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heesdreamer · 3 months

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PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ Four years after he disappeared from your life your childhood friend and love returns back to town completely changed.

WARNINGS ➩ Heeseung is an addict and not a super amazing person, broken people with bad communication skills, rough smut, like quick hate sex basically. Super angst but I hope it’s still a good read lol… based in the late 90s early 2000s

WC ➩ 11k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ A bit nervous to be posting here again after five months since I’m pretty rusty but hopefully you’ll take it easy on me lol. No part two for this and it’s an open ending (my favorite) so infer what you’d like but feel free to ask me anything about the story or the characters! Hope it’s okay and I missed you guys. NOT PROOFREAD

Summer was pretty much the constant season where you grew up outside of the few weeks the sun disappeared and the rain turned the beaches grey.

You appreciated the break every year considering it just made the heat coming back feel ten times better, that first day being able to run into the ocean again always feeling like your towns personal version of new year.

Let the salt water wash away your sins and the tears that had long dried on your sun kissed cheeks.

Your town had been spared from tourist for most of your childhood even though it’s definitely gained traction during more recent years if the alarming amount of people outside the local diners said anything.

The locals didn’t mind as long as they cleaned up their empty bottles of sunscreen from the public beaches and didn’t interfere with the abundance of native wild life.

You definitely didn’t mind considering you were on your sixth year working at the smoothie shop just a block away from the most popular beach and you enjoyed suckering large families out of large tips by giving them basic fun facts about the area they could use for their vacation.

It was the least you could do as somebody who lived in a permanent one.

This years version of those rainy few weeks came in the suddenly deliverance of news you’d never even imagined hearing let alone prepared yourself to deal with.

“Hey.” Jake sounded out of breath as he crashed through the flimsy door of the smoothie shop, hair wet from either just leaving the beach where he worked as a lifeguard or from the slight drizzle that had started to pick up.

“Hey, don’t get my floor wet. Assuming you’re off this week?” You were folding cleaning rags in preparation for closing up the shop for the next few days due to the news channel continuously warning the locals of a storm coming.

Jake rolled his eyes at your light scolding but you noticed that he did avoid sitting on the stools or touching anything he could get his wetness on.

“Oh so it’s your floor now?” He was cocking an eyebrow up as he looked at you and now it was your turn to roll your eyes, a light smile on your face at the teasing.

You’d know Jake the same amount of time you had known pretty much anybody living in the town which was basically the entire sum of your life. All the kids went to the same small school district and everyone’s parents knew each other to some capacity so there’d never been a time you didn’t know him and your other friends.

“So…” Your extensive knowledge of him made it even more obvious that he was about to tell you something you didn’t want to hear, his tone changing to the same one he used whenever he had to let the beach goers know the waters weren’t safe. “He’s back in town.”

The mood in the small shop changed immediately and you tensed up from where you were still folding the rags, placing the one you were working on back down onto the counter and squeezing it with your hand.

You noticed the rain picking up outside and it was almost ironic how it seemed to match your mood.

“Oh.” That was all you could manage to say and Jake dropped his shoulders in defeat at your dull reaction. “No Jakey thanks for telling me that’s.. it’s nice to have a heads up.”

Neither one of you spoke for a few seconds and you let the sound of the wind whipping around the thin metal panels of the roof distract you just enough to stop you from immediately bombarding him with questions. You didn’t need him to know how much you cared even though you knew he already did.

“Did- did you see him?”

“Saw his mom at the market on my lunch break.” He was watching you so intensely that it was starting to annoy you. He looked like he was waiting for you to explode and you were considering giving him what he wanted just so he’d stop staring like that. “They’re like.. well he’s back in the old house so I’m assuming that means… yeah.”

He was awkward in his delivery but you understood exactly what he meant, your old friend wasn’t just back in town for a vacation or a trip down memory lane but instead he was back for at least the near future.

Your head hung low as you tried your best to not react outwardly but the humorless scoff left your mouth before you could stop it and you heard Jake sigh near the door.

Luck was at least in your favor considering the news was right and the rain didn’t stop for another four days meaning you and the boys didn’t have work and there was no chance of you running into the exact person you wanted to avoid.

You spent your days at Sunghoon’s house which was on the other side of town from where you and the rest of your friends lived.

Sunghoon had been the last person to join your small group and he almost hadn’t been accepted considering he didn’t go to the same school and actually didn’t live there at all. His father was beyond wealthy and owned a nice property up on the hill, a place you and your friends used to sit on the beach and stare at while daydreaming about living there.

He came down every winter from the city so him and his dad could escape the cold and icy roads and then he’d leave again once the temperature picked up.

Naturally this made him a bit of an outcast compared to the rest of you who grew up together and spent nearly every single day hanging out and playing on the beaches but you liked him nonetheless.

He wasn’t as spoiled as you figured he probably could have been and if anything he was actually pretty sheepish whenever someone mentioned how much money he constantly had at his disposal.

You’d all tease him until he bought you snacks and ice cream in bulk just to get you off his back, a silent peace offering.

An even more silent ‘I’m sorry you’re poor and I’m not’.

Once you all got older and his dad got too tired to continue the travel back and forth just to avoid some snow, Sunghoon would come by himself just to see you all and you imagined it was any day now before he decided to stay for good.

The image from their hillside property was breathtaking even through the storm, floor to ceiling windows that you’d perch yourself on while the others slept. It had a perfect view of the biggest beach and the mountains behind it and despite growing up with it as your backdrop, you never got used to it.

“Can’t sleep?” Riki’s voice was echoing through the nearly empty living room, a feat of Sunghoon’s dad practically moving out.

You turned your head to see him shuffling towards you in his pajamas with an open bottle of wine in his hands. He was taking a swig before nudging your leg with his hand so you would move it and he could sit down beside you with a groan.

His back was against the other side of the windowsill and your legs were crossing over his in a mirror image but he looked just as exhausted as you figured you did and it was sort of comforting to know you weren’t the only one handling this bad.

“When do I ever sleep?” Your hand was sticking out as you spoke and he took one more sip of the wine before handing the bottle over to you.

Your face pulled into a grimace at the sour taste and he laughed softly at the reaction before leaning forward to snatch it back and keep it away from you. You looked back out the window but you could feel him staring at you now and you sighed.

Riki had been around just as long as Jake had but he was also your neighbor which added another layer of familiarity. There was no hiding your family issues with him like you attempted with the others because he was one window away and often the person you ran to when things got too hard.

“Saw him in town you know, before we headed up here.” He was starting off in a whisper like he was testing the waters and you were getting sick of people treating you like a loose canon when it came to this. “He looks different.”

“Obviously. He was a kid last time we saw him and he’s what, 20 now?” You phrased it like you weren’t too sure but both of you were aware that you knew his exact age. You’d never forgotten his birthday and your mood soured every year on that day for the past four times it cycled past.

“21.” Riki clarified anyways and you appreciated that you both pretended you’d be able to make that mistake. “And I don’t just mean he grew up I mean he looks terrible.”

Your stomach turned uncomfortably as graphic images made their way into your mind and you squeezed your eyes tight at the thought of him and what he could possibly look like now.

“Why are you telling me this Riki?” You sounded hurt and lost and you felt his leg nudging yours again like he was either trying to comfort you or snap you out of the tense state you’d fallen into. You opened your eyes and stared at him and the way the moonlight highlighted the side of his face.

“I told him I’d meet him for lunch once the storm cleared up.” He said it slowly and that made it that much easier for you to hear the overwhelming guilt in his voice. “I’d like for you to be there. I’m asking you to be there.”

Your face fell flat but he didn’t stop looking at you as he dropped the bomb and you almost wanted to shy away from the intense gaze just waiting for you to show that you cared.

“You can’t ask me that.” It came out as a whisper and you hated how weak you sounded at just the idea of seeing him.

“But I am.”

—

Two days later the clouds were gone like they’d never been there and the unrelenting heat was building back up at full force. You all returned down from the hillside property with raging hangovers and a suffocating promise.

You tried to ignore your phone ringing on the wall because you knew who it was, or at least could guess out of three names but it was pointless considering Riki was right next door and the ringing soon turned to knocks at your window.

So you told yourself you agreed to the lunch because you were sick of being harassed about it and it was not because you needed to see him for yourself.

If anything this was your chance to prove you didn’t care about him and you just had never felt that level of loss before. It wouldn’t kill you to hear his voice and listen to the way it’s changed over the lost time and you’d be able to get through the meal with a few awkward conversations before getting to go back to your regular life.

You were immediately proven wrong the second you pushed into the restaurant and you would have stopped in your tracks if it wasn’t for Riki’s guiding hand on your lower back.

He worked at this restaurant and it was directly on the shore of the beach so despite it being busy post storm he was easily maneuvering you through it towards the table.

You stayed back a few feet as the boy stood up and went to greet your other friends, a few awkward seconds passing like they didn’t know wether to shake hands or hug before Jake was moving forward and pulling the older boy into a tight embrace.

Sunghoon was doing the same and rubbing the back of his head comfortably before Riki gave him a familiar pat on the shoulder due to the fact they’d already gone through the first encounter nerves.

The three boys immediately climbed into the booth and started to flip through the menus to give you some privacy even though you all knew they’d eaten the same things here since they were kids and knew every dish like the back of their hand.

You still appreciated the gesture considering the second he looked at you your heart clenched painfully and you suddenly felt like you were 17 again.

“Hey y/n.” His voice was low as he spoke but you could still hear it enough to notice you barely recognized it. It had dropped a few octaves and it was painfully raspy.

