keeps happening. It’s just that when I’m with you I can’t seem to function like a normal person,” he lifted his head then, catching a glimpse of emotion in your expression. Regret? Or is it that underlying anger you saved just for him?

“It’s fine, Steve,” you assured him, but the boy wasn’t comforted. He opened his mouth to apologize again, but you didn’t let him. “Dude, I’m sick of hearing you apologize. It's fine. If anything I should apologize for being such a bitch about it. It was an accident, let’s move on,” Steve eyed you, unsure whether you were messing with him or not. But you were serious, hoping that the old Steve still lived within the boy in front of you, and that one day you could make amends. Maybe this was the first step, and if that meant forgiving him for something he accidentally did, then so be it. “Check me out?” you asked, holding the tape up for Steve to see. He nodded, going back behind the counter. He reached down, grabbing a copy of Casablanca from under the counter and placing it next to the movie you had just picked out, but you shook your head.

“You don’t want it?” Steve asked, suddenly wondering if you had been kidnapped and replaced by a clone. That was the only logical explanation for your behavioral change towards both him and your favorite movie. 

“Kinda bored of complicated romances at the moment. Maybe another day,” Steve slid the movie back under the counter, keeping it there in case you changed your mind. “I heard this one was good though,” you gesture to the copy of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off that you had picked out. 

“Yeah, Robin said that she thinks I’d like it. Haven’t had a chance to watch it yet though,” Steve scanned the tape, fixing his gaze on the computer, where he typed in the code for his employee discount. He did it every time you came in during his shift, thinking he was sly and that you’d never noticed, but you caught on a while ago. It came to light after a rousing argument with Robin about how she had been overcharging you. 

You pulled a few crumpled bills from your purse, handing them over to Steve. He waited, knowing you were now going to dig around your purse until you found some coins, never willing to pay with anything other than exact change. After a few seconds, you pulled the coins out, two quarters, a dime, and three pennies. You placed them gently in Steve’s extended hand. His palm tingled with the brush of your fingers, quickly sorting the coins to alleviate the sensation. He handed you the bag with your tape when he finished putting your change away. With a small smile, you turned, heading back towards the door you entered through. Just as you were about to place your hand on the large handle and push it open, you stopped. Steve, who had been watching as you walked away, felt that dreaded sense of hope again, the one he felt so often when you were near.

“What time do you get done here?” Steve’s eyebrows raised, taken aback by your question. His mouth opened, fumbling for words as he checked his watch.

“Thirty-two minutes. Why?” you chuckled at his sudden nervousness. Maybe he really had come a long way from his days as King Steve. King Steve never would’ve struggled like this when talking to a girl.

“Do you want to watch this with me?” you held up the bag that housed the Ferris Bueller VHS, extending an olive branch. Steve’s response was immediate like he didn’t even need to think about it.

“Yes,” it was a simple answer, but you just nodded in return, a shy smile creasing the corners of your mouth. “We can watch it at my place. My TV is bigger,” Steve smirked, regaining his charming and flirty tone, the one you’d gotten so familiar with as a result of all the teasing. You rolled your eyes at the innuendo, smile still cresting your lips, and pushed your way through the exit.

“Whatever you say, Harrington,” you called out behind you, repeating the same words from earlier. Steve laughed, watching your retreating figure, the sway of your hips, and the swell of your ass. He looked at his watch again, still displaying the same time as when he had checked just moments before. Steve groaned into his hands. This was going to be the longest thirty-two minutes of his life. 

You were enveloped in a book, sitting on your window bench when a light tap sounded off next to you. Thinking it was just the old house creaking or something, you ignored it, eyes scanning the next page. That’s when it happened again, and again, and again. You pulled back your curtains and flung open the window only to narrowly avoid getting smacked in the face by a pebble.

“Shit, sorry,” Steve swore, his cheeks turning red with guilt and embarrassment. He was standing below your window, pebbles spilling out of his hand. A week or two ago, hell maybe even a few days ago, you would’ve gone off on him, screaming about nearly hurting you and potentially damaging your window. But now, you just smiled, taking in the sight of the boy next door. Only Steve Harrington could make a romantic gesture nearly turn into a trip to the hospital. “I tried to leave you a message, but your curtains were closed,” you glanced over to his window, spotting the piece of loose leaf taped to it with the words ‘come over?’ scrawled in black ink.

“Give me two seconds,” you pulled your head back inside, closing the window behind you. As you did, a few of the army men on your window sill fell on their sides, no longer facing the window across the gap between two houses. Snagging the video tape from your desk, you ran down the steps, stopping in front of the mirror hung up in the hallway. Why did you suddenly care how your hair looked around Steve? Brushing off the thought, you continued, opening the front door to be met by the boy next door. 

“Ready?” he asked and you nodded, following as he turned towards his house. You walked closely behind him, catching a whiff of hairspray, lavender, and cologne. Steve led you to the rec room in the basement, which housed the largest television in the Harrington residence. You handed him the tape and he slid it into the VCR before settling on the couch, a good two feet from where you sat. Neither of you mentioned the distance, just watching the movie and laughing at Ferris’ goofy antics.

As the movie progressed a chill ran through you, goosebumps prickling your skin. The Harrington’s seemingly liked to keep their basement ice cold. Steve noticed and pulled down the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. He laid it on his lap, extending the end of it towards you. You accepted his silent invitation, closing the gap and sitting close with the blanket wrapped around the two of you. The rest of the movie was spent that way, thighs brushing against one another when either of you moved.

When the credits finally ended, with Ferris Bueller in his bathrobe disappearing from the screen one last time, you felt at ease. You hadn’t expected to feel so comfortable with Steve, but it was almost a relief that you managed to get through a whole movie without wanting to kill him.

“That was so good. Robin was totally right, I loved it. I'm basically Ferris Bueller so it makes sense I guess,” Steve shrugged and you couldn’t hold back the laugh that bloomed from your lips at his comment. Steve turned to look at you, a brow arched in confusion at your humor. “What?” he asked bluntly, a hint of amusement on his face.

“You would think that you’re Ferris,” you spoke, looking smug. Steve's lips stretched into a daring grin, curiosity getting the best of him.

“Okay, if I’m not Ferris then who am I?” Steve leaned in close and you rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder.

“It’s so obvious that you’re Cameron. Sure, the people that don’t know you that well might think you’re Ferris, but I know you Steve Harrington, and you’re Cameron fully and completely,” your grin widened with Steve’s look of exasperation. His hand flew to his chest in mock offense.

“What the hell makes me Cameron?” his words still had the air of joviality behind them despite his faux wounded front. The corner of your lips faltered then, suddenly reluctant to divulge more about your characterization of the boy before you. You didn’t want to tell him what he already knew, that he and Cameron shared a strained relationship with their fathers, both all too afraid of disappointing the men who raised them. That up until recently both boys took all the shit that their fathers gave them, too freighted to stand up to them. You didn’t want to say any of it, which was fine because Steve already knew. From the second Cameron appeared on the screen, the voice in the back of Steve’s head pointed out each similarity that they shared. Silence settled over the two of you, smiles fading in the quiet room.

“If it makes you feel better,” you began, voice small and fingers fidgeting on your lap. Steve wanted to reach over and grab them, encase your fingers with his, but he restrained himself. “Cameron was my favorite character in the movie,” you nodded towards the TV screen that now reflected a blank blue shadow over the pair of you. Steve observed your bashful demeanor, thinking about how cute you looked when you got all shy. 

“You would definitely be Jeanie,” Steve asserted, breaking through the uncomfortable quiet. Your jaw dropped at the comparison and the smile returned to Steve’s lips at your reaction.

“Ferris’s bitchy sister?” Steve nodded and you shoved him again. He righted himself, continuing to make his point.

“I mean, come on, it’s so obvious,” Steve repeated your words from earlier and you shook your head. “You’re both a little crazy in a hot way. Not to mention you both go for bad boys,” you glared at Steve, but he could tell you weren’t actually mad.

“I’m not into bad boys, asshole,” you defended and Steve’s smirk grew, his rebuttal already concocted in his head.

“Oh really? So it wasn’t you that hooked up with Billy Hargrove at Tina’s Halloween party two years ago?” your jaw dropped again, and Steve’s snickering filled the air. He reached over, pressing your chin up to close your mouth. You brushed his hand off of you in confusion.

“How the hell do you know about that?” you asked, confusion and curiosity coursing through your thoughts. “Did Eddie tell you? I swear to god I’m never telling him anything ever again,” you crossed your arms, waiting for Steve to talk.

“Hargrove used to brag about it to me and try to rub it in my face,” Steve informed you and your face wrinkled, filled with questions. “I guess he thought that it would make me mad since you and I used to be friends or whatever,” Steve shrugged, no longer smiling. He watched you, unsure how you would react to his explanation. 

“Did it?” you questioned, and Steve shrugged again. He didn’t want to tell you that it did, that it took every fiber of his being to restrain himself from punching the blond boy’s stupid face.

“A little,” Steve lied and another silence fell over the room, but it wasn’t as tense this time. Steve waited a moment before speaking again, watching the way you avoided his gaze. “Why’d you even hook up with him? I thought you hated him,” Steve’s voice was quiet, unwilling to break through the low noise barrier that settled between you.

“You stole my copy of Pride and Prejudice,” you let out a sigh, gaze shifting to your hands that rested in your lap again. Steve’s brow furrowed, confused about the correlation between his question and your response. “It was the copy my grandma gave me when I was 11. I had notes in the margins on just about every page. You took it from my bag in homeroom the day before the party and refused to give it back,” Steve knew what you were talking about. He couldn’t remember why he took it, but he knew that he still had it, tucked away in his closet, in a spot that only he could find.

“But what does that have to do with Billy?” Steve still didn’t understand. Your hands ran over your face as you let out a sigh.

“You hated him and he hated you. I figured the enemy of my enemy was my friend, which wasn’t true by the way. I was super pissed about the book and a little tipsy. I needed to blow off some steam, so one thing led to another and we hooked up in his car after the party,” you were ashamed of it, regret filling you the second it was over. “I didn’t know that he was such a douchebag when it happened. If I had known how badly he treated Max and Lucas then I never would’ve done it,” you explained, still unable to meet Steve’s gaze, embarrassed by your past. Steve’s hand extended, tilting your chin with his finger, allowing your eyes to finally meet his.

“I shouldn't have taken your book, Baby,” Steve whispered and you gave him a soft smile in return. The nickname rang through the air and reverberated off the walls. Hearing it didn’t bother you for some reason. For the first time in years, the word didn’t sting as it fell from Steve’s lips. Maybe the tide finally turned, the war nearly over. It gave you a sense of courage, making you brave enough to let your next question out in the open.

“When Billy bragged about it, what did he say?” Steve was taken aback, wondering why you would want to know. Billy’s words were far from nice, if anything they were disrespectful and an invasion of privacy. But the way you looked at Steve now told him that you genuinely wanted to know, needed to know.

“It was really depraved stuff, like how your body felt against him,” Steve started and you nodded, motioning with your hands for him to continue. “He said you would start to breathe heavily when he kissed your neck. That you did this thing with your tongue when you kissed that felt insanely good. He said you moaned his name like it was made just for you to say it. That your thighs shook when you…” Steve trailed off, face flushed and unwilling to finish his sentence. He had started speaking slower with each sentence, despite the racing of his heart. The tension floated thick in the air, crowding the room and making it way too hot for the blanket draped over your lap. Steve wasn’t sure when his hand had dropped to your lap, brushing between your legs from over the blanket.

Your eyes were glued to Steve’s, unaware of the distance that disappeared between you with each passing second. His breath mingled with yours, tingling against your skin. Your tongue darted out, bringing moisture to your dry lips. The heat between your thighs ached to be relieved, wishing Steve’s hand would travel higher up your thigh as his jeans tightened at the sight of your gaze alone. The blue from the TV screen that coated the room disappeared as your eyes fluttered shut. Both sets of lips were centimeters from meeting in the middle when the VCR popped out the tape, landing with a loud smack on the ground. Steve had leaned on the remote while moving closer toward you, accidentally pressing the eject button. He knew he needed to fix the VCR, worried about its tendency to spit out tapes rather than the slow half push it was supposed to do, but he’d put it off, too tired after a long day of work. You broke apart at the sound, creating more distance as you moved the blanket from your legs and scrambled back, Steve’s hand falling into the now empty space. Neither of you could look up at the other.

“I wish we stayed friends when we were in middle school,” Steve said after a long span of silence. He never wanted to be your enemy, never wanted to drive you into the arms of an undeserving man. Your eyes met then, his were glassy, which was something you hadn’t expected. 

“Yeah, me too,” your voice was small but sure, words speaking nothing but the truth. You didn’t remind him why you weren’t, something you would’ve done a week ago. Instead, you sat in agreement, pondering how different your life would be.

“I wonder what would've changed,” he spoke. It was soft, almost a whisper, and you longed to be close to him again. To feel his words fan across your lips instead of the empty space beside you. “If I would’ve been friends with Tommy, if I would’ve dated Nancy, if we’d be off at a college somewhere instead of this shithole town,” Steve was louder now, melancholy mixed with underlying anger. Even if you were finally able to be friends now, Steve couldn’t help but think about the time he missed out on with you and all the other lingering what-ifs. 

“We could still get out one day. Leave the teen angst and trauma behind,” you sounded normal again, reassuring to Steve’s overactive thoughts. “Maybe we could go together,” Steve’s heart leaped out of his chest at your words, but he reeled it back in. It was still new, being able to talk without words slicing into the other’s skin. You looked at him with anticipatory eyes, awaiting his response.

“Just give me the signal Baby and we can be out of here before sunrise,” Steve extended his hand, this was a deal to shake on, a long-term agreement that one day you’d run away together. You grinned, accepting his outstretched hand, wondering about where you’d go. Considering if you were in love with Steve Harrington, if you always had been. Dying to know if he was in love with you too.

A friend to all is a friend to none 

           Autumn had officially begun, a chill in the air that persuaded the orange leaves to tumble from the trees. It was your favorite time of year, though you couldn’t help the twinge of sadness that swelled in your heart at the thought of leaving the warm summer sun behind. Eddie insisted that you come to visit him at work, his desperation ringing out through the static of the phone. After a few minutes of groveling, you caved and agreed to go, which is how you ended up banished to the backseat of Steve’s car on the way to the record store on main street. Robin had called shotgun, but you didn’t mind, having the entire backseat to yourself and stretching out your legs. Steve’s car smelled like pine trees and leather, hairspray and cologne, as it rolled along the pavement. 

Steve pulled up to a parking spot in front of the record store, placing his hand on the passenger seat headrest as he threw the car in reverse. He turned his head towards the car’s rear, watching carefully as he backed into a spot, shooting you a wink before he faced the front again. You couldn’t help the warmth that spread over your cheeks, feeling like a bumbling schoolgirl with a crush. Ever since your movie night, your almost kiss, things had been different with Steve. Sure, there was still some teasing and the typical dirty innuendos, but it didn’t sting the way it used to. It didn’t evolve into slammed windows and drawn curtains, loud arguments and bruised egos. Something new coursed through your veins, your heart beating just to hear the sound of his voice. It was scary, the rush of feelings that you’d seemingly repressed for years, hidden under what you thought was hate. 

“You coming or what?” Robin leaned back into Steve’s car to face you. The thoughts of Steve had distracted you and you only now noticed that they had already exited the car. You followed suit, unbuckling and sliding across the seat to get out on Steve’s side. He greeted you with an arm slung around your shoulder, purposely messing up your hair in the process. You swatted at him, smoothing your hair back down as you walked through the store’s entrance together. Music wafted down from the speakers that littered the ceiling and you instantly knew that Eddie had picked out whatever metal song was playing. As if he could hear the mention of his name in your thoughts, Eddie appeared in front of you, grabbing ahold of your wrist and dragging you towards the front counter. Meanwhile, Robin and Steve headed towards the back, searching for some Abba vinyl that Steve had been wanting for ages. The absence of Steve’s arm around your shoulder left you with a chill, the tingle brought on by his touch subsiding, but you brushed it aside following the long-haired boy. 

You went behind the counter with Eddie, hopping up to sit in the space between the cash register and the pile of records stacked to the left. It was a familiar spot for you, somewhere you’d sat a million times, much to Eddie’s manager’s dismay. In this spot, you’d talk about dates that you went on, someone from high school who got knocked up or married, a new song Eddie was working on, and your hatred for Steve Harrington. But this time was different. Eddie remained silent as you perched before him, crossing his arms over his chest and peering at you with knowing eyes. He came to stand in front of you, his stomach brushing against your knees. You glared at him in response, already knowing the words that were about to crest his lips.

“You and Harrington have been awfully close lately,” a smirk danced across his face, arms uncrossing, hands landing to rest on your knees. You narrowed your eyes, placing your hands behind you, and leaning back on them.

“We’re sort of friends now, I guess,” you shrugged and Eddie leaned in even closer, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead as if he was testing your temperature. You smacked his hand away, earning a yelp in response. The grin reappeared on Eddie’s lips as he shook his hand to alleviate the pain caused by your slap. 

“Friends, huh?” you nodded as his question, eyeing Eddie for his next move. Someone entered the store, the chime of the bell over the door alerting the both of you. But the two of you didn’t flinch, didn’t even spare the new customer a glance, too enveloped in your weird standoff staring contest. Instead, Eddie called out his standard greeting, welcoming the person to Rad Records, as his eyes roamed over you, searching for an unspecified answer. “Just friends, nothing more?” Eddie finally continued, needing more evidence to make his case, to find the answer to his unasked question. And you gave it to him, eyes darting away from his and legs beginning to bounce. Eddie’s jaw dropped, a gasp seeping from the open space between his lips.

“Shut the fuck up, Edward,” you rushed out, clamping your hand over his slack jaw. Eddie’s wide eyes trailed from you to Steve and back. His lips moved behind your hand, trying to speak, but you shushed him, refusing to let go until he calmed down. You cringed at the swipe of his tongue against your palm, but still held on tight. After a few seconds, Eddie stopped and you took it as a sign to set him free. Your hand retracted, falling limply onto your lap, where you wiped his saliva onto your jeans.

“Holy shit. You like him. You actually, consciously, like him,” Eddie whisper-yelled at you and it took a considerable amount of effort to not spontaneously combust at his words. It’s one thing to finally admit it to yourself, it’s another to hear it spoken out loud. Still, you felt like there was a ritual you had to play along with, like you had to deny the accusation.

“I so do not,” you spoke stubbornly, but Eddie could hear the give in your voice, knowing the truth.

“You totally do. The fact that it’s taken you this long to realize is insane,” Robin spoke up from behind you, startling you with her sudden appearance. You looked beside her, expecting to see Steve, but he wasn’t there. You didn’t know whether to be sad or relieved by his absence from the conversation.

“Where is Steve anyway?” you shifted on the counter, making space for Robin to rest her elbows next to you. Robin nodded towards the back of the store. Steve’s figure was obscured by the towering displays that littered the room.

“Some guy that he knew from the basketball team came in and started talking to him. Steve called him Jumpy or something. I dipped out as soon as I could, so Steve’s stuck back there now,” you cringed at the name that fell from Robin’s lips. Jumpy was the dumbass nickname of Allen Peterson, some douchebag that was friends with Tommy.

“Ugh, he and Tommy once broke into the girl’s locker room during gym and stole my clothes. I had to walk around in my gym uniform for the rest of the day. It was humiliating,” a frown bloomed on your lips, one that was echoed by Eddie and Robin. 

“I remember that. They somehow never got caught,” Eddie’s eyes trailed to the back of the store, still unable to spot Steve. “You want me to kick him out?” Eddie’s eyebrows raised in question, almost begging for the chance to kick someone out of the store. But you shook your head, tapping his shoulder so he’d move out of the way. He did, stepping to the side, allowing you to slide down from the glass counter.

“I want to see if he remembers me. Maybe mess with him a bit,” Eddie and Robin waved you off as you walked towards the back, the top of Steve’s perfectly styled hair coming into view as you got closer. You approached from behind Steve, not able to get a good view of his face. You were still hidden, questioning whether you should continue with your plan or not. Wondering if Allen would do something to upset you, tease you, and make you feel small. But Steve was there, and how could he hurt you when the boy you loved was standing by your side? Just as you were about to take a step out, you heard something, Allen’s voice. 

“Dude, I can’t believe you’ve been hanging out with such losers,” Allen’s words elicited a soft scoff from your lips. He peaked in high school but here he was calling you a loser? You wished you could see Steve’s face, to know what was running through his mind, the witty comeback that was sure to leave his lips any second now. But it didn’t. All you heard was the smooth sound of his laugh dancing through the store.

“Come on, man. They’re not that bad,” you brushed off Steve’s weak, delayed defense. At least he stood up for you in some regard, that’s what matters.

“Nah man, that Baby chick is nuts. I remember how weird she was in high school, always crying over something. Sometimes I just wanted to bend her over and give her something to cry about, you know?” Allen mimed thrusting his hips as his words hung in the air. It made you feel dirty and violated, like he had already touched you in the way he said that he wanted to. The boy viewed you as an object, nothing more than something to be used to satisfy his needs. Your eyes bore into the back of Steve’s head, willing him to speak up on your behalf. To defend you, to protect you, to punch this asshole in the face. But Steve was never good at defending you and all he did was laugh again. That irritatingly coy laugh, the one that set off alarm bells whenever you heard it. The laugh that belonged to the reigning king, not the boy you loved.

“Oh yeah, totally. One good screw would straighten her right out,” at that moment you could’ve sworn that the entire town could hear your heart as it shattered. You weren’t really sure when you revealed yourself from your hiding spot behind the bookshelf, but your eyes locked with Allen’s, and his stupid smirk dropped. Steve tracked his gaze, spinning on his heels to see you, tears welling in the corners of your eyes, forehead creased, and red-hot anger coursing through you. You turned, moving as fast as you could towards the exit at the front of the store. Steve chased behind you, his hand catching your arm right after you passed through the door. Eddie and Robin looked alarmed at the sight of you both stopped before the store’s glass front.

“Let go of me,” you spoke hotly, cursing the strength of Steve’s grip. Steve’s eyes roamed over you, catching the flicker of hurt that flashed across your face before you restored it to its angry glare. 

“I didn’t mean it. It’s just-” Steve began, but you quickly cut him off, still trying to wrangle your arm from his grasp.

“I don’t give a shit what you meant, Harrington. I thought you changed. I forgave you for all the shit you put me through. Guess I wrong to think you were capable of being a decent person,” Steve’s eyes watered at your words, hating himself for making you doubt him and how he feels for you.

“I have changed. I don’t know why I said that shit,” Steve pleaded, he wanted you to understand, to give him five minutes to explain himself. But Steve knew this was it, you’d already made your decision, it wouldn’t matter even if he got down on his knees and begged. He’d broken your trust, said shit he didn’t mean, and now he’d lost you again, the same way he did years before, the way he never wanted to again. Steve let go of your arm, giving you the freedom you asked for when you first left the record store with him in tow. Your arm felt numb, empty, without Steve’s hand there, and you cursed your stupid heart for not wanting him to let go.

“I guess old habits die hard, Harrington. Stay the fuck out of my life,” your words spat from deep within you, fire coating each syllable. Steve watched as you turned, making your way down the sidewalk and turning into an alleyway between two stores. Eddie and Robin burst through the record store’s entrance, ignoring the autumn chill that they were greeted with as they did. Steve wiped his eyes, glad to have tears clouding his vision because he was not sure he could stand to see his best friend's face as he recounted the past few minutes to her. Eddie looked to Steve, silently asking where you went, and Steve lifted his hand pointing in your direction. Eddie took off, turning the corner to the alley to find you slumped on the ground, knees to your chest and head in your hands. He approached you slowly, pulling you into him when he finally got close enough. Sobs racked your body, chest heaving against Eddie’s as he held you in a tight hug, knees resting on the cement below. 

“I hate him, Eds. I fucking hate him,” Eddie nodded in understanding, stroking your hair and pulling it from where it stuck to your tear-stained cheeks. “I should’ve known he’d break my heart again. I should’ve known not to let myself fall in love with him,” your tears soaked Eddie’s shirt and he froze, stuck on the words that fell from your lips. Love. Sure, he’d known you liked Steve, but love was different. Love meant more hurt. It held more weight. It meant that you set aside the past and moved on. It meant you finally gave in to the feelings that gnawed at your heart and your brain each night. It meant that Steve really fucked up.

Chasing shadows in the grocery line

           Steve’s car finally peeled away and flew down main street, signaling to Eddie that the coast was clear. He walked you back to the now barren record store, save for his co-worker Terry, who was in the back unpacking a new shipment. Eddie asked Terry to cover for him and when Terry saw your tear-stained cheeks and red puffy eyes, he agreed, no questions asked. So Eddie put you in the passenger seat of his van and sped off down the road. You didn’t ask where he was going when he passed the street that led to your house, already knowing where he was taking you. 

           Eddie’s van stopped abruptly in front of his trailer. Wayne’s car was gone, signaling that he’d already left for work, leaving the trailer empty. It was getting dark, gloomy clouds blocking the sun as the moon rose in the sky opposite it. The porch lights flickered on, illuminating the shadows of your face through the cracked windshield. You caught sight of Lucas’ bike through the back window. It was lying on its side outside of Max’s trailer, thrown in haste. Normally it would’ve made you laugh, elicit a joke about young lovebirds to fall from your lips, but right now you couldn’t even will the corners of your lips to curl into a faint smile. 

Eddie opened your car door, gently lifting you by your waist and placing you on the ground. You followed him inside, trailing behind him like a lost, heartbroken puppy with nowhere else to go. He led you to his room, indicating for you to sit on his bed, so you did. Eddie placed a soft kiss on your forehead, the kind a mother gives her child, and lifted your arms. He disrobed you of your heavy knit sweater, your way of protecting yourself from the autumn winds that pierced the air, and replaced it with one of his Black Sabbath shirts. You unclipped your bra through the shirt, pulling it out of your sleeve before tossing it to the floor. The action always amazed Eddie, drawing a laugh from his lips, but this time he remained quiet, too concerned over you to pay attention to much else. Next, Eddie unlaced your shoes, pulling them from your feet. You shimmied from your pants after, throwing them across the room, uncaring where they landed. 

With a shaky breath, you laid down, facing the wall, your back turned to Eddie. Eddie pulled off his leather jacket, shucked off his jeans, and moved towards the bed. The mattress dipped beside you, Eddie’s body now close to yours. He pulled the bed sheets up to cover you both before draping his arm across your torso. You relaxed into him a bit, fingers and legs intertwining with one another. It was a familiar position, one you and Eddie had shared a million times, but his comforting touch wasn’t working quite the same as it normally did. Not when your heart hurt this much.

Eddie wanted to ask what happened, pester you with questions, and uncover the truth, but he refrained, knowing you’d speak up when the time was right. His heart ached at the feel of your body shaking against his, small sobs springing from deep within your chest no matter how much you wanted them to stop. Eddie only held you tighter, his arms practically crushing your ribs as his own tears began to well in his eyes. You stayed like that for a while, long after the sun fully sank beneath the horizon, leaving the room in complete consuming darkness. The wind caused sapling branches to scrape against the window, becoming the only sound to fill the lingering silence. You stopped crying after a while, wishing you could sleep the pain away, but remaining unsuccessful in your attempts. 

Finally, you gave up, shifting to face Eddie, your forehead pressed to his. Breath intermingling, comforting you, letting you know that, yes, your heart may be broken, but you were still alive. Eddie studied you, unsure whether he should be the first to speak or not, but you quickly quelled that thought when you opened your mouth.

“Do you think you’ll ever leave Hawkins?” your question threw Eddie off, his brows scrunching in confusion. It’s not what he expected you to say. 

“Not unless the band takes off, and certainly not without Wayne,” Eddie had thought about it before, considered moving to a big city where the lights never dimmed and the gigs would never end. But as much as Hawkins may have hated him, he could never hate it in return. He’d get sick of the city noise and never be able to sleep, craving to hear the chirp of crickets and cicadas instead. So when you asked, he was sure of his answer. But he didn’t echo your question back to you, already knowing that your answer would be a resounding yes. It would be tough for you to leave everyone behind, but you longed for something different, somewhere new to help escape the past and finally look forward to the future. Eddie was lost in thought, still wondering why you asked that when you spoke again.

“He’s exactly who I thought he was,” it was a whisper, one that could easily be lost, left hanging in the air with no one around to hear it echo off the peeling walls. But Eddie heard it, he absorbed your words from the silent room, wanting to know more, so you continued. “I thought he was different now, but it turns out he’s still the same, too wrapped up in caring about what others think,” fresh tears sprang in your eyes, a sob tightening your throat as you spoke. “I’m tired of fighting against his undying need to be liked. I’m tired of losing against it every goddamn time. I’m done,” there was a finality to your tone, one that caused Eddie to lift his head from his pillow, a questioning look on his face.

“Sweetheart, do you want me to talk to him? Figure out what’s running through his head?” Eddie offered, but he knew the gesture would be wasted on you. Once you set your mind to it, it was done. But he wanted you to hear Steve out. He wanted you to find a way to reconcile your differences. For all the pain and confusion that Steve Harrington brought, he also filled you with joy and light. You’d been happier throughout the past few weeks than Eddie had ever seen you, illuminating rooms simply by entering them. Eddie didn’t want that to disappear, to be forever obscured by a compilation of closed curtains and avoidant gazes. But he was met with a furious shake of your head.

“No, Eds. I mean it. No more Steve,” Eddie nodded despite the voice in his head yelling at him to speak up and try to change your mind. It was no use. He rolled onto his back, one arm resting under his head, the other still laid across you. You shifted too, laying with your chest pressed to Eddie’s stomach, head resting just below his. “I wish it was you that I loved. It’d be much simpler that way,” you’re not sure why you said it, maybe the cloud that formed in your head from the day’s events expanded, spilling all of your hazy thoughts through your lips. It was a sad wish, an empty hurt with truth behind it. But Eddie understood, his own thoughts reflecting yours, the telepathy finally working in a way. He wanted to take away your pain in any way he could, but not like this. Not when your heart was beaten black and blue, longing for a simple ceasefire to mend your open wounds. Not when that same heart belonged to another, an echoed call through the woods waiting for the birds in the treetops to sing back with an affirmative answer. Eddie loved you, but not in the way the both of you currently wished for. An irrefutable loyalty that would consciously be limited to platonic fellowship, no romance lingering from either party in the way you held each other close.

“I’m sorry, Baby,” Eddie’s whisper slid through the strands of your hair, a soft kiss placed overtop of it. You’d grown quiet by then, breath evening out as you were finally granted your wish for sleep. Falling deep into a slumber where you were still five and Steve Harrington tucked flowers behind your ears as he whispered to you about love.

Days had passed, an endless stream of the same heartache and emptiness that blended each rise and fall of the sun together, making it difficult to distinguish one from the next. Robin called you probably a million times, but you refused to come to the phone. Your parents opted to unplug the phone from the wall for a few days, growing tired of the incessant ringing. You knew she just wanted to talk about Steve, but that was something you couldn’t quite handle yet. You’d only plugged the phone back in to call out of work, letting them know you had a nasty stomach bug, not caring if they believed you or not. The curtains in your room remained closed with the little army men on the window sill replaced in their defensive stance. To you, this was war. 

On the fifth day of refusing to depart from beneath your bed sheets, your mom entered your room, messing with the knick-knacks that covered your dresser as she did. A custom D20 from Dustin, a kazoo Eddie gave you for your birthday one year joking about how you could be Corroded Coffin’s lead kazoo player, a mixtape Robin lent you ages ago, a new pack of colored pencils you’d been meaning to give to Will, and a flower that had been dried and pressed into a glittery bookmark, all littered your dresser’s surface. Your mom grabbed the bookmark, admiring the way the lavender flower retained its shape despite being flattened so many years ago. It was the same lavender that grew from the ground beneath your bedroom window, decorating the grass between the Harrington’s house and your own. You watched closely as she eyed the bookmark, curiosity flooding your thoughts. 

“I remember making this with you,” she spoke softly, a gentle cadence meant to comfort you, and it sort of did. “You came running inside with the flower and insisted that we save it. You said it was too important to let die,” she sat on the edge of your bed, bookmark still glinting in the soft glow of the lamplight. You propped yourself up on your elbows, wondering where she was going with all of this. She handed you the bookmark then, and you took it, confused, examining it as if you’d never seen it before. 

“I don’t remember that,” your voice was hoarse from crying. It didn’t help that you hadn’t properly spoken out loud in days, too congested with the bustling thoughts running laps around your mind.

“You were five. And if I remember correctly a certain boy had been the one to pick the flower for you,” you understood then, she was talking about Steve. Part of you felt betrayed, like your mother was providing aid for the enemy, but the other part of you wanted to know more, why she wanted to talk about this, especially now. “We always assumed the two of you would be friends, lovers even,” she wagged her eyebrows at you and the corners of your lips ticked up at the gesture. “So it was strange to see the distance that grew between you, the pain you caused each other. I’d always hoped you’d resolve your differences, and fall back into the same ease you had as kids, but I know it’s more complicated than that,” her hand reached up, brushing softly against your cheek. You hadn’t realized that you were crying until her fingers swiped over the fallen tears. “I love you, my Baby,” her words were a whisper, gentle lips pressed to your forehead. She patted your leg through your comforter, standing up as she did. On her way to the door, she stopped, turning back to look at you. “Maybe some fresh air might help. A trip to the store?” she suggested and for some reason you nodded, actually thinking that it would be nice to leave your bed for a bit. She smiled, making her way out of your room to grab the grocery list for you. As she rounded the corner, one foot out the door, she couldn’t help but notice the tight grip you kept on the bookmark in your hand. The flower within it that was always in bloom. Something that could never die.

You opted to go to the store alone, wanting to drive with the windows down and the music up, drowning out the overcrowded space in your head. It was nice to leave the house, to be in an open space with autumn in the air. The crisp leaves crunched under your tires as you pulled into the grocery parking lot. You were so concerned about making sure that you had the list your mom gave you that you completely missed the maroon BMW parked on the opposite end of the lot. Once you had the list, you grabbed a cart, its wheels squeaking loudly as you made your way down aisles, grabbing item after item off the shelves.

There was only one thing left on your list, a bag of tortilla chips, which was your dad’s favorite snack food for some odd reason. You almost chuckled to yourself seeing how his scratchy handwriting interrupted your mom’s pristine list. With a squeal of protest from the shopping cart’s wheels, you turned the corner, eyes roaming over the chip options in front of you. You finally found what you were looking for and stood up on your tiptoes, the top shelf being just a bit too high for you to reach. A warmth washed over you as someone leaned into your space, large hands retrieving the bag and offering it to you. Your breath stopped for a moment and you found yourself unable to move.

“I’m just gonna put these in here then,” Steve spoke softly, placing the chip bag into your cart when you froze. He looked tired, with dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. His hair was flat, almost greasy looking, lacking his usual abundance of hairspray and product. Steve watched you, the way you shrunk at the sight of him and he felt as though his heart had been torn from his chest. He never wanted to hurt you, to make you feel less than what you were. And to Steve, you were everything. Steve opened his mouth to speak, an apology sputtering from his lips, but the sight snapped you out of your stupor, suddenly springing to action.

“I told you to stop apologizing to me,” your voice was firm and cold, nothing like the ease it held back at Family Video the last time he tried to right his wrongs. 

“Just let me explain, please,” he pleaded, eyes soft, a glimmer of familiarity in them. For a moment you almost let him, finding yourself more than willing to listen to the boy speak. You were reminded of the comfort you found in the sound of his voice recently, the swell it brought to your chest. But that vanished when you remembered the way he laughed when talking to Allen, his vile words leaving your glass heart shattered across the record store’s stained carpet. It felt like a slap to the face, a cut on your cheek, a crack in your rib. You meant what you said, you were done with him. The boy before you showed no growth. He was still the same boy who called you names, taunted you in the halls, stole your favorite book, and scared off the boys you liked. 

“No,” it was stony and resolute, an end to the conversation. You pushed your cart away, leaving Steve behind, your shadow cascading over him as you did. You made your way to the register and Steve followed close behind. He got in line behind you, but he stayed quiet, unsure what to say. He only had two things in his basket, which made his checkout go by quickly. By the time he got out to the parking lot, you were still there, placing the hefty grocery bags into your trunk.

“Let me make it up to you,” Steve startled you, appearing at your side out of nowhere. “I swear I've changed, I promise. I care about you, so much,” you slammed your trunk closed, wheeling your cart back to where it belonged. Steve followed you, but you stayed silent, refusing to acknowledge his pleas. He stood in front of your car door then, blocking it so you couldn’t get in. “I don’t want to lose you again. Let me show you I care. Let me prove it,” he looked like he was on the verge of tears. Part of you wanted to reach out and hold his face in your hands. The other part wanted to hurt him more, make him feel what you felt. The latter won. 

“You can’t prove shit to me, Harrington. I don’t believe it, any of it. You’re still the same stupid boy you were when we were 11, and I fucking hate you for it,” you spat and Steve’s face hardened. You wanted him to yell back at you, to prove that he felt something for you, something worth fighting for. But he didn’t. He simply stepped aside, a new slump in his posture as he let you go. His gaze followed the battered silhouette of your car as it drove off, a wisp of fallen leaves and Steve’s shredded heart trailing behind it.

When you got home you stormed inside, leaving the groceries in the car for your parents to unload. You fell back into your bed, resuming the same position you held before you went to the grocery store. It took some time, anger encapsulating your every fiber, but eventually, you fell asleep, putting the situation with Steve aside as you escaped to the peace of your dreams. 

You awoke the next morning, groggy and sore. Rolling onto your back, you caught a glimpse of something from the corner of your eye, something that was out of place. Your body groaned as you arose, hesitant steps towards your desk, hands slowly lifting the object. It was a book, but not just any book. It was Pride and Prejudice, the copy that your grandmother gave you years ago, the one that was taken from you. You flipped through the pages, fingers tracing the words you’d penciled in on the margins. Stuck between its pages was a bookmark, your bookmark, with lavender and specks of glitter decorating it. 

You sat back on your bed, wondering why the book was returned so suddenly and out of the blue. Your mom was the one to put it in your room, marking its pages with the bookmark, but Steve had been the one to take it years ago. Why did he keep it? Why give it back now? Was this the end? A bookend in your tumultuous relationship with the boy next door? A post-it note fell from between the book’s pages and you leaned down to grab it. Written in Steve’s messy scrawl was one word. 

“Please.”

And you’d come back to me

           The note was metaphorically stuck in your head, lingering like a bad dream that you couldn’t wake from. It didn’t help that it was physically stuck to your nightstand, its fluorescent green shade haunting you with each passing glance. But you just couldn’t will yourself to throw it away. It was a life preserver tossed to you after falling overboard, a worm on a hook meant to reel you in, a last attempt to fix what had been broken, to reconcile with Steve. You meant it when you said you were done, but the ache inside you longed to be quelled. And there was only one person that could do that. The least you could do was hear him out. Find closure, nothing more, or so you told yourself. 

A few days had passed since your encounter at the grocery store and you finally felt brave enough to face Steve again. You knew he was home given that his car had scarcely left the driveway in the past few days. Your legs felt wobbly, knees knocking as you marched in the dark through your lawn, crossing over onto the Harrington’s property. It was late, but you knew he’d still be awake, just as plagued with his thoughts as you were. You jabbed the doorbell with your finger, waiting nervously for the door to open, to see the boy that plagued your thoughts. But it didn’t. So you rang it again, and again, and again. Repeatedly pressing the button until the door finally cracked open.

“I don’t want whatever you’re selling, man,” Steve began but stopped when he saw you, straightening his slumped shoulders. He looked worse than he had at the grocery store like he hadn’t slept in days. He let the door hang open as he gaped at you, unable to form words. You took advantage of the open space, slipping inside his house before he could stop you. Steve shut the door, turning to see what you were doing, but you’d already made your way upstairs to his room. 

His room was pretty much the same as it had been the last time you were there, back when the world almost ended. Clothes strewn across the floor, trophies lining small shelves, movie posters galore. You noticed a new poster though, one for Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Steve finally caught up to you, his perpetual gloominess temporarily taken over by confusion as to why you were suddenly here in his house. You sat on the edge of his bed and he followed suit, worry filling his entire being. Was this the end? Did you come to say goodbye? Steve’s heart beat rapidly in his chest, panic rising in his throat when you finally spoke.

“You said you wanted to explain, so explain,” your voice was soft and quiet, a tone completely unlike the one you used when you were mad. Steve was baffled, wanting to know what made you decide to hear him out, but he knew better than to waste what very well could be his last chance with you.

“I didn’t mean what I said in the record store. I didn’t mean any of it. I wanted to beat the shit out of Allen when he said that stuff,” Steve’s hands shook as he spoke, watching your face for any sign of emotion. He wanted to know what you were thinking, wished he could read your mind. But he couldn’t, so he continued. “It’s like every time I’m around someone from high school, I get pushed aside and someone else takes control of what I say. Someone that reminds me a lot of my father,” angry tears welled in Steve’s eyes. He hated that after all these years his dad still had such an impact on him and the way he acted.

“Steve,” you spoke up, still emotionless in your tone. But Steve stopped you, wanting to continue, practically begging you with his glassy eyes to let him. So you did.

“I know it's not an excuse, and it's so so shitty of me. But he’s just there in the back of my head reminding me that Harrington’s are winners,” a tear dripped down his cheek and it took a great deal of restraint from you to not reach out and brush it away. “I hate that I let him win. I hate that I ever betrayed your trust, that I was so mean to you in school, that I let you out of my life. I hate that I let Allen get away with what he said, that I agreed with him instead, because I don’t. I think you’re beyond perfect the way you are. I don’t want to change anything about you,” Steve stopped for a moment unsure if you’d let him continue. Little did he know that your breath had caught in your chest and extinguished any words that might have spilled from your lips.

“I never ever want to hurt you again,” Steve continued when you didn’t say anything. “I promise, I won’t. I want to be better, I want to be the boy you trusted when we were kids. I care about you so unbelievably much. I never stopped, not once. Please let me prove it,” he’d moved closer to you and you let him, trying your best to keep your feelings hidden from your expression. You were close to breaking, to giving in, to letting yourself be unequivocally in love with Steve Harrington. But you still had to put up a fight, to prove it was the right choice, not just a never-ending loop of pain.

“I’ve given you so many chances, Steve. How do I know this one would be any different?” you couldn’t look at him, knowing you’d lose all your resolve if you did. So your eyes fell to your lap instead. Steve watched your avoidant gaze, wanting more than anything for you to face him.

“Because I love you,” it was firm and unwavering, a declaration spilled from Steve’s cracked lips. It snapped your attention to him immediately, granting Steve his previous wish. “I always have, even when we were kids. I got confused when popularity came into play, but it was still there, in the back of my mind. I didn’t know what it was then, but I do now, and I’ll do anything for you, anything to keep you with me,” Steve grew shy, still unable to tell how you feel. “I want you in any way that you’ll have me. Anything is fine with me as long as I have you back in my life. I just can’t lose you,” Steve finished, leaving his words in the air for you to respond. You took your time to collect your own thoughts, to steady the thump of your heart in your chest.

“Steve,” it was soft, gentle, longing, matching the tone Steve hoped to hear. “I don’t want to lose you either,” the words halted Steve’s heart in his chest. He hoped this was it, that you loved him the way he loved you. “I want to trust you again, but you have to earn it. We can't just keep hurting each other,” you asserted and Steve nodded wildly. You wanted to laugh at the way his hair flopped around on his head as he did it, but you refrained, simply letting a smile crest your lips instead. Steve’s lips matched yours, curling at the edges, and soon you found yourselves incapable of holding back the soft chuckles that rose in your throat.

Steve’s eyes never left you, admiring the smile he’d so dearly missed seeing. He only ever wanted for you to be happy, only wanted you to know you’re loved. And from here on out, he’d make sure that you were. You leaned forward resting your forehead against Steve’s, one last ditch attempt at your silly determination to communicate telepathically. It never worked with Eddie, so why not try it with Steve, the boy you loved since you were five. It would ease the tension, tell Steve what your lips were too scared to say.

“What am I thinking?” you asked, hands coming up to hold Steve’s shoulders in place. His hands wrapped around you, resting on your waist, feeling your scarred skin through the thin material of your shirt. Steve scoured his mind, focusing on you, the soft reflection of light in your eyes, the way your lips were dry and cracked, the curve of your cheekbones. You were more than beautiful to him, you were angelic, bewitching, radiant. You were everything he ever wanted and needed.

“That you like me too?” Steve put on his smug charm, trying to cover up his nervousness. It made you want to laugh, to kiss him, to tell him the truth.

“So close, Stevie. I was thinking more along the lines of love, but if that’s what you’re getting then, sure, we can go with that,” you shrugged jovially, a smile stretched across your cheeks as Steve’s jaw went slack. His eyes watched you for any sign of doubt, of mockery, but he couldn’t find any. He knew it then, you loved him too. Steve found your gaze, eyes whispering to him in their own secret language. Kiss me, they said, and who was he to deny them of their wish? Steve pulled you in, grip tightening on your waist as he did. Your chest was suddenly flush with his, your body now resting in his lap, lips only a breath away from meeting. It was a last chance to bow out, to give it up for good, but you didn’t want to. You tilted your chin, finally closing the gap and brushing your lips against Steve’s. The kiss was encompassed by every flower he’d ever picked for you, every peek behind closed curtains, every taunt and tease and fight, every innuendo, every unseen longing gaze, every utterance of the name Baby, all wrapped together. It felt like winning a game of hide-and-seek that had been called off after an hour of unsuccessful searching, a ring of smoke clinging to the air and lingering high only to be dissipated by the summer breeze, a ceasefire on the battlefield for a war that had gone on too long. It felt like Steve, and you couldn’t get enough of it. His lips danced with yours, never wanting to feel anything but the crush of you against him. But eventually, you ran out of air, pulling back enough to breathe, still keeping your forehead pressed to his.

“I think I knew you loved me because I always loved you too,” Steve’s words were breathy, softened with the heave of his chest. Your smile flashed through your heavy breaths and hot cheeks. Steve Harrington loved you, and you loved him too. It would take some getting used to, but you liked the sound of it. You couldn’t hold back any longer, leaning back in to reattach your lips to his. 

A moan mixed in with the kiss, grumbling up from Steve’s throat. His hands shifted down past your waist, landing on your ass with a light squeeze. You laughed at the gesture, keeping your lips pressed against his, and Steve’s heart melted at the sound. But he didn’t have long to linger on the feeling, because your hips rolled against his crotch, catching him off guard. Steve’s mouth opened a bit at the feeling, eliciting a groan from deep within him. You took advantage of the opportunity and slid your tongue against Steve’s. You did the move that you always did, a roll of your tongue against his, and Steve’s fingers dug deeper into your skin.

“Fuck, is that the tongue thing that Hargrove was talking about?” Steve asked, pulling away for just a second before attaching his lips to the column of your neck. 

“I don’t want to talk about Billy right now, okay?” you gasped as Steve’s teeth bit into the sensitive spot on your neck. You felt heat flush straight to your core and a whimper slipped from your lips. Steve was mesmerized, enthralled with the sweet sounds you made and the way your breaths picked up.

“Noted,” Steve spoke against your neck, sending vibrations down your spine. He worked his way back up to your lips, hand trailing under your shirt. You flinched when his hand brushed your scar, his cool fingers causing goosebumps to prickle your skin. You always had to lie to your hookups about where the scars came from, but you didn’t need to with Steve. He knew you. He had matching wounds. Steve pulled away, worried about the way you shuddered when he came into contact with the healed skin. But you just lifted your arms above your head, signaling for Steve to remove your shirt. The soft fabric slid from your skin, leaving your chest exposed. You’d foregone a bra that morning, and given the entranced look on Steve’s face at the sight of your bare breasts, you were really glad that you did. His hands gravitated towards your chest, cupping it gently. Steve’s thumbs came to rest on your nipples, brushing back and forth over them, evoking a delicious moan from your lips.

His mouth found yours again, and you couldn’t help the way your hips began to grind against his, craving friction to satisfy the heat pooling between your legs. You removed Steve’s shirt then, and instead of resuming his previous position, Steve tilted his head down, attaching his lips to one of your nipples. You couldn’t help the pleasure that coursed through your veins, grinding harder against Steve’s lap. He was hard beneath his sweatpants, and his length caught against your clit with each movement, only further riling you up. Soft moans fell from both of your lips in harmony until Steve’s mouth departed from your chest, shifting to lay you down with his body hovering over you. His lips were swollen and red, wet with his saliva as he gazed down at you. He looked at you with a hunger that he’d suppressed for far too long as his hands trailed down your stomach, slowly pulling down the sweatpants that rested on your hips. You lifted your bum, making it easier for Steve to take them off. Once your pants were discarded on the floor, Steve’s face shifted down, hovering over your clothed cunt. 

“You don’t have to,” you spoke quietly, suddenly seeming shy and so drastically different from the girl who just rolled her tongue into Steve’s mouth.

“Trust me, Baby, I want to. I want to so fucking bad, have for a long time,” Steve’s eyes found yours, but he didn’t move from his spot between your thighs. His breath fanned over your skin, only adding more heat between your legs. He placed small kisses on your inner thighs and your back arched at the sensation. Steve truly had waited a long time to do this, thought about it late at night while his hand fisted his cock, so he was going to savor every second. His fingers dragged over your panties, drawing little stars over the material. You threw your head back, unable to contain yourself as a result of Steve’s teasing.

“Please Stevie, need you so bad,” you begged, breath coming out ragged and labored. Steve smirked up at you, finally hooking his fingers into the cotton material and yanking them off. He lowered himself further, breath now fanning over your exposed heat. Steve wasted no time, licking into your cunt, flexing his tongue with each flick back and forth through your wet folds. You gasped as he held down your thighs, holding them tightly around his head. His tongue was persistent, like a starved man eating for the first time in days. Steve’s hips rutted against the mattress, so turned on by the noises you made, the way you tasted, how you felt against his tongue. It got to a point where you could hardly keep still, squirming wildly beneath Steve’s steel grip, and he knew you were close.

His mouth came up to your clit, sucking it with enough force to make you whine out his name. He could come at just the sounds you made, but he held back, keeping his focus on your core and the shake that slowly began in your thighs. The coil that had been building in the pit of your stomach snapped, a wave of pleasure flooding through you. Steve lapped at your folds, capturing the last of your arousal on his tongue as you came down from your high, chest heaving and thighs quaking.

“Fuck, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Steve ran a hand through his hair, shifting up to place a kiss to your lips. You tasted yourself on him, a whimper escaping you in response. Without breaking the kiss, your hands came down, fumbling to rid Steve of his sweatpants, but he stopped you. 

“I wanna return the favor, Stevie. Wanna make you feel good too,” you spoke between kisses and Steve pulled away, hastily shaking his head. 

“You do that now and it’ll be all over. I’d rather come inside you, Baby,” Steve's eyes asked you for permission, wanting more than anything to be buried inside you. You understood what he meant and nodded eagerly, the idea reigniting the heat between your thighs. Steve got up quickly, pulling his pants from his legs. You repositioned yourself, now on your hands and knees, facing away from Steve. He kneeled on the bed behind you, one hand smoothing over the curve of your ass, gently finding its resting place on your waist. His lips placed a quick kiss to your spine as he took his length in his hand. He pumped himself a few times before lining up with your entrance, slowly pushing in with a wrecked moan. Your walls stretched around him, squeezing his length as he bottomed out. You couldn’t help the faint pants that fell from your lips at the feel of being so full. 

“Fuck, Steve, so big,” you whined, arms weakly holding you in place. He chuckled behind you, trying to keep from blowing his load right then and there. You were so tight, your walls surrounding him perfectly. He slowly started to move, pulling his hips out gently and pushing himself back in. Steve was practically growling at the sensation of your walls clasped so close around him. As you both adjusted, Steve sped up, his hips bouncing quickly off the curve of your ass. It was hot and wet, hard and deep, the sound of skin slapping together filled the room. 

“Taking me so good, Baby. Wanna hear those pretty sounds. Making ‘em just for me, right?” Steve’s breath was labored, trying hard to hold on as his fingers dug into your hips. You complied with Steve’s request, letting your stifled whimpers echo throughout the room. Steve pulled you up then, your back pressed to his front as your ass bounced off his thighs. He thrusted up into you and his hands came up to fondle your breasts. “Tell me you’re close, Baby. I can’t hold on much longer,” he muttered in your ear, ending his statement with another shaky groan. You nodded, the back of your head moving against his shoulder as you did. He quickened his pace then, using every last ounce of reserve that he had to pound into you, bodies pressing together. Your face scrunched in pleasure and Steve’s followed, both of you toeing the edge of blinding pleasure. 

“Fuck, Stevie. Love you so much,” you moaned through ragged breaths, hand coming behind his head in an attempt to pull his lips to yours. The words you spoke and the crash of your lips against his had Steve coming undone. His hot streams of cum coated the inside of your walls, triggering your own high, cries of Steve’s name muffled by the taste of his swollen lips. You sunk back down onto his lap as he finally ceased his movements, resting on the back of his heels, still buried deep within you. His eyes met your soft gaze and he couldn’t help the uptick of his lips. You loved him and that’s all that mattered to him now.

The two of you cleaned yourselves up, slowly redressing to various degrees. Steve pulled on the boxers that were lost in his sweatpants while you draped your oversized shirt back over your frame. You gave up on trying to find your panties, accepting that they were now lost in the mess of Steve’s cluttered bedroom floor. You fell back into bed with Steve, rolling on your side to face him, the bed sheets draped over you. Steve’s legs brushed against yours, slowly intertwining until one of your legs rested between both of his. You caught sight of a cherry stem resting on his nightstand, one that had been tied in a knot, and held back your teasing remarks about him keeping it. Steve studied you, wanting to memorize this moment, each feature of your face. He wanted to fall asleep and wake up to the sight of your soft, pleasant smile as you watched over him in the same way he did to you. Eventually, Steve’s lids grew heavy, fluttering closed as he drifted off to sleep, you not far behind.

When you woke in the morning, you were still tangled together, radiating heat off one another to fill the otherwise cold morning air. You nestled your head into Steve’s bare chest, a soft groan slipping from him as he awoke. Neither of you wanted to get up, face the morning, and separate after a night together. The only reason you eventually did get up was because Steve had to go to work and you were sure your parents would notice your absence soon.

You went downstairs before him, waiting for him to find his car keys in the mess of his room. You shared a kiss on his doorstep, fingers tangling in Steve’s hair as he pulled your hips flush with his. A whine escaped you as he pulled away, leaning down to pluck a daisy from his mom’s well-manicured front garden. Steve tucked the daisy behind your ear, placing one last kiss to your lips before walking over to his car. He opened his car door, stopping for another glimpse of you before he left. You smiled at him, waving him off and watching as he backed out of the driveway. He blew you a kiss before putting the car in drive and pulling away. You held the kiss close to your heart, the heart that now belonged to him, and headed back across his lawn to your own house.

The smell of coffee wafted through the air as you shut the front door behind you. Your parents sat at the kitchen table, a newspaper between them and a cup of coffee each. You drifted into the kitchen, ignoring their questioning looks, and plugged the phone back into the wall. Your parents shared a silent look, a look of relief that the storm was over, that normalcy would soon resume. 

You went upstairs then, entering your bedroom and pulling back the curtains that encompassed your window. You planned to leave a note for Steve stuck to the glass, the same way you used to when you were kids, one for him to find when he got back home from work. But when your eyes drifted to the window across from yours, you were met with confusion.

In place of the army of green men that once sat on the window sill was a pencil with a half sheet of white paper attached to it. A white flag. Steve surrendered, and the war was over. You smiled at the gesture before crafting your own flag to mirror the one across from you. It would be a truce then, breaking even and giving up the fight. The ache in your chest was quelled and replaced by an unfathomable warmth. There were no winners or losers anymore. There was just you and Steve, two lovers that took way too long to figure it out. 

You would call Eddie and Robin later to explain the previous night’s events, but for now, you sat back on your bed, Pride and Prejudice clasped in your hands. You opened the cover, eyes landing on the bookmark between its pages, mind drifting off to the boy that picked you flowers and told you he loved you so long ago. Maybe you knew him all along. Maybe he wasn’t so different after all.

You put me on and said I was your favorite

The summer sun beat down on Steve’s tanned skin, sweat dripping from his brow, making a trail down his neck to the collar of his t-shirt. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, wishing to escape Hawkins’ summer heat. With a deep breath, Steve leaned down to grab the box at his feet, hoisting it up to hand to you. You stood in the back of a U-Haul, organizing the boxes that were handed to you. Your very sweaty boyfriend flashed you a smile before turning to go back into his house and grab more boxes.

“You guys couldn’t have picked a hotter day to move,” Eddie appeared in front of you, unruly curls stuck to his forehead and neck. You’d offered him a hair tie earlier, but he declined, now stuck suffering in the humid air. His arms were strained with the weight of the box he was carrying, clearly struggling more than Steve had been.

“Sorry, Eds. We can’t control the weather,” you took the box that he had brought out, placing it somewhere behind you in the truck. You brushed away the sweat that had formed above your lip and watched as Eddie shook his head.

“I can’t believe you guys are actually leaving,” a sad smile stretched his lips as he spoke. He knew that it would happen eventually, that you would leave behind this horror story of a town and start anew. You’d suffered more Upside Down related trauma than he had, and he knew the fears that still crept into your mind from time to time. It was a good change, even if it meant leaving the people you loved behind.

“Me too, honestly,” you looked up then, head snapping towards the sound of voices arguing in the distance. Steve and Dustin were on Steve’s front porch loudly talking back and forth about how to move Steve’s dresser from his room. Robin stood next to them, rolling her eyes and dragging Max towards your house to grab the last of your book collection. “I’m glad it's with him though,” you nodded your head towards Steve, who was still deep in his discussion with Dustin, wild hand gestures and all. Steve caught you gazing at him from the corner of his eye, shooting you a look that said ‘this kid is crazy’ before disappearing into the house, Dustin hot on his trail. 

“Yeah, yeah, you guys are in love or whatever. We get it,” Mike appeared at Eddie’s side, his slim arms struggling to carry his box. You raised a brow at him, lifting the box from his arms with ease and he faced you with an unamused glare. 

“I think it's sweet,” Will approached behind him, also unloading a box into your arms. He smiled at you sweetly, and suddenly it hit you how much you were going to miss all of them. The bickering and the fights, the tight hugs and reassurances that they would call to let you know they got home safe. The late nights spent overanalyzing every detail of some cheesy movie that you’d forget the plot of by the morning. And in the background of it all was Steve. His forlorn gaze as Nancy walked you down her driveway to your car. His open curtains waiting for your lights to flicker on when you got back from work. His grand gestures as he put himself in harm's way, trying to protect you. You pretended to hate each other, but now you know that you never really did. 

The afternoon dragged on, the heat weighing heavy on everyone as boxes and furniture were piled into the truck. Eventually, you all finished and everything you owned was packed away. Steve grabbed a quick shower, rinsing the sweat from his body to make the long car ride more comfortable. You hugged your parents goodbye, urging them to come visit once everything was unpacked. The others still lingered, waiting to watch as you and Steve drove away. Tears filled their eyes and streamed down sweaty cheeks as you hugged each of the younger kids, promising to return for Thanksgiving. 

Steve began his round of goodbyes, mainly opting for a secret handshake or a ruffling of hair. Robin squeezed you so tightly that you thought she might crack one of your ribs. She sniffled as she pulled away, moving on to give Steve the same crushing embrace. Eddie stood before you, his head tilted towards the ground. You brushed his hair back from his face, catching sight of his tear-stained cheeks. He pulled you close, arms encompassing your frame. 

“You’ll call every week?” he spoke into your hair, burying his face in it to hide his swell of tears. You nodded against him, your own muffled cries slipping from your lips. He pulled back then, and Steve was right behind you.

Steve placed his hand on your back, guiding you to the front seat of the U-Haul. He said his goodbye to Eddie before joining you. Steve’s car was hooked up to the back of the truck and your parents planned to bring yours up with them when they came to visit.

You stood on the ledge of the truck admiring the sea of your friends that stood before you. They watched you with tearful eyes as you shot them one last watery smile and slid into your seat. Your gaze was pulled towards the side of your house, your bedroom window that sat across from Steve’s. It was funny to think how close he always was, even when he felt miles away. Steve’s hand brushed yours then, the tingle of skin pulling you from your thoughts.

“Ready to go, Baby?” Steve asked, reaching down to put the truck in gear. His hair was still wet, smelling of his lavender-scented shampoo. You ran your hands through it, brushing the loose strands to the side. Steve caught your hand, placing a small kiss on your palm before you could pull away. 