“You look like shit Hee.” Your blunt words and the use of the familiar nickname made him scoff out a laugh and he nodded his head in agreement to your insult.

He truly did even though you were just trying to tease him and loosen the atmosphere. He was ten shades paler than the rest of you but you had a feeling it wasn’t due to him not being around the sun all the time anymore. He looked nearly sickly and your stomach turned the more you saw the signs of that being true.

His eyes looked tired and sad but what was the worst change was how skinny he was. He’d always been thin but now he was towering over you and still looking like a strong wave could take him out.

He sniffed uncomfortably because of your intense gaze and your eyes honed in on his prominent wrist bone and the way he flicked at his nostril.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the action and he immediately lowered his arm like he’d just been caught doing something, confirming your belief.

The silence was awkward but luckily one of Riki’s coworkers was approaching to get your drinks and you scooted past the tall boy so you could slide in the booth besides Sunghoon.

It was unusual for you to be nearly silent and not engaging in the conversation but you couldn’t really handle trying to fumble your way through acting like everything was normal like the others were.

You started to wonder if they really did think it was just a normal meal while catching up with a childhood friend.

It blew your mind to consider that maybe they didn’t see the way Heeseung was constantly bouncing his knee and picking apart his napkin or the fact he’d barely taken a bite of food the entire time. Did they not see his fidgeting eyes and the fact he looked sick every glance he took towards your direction.

The boys did their best to fill the silence without bringing up anything that would let Heeseung know how much he’d missed out on and soon enough everyone was having to go back to work.

You’d gotten the day off since the storm had drastically killed off the tourist that make up 90% of your daily customers and you could tell the boy across from you felt a bit lost when everyone stated their plans for the rest of the day.

“Did you maybe want to go to the beach with me?” You had no idea why you were inviting him but by the time you noticed the shocked look on your friends faces, it was too late and the offer was hanging heavily in the air.

He looked around like he wasn’t quite sure you were talking to him and his eyes were a little more alert when he finally turned back to face you.

“Uh yeah sure.”

Riki gave you a cautious look as you left and Sunghoon parted you with a swift kiss on the cheek and another firm hug for Heeseung. Jake was heading to the same place as you for his shift as a lifeguard so it made the walk down the street a little less awkward.

The roles reversed from lunch and now it was Heeseung’s turn to fall silent while you and Jake softly joked and made casual commentary on the damage the storm had did. You would have forgotten he was there at all if not for his constantly sniffling and the fact his presence shifted your entire atmosphere.

“Be safe yeah?” You weren’t sure if it was meant to have a double meaning but Jake made your stomach turn as he left your side to head to the watch tower.

Heeseung was clearing his throat beside you but you ignored him in favor of finding an umbrella to sit near, not quite under so you could still feel the sun on your skin. He opted for sitting directly under the shade and you were brought back to when you were kids and he was always the last one inside.

He was impossible to tame and get out of the water even long after the sun set and the parents began to call you all home but he couldn’t be more different now.

Memories of his freckled tan face smiling at you, eyes squinted against the bright sky with his hand above his eyebrows to try and block it so he could see you better. His laugh always the loudest sound over the crashing waves and the way it felt when he’d wrap his arms around you to throw you into the water.

Now he was practically curling in on himself to avoid the rays and he looked almost pained at the sounds of the kids playing and splashing around.

It was hard to believe this was the same boy who had you convinced there was salt water in his veins.

“Since when are you getting high?”

You didn’t sound at all accusatory in your question, just plainly asking for an answer to the obvious but he immediately tensed up and sent a glare that would have you believing you’d gotten it wrong if it wasn’t for the embarrassment in his eyes.

He took a few seconds to answer but you extended your thin patience towards him and waited.

“I’m not anymore.” He had a funny tone to his that almost sounded like he was saying an inside joke, something you clearly didn’t understand and your face furrowed. “That’s why I’m here actually.”

Your mouth was parting in realization and you couldn’t help the bitter laugh that slipped out of you. You felt overwhelmingly stupid in that moment but it wasn’t necessarily your fault for not assuming the worst about his intentions.

“Here I thought you were back because you actually missed us. Didn’t realize this was your rehab.” He didn’t look amused anymore and you were struck by how much you wanted to see him smile at you again.

He nodded and looked away from you and that was enough for you to realize the conversation was over.

—

four years ago

You’d never been anywhere else but you had a hard time believing any other place could measure up to what you were experiencing now.

The sounds of your lifelong friends splashing each other and laughing as they took unexpected blows from the waves, bodies crashing through the surface of the water and pushing back through with groans of playful annoyance.

You knew the sun was setting soon which meant the head lifeguard (who happened to be jake’s older brother) was going to usher you all back home and away from the water but you would have given anything for the moment to freeze.

Even if your butt was damp from the wet sand you were sitting on and you were starting to shiver from the lack of clothes paired with the disappearing heat.

You watched as another head popped out of the water before standing to his full height and glancing around like he was searching for something. His gaze stopped on you and a bright smile broke out on his face at the sight of you sitting on the beach and observing the scene.

It made you feel warm to see him brush off your friends and push through the water so he could get over to you, shaking his head to semi dry his hair and laughing when you squealed at the sudden wetness hitting you.

“You cold?” He was flopping down onto the sand next to you and his cold skin brushed yours for a second before you flinched away and groaned.

“Yeah but I think Jaeyun’s brother is gonna make us leave any second anyways.” You were scrunching your nose up as you looked over at him and he smiled up at you.

Heeseung always seemed to be smiling but especially in your direction.

You weren’t an idiot and you didn’t at all miss the fact that he was extra attached to you. You had a deeper bond than anybody else in the group and even though you weren’t exactly sure when the transition into something deeper happened, you were sure you both could feel it constantly bubbling under the surface.

It wasn’t something you felt like you needed to confess or say out loud officially because you had all the time in the world here with him.

“Come swim with us.” He was watching you as your hand reached over to swipe the drying sand off his forehead.

“Not happening Hee sorry.” You smiled when he groaned and rolled over onto his back, knowing you had made up your mind by the tone in your voice. “We can always swim tomorrow.”

—

Tomorrow never came because the next morning you were racing down to the Lee house with a plate of cinnamon rolls Riki’s mom had made and finding it almost completely empty.

Your heart had dropped into your stomach but you still slowly approached the familiar door and knocked against it softly.

Typically you didn’t even bother knocking considering you were there more than your own house but something was off and you suddenly felt like an intruder.

The sight of his grandma opening the door and giving you a pained expression when she saw it was you almost fully killed you and if that didn’t do it then the fact she softly whispered to you that he wasn’t going to be coming back anytime soon definitely did.

It was hard not to grab her by the shoulders and demand she tell you where he had gone and it was even harder to hold in your sobs as you ran all the way back to the house next to yours, bursting into Riki’s living room and climbing into his bed to cry while you waited for him to get off work.

He’d barely understood you through your blubbering sobs and when he did he was joining you in the bed and falling into a hurt silence.

The hurt rippled through you for months until you gathered the courage to ask his grandma for his address so you could write him a letter.

She was clearly reluctant but she gave it to you anyways and you spent all week writing it and expressing to him how you felt, both for him and about the fact he had left without saying goodbye. You wished she’d turned you down when it got sent right back unopened and the same thing happened for the next twenty after that.

You kept writing them for two years even though they’d always make their way back to the post office and at the end of that summer, you finally put the pen down.

At some point during the third year you’d gotten a postcard that had no writing on it or even a signature. It was just a blank card with a photo of some cartoonish cherry blossoms and a small river.

You somehow knew it was from him without any confirmation and you wept like a baby in the middle of all the mailboxes, hugging it to your chest and swearing you’d never let yourself feel like that again. You almost sent it back to him like he’d done to you for so long but instead you stuffed it under your pillow and tried to not feel it’s weight every night you slept.

Now four years later he was suddenly everywhere again.

He’d started to work at the surfboard rental shop across from your own place and he was practically at every single hangout like nothing had changed.

Except everything had changed and he was such a jarringly different person that you almost felt like you were hanging out with the corpse of your old friend.

“We’ve gotta get you some sun man.” Jake was disguising his concerns with some light teasing one of the days you all made your way up to Sunghoon’s place but you all knew Heeseung and his current state was the constant elephant in the room.

“Yeah.” His noncommittal low mumbling was about the most you got out of him these days and you sighed from where you were laying on the couch.

His empty gaze landed on you when you were standing up and pushing Sunghoon’s legs off of you (much to his annoyance). You approached him and stuck your hand out in his direction just to be met with a raised eyebrow and no movement.

“Cmon let’s go.” You were firm in your words and shaking your hand slightly to urge him to take it in his before you got too impatient. He sighed at you but did exactly that and you pushed aside the warmth that spread you in favor of pulling him up so he was standing.

You were slightly thrown off by how close he ended up next to you so you took a step back while raking over his tall frame and clearing your throat.

“I’m sick of your moping.” You didn’t expect him to continue holding your hand after you pulled him up but you took advantage of the opportunity and started to tug him behind you as you walked towards the doors.

Heeseung stayed silent as you dragged him outside and down the long sandy steps that led down the hillside and onto the small private beach that the park family owned. You never hung out there much as kids considering you weren’t allowed to surf here and you preferred the large waves and active community of the public one but it would do for now.

“What are we doing?” He was finally speaking once you dropped his hand and turned to look at him.

“Going swimming obviously.” You were pulling your shirt over your head the second you finished speaking so you just barely saw his reaction to your hands grabbing the bottom hem.

It was long enough that you managed to watch his eyes widen and drop down to the sudden skin showing but he somehow was able to have a blank expression again by the time you got it off and tossed it onto the sand carelessly.

You’d turned to walk closer to the water but you stopped and looked over your shoulder when you realized he wasn’t following you anymore.

“Cmon.” Your thumbs pushed down the hem of your shorts to showcase the rest of your bikini and now you heard him scoff a laugh as the water touched your ankles.

The water was unusually cold from the few cloudy days you’d had but you were determined now to get him to have some fun and open up a little bit before he really started to bum the rest of you out.

You fought your smile when you heard light splashing behind you and when you finally turned around you were thrown off by the amount of pale skin you were seeing. Obviously you knew he’d have to take off his shirt to get in the water but you were mainly stuck on the changes to his body.

He’d clearly filled out, something you could have guessed from the height, and now he looked surprisingly strong unlike his lanky frame he had when you were younger. Outfit of his ribs slightly showing, he definitely had some muscle definition that you looked away from immediately.

Your eyes landed on what was even more jarring and he surprisingly didn’t shy away when you scanned over the bruising covering his stomach and sides.

You met his gaze for just a second and he just stood there with the light ripples hitting his belly button.

“Get into some trouble?” Your question was light and almost teasing so he had room to ignore you. You didn’t want to bombard him for answers especially since it wasn’t really your place anymore.

If this had been four years ago, you would have wrapped him up in your arms and demanded to know who possibly could have hurt him but that boy wasn’t here anymore. He definitely wasn’t the cold one standing in front of you.

“Something like that.” His response was as uncharacteristic as you expected it to be and you simply nodded your head before waiting for him to catch up to you.

He was up to his chest now in the water and you were starting to struggle to stay afloat which seemed to amuse him if the quirk of his lips told you anything.

“Isn’t this nice?” Your voice was quieter now and you almost face palmed at how nervous and unnatural you sounded.

Heeseung was just watching you like you were the one who had changed but there was something heavy in his eyes now. You almost flinched at the feeling of his warm leg brushing yours under the water once he was finally starting to relax and float a little but you managed to collect yourself.

He hummed in agreement but you could tell he was just doing it to give you the answer he knew you wanted to hear.

You wondered if the cold water felt good on his bruises or if you were just making him feel worse by trying to help.

“Surprised you didn’t bring the others.” He was talking again surprisingly and now he was fully floating on his back with his gaze set on the sky and the colors of the setting sun. “Since you and Sunghoon are so close now.”

The jealous tone of his voice was not something you were used to and you didn’t realize he could sound even less like himself until he proved you wrong.

Heeseung and you had always been each others number ones and he’d never had to doubt his position in your life before but it made you blood boiling mad that he had such an accusatory tone now like you’d done something wrong.

Did he expect you to sit around and mope forever, holding out hope that he’d maybe decide to return one day despite not even knowing where he’d gone?

“We’ve always been close Heeseung. We all are.” Your voice was stable despite how the opposite you felt and something unsaid was being heard loudly in your choice of words.

For the first time since he came back, you were blatantly excluding him from the group. None of you were teenagers anymore and you’d been through a decade of stories and experiences just in the last few years as you transitioned into adults.

Maybe the sight of him now, grown up and empty, wouldn’t have hurt so bad if you watched it happen slowly instead of all at once. Maybe it wouldn’t have happened this way at all and he would have been a totally different person with your influence.

You immediately felt guilty and gross for giving yourself that much credit.

“It’s different now though.” He seemed set in his idea that you and Sunghoon had some secret deeper bond and you didn’t even try to argue with him this time.

“You’re different.” The response you settled with was pretty petty and he seemed to agree judging by the way he scoffed but he was sitting up and moving a tad closer to you in the water.

“Yeah well you’re exactly the same.” He said it so simply that you couldn’t tell if it was meant to be an insult, compliment or simply just an observation. He was either calling you immature or making a callback to how your relationship used to be.

You figured it was the latter when his hand was brushing against your waist under the water.

“Not all of me.” Your voice had gotten lower now as you realized the mood was shifting to something you’d not experienced with him before.

You’d always found Heeseung attractive obviously but he was so young and you weren’t exactly the age either where you were thinking about him in this way. Sure, he’d been touchy back then with his hand in yours or an arm around your waist as you walked together but never with this look in his eye.

It felt wrong to have him shifting even closer to you, bare chest and his wet hair almost covering his eyes as he stared down due to your newfound height difference.

Mainly the wrong feeling came due to the fact that you barely knew him now and you didn’t want to get to know him like this. You wished it had happened naturally, your friendship had returned when he did and so did your comfortability and maybe eventually the love buried deep in your chest.

But you were so desperate to feel something from him, anything that might indicate he had once cared about you. So you didn’t push him away when he leaned down to kiss you.

His mouth was hot against yours and suddenly all of the teasing touches and heavy glances made a lot more sense.

He had a desperation you didn’t expect and your head was spinning by the time he was pulling you even closer by your waist and slotting his knee in between your legs under the water.

“Hee.” You breathed out his name as he licked into your mouth and he shushed you impatiently, not wanting to give you the chance to stop him before he’d even gotten to really have you.

You weren’t going to and your hips were rolling against his leg, the water hitting higher up on your stomach and making you gasp from the cold and how it splashed over your covered chest.

He seemed to notice considering he was impatiently pulling the fabric of your bikini top away from your skin and you moaned when his mouth was leaving yours in favor of hungrily connecting with your hard nipples. The warmth of his mouth made you spin and you held the back of his head against your chest.

His knee was rocking under you and you kept grinding yourself down on it, free hand wrapping around his back and feeling the muscles clench everytime he moved himself towards you.

“Hee.” you gasped out his name again and this time he atleast hummed in acknowledgement, big hands gripping your waist and forcing you to keep moving against him.

“Cmon y/n, stop fucking talking.” His mouth was back on yours and this time it was you who immediately licked into his closed lips, the sound of his low voice spurring you on even more.

He was lifting you out of the water and your legs wrapped around his waist so you wouldn’t fall. You didn’t even realize he’d be strong enough to lift you but he seemed to have no problem as he started walking towards the shore and you rolled your hips into his hard on that you could now feel pressing against you.

Your mouth parted when you felt how hard he was already and he laid you gently down onto the sand before climbing ontop of you and kissing you again.

This time his body was covering you and you whined when his hips lowered down on yours.

He was sitting up for only a second so he could finish untying your bathing suit and tugging it off of you and you watched as his eyes locked hungrily on your bare chest while you panted heavily.

Your eyes were big and wanting as you stared up at him and the sight was almost too much so he went back to kissing you deeply.

His body was still just as wet as yours and the feeling of his hot skin warming up what the water had cooled was almost as addicting as the way he rolled his hips down slowly.

“Fuck y/n.” He was groaning into your neck and you inhaled at the way he was biting the skin and definitely leaving marks on you. “Used to be mine remember?”

You were shaking your head in disagreement but the way you were rocking your hips and holding onto the back of his head was very telling, you might as well have had his name carved on you.

“Gonna make you mine again.”

Heeseung was pushing your bathing suit bottoms to the side and playing with the waistband of his before impatiently shoving them down onto his thighs. You were both hurt by his impatience and extremely turned on by the fact he was about to take you on the beach without even fully undressing you.

“Tell me you want it.” His tongue licked up to your ear and you gasped at the feeling of his thick head pressing against your wetness, your legs spreading automatically for him.

“Want it. Want it Hee.” You were breathing heavily and trying to fuck yourself down on him even though it was pointless considering how strong his grip on your waist was, pinning you down against the sand and feeling the way you arched up into him when he started to push himself inside.

The slide was easy and your cry was loud enough that you almost worried the other boys would be able to hear you.

“Fucking tight.” His voice was strained as he spat the words through gritted teeth and you clenched around him at the praise, wanting to make him feel as good as he was so easily doing to you. “Perfect pussy for me, sliding right in. So wet y/n.”

His constant use of your name made you feel even more insane and you whined louder when he bottomed out inside you. Heeseung didn’t waste any time before he was starting to roughly fuck into you and it was exactly what you needed after years of pent of anger and emotions.

“Fuck me hard Hee.” You begged him through your cries and he gladly delivered exactly what you needed, slamming his hips against yours so fast it was painful. “Fucking hate you.”

“Hate you so much.” His rebuttal was quick and he caught your mouth in a rough kiss as he spoke, teeth hitting yours making you wince in pain.

“Show me. Fuck me like you hate me.”

He was doing what you asked without any question and you almost broke from how much you could feel it radiating off of him, hate and anger stemming from something you didn’t even understand.

Then it was over before you even processed it started and you were both left panting on the sand as the sun finished setting and the sand underneath you dried.

Heeseung was rolling away from you to land on his back with a grunt and your entire body shivered when you felt his arm pressing against yours and giving you a little bit of warmth that barely made up for how cold you felt all over.

Everything surrounding you was cold now and him not saying a single world just made it ten times worse.

You were hit with shame and guilt tenfold and tears were springing to yours eyes before you could stop them. You vaguely heard him shifting next to you and sniffing loudly, your head turning to him.

Your eyes grew in size when you saw he’d dug something out of his discarded shirts pocket and was sitting up with his head turned away from you like it would make what he was doing any less obvious.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Your voice was low and venomous and your hands uncomfortably went to cover your chest as you sat up and scooted away from him. “You’re getting high?”

He didn’t even look over at you as he cleared his burning throat and shoved whatever the small capsule was back into his crumbled up shirt. The sight of him rolling his eyes like you were annoying him almost made you just sink into the ocean and disappear.