Sixth grade Steve was right, you were leaving with your things packed into boxes and a new city calling your name. But not because you were the worm girl that was running away. It wasn’t because this town had terrorized and taunted you to the point of no return. You were leaving because you wanted to, not because you felt forced out. And sixth grade Steve was wrong about you finding the love of your life once you left too, because you’d already found him, and for that Steve couldn’t be happier.

“With you?” you questioned, eyebrows raised, hand still encompassed by Steve’s. He nodded, showing you that smile that he reserved just for you. The same one he gave you as you sat on the sidewalk with dried worms newly relocated to the surrounding grass. You mirrored his look, gazing into his hazel eyes with all the love and adoration you had acquired for him over the years. “Always.”

#steve harrington #joe keery #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfics #stranger things fic #stranger things fics #stranger things slowburn #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington slowburn #steve harrington slow burn #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fics #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrinton fanfics #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x femreader #steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington enemies to lovers #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x fem! reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #joe keery fic #joe keery fanfiction #joe keery fanfic

[tvgals]

i accidentally posted it so i had to delete it 😪

ALSO THANK UOU BAE 💞💞

‘ LET THE LIGHT IN. ‘

even though bully! connie had undeniable feelings for you, he hadn’t told anyone besides you yet. how big of a mistake was that?

you were smiling at yourself while getting ready for you and connie’s second date. you were officially his girlfriend, no one else knew but you two. connie said he’d never keep you two a secret! the lies he told.

your phone started to ring, the name ‘con 💞’ popping up. you grinned and answered the facetime. he was in the car with someone, a boy it sounded like. you were 50% sure it was his friend eren, but you weren’t sure.

“hi baby!” you grinned, waving at him.

connie’s eyes go wide, he immediately turns down the volume and keeps on driving, not saying a word. this was weird. usually he’d be so excited to be on the phone with you, so enthusiastic to talk to you, why was he so different now?

“who that?” you hear the boy in the passenger seat talk, now you were sure it was eren. “it ain’t nobody.” connie responds. eren laughed to himself. “i know that ain’t y/n.” you perk up at the sound of your name, you purse your lips and listen further. connie gave eren a look to ‘shut the fuck up’ but he kept on going. “bro, just tell her about the prank. i’ve seen her following you around, shit’s getting embarrassing.” eren starts to laugh harder.

“you haven’t told her yet? dude, you’re gonna crush her.” eren reprimanded connie through laughs. good thing this was his house. “okay okay, i’ll see you tomorrow?” eren asks, sticking his hand out so connie can dap him up, but connie just huffed and told eren to get out.

once the coast was clear, you sniffled. “what prank, connie?” connie’s heart breaks at the sound of your weak voice. he turns his phone back up and sighs. “nothing, baby.” connie sighed. “it is something. i’m not stupid!” you say into the phone. you’d gotten all pretty for no reason. for someone who asked you out as a joke. “no, it’s not. eren is just a dumbass. don’t listen to him.” connie tries to shrug off the situation.

“fuck you connie. i thought you’d actually change for me. i’m breaking up with you. don’t text me, don’t call me, don’t come over. we’re done.” you cry into the phone. you hang up and block connie, throwing your phone onto your bed. connie fucked up. something in his head told him to tell everyone else before shit got fucked up, but he never did. and it came back to bite him in the ass.

“jesus..” connie mumbled to himself, rubbing his face. he never knew this would blow up in his face. he thought it would just be harmless and no one would get hurt. he looked at the time, 5:45 and he headed off to walmart. he had to make it up to you. he pulled into the walmart parking lot, shoving his phone into his pocket. he walks inside and goes directly to the floral section, grabbing you a plethora of pink and purple and orange flowers. he smiles at the sight of your face in his mind. he hopes you can forgive him. connie then relocates to the card section, where he grabbed you a plain pink glittery card, where he plans to write a message to you. he then grabs you a few plushies and a pink gift bag.

he checks out and heads to his car, holding his breath on the drive to your house. he can’t even listen to music. he’s scared he’ll find a song that’ll remind him of you. he parked his car across from your house. he turns his car off and takes a deep breath, grabbing his gifts and walking to your door. connie is glad he knows his way around your family. your dad takes the morning shift, so he’s dead asleep while your mom takes third shift, so she’s at work. he lightly knocks on the door a few times. “please, y/n…” he whispers to himself. he gets a bit excited when he hears the pitter patter of your feet. he’s sure you have those cute pink socks with the bow on the top. you open the big door, sighing at the sight of connie.

“i told you don’t come over…” your voice is hoarse, sounding as if you’ve been crying ever since you’d hung the phone up. “i couldn’t just let you leave me without an explanation, baby.” connie says. “i gotchu some stuff…can we just talk?” he asks. you look down at his hands to see flowers and that cute little pink gift bag. “okay.” you say. you unlock the screen door and connie walks in, closing both doors before taking his shoes off. he follows behind you to your room. he intakes the familiar smell of winter candy apple immediately. connie hands you your gifts, which you handle with care when you place it on your nightstand.

“talk, connie.” you mumble, fiddling around with your fingers. “look, it was…” connie struggles to get the words out. “it was a prank.” connie admits, his head hanging low. you hold your breath, trying not to cry. “so what the fuck did you come over here for? just to play in my face?” you ask, almost crying. “no, no. you ain’t let me get to the point mama.” connie said, pulling you close. you tried to resist, but your mind wouldn’t let you.

“it started off as a prank. but when i started gettin’ to know you and seeing how you are, i fell in love. im sorry i didn’t tell anyone, baby…” connie apologized, rubbing circles along your hips. you gave yourself a second to register what he said to you. is he telling the truth? or was he just trying to string you along? “okay…” you mumble. “so you forgive me?” connie asks, hope in his voice. you sigh. “how are you gonna make it up to me? y’know i can’t forgive you this easy.” you grin, looking up at him. “i gotchu, mama.” connie says. he gently pushed you down on the bed. shimmying you out your pajama pants.

“you’re so pretty f’me…” he whispers, pulling your print panties to the side and gently kissing your cunt. “please connie, don’t tease.” you whine, arching your back. connie knew this was his last chance to make it up to you, so he did what he had to please you. he delve into your cunt, slurping and pressing sloppy kisses to it. connie almost lived in your cunt, always eating you out when you were stressed about finals, maybe even if you were just minding your business. “shit, connie!” you groan, arching your back and pushing his head further.

“mhmm…” connie hummed into your pretty pussy. “jesus, con!” you whined, your legs tightening around connie’s head. connie pulled away for a brief second. “open ‘em up, mama.” connie instructed you, pushing your legs apart before continuing to eat you out. “i’m gonna cum!” you moaned, trying to be quiet to not wake up your dad. “mhm, cum f’me…” he mumbles as you came on his face. connie couldn’t be more handsome than what he was now. his eyes low and filled with lust. “gonna let me fuck you now?” connie asked, pulling his dick out his nike sweatpants. “mhm…” you hum, pulling connie close to you. he chuckles at the action, pushing his dick inside your wet cunt.

“i’m so sorry, baby…” connie whimpers, thrusting into your cunt. “it’s okay…it’s okay…i k-know you didn’t mean it.” you forgive connie, holding his veiny hands. “please please, i didn’t mean f-for this to happen…i love you y/n.” connie moaned into your ear, his pace getting gradually faster. “don’t just throw that word around!” you reprimanded him, clawing at his back. “m not…i mean it…” connie whispers, almost too quiet to hear. “p-promise?” you sigh out, arching your back. “pinky promise.” connie smiled.

“‘m gonna cum…gonna cum so hard…” connie warned you. moaning like there’s nothing else in the world but you. “where d’you want it?” connie asks, looking up at you. “inside…” you gripe, curling your toes. with a few more strokes and moans, connie shoots his cum inside of you, biting your shoulder to keep quiet. after a few minutes of silence, you suck up the courage to ask connie a question.

“you really love me?” you ask, looking into his big olive eyes. “of course i do…” connie grinned, pressing kisses to your face. “so you forgive me?” connie asks, holding your hand. “yes. but you have to tell people we’re dating.”

“deal.”

TAGLIST :

@looking4chanel @draculara-vonvamp @Therealcees-blog @laylasbunbunny @lovelytayy @d7n3 @deadgirlkisses @darkknightpeanutbagel @luvv-des @blackgirlontheblock @cherrycrys @thecoloredpages @xricly @jazzyluuv @peter-parkers-gf @chinaza444 @dynoduck @princesslilisworld @what-am1rah @baboon-milk333 @marcelineormars @mxspiderman2099 @ts1mp0ne @23victoria @ravereina @stevenknightmarc @laaailuh @diorsbrando @madz-rulez @spiderheartzz @chinieh @asensitivecookie @tourbug @anikaluv @mainvamp @strawberryshortcake143 @spectr3inl0ve @anitatvd @vitlicious @yuckyygutz @liyahontop @janaeby @milesmoralesesposa @lily-pythonz @s1xtr @naijagrl @ninaaaazzzz @sucuretcannelle @captaincyberqueen @sylisan @cafehyunji @gtsflawless @v1rtu4lsworld @anotherblackreader @petitecolibri @bakuhoe37 @anubisisthebomb @sillygoofymoodx @sinnerzstuff @viisgrave @silkcatsz @bratzdolly4 @motheroffae @dollypipp @princessru1 @s1rennsworld

#myatalks🫡 #black reader #blkshoyo #connie x reader #connie x reader smut #connie x black reader #connie x you #aot x reader smut #aot x female reader #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #aot x you #aot x reader #aot x y/n #anime x black reader #anime x black!reader #anime x reader #connie smut #connie x black y/n #connie angst #connie fluff #aot fluff #aot smut #aot angst

[81folklore]

dress - SV5 - part 2

pairings: sebastian vettel x famous!reader (fc: taylor swift)

summary: its known that seb has been married for a few years now despite the public never seeing is wife, its also known that yn is in a committed relationship and has been since she disappeared from public eye. maybe they are more connected than people realise

authors note: part two because i didnt realise how long it had gotten but im allergic to actually writing.. also i apologize for the first part literally just being build-up.. i honestly didnt know about the 30 pic limit so...

authors note 2: i used google translate for the german so i hope its correct, also i dont know if petnames like darling or sunshine are used in germany but i had to use them

authors note 3: i actually hate how this turned out :/ but it was very hard to actually get my thoughts onto the page so this will do! this is part 2 so go read part 1 first!!

part 1 part 3 masterlist

ynupdates

liked by user5, user77, olliebearman and 45,920 others

YN IN THE F1 PADDOCK TODAY, I REPEAT YN IN THE PADDOCK

view comments

user77: sorry i dont follow f1, i thought the races were on sundays?

user5: dont be sorry! today is qualifying and tomorrow is the race!

user5: SHES THERE I CANT STAY CALM

user91: does anyone know who she was with in those photos of her by the track?

user5: sebastian vettel and mick schumacher!

user6: SHE WAS WATCHING QUALIFYING WITH SEB AND MICK?? SEB VETTEL?? AND MICK SCHUMACHER?? OH LORDDD

user12: i thought i would survive.. i lied

ynupdates

liked by user5, user20, user99 and 101,782 others

seems like yn is with redbull at todays race looking as gorgous as ever!

view comments

user5: OH OH OH OH

user5: SHE IS STUNING HOLY

user20: her style recently has been AMAZING

user68: out of every team i think redbull would have been one of my last guesses

user6: THE WAY SHE IS WITH REDBULL AND SPENT QUALIFYING WITH REDBULLS GOLDEN BOY OH I FEEL SICK

user99: i love her so much

user42: at least her team will win

user591: IS SHE WEARING A WEDDING RING??

user618: i think so?? honestly i wouldnt be surprised shes very private and has been with her partner for almost 8 years so no wonder he popped the question

user90: i need her to be at every gp

ynupdates

liked by charles_leclerc, user55, user81 and 234,891 others

yn on stage performing dress during the post-race concert at suzuka! as far as we know it was a complete surprise, she came on to sing dress then left. this is her second time performing it to a live audience!

view comments

user81: WHEN IS IT MY TURN TO HEAR DRESS LIVE

user5: charles and seb were both spotted watching her from the side of the stage!

user81: charles taking seb to see his favorite artist..what if i cried

user55: i cant believe i lost dress twice without even knowing i could lose it😭

user8: i hope she had so much fun, ive missed her doing stuff like this :’)

user12: apparently she was laughing and looking off stage at someone throughout, possibly her partner?

user1: SHE AWLAYS LOOKS SO GOOD

user13: so much content this weekend..im going to have major withdrawls

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, mickschumacher and 13,712,847 others

four years ago i was given the pleasure of marrying my best friend

i am unable to really put into words how much meeting you and getting to spend the rest of my life with you has changed my life seb, but i tell you i love you enough daily that i hope you understand

when we first met i had no idea how much you would impact me and the way i think, but you have helped me become the woman i am today and i am forever grateful for that

i often feel unworthy of the life you have given me, the life we have together. i wonder how i got to be the one you love and cherish and i know how lucky i am to be the one you spend your life with

you gave me your heart and i promise to look after it for as long as im here, i promise to keep it safe and i know you will look after mine

danke, dass du mich liebst, danke, dass du dich um mich kümmerst. (thank you for loving me, thank you for taking care of me) Ich verspreche, dich bis zu meinem letzten Atemzug zu lieben. (I promise to love you until my last breath) Ich werde nie aufhören, dich zu lieben, Mein Sonnenschein. (I will never stop loving you, my sunshine)

tagged: sebastianvettel

comments on this post have been limited

sebastianvettel: Danke, dass du dein Herz geöffnet hast und mich dich lieben lässt, mein Schatz (Thank you for opening your heart and letting me love you, my darling)

sebastianvettel

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 8,728,712 others

I won the most important race. It was the race into the heart of the love of my life, yn. I love you.

view comments

yourusername: 🩵🩵🩵

user5: I CANT DO THIS STOP

user12: hes so sweet :(

user18: ive known about them for a total of 2 minutes but i love them already🫡

user6: dress was written about him…

user71: i feel ill wehn will i get posted like this

sebastianvettel

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, landonorris and 10,120,859 others

the sunshine of my life

view comments

yourusername: i love you so much

lewishamilton: very happy for you mate!

user13: THEY LOVE EACHOTHER SO MUCH OH MY GOD😭😭

landonorris: 🥹🥹

user82: DRESS WAS WRITTEN BY HER FOR HIM AND HE WAS PROUD OF IT OH LORD

user5: literally my favorite people in the entire universe🫶

user19: still in shock that theyve been married for four years

#f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #social media au #formula 1 insta au #formula 1 social media au #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel #famous!swift!yn

[faevi]

GOJO SATORU WAKES YOU UP - (smut)

Scenario: Gojo Satoru promised to help you wake up on time and fix your sleeping schedule. He decides to use his own methods. (SMUT).

Word Count: 3,890.

Content / Trigger Warning: female reader (she/her), somnophilia, cunningulous, finger sucking, gagging, tasting of oneself(?), fingering, squirting, praise, a little bit of degradation / humiliation, a sprinkle of possessiveness, hair pulling, marking with hickies, pet-names, slight size kink, gojo being hot?

Please let me know if i missed anything - if i have, it’s genuinely unintentional.

Note: As you can see, I'm slowly getting back into writing cause I miss it. So it might be a liiiiittle bit rusty. This is my first Satoru piece! I plan to write many more. This isn't proofread / edited - So please just ignore any mistakes lkdfgfd. I also tried to follow the aesthetic trends of how everyone posts their writing pieces?? Editing is hard. I hope someone reads this and likes it (: Please let me know if you do!

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Satoru’s warm gaze never left the bed. Even as he blindly wraps the leather strap around his wrist, long fingers sliding the strap through the metal half circle, prick poking into the hole and tightens the watch. He decided to let you sleep in for an extra hour as he prepared himself for work. It’s difficult for the tall male to not indulge in spoiling you, especially when you look so cute curled up and drool seeping out onto the pillow.

Still…. He made a promise to both himself and you that he’d help you improve your sleeping schedule and limit sleeping in. It pains his heart whenever he watches you get upset from wasting hours of your day. Satoru gently sprays his cologne, dabbing it against the sides of his neck and wrists before setting the fancy-looking bottle down amongst your many that he’s purchased for you. He checks the time on his watch, already unbuttoning the few buttons of his white dress shirt. It’s 8:10 AM and he has to leave soon.

The white-haired male opts out on waking you up in a usual loud-playful manner of his. Simply because, well, you’re looking too cute. Just how you manage to coax him into letting you sleep in without even having to lift a finger. Satoru approaches the shared bed, feet silent against the carpet floor before he lowers one knee against the mattress, feeling it sink beneath his weight as he leans down, large hand sliding from your waist to hug around your stomach.

“Baby, it’s time to wake up..” Satoru speaks softly, voice his usual low and soothing. He scatters kisses against your bare shoulder, fingers gently brushing against your stomach before his palm presses against it. You only stir a little in your peaceful slumber, curling up further and pitifully trying to pull the blankets over your head. Satoru snorts, endeared by how you are just not a morning person at all. His loving attempt was a failure and he watches as you continue to sleep, wondering what you’re dreaming about.

Strands of white hair fall over his crystal blue eyes as he presses his bigger form against you, almost smothering you but he keeps his weight off of you, trying to peek at your face beneath the blankets. “If you wake up now, I’ll take you out for breakfast.” Satoru offers, hands on your body stopping as he waits to see if that temptation would have gotten a response. Nothing. Only soft breathing. ‘How can someone be such a heavy sleeper’, he thinks in almost disbelief. Satoru rolls his eyes before he stands up at the edge of the bed, hands tucking into the pockets of his black slacks. The sadistic, playful side within him calls to rile you up in the early morning by yanking the blankets and dragging your body off of the mattress but…

His heart just squeezes at the sight of the bundle of blankets forming barriers around you. Nothing is tucked in tightly, thanks to the fun last night and so instantly, an idea pops into his head. He has access. Satoru is often fantasizing about you. Hell, it feels like it’s every second of the day. It’s a miracle that he’s even able to focus on work or crack a joke to annoy his co-workers. Satoru is just the best at multi-tasking and right now, he craves to devour you and wake you up… eventually. Technically it’s multi-tasking.

Satoru bends over, lifting the blankets up cautiously from the bottom until he could see your bare legs. His heart begins to thump faster with excitement at the thought of touching you when you’re at your most vulnerable; cock twitching in his slacks. He flicks the blankets over to keep your legs exposed, hands rolling up the sleeves of his tight fitted dress shirt before he lowers his upper body onto the mattress, one hand guiding the blankets over his head until he finds himself trapped between your legs, hungry gaze falling onto your pussy.

Even with the darkness clouding around him from the blankets, Satoru can see everything. Your cunt already lightly coated in a light sheen of slick. Appearing so inviting for the taller male. He groans quietly, large hands cupping the back of your thighs and pauses for a moment. You don’t even squirm from the new touch. Whatever you’re dreaming about must be good. That, or your trust in him is so deep that it reaches sleep. He guides your legs over his broad shoulders, shifting himself so his knees are planted on the carpet, the length of your legs staying over his shoulders as he presses soft kisses to your inner thighs, tongue sliding out to teasingly dance across your smooth skin. His love-marks from last night only encourage him, lips latching onto your warm flesh to suck harshly to form another; now starting to feel you squirm a little.

You whine softly in your sleep, trying to roll onto your side but it fails as his strength easily keeps you flat on your back; body thinking nothing of it as you continue your peaceful slumber. He clicks his tongue in disapproval, though lips curled in amusement. “A sleeping beauty, all mine for the taking.” Satoru mumbles beneath his breath, fingers squeezing your flesh roughly before inching up until his long index finger glides between your folds. It slides so easily. Wet, already. He groans, pressing his crotch against the edge of the bed to try and contain himself. Invading your wet needy cunt with his cock would definitely wake you up but he thinks you need to earn it and you’re unable to do so in such a slumber.

Satoru is always in absolute awe when it comes to the sight of your pussy becoming so easily aroused just from his touch. Even as you sleep. Two of his fingers continue to cautiously glide up and down between your slick covered folds, grinning a little at noticing your thighs quivering from the careful touch. Even your hole clenches around nothing in response, desperate to be filled. Your eyebrows furrow, tilting your head into the pillow to lazily nuzzle against it in your sleep, inhaling the scent of the white-haired male that lingers. “Fuck, baby..” Satoru mumbles, two of his fingers pressing against your folds until they part to reveal your sensitive clit and needy hole. Strings of slick become visible and Satoru is always easily tempted. He drags his tongue between to break the strings, pleased by tasting you further.

With silent frustration towards the blankets hiding your face, Satoru swiftly yanks them off until the pair of you are exposed, blankets discarded on the floor. He coos mockingly as you begin to shiver from the cold. “Poor baby girl, needs warming up.” He whispers, toned arms wrapping around your thighs to keep them in place over his shoulders. Your inner thighs squeeze against his face, piercing blue eyes focusing on your sleeping face as he quickly dives in to devour you, growling lowly. His lips pressing sweetly against your sopping pussy, wet muscle dragging between your folds, moans muffled as he taste your sweet juices on his daring tongue. His mind going wild with the idea of what he could do to you as you sleep so deeply. It tempts him so much that Satoru thinks of testing further other times.

A whimpering moan parts from your sleeping lips, face scrunching up as pleasure spreads through your body from your core, fist bunching the sheets up. You stir in your slumber only slightly and for once, Satoru is glad you don’t wake up instantly. He feels powerful, being able to touch and kiss you when you’re completely vulnerable but still feeling the absolute bliss that is his tongue. Short nails dig into your thighs, pressing his face further between your legs as his open mouth makes out hungrily with your cunt. He could barely breathe from how firmly he’s pressing his face into your core, only inhaling the scent of your sex. His tongue laps up your sweetness before he leans in to press sloppy kisses to your throbbing clit, sucking harshly and tongue rubbing against the bud until he feels your legs tense up and tremble, pitifully trying to contain the ecstasy you begin to feel from his eager mouth never parting from your lower lips.

Tongue swirls around the nub lightly between his needy kisses, juices smearing across his handsome face. Blindly, your hand reaches down towards the source, fingers threading through his white hair. You begin to wake up. Slowly. Not truly able to get out of your slumber but, you feel the sweet pleasure wash over you constantly and your mind begins to seek for answers. “A-Ah… Wha— Nn…” You moan out, unable to form words from the cloud of sleepiness hanging over your head. What is going on? Something feels so good… You could barely lift it off of the pillows, eyes glancing down. You feel face get hot when realisation starts to hit you; Satoru is gazing back up at you. The piercing blue eyes wide and manic with a mixture of excitement & hunger. He’s eating you out like a starved man.

Satoru barely lifts his mouth to speak, voice dripping with lust and sounding breathless. “Good morning, princess. Finally awake, huh? Took me to touch your needy cunt for you to wake up? Filthy. My dirty little slut, hm?” The degrading words slip out through a teasing purr, prompting your free hand to pathetically try to cover your face. You feel your heart flutter, head dizzy with lustful thoughts. Drowsiness hands over your head but, it doesn’t stop your cravings starting to form. You couldn’t deny that the sadistic ways Satoru shows only causes your pussy to clench around nothing; wishing to be stretched out by his thick, pulsating cock.

“Nn, ‘toru, please—”

“No cock for you.”

He could practically read your mind by knowing you too well. That’s what you get for refusing to wake up in the first place, you suppose. Especially since you begged him to help you fix your awful habit. Satoru may love to spoil you, shower you in love and pleasure but, he can be almost scary with how firm he is with punishments. This isn’t the worst and so you accept it. You pout sleepily, eyes droopy as you watch the tall male bury his mouth against your wet cunt against, flustered by the sounds of just how excited your body is. It’s an addicting sight to see. A tall man lapping up your slick, groaning quietly from the delicious taste of you. He could taste you for hours on end if he could. Moans of his name part from you as you feel his tongue rub relentlessly against your pulsing clit, slurping loudly as his lips move against your folds, drinking every drop that dares to seep out. “Fuck, you taste so good.” Satoru groans, lips dragging down until his tongue teases your hole. You see stars, gasping sharply as you pull on the strands of his silky white hair.

Satoru groans from the ache he feels, head tilting back away from your hand to feel more of the painful tug, tongue licking over your fluttering hole, gently prodding at it. You anticipate it and, that’s why Satoru pulls away. He’s kneels up and grins down at you, admiring the way your body trembles so cutely beneath him. Your slick is dripping down his chin, coating his lower face. Your face falls from the loss of pleasure, attempting to whine in complaint. “Satoru, come on…” It does nothing, asides from making his cock strain even further against his slacks. Satoru takes his sweet time, wiping his face with his hand, watching as a string of your mess connects his fingers together.

“Dirty girl.” He comments before bringing his hand towards your face. “Open wide.” Satoru orders, voice smooth and instantly, you part your lips to happily take his long fingers into your mouth. Even this is spoiling. Satoru knows you have a wild fetish for his hands and so, if it’s not his cock that you can take; you’ll eagerly take his fingers down your throat. Your needy moans are muffled as you suck your own sweetness off of his fingers. The pads of his fingers press against your soft wet muscle, sliding them further down and watches intently as you swallow around them, his gaze darkening. Your throat muscles constrict around the invasion, causing you to gag audibly but you continue to suck like the filthy whore you are for this man.

“So good for me, aren’t you? Taking everything I give you.” He speaks soothingly, his free hand caressing your stomach. His other hand continues to slide long, slender fingers in and out of your mouth. You whimper, looking up at him with an ‘innocent’ gaze as you continue to obediently suck, only able to taste yourself, few droplets escaping down your chin. Satoru feigns calmness, checking the time on his watch. You couldn’t help but think how hot it is when he even checks the time. You’ve fallen that deep for the tall male. He’s definitely going to be late to work. Frankly, he doesn’t fucking care. They need him more than he needs them. What he truly needs? You. Always. Every shape and form. Still, this isn’t about him and so with every fibre of his being, Satoru ignores his cock, even though it throbs badly & craving to be touched.

“If you promise me to wake up properly when I wake you, I’ll let you come.” Satoru promises, slipping his fingers out of your mouth, thumb swiping gently against your lower lip. “P-Please, I promise! I’ll wake up on time, I swear.. I’ll listen to you, always. Please.” You beg, voice raspy from the lack of talking and having fingers deep down your throat. “Okay, baby~.” He coos, leaning down to press a loving kiss to your soft tiers, unable to deny how cute you are when you beg for him. You could smell is heavenly cologne gently waft over you from how close he is. One of your favourite scents. “Still, no cock.” He whispers breathlessly against your lips, hand trailing down to between your legs. You pout at him from denying you his cock once more, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him close.

He lovingly rubs his nose against yours, obliging your clinginess by keeping his bigger form pressed against you in an embrace, scattering kisses against your jawline as his long fingers meet your needy core once more. He doesn’t tease you by dragging out his time with you, two of his fingers rub against your quivering hole before finally pushing in slowly. They slide in so easily. Even if it’s just his fingers, Satoru groans at the feeling of your tight, velvety walls cling around his digits, squeezing. Your breathing becomes erratic from feeling the sweet stretch around his digits; nothing compared to the entire length of Satoru’s thick cock but, his fingers still feel so heavenly inside of you. You briefly wonder if you could just live your life with a part of him always inside of you.

You’re clinging onto him, upper body rising off of the bed and his free arm wraps around you to keep you pressed against him, soft lips still attached to your jawline, sucking firmly enough to leave a bruise. Another possessive mark to wear with pride. His long fingers pump deep inside of you, feeling them drag along your warm slick walls as they push in and out. Moans just spill from you and Satoru feels so damn aroused just from how needy and precious you sound. Your slick already dripping onto the sheets as he continues to pound his fingers into your tight cunt roughly, angling them until—

“Oh!” You gasp sharply when a jolt of ecstasy rushes over your entire body, upper body jerking upwards from the sudden sensation. Satoru knows where to find your sweet spot quickly and is already eager to abuse it until he witnesses pretty tears in your eyes, sobbing his name out over and over like your own prayer. The white-haired male keeps you trapped beneath his large frame, plunging his fingers desperately, rubbing against your g-spot and keeping his blue eyes focused on your visage. Fuck, it really turns him on to see your face scrunch up and mouth hanging open as you’re unable to contain yourself, crying out for him.

You choke on a sob, toes curling against the crinkled sheets and bare breasts jiggling from the impact of Satoru’s fingers moving, encouraging your hips to move as you grind down onto them. You feel complete bliss, not able to feel flustered like usual from the wet squelching sounds of your throbbing pussy. Pleasure in the form of electricity just shoots through your body, trying so hard to contain yourself by tensing up. Satoru knows you’re pathetic when it comes to that. It’s adorable, really. He enjoys watching you try to hide how good it feels before you’re babbling out his name, screaming for him.

Just as you are now. From his fingers alone. You bite down on his shoulder, trembling hands holding onto him as you cry out for him, tears glued to your long pretty lashes. Your stomach is feeling so hot and tight, throbbing walls clenching around his relentless fingers. “Sweet girl, need to come?” Satoru chuckles softly, warm breath fanning against the side of your face. The free arm holding himself up aches a little but that is nothing compared to his strength. Though, he knows you’d probably love being smothered by his larger body; Satoru selfishly wants to witness it all. Witness you come undone by just his digits.

You whimper, deliberately squeezing around his fingers to coax out a grunt from him. It’s true. He can read you so well because you really do need to let go. Be broken in by the man. There’s an unspoken rule between you both and that is waiting on his permission. He loves how obedient you get for him in the bed. So fucking cute and sweet. He drags it out a little longer, not quite done with you. He grinds his fingers into you, now pressing his palm against your sopping pussy and makes contact with your overly-sensitive clit.

“Ah, fuck! Please!” You plead breathlessly, a hand coming down to weakly hold onto his wrist but neither of you refuse to stop him. Satoru peels himself off of you, creating more distance between your body and you could see his eyes cloud darkly with desire for something. “Come for me.” Satoru orders, free hand pressing against your stomach, the fingers deep in your core now rapidly moving up and down. You pant heavily, feeling your high swiftly approaching as you try to lean up on your elbows, thighs squirming. Everything feels so damn hot and sensitive, it’s a miracle you’re not snapping your legs shut on his hand as you usually can’t help it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuu—‘Toru!!” You cry out in ecstasy as the waves of pleasure now constantly crash down over your body, leaving you trembling hard, eyes rolling. Satoru is quick to slide his fingers out to watch the heavenly sight he’s been craving for; you squirting. Fuck, he thinks. He’s panting himself as your sweet juices spurt out in lots, gushing hard all over the bed and his work slacks. “Squirting all over me, filthy girl.” He groans, not daring to blink. ‘Do not dare miss a moment’, he thinks. Your hips snap upwards, chasing the addicting high as your wetness continues to spill out. Tears escape, sobbing out for the white-haired male, body feeling so hot and tingly.