“Get dressed before they come down here and find you like that.” He was standing up as he spoke again and you hated that the tears were fully falling now, hot on your flushed cheeks.

Your shaking hands did their best to tie up your bikini top and he finally looked down at where you were still sitting on the sand and sobbing. You weren’t sure he could see the tears considering how dark it was now but when he turned his face away with a cold expression you knew that he had.

Heeseung was pulling his shift over his head and hesitating for just a few seconds while looking at the stairs back up to the house, almost like he was considering leaving you there.

“Who even are you?” You weren’t sure how you managed to speak so strongly through your cries but he clearly felt the impact of it as he tensed up and his jaw locked.

“Does it matter?”

——

After you’d gotten dressed you had stormed past him up the steps only after slamming your shoulder into his side and steeling your expression. He gave you a few seconds before he was following you up but he didn’t come inside when you got up there.

You’d gone up to Riki and quietly asked him if he could take you home, cold hands shaking as they gripped his wrist and eyes still swollen.

The other boys were silent when they saw the state of you and you just hoped they couldn’t guess what had happened, shame hitting you hard at even the idea of them finding out how you’d just been used and discarded so easily.

You sat there the entire car ride back to town with your head half out the window and the warm summer air doing it’s best to stop the tears from rolling down your face.

Riki didn’t ask you any questions and you were grateful when he pulled into his own driveway and not yours, not even realizing how much you didn’t want to go home until you saw your front door and felt the nausea building.

It was unspoken that he let you rot in the bed in the spare room for the first few days and by day three Jake was rubbing your back softly and trying to get you to eat something.

Sunghoon came and went constantly and you spent most nights with him laying beside you, not touching or speaking but just having him there. You weren’t sure if they’d figured it out or if Heeseung told them but something in you knew that they knew what happened.

You started to feel slightly better after a week of moping and letting yourself finally feel the heartbreak that’d be been building for so many years and after two weeks you were back to work.

If you spent more your shift looking out the window to try to get a glimpse of him in the shop across the street then that was your own personal secret.

He was still somebody you cared about as frustrating as that was but it still made you sick that you started to worry when you hadn’t seen him for a few weeks.

It had been almost a month since that night on the beach and you no longer could assume he was just avoiding you. The town was too small and you would have run into by now regardless if you wanted that or not so he’d either been completely isolating himself or he was gone again and you weren’t sure which one of those hurt you more.

“He’s still here.” Sunghoon’s voice was low next to your ear as you laid in his bed this time, giving Riki and his family a break even though he insisted they didn’t need or want one.

You still wanted to come up here with Sunghoon even though it was a bit hard considering what had happened last time but you figured it was hard for him to be in such a big house all by himself now that his dad wasn’t coming anymore.

“Did you talk to him?” You were rolling onto your stomach and looking at him with wide eyes and he sighed softly as he studied the hope on your face.

“Not really.” He was mumbling now and the pout your lips formed almost made him feel sick. “Just for a second. I was skating past his place.”

You were nodding in understanding but you felt weirdly settled that he hadn’t gone anywhere and he was seemingly here to stay despite how it always felt like he was trying his hardest to get away from you all. You should have get the times worse that he was around and you had a change to run into him sooner than later but you were an idiot at heart.

“He doesn’t deserve you being sad for him, you know that right?” Your hair was being pushed behind your ear by Sunghoon’s hand and you watched him as he stared.

He looked vulnerable and it made sense considering he was not the type of person to say things like that to anybody, especially not to you. Your heart hurt hearing it from somebody else but you gave a soft nod anyways despite not at all agreeing with what he was saying.

“I mean it. You’re like… the best thing any of us could even begin to imagine and he acts like you’re going to stay no matter how he treats you. He’s always been like that, you just didn’t want to see it.”

Your face fell as he kept talking and getting more and more upset. You’d had no idea he felt this way or even noticed things like that and you hated that you started to think about what Heeseung had insinuated before on the beach.

It made you feel overly warm to consider that Sunghoon might have some type of feelings towards you and yet here he was, laying in bed with you for days and comforting you after you let some asshole break your heart for the thousandth time.

“I’m not going to let him do that to me anymore Hoon.” You heard your voice as it came out and heard how obvious the lie was, knowing he did too when he was just blankly staring at you.

“You love him.” His response was curt but it hit you full force and you tried your best not to let any visible reaction show. “You chose him a long time ago.”

You weren’t sure if he was talking about you choosing Heeseung over yourself and your own well-being or if he was once again saying what you think he might have been.

The guilt coursed through you when you were laying your head down on his chest and listening to how fast his heartbeat started to pulse but you couldn’t look at his honest face anymore and the conversation needed to end before it was all too much.

It was only building more when the next morning you were writing him a note letting him know you’d be back soon before hitching a ride back into town.

You spent the entire hour it took getting to Heeseung’s house both trying to gather the courage to go through with your idea and also trying to talk yourself out of it, reaching a peak of panic when you were knocking softly on his door.

He took a long time to open and just as you were about to turn around and leave, there he was.

Standing in the doorway that you’d seen him in close to a thousands times but looking so different that it felt brand new. He didn’t look surprised to see you on his porch and that made you feel even shittier.

“You okay?” He surprised you with the question and how genuine it sounded but you kept your face flat.

“Are you okay?” You emphasized the word and shifted uncomfortably in place until he was stepping aside and letting you in the small house. “The boys are worried about you.”

If he knew you were lying than he didn’t mention it and you took a second to glance around the living room.

Not much had changed about it besides the numerous boxes that were either still unpacked or in the process of being put back away. You didn’t want to ask him and when you met his eyes again you could tell he didn’t want to answer.

“Well I’m fine.” His answer finally came and he was biting the inside of his cheek like he was trying not to say something.

He was such a mystery to you that it was genuinely started to get under your skin. He looked at you like you’d done something so terrible to him and you had absolutely no idea what was bothering him so much, especially since he was the one who had left you.

“You’re fine?” Your voice was flat and bitter and he nodded stiffly to which you scoffed and rubbed your face in annoyance. “So you don’t want to talk about it? You don’t think we should?”

“Go talk to Sunghoon if you want someone to talk emotions with.” His gaze was fiery on you and you almost flinched away from it like it really could have burned you.

You stared at him dumbfounded for a few breaths and the air in the living room was so tense you worried the walls would collapse from it. He actually looked slightly regretful after he said it which shocked you but it didn’t really matter since it was already in your head now.

Heeseung was taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair before looking at you one more time.

“I’ll get dressed and we can go.” You didn’t respond to him and your hurt stare was clearly making him uncomfortable. “Is that okay?”

You waited just a few more seconds before you were giving him a curt nod and covering your mouth from the shock of the entire conversation and whatever was happening between the two of you.

He was turning to walk down the hallway to his room but stopping midway and giving you a glance over his shoulder like he was making sure you hadn’t left.

Your shoulders lost all tension the second he was out of sight and you leaned against the wall to help hold you up, proud of yourself for not running out or embarrassingly tearing up again.

It was quiet for a long time and you didn’t even want to begin to imagine what was taking him so long to throw on a simple outfit but you’d begun to wander around the house while you waited, ending up in the kitchen.

“Oh y/n.”

The soft voice calling out for you had your head turning swiftly and your eyes widened when you saw his mom standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Ms Lee.” You sounded astonished and you hoped she wasn’t too offended by the fact you were standing in her house with your sandals still covered in sand. “I didn’t know you were home. I’m sorry to barge in.”

“Always such a sweet girl.” She waved her hands at you like you were ridiculous for apologizing for such a small thing and your heart warmed when she crossed the room to hold your face gently. “You’re friends with my son again? I’ll take that as a good sign.”

You smiled lightly and just nodded at her, not having the nerve to tell her you weren’t exactly friends and he definitely wasn’t doing as well as the hope in her voice led you to believe she thought he was.

“You were always so good for him. He worried so much about you never forgiving him for leaving but you must understand it wasn’t his fault.” Her hands were warm on your face and you felt a lot of guilt as she spoke.

You weren’t exactly sure you were supposed to be hearing this so you didn’t ask her any questions or pry.

Heeseung must’ve heard his moms voice because he looked flustered by the time he came out of his room, barely pulling his shirt over his head as he crossed into the kitchen and looked between the two of you.

“Ma, what are you doing back?” His voice sounded overly similar to how it used to as he comfortably addressed her and the difference shocked you.

“Don’t make me sound like such a bother.” She was lightly scolding him before letting go of your face and you immediately missed the warmth of her hands and gaze. “I was just telling y/n how happy I am you two are together again.”

Your eyes widened at the same time his did and your face flushed bright red at the implication that she thought you and Heeseung were dating now, along with how she apparently had thought you’d been dating beforehand too.

“Oh relax you two. I just mean together as in the same space.” She laughed and waved her hands in dismissal again but you definitely didn’t relax. “Where is he taking you?”

It took you a few seconds to realize she was addressing you and your mouth parted in silence, fumbling for an answer since you didn’t actually know where he was planning for the two of you to go.

“It’s a surprise Ma.” His voice was gentle and so was the kiss he laid on the side of her head, her eyes shutting happily as he kissed her teeth and rubbed him on his shoulder. “But we’ve gotta get going.”

She was shooing you away without another word and giving you a heavy glance that you didn’t really understand, following behind Heeseung as he led you out back through the side entrance that came out onto their driveway.

“Oh holy shit. You still have this thing?” You were curling your nose up at the sight of the old beat up pickup truck that his grandpa used to drive you all around in.

You always got the luxury of sitting on one of the other two seats inside since you were the only girl but all the boys had a blast everytime they had to pile into the bed and feel the wind drying them off as you drove home from the beaches and waterfalls.

Heeseung’s grandpa had died when you were about twelve and the truck sat in the driveway for many years until his grandma was giving him the keys for his 16th birthday, a wink and a swift warning before sending him off to pick you all up.

“I still remember you outside my house blaring on the horn.” You were smiling to yourself as you went around the front so you could climb into the passenger side, feeling the rough leather.

He was getting in a second after you and you tried your best to stare as he situated himself and cleared his throat before putting the truck into drive.

Your gaze on him made him glance your way as he was backing out but it barely lasted a blink before he was looking away.

You waited an hour before you were speaking again, spending the entire time with the windows down and the sound of the loud wind filling up whatever silence the old radio left. It was playing some tape his grandpa had left behind and his hands were tapping the steering wheel in time with it.

It felt the most like your old times with him than anything else had so far and you had to remind yourself that things were still different.

You may have taken this drive with him a dozen times but things had changed. His hand wasn’t on your knee drawing shapes and your eyes weren’t bright and filled with love as you laughed and yelled over the music together.

That picture was a lot warmer than what reality was and you glanced over at him again.

The mountains were stretching behind his side profile now that you were farther away from town than you usually went and he looked so relaxed and calm that you almost felt bad for ruining the silence.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going anytime soon?” You were turning your body so your back was against the car door and your legs were curled into the middle seat, a few inches from the side of his thigh.

He didn’t answer you right away and you scoffed in annoyance at his audacity to just ignore you straight to your face like he hadn’t been the one to invite you here. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked away from him in upset but he was pulling onto the side of the road and parking the car before you could get really mad.

You sat there for a few seconds while he gripped the steering wheel and you took the time to glance around the area.

It was a long dirt road with a lot of thick trees and bushy areas, no other cars or parking lots in site. You were beyond confused and if it was anyone else with you then you’d even feel a little scared but despite Heeseung feeling like a stranger, he wasn’t one.

“Are you okay with walking a bit?” His voice was low when he finally spoke and you noticed he sounded similar to how he did while talking to his mom earlier, your heart tugging at how casual he was being towards you after weeks of hearing him sound so angry and empty.

“Y-yeah.” Your eyes widened at the sudden question and you felt embarrassed for stuttering even though he didn’t seem to care considering he was nodding and getting out of the truck. “Not a problem.” You mumbled to yourself before following him.

He was disappearing into the tree line and you would have been more confused if you didn’t see the faintest evidence of an old trail that had clearly been overgrown.

Heeseung was confident in his steps and every turn he took seemed like it was practiced so you quickly gathered that he knew exactly where he was and you wondered when he would have come out here enough to be this knowledgeable about it.

You were together pretty much all the time as kids and as far as you knew he hadn’t gone anywhere since coming back to town so his mystery was just growing even more to you.

You’d been walking for about twenty minutes with just the sounds of snapping sticks and the wind rustling the trees before it was opening up to reveal a small waterfall and a pond amongst the trees.

The bank was completely made up of rocks and fallen tree logs, something completely different than the sandy shores you were used to. You could tell right away this wasn’t a place for swimming but you just kept following him as he hopped onto the large boulders before eventually sitting on one.

You watched the side of his face as you waited for him to explain and he just watched the view with a slightly pained expression.

“Can you… can you not look at me.” His first words hit you hard and you flinched at the rough tone he’d taken on again. “Please it just will make this easier.”

Although confused, you nodded and opted for instead staring at the way your feet were dangling over the open water. Your thighs were burning from the rough edge of the boulder and the height you were sat at was slightly intimidating but you willed yourself to not look at him no matter how much you wanted to.

“I came here the day that I left. Stole the truck and ran out of the house even though my mom was practically tripping over herself in the driveway trying to get me to stop. I think she thought if I went I wouldn’t come back.” He took a break for you to process what he was telling you and the last sentence hit you hard.

You knew he loved his mom and hearing about her fear and what actually went down the day they moved away was almost too much and you considered asking him to stop talking.

Instead you clenched your hand onto the cold boulders surface and waited for him to keep going.

“It was a world of things that don’t matter anymore, never fucking matter but I need you to understand how much I regret it.” You could feel him looking at you now.

“I should have said goodbye to you and I should’ve answered your letters but I knew I’d come back the second I heard a single word from you and I couldn’t leave her alone. She needed me and I figured you’d be okay with the others. You’d hate me but you’d be okay.”

His voice was getting shakier and you couldn’t resist looking at him anymore although he didn’t look upset that you had done so, his hand stretching the distance between you so he could grip your hand that was practically clawing at the stone.

You squeezed his warm hand tight in yours as you sniffled and the tears built up quickly when you saw how nervous he looked.

“And I’m so fucking sorry for what I did to you at Sunghoon’s.” He grit his teeth as he said it like it pained him to remember and your stomach turned uncomfortably, almost feeling sick at the memory of how shut off he had been now. Especially comparing it to the way he was looking at you now. “I was angry at myself and took it out on you. It was fucking disgusting.”

A sob hit you at that and you don’t know if him scooting closer made you feel better or worse but you leaned into him anyways and felt your heart calm at the way he wrapped his arms around you.

“Y/n I don’t regret it okay? Just the way that it happened but you know… I-I hope you know that I’ve always-“ He sighed and stopped talking like he couldn’t find the words and you wiped your face quickly.

You leaned away from him just enough to get a good look at his face and he looked panicked like he didn’t know how you were going to respond.

“You’re not high right now right?”

His face fell in hurt at your question before it was turning into understanding and guilty, the shake of his head not doing nearly enough to lessen your worries which he quickly seemed to notice because he was leaning closer and making sure you could see him when he spoke.

“I’m not high I promise you. I haven’t been since that night on the beach.” He sounded genuine and you would have believed him before but you didn’t know him now and he easily could’ve been lying to you. “How can I help you know that?”

The desperation in his question and expression made him look so much younger and another sob hit you as you started to see him for who he was.

Not some corpse like imposter who had moved back to town and taken the identity of your old friend and lover but just a lost and confused Heeseung who had clearly gone through something you didn’t understand yet.

So when you kissed him it wasn’t for any other reason this time, it wasn’t because you just wanted to feel that he was actually there or because you thought there was no other way to be close to him again but it was because you wanted him to know that you believed him and you were patient.

You’d been patient and you’d continue to be because Sunghoon had been right when he said you always loved Heeseung and you’d constantly choose him.

Something in you told you that this time he’d do his best to choose you too, his hands holding your face so gently and his thumbs swiping soothingly over your cheeks to rid you of the constant stream of tears despite his own wetting his face too.

You weren’t even really sure what you were crying for.

If it was for the pain he’d put you through or the pain he was dealing with himself. Maybe it was because of the lost time and the years you could’ve spent together or the relief at not having to experience his absence again, something beautiful in the way you were holding each other and sharing the grief of what could have been.

You could only hope that what will be would be worth every tear in the end.

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen smut #enhypen au #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #heeseung angst #heeseung au #heeseung smut #heeseung imagine #heeseung x reader #heeseung fic #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung

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gremlingottoosilly · 6 months

Text

Stranger danger (slasher!Konig x fem!Reader)

You never wanted to go to this stupid party. Turns out, you were right all along - it doesn't save you from this weird guy in a Ghostface mask though. Warnings and tags: Non-con, size difference, knives, slasher-y, slight degradation, obsessive Konig, yandere Konig, praise kink Word count: 3069 AO3

You told your friends you didn’t want to go to this stupid party. No one cared. You asked them for at least a funny group costume, and everyone agreed – only to bail at the fucking party, so you were the only one who went as a freaking ant from that one extremely sad meme. With a little handkerchief on a stick and everything. No one got it.

You told your friends that you wouldn’t want to get drunk unless they would be with you because, honestly, college parties are the worst, and you don’t want anyone to get roofied. They left you by the snack table, making you eat smarties and occasional chips like salt counts don’t exist.

You were munching on a particularly tough pretzel – the packaging was saying something in German, as exotic as this college could fucking get without being too scared of spices – when The Guy dropped himself on the couch next to you.

Yes, The Guy – because you were in no right to call him just a guy, a dude, a lil’ bro, or anything like that. He was way over 6 feet, probably creeping on being the new form of a fancy light post, and built like a bear that was eating nothing but protein and particularly tasty American tourists. Dressed in all black, very original, he must love spending time in various shops and choosing between 50 shadows of the same dark attire.

At this point, you were not surprised that he was wearing a Ghostface mask. At this point, you lost all of your capabilities to be surprised – only slightly intrigued, perhaps, and a little bit aroused when he manspreaded his legs and pushed his knee right against your leg, not stopping until he crammed you to the corner of a sofa. How the one man could take so much space, you had no idea. What he was eating to grow up this big – also.

He looked like at least three frat boys from a sports team crammed together in one body. Tight muscles that could be seen even through the bagginess of his clothes – you aren’t sure if you could survive looking at his pecks without wanting to give up all of your life earnings for a gym membership.

— Hey.

A master of flirting, you just needed someone to talk to.

The Guy didn’t respond.

You frowned – a typical college boy would already try to flirt with you, probably getting you drunk to get an easy lay for the next 10 seconds of pure physical exercise. If he wasn’t interested in a conversation, he probably shouldn’t have sat in your corner – unless he wanted to steal snacks, of course. Something in his figure told you that he would be a freaking hurricane in the snack aisle.