Satoru coos at the adorable sight of you coming undone from his mouth and fingers. Large hands caressing along your sides, not daring to hold you down through your orgasm. He enjoys it far too much as you tremble and cry for him. “Good girl..” He praises, one hand coming to stroke your hair, peppering kisses against your bare shoulder. His office clothes are a mess now, your fluids soaked in patches against his black slacks. He didn’t care. He loves you too much. Satoru lays next to you, arm wrapping around your waist to pull you in and lips cautiously brushing away your pretty tears, mixing in with the taste of your sweetness that lingers on his tongue. You slur out a whine when you feel his tongue against your face, body still trembling gently as it naturally comes down from the high. You feel so sensitive. No one else has ever made you feel anything this good until Satoru.

Satoru…

You just always crave to be with Satoru. Body, soul, heart & mind. This is where you belong. You lean back into his loving embrace, smiling from the multiple kisses that he presses to the top of your head, trying to look up at him through droopy eyelids. You could feel his bulge pressing against your backside. “Well, I’m awake now.” You joke sheepishly, prompting the male to snort and roll his eyes. “Didn’t take much to wake you, just my face buried between your legs. Should have tried that from the start, knowing how needy you are for me.” Satoru teases sweetly, lips curled to form a cocky grin. You feel heat rise to your cheeks, rolling over to bury your face into his firm chest, slowly gliding your hand down towards his crotch. His large hand smothers yours, stopping your movement and you pout. He’s still firm on the ‘no cock’ rule this morning for refusing to wake up, much to his dismay. His length aches from no action. You press an apologetic kiss to his broad shoulder, voice quiet.

“Don’t you need to leave for work? You’re already late.”

“Nah, they can wait a little longer. I’m with my girl.”

You smile at that, always feeling spoiled by him. You giggle softly, ignoring how sticky your legs feel as you tangle them with. He gazes fondly at you, arm draped over your side. His sweet girl. All his. He presses his lips to your cheekbone. It’s moments like these, that you really adore. Silence can even be comforting with the white-haired male. Satoru is in love with you. The warmth in his eyes will never fade, even if he’s feeling particularly nasty to ruin you in bed. His crystal blue eyes refuse to leave you, fingers splaying across your naked back, nails dragging over the hot skin. He clears his throat, trying to bite back a smug expression.

“So, Y/N. Dick for dinner tonight?”

You burst out with laughter, nose scrunching slightly. “Come on.” You say, sitting up and taking hold of his hand, fingers interlocking. You could feel your dried up slick causing his hand to become sticky. “Washing hands and breakfast first. I want your famous pancakes.” You express with a loud kiss to his cheek. Satoru puffs out his chest proudly before helping you off the bed, unbothered by the still wet patches on his slacks. It’s a pleasant reminder, after all.

“Anything for my princess.”

#fae's writing #fae; writing. #fae; satoru. #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #satoru x you #jjk scenario #jjk writing #gojo scenario #gojo smut #satoru smut #gojo satoru #gojo #gojo writing #anime scenario #anime smut #minors dni #jjk x reader #jjk x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #female reader #reader insert #gojo x fem reader #gojo fanfic #satoru fanfic #jjk smut

[jobean12-blog]

Kiss to Kiss

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 855

Summary: Joel is grumpier than usual and the only way to make it better is YOU.

Author's Note: This is a completely self-indulgent fic focused on his neck because not unknown to you all I'm obsessed with it and I could spend the rest of forever kissing his neck. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: soft and sweet fluff with LOTS of kisses, especially neck kiss

PS if you're looking for some yummy posts check out @iamasaddie post HERE. She has so many goodies! Thanks for the inspo sweets!

PPS I sprinkled a couple of yummy gifs in there too just bc 🫠

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

When the front door of your small house creaks open and then slams shut with a bang you turn off the oven and brush off your hands.

“Joel?”

The only response you get is in the form of an acknowledging grunt.

He’s standing in the hallway, one hand on his hip and the other rubbing his jaw. He looks lost in thought.

“What happened?” you ask quietly as you approach.

His brown eyes look up and you can see the lines on his forehead soften at the sight of you. He doesn’t answer and just tracks your movement until you reach him and press yourself closer.

Your fingertips lightly trace his jaw as you study his face.

“Come here,” you tell him before grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the couch.

He follows and promptly sits when you give him a little shove. Immediately, his legs spread wide and he places his elbows on his knees, massaging the bridge of his nose.

You stand between his legs and remove his fingers from his face, waiting until he sits back. Then you rest your hands on his broad shoulders and straddle his waist.

“You want to talk about why you’re so grumpy?”

As you ask the question you gently drag your fingers across his cheek and then the outline of his scruffy jaw. His gaze is trained on your face but when you lean in and press your lips to his neck you can feel him let out a deep exhale.

“Who said I’m grumpy?” he grumbles before his eyes close, dark lashes fluttering against his cheeks and his hands slowly slide up your thighs to settle on your waist.

You delicately drag your nose over his skin, stopping just below his ear to press another soft kiss there. Your lips linger on every inch of his neck and he sinks further into the couch, the tension sliding from his shoulders.

Your fingers toy with the already open collar of his shirt, dipping lower until you reach the first closed button. You pop it open and let your fingertips explore his newly exposed skin while keeping your lips on his neck. You find every little beauty mark and kiss it, nuzzling and breathing him in as you go.

He rests his head along the back of the couch and you take the opportunity to kiss along his collarbone and over the hollow of his throat, feeling the deep vibration of his satisfied hum.

When you reach the other side of his neck you start at his pulse point, nipping softly before trailing kisses all the way up to his other ear.

He slips his fingers under your shirt and digs them into your skin, holding you in place. Your lips graze his cheek until you find his mouth and press a feather light kiss there.

“Darlin’,” he murmurs, his eyes still closed. “More.”

You happily oblige and pepper his face with kisses. His forehead, his nose, his eyelids and every patch of gray that lines his cheeks. Without stopping you dip your head to his neck again and drag your mouth along his skin with light kisses.

Each time your lips pass his mouth he chases them.

He flattens his palms and slides his hands along the curve of your back then gently smooths them back down. You shiver from his touch and smile into his neck.

“That feels nice,” you whisper.

He does it again, keeping you close while you continue pressing your lips to the strong column of his neck. When you gently suck on his skin you can feel his hard swallow. His hands still and he moves you back so he can look you in the eyes.

“No more?” you ask.

“I always want more,” he answers.

“Do you want to tell me why you’re upset first?”

He slowly shakes his head no, tilting his face and gliding his hand up to your neck to bring your lips closer. His palm flattens against your cheek and he rubs his calloused thumb across your temple.

“Later,” he whispers against your mouth. “Talk later.”

His kiss is soft but still holds a desperation you’re all too familiar with and when he takes you in his arms and lays you on the couch, you welcome the comfortable and safe weight of him, wrapping you in his warmth and scent.

He cradles your cheek and brushes his lips across yours tenderly.

“I made cookies…” you tell him softly.

“Is that what I smell?”

His lips curve into a small smile and you quickly kiss them.

“Yep. You want some?”

He buries his face in your neck and runs his nose along your skin and when you feel his lips part to speak you answer for him before he has the chance.

“I know…later,” you say.

His gaze finds yours and he smiles again, his eyes closing when your fingers comb through his hair.

Your lips meet with a tug on his curls and he hums contentedly when you melt into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and forgetting about everything else but him.

@littleseasiren @hiddles-rose @lizette50 @lorilane33 @blackwidownat2814

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller imagine #his neck

[straykeedz]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭 ; 𝐡𝐡𝐣

just a lil drabble i wrote bc hyunjin's live got me in a chokehold, hope you enjoy!

posting this again bc it flopped the first time... don't let it flop!

𝐭𝐰: female anatomy ; kinda sub!hyune ; semi-public sex (one of the boys is mentioned to be in the dorm) ; unprotected piv sex (don't!) ; clit play ; creampie ; brief nipple play ; cum eating ; ♡

𝐰𝐜: 1,7k ;

this is nari's (aka @jilixthinker) review if you even care 🥺:

You step inside the room as soon as “the live has ended” sign pops up on your phone screen. 

He’s sitting there with his phone in his hand, probably checking something or catching up to the memes and other stuff the boys sent him, because he’s giggling, biting on his fingernail. He looks even hotter than he did when he was live, hair all messy and collarbone exposed. 

“Can I come in?” You break the silence, your question followed by a soft knock on the door. 

“Flower, hey,” Hyunjin’s head snaps up in your direction and a smile spreads on his beautiful features, “sure you can. Did you watch the live?”

You nod, catching him a little off guard when you sit down on his knees - well, you’re not exactly sitting on him, you’re practically mounting him, your knees on each side of his waist. He puts his phone away immediately. “I did,” you murmur, running your fingers up and down his exposed forearms, then his wrists, then intertwining your fingers together. “You were cute.”

Hyunjin blushes a little, he always does whenever you compliment him, your pretty boy. 

“I was?” He asks, flustered, avoiding your gaze. You let go of his hands and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you slightly closer. 

“Hm-mh,” you hum, gaze dropping to where his silver necklace rests on his exposed clavicle. “Very cute,” you murmur, placing a kiss on his jawline, your lips brushing the hint of spiky beard that is slowly starting to grow back, “but also very sexy.” You kiss his neck and Hyunjin, beneath you, shivers. 

“S-Sexy?” He swallows the lump in his throat, tightening the grip on your waist, “but… I wasn’t doing anything, flower.”

You huff against his skin, leaving an open-mouthed kiss on his exposed collarbone. “Please,” you roll your eyes at him even though he can’t see you, “all the lip biting, hm? And the running your hand through your hair?”

Hyunjin gasps when you suck on his neck. “I wasn’t trying to be sexy.”

“Pf, sure.”

You take your time kissing his neck, licking the soft skin until you capture his heavy, silver necklace between your teeth. Your fingers toy with the ends of Hyunjin’s hair, tugging at it slightly, and he moans out loud while you feel him getting hard right between your legs. Just like you planned. You roll your hips to grind on his visible erection, and Hyunjin’s hands grip your hips a bit tighter as if to stop you. 

“We shouldn’t be here. One of the boys could burst in anytime. Let’s go to my room.”

“But I wanna have my fun here,” you bite his shoulder, “where everyone could interrupt us any moment. See you all whiny and desperate for me, how you beg and yearn for my touch.”

Hyunjin whimpers. “What’s gotten into you?” He doesn’t protest when you slip your hand under his oversized sweatshirt, your fingers brushing his navel and happy trail until they reach the button of his grey jeans. 

“You. You’re a tease, and you know it,” you undo the button and pull down the zipper. “Got me all wet and hot with your… whatever the hell it was. Had to press my thighs together to stop myself from shaving my hand down my pants, but I’m pretty sure Jisung figured out something was up with me.”

“Jisung?” Hyunjin squeezes your ass, giving in to his instincts. 

“Hm, we were watching tiktoks together,” you keep kissing his neck. “This,” you tug at his sweatshirt, “off. Now.”

He nods. “Okay, okay.”

You reluctantly pull away from him, allowing Hyunjin to cross his arms over his torso and pull his sweater off, letting it fall on the floor without a care in the world. He’s not wearing anything underneath it, not even the slutty tank tops they always wear. You’re met with the sight of his bare torso and his nipples, hard due to the cold temperature in the room - it’s okay, it’ll get hot eventually. The silver necklace, which resembles of a chain, kind of makes him look like a bad boy. Had he kept his eyebrow piercing on, he’d look like he came straight out of a punk rock band - messy hair and everything. 

“Always so obedient…” you capture his swollen lips in a quick kiss, “be good for me now and take your cock out.”

He whines when you get up, only to pull your pajama shorts down your legs together with your underwear. You don’t take off your t-shirt, though - one of Hyunjin’s t-shirts, actually, and your favorite one. He fidgets with his jeans, lifting his body from the chair to slide them down his legs, just enough to free his hard cock and twitching balls. 

“Now wet it.”

He spits on his palm and jerks his cock off a couple of times, making sure there’s his saliva all over it. Then, you get on top of him once again and you start rubbing yourself on his length, and he’s confused. “You’re not taking this off?” He tugs at the t-shirt. You shake your head as a no, continuing to rub your clit on the tip of his cock. “But I wanna see your tits…” he kind of pouts. Cute. 

“Aw,  sweetheart…” you lift your hips to position his cockhead at your entrance, “not tonight. ‘M putting it in now, try not to cum after ten seconds this time, hm?” You tease him, and he rolls his eyes. 

“It happened once, and you’d been teasing me for- shit,” Hyunjin pants when you sink onto his length slowly. He grips your hips so tight the tips of his fingers turn white. 

“It happened twice,” your pussy swallows him wholly, his length filling you up just nice. Hyunjin pouts.  “’t’s okay, though. ’s cute how whipped you are for me.”

“And you’re not whipped for me?”

You giggle at that. “Yeah, very much,” you lift your hips again, and Hyunjin gasps, “enough with the talking now. Be good and take it,” you ease yourself onto his length slowly, the way he likes it. “And try to be quiet. Jisung’s still in the living room.”

Easier said than done, Hyunjin thinks. In fact, he has to bite on his lip so hard he can almost taste blood in his mouth to hold back his moans and whimpers and all kinds of sounds that are threatening to escape his mouth. 

“Please, just… let me see them,” he begs. He’s referring to your tits. “Need to see them so bad.”

“Nuh-uh,” you shake your head, moving up and down his length again and again and again. 

“Please,” he whines. 

“Let’s make a pact,” you tell him, rolling your hips and rubbing your clit against his skin - it’s not enough to get you off, but it feels nice nonetheless. “I’ll show you my tits, but you can’t touch them. If you touch them, you won’t be cumming.”

“What?”

“Thought you wanted to see them so bad,” you quote him. “Too ba-“

“Fine. Fine, just- lemme see them,” he whimpers trying to put off his already impending orgasm. His eyes widen comically when you take your shirt off and he sees your tits bounce. Oh, how is he supposed to fight the urge to touch them, to wrap his lips around your nipples? 

“You love my tits so much, don’t you, sweetheart?” You latch your lips on his neck, moving even faster as if to torture him. You’re pretty sure you’re breaking some physics law right now, fucking on a chair like there’s no tomorrow. 

Hyunjin nods. “You’re the pretties woman I’ve ever seen. The prettiest flower.”

You love it when he praises you and worships you - Hyunjin treats you nothing but the goddess you are, and he always makes you feel incredibly sexy and hot. And you may or may not have a praise kink, so his words have you getting even wetter - if you close your eyes and focus, you can almost taste your orgasm. 

“Fuck. Shit, do that thing again,” you tell him, breath becoming quicker, “with your fingers.” Hyunjin runs his hand through his hair, disheveling it in the sexiest way he knows. You ride him faster. You wrap your fingers around his necklace and pull slightly, allowing Hyunjin to get closer so you can kiss him. His lips suppress all of your moans. “Yeah, yeah, that’s it. ‘M gonna cum. Rub my clit.”

He uses the pad of his thumb to get you off, wetting it with the mixture of his saliva and your juices that’s coating his cock. He manages to get you off in seconds, and when you eventually cum, you hide your face in the crook of his neck and bite on his necklace as you pant, continuing to ride him as you try to come off your orgasm. 

“Can I too? Need- need to cum,” he whines pathetically. 

You pull back only to look him in the eye. “Fill me up.” 

He shivers, and doesn’t even have the time to say anything else, because his orgasm washes all over him in a matter of instants, catching him by surprise. And since he already came, it can’t hurt to infringe your pact, right? So he shoves his face in your chest and stuffs his mouth with one of your nipples, starting to suck on it desperately, running his hot tongue all over it. 

“Insatiable,” you comment with a sigh, shaking your head. “Thought we agreed on something. Might have to teach my sweetheart a lesson.”

He lets go of your nipple, his eyes meeting yours - he looks completely fucked out. He tilts his head to the side, not fully grasping what you mean. You lift your hips just enough to allow his cum to spill out of your hole, then bring your fingers to your pussy to coat them in his sperm. He gave you a generous load. 

“Open up,” you bite your lip, tapping Hyunjin’s mouth with your cum-coated fingers. He looks at you with a surprised look on his face. “What? Thought you liked having your mouth stuffed. Now be good and taste yourself, hm?”

He opens his mouth, and you dip the tip of your fingers inside - just the tip for now, watching mesmerised the way his own sperm falls on his tongue and fills his mouth. He winces, probably because he dislikes the taste, or maybe because he likes it. You push your fingers inside by another inch, he wraps his lips around them. 

“Good boy, lick ‘em clean,” you praise him, and he whimpers. “And when you’re done with my fingers, there’s a crempied pussy for you to eat.”

-> 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞.

-> 𝐦𝐲 ☕️

#stray kids smut #stray kids masterlist #stray kids fanfic #skz smut #skz masterlist #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin fic #hyunjin fanfic #hwang hyunjin hard hours #hwang hyunjin hard thoughts #hyunjin hard thoughts #hyunjin hard hours #hwang hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin x reader smut #hyunjin x you #stray kids fic #stray kids hard thoughts #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours

[monarchberrysblog]

‘𝔴𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤’ 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲 | 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔱𝔴𝔬

Summary: Small acts of service Miguel would provide to his favorite waitress

Content Warning: MUTUAL PINNING BITCHES HAHA. Two idiots in love, slow-ass burn. It is the same type of burn where you get a sunburn, and you have to peel away the dead skin off of you slowly.

Word Count: 😏 (jk, it's +1.7k)

Author’s Note: THANK YOU FOR 200+ NOTES FOR ‘WAITING’ FOR YOU OMG 🥹 I honestly thought it would flop, but seeing you guys enjoy it warms my heart up. Once again, thank you all. You all mean the world to me 😚🩷

← Part One (‘waiting’ for you)

→ Part Three (‘waiting’ for you)

To my new followers, thank you <3 💌

“Man, I'm so hungry,” Jess sighed to you. The woman looked over to you while adjusting her golden hoop earrings. “Girl, have you had the time to take a break and eat?” You questioned her, seeing the exhausted, sickly look on your face. “No, ever since that new manager, Alex, he's been on our asses about managing our time.” You massaged your temples slowly before leaning against the hostess's stand. “I get you, my headaches have been awful…” You mumbled to her.

As Jess stood at the hostess stand, she heard the deep voice of the restaurant owner echoing through the space. "If you have the time to lean, you have time to clean!" he bellowed, causing her to quickly abandon her post and hurry along with attending to her tables.

From a distance, you noticed the manager eyeing her sternly, and you spoke up in defense of the new, pregnant employee. "Take it easy on her," you implored, hoping to ease the situation. As you watched from afar, you could see that she struggled to keep up with the job demands. “You know what? I don't appreciate the talking back. Instead of an hour break, you're down to thirty minutes.” Alex sneered.

Your mouth opened agape, wanting to argue back. But you held back instead while you looked at Alex and walked away. “Thank you,” He sneered once again while walking away.

Way to go. You just had to talk back. Son of a bitch, I can't even take a proper break.

A long sigh escaped before Miguel made his way to the hostess stand where you were, resting half of your body on the counter, and a long sigh escaped from you, deep from the gut. “Hey, I just wanted to check how many reservations we have left for today.” He trailed off, seeing how hunched over you were on the counter.

“Yeah, let me just see…” You sat up quickly, allowing your hair to look a little messy. It was a cute sight for Miguel. It made it look like you just woke up from bed. Now seeing that, the man began to wonder how you looked in the morning, in his bed, under HIS blankets, in his SHIRTS—

"The manager informed me that we have five more reservations for tonight," you interjected, stealing his attention from the little fantasy he imagined. A yawn escaped your lips as you glanced at the list, betraying the exhaustion you felt from the long day. “Long day?” Miguel questions you. “Yeah, then Alex just cut my break short. He got mad that I defended Jess.” You grumbled.

“Jess… Jess…” He repeated before he turned to you. “The pregnant one, right?” You quirked a brow up by the way he memorized the newly hired waitress. “You know, you can't associate her being the pregnant one all the time; she's about to pop soon.”

“Sorry, I call it by the way I see it.”

“…touché.” You nodded before you put the reservation list away. A big, awkward silence fills between the two of you. “So, what do you associate me with?” You asked eagerly.

Miguel made a dismissive sound with his lips and then momentarily paused as if thinking. "I don't associate you with anything, to be fair," He finally said. You furrowed your brows, feeling a bit confused. "What? What do you mean?!" You exclaimed with a hint of annoyance in your tone.

“You're just there; not much to say about it.”

“What do you mean? We work on almost all shifts together!” You argued before Miguel left for the kitchen.

The man had a particular association with you - he didn't want to say it out loud.

/

Alex is a hard ass.

While waiting for your lunch break and assisting your tables, you decided to help the bellboy, Miles, wipe some tables down since the restaurant fell into some downtime. But when Alex saw, a scowl formed.

“It's Miles’ job to wipe tables down. Your job is to greet guests and create reservation lists.” Alex hissed. “I understand, sir, but Miles needed help, and it's a dead hour at the restaurant now and—” Alex raises a hand, pausing you. “No, I've heard enough; you'll have a fifteen-minute break instead.”

Oh, hell no, he didn't.

“And you can't legally do that. That's forced labor; look it up.”

Alex turns to you, showing anger in his expression. You could already see the premature wrinkles on his forehead. Wanting to say something snarky about the thirty-year-old to smile every once in a while, you stopped yourself.“You know what? We can fix that attitude by… taking away your employee discount for today.”

You looked at Alex with furrowed brows and your mouth slightly agape. “Thank you for understanding.” Alex walked off, and as soon he was no longer in sight, a sense of anger entered your body. You stormed back to the hostess stand, feeling steam escaping your body.

Talking back to him in a manner like that? What the hell is wrong with me?

You grabbed the messily piled menus and straightened them out, somewhat slamming the menus down on the hostess stand. “Easy there.” You looked at the voice and saw it was none other than Gabriel, another waiter who came in during the weekends and holidays. Rolling your eyes, you huffed in anger and leaned against the counter.

“I heard what went down.”

“What else is there to hear, Gabriel?”

You shooed him away from the stand when new customers entered the restaurant. After being pushed around by your clientele on where they wanted to sit instead of where you picked for them, you seated them and stormed off, still ticked off by Alex. You sat at the hostess stand, groaned in frustration, and realized that Gabriel was still there. “What?” You snarled.

“I heard what went down.”

“Yes, you told me that minutes ago.”

Gabriel furrowed his brows for a moment and sighed. “Listen, we can share my lunch…” Gabriel suggested while you hastily cleaned up the stand in an angered manner. “I ordered too many portions, and it hasn't been touched—” You turned to him quickly, almost to the point where it made the grad student jump in fear.

“Are you asking me out for dinner?” You ask him, poking fun at the bashful young man. “Yeah, I mean—” The sound of a food container landing on the counter made the two of you see Miles leaving it behind. “Miguel told me to leave this for you,” Miles says with a simple shrug before returning to the dining area. “Messed-up order. He didn't want it to go to waste.”

You opened the container, and the sound of a sizzling steak with sauteed onions, topped with melting pepper jack cheese. The smell of fresh, cooked veggies and mashed potatoes makes your mouth water. While looking around for Alex, you hid the container in one of the cubbies behind the stand.

“Guess you don't have to invite me for dinner after all.” You shrug to Gabriel before you run off to help the next customers who enter the restaurant.

/

9:37pm

The humid air filled the outside as you held your phone close, waiting for your Uber to arrive. The sound of the restaurant door opening and closing greeted your ears until you two young college students walked past you, showing the two lovebirds happy with each other’s company. 

Must be nice…

A vibration from your hand brought you back to reality and caused you to look at the mobile device. “Your Uber has canceled.” 

What.

You glared at the mobile device before a groan of frustration escaped from the back of your throat. “Damn it!” You groaned before you looked to your left, seeing the busy sidewalk of pedestrians. “That’s just great…” Almost as if life hated you a little bit more than usual, a couple of raindrops landed on you, soon turning into a downpour of rain landing on everyone else. “Oh lovely, thank god…” You grumbled before stepping out to the sidewalk and walking home through the rain. The cool rainwater felt surprisingly calm and relaxing, even though it probably had infectious diseases. 

You walked along the sidewalk, feeling the refreshing sprinkle of rain on your skin. As the raindrops started to fall more heavily, you realized you had forgotten your umbrella. Just then, you felt a tap on your shoulder, making you turn around. You were greeted by a tall, hooded figure standing beside you. You squinted through the rain to see his face, but the hood obscured most of it. The stranger gave you an umbrella, and you gratefully accepted it. Before you could thank him, the stranger walked ahead and bowed his head as he looked at the pavement.

You continued to squint through the rain, wanting to see who this generous man was, but to no avail.

/

Miguel stepped into his small, cozy apartment, dropping his soaking jacket on his sofa, not caring about the soaking fabric soaking the leather. A small mewl greeted him. A tabby marmalade cat soon jumped onto the couch and kneaded the cushions. The cat meowed out loud once again, soon looking up at Miguel with its wide brown eyes. "Hola, Lyla..." He sighed at the orangy cat before taking off his soaked clothes and throwing them to the side into a laundry bin.

While changing his work clothes in his bedroom, the marmalade cat jumped off the couch and reached the front door, soon pawing at an umbrella stand. The cat continued doing this until Miguel stepped out of his bedroom in sweats and slippers. "Lyla," Miguel paused as soon as the feline pawed at the umbrella stand. The cat continued to mewl out, unfamiliar with the missing umbrella her owner always brought home.

"Come on, I'll cook you a fish fillet." Miguel sighed, soon grabbing the tabby and moving her away from the door. A sniffle escaped from the man as he and Lyla made their way to the kitchen.

/Bonus Scene/

"Good morning-" You happily greeted but paused the greeting and got a jaw-dropping view before you. "Morning..." Miguel sniffled. His hair had little raindrops decorating his dark hair, with some bags under his eyes. What a sight to see... The sound of someone entering the workplace interrupted your train of thought. "Damn, Miguel. You look..." Peter greeted his coworker as he stepped into the restaurant and took off his coat that shielded him from the rain. "Not that great." Peter nervously greeted the executive chef. "You don't think I know that?" The aggravated man grumbled before he took off his coat and mumbled under his breath.

"I think I'm falling in love with someone, and it's a bad idea, right?"

Tag list:

(Do y'all think that the slow burn ended? Think again...)

@miguelzslvtz @safixiovi @rosegnome @leafyturtle @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @famouscattale @soymiguelsesposa @tryhardingatlife @huniedeux @peachey-pie @itswhateversworld

(I suck at tagging, so if you didn't get tagged, I'm sorry. I suck at using tumblr)

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel fanfic #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel fluff

[koolades-world]

I was just wondering if you could write for the demon brothers (and undateables if you want) to MC coming back after leaving Devildom for a year (or any long period of time), and they are unrecognizable to the brothers (and/or undateables). Like they had a glow up and came back looking different to where they are unrecognizable <33

I love reading your work it makes my day. Everyday after work I come home and read your posts, really lightens my mood 🫶🏼

hi!! of course!

I'm so happy to hear that you like my work!!! makes all my writing worth it, hope you enjoy this one especially!

Mc who had a glow up!

Lucifer

looks a little surprised at first

however, he continues as if everything was normal

later, he lets you know he likes your new look subtly

never directly addresses it, but you notices his eyes linger on you until he notices you're looking at him

Mammon

tries to pretend like nothing has changed but you can see the gears turning in his head

it's funny to watch him struggle to be cool about it

if you mention it, he freezes and begin to protest as he begins to turn bright red

once he snaps out of it, he begins trying to walk away but probably runs into a wall

Levi

not even trying to hide how shocked he is

unusually confident and he lets you know he likes your new look

he admits for a second, he didn't recognize you

however, he's just happy to have his Henry back and asks when you have time to play games with him in person, instead of online

Satan

pretends like he doesn't know you at first to mess with you

"and who's this gorgeous human standing in the living room?" "SATAN"

you're still the same Mc under the new look, so he's relieved to finally have some one around who actually took the time to try and understand him

takes you out to one of his big gatherings to keep you all to himself and make everyone jelous

Asmo

immediately asks every questions that pops into his head, such as your new skin care routine and if he can do it too

if you haven't done much, he's convinced you're hiding some life changing secret from him but lets it go

posts about your return on Devilgram which causes you to get a new surge of followers

expect a shopping spree and a fun photoshoot afterwards

Beel

for a second, he actually didn't recognize you

but, as soon as he felt the pact flare up, he was happy to be reunited

another brother who doesn't really care since you're the same to him

wants to celebrate with a dinner, just like last time you were in the Devildom

Belphie

teases you a little about small things

however, lets you know he actually likes the way you look now

as long as you can still nap together, he's happy

expect lots of kisses, not because he likes the new you better, btu because he's happy to have you back

#obey me #obey me! #obey me satan #obey me x reader #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me levi #obey me lucifer #obey me belphie #obey me mammon #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me mc

[springalwayscomes]

Closer

Closer (Teaser) Closer: Too Close (Teaser) Masterlist Taglist

Plot: To have each other close is something that you both always wanted, in a way or another. It’s just that… close is not close enough anymore for Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Domestic, Humor, Friends to Lovers

Wordcount: 27k

Content Warning: mentions of masturbation, dirty talk, swearing, pining, minor injury, praise, cunnilingus, cum eating, unprotected sex, mentions of blowjob, masturbation, hand job, dry humping, multiple orgasms, love making, creampie 

Author’s Note: Hello! I had the first line of this fic stuck in my notes for a while, it stayed there without really going anywhere, then inspiration came and the miracle happened in a few days. I like this so much so I hope you will like it too! There are some parts that just do things to my heart, one of these is inspired by Gaelforce. I don’t know if you follow him but if you do you sure will realise when you’ll get there!

Let me know what you think about it, again I hope you’ll like it!💜

If you want to be tagged in my taglis to get notified when my other works will come out let me know here, under this post, with a message or an ask. Feel free to talk to me for whatever, I always appreciate your messages!🫶🏻💜

Jungkook walked in on you using your vibrator as a microphone when you were nineteen, lipsynching as if your life depended on it. 

He had laughed so fucking loud that time that you still feel your ears grow red when you think about it. 

He has teased you for it from the moment it happened, still does it now.

Back then, it was so freaking hilarious he would bring it up every time you were too mad at him, to make you laugh it off and let go of the heavy atmosphere creating between you every time you used to fight as teenagers. 