He smells like metal – weird, you think. Not like you wanted to smell him, of course not. You were just crammed in a really tight place against his shoulders, your nose forced to press into his shirt and inhale the deep scent of some generic perfume, a surprising hint at laundry detergent and cleaning supplies – and, of course, said metal.

You expected sweat and cheap booze – but this means it smells like a butcher and a cleaning lady at the same time.

To closer observation, he looked…nervous, almost. Hands fidgeting with a fake knife that he probably snatched from some Halloween supply shop – it’s surprisingly heavy looking, without that cheap shine that a lot of Ghostface costume knives have, and you feel almost endeared by the way he fidgets and spins the knife in his hands. Still, somehow, he looked anxious.

— Are you alright?

He continues to sit here silently. You fight the savior instinct inside of you, reminding yourself that you do not need to nurse and mother a grown-up college boy who is probably too high to talk right now or simply dozed off in his mask with no one to notice this – but still, something in his hunched posture made you feel…soft. Tender. This, or you’re too drunk to not be a doting mommy, since all of your friends ditched you and your sad ant cosplay to be slutty fish sticks.

— Ja, I’m fine.

German accent. This is a surprise for a college boy at this party. Guys who are usually visiting those places can barely speak English, so knowing German with that perfect weird accent of his makes you feel…things. Never too much for accents, you still sat a bit closer, your face pressed against his shoulder. Cheek smashed on his skin – he doesn’t say anything about extreme physical contact. You’re surprised at your own confidence.

— From which program are you?

— What?

— Like…which school. What do you study?

He paused. Flicks the knife in his hands – from this angle, it looks way too sharp for a simple plastic knife. Guy must be a crazy cosplayer who spends hours on trying to make foam and metallic paint look this realistic – you admire this level of nerdiness a little bit. With this skill, he could be more than a generic Ghostface.

He shrugs, leaving you without an answer. Alright, not much of a talker. Probably from computing, STEM boys always act like contact with females would make them pregnant.

— Are you enjoying the party?

— Ja.

— You came alone?

— Ja.

— What do you…alright, just tell me if I’m annoying. I’ll stop bothering you.

He chuckles – your cheeks are immediately heated when he presses his hand closer to your thigh. The actions is suggestive, and you don’t quite…don’t quite mind it. You always had a thing for masks, and his body resembles the one of a greek statue – you wouldn’t want to pass on this opportunity. Definitely not for sex, not the type to hook up with a random boy on Halloween, but maybe a sloppy makeout and some number exchange would take place.

König had different plans.

Honestly, you made it too fucking easy for him. Good girl, polite girl, nice girl who actually fucking asked him if he was alright because his hands were shaking from the adrenaline he got from killing some weird asshole trying to get a drunk girl in his bed. He was shaking because he knew he’d get away with it – there were so many drugs on the venue, police wouldn’t even want to open this rathole and try to search for a killer in that random ass city he got on a break after the latest contract.

You made it too easy – your weird costume, your sad face, and your attempts at caring for him actually made his blood boil from excitement, and his nerves(and his dick, throbbing in that baggy black pants) stir. You tucked in the corner, all by yourself, surrounded by loud noises and intoxicated people who couldn’t give less shit about your safety. He can slit your throat, and everyone would think it’s a costume.

He can…and he can also take a little treat for having such a good last mission. Might even take you with him if you’d promise to be a good girl and don’t fight him in the trunk of his car.

You can’t even scream when he pushes his hands on your throat, squeezing. You wanted to, he knew by the look in your eyes that there was a fire inside of you – so he extinguished it as fast as he possibly could, laughing at your pathetic attempts at fighting him off. Just like your friends, you are weirdly easy for him to handle. Just a bunch of drunk college mates, nothing compared to his experience. He’d say that he stood too low, so crazy on his leave, that he decided to search for the easiest prey imaginable, but sometimes you need to choose yourself and find some easy hobbies that you can partake in without taking too much from your psychological sources.

Sometimes, you just need to kill a bunch of drugged students and take home one of them – for mental health reasons. Konis is sure that KorTac would allow him to take you to the base if he’d prove that you are his psychological support pet. Maybe he could even share you with some of his officers as a treat. You’d be so sweet for Krueger, he can tell just from that terrified look on your face when he pushes his hands further, blocking your windpipe.

König is strong – stronger than anyone you know, probably. He knows how to use this strength for the better and for worse, and he isn’t afraid of pushing a bit too far, not enough to break you, but just freaking perfect to make you dazed and turn your brain into mush. So sweet for him, such tasty little noises and scratches of your nails on his gloved hands. He must leave some marks on you later since you’re so sweet to him now.

— Not so talkative now, Schatzi?

You squirm, trying to punch him right in his dick, and he only moans when your knees are jerking in a poor attempt at kicking his balls. If anything, it feels like a really nice massage. So fucking obedient for him, he can’t even imagine how cute you’ll look chained to his bed, forced to play his little girlfriend while he is searching for your friends to finish them off.

Taking off your clothes is ridiculously easy. Even while you decided not to wear a slutty costume for Halloween, the cheap fabric isn’t a good barrier between him and his desire to freaking crush you – he exposes your breasts, covering them with one of his hands right about now, keeping his other hand firmly seated on your throat. You whimper and cry as he plays with your soft buds, making them harden, undoubtedly creating a pool in your shorts. God, you’re beautiful like this.

He actually grieves wearing a mask that can’t be moved this easily – he’d love to munch on your breasts, to try your nipples with his tongue, and roll his teeth over your soft mounds. He can’t, not right now, at least – you’re not nearly broken enough not to tell the police about his face, and he doesn’t want you to close your eyes. Need to make sure you’ll see every inch of his dick.

His rough gloves are creating a weird but pleasurable pressure on your buds – you whine and sob as he pushes his hands to stimulate you more, not caring that you don’t want it. Tugging and teasing with his fingertips, you actually feel like you’re going crazy just from the way he is playing with your breasts. Pushing from side to side, touching soft flesh, not even allowing you to moan as every time you try to open your mouth, he grips your throat tighter.

When he is finally done playing with your boobs, you can almost feel bruises forming from his rough touches. You whine when he goes to rip your shorts – his touches feel like lava spreading between your legs, no matter how much you wanted him to stop, your tongue never came to actually beg him for it.

To his delight, you are soaking.

Your pretty pussy on full display for him – twitching and squeezing for nothing, poor thing, he might as well just push the finger already, stretching you out just enough to let you feel the burn without breaking you. König would love to just push his dick inside without all of these dancing around nothing, but he is aware of his size – and very, very aware of yours. Little things might not be as small as he likes to think you are, but you’re freaking tiny compared to him. Weak and fragile, you have no fucking excuse to just parade yourself like men around you aren’t a bunch of wolves that would love to rip you apart and fuck what remains.

You can barely breathe while he pushes his fingers inside, just one digit is enough to make you squirm under him. You’re wet, pussy damp from all of the juices – lack of oxygen makes you dumber, pliable, make you his best little thing in the world. A girl like you has no business going to parties and whoring yourself to a bunch of early alcoholics – you should stay at home, his home, cooking him dinner and warming his dick. Cleaning his knife after he’d gut some dumb fuck, making sure to get your tongue into all the sharp edges.

Scheisse, just the thought makes him harder than ever. Perhaps he needs to stop playing the nice guy and finally give you the pounding you deserve.

Tired of just holding his hand on your throat, he forces the blade of his knife to take its place. Not nearly enough to cut your skin, but a constant reminder – if you’re a bad girl and would try to escape, he might slit your fucking throat as easily as butter. If you’re a good girl, unlike your friends, he might just take you with him. What a beautiful option.

One finger turns to two very quickly – and, since he doesn’t stop you from moaning and talking, you finally gain your voice back. Poor girl, too dumb to understand that all of your little threats and cries and everything is just a fucking delight to his ears. Might as well record it for his alarm clock.

— Get…get off me!

Such a strong words for such a weak girl. He’d spank you right away, but his fingers are too busy playing with your folds, smearing your juices all over your clit and trembling pussy. You’re dripping like a slut, and it busts his ego – a fancy college girl like you, so wet and needy for a nasty criminal. He knows how to treat you right and has all the resources for it – but somehow, it feels like you’d enjoy being treated like his doll.

He can be sweet after he has fucked you raw.

— Please, you can’t…I won’t tell anyone if you just stop, I promise!

— Shatzi, why do you think I’d let you go after this?

— I…I will scream.

— Ja, you can scream. Do this for me, please.

He laughs as he plunges in, giving you sweet seconds to become accustomed to the feeling of his dick impaling you. Bulging in the outline of your soft tummy, another boost to his ego – just to think, he was so anxious about crashing this party, knowing it would be filled with prissy students who all get to live the life he dreamed of, but you made it all worth it. You’re sweet and fiery, and you grip him like a glove. No matter how wet you were and how much pre-cum he had leaked, you’re still tight for him. Too tight.

You scream when he plunges it, and you continue to scream when he pushes deeper, further, when he moves back a little bit, only to push forward again. His hand finds your clit, never stopping until you’re squirming and crying full-on under him. Such a shame he can’t kiss you, not with this stupid mask – he can only play with your slit and push a knife against your throat over and over again, never allowing the adrenaline in your system to run dry.

Over and over, pushing you further and further until he plunged inside fully – you’re so puffy around him, your pussy lips swollen and spread for him, your clit is throbbing from the pleasure he gives you. Getting you off like that is easy for him – but he has to make sure he isn’t taking it too far, not with how warm and tight you are. He hates being in a position of weakness, but you’re just so perfect, he can’t help but push further and further until you are a sobbing mess and he is on the edge of orgasm.