Five years afterwards, as of now, he still thinks about it from time to time. It makes him giggle when he’s in the middle of a meeting at work, when he has a stressful day, when he’s just laying in bed with his head empty. Usually, that would be the case. Now that you’re sitting on his couch with a bag of pop corns squished in your hands while the tv is playing though, is a new circumstance. 

«What are you laughing at? You’re so loud» you wince at him, monotone and annoyed.

He licks his lips, shaking his head.

«Your vibrator still haunts me» 

It takes you less than two seconds to realise what he’s talking about. 

«You’re so annoying. Should I bring up the time you farted out loud in class too?»

«That’s not the same,» he laughs «I told you that I wasn’t feeling good but you insisted on going to class anyway»

«You didn’t go for three days straight-» you fight back, stopping yourself when the camera points on Park Seojun. 

«Gosh, this man. I’m gonna marry him someday» you sigh dreamily. Jungkook snorts.

«Cause I was sick?» he opens the fridge.

«You drank with Jin the night before. You shouldn’t drink if you’re sick. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t hold it until class was over»

«You’re so noisy» he rummages through the shelves, finally finding the bowl of strawberries he was looking for.

«Want some?»

You quickly glance at him over the counter, pop corns stuffing your mouth full.

«No, thanks. I’m full with these»

He gets a spoon from the drawer, walking back to the sofa. 

«The face you made when I walked in is still funnier than-»

«When you farted in front of the class?» you cut him off, trying to get some sense in his head.

«Hell, yeah» he laughs.

«You literally-»

«Okay, now stop!» you slap his ass before he gets a chance to sit down.

«Oh, yes keep going» he fakes a moan. You literally want to slap him hard enough to make him stop being an idiot, but you have to hold yourself back.

«Just shut up and let me see Park Seojun» you shake your head. Jungkook gets a spoonful of strawberries into his mouth, eyes falling on the screen and eyebrows pinched together.

It’s a Saturday, thanks God the both of you don’t work on weekends, so usually you both find yourself on the sofa, watching a movie or just messing around. You’ve known each other since you were sixteen, so to say that you’re pretty comfortable with each other is an understatement. Even when you first met him, the nineteen years old Jungkook never made you feel uneasy. You were inseparable. Best friends that used to sleep at each other’s place every three to four days because you were just used to it. It was natural, so natural that a lot of the people around you thought you were a couple. Back then, you would grimace and shake your head vividly, not even giving it a thought. Jungkook would laugh it off, heart beating loudly in his chest every time anyone made him imagine how it would’ve been. 

«Do you still have it?» he asks, voice low as he stares at the screen.

«What?» you murmur. He doesn’t answer, his spoon scraping against the plastic of the bowl to get as much strawberries as he can into his mouth. He munches on them, gulping down and enjoying the sweet taste.

«That vibrator» 

«Jungkook! What kind of question is that?» you stop the drama, his thigh getting hit by the remote.

«I was just asking!» he raises his hands as to make sure you understand he meant no harm, the bowl now sitting on his lap.

«Why would you ask that?» your tone makes his eyes smile first, as he always does. His eyes smile first, then his lips just follow.

«Why are you so sensitive about it? I won’t ask, but we both know you still use it» he gets up from the couch, getting to the sink to put the empty bawl inside. 

«We say filthier things when we’re in bed!» he goes on from where he’s standing at. Your head is going to explode. It’s at times like this that you rethink about your life choices. From being sixteen and dumb, until you’re twenty four and ending up with sleeping with your best friend. 

«In bed! Leave those for when we’re in bed!» you fight back, another pop corn getting shoved into your mouth.

«Okay,» he appears by your side «wanna go to bed so I can ask you?» 

You can’t believe him. 

«Jungkook!» he laughs, bright and out loud, crystal clear. It makes your insides twist and turn with the need of shutting him up.

It’s not like it’s a everyday thing, sleeping together. It just happened three times, out of the blue. You both agreed that it’s not something big, something that will change your bond or friendship, it’s just something that… you both needed? In those moments, you guess. Maybe mentally? However you try to justify it, the answer is always the same: nothing is going to change between you. It’s just sex. But for the sake of your relationship, you try to keep it where it belongs: in bed. Talking about such things outside can be confusing, it can lead your friendship too places you don’t want it to be. You love Jungkook, as your friend. Being too sexual won’t lead to good places, just a fucked up friendship and a fuckbuddy living with you.  So you both better keep your minds at bay, don’t pass the limits of friendship at least when you can.

«I’m going to get a shower» you announce, shutting the tv and getting up from the couch. His eyes are questioning, but you just tap his shoulder. 

«Put this away, please?» you hand the pop corns to Jungkook. He grabs the bag. 

«Why?» you’re already almost out of the living room when he asks.

«I’m going out tonight!» 

«With the girls?» he raises his voice a bit to make you hear him from the other room, as he looks for a peg in the drawer to close the popcorns.

«Yeah, it’s Eunji’s birthday!» you remind him. Jungkook winces, he knows what that means. You will come back home late, and you’ll end up being awake until morning cause you hate going to clubs and will feel like you have to make up for the six hours you lost in there. You still do it, for your friends, but it’s something that you don’t enjoy a lot. If you add the fact that you don’t actually drink, that makes it all even worse. 

«What about Jimin?» he’s out of your bedroom door, you can hear it from how close his voice sounds. Thank god he has a good sense of privacy, cause you’re naked. 

«They were together the whole day, tonight is girl’s night» you answer. Jungkook nods, telling himself he’s going to ask him to come over later.

«I’m taking a shower now!» you let him know the conversation is going to end, already walking to your bathroom.

«She said it’s girls’ night, so» Jimin’s munching on a chicken’s wing with so much eagerness it looks like he hasn’t been eating for a week. 

Namjoon nods at him, getting a beer from the fridge. 

«You’ve been together the whole day, though» 

«I know» he answers, «what can I do if I want to spend every second with her?»

«I feel like I’m gonna throw up» Yoongi murmurs from beside him, giving him the most disgusted glance ever. Jungkook laughs.

«What have you all been up to lately?» 

Hoseok sits on the carpet, ready to start eating as he waits for the group’s answer. 

Jin shrugs.

«Just work. The restaurant is always full, I think I might die from overworking»

«Listen to him bragging» Taehyung pats his hyung’s shoulder.

«I’m not! It’s going well, but it’s fucking tiring! Last night I came home to Hana and…  nnghh, why am I so dumb?» he closes his eyes, breathing through his teeth. 

«What happened?» Jungkook asks.

«She’d kill me if she knew I told you this,» he gulps a big sip of beer down «you have to promise me it won’t slip out of your dead-ass mouths»

«When did we ever say-»

«That time?» Yoongi’s question gets cut off, Jin’s eyes big as they remind him of what happened last time.

«It wasn’t me! It was Tae!» 

«Yah, I didn’t do it on purpose» he fights, holding back a laughter.

«Alright, stop. Just don’t make it happen again» Seokjin gives him a fiery glance.

«She was like, really in the mood and… I told her I would take a shower and then go to bed with her but my muscles were so sore I decided to run a bath. I felt asleep. She waited up for me for a whole hour,» he takes a bite from the chicken «she was… god, what did I do? I was so tired I didn’t do it on purpose but she felt rejected or humiliated I guess… I’m such a-»

«Hyung, you were just tired» Jungkook stops his rant. Namjoon nods.

«You should talk to her»

«I didn’t get the chance, she left earlier this morning and didn’t answer my texts all day» he answers, eyes gloomy as he pours himself another glass of beer. 

«Wait for her up, she’ll come back after they are done with the club» Yoongi proposes. Jin nods.

«What about you?» he asks.

«I’m good» he smiles. A little too much, actually. It’s too bright, too much. 

«You’re good?» Hoseok smiles at him, already knowing that there’s something else. There has to be, with him smiling like that.

«Really good» he echoes. 

At this point, Jin hits his shoulder.

«Yah, give us the good stuff!» 

The music in the background fills the air as Yoongi ponders on how to explain what’s happening in his life at the moment, a big smile taking over his features. 

«I’m…» he smiles again «I’m going to be a dad» 

«What?!» it’s a scream that comes out loud, the same word coming from every single person present. The man nods, eyes teary. It makes Jungkook’s heart squeeze, to see his hyung so happy. The room is filled with happiness, as they all proceed to ask questions, hugs and congratulations getting shared. After all, he and Hyunjoo have been trying for the last year. The night is filled just like that, with jokes and laughs until Jin and Jimin decide that it’s time to go back home to wait for their girlfriends, the others deciding to stay until you will be back to say hello and goodbye to Jungkook. 

It’s when the bell rings that they know that something is definitely weird. The knock on the door too sounds eager for you, and when Jungkook gets up to open it what they hear right after makes their eyes shoot right open.

«Fuck, are you drunk? Who took you home? Why did you drink?»

«Leave me alone» you stutter as you try to walk inside, Jungkook’s arm getting to your waist. You can’t even stand, how much did you drink? 

«Who took you home?» to say he sounds worried sick is an understatement.

«Some guy with a really pretty dick» you laugh. Taehyung gets up, everyone following after him. They never saw you drunk, simply because you just don’t drink. You don’t like the taste of alcohol, can’t even gulp down a sip of beer properly without having to go brush your teeth, apart from the fact that you can’t hold it. Half of a glass is enough to make you the drunkest version of yourself; apparently now it’s not like that anymore.

«What?» the shock from seeing you like this makes Jungkook hold his words back, first he needs to make you sit somewhere.

«Grab a wet towel, or just… water, give me water!» he orders around. Someone gives him just what he asked for, and he doesnt even spend time in thanking them as he wipes the makeup off from your face. 

«Water» Yoongi gives him a glass.

«Why- you’re here! Hello!» you wave to your friends, Taehyung smiling at you. 

«My bestest friend! Tae, I missed you» you whine, grabby hands reach for his wrist, making him sit next to you.

«Yah! I’m your bestest friend!» Jungkook shakes his head.

«I missed you too» Taehyung scoffs, your head falling on his shoulder. Jungkook hisses, it’s harder to get your makeup off when half of your face is squashed like this.

«Why did you drink so much?» Taehyung tries.

«I was… feeling left out? I can’t remeber well» you murmur, chuckles coming out as you decide it’s time to mess with Jungkook. Every time he tries to wipe a part of your face, you just turn in the opposite direction.

«Will you stay still?» he shakes his head, annoyed.

«You’re a pain in the ass, Jungkook. I hate you»

«I think it’s better if you go home, she needs a shower» Jungkook turns to face Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok. They look pretty shocked, but worry is weighting down on them more.

«Are you sure? We can help you?» Hoseok tries, but he shakes his head again.

«It’s fine, I got this» 

«Don’t go! Why are you kicking them out! So annoying» you fight, holding Taehyung’s arm tighter.

«I’m not kicking them out, but you need to shower and get changed and they- just…» he turns again «Don’t worry, just go home and rest. I got this» he repeats.

It’s 5.43 am. And it’s so frustrating that you’re laying by his side, sleeping, while his eyes are wide open. 

You might not feel good, so it’s better anyway, he tells himself.

Jungkook is annoyed. A lot, actually. Why, he doesn’t get it. Your words echo in his mind, making him bite on the inside of his cheek when he should be resting.

Did you sleep with someone? It very much sounded like it. A really pretty dick? He scoffs. The adjective sounds almost out of place, still he feels his insides burning even hotter. He wants to ask you right now, but you’re sleeping. Again, he should be too, actually. 

He decides it’s better if he sleeps on the sofa, you’re asleep anyway, so you won’t make a fuss about it. He lifts the covers, gently and slowly, then sits on the bed, a leg already out and his foot laying on the ground. The cold makes him wince.

«Don’t go» you hold his wrist, digits caressing his skin. 

«Stay with me,» you plead «I’m not feeling good» 

His defences fall down instantly. It’s hard not to succumb when you’re murmuring against him. He does it without you having to ask twice, his foot back under the warm covers.

«Hold me?» you ask. It’s low, sweet and sleepy, and he guesses you’re still drunk but he doesn’t care. His arms wrap around you and hold you close, your head lays on his chest as you would do after having sex. Jungkook holds his breath and swears to himself, he needs to slow down his heartbeat because it seems like his heart is going to combust. 

«I don’t hate you,» your voice is faint

«I’m sorry I told you I hate you, Kookie»

«It’s okay» he caresses your hair, trying to make you relax.

«Just get some sleep» he can’t hold himself back, not when you’re laying in his arms so defenceless and looking so frail and delicate. His lips land on your forehead, soft and gentle, incredibly caring. You don’t say anything though, you’re already asleep.

«Alright, what is it?» Taehyung snaps at him, eyes fixed on the maknae. Jin nods, eyebrows high.

«Nothing» Jungkook shrugs, going back to stare at the screen. The movie isn’t playing, stopped by Taehyung. 

«It doesn’t seem like nothing» he answers back. 

Yoongi taps Jungkook’s shoulder.

«Tell it to Yoongi hyung?» he smiles. 

Jungkook scoffs. It’s something he used to tell him when he was younger, it would reassure him to know that there was someone older than him to relay on and to count on. Now, though, Yoongi can’t do anything about it.

«I’m your hyung too» Taehyung pats his other shoulder.

«Me too» Jimin adds.

«We’re all older, we got it» Namjoon looks at the two who are smiling wide at Jungkook.

«Talk to us? We could help» he prompts. 

«I just… I don’t know» he doesn’t know where to start from. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling so bothered about it, it shouldn’t be such a big deal.

«I don’t know… why?»

«What? We can’t understand like this» the confusion is clear on Hoseok’s features.

Jungkook sighs, deep and shaky, head falling on the cushion of the couch.

«I’ve been sleeping with someone» he declares, bringing the back of his hand on his eyes. 

«What?» it’s Jimin and Jin, ready to ask why he didn’t tell them. Yoongi glares at them in a second, shutting them up before they even have the chance to start.

«And?» he coos.

«And- she… slept with someone else» he adds. It’s blurry, and the situation is not clear, but just seeing Jungkook like this makes all of them on the edge.

«Are you in a relationship? Or you just-»

«We’re not» he answers Namjoon.

«We’re not, but…» he doesn’t finish. 

He can’t believe himself. What the hell is this about? It’s not like you agreed on being exclusive, you didn’t even talk too much about what happened, it just happened, three fucking times. And god, how fucking good it was. The best sex he’s ever had. Fuck, he didn’t even think about someone else after sleeping with you. 

Maybe it wasn’t the smartest of choices since he’s been fighting against his feelings for six years, but until now they were pretty good. He dated, you dated, he kept them at bay and they didn’t get in the way. 

«You wish you were» Yoongi finishes his sentence.

Silence fills the air. Jungkook feels like he’s going to throw up. You wish you were, it’s the only thing playing in his head. He wishes you were. That’s the point, that’s the fucking point. He wishes you’d see in him what he’s been seeing in you for all these years, he wishes you’d crave his touch just like he craves yours, in the same way. He wishes you could share more than just a home and bills, friendship and bags of popcorns. He wishes for more, and fuck, he’s been so fucking stupid all along to think that a little taste couldn’t do too bad, to think that he could have at least that much.

«Have you talked to her?» Jin tries. Jungkook shakes his head, the back of his hand still pressed against his eyes.

«Why don’t you try?»

«Why would I? We’re friends»

«Fuckbuddies?» Jimin asks «How can you be-» Taehyung slaps him on the neck. A faint moan coming out of his friend’s lips.

«Shut up»

«No, friends. We’re friends» he slightly raises his voice on the last word, to make it clear. 

Yoongi’s eyes narrow.

«You mean you… you’ve been sleeping together but you’re friends?» 

«Isn’t it clear?» Jin looks at him like Yoongi has two heads, eyes trying to suggest something that no one gets. His head moves as to beckon him to something that’s right in front of him, Yoongi’s expression still clueless. Then, he gets it.

«Y/n! Is it Y/n? What the hell Jungkook!» he breaks out. Everyone’s eyes shot right open, Jungkook’s hand falling on his lap as he realises that there’s no way back. 

«When? Why?»

«It just… happened» he sighs, eyes closing again. 

«When?» Taehyung can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

«Four months ago,» he murmurs «the first time»

«How many times? Oh, my god» Jin wants to know everything, every little detail. Not sexually, it would be awkward since you’re his friend, but every thing he can, he has to know.

«Three» 

«Three?» He repeats.

«Three times,» Jungkook says again «I don’t know what to-»

«Is it because of the guy with the pretty dick?» Yoongi asks. Jungkook tilts his head, glaring at his hyung. 

«Okay, it is»

«Talk to her» Hoseok prompts but he only gets a big, steady shake of the maknae’s head.

«She was drunk. Do you know what you’re doing? Like, have you talked about it at least? Are you exclusive with each other?»

«We didn’t, and I guess we’re not» Jungkook answers Jin, not really in the mood for all of his questions.

«Jungkook, you have to-»

His phone rings, cutting Hoseok off. Your name comes up on the screen, everyone’s eyes and ears ready to steal information, Jungkook’s thumb stopping before hitting the green icon. He takes a deep breath, then answers. 

«What-»

«Jungkook, please help me» 

Something inside him snaps, worry filling every part of his being. Your voice is shaky, fragile. It sounds like you’re crying.

«What, what happened? Where are you?»

«At home,» you whimper «I’m in the tub. I slipped and, I can’t move. It hurts» 

«Fuck, wait I’ll be there in five minutes. Stay on the phone, don’t move. Please, don’t move, okay?» he’s already on the way to the door of Taehyung’s house, their eyes fixed on him in worry. He waves goodbye before closing the door, mouthing “emergency” at their inspecting eyes.

«Fuck, are you okay?» 

To say he’s worried sick is an understatement. His eyes travel to every part of your body to make sure that you’re not hurt, until they reach your arms covering your chest. 

«Don’t look! Give me the bathrobe» you want to cry, you feel so embarrassed that you actually could. 

«Yes!» he passes it to you quickly, helping you as best as he can with his face turned to the side. He wants to tell you that it doesn’t matter if he sees you like this cause it already happened but he guesses you might feel embarrassed or just not at ease, so he shuts up and does what he has to. 

«It’s fine, I…» your voice trembles. You hold his wrist on the side of the tub, fingers cold and wet. 

«It’s fine, it’s alright. Ssshh, don’t cry» he kneels down, his arms wrapping around you and leading your head to his chest. 

«I’m not crying» you whisper, gulping down.

«You’re about to,» he caresses your hair «I’m here. I got you» he feels his throat tightening. He was so fucking worried he run two red lights while coming home, all the ones he met. 

«I always got you» he coos. 

For some reason, his words make you shake in his hold, a faint whimper coming out as you let the tears fall. The embarrassment and the stress about the situation, the pain of your ankle and his presence seem to mix together to combine into a perfect crying solution.

«You won’t tease me about this, right?» you mumble, voice muffled. Jungkook’s heart feels slightly reassured at your words, a weak smile gracing his lips.

«I won’t, baby. I promise» he whispers.

Your faint sobs fill the air, and he feels like his poor heart will break only by listening. His fingertips dig into your bathrobe so much it’s like you feel them on your skin, his other hand caresses your hair, his breath shaky. 

He waits for your weeps to summer down and stays like this a little longer, his presence reassuring and his touch relaxing you.

«Let’s get you out of here, okay?» he asks. You nod. He’s gentle when he parts his arms from around you, gentle when he tells you to relax, gentle when he smiles at you, soothing. 

«Where does it hurt?» 

«My ankle» you let him know. His eyes travel down, hands getting wet in the water as he lightly feels both of them. 

«There» you hold back your breath, the pain makes you grimace.

«Okay, just… can you get up? Just lean on me and don’t put weight on your right leg. Lean on me» he instructs. You follow his words and try to get up as best as you can, leaning your weight on him and keeping your ankle up. Jungkook helps you out of the bathtub, his hands coming to your back and the back of your legs to pick you up. He makes sure not to hurt your ankle with any movement, eyes on your face to check in with you without having to ask.

The path to your bedroom is silent, he lays you on your bed and tells you he will change the sheets himself afterwards because of the wet bathrobe. 

«I think you need a pillow, you need to keep your ankle up» he works diligently, worry guiding him until he realises you’re set. On the bed, with the pillow underneath your ankle, comfortable, kind of.

«Do you want ice? Wait, I’ll get it with something to drink» he lets you know. He vanishes out of your bedroom and into the kitchen to get a glass of water and the ice, then goes back to the bathroom to get a towel to wrap around it so it isn’t too cold.

When he comes back, he smiles at you.

«You need to drink at least a bit» he hands you the glass. He sits next to you, looks as you gulp down the entire glass with a proud smile, his hand reaching out to take the glass back and put it on your nightstand. You stay with your mouth closed, still too embarrassed to say anything.

He puts the ice on your ankle, careful not to hurt you more than what you’re hurting already. It’s an instinct he doesn’t think of or can fight back, when he strokes your hair tenderly. It makes you gulp, heart swelling in your chest. 

«I was so fucking scared» he admits, low and shaky, almost a whisper.

«I’m sorry» you really are. He was enjoying his night with your friends after a hard week of work, and you called him and made him come all the way home, worried and-

«It’s okay, don’t worry» he smiles.

«But we should go to the hospital, your ankle is a bit swollen and-»

«Not now, please» you refuse.

«Y/n, you really should»

«I know,» you nod «just please not now? In a bit» 

Jungkook sighs, but he nods. He keeps the ice on your ankle, eyes on your face to check if he’s hurting you in any way to the point you feel your ears burn. 

«Come here?» you ask, patting beside you. He raises his eyebrows, looking at your hand on the mattress. 

«Please?» you ask sweetly. 

«The ice» he says. You shake your head.

«Just for a little, please» you gulp your beating heart down. You want him close, closer and closer. You don’t know why, but you want him so close it’s getting hard to breathe.

Jungkook can’t say no to you, not when you’re in your most fragile state, telling him to lay beside you. He puts the ice on the nightstand, next to the empty glass. 

When he lays on his side, his eyes instantly fall on your face, a bit of worry still painting his features.

Your hands move on their own, reaching his and bringing them around you. 

The atmosphere is dreamy like, a pinkish feeling invading Jungkook’s chest as he stares at you, his arms squeezing you and your eyes getting lost in his. It’s odd, how you can feel you heart pulsate, the sound echoes in your ears until they become numb. His hold seems to calm your racing mind a bit and you find yourself craving for something you can’t really touch, get a grasp of.

«Jungkook» you call. 

«Mmh?» 

«I want you» 

Jungkook feels like a leaf about to fall. Swept away by the wind, scared to fall but what if the fall is so sweet, so gentle? What if he can’t say no? He wants you just as bad as he wants you to want him. He wants you sweetly, he wants you lovingly. He wants you. Every part, every shiver, every fear and every night. Every fucking night. If he can’t have that, he’ll have to settle for this at least. He can’t say no to your love. And now that he realises, he thinks, this is the last time. The first time loving you and the last. 

«Fuck, come» he holds you tighter.

«Come into my arms» as if you weren’t already. He stays like that, seconds passing by and his breath getting rougher, he tries to  slow down his heartbeat but it’s to no use, you probably can feel it even through your bathrobe and his clothes. He wonders what are you thinking, if you want him as bad as he wants you at least sexually. It makes him breathless, how much he wishes you were his.

«I need-» he gulps «I need you close»

His body moves on top of yours, his legs in the middle of your thighs, eyes glancing at your ankle to make sure he doesn’t hurt you with his movements. It kills you, how he takes his shirt off and the light of your room kisses every single inch of his abdomen. His beautiful skin, the muscles flexing as he removes the cloth, his brownish nipples hard at the cold hair. You want to lick it, every part of him. You want to touch it, chase every ripple with your fingertips. 

«Can I take this off?» he asks. 

When you meet his gaze his eyes are made of something you’ve never seen. It’s not want or need, you’ve seen those already the other times you had sex, it’s just something else that you can’t quite grasp; you don’t focus on it too much, nodding your head and reaching you hands for the knot of the bathrobe. 

«Wait, let me» his fingers graze yours. You stop your ministrations, watching as he unties the knot, slow. There’s something. There’s definitely something. When he took your clothes off the last time, there was eagerness in his motions. There was need.

He was scared, of course he was. You guess that now he’s just glad you’re okay and trying to not hurt you in any way. You’re glad. Glad that he takes such good care of you, glad to have him as your friend. 

«Thank you» you smile. Jungkook feels his heart clench. He wishes your relationship wouldn’t be like this, for you not to thank him with that smile so uninvolved, so clear. 

He nods, hands getting by your sides to not put any weight on you.

«Keep your ankle up, please. Don’t wanna hurt you» he says. You nod, again.

His bicep flexes as he puts his weight only on his left arm, his fingers of the other caressing your clavicle. He sees the shivers on your skin as he travels lower, grabbing the edge of the bathrobe to reveal your chest. He wants to squeeze you, squeeze you so tight you don’t have any space left between you, hearts beating against each other. 

Your skin glistens, and he can’t hold himself back anymore. He raises on his calves, opens your robe so that every part of you is revealed, takes off his pants and his socks. His cock is hard, so fucking hard he’s afraid he’ll come just by the sight of you, but he wants to hold back. He has to, cause he wants to do this right, in the right way. He wants to love you even if you don’t notice it, at least for once. 

«Sit up for me, princess» his tone is like honey, and you do as he says without complaining. The pet name leaves a weird taste in your ears, you’re not used to it.

He helps you out of the bathrobe, finally having you naked on the bed. So pretty, so exposed just for him. Something inside him doesn’t set right, though. 

«Hold tight onto me» 

You’re in his arms, getting up from the bed and out of your bedroom. You wander what the hell is he doing until you get to his bedroom, confusion invading your features.

«Why?» 

He lays you on his bed, getting a pillow again so that you can keep your ankle elevated.

He looks down at you from the end of the bad, cock twitching and eyes fixed into yours. He wonders if it was too much of a bold move, but he guesses you wouldn’t see anything behind it. 

«Want you in my bed» he simply answers, transparent and straight to the point, his dark doe eyes drinking yours in. 

You just nod a little astonished. 

Of all the times you had sex, it was always in your bed. Never in his. Never your perfume stayed on his sheets, never he got to swim in the illusion of having at least a little more to keep to himself, just for him. A part of you to keep, to protect in a world that isn’t yours. 

He takes his boxers off, and god you wish he could be faster cause you think your eagerness will make you lose your mind. You want him deep inside you, close as soon as possible.

«Open your legs for me?» he coos. He looks at you from the edge of the bed, still standing. Your eyes travel all the way from his face to his cock, it stands straight up to his belly button, the tip red and angry, veins displayed. If you’re not seeing wrong, there’s a bit of precum leaking out from his tip, but maybe it’s just the light playing with your eyesight. 

You do as he says, opening your legs as much as you can for him to see, careful with your ankle. He bites down on his lips, his hand getting to the base of his cock and wrapping around it, just squeezing it.

«I love your pussy» he breathes out. The way he sounds makes you clench around nothing and when you see his hand stroke up and down his needy cock your mouth opens in awe. 

«I’m obsessed, want it every day» 

You squeeze your thighs together, how can he speak so filthy but sound so angelic?

«That can’t happen» you warn him. 

Jungkook nods.

«I know» he answers. It kills him. It fucking kills him, to have a taste and then having to let go of it. 

He gets to the bed, kneeling in front of you, his eyes on your face. 

«I want you on my tongue» 

Your yearning is making you crazy, you’re so wet you’re practically dripping by now.

«Please, Jungkook» 

It sounds so good, to hear you say his name like that. In such a filthy way, totally unfiltered. 

«Gonna give my baby what she needs»

His hands touch your thighs, he gropes your skin with his digits, so soft it makes him want to fucking lose himself and get lost just in the desire. His sentence makes you wetter, but your heart beats louder for some type of reason. 

«Please» you plead again. 

«I got you» he reassure you, he lays down on your body, face close to yours. His lips are close, so close you think he’s going to kiss you but he just lays a kiss on the corner of your mouth. 

«I always got you» he whispers, his eyes looking into yours. His hand caresses your cheek, something that adds too much to this, to you, to the both of you. It leaves you wordless, shaking.

A second later, he’s back between your legs,  his hands grabbing your thighs in the gentlest way he ever did. 

«So beautiful» he murmurs to himself as he looks at your pussy juices leaking out. It’s so fucking inviting that he can’t hold back anymore. His mouth lands on your clit, so soft and pillowy, he kisses it. A strangled moan comes out of your mouth, and he lays another, and another. His tongue starts to glide between your lips, up and down he gathers your juices and then sucks onto your clit, your back arching on the bed.

«Oh, fuck» you moan. It makes him eager. Eager for more, eager for you, ciclo by fervent. He wants it all.

He sucks on your clit again, harder and for a time that seems endless, the pleasure that takes over you is tingling and consuming and your mouth opens again in a silent moan. He lets it go with a popping sound, he blows on it, kisses it again, sucks again as his tongue plays with it. Your hands reach his hair, they tug at the strands as you moan out loud. It’s so good, so good you’re not going to last long.

«So good» your hips shoot up, whines come out of your mouth.

He feels drunk, lost in the taste of you.

«Yeah?» he coos. His tongue rubs your clit deliciously, the pattern changing from up and down to side to side and circles, it makes you lose your mind. 

«What if I do this? Take all of you in my mouth?» 

It’s unreal, how good he can make you feel. He takes you all in his mouth, from your clit to your hole, sucking on every part he manages to get, then sucks on your lips. His hands move on your stomach, eyes on your face as he grabs your breasts in his palms. He squeezes them softly, fingers rubbing your nipples, filthy wet sounds filling the air. It’s embarrassing, the amount of wetness through your folds, how your juices keep leaking out at just a look at him. You don’t think you can hold back. Not when he’s sucking on your clit again, his fingers grazing your nipples as he moans on it in his mouth. He doesn’t think he can get any other pussy, after yours. It’s too good, it’s perfect. Just perfect.

«Gonna- Jungkook» you shiver.

«Tell me, talk to me, baby» he moans on your pussy, his tongue poking at your hole. 

«Fuck, I think I’m going to- cum» 

His tongue feels so good inside you, your walls tight around it and your juices wetting all of his chin. He wants your wetness everywhere, on his chest, on his thighs, on his fucking bed. 

«Please, let me see» he begs. 

«Cum for me» 

One of his hands come down, his fingers rubbing your clit. You don’t have the time nor the voice to tell him that you’re going to, cause god, it feels so fucking good you don’t even know how to speak anymore. You just see him, his eyes staring at you from between your legs, nose brushing against your folds, his tongue deep inside you. Your legs shake, your breathing is rough.

«Cum for me, angel» 

And you do. You cum so fucking hard, you don’t even realise what is happening, how your juices flow out and drip onto his sheets,  how Jungkook presses down onto the mattress to get some sort of friction, how he gulps down your juices as if they were the tastiest thing he ever drank. 

He kisses your clit, your lips, every part of your pussy he can get a taste of, your inner thighs.

«Fuck, I only want your pussy» he moans, the fingers that left your aching clit now wrapping around his thickness, your juices on his cock make his skin glossy. You’re such in a haze that yes, you nod.

«Fuck, yes» you sigh. Jungkook can’t take his eyes off of you, he simply can’t. You’re so beautiful, so pretty when you’re so vulnerable and exposed for him that you make him helpless, totally fragile.

«You’re so beautiful, so pretty when you cum» his voice makes you open your eyes, finding him still between your legs. 

«Come here» you struggle to let your voice out. 

«Want you close» 

His heart shakes. 

«Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you» he breathes out, laying on top of you. His voice is shaky and you feel his hands travel from your thighs to your stomach, then to your chest. They reach your shoulders, one of them cups your cheek, his eyes study every part of your face. He looks at the flush of your cheeks, how they turned to a reddish tone, your lips swollen from your teeth biting at them, your hair messy all over his pillows. In his bed, his at least for now.

«I want you, only want you» you whine. 

«You have me» he wishes you could notice, that you’d realise, look at him and mean your words just how he means them. He just rubs his cock against your folds, though.

«Right here» he moans. Cock rock hard, so fucking ready for you. 

«Please» you just keep pleading, you can’t hold back. You don’t even care if you just came and your pussy needs time to recover from the tremendous orgasm you just had, you just want him inside you. 

His cockhead brushes against your clit, a strangled moan coming out from both of your throats, your eyes focusing on his just to see that’s they were already there. Jungkook smiles at you so softly as his cockhead finds your hole and pushes in that it feels too much. Too much affection, to much loving. Too lovingly. It makes your insides twist and turn, and you wonder what the fuck is going on, but you don’t have time to voice your feelings cause a second later his cock is deep inside you, filling you up to the brim.

You just shut your mouth, take everything he has to give. You want it all, you don’t care.

«Fucking perfect» he whines. His cock never felt so good, your walls squeeze him perfectly, your pussy so wet he can feel your juices already pour down to his balls.

«Wrap around me,» he moans faintly «please»

Your legs move on their own, the pain of your ankle shooting up to your leg. You grimace, eyes squeezed shut.

«Careful with your leg» the worry makes him still.

«Lay it on the pillow, up» he whispers, his hand reaching your calf to guide it back down. 

«Like this» he kisses your temple. You sigh when you feel the softness of the pillow and your weight supported, the pain untying a bit.

«Does it hurt?» his words soothe you and you open your eyes to look at his face. You shake your head.

«It was just for the movement. It’s going away now» you answer. Jungkook nods, his fingers brush away a little strand of hair that’s keeping your beautiful face away from him.

«Like this it’s good, is it okay for you?» he asks. His hand holds your hip, your leg wrapped around him, the other on the cushion and Jungkook’s cock buried deep inside you still. You can feel it throb even when it’s still, you wonder how is it possible that he’s holding himself back so much.

«It’s perfect» you whisper. His eyes, smile first, as they always do. His smile comes right after, and you don’t know if it’s the atmosphere or your vulnerability for everything that happened but it makes your heart swell. You want him around you, you want him everywhere, all over you, inside of you.

He looks down at you, moves his pelvis back and then forward again, you wrap your leg tighter around his waist. Your arms come around him, his passes under your back as the other stays on your hip, his cock rutting inside you makes you whimper. He kisses your neck, sucks on your skin, moans in your ears. 

«Love it so much,» he shivers, eyes closing from the pleasure «getting to have you like this» 

«Feels so good, Kook» you whine.

Jungkook fucks into you slow, but his motions are firm and he knows exactly where your buttons are. Apparently, it didn’t take much for him to learn, it seems like he knew them all along, from the first time. 

«Yeah?» he coos, his digits dig into your skin.

«Yes» you moan out loud, only guiding him closer. His cock is perfect. You love it, could never imagine a better dick. 

«Tell me, baby. Wanna hear you» he doesn’t stop, only squeezes you tighter. Your breasts against his hard chest, your nipples brushing against his skin, every curve of your body against his.

«Your cock is so perfect» you tell him. He wants to look down to where he’s inside of you but doesn’t want to miss a single thing, not even a crumb of the pleasure taking up your features.

«I love it so much, the best cock ever» your voice is muffled and your fist comes out from behind his neck to press against your lips as you speak. 

«Please don’t» he whines, looking down at you. 

«Wanna hear you, don’t hold back» 

Your fist goes away. Your fingers dig into his skin again, surrendering to his request and letting your voice come out free. 

Jungkook makes love to you. It’s so sweet and so slow but so good that you’re lost. Lost in him, lost in the feeling and the pleasure. 

«Keep your leg up» he instructs, letting your hip out of his grasp. He kisses your nose, his hand travels between your legs, his middle finger on your clit. 

«Oh, Jungkook, fuck» you wail, the pleasure adding up. He moves his finger in circles, up and down, from side to side, just like he did with his tongue before. It makes him jerk inside you, throb with every thrust, bite down on his lips as he looks at your face and feel your walls clench around him. Your mouth opens, eyes looking at him through your lashes, pillowy lips ready to be kissed. 

«I want to make you feel so good,» he groans, «want you to think about this when you’re alone» he moans. 

«I want you to give it to me, all to me. Mine» he whispers onto your lips, breath hot on your face.

«All mine» 

«Fuck, yes»

Your walls are so tight, pulsating so hard. 

His finger keeps rubbing your clit, he moans when he brings it a bit lower, feeling his cock pounding inside your pussy, your pussylips spread around him, your wetness gathering at the base of his cock. His balls slap on your ass, the sounds filthy and wet, so incredibly wet.

«I’m going to- yes, feels so good» you breathe hard, his finger back on your clit rubbing faster. Your legs shake and you feel his cock dripping precum in your cunt, all of his length pulsating. 

«I want you to look at me when you cum,» he pleads, tone shaky «please look at me» he whines. If you weren’t on the edge already, you think you would probably be just by the way he sounds. He’s so sexy you think you won’t ever be able to get over this. You’re going to think about this for sure, hell if you’re going to.

«Kook, I- I…»

«Ssh, let go. Just let go and look at me» he coos sweetly. He’s holding back, he’s trying so fucking much to hold back that his cock is over sensitive and he doesn’t think he will last much longer. Your walls squeeze him perfectly, so fucking soft and warm around him, so wet, so beautiful. 

«Give it to me, love» he doesn’t notice, not until he says it. It just slips out, naturally. You don’t say anything, head burying deeper in his pillow and your walls tightening around him.

You come all over his cock. Your juices make it harder for him to control his pace as you contract sp tightly all over him, his cock still moving inside of you, your arms wrapped around him. You’re trembling but you still find the strength to cup his cheeks, eyes looking at him for all the time just like he asked you to. You watch him as he moans, fucking into you with the same pace, his cock so hard. One of your hands travel down, between your bodies and down to his cock, his tight balls in your hand. You cup them, massage them a little. Jungkook’s features grimace, a loud whiny moan filling the air as your fingers on his cheek caress his skin.

«So beautiful. Cum for me, please» you plead. His heart beats so loud it’s going to explode, and a second later he’s shooting his cum right deep inside of you, hot, thick and long spurts of cum filling you up to the brim. His lips touch yours, as he keeps cuming. They brush against each other and a second later he’s succumbing to them, moaning into your mouth as his hips fuck his cum into your pussy, your leg still keeping him close and you fingers on his cheek. 

The kiss is slow and not really controlled, his tongue touches yours and brushes it, your lips eager for each other but moving slowly. It kills him, the way you wrap your arm around him to bring him closer as if he wasn’t all shattered into pieces already. 

You kiss for long, he still fucks himself into you slowly even after coming down from his high, your body still tight to him. When you part, you feel your chest on fire. His eyes look glossy, his lips red and wet, his baby hair sticking to his forehead. His movements stop, the last trace of a kiss on your clavicle right where it all started, and then he comes out of you. He lays beside you, eyes staring at your face. Silence fills the air, your breaths the only thing audible.

«Kook» you call.

«Yes?» he hums.

«I need another shower» you laugh.

The atmosphere is odd. It’s thick. You want to go out of your bedroom and ask him what is going on exactly but for some type of reason, you’re holding back. There’s just something in the air.

Last week has been weird. 

You would come home when Jungkook was already there to find the dinner on the table, covered with a plate so it wouldn’t get cold, some days with a post it. 

I already ate, I’m going to bed, I’m a little tired.

I’m going out, but I cooked you dinner. Rest well.

Work was hard today, I’m going to sleep.

Since the two years you’ve been living together, you’ve always made sure that the one coming home later had something to eat, without having to cook when you’re both too tired. You do it for him too, when he comes home late. That’s what you did on Thursday and Friday, but when he came home you weren’t expecting him to literally eat and go to bed after putting his dish in the sink. 

The dinner was odd too, he made small talk, but there was something that didn’t feel right, as if it was a bit awkward. When you both stayed home on the weekend your friends filled the place on Saturday, and on Sunday, he just spent the day in his bedroom beside coming out to make lunch and dinner together.

You knocked on his door once or twice, asked him if he wanted to watch a movie or just chill together, but he said he was tired.

Something is off. Maybe he’s really tired, at dinner today he mentioned that work has been hard lately. 

You start to wonder if you should be worried. If Jungkook is stressed and needs someone to talk too, if you’re being just a shitty friend and shouldn’t give him all this space, if you should grab him by the shoulders and tell him to talk to you about what is going on. He doesn’t seem to have closed up with your friends though, on five days he spent three evenings at their place this week. Maybe it’s just you seeing things.

You should talk to him, cause you’re worried, and you miss him. You miss your friend.

«Jimin’s on his way too» Eunji announces, grabbing a pile of glasses. She places one for each of you on the table, then takes a look around.

«I think everything’s set?»

You nod, Hana and Jin appearing by your side with the side dishes. 

«Let’s put them on the table» Jin grabs six of them all together.

«Yah, don’t order us around. This is my house, not your restaurant» Yoongi slaps his hyung on the ass, his friend glaring at him. Hyunjoo shakes his head at the scene in front of her, her belly has just started to grow, three months into pregnancy. She looks so beautiful and happy that your heart throbs in happiness.

«Where are Namjoon and Jungkook?» she asks. 

«Namjoon will be here in ten» Hoseok answers.

«I’ll call Jungkook» you announce.

You’re about to go to get your purse, but the door rings, so you wander towards it. Jungkook stands behind it, soft hair reaching almost his shoulders, his bangs framing his pretty face. His eyes stare directly into yours, eyebrows cocked. 

«Oh, you’re here?» he asks, as if he wasn’t expecting it. He stays still on the doorway, hands by his sides. 

«Yes?» you smile as best as you can, not really knowing what to do.

«Everyone is here» you remind him. Jungkook nods eagerly.

«I know» he nods again. You move to the side to let him in. 

«I was about to call you» you say. He takes his coat off, hanging it with the others.

«I was stuck in traffic,» he shrugs «I thought it was the same for you, since you worked late too today» 

«Oh, no. I left earlier» he nods. And then, it’s silent again. You just stare at each other.

He doesn’t know. How to do this properly, how to go back to who he was, the friend you had before he realised it was too much to hold back. Every time he looks at you, it’s too much. He feels like you’re taking all the oxygen, leaving him with the smallest amount and not able to breathe properly. He tried. He really tried. He told himself that yes, it can be fixed. He repeats it to himself everyday, but something just makes him stop. He’s too… he guesses he just needs space. To get over you, to learn how to look at you differently, just like before he knew, when he was younger. Maybe he won’t ever be able to go back at that point, but at least to when it was bearable to look at you from afar and just have a small part of you? 

«Jungkookah!» Teahyung yells from the kitchen. Yoongi peeks out from the living room, he smiles brightly at his youngest friend, his arm wrapping around his shoulders. 

«Leave him alone, he just got here» he yells back at Taehyung. In a bunch of minutes, everyone is gathered in the living room, sitting on the carpet and ready to have dinner. It’s been a while since you all gathered to have dinner together, and the atmosphere is light. Everyone is laughing at something, new jokes being made and happiness shared. It makes you appreciate what you have, how every single person in this room means something to you, something beautiful. You’re lucky, very so.

But as you go on, you can’t help but go back to your old habits. Searching for Jungkook’s smile in the midst of the laughters, look for his eyes when you start to talk about something that happened to you during the day. You find him nodding at someone, eyes going back to his dish when you speak. And you can’t help but feel in the wrong. He’s mad at you, maybe you did something to make him upset, something that apparently is very much important to him. This has to be the reason why.

You realise how much you value him. His thoughts, his words, the way he makes you feel like there’s someone you can lean on, someone who’s got you. You realise how easy it is to enjoy his company, to feel happy thanks to him, to feel loved. And how cold it is without him, lost. 

You’ve always been inseparable, since you were sixteen and he was nineteen. Your pieces fixed together so perfectly that you didn’t have to worry about fighting with each other, cause you both knew that nothing was going to change between you. You went through so many things together that you can’t even remember all of them clearly now. He’s your safe place. And even though you know that this is perfectly fixable and actually nothing too dramatic, you just feel lost without his complicity. 

«Y/n?» Hyunjoo shakes his hand in front of your face, her striking smile brings you out of your thoughts. You nod.

«Oh, yes I’m listening»

«You don’t know what you’re doing» Namjoon’s hand falls on Jungkook’s thigh, lightly slapping it. He shrinks on his side of the sofa, eyes shutting down.

«I know» he whines.

«That’s at least something» the hyung scoffs. 

«Did you talk?»

«No» he lets out. If it wasn’t already clear enough, Jungkook is in very much need of advices.

«We just…»

«What?»

«We don’t speak-» he stops to gulp «like we used to»

Namjoon can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

«What? Why?»

«Cause we simply don’t, it’s complicated»

«It really isn’t» he fights back, slapping his hand on his thigh for a second time.

«Why?»

Jungkook sighs. 

«I just… I think I need time to- get over her or whatever this is, I-»

«You have to talk to her, Jungkook,» he shakes his head, unbelievable «if you don’t, she’ll think there’s something wrong. You have to be clear and-»

«I can’t» he bites down on his lips, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. Sleep is getting to him and the fact that tonight he didn’t sleep well makes it even worse.

«I can’t tell her»

«It’s worse if you don’t! Your friendship is not going to be fixed magically» 

«That’s the reason why I need time» he blubbers. 

«And the reason why she’s looking so gloomy» Namjoon’s response dejects him even more.

«I know I’m being a dick,» he stares down at his feet in the slippers «but I can’t lose her»

Silence is the answer that accompanies him. The cheers coming from inside the room sound muffled, the light of the moon softly grazing his skin. Just the thought of you not by his side sends a shiver of fear through his spine. He doesn’t want to get to know what it is like to be without you, he can’t.

«Don’t you think that maybe a part of her… at least a small one-»

«No,» his voice is faint «not a small one, not even a bit» 

It stings. So fucking much, it burns. 

Namjoon sees it clearly, the pain written all over his features. To be truthful, he’s always noticed it, even when Jungkook didn’t know. He saw the way he looked at you, his smile when someone mentioned you, the way he would talk about you or what happened to you the day before, the way you made him laugh while doing the dishes, how he was ready to put you first, even before him. It actually makes it hard for him to understand, how it took all this time for Jungkook to realise. 

«Even when you were- like intimate?» 

Jungkook’s eyes shoot right to his hyung’s face. He always tries not to think about that, for as much as he can. Even though, some nights your hands on his skin haunt him, your moans in his ears, your taste on his lips.

«I don’t think so» 

«Did you kiss? Like, or I don’t know, was like- two friends having sex or- what was it like?» 

Jungkook wishes he didn’t ask. Cause bringing the thought of you looking so vulnerable and ready for him in his arms sends back feelings he tried so hard to hold back in the last two weeks. 

«It was…» he takes a deep breath, letting the air out from his mouth.

«Consuming» his breath gets stuck in his throat.

«We were just…» he shakes his head «it wouldn’t be the same for her. I loved it in a different way»

«Maybe,» Namjoon pats his shoulder gently «but how was she? Like, was she like the 

Y/n you always hang out with? Like- you know, how awkward it can be when two friends fuck, come on» he chuckles lightly, not really wanting to be explicit about the two of his best friends.

«She was sweet. Like, so sweet. The last time, she…» he closes his eyes, munching on his lips. The scene playing in his mind leaves him in agony, it’s pure torture to remember you in such a crude state, all for him.

«She was in pain. When she called and we were at Taehyung’s place-»

«That night?» Namjoon’s eyes shoot wide open, mouth hanging as the youngest nods.

«She was in pain, she hurt her ankle. But the way she looked at me, kept me close… the way she opened up to me just- it kills me to remember her in that way» he sniffs. His eyes are glossy. He wishes there would be a better way, an answer written somewhere, a safe recipe to follow. 

His friend understands that he can’t ask more. Jungkook is in pain. And he wishes he could do something about it, even though he knows he can’t. So he just hugs him, his hand patting the youngest head to comfort him at least a bit. 

«Jungkook!» you yell from your living room. You’re tired. It’s becoming too much, and you need to talk, right now. 

You don’t hear any answer, so you stride to his room. The knock on his door makes him grimace, eyes staring directly at it.

«Come out,» you stare at the white wood, arms crossed in front of you «please» you add, voice softening.

He lets go of his clothes, laying the folded pieces on the bed more carefully than the others. 

«I cooked you dinner, I left a post it» the door opens, revealing him in all his height, hair still a bit wet from the shower. The black hoodie he’s wearing makes him look smaller and it involuntarily warms your heart a bit.

«You said you were going to sleep» you murmur.

«I am» he says.

«You’re not,» you shake your head «you’re mad at me. Did I do something wrong? Please, just tell me, it’s killing me» 

Jungkook stares at you blankly. His eyes scan your features for what seems to be an hour. He shakes his head slowly, guilt takes over him, the displeasure clear on his face. He softens, a step towards you and all of his defences fall down.

«I’m not mad at you» he’s sweet, voice covered in honey. 

«You aren’t?» your arms fall at your sides.

«You’re mad. There’s something off, you’ve been ignoring me for the last two weeks»

«I-» he cuts himself off, closes his eyes for a second. 

«I wasn’t… I…»

«Please, just talk to me» you plead. You can’t stand this atmosphere, not with him.

Jungkook shakes his head, his arms wrap around you in a tight embrace, it’s all he can do.

«I’m sorry. It’s just that work has been rough and I’m all over the place, just- I’m sorry» 

The knot in his throat is getting thicker, but he can’t say more. He knows he’s been a dick, a total idiot.

«You say that but I…» you shake your head on his shoulder, your arms move around him and you feel him sniff. 

«I promise there’s nothing wrong» he whispers, he moves his hand up and down on your back to soothe you, the other keeps you close.

«I’m sorry» 

«Talk to me» 

His hair tickle your skin, the itch makes you rub your face on his shoulder to tone it down and his hand fists the cloth of your shirt.

«If you feel like you need to vent or just… anything» your back shakes, and he knows you’re about to cry. Tears don’t fall though, you try as best as you can to not make your sensibility take over you even though your eyes are burning.

«Ssh, don’t cry, please» he sounds pleading, voice faint and shaky. It’s killing him for real, to not open up to the person he loves the most, you’re his best friend, his person. And he just wishes so much his feelings never showed up, that he didn’t look at you so differently from the way you look at him. 

«I will. I will, I promise» he blows. 

The atmosphere in your house feels light. It’s back to normal, with Jungkook walking around the place on a Thursday night, his voice echos in the kitchen as he wipes the floor, one of the songs he’s been listening to lately getting sung over and over again. 

«Jungkook, you need to see this» you call from the sofa. His eyes travel to where you are, the light of the kitchen shines stars in his irises and the beanie he’s wearing makes him look so cute. He leaves the broom carefully balanced on the side of the counter, his feet tiptoeing towards your spot. He squats down, eyes squinting at your phone.

«Woah!» his excitement makes you giggle as his hands zooms in the picture. 

«It’s our niece? I need to call Yoongi hyung! Did he send it to you?» 

You nod, a big smile on your face.

«Wait, how do you know it’s a girl?» 

Jungkook shakes his head.

«I can feel it» he beams.

«Where is my phone?» 

«I think you left it on the sink» you answer. He nods eagerly, getting back up. The way he hops all the way to the sink makes your turn and laugh, he’s so dorky you want to slap his cute little ass. 

«Fuck, I stepped on the dirt!» he whines, stopping right away. You laugh even harder, hands grabbing your stomach as he huffs and gets his phone. He comes back to the couch, falling on it with a thud and raising his feet on his knee. 

«Don’t do it here!» you scold, still laughing. He simply giggles, wagging his toes at you.

«Clean it for me?» he laughs. You want to puke.

«Ew! What’s wrong with you?» he laughs so hard you start laughing again too, looking at him as he just simply wipes it on the carpet. You roll your eyes, pinning a mental note to vacuum it later.

«Aigoo, I never walk without slippers and now this happens» he complains, shaking his head. 

He quickly finds his hyung’s contact and puts the call on speaker. 

«Jungkookah» Yoongi’s voice fills the room, the younger smiles brightly at the screen.

«My hyung is going to be a dad! Yah! Bring us out for dinner» you slap his thigh, glaring at him. Yoongi laughs, totally expecting his request.

«I will. You saw the ultrasound?» 

«Of course I did,» he nods «I feel like it will be a girl. Am I right?»

«We don’t know yet. It’s too soon, but I don’t think so. Hyunjoo says it’s a boy» 

«Really?» he narrows his eyes. 

«How was it?» you ask, the excitement is uncontainable. You’re so happy for your friends, can’t wait to meet the little one.

«I cried,» he laughs, «I thought I would hold it in but I cried. Fuck, I’m so happy Y/n» 

«I know,» you chuckle «how are the cravings?» 

«Ugh, getting worse» he whines.

«I came home and she was eating pickled cucumbers,» he moans out of disgust «made me go back to the supermarket cause she needed mustard. Couldn’t she just send me a text before» he shakes his head even though you can’t see him.

Jungkook chuckles, his body getting limp on the cushions.

«That’s what you get for making me clean the ten servings of noodles you spilled the other day» 

«Yah! I had to set the table!» 

«You were the one who spilled all!» he fights back.

Jungkook is really trying. And it’s going fine, it’s not hard to enjoy his days with you, it is never been. You just have chemistry together, you laugh almost all the time and never find it boring to be together. It’s just. 

It’s just the way his eyes linger on your rosy cheeks too much, he has to remind himself to look away, back to the movie playing on your tv. Or last night, when you were dancing to your favourite girl group’s new song, the way your lips curved into a beautiful smile, hair flying in the air and he had to hold back his smile, too big.

If he looks back to all these years, it makes him laugh, how fucking long it took him to realise how much you had of him. You spent entire days together and he would still do the same as he does now, stare at you mindlessly just for the sake of admiring you, then getting back to what was happening around him. It’s always been here, this feeling. It just took him so much to come to surface and even when it did he tried so hard to make it go away, push it down inside him until it became too much too bear and it hit as fucking hard as what you mean to him. All he repeats to himself is that he just has to do what he’s been doing all along, right? He lived with this for years, a day more won’t hurt him. 

«What are we doing tomorrow?»

He eats the last bite of pizza, cleaning his hands with the tissue.

«Yoongi’s taking us out for dinner» you answer, getting up to clean around. You grab the boxes and the glasses, the coke under your arm.

«We have to go grocery shopping» he adds. He sees you nod, you put the boxes on the counter and the glasses in the sink, make sure the coke is well closed and then put it in the fridge. It’s almost empty, the redness of the gochuchang box parked on the first shelf stands out too much with nothing beside it.

«Yes» you nod. 

«Are we going early? We can have breakfast out» 

He gets up from his spot, waddling to you. A big smile is all you need to understand his answer. Breakfasts out are the best. 

Breaksfast out means getting up on time. Something you both struggle with, since you spent yesterday night awake until late. Jungkook has the tendency of staying in bed until he’s at least a bit awake, staring blankly at something as he sits up, eyes puffy and hair messy. You just storm out of the bed knowing that if you don’t you’ll fall asleep again in a matter of seconds. 

You knock on his door, no answer in sight. 

«Jungkook!» you call again. You hear the shuffles of the covers, his cute mumbling words that haven’t been invented yet.

«Get ready, let’s go have breakfast» you say. You hear him moan as he stretches, take it as your chance to go back to your room and shower. 

It takes you both twenty minutes to kind of be ready for your day, your eyes both puffy and a bit red. You decide to go to your favorite cafe and when you arrive a wave of excitement washes over you. It’s been so long since you had a nice and relaxed breakfast outside, the feeling of being free the whole day and not having to worry too much. Jungkook watches you smile as you order and play with your phone as you both wait for your food, his pinkish lips curling up into a beam. It feels good to see you like this; relaxed, happy. It reminds him of when you were younger, with less burden on your shoulders. 

When you go grocery shopping together it usually ends up with him pushing the cart and you filling it up, he points at a snack from time to time and you end up adding it to the rest. You come home for lunch, watch a movie right after until your eyes start to fall shut, so you decide it’s time to take a nap. Jungkook stays on the couch, wanting to see how it ends. You fall asleep well, sleep for two hours straight until your alarm rings. Silence fills the house when you wake up and you guess your friend is probably napping too, so you tiptoe out of your bedroom to get a snack, until you hear him.

He’s working out judging from his grunts coming from the bedroom in front of you. You’re used to it, Jungkook likes to stay active and just fills his time like this from time to time when he has time. 

Just, this time your mind wanders. You hear his sounds, picture him sweaty and with his muscles flexing, his eyes focused and his jaw clenched, his breath rough… until you’re wet, pulsating. You hold your breath, close your eyes. And you go back to your room, shut the door.

Scenes of him eating you out play right in front of your eyes, his moans. You end up on the bed, your trousers off and your panties pushed on the side of your lips. There were times when the thought of him in this way turned you on after you stared fucking but you always pushed them away, telling yourself that it’s not right. Just, this time they hit you harder. It’s been a while since you had sex and the way he sounded just makes you want to open his door and… you shouldn’t do that. Just focus on you, you think. 

Your fingers graze your clit, go lower to get your wetness on your fingers then go back to their initial place. You see him between your legs, his fingers inside you and his dark doe eyes staring directly at you. You hear him whisper, telling you how good you take his cock, how your pussy wraps so good around it, how good you make him feel.

The image of his cock fills your mind, leaving you with the need to suck it and hallow your cheeks around it, his grunts filling up your ears, the sweetest sound ever. You feel his fingers, delicate and warm, they touch you and caress you, his kisses on your lips. 

You see him on top of you, telling you to be careful with your ankle, eyes worried and arms wrapped around you. You feel loved, for a second. A kind of love that doesn’t belong to a friend. You feel admired, beautiful. The way he looks at you with pure affection makes you hiss, his words in your ear and your bodies tight. 

Feels so good, getting to have you like this.

See him pounding into you at the slowest pace, his fingers gracing your clavicle, his hair on your shoulder. The way he checks in with you to make sure that you’re enjoying this as much as him, begging you not hold back your moans.

Gonna give my baby what she needs.

You shiver, legs shaking. 

His fingers on your clit, his cock brushing against your walls with each thrust, his whines. The way he called you. 

Ssh, let go, his voice faint as the pleasure takes over him, his balls tight, give it to me, love. You cum, silent and incredibly hard your orgasm hits you like a wave during a thunderstorm, impossible to hold back and too good to decline. 

You lay on the bed, breath stuttered and eyes shut. Your heart beats too loud. 

The first time you had sex it just happened. You don’t know what exactly went through your mind, the reason why you had to start it all; your body moved on its own. Jungkook was tired, arrived late at home and was sleepy. You cooked him dinner, kept him company while he ate even though you had dinner already. You listened to him whine about his day, the tiredness evident in his voice. A few minutes later you were on the way to your bed, already too intertwined with each other and with the new feeling bubbling up between you to stop whatever the hell was happening. 

The second time, it was pretty much just the same, you didn’t go to each other with the intent of fucking, but you ended up just like that, with his cock in your mouth and his eyes on your face. 

The third time, it was because you ended up talking about what was happening and how you should behave, how you should keep your friendship away from your rendezvous. It stared just like that, but again, you didn’t really behave that much.

And then, the last time. 

You never once went to each other with the intention of fucking. You wonder when is it going to happen again, in what way, the reason that could start it all. Would it be so bad if you just grabbed him and started it? Does that make your relationship different ? It would, you guess. But is it any different not looking for it but don’t say no when it happens? You don’t even know why you’re thinking about such questions, when you should be focusing on work. Today was stressful, you had a ten minutes lunch break because you had to go back to the papers on your table. You’re tired and your period is on the way which is probably the main reason why you’ve been feeling horny for the last four days. You should just leave it as it is or take care of it on your own, not really into casual sex with strangers or clubs. You wish you were more like Hana sometimes, enterprising and more likely to be ready to have some fun before she used to date Jin.

Your phone rings, displaying Jungkook’s name.

«Hey» you answer. 

«I’m bored» he whines from the other side. You picture him with his head falling back and his eyes shut, pouty lips.

«What should I do?» he stretches the last word out, childish tone. 

«Cook me dinner please?» you try. 

«Already did,» he huffs «when are you coming home?» 

«I have so much work to do, I don’t know» 

He whines again, leaned on his stomach his cheek is squashed against the cushion of your couch, arms by his sides and his legs kicking the air. 

His voice comes out muffled: «Please, I’m so bored» he complains. 

«Jungkook, I’m working» you sigh.

«Can I come?» he stares at the screen pleadingly, his ankles crossing as he flexes his toes. He eagerly takes the phone in his hands, eyes stuck on your name. He had a long day today, and even though he wishes he could go to bed already even though it’s only 8 pm, he’s not feeling sleepy nor tired, quite the opposite actually. Being alone in the living room is boring him too much, and he doesn’t feel like going to to someone else’s place, giving the usual noisy meeting they usually have. He just wants to relax, but not on his own. 

«Kook-»

«I’ll let you work, I promise» he begs, «I just want company»

If he could be an emoji, he’d probably be the one with the moist pleading eyes. You know it, the expression he makes when he craves for something, and that’s exactly your weak point.