He forces himself to be slower, his pushes are more and more deliberate – he doesn’t want to cum so fast, even though the mix of your sobs and his adrenaline high from the killing almost makes it impossible. He doesn’t want to stop like this, so fucking easy, but you’re so welcoming and cute and…

— Please, please, don’t…don’t come inside, I’m not on the pill, I’m…

God, you’re so sweet for him. Did the devil finally give him his gift for Halloween?

He laughs as you sob softly, pushes you more and more, and your poor pussy is getting stretched far beyond its limits. He steals this orgasm from your decency, robs you of any accountability – you just lay here, under him, receiving his dick like a good girl you are. Couldn’t have it any other way, just wanted to have you pinned under his body forever.

Your orgasm is crushing, painful in a way – you're all too sensitive for a dick this large to impale you, you sob, and you cry, begging for him to stop before he’d cum inside. Your biggest nightmare is alive when he pushes the knife away from your throat, squeezing it again just so he can cum in the tightness of your hole.

He stays like this, connected to your deepest parts, for a good few minutes, dumb out after the orgasm. You try to squirm from under him, but he only laughs, slowly pushing away from your body. Just one load is enough to make your pussy all messy and even more wet. You’re so dirty for him, it’s actually impossible not to love you even more when you’re like this, dumb and sensitive and so, so fucking cute.

His cum drips from your overflown pussy, pearly white liquid stuffs you ever so perfectly, König laughs, putting his clothes back together and getting one last look at your ruined hole, clenching around nothing. You can’t even talk at this point, poor thing – just how can he leave you here to be found by your perverted friends who would only take advantage of you?

It’s only natural that he sneaks your limp body through the window, holding you like a beloved possession while he is getting in his car.

It’s only natural that you fall asleep in his arms, your pussy stuffed so full, he just knows that he’ll add to the mess once he’d get rid of the body of a dumb college guy he killed moments ago.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #cod x you #yandere cod #call of duty #slashers #slasher

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astroboots · 7 months

Note

Omg please continue with the Miguel fang prompt!!! It’s too cruel to stop there!!!!!

HIDE AND SEEK

Summary: Miguel and you plays hide and seek.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Content: Hunter predator kink (I think that's what we're calling it?) anyway explicit. Miguel is a bit rough.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

It's all too easy to get lost in the crowd in a city as crowded as New York. You slip in among a throng of tourist standing around like a flock of pecking hens, their faces dipped down at their phones, huddled over google maps as they try to figure out how to get to Broadway as if it's not within goddamn walking distance, right down the street.

In a nervous habit, you fiddle with the watch on your wrist. Your eyes flick over the bright light that tells you it's 11:28pm.

Which means, there's still 32 minutes left.

God this is the slowest hour you've ever lived through in your life.

You squeeze yourself in the back, behind a woman with a large hat and larger sunglasses, even though it's evening and the sky is near black. The only things left illuminating the sky now is glaring shop signs, aggressive LED lights, and the mega-spectacular ads display that is brighter than the goddamn sun.

Peering over the madness of the crowd, you try to spot the familiar sight of his all too recognizable build looming over everyone else.

But there's nothing.

He's not here. You let out a long held in breath, your chest sagging with relief. Of course he wouldn't be here.

Times Square has over 300,000 visitors passing through every day. 300,000 sweaty, exhausted individuals drenched in perfume and deodorant that would make it impossible to pick up your scent. Thousands of people speaking all at once, over the angry noise of honking traffic that would make it impossible, even for him, to pick up the sound of your distinct footfall.

No, He won't be able to catch you here. That's why you came here after all.

You glance down at your watch again. 11:31.

Shit! How has only three minutes gone by?

Shaking your head, you look up at the sea of people.

You'd better get moving. Even in a crowd, if you stay still for too long, it won't be safe.

Walking briskly down the wide street, it's a struggle to squeeze through the ever moving crowd as the glaring lights change from makeup ads to theater marquees. You're peering over your shoulder with every three steps you take, constantly expecting the familiar sight of his messy curls to peek out a foot above the crowd.

He's so damn tall there's no fucking way you'll miss him if he's found you. You'll get plenty of advance warning, you reassure yourself as you continue to move forward.

Your eyes settle over your watch again.

11:46. Fuck you sideways.

You know you shouldn't keep checking it every two seconds like this, because all it serves to do, is to ratchet up your blood pressure so high you're going to need to start taking medication for it.

How is time moving so slow. You shake your head in exasperation, and for a fraction of a second you swear you see it.

A flash of unmissable dark navy glowing with red.

You freeze. Your back feels like ice, cold damp sweat breaking out along your spine. You snap your eyes back but there's nothing there now. Nothing but an anonymous crowd.

What the-- How could he have just disappeared into thin air?

He's 6 feet and fucking 9 inches. Taller than your refrigerator back in your tiny studio apartment. The top of his head beats out your fucking Christmas tree. If he was here, he'd be impossible to miss. You don't fucking miss a giraffe when you visit the Brooklyn Zoo, so why are you having such a fucking hard time spotting him? How the fuck does he move so inconspicuously?

Was it just your imagination?

You glance at your watch: 11:46. Gotta be kidding. Is time standing still now? Has it just decided to stop moving altogether?

You force yourself to step forward and ignore how your knees seems to cave at your own weight as you sink into the pavement with every step.

In the corner of your eyes you spot him. Clearly this time. Real. Not a figment of your imagination. He's only a few steps away from you. The familiar pair of glowing scarlet eyes fixed on you.

Oh fuck, shit. Shit! Your heart races at the sight, beating so hard you think you feel it in your lungs. You're already sprinting in the opposite direction without thought and the only thing guiding you is the pure impulse to escape.

You push through the crowd, sprinting forward without taking in your surroundings. All you care about is to get away as your gaze is fixed on your watch.

11:52. Eight more minutes. You just need to stay away for eight more minutes.

You keep running as the crowd seems to thin, and the colorful lights and noise of traffic fades away. Then you finally stop, catching your breath to look up at your surroundings.

It's empty and void of people. A large empty van is blocking the narrow alley from view of the main street, and there's an unlocked gate that you've come through.

On the other side from where you've come from there's a tall bricked up wall as far as the eye can see-- a dead end.

How the fuck did you manage to find the only deserted dead end alleyway in central New York?

Shit you need to get out of here, you won't be able to run away if you're trapped here.

You glance one more time at your watch.

11:57. Three minutes. 180 seconds. It's all you need and then you'll win.

You turn your heel back towards the gate. But it's too late.

The dim light of the alley is eaten up by a large and imposing shadow.

He's already here.

The familiar navy blue and the menacing red sprawled across his chest fills your vision, blocking your only path to escape. All you see is red eyes glowing so bright it lights up the dark alley with it.

"Time's up," he says, mouth curled into a mocking smile so wide that you can see his fangs peek out from his upper lip.

That's when you realize you are well and fully trapped like the helpless prey you are in his spider's web. You're right where he wants you.

God you're so damn stupid. You were safe in the crowd. But one sight of him had you spooked and running into the only alley to be found in all of New York.

Shit.

He'd planned this all along. The bastard's must've been the one who opened the gate. And you had ran in here like some scared witless rabbit straight into his trap.

You could try to escape him. Some vain, silly leftover pride in you, is adamant that you still have at least two whole minutes to get away.

He steps closer, and you can't help but instinctively step back as he does.

You know it's a game. Know that he would never hurt you, but that hungry and predatory red glow in his eyes has fear spiking along your spine all the same.

"Miguel, wai--"

The rest of your futile plea dies in your throat. His broad palm covers your mouth and jaw, and even your startled squeak is muffled into silence as he presses you up against the wall.

You whimper into his hand, but he doesn't relent. Doesn't ease up, even as he leans down and hushes you. Despite the soothing tone he uses with you, it isn't comforting at all. It drips with condescension as he press his lips to your bare throat.

"I'm gonna take my prize now, nena," he murmurs into your skin and because your brain is broken, with no sense for survival instincts, every part of you tingles at the amused threat in his voice.

"You promised remembered?" he reminds you.

And of course you do. It's hard not to, when the bastard's got you pinned against a brick wall in an abandoned alley like something out of a horror movie.

Fuck. He's taken this way too seriously. You don't know why you had suggested the world's dumbest hide and seek with this competitive and unreasonable man.

He presses you into the hard brick behind you, like there's anywhere left for you to go. And you can feel it. The proof of his excitement pressing up against your stomach, pinning you against the wall. He's hard.

Any residual resentment at your loss gives way for excitement when you feel his cock twitch and jerk against you.

The edge of his teeth rests on your bare shoulder as goosebumps breaks across your skin, and you feel dizzy. Anticipation swirls in your stomach with an intoxicating warmth.

You can't fucking breathe.

His hand snakes up your dress, wedging your panties to the side, until you can hear the fabric rip and tear. Shit, you're going to kill him for that.

The thick head of his cock presses in and stretches you open, as he forces his way inside of you, in time with his sharp and whetted fangs sinking into your flesh. Electricity pings across your nerves, sweet and euphoric and you feel drunk with it.

He's filling you, inch by hard and relentless inch, until you swear you can feel him lodged in your stomach. You feel so fucking full. Full of Miguel until nothing else fits anymore, but he doesn't stop.

His cock nudges along an impossibly deep spot inside you that has you losing orientation and makes the space around you spin, and he's still not fully inside.