A deep sigh makes his way out of your mouth, he can hear it from the phone. Silent follows right after.

«Okay, bring me food though please? I’m starving» 

«Yes!» he punches the air with a fist.

«I’ll be there in ten, I think. Just text me what you want to eat»

«The dinner you already made?» you ask. Jungkook licks his lips, this time the silence fills his part of the call.

«Okay, then be there in twenty I guess» he huffs.

You shake your head, what a moron.

You realise in this period you’re really all over the place. And you also ponder, how long is it been since you had sex with someone? Not Jungkook, someone else. Jungkook is your friend, you shouldn’t think about him when you’re touching yourself to get some stress out or just when you’re craving for sex. It’s not right, it’s not the place of a friend. It’s making you stressed, to think about sex and link it to his face in your mind. You shouldn’t have done it in the first place, you think. You also thought about telling him that it can’t happen again, but it seems like it’s not going to happen anyway. You’re glad. 

So for once, tonight you let Eunji and Hana take you to a club, with just the intention of trying to take your mind off of it. Your methods didn’t work until now, so maybe theirs will. Your friends know you too well though.

«There’s something wrong, I smell your frustration from here» Eunji inhales dramatically, a grimace forms on her face right after.

«Ew, it smells bad. Like onion and soju mixed together» she likes her tongue out disgusted. You laugh, Hana shakes her head.

«That’s the guy behind you» she points at the man dancing his ass out on his own, totally drunk.

«For real though, what’s wrong?» 

Both of their eyes linger on you. You sigh.

«Just feeling a bit overwhelmed» you shrug. Your friendship it’s deep, meaningful, full of memories, you know you could tell everything to them and they would understand. You could even tell them about the rendezvous you had with Jungkook, but that would put you and him in a not so comfortable position with your friends, the last thing you want is for them to think that you have sex with each other consistently. 

«I’ve been sleeping with someone» you announce. Eunji coughs on her drink, Hana’s eyes shoot right open. They stare at you as if you have two heads, still on the dance floor. 

«Oh, come on! It’s not that shocking. I-»

«We need to sit» Hana takes you by the hand, Eunji following right after. The couches are not really big, but you fit into one without any problems. The people are less here, the smell of alcohol and sweat too, thankfully. 

Their attention goes back to you; «Is he someone we know?»

«Why would you? No,» you shrug «you don’t know him»

«Is he good?» Eunji sips from her drink. That’s a weird question, not the one you would firstly expect from her.

«What? Why?» 

«You seem stressed and you said it yourself that you’re overwhelmed, so it’s either one of the two: he’s so fucking good that you can’t stop thinking about it or he totally sucks» straight to the point. Hana caresses your shoulder, glaring at Eunji for her ways even though you know that deep inside her she wants to laugh.

«No! He’s- I mean, he’s… good. It’s something else that bothers me»

«What?» Hana coos.

«He’s my friend, and it just happened. Different times» you explain.

«So you’re fuck buddies now?» Eunji raises her eyebrows.

«No! It just happened, we don’t do it often. I just… I don’t know how to explain it, it’s not like we see each other in that way. We have a good friendship, like- we value each other. Every time it happened, it’s not like we were expecting it or-»

«That’s worse, I guess» she shakes her head. You’re about to say something, but her words leave you wordless. 

«What, why?»

«Listen, I don’t think you can be friend and still sleep with him. If you had sex, that means you’re attracted to each other. Even if it’s not in a romantic way, it just… If it just happened, girl, there was sexual tension between you. I guess» she adds the end just because your expression is giving her shivers. The look on your friends’ faces screams panic.

«It would be better if you had a clear answer on what you are. Like… mmh, you know I’m bad at explaining things!» she whines, «Hana, please help»

Your friend sighs.

«Y/n, is this thing still happening? Like, are you still sleeping together?»

You shrug.

«It’s been a while,» you let out «actually, that’s the problem»

«You want to-»

«No, I don’t» you cut her off.

«I realised that it’s getting too much. Like, I think of him too much in a sexual way it’s making me feel uncomfortable»

«That’s what I meant» Eunji nods. 

«I’ve been there. Remember Hyun?» she chuckles. 

Of course you remember him. The guy was not really close to her, but it was the start of a friendship still. They used to have sex everywhere, their friendship ended up with them fucking each others brains out, after two months, they couldn’t bare it anymore. The atmosphere was heavy, too much sexual tension without even really having a conversation. The fact that Jimin started to find interest in Eunji made her end it even faster.

«We’re not like that though. We have a good friendship, we trust each other and-»

«And you have sex. Not regularly, it happens without any expectations. So it means that you don’t see each other as fuckbuddies, but there’s sexual tension. That’s the base for a relationship. If you put sex into the mix, you end up with butterflies in your stomach. I’m just saying that if you value him that much you should be careful. Understand what you want» her voice softens at the end, but you’re too upset by her words to notice. Eunji hates to be the one saying this, but she has to try at least. You need to know what you’re doing, set some boundaries wether you decide to do something or the other. 

«Y/n, you know that we love you. Eunji’s just trying to-»

«I know» you nod, a knot in your throat. 

«I just… I need to go home, need to clear my mind and sleep over it» you sigh, monotone. Your hand grabs the pochette laying by your side, eyes scamming the club that suddenly seems to little. You shouldn’t have slept with him in the first place. You know that you don’t feel feelings towards him, but thinking about him in such ways… it makes you feel guilty, like your friendship could lose its meaning, like it’s stained. Like it could get out of control. It’s too much to think about him when you’re alone deep at night, like the last one, his face invading your mind when your fingers are deep inside you, even though you’re trying not to picture him. 

«Now?» Hana asks, the worry in her eyes is clear. A glance towards Eunji and they’re both nodding, communicating with each other without having to speak. They know you too well, they could see the panic in your eyes even with theirs closed. 

The way back home it’s short, the music playing in Eunji’s car does nothing to ease your mind even though it’s your favorite girl group, your friends glance at you from time to time from the rear view mirror. When you get off and say goodbye, they wait for you to shut the door behind you to look at each other, eyes wide open and jaw hanging. 

«Jungkook» the name is crystal clear, both of them letting it out with a shocked expression.

«It’s fucking Jungkook» Hana nods.

Jungkook didn’t think that coming back home early meant this. 

You said you had company, texted him twenty minutes before he got off work, but he wasn’t expecting this kind of company. He was expecting Eunji and Hana, maybe Taehyung or some of your friends, a coworker maybe. Definitely not you getting fucked in your bedroom by someone he can’t identify. 

This is torture, it’s all he can think. When he arrived nothing seemed weird or odd, expect for the fact that he found the living room empty. As he started getting closer to his bedroom, he realised. And fuck, the slap he got on his face, the punches that hit him on the stomach and on his chest left him breathless, his injuries in pain and itching, his eyes shutting. 

This is torture, it really is. 

He moves from the hallway, goes to the bathroom to wash his hands and wet his face with cold water.

He can’t stay here, not in such a moment. Not when he can hear you like this, with someone else. It hurts. Fuck, it fucking hurts, it stings, it tears him wide open all the way from the inside to the last layer of his skin. His eyes burn, lips twitch. And suddenly, he’s sobbing. Sobbing in his bathroom, his reflection pitiful and broken. His breath is rough, cheeks stained from the tears, vision foggy. A whimper comes out of his mouth and he bites on his lower lip, repeating to himself that it’s okay. But it’s really not.

Jungkook’s eyes are swollen, puffy. You think it’s because he’s still half asleep, but when you meet his eyes you’re taken aback. He looks tired, as if he didn’t sleep well, but they’re a bit red. He cried? You didn’t hear him coming in yesterday night, you knew he worked late and left him dinner ready, but when you woke up today his food was just where you left it, the table still set. 

«Kook?» you coo from the counter. He hums in return, head hanging low on his shoulders and eyes staring down at his legs, he sits on the couch with the tv playing in front of him. 

You turn around, wash your hands quickly and dry them with a paper towel. You tiptoe to the sofa, glance at him from the side. Your senses are tingling, there’s something wrong. 

«Kook, look at me?» you ask sweetly. He stays still, fingers fidgeting on his lap. He thought you were still sleeping, his room felt too tight to stay in it any longer. He wishes you had different opinions on open spaces, when you were looking for a house. Maybe you wouldn’t have seen him with a wall dividing the living room from the kitchen, and he would be tiptoeing back to his bed already.

«Please?» you try. 

It’s to no use. All you can do is gulp, worried for what’s going on.

«Is something wrong?» you ask.

«Did something happen?» 

He doesn’t answer. He knows if he opens his mouth now he will start crying again. Maybe you should just sit beside him and wait for him to open up. You turn around the table, take a sit next to him and pat him on his shoulder. 

«Koo» you call again. He doesn’t even look at you. Your hand stays there, trying to give him some comfort but it only makes him want to break in a loud cry. 

«Please» you whisper. 

Yesterday, he thought about going over to Namjoon’s place or just anyone else’s, but he didn’t want to show how miserable he was. Thankfully, that guy was out ten minutes later. What a fucking joke, if he found just a bit more traffic coming home he wouldn’t be feeling like shit now. 

Your hand leaves him, you get up and for a second his lips tremble, his walls falling down as he thinks you’re giving him some space. But then, you kneel down. In front of him, right between his legs with your fucking beautiful eyes staring at him. Your expression changes; the worry gets more urgent, pressing. 

«What happened?» you’re breathless. You’ve never seen him like this, it scares the shit out of you and he can see it perfectly. You reach your arms around him, his breath cuts off.

«Don’t» he whines, voice faint, pleading. You don’t understand what is happening, your head is spinning. You put your arms back down.

«Talk to me» you whisper. He has tears in his eyes, his lips are red as if he’s been biting them all night long. He turns to the side, his eyes burn when he stares at the wall without blinking. His lips tremble. 

«Koo, please. I’ve got you»

The dim breaks. His chest shakes, expression contorting as the first tears start coming out. He sobs faintly, shakes his head to himself and looks down to the ground. It’s physically painful, to see him hurting this much; you wish you could take it all away from him and make it yours, if only that was possible you’d do it even if it hurt ten times more. It couldn’t hurt more than this, though.

Your hands wrap around him, holding him so tight to you that you feel his sobs vibrate against you. 

«I’ve got you» you soothe him, caressing his hair. With your warmth around him and your caresses, everything falls down into pieces. Every part of him breaks harder, the tear gets wider and deeper, your words of reassurance fill the wounds up but don’t sew them, they just make them heavier to the point that they pierce him and make him empty. Your hold suffocates him and your warmth is painful, your caresses bluffer him. 

«I- I c- Please I-» he shakes in your hold, not able to speak. Your eyes burn, seeing him like this it’s atrocious. 

«Breathe» you beg, holding him tighter.

«Please breathe for me Jungkook, breathe» 

He hears how your voice is shaking, sniffles as he tries to breathe properly, sobs bubble up from his chest when he inhales. Your cheek brushes against his neck, you leave a kiss out of comfort and his hands instinctively fist your shirt. He tells himself to slow down, think properly and hold back but with your loving arms around him it’s a nightmare.

«Ssh, it’s okay. I promise» you whisper. Time slows down, you just focus on his breathing. One thing at a time, you tell yourself. You, need to calm him down first, you need to see him breathing properly, at least a bit lucid. Stroking his back up and down you think about what you can do to make him relax. You’ll make him some tea as soon as he’s doing better, it will soothe him at least a little bit.

«I’m here for you» 

Jungkook’s breath moderately calms down,  his sobs still come from time to time, but you have all the time in the world. You don’t care about how long it’s going to take him to stop crying, you just know that you want to be here, need to. It’s desperate, the need you have to make him feel better, almost consuming.

«I’m- ngh- I’m sorry» he hiccups. He buries is face in the crook of your neck, his cheeks are still wet and his hair tickle you.

«So sorry- I’m really-»

«Ssh, it’s okay» you repeat. You keep stroking his hair, Jungkook seems to quite down the more you do it, his hold gets firmer too as if he’s trying to anchor himself. 

«Did something bad happen?» you try. 

He moves in your hold, making you squeeze him tighter until you realise that he’s looking for a way out, so you let go. He wishes it was this easy, that his feelings could let him free just as easy. With you between his legs,  it gets hard to breathe again. The way your eyes linger on his face, scan every feature and every expression, even the way he bites the inside of his cheek. 

«I… I’m sorry» he mumbles low. This time, his eyes look at you. Clear, transparent, vibrant fear lingers in them with so much weight that it takes away your braveness. Jungkook’s eyes stay in yours even while they fill up with tears again, they don’t budge. The knot in his throat gets back, your presence suddenly feels blissful and he wishes he could just linger in this feeling. The feeling of you being close even if it’s only like this, keep being satisfied with only having a part of you.

«It’s- too painful» he breathes. 

«What is it?» you look at him from down, with your glassy eyes and he just-

«I- I… I love you» his voice trembles. 

Silence fills the room.

His words make a dull sound in your head, your body stiffens, lips ajar. Jungkook is frightened, totally stuck in place. His heart beats so fucking loud that it will explode.

The shock it’s too big and it stops you from letting the three words sink in, all you can do is stare at him blankly as he holds his heart in front of you.

«I’m- I can’t,» he shakes his head «it’s too much. I just… it’s killing me» 

«You…» you gulp «you don’t mean it that way, right?» your voice trembles.

«It’s just- we-» you shake your head, take in a deep breath.

«We shouldn’t have- it’s because we had sex. It has to be because of that cause you didn’t-» you stop talking. 

Jungkook stays silent, his chest burns, the tears in his eyes get uncontainable, until he breaks again. His shoulders tremble and he sniffs but it’s so silent that it’s even more consuming. He looks at you with such eyes, such vulnerability and fear at the same time, as if he was a stray puppy and you his possible saviour or his next predator. It scares you. And you understand his answer, because you know him, because it can be seen from miles away. 

It’s not because you slept together.

«I need-» it’s hard to breathe properly «I need air» 

He’s confused, he mistook his emotions, most surely. It has to be that. How can- how can it be not? You’re his friend, his best friend. The one he likes to tease, the one that knows him almost as deep as he knows himself. The person he- this can’t be right. It simply can’t.

You can’t come back home. You really can’t, he needs space to think this through; you need it. You need peace, somewhere to relax, to just don’t think. If you go to Eunji’s place maybe- she will ask. Hana too, and what about Jin and Jimin? Maybe a hotel room is the best choice, in that way you won’t receive questions, no one will get curious. 

Thank god you had your phone in your pocket when you went out and weren’t wearing home clothes. You book an hotel room not too far, call a cab since you left your car keys at home. 

You can’t face him now. 

You walked a lot today, wandered around without a destination and ended up sipping a bottle of strawberry mogu mogu on Han river. Your phone buzzed at lunch time, then again at four pm, another time just fifteen minutes ago, but you didn’t take it out of your pocket. It scares you, because you know that it’s him. 

Your hotel room is a beautiful one, has a big double bed with fluffy pillows, big bathtub, snacks in the fridge, a beautiful view on the eighteenth floor. The big buildings and the city lights make you feel small, the look of the man at the reception desk too. He probably doesn’t care about the reason why you’re here instead of sleeping at home, but your mind does. Maybe then, you’re the one who makes yourself feel small. Still, you don’t want to care. You can’t go back home, not now. What would you do? What would you tell him, how would he look at you? You need time. 

When you lay on your bed, your phone buzzes again. You breathe in as you open the messages.

From Jungkook🐰 12.37pm

I’m sorry. I cooked you lunch, I left the food in the oven so it will still be warm when you come back. I ate early to give you some space. I’m really sorry

From Jungkook🐰 4.13pm

Where are you? Please be safe. Your car is here, do you want me to come and pick you up? Or I can call a taxi. Just, please be safe

From Jungkook🐰 7.54pm

Y/n, I’m worried. It’s dark outside and I went out to look for you but I just don’t know where you are. I cooked you dinner, so if you come back it will be in the oven too. Just text me so I know that you’re safe at least, please

From Jungkook🐰 8.33pm

I’m really sorry, please come home. I’ll go to Taehyung’s place if you need to be alone. Where are you? It’s dark outside and I’m really worried

Guilt takes over you, makes his way through every single part of your body until there’s not a single piece of your skin that isn’t drenched with it. Your fingers move on the keyboard, eyebrows pinched together.

From Y/n🧸 8.36pm

I’m safe. I booked a hotel room for tonight, so don’t worry. I need a bit of space, so I don’t think I will be back tomorrow. 

Jungkook’s fingers never typed an answer so fast.

From Jungkook🐰 8.36pm

I was so scared that something happened

From Jungkook🐰 8.36pm

Please eat dinner and don’t skip your meals

From Jungkook🐰 8.37pm

I won’t text you if you need space. Just, do you want me to bring you your car keys? You left them here

From Y/n🧸 8.39pm

No, it’s fine. 

From Jungkook🐰 8.39pm

Okay

From Jungkook🐰 8.45pm

I know you don’t want to talk right now, but I just need to tell you this: I will always have my arms empty for you, whenever you need a safe space I will be here. As we’ve always done with each other. Please remember this. Sleep well 

You wonder how is it possible, to be friends with someone for so long and don’t notice that there’s more. You wonder when it begun, how. Where did the friendship end and the love begin, the boundaries. Which one of his gestures where made out of friendship, which were made out of love. How did he realise. Why you. 

For the three days after you left home, all you told yourself was that he was confused, that he mistook his feelings, that it can’t be true. After you spent yesterday night walking in the streets, took another walk on the Han river and even dared to eat dinner on the riverside, a good look at the waters took your mind back to his eyes. To the way he looked at you, his eyes clear, transparent and full of vulnerability and fear when he opened up to you. What if, he’s always been in love with you, it’s always been this way. What if he’s not misinterpreting his feelings, what if he really loves you. 

It scared you even more than the day before.

You never saw him that way, your friendship has always been just friendship for you. Until- well, it’s still friendship. Eunji wouldn’t say so, but for you it is. So where does love start for you? With attraction most of all, you guess. With the want and the need to feel someone in more ways, physically, emotionally, sentimentally. With wanting to be whole. Love is… butterflies, feeling loved, giving love, taking care of each other. So where is the boundary? The boundary of friendship. 

Because fuck, today you start to wonder, you think that Eunji is right. 

What do friends do? Are you not allowed to feel all of that and still call it just friendship? What if, what if you are the one mistaking yourself? What if it’s something else, what if it’s not just friendship anymore. When did it start, when does it end. You’ve always craved this things with Jungkook. Always craved for physical touch, maybe not in a sexual way before, but what if you just didn’t ponder on it too much because you’ve always restrained yourself into thinking that you were just friends. You’ve felt the need to share, to the point that you got a home with him. You’ve always wanted him emotionally, always were ready for him in whatever occasion, always felt close to him. You’ve always felt loved, you’ve always gave love back. You always took care of each other with all yourselves.

Would you do all of that for any of your friends, for Taehyung, or Namjoon maybe? 

You’re not too sure. You don’t think so.

Is it the same with them? Of course not. You would do anything for them, but you guess it’s not in the same way, not as deeply.

What about before, even before the first time you had sex. Because maybe, it could be that you’re thinking this just because you slept together? Like, you could be the one mistaking your emotions now. 

You still felt this kind of connection before, though. With the Jungkook who was just your best friend. You don’t feel it for Namjoon who’s just your friend. You don’t feel that kind of tight embrace around you when he lingers his eyes on you for too much, his laughter doesn’t make you giggle like Jungkook’s. You don’t feel lost when he’s not talking to you or not meeting your eyes when you look at him. You wouldn’t want to have anything more with him in the first place, cause he’s just Namjoon. And for god’s sake, you wouldn’t have wanted it with Jungkook neither, if you didn’t feel already more. The fact that you were already ready to just welcome him in when the opportunity of being closer knocked on your door, well… that’s the answer. You still remember it, the frustration of seeing him so tired and the need to make him feel better after a shitty day, the need you had to take care of him when you first slept together. 

You were never just friends. Maybe in the first place, maybe at the beginning, maybe when you were younger. You just simply got used to him and his presence, never really gave your eyes a chance to see clearly, never really made yourself look at him differently because he was just… your Jungkook. 

But, what now? Is he still- Jungkook? Like, your best friend? Now that you realised, now that you understand the reason why you wondered when the next time was going to be, how; the reason why his eyes slipped in your mind at night, his words, the way he called you the last time you slept together. 

Now that you realise that, could you go back to who you were before? Just, craving for his touch but telling yourself that it’s not okay, looking at him and wishing you could take away all of his tiredness but thinking that it’s normal, for a friend. Wanting to take every part of him and know it all, looking from far away, peeking out and stealing some but not getting it whole. Could you still do that? Cause before, you didn’t know at least. Now, could you? Sentimentally too, would you be okay with it?

Jungkook just wants to go to sleep and forget about the shitty day he had. He didn’t sleep well tonight, the house feels to empty without you and last night his brain just wouldn’t stop working, kept wondering about you. If you had dinner, what time did you go to sleep at, how much did you work, if you finished the last drama you were watching. 

Today, it was pretty much just the same. The fear of you not coming back insinuated in his mind at some point during work, he even took a break and had a snack but he just kept picturing himself inside your house, all alone. Him without you, his best friend and his person. He typed on your chat for multiple times, asking you if you were eating your meal correctly, how work was going, if you were craving for ice cream just like he was, he texted sorry too, but he always ended up not sending the messages. 

He’s tired, work was rough and he wishes he could just go back in time to ask you what you want to eat for dinner, he’d cook it even though he’s tired as hell. He wouldn’t sleep for three days straight, if that would be able to bring you back just to have dinner together. 

He hates to know that you feel uncomfortable with him, can’t come back home because he’s there, that you won’t look at him in the same way as you did before. He hates to not have you by his side, when just a look could make him happy. 

The guys packed him on the shoulder, told him that he did the right thing, but he doesn’t think so. These days have been hell. There’s not a day that goes by that he doesn’t think about the way you looked at him, how he stuttered those words out and doesn’t regret it. 

Today they all had lunch together, with Eunji, Hana and Hyunjoo too. It was so odd to not see you there that he kept spacing out all the time. The girls didn’t talk about you and he even though he wanted to he didn’t ask because probably you didn’t tell them what happened.

The elevator doors open and the end of the hallway looks so far from here that he wishes he could teleport. Even the passcode of your door seems too complicated to enter now. He types the first three numbers, his eyes glued on the screen.

The door clicks, a grimace on his face, lips pouty in confusion. Then, your face. 

Jungkook looks at you as if you hung the stars in the sky, as if you were one of them. His eyes open wider, lips ajar, his shoulders fall down. He feels like he’s dreaming. Is it real? You’re home. When did you come, why? What- fuck, he feels like he’s going to cry.

The way he looks at you with his big starry eyes, it makes you gulp. How your fingers tingle for the need you feel to squeeze him tight and never let go. There’s a knot in your throat and all you can do is stare at him and linger in the feelings that hit you like a fucking bucket of cold water. And it’s bitter that they taste like they always did: the sweetness is the same, the audacity just bolder now that you let the door open: but they taste just the same. All this time, all these years. They’ve always been in front of you, you’ve always been way to deep and only realised after so much. 

«I… I- I cooked you dinner» 

He doesn’t budge, still on the doorway and with his eyes glossy. You reach your hand to him, Jungkook still stuck in place as you gently grab his wrist to make him come in, his body almost stumbling at your touch as he enters.

You close the door behind him, leave his wrist. 

«You- you… what? Are you…» he shakes his head, totally astonished. 

«You cooked?» his tone makes your lips stretch into a smile.

«I cooked,» you nod «I cooked us dinner» 

You didn’t think your heart could beat this fast. You really didn’t notice it for all this time. Every time it happened you always blamed it on something else, not the man in front of you. When his words would make you feel comforted, when you’d search for his eyes in the room, when just his presence was enough to make you feel at ease; in every moment the emotion you’re feeling now would bubble up in your chest just for you to push it aside without even noticing, a tag with the label friendship covering its true pinkish colour.

«Take your coat off» you coo. Jungkook stands still for a few seconds, still stunned. His eyes stare at you blankly until he nods. He puts his bag on the ground and hangs his jacket, you watch him move, eyes lingering on every part of him that you missed too much. His long hair, the bangs on his forehead, the mole on his nose, the one right under his lips. When he raises his eyes and finds you staring, you don’t move your eyesight. His eyes pierce right through you, deep and transparent just like the last time. They are scared, vulnerable and totally defenceless; if you looked closely enough, maybe you would’ve always seen it. 

«Jungkook, I…» 

His arms wrap around you. 

It’s tight and soothing and the fucking consuming. You squeeze him in your hold, your head falls on his shoulder and you know that you can’t hold it in any longer. 

«I’m so sorry,» you sniff «I was selfish. I’m sorry. I- I just-»

«Ssh, it’s okay» he sniffs too. The tears burn his eyes as he tries to keep them in but having you here in his arms makes it harder. He feels you hiccup, your back shakes, your hands fist his shirt, and your nose muffles into the crook of his neck. He clenches his jaw, squeezes you tighter.

«I’m sorry too»

«I was so scared. I just- I didn’t realise»

He knows, fuck he knows. He just wishes you wouldn’t vanish away. Don’t, just don’t cause he doesn’t think he will be able to forget himself.

«It’s okay, you don’t- just please don’t leave me» he whimpers. 

Jungkook breaks down in your arms. He loves you too much, values you too much to not have you in his life. He doesn’t care how much he has to hurt or hold back, he can’t do this without you, without his best friend. The house felt so empty without you.

«I won’t,» you sob «I promise I won’t. I’m sorry I made you worry and left. I needed time and- I- I needed to think» you sniff. His hands stroke your hair and you let go of a deep breath. You missed the feeling of his caresses, how his touch is always been enough to sooth you.

«You didn’t do anything wrong» he whispers. A tear streams down from the corner of his eye, it tickles his cheek and makes him loiter in the warmth of you even more.

«No, I- I was selfish… you opened up to me, and I- I left you. I’m-»

«You’re here,» he whispers «you came back. You’re here with me, you- you didn’t leave» his voice breaks and you feel him tremble. Your heart clenches and stings in your chest as he nuzzles his nose into your neck.

«Just- please,» he pleads «stay with me» 

Your dim breaks. You shake your head, lay your lips on his neck. He whimpers as he hiccups and when you lay a soft kiss on his skin Jungkook feels like dying inside. Your lips are so soft. Your nose brushes against him, another kiss laid on his skin just right upper, then another one and another one until you’re just under his jaw, his breath unstable as the tears wet his skin. Your hands leave his back, your body parts slightly, his hands reluctantly let go of the hold he has around you. You cup his cheeks, soft and reddish from the crying, look at him in those beautiful stars. They’re a bit swollen from the tears, his cheeks are damp, his lips trembling. 

«I was so fucking scared that I didn’t realise»

«Me neither,» he nods «but it doesn’t- it doesn’t matter. Just don’t leave. I can’t-» he gulps harshly. 

«The thought of not having- you by my side, it killed me. I- I couldn’t sleep, work was hell, I-»

«I’m not leaving you» your hand tenderly strokes his hair. Jungkook stay still as you dry his tears with your thumb. You want to slap yourself for causing him so much pain, he must’ve felt so scared already and you just- you just made it harder. You should’ve talked to him, should’ve faced him.

 «I promise» you smile softly. Jungkook could implode for how happy he feels right now, with you smiling at him just in the same way as you used to. Your lips tremble and a new hiccup comes out. His arms go back to where they were before, they squeeze you to him and it’s so familiar and bittersweet, it smells like home and trust and all you can do is let go in his embrace.

You let the rest of your tears come out, hear his breathing slow down, feel his heartbeat against you. You kiss his jaw, your lips tickle his wet skin, your hand reaches behind his neck and Jungkook wishes he could just take his heart out of his chest and step on it, make the feelings go away. But it’s just too saccharine, the way your lips linger on his skin for a second too long, how you perfectly fit in his arms.

«I want you,» you whisper «I want you whole» you lay another kiss on his mandible.

«I want every part of you, every- everything you can give» you peck his chin, look at his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t understand, his eyes wide and glossy stare at you as if you were telling him to solve the hardest mathematical problem ever. Still, he looks at you with such tenderness that it makes your insides twist. He’s lost, totally. 

If his love could be represented, he’d paint you in pinkish colours, then in black and white, in blue and all the colours in the world. He’d make a different version every time just to admire at your face some more, to keep the next one to himself when the lights will make the one before fade, so he’ll always be able to meet your eyes just like now. Remember the feeling you light up in him.

«I love you» 

It’s odd, how lives intertwine. How people can take and give from each other pieces that can’t be seen, how two roads that never meet can lead to the same place. It’s beautiful, the way you speak. It’s dreamy. Its dreamy, the way you look at him, the way he used to look at you for all this time, it’s beautiful how your lives intertwined, how you became each other’s mystery and answer at the same time. How you’ve walked together for all this years, silently hand by hand but without ever looking down at them, not even knowing. 

Jungkook laughs. He laughs as his tears fall down and he thinks that maybe the world will end, cause his head is spinning. You chuckle and your eyes are wet, and suddenly your hands cup his cheeks again.

«I love you» you repeat. He shakes his head, sniffing totally in disbelief.

«I do» you laugh, nodding. His head stops. His eyes widen slowly, the look on his face makes you bite down on your lips, it’s like seeing the sky clear after a thunderstorm, as if the sun was peeking out from behind the dark clouds. His mouth opens.

«I do» you whisper. 

Suddenly he wants to cry even more. Your lips lock with his and it’s so gentle and sweet, and oh god, so consuming. You take all the space, every cellule of his body, all the air in the room, in the house even. You leave him breathless, lungs burning on fire. His lips are soft, wet with tears, salty. Jungkook whimpers in your mouth, his hand reaches your face and fuck, there’s no end. No end to how fucking much you have of him, how much of him is yours. 

His thumb strokes your cheek, his other hand falls on your waist. His tongue is warm, his eyes shut, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks, both of your hearts pounding. You kiss slowly, sweetly, lovingly. You wish you could never let go, have him like this forever. And for the first time your thoughts are the same as Jungkook’s in this moment. If he could read your mind, how big  would be the smile stretching on his face. Jungkook smiles on your lips, his teeth brush against your tongue, his digits on your waist lightly dig into your skin. When you part, your eyes are still shut, foreheads pressing against each other.

«I’m sorry,» you mumble on his lips, he shakes his head, pecking your lips with such tenderness «I’m sorry it took me so long to realise»

Jungkook is the happiest man in the world.

You came back, you’re in his arms, you love him. You fucking love him, you do.

«It’s okay, it’s perfect. You- just please come to me» he guides you close to him again, you shut your mouth when his warmth wraps around you, his eyes shut. You don’t want to let go, you won’t. 

«Jungkook» you call softly. He hums against you neck, his lips dare to peck your skin and he can’t fucking believe that he gets to do it cause he simply can.

«When did you realise?» 

«I already knew» he murmurs.

«But… on Eunji’s birthday… you came back home and were so drunk. You slept with someone else and I just- I guess my feelings were so strong that I couldn’t control them anymore»

«I slept with someone?» you ask, your head shooting up too look at him. Jungkook nods.

«You said he had a pretty dick» he chuckles for your choice of words, even though he can still fill it sting. Just the thought of you in someone else’s arms makes him heart clench. 

«Oh! No!» you laugh, «Jungkook, I didn’t sleep with anyone. He was peeing outside of the club and I was so drunk that I kept repeating him that he had a pretty dick for all the way home» you explain.

«Ew, it’s so embarrassing. Eunji made him take me home because he’s her brother’s best friend» 

Jungkook can’t believe his ears. His eyes are about to roll out of his sockets for how wide they are.

«You- I thought…» he shakes his head.

«I didn’t, you know I don’t feel comfortable in those type of situations» you shake your head.

«Even though… last week I-»

«I know» he murmurs.

«You know?» he nods. 

How does he? You don’t understand, how is-

«I came home early and- I… heard» his words are faint, a thin line that holds all the pain his heart was stained with. It echoes in the room, gets back to your ears until your eyes widen and you feel disoriented.

«So you-» you can’t even process your words properly «I’m so sorry, fuck» you really don’t know how to apologise. He was at home, while you were under another man. He heard you. His eyes were swollen the next morning, that’s why. He couldn’t even look at you. 

«If I knew, I wouldn’t- I…» 

He smiles softly, his heart clenches. 

«You’re in my arms now» his lips tremble slightly.

«I just kept thinking about you and when it was going to happen again. I kept telling myself that we shouldn’t have slept together in the first place, I felt guilty that I thought about my best friend in such ways and- I- I told myself that it was happening because I hadn’t slept with anyone else for a while»

You do your best to explain without getting your words intertwined, but Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change into an angry one, he doesn’t glare at you, doesn’t budge. He just nods, smiles sweetly. 

Love can be blind. It can blind you to the point that you can’t see straight, can’t decipher what’s happening. You were scared, lost. 

«I hurt you so fucking much» you whisper. 

«Maybe it had to happen, for us to be here» he whispers.

«I don’t care about anything,» he strokes your hair «It hurt. But you’re here with me and I just- I just want you close to me» 

His arms hold you just for the sake of it. 

His warmth is intoxicating, the sound of his breath too. You wish you realised sooner, you wish that he didn’t have to hear you in such circumstances cause the pain on his face the next day was unbearable. When he saw you the next morning, all he could think about was you under someone else, your skin against his, your eyes looking at him in the same way you looked at him. The same thoughts that teared him apart for all night long. But now, it doesn’t matter. It was just a step that had to be taken, in a way or another. It was just something that guided you to him, in his arms right now.

Something in the air shifts. All your senses tingle, they scream for him and his touch just the same as Jungkook’s. He wants to have you, the most vulnerable part of you, like no one else ever did. You want his lips and his caresses, his eyes deep into yours.

«Let’s go to bed?» 

His breath catches in his throat.

«I want you closer than this»

The path to your bedroom never felt so good to walk on, with Jungkook’s fingers digging in your hips and his lips on your neck. It’s thrilling, the feeling running through your body. It’s saccharine, sugar coated. Your hands in his hair fit so good, the way you whimper when you stumble cause you can’t see in front of you, how he chuckles on your lips. 

«I want you in my bed,» he breathes on your lips «wanna keep you there all night long» 

Fuck, the way he makes you melt in his arms with just a few words. You nod eagerly,  letting your hands run on his back. Jungkook can’t hold himself back any longer, gripping you by your thighs and kissing your neck, his lips are wet and with the air your skin fills of shivers. His fingers dig into your skin as he moves towards his bedroom. 

«I want you so bad» you whine. 

«Gonna give it to you baby, everything you want» 

The door is shut and Jungkook doesn’t seem to want to let go of holding you as he kisses your lips. It’s too much to ask of him, after loving you for so long. You’re too breathtaking, too perfect.

«Let me» he kisses you again «open the d-» another kiss. You laugh on his mouth, his giggles fill the air as he keeps pecking your lips. 

«Kook, the door» 

He smiles big, turns around to make you open the door without letting you go. It stays open when he walks inside, doesn’t care at all and just walks to the bed, leans you down on his sheets. 

«Take it off» you mumble. He moans when your hands reach his skin under the shirt, nuzzles his face into your neck. You lift the cloth, Jungkook kisses your clavicle, his lips get as low as your shirt permits, his nose brushes against the swell of your breasts. You pinch his back, giggle when he whines.

«Want you naked» you remind. He laughs and looks into your eyes, totally drunk. 

«You’re so impatient» he sniggers, making you smile and turn. Your cheeks grow red as your eyes look at his nightstand.

«Look at me» 

His fingers reach the hem of his shirt as you turn again, he lifts it more and takes it off from between your legs; the view makes you salivate, his muscles on full display, his brownish nipples getting hard with the cold air.

«Want me to take my pants off too?» 

You want to smack his ass but you refrain yourself, you know he’s just teasing you like always.

«Shut up» you shake your head. His fingers reach the button of his pants, he slides it through the hole, pulls the zipper down. 

«Let me» you sit on the bed. You kiss his neck, let your fingers graze the skin of his chest, your touch makes his cock twitch, hard and swollen in his boxers. You let your hand pass over his navel, down until you reach his dick. 

Your hand lingers on it, Jungkook’s head falling back. 

«Fuck, you’re too much» he moans. 

«Make me so hard by doing nothing» he hisses. Butterflies fill your chest, your hand squeezes him through the cloths and you feel yourself getting wetter as he lets out a rough breath. God, the sounds he makes. They make you want to surrender to him and his pleasure, you feel the need to take him in your mouth as if your life depended on it. His hands go back on your body, fast fingers fist the material of your skirt. 

«You’re too impatient» you mock. He hums a soft giggle looking at you. 

«I am» he admits. Your sneaker in response makes him smile big and he lays his forehead on yours. He looks at you with those eyes, all the stars in the world couldn’t be as bright and magnificent as them and you can’t help but dive deeper and deeper. 

«I want to make love to you, wanna make you feel so good» and it feels so good to be able to say it out loud. To let you know.

You kiss him, really too impatient to hold back any longer. He helps you out of your skirt, takes your shirt off, makes you lay on the bed as he takes his pants and boxers off, his socks too. And fuck, the way he looks. How fucking gorgeous this man is when he’s just standing in front of you with his cock hard and standing proudly, cockhead red and swollen, skin exposed and the tattoos on his arm on full display.

«Fuck, come here» you beg. Jungkook doesn’t let you repeat it twice, his body hovers yours and you open your legs to welcome him. He kisses your right hip, his lips are wet and they tickle your skin, make you squirm under him as he cups your breast from over the bra. 

«Fuck, I love you» he hisses as he looks up at you. You can’t control the beat of your heart, too lost in him and how much youu’ r been missing. You can’t believe it took you so long to finally understand. Your lips part as you stare down at his face, his dark eyes on you. He kisses your stomach with his eyes in yours, the scene makes you so wet that you wrap your legs around him and Jungkook’s cock brushes against your panties. He moans, the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard, his mouth is still on you and the lace of your panties feels so fucking good on the underside of his cock that he shuts his eyes. He can feel your wetness even through them, they are soaked. Fucking hell. Your legs squeeze him more as you look at him, his mouth open and eyebrows pinched together. You lift your hips, to give him some friction. Hic cock twitches against you and you let out a breathy moan that makes him open his eyes. 

«Oh, fuck» he moans. It’s guttural and so fucking sexy. You can’t wait to hear more, you want to make him crazy. 

«Grind against me» you breathe. His cock twitches again, his jaw clenches. He lets you pull him closer with your legs, keep him tight against you until his cock is practically glued to your panties, your pussy totally soaked. His hands cup your breasts and he squeezes them gently while looking at you, your head digs into the pillows, a moan escapes your lips and Jungkook can’t help but do the same. His hips move tentatively, his cock rubs against the lace and the pressure gets to your clit. Your moan makes him whimper, your voice so sweet that it makes him repeat his movements. He can feel the outline of your lips from your panties and it’s fucking killing him.

«Fucking panties» he hisses, somehow making you laugh.

«Mh, what?» he smiles at you, his cock still brushing against your throbbing clit. You bite your lips.

«Nothing, just you» you shake your head. The pleasure is so good. Jungkook keeps smiling as he kisses the tip of your nose.

«Me what?» he asks, his fingers get under the strap of your bra, he pushes it down on your shoulder. 

«Just you,» you smile «I don’t know» 

He’s so fucking happy. 

«Am I funny to you?» he bumps his nose against yours. His movements are slow and controlled, his thighs glued to the back of yours, eyes right deep into yours. He moves his hand under your back, his fingers fumble with the opening of your bra.

«Sometimes» you laugh, cupping his cheek. You kiss him sweetly, Jungkook smiles on your lips as he lifts the bra from your chest, he guides the straps down your shoulders and your arms until he lets it fall on the ground. He pecks your lips once more, finally fondles your breast with his hand. Your nipples are hard and he wants to tease them until you squirm under him. His cock jerks when you moan under him, the pads of his fingers brushing against them. 

«Kook» you whimper. He kisses your neck all the way down to your chest, his lips lock around the pebble of your nipple as he teases the other with his fingers. Your back arches, mouth opens. 

«Feels so good» you breathe. He flicks his tongue repeatedly, sucks lightly as he ruts his cock up and down on your clit. Your legs tremble, he lets go of your nipple and takes the other in his mouth. It feels too good.

«Fuck» 

His hand travels on your stomach, his fingers pass your hip and reach the inside of your tights to caress it softly, tickling your skin until he presses his cock against you with his palm, his cockhead heavy on your clit. You squirm under him as he kisses your neck, his moans fill up your ears as he works his cockhead on it.

«Tell me you’re mine» he nuzzles his face into your skin. His balls are so tight he could cum right now.

«Jungkook, I’m going to-» you can’t even speak, you’re so close your blood is running hot in your veins. The pleasure it’s too much, it keeps building up and you just want to succumb.

«I’m yours» 

«Only for me» he grunts.

He parts his cock from your pussy. You want to ask why but a second later his fingers link around the hem of your panties and he pushes them down onto your thighs and over your knees until they pass your ankles and get lost in the room. The need to take a good look at your wetness stops him from pushing his cock back to where it was. He stares down at your lips, parts them with his fingers and fuck, he wants a taste. Your juices are leaking out from your hole so deliciously that he can’t hold back and gathers them with his thumb. 

«So fucking wet» he praises. 

His lips wrap around his thumb, sucking on it and tasting you, his cock twitches as it stands angrily. You taste so sweet, so delicious for him that he promises himself he’s going to make you cum like this tonight, eat every drop, swallow all your sweetness. And then start all over again.

«Wanna be the only one who gets to taste your beautiful pussy» 

Your hands grab his wrist on your leg as you nod.

«I promise» you whisper.

Jungkook lays on top of you again, he lets his wet thumb brush against your nipple as he his cock parts your lips and slides back between them. Your folds feels so good against him, the sensation makes him bite on his lips as he suppresses a loud moan. Your nails dig into his back as you look at his face, so fucking beautiful. It’s paradoxical how you think he looks like an angel when his cock it’s sliding against you so agonisingly.

«I want you to cum like this» he breathes.

He pushes his cockhead against your clit, rubs it in circular motions and then up and down, from side to side. Your juices mix with his precum, it’s so fucking wet that your juices drip on his sheets. He wants them to smell like you, to remember the way you smell when you’re working and he’s waiting for you at home, wants your juices to fucking claim his sheets. 

«Can you do it? Cum all over my cockhead, baby. Do it for me»

Fuck, how couldn’t you. It’s too much. Especially when he’s asking you like this, looking at you like you’re the essence of his world. 

You nod quickly, your chest raises up and down at a torturing pace and Jungkook can’t take his eyes off of you. He loves you so fucking much, you’re his. Fucking his.

«I’m- fuck, I’m going to cum» 

«Me too, baby. Cum with me?» he sweetly brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, he kisses your cheek with such tenderness and sincerity and your heart just can’t process it. It explodes in your chest, your legs shake and suddenly you’re whimpering and squeezing your eyes shut, your head digs into his pillows, your walls tighten. Jungkook grunts, pushing all the length of his cock against your folds and wrapping you closer to him in his arms. He cums so hard that his head falls on your chest, his moans muffled against your skin. His cock jerks, his cum wets your stomach and drips down your thighs and onto the sheets, a bit of it on his abdomen and chest too as he lets himself lay on top of you. 

It’s blissful, the way your fingers stroke his hair as he breathes harsly, he feels his heart pound and his insides melt. You stay silent, look at him just laying in your arms. You never felt so light, so free as now. Love can be blind, so blind that something so special had to wait all this time to finally be seen; all these years and your souls intertwined in every way possible, the roots of your plants were always in the same pot. You were so used to his presence and his leaves that you didn’t realise how much soil you shared, how deeply were intertwined your roots, how they held each other up with such tenderness and love. You want to see his flowers, want to share your water with him, you want to bloom and wilt with him, you want it all. 

«I love you» 

You caress his cheek even though you can’t see them, his eyelashes flutter against your chest and he raises his face to look at you, then rests again on top of you.

«I love you too» he answers. A big smile. Starry eyes, rosy cheeks, messy hair, totally love drunk. And you couldn’t love it more. You pinch the apple of his cheeks, he scrunches his nose and pouts his lips. 

You feel attacked, seriously.

«Why are you so cute?» you whine. His giggles fill the room as he gets up. He lays beside you, wraps his arms around you and squeezes.

«I want to spoon you» his fingertips dig into your hips as he kisses your shoulder. You huff contently, turning around. His legs intertwine with yours and Jungkook rests his head in the space between your shoulder and neck, his chest tight against you.

«Are you comfortable?» he pecks your cheek. It’s perfect.

You nod and shut your eyes, lingering in the feeling of the moment. 

«Don’t sleep» he whines, pinches your hip.

«I haven’t finished with you yet» 

«What? I’m tired» you laugh. You really aren’t, but you like to tease him. Your eyes open, head turns slightly to look at his eyebrows furrowing as he frowns. 

«It’s not true» he blubbers. Fuck, how can he look so adorable in such a situation? All naked, tight against you.

«It is,» you pout back «I’m really tired» you fake a yawn. His head falls on the pillow. 

You stay still for a little, then decide that you want to look at his pretty face. He wails as you turn around, clearly not okay with it.

«Let me spoon you at least»

«Wanna look at your pretty face» you puff at him. His body relaxes and when you turn around the view hits you like a truck on a highway. His hair are messy, long strands following sweetly the roundness of his cheek as he stares at you. His eyes are round, doe-like, incredibly profound they capture the light of the room and exhibit it perfectly, stars scattered across their skies. His lips are red, and it’s because of you. You caress his cheek, brush the strands away. He smiles largely, his hand grazes the back of yours and squeezes it, his other one behind your back so sweetly that you melt. 

«You can fall asleep on my chest» he murmurs. You shake your head.

«I was just teasing you,» you giggle «don’t wanna sleep now» 

He huffs, faking annoyance but it’s just really endearment.

You graze his chest with your fingers, tickle him with the nails as you slowly move up and down. His cock is still hard, the tip red. 

«You’re… you’re still hard» you breathe. 

Jungkook looks at you, the way your eyes stare at his cock on his abdomen, a big smile stretching on his lips as his cheeks grow a little reddish.

«Can’t help it baby,» he simply says «it’s what you do to me» 

He doesn’t lead the conversation anywhere else, as if he doesn’t intend to do anything about it, a dreamy sigh leaving his lips. He stares at you in awe, he can’t believe he gets to do this. In his arms, you naked and relaxed, laying down to stay. You don’t get up to leave his mattress and go back to just being friends, close but not close enough, a heartbeat away. Laying with you feels ecstatic. It’s the forbidden fruit, the one he always craved for; the intimacy of it, being in your rawest states and still trusting each other in such a profound way, getting to see each others fully in every way possible, physically, emotionally. 

«Love» you whisper. His big eyes look straight at you, his heart stumbles in his chest. 

«Last time… you called me love»

«I… couldn’t hold back» he shakes his head, nuzzling into you. 

«It felt different from the times before, it was…»

«I was making love to you» he mumbles. The way he clings his chin to the fist of his hand on the pillow right after makes your stomach clench. The silence creates a foggy haze in the room, but you still see each other clearly. He must’ve hurt so much, for so long. You want to make him smile. You want to reassure him, make him feel loved just as he did to you that day. 

«My baby» you whisper, leaving a peck on the tip of his nose. He scrunches it and smiles big at you.

«Let me do the same- » you kiss his lips and although the intention was to go for just a peck Jungkook’s lips keep you attached to him like a magnet «and make you feel good?» 

«Mmph…» he moans as soon as your hand reaches the base of his cock. You feel it twitch, watch it as it gets even harder in your hand. Jungkook gulps, shuffling on the mattress to get comfortable. The view of your pretty little hand around him makes him longing, yearning to have you all over him. He doesn’t even have to wait after cuming already, he knows he could be ready for you right now. And when you stroke him, oh god, the sound he makes… you wish you could record it and play it all over again and again. 

He folds his arms, rests on the back of them to look at the view properly, head up and chest raising roughly.

«Fuck, I love it» he hisses. You lick your lips, get closer to him on your side as you let your hand pull his foreskin back, his cockhead furious and leaking precum already. 

«You like it?» you coo. He looks at you, your lips wet and your eyes gawking at him. You make him powerless just by doing nothing. Your thumb touches his slit.

«Shit, yes» he moans.

«Love it, I love it» 

You smile at him. Jungkook can’t take his eyes off your face and your hand, not even for a second. When you gather his precum and stroke it all over his cockhead he breathes hard and suddenly he craves for a taste of you. His chin points at you, lips pouting as his cock pulses in your hand.

You peck his lips, tighten your hand around him and twist your wrist. He moans loudly, his head falls back. 

«Fuck» he cries. 

«You’re so beautiful» you whisper. 

«Want you to feel so good» 

He nods lazily, his eyes shut. Your hand is… perfect. Just perfect. It makes him thaw under you, for you, until he’s just whining and moaning, totally lost.

«You- nnngh- you do» 

You push his hair behind his ears, you don’t think you’ve ever felt this feeling. This kind of excitement while doing something for someone else, only for him. This part of you is his, tied and bound to his soul.

«All the time» he shivers.

«Every fucking time you- fuck» his moan is high pitched, desperate. He’s losing his mind, it’s too much when you stroke his cock and have your pretty eyes looking at him so sweetly, holding all the love he always wished to get from you. It’s too much, and he just wants to explode.

«Every fucking time, you don’t even realise,» he shakes his head «you- you just, fuck I love you» 

It’s brutal, how he takes your face in his palm and pushes your lips onto his, brutal for your heart. Such a crook.

The kiss is messy, sloppy, totally heedless. He just wants you close, it’s just for the sake of feeling you more, and it makes you so wet you feel your juices drip down your asshole.

«Love you- so fucking much» he whines. You kiss him more, stroke his cock until his balls are tight and Jungkook is squirming on the bed, his sounds creating the perfect melody for your ears, his pleasure skyrocketing until he just knows he has to stop you. 

His hand wraps around yours, stopping your movements. 

«Want you,» he hisses «wanna cum inside you while I feel you close» you couldn’t resist such a plea even if you wanted to. 

You smile at him and nod, your skin is on fire just at the thought of it. Jungkook’s hand tickles your side as it descends on your hip, his digits dig into your skin. He goes to sit up but you stop him with your hand on his chest. 

«Huh?» he hums puzzled, his lips forming an “o” and his eyebrows high.

«Let me» you smile. Fuck, he feels like cuming already.

«Let me take care of you» you whisper. Jungkook hisses as he lays back down, soft strands of hair spread on the pillow and starry eyes look at you while you straddle him. He doesn’t know if you resemble more an angel or the devil himself with your love surrounding him and your dangerous touch, but maybe you’re the collision of both. 

You lay down to kiss his lips, a soft and gentle kiss that makes him yearn even more just because it’s ohso lovely. 

He must’ve been blessed, cause when you let your hips grind against him and he feels the warmth of your core he feels like he’s in heaven. Maybe you’re an angel, most definitely the prettiest of all. 

Your lips feels so fucking good that his cock jerks and he has to hold back himself from cuming.

«Fuck, wait-» he hisses. 

«I don’t think I can- I need to desensitise a bit or I- I’ll cum» 

You stop your movements and lean down to kiss him some more. You caress his cheek, Jungkook’s arm can’t help but keep you close and tight against him. Your soft breasts feel so good against the hardness of his chest, your hair hanging down from the side of your face. His hand squeezes your asscheek and a cheeky grin appears on his face.

«Feels so good to get to do this» he pipes. 

«You used to do that before too» you snigger and he squeezes your flesh once more.

«Only in bed» he laughs. You shake your head and pinch his right nipple lightly, watching as he keens and brings his hand to cover the injured part.

«Why?» he whines with his eyes closed. You lay down and kiss the tip of his nose.

«I get to do this too» you coo. He sighs deeply and glares at you, lips pouty.

«You used to do this before too» he murmurs. You smile at him.

«Not in bed? I should’ve and could’ve but I didn’t. I had to try» 

«Fuck, you’re so annoying» he groans even though a big smile is already stretching on his lips. It’s beautiful how the change of your relationship didn’t change the way you act around each other, the same old habits and teases. 

«Should I kiss it for you?» you laugh. Jungkook peeks at you from his half lidded eyes.

«Do I get to kiss your ass when I’m outside of bed?» 

Your laugh fills the room, the apples of your cheeks full. He pushes you onto him, his hand coming to your face, he kisses your lips, pecks your nose and your cheeks, your forehead too. Silence spread in the air as he pours his love onto you with caresses and little sighs, totally rapturous.

You kiss his neck, his clavicles, his shoulders and his pecs, lick on his nipple. Jungkook squirms under you and a second later you’re… kissing it. He laughs out loud, his giggles are high pitched and he scrunches his nose as he lets his head fall back on the pillow. So fucking cute, you think. You want to keep him in your pocket and never let go.

«Are we ready to go?» you giggle as he still laughs. Jungkook nods, eyes bright. His bangs are messy and you take some time to brush them with your fingers as his chuckles summer down. 

«It’s gonna be messy again, come on» he whines. 

«So impatient,» you sigh «let me make my baby pretty» you coo. Jungkook whines again.

«Please,» he strokes your back «wanna be inside you» 

«Mmh, ‘kay baby» you hum against his lips. You nuzzle your nose into his neck, blow on it just to hear the sound of his humming when he shudders under you as you take a hold of the base of his cock. He’s so hard that you let out a dreamy sigh, totally in love with the feeling of him in your hand. Jungkook’s hips stutter up, his cheeks paint of red when his eyes meet you and you wonder if it’s just the warmth of the room or your effect on him.

Your core brushes against him and he releases a soft yearning hum. You sit up, breast on full sight and eyes on him as you push yourself onto him. It’s so fucking wet and tight and delicious that he doesn’t ever want to leave your pussy. Fuck, he’d spend every second of the day inside you if he could. 

«So tight» he moans. You slowly fill yourself up with him, he grabs your breasts and squeezes them, fumbles your soft flesh as you start to move unrushed. You’re so beautiful on top of him, so pretty. All for him and him only. 

«Talk to me» Jungkook wants to hear your words as you ride him. The position is totally new to the both of you but fuck, it feels perfect. He fills you up so good that your walls pulsate all around him, getting to see him under you with his big dark eyes on your face makes you want to spoil him in all the love he showered you with the last time and even more, you want him to feel totally engulfed by it, from how much you love him. 

«Love it, I love your cock» you moan. You put your weight on your hands on the bed, leaning back a little as his cock hits the perfect spot inside you. Jungkook pinches your nipple, your breasts look so good that he wishes he could kiss your skin. He watches them bounce with every move, feels his cock throb and leak precum inside you. It’s so fucking wet, your juices mixed together and god, the sounds you make could make him crazy.

«How much?» he hisses. You bite your lips.

«So much baby» you whine. His hand reaches your clit, he rubs it gently with his thumb and looks at your face. His heart pounds wildly, you turn him on so much that he has to restrain himself every time. However, now he wants you close and even though he’s loving the way you’re taking him so good, your body is too far for him. 

«Love» he calls out putting both of his hands on your hips and staring up at you. You look down at him, his skin is a bit sweaty and his lips red from all the kisses you shared. Jungkook sits up.

«Want you closer, please» he maffles. 

«Let me open my legs so I can hold you» 

You let his cock pull out, the loss of contact makes you grimace and Jungkook smiles endeared as he pinches your cheek. He opens his thighs, his cock stands proud against his abdomen, so pretty. He guides you onto him, your thighs over his and your pussy back on him. His hands grab the flesh of your ass, his face hides in the crook of your neck and he breathes in your scent as you take him back into your heaven. Like this, he thinks he could die happily. Fuck, so close and perfect. The contact of your skin makes him breathless, the feeling of you all over him, so tight that not a single inch isn’t against him. The way you hug his cock makes his head spin, how you grind your hips into him and dig your nails into his back. Your moans in his ears, he captures every single and makes sure that the next one comes out because you’re feeling even better. He rubs your clit, sucks your nipples, kisses your neck, keeps you close until your sweats mix and all he can do is breathe you in.

«You’re perfect» you whisper. His heart trembles, all the defences he had to put on for all these years without even realising are down on the floor, totally scattered in pieces. They burn into ashes, fire takes over them completely until there’s nothing left but haze, and then there’s you. You on top of him, you under him, you on his lips, you in his mind, just you. You’re everywhere, part of him. 

«I was so stupid-» you hiss as he kisses your cheek «fuck, how could I not see it?» 

His nose nuzzles into your cheek and he pecks your skin repeatedly, his thumb rubbing faster on your clit.

«Ssh, we’re- nngh fuck, we’re here now» he reassures.

«Never wanna leave you,» you mumble «never» 

Jungkook feels like crying suddenly. There’s a knot in his throat that tastes like pain, like all the tears he shed and every night he spent thinking about you. All the worry that he felt when you weren’t with him, the feeling of loveliness without you by his side, the feeling of not being enough to be seen, to be considered as more. It all gets back to him and his eyes burn, his vision becomes foggy, his breath ragged for the pleasure of having you here. 

«Baby,» he whines «feel like crying» his voice trembles. 

You stop your movements, totally focus on him. Jungkook shakes his head though, pushes you onto him more to make you keep going.

«Just make love to me» he whispers. 

«I still can’t- still can’t believe you’re mine» 

«I’m yours» you don’t wait a second more to let it out. You watch him beam with his eyes glossy and can’t help but kiss him. You kiss all of his worries away, every single one. As you make love to him so sweetly, they all melt. He cries, salty tears mix with your kisses, your hands dry them and you kiss the path they walked on. You spoil him with your touch, your caresses, even your breath on his skin. Jungkook can’t even speak properly from the feeling in his chest. 

«I love you, love»

«Fuck, oh god- call me that again» he moans. He lets his head fall back as you keep moving, the expanse of his neck displayed for you. You let your hand trace it and then do the same for his chest, rub his nipples and hear him moan.

«My love» you repeat, breath rough.

«Mine, you’re mine»

«Fuck yes,» he whimpers «yours baby» 

You want to make him cum. You want to see him shake in pleasure and contract his abs, you want everything he can give and more. Your hand travels farther down, Jungkook squeezes your ass again as he feels your touch graze his skin until you get to his balls. They’re wet with your juices, so tight and full of cum for you. He moans loudly, his mouth attaches your neck as you caress them sweetly in your hand. Your touch is so gentle and his cock feels so fucking good, his body feels like levitating from how much you’re giving him. It’s too much to hold back.

«God, you’re- you’re going to make me-» he howls «cum» he shudders.

You kiss him deeply, your tongues in each others mouth and your eyes closed, foreheads touching and hearts glued to each other. 

«Cum for me» you breathe on his lips.

«Cum inside me, show me how you cum for me, love» 

His eyes open, eyebrows furrow as he moans. You kiss him more, spoil him totally. You whisper how much you love him, how good he feels inside you, how beautiful he is. Until it’s fucking unbearable, his cock twitches and all he can do is let go. Jungkook groans, digs his nose into your neck in such a desperate way that you feel your heart being wrapped tightly and squeezed almost to the point that you can’t breathe anymore, his whimpers come out muffled on your skin, his cum filling you up totally as you keep moving on top of him and in his hold. You cum with his moans in you ears as you milk him dry, the room spinning and your legs shaking. You collapse in his arms, feel him sob in your hold. Even when you don’t realise it you kiss his hair, stroke his back as your body feels light and wobbly, totally lost in its high. You cup his cheeks and peck his lips, the mole right under, the one on his nose, his forehead. Jungkook never wants to let go. 

«Cuddles» he murmurs on your neck right after, hiding from the world. You nod lazily, his cock still inside you. 

It’s weird, the roads that love takes and the path it walks onto. It’s odd, how it can blossom without asking for permission, how it grows and spreads, takes over everything it finds on its way. It’s beautiful, how Jungkook clings onto you like you’re love itself and you do the same for him, roots intertwined and shared soil in the same pot, one soul fixed together with pieces of each other, like it’s always been. Since you were sixteen and he was nineteen, for all these years. And for many more to come

Read more about Closer here: Closer: Too Close (Teaser)

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Taglist: @p-i-e-d-p-i-p-e-r, @kaitlynlovesbm, @bytheinaya, @jub-jub, @taolucha, @minayas1998, @seoulrenebae-blog, @ppeachyttae, @gluk97, @jk97bam, @diorh0seokie, @gwsjungkookie, @moonlikemeh, @skzthinker, @eyssdumpie, @sleepy-sae, @jjkw-7, @singularityjes, @vvicaddiction, @kimchijeonjk @jungkookieeee97

#jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook one shot #jk angst #jk x reader #jk fanfic #jk fanfiction #jk fic #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #bts masterlist #jungkook masterlist #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jk x y/n #jk x you #jeon jungkook oneshot #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x you #bts one shot #bts ot7 #bts masterpost #jungkook drabble #jk fluff #bts smut