White blinding pleasure streaks through your every nerve and crowds your vision, as he sinks you down further on him, until your vision goes blank. He's so fucking big. Always is no matter how many times you take him like this.

Pleasure pool with heat in your stomach as he holds you in place, impaled on the thickness of him.

Your limbs go boneless, unable to hold up your own weight, and for a moment you're not sure if that's the venom released to your bloodstream or just the effect he has on you. You only remain upright because he's propping you up with his body.

His mouth skims along your throat, dragging his teeth up until his fangs tease along the shell of your ear, with the threat of sharpness. The edge of them barely graze your skin, completely unlike the feral impatience he'd sunk into you with, as he whispers into your ear.

"Found you, nena."

Dedication and credits: This piece is dedicated to @foxilayde for her utterly deranged (and amazing) post that had me SALIVATING. Thank you for putting this brainworm into my head. I am shooketh.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #oscar isaac #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse

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lustspren · 9 months

Text

Flashing Lights ft Momo, Mina

length: 13.9k words✦

Momo, Mina & Male Reader.

genres: threesome, anal, voyeur, hard sex, double blowjob, creampie, striptease, oral sex, facefuck, bi, double footjob, thighjob, daddy kink, titjob, dirty talk ✧

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Budapest was one of the most amazing and historically rich cities you have ever visited on your vacation, but the tourist spots had run out, and with that the possible activities were reduced to a very few, among them, the well-known nightlife of Budapest. the Hungarian capital.

You went from disco to disco, from pub to pub, and despite the fact that a couple of these places had resulted in a very gratifying experience for you, you were looking for something more, something that marked a before and after on that vacation trip. You were completely alone in the city, so you didn't really have a guide or someone to show you in detail all the possible places you could go, much less the ones that were most hidden from the public eye.

You had been your own tour guide for the entire week you were there, and you were determined to continue to be so even if it cost you to get into some dangerous place controlled by some random organized crime gang. That was how you embarked on a tedious search to find that place you wanted to find so much.

In order to do this, you had to get quite far from the city center. You had rented a car from the first day you arrived, so it was not difficult for you to move freely through those unknown yet charming streets. You drove for hours on a clear and silent Sunday night, turning corners and stopping at various alleyways to no avail.

Feeling defeated and with no desire to continue searching, you were already preparing to return to your hotel. Grim-faced and slumped-shouldered, you U-turned a corner, that's when you saw it at the end of a blind street, a glitzy, elegant establishment that immediately caught your eye. It wasn't too big, and it didn't seem to be too crowded either, judging by the number of cars that were parked on the curb.

From a distance you couldn't make out what was on the few but striking signs that adorned the front of the place, it was when you parked behind one of the nearby cars that you realized (with your poor eyesight) that the signs were neither written nor in Hungarian or English, but in Japanese. Now, that was a peculiar place. Your brain told you that the most logical thing was to turn around and go back where you came from, but your heart screamed that you risked discovering what was behind all of that, besides, in the worst case it was as easy as getting out of there and going back to your hotel... right?

You were completely unaware of what the hell it said in the signs, and you were lazy to take out your phone just to use Google Lens, you could perfectly well be getting into a human slaughterhouse and you weren't going to have a fucking idea until you had an electric saw on your neck. Even thinking about all that, you got out of your car confident and determined, heading to the mysterious establishment.

The windows were tinted jet black, and the door didn't give much information about what you were going to find inside, either, the only thing you knew was that the owners of the place had to be quite wealthy, since the facade was made of obviously expensive materials, dark varnished wood, you didn't know the type, and black marble with small golden veins that reminded of gold nuggets.

You didn't know if it was open or closed, in fact, you knocked a couple of times without getting a response from inside, but the signs were perfectly lit and you were listening to music inside, so you decided to stop by. Bad mistake, at first.

As soon as you entered, you entered a wide corridor with shiny marble walls, adorned on each side by traditional Japanese lamps that illuminated the space in purple, under your feet a black carpet stretched that led to the end of the corridor, which you noticed that there were stairs that led to a floor below.

As you walked down the hall to take the stairs the sound of the music got louder and louder, and the reverberation of the place made you realize how big it was and how deceptive it was from the outside. You went down one step at a time, somewhat fearful of what you would find when you got to the floor below, but when you did you couldn't be anything but speechless.

The place reminded you of a nightclub, but it certainly wasn't, it also reminded you of a kind of private club, with a large bar, pool tables, and darts, but nothing further from what it really was. There were Asian women in provocative outfits of all kinds, from super-tight latex bodies to more revealing outfits like sexy lingerie or straight underwear that left little to the imagination. Some were waitresses, others were in charge of the bar serving drinks, and others were in charge of giving dances and acting as escorts for visibly wealthy individuals.

Astonished as well as confused, you took a few steps forward without anyone noticing your presence yet. Not knowing quite what to do, you put your hands in your pockets to walk towards the bar and ask for something to drink, but a hand on your shoulder stopped you, which pulled you and made you turn around. You came face to face with a stocky Japanese gorilla with a very unfriendly face, dressed in a classy suit and with a prominent beard.

"What the hell are you doing here kid?! Huh?!" he asked in heavily accented English, grabbing your sweater with both hands. The music was pretty loud, but the man's screams still stunned you.

"Uhm… the door was open," you said innocently, knowing you could get your ass kicked for your insolence.

"Out there it says: 'ENTRY WITH PRIOR RESERVATION ONLY'!!" he shook you hard, and you began to realize that you had entered the wrong place, full of the wrong people, "and you look so fucking broke to pay for being here."

"Oh, so that's what the signs said, dammit," you sighed, "so why the hell don't you have a bouncer at the entrance?" you asked, not wanting to offend or cause a conflict, but the Japanese man didn't take it well, his eyes filled with fury, and he raised his fist to punch you, but was interrupted by a female voice.

"Takashi-kun! Tomeru!!" the woman behind you exclaimed, speaking in Japanese. The man immediately released you, bowing to the person you couldn't see.

"Momo-sama! Hontouni sumimasen!" you were smart enough to at least know that he was apologizing. You stepped aside, so you could finally see the woman. You were completely stunned by such beauty.

The woman was dressed in a sleeveless black jumpsuit, high heels and long gloves of the same color. Her wolf cut and her slightly damp hair fit perfectly with her beautiful face, sharp features and deadly gaze. Her bare shoulders were unbelievably sexy, and you didn't need to see much to realize how big her chest was.

"Ima sugu koko kara deteike!" she exclaimed again, standing next to you without even seeing you yet.

"Hai, okusama!" the man replied with his head still down, turning to walk away. You just saw everything, without understanding a damn what they were saying.

"Please excuse him, he takes her job too seriously," she said now in perfect English, turning to look at you.

"No problem," you said, smoothing your hoodie, "but my question was genuine, why don't you have anyone at the door?"

"Because no one ever got here by chance, and the people who do never get in," she crossed her arms, staring at you. You started to get nervous, "now tell me, what are you doing here?"

"I'm a tourist here in Budapest," you started, glancing at her in short intervals, "I've visited every possible tourist and night spot, and since I still have a few days left here, I went looking for something new," Momo laughed.

"Yeah, you did have to search quite a bit to get here then," she said with a smirk, looking you up and down, "I don't know if you're very brave or very stupid, if I hadn't been here Takashi would have given you the beating of your life."

"I was just curious, and I don't know fucking Japanese to figure out what it said outside."

"You do know that Google Lens exists, right?" She asked that just to reconfirm your stupidity, she didn't give you time to reply, "You know what? Normally I'd kick you out of here nicely, but you caught me in a good mood today, and you're pretty cute..." She took a discreet step towards ahead, closing the distance between you but not too much, "where are you from?"

"I'm from the UK, beautiful," you said, trying somehow to flirt with her. She nodded slowly, still looking into your eyes.

"Do you know how many men I've slapped for trying to flirt with me while I was out of their reach?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and pressing her tongue against the inside of her lips.

"I don't know, will I be one of those men?" You looked at her in greater detail, her sexy bare neck and shoulders mesmerizing you.

"Not for now..." she noticed how you looked at her since you weren't being discreet at all, "just don't be smart with me."

"I'm a good boy, don't worry," you smiled.

"Very well, good boy, why don't we go to my office?" your inner self screamed with joy at that moment, you went looking for copper and found gold.

"To your office?"

"I'm the founder of this place, Hirai Momo, my pleasure," she held out her hand, and you shook it in complete bewilderment, now that was a twist, "follow me."

You followed the Japanese woman from behind, taking the opportunity to take a better look at your surroundings. You could perfectly tell how successful and famous that place was among the people of power, wherever you looked you would find some luxurious object or some detail that made you realize the amount of money that flowed between pockets. The men passed for every possible race, not just Asian, but every one of them seemed to have enough money to buy a fancy house on a quiet weekend, you could tell by the quality of their suits, how shiny their watches were, or the type of drinks that were on the tables in front of them.

Momo took some stairs that led to an upper floor, where you entered a long corridor where the red lights were dim but bright enough for you to see the sway of her sexy hips as you walked behind her.

"This is all built underground?" you asked, as she stopped in front of a door.

"Yeah, it saves us a lot of potential inconvenience to the neighbors," Momo replied with her hand on the knob, "but it was fucking expensive."

She opened the door, and you entered a spacious room that was mostly lit by the dim ceiling lights and the light emanating from the massive aquarium Momo had embedded in the wall to the right. The first thing to enter were two long light gray sofas with a marble table in the middle, and in the background on the left, two individual sofas in front of the woman's long desk, with nothing more than a Mac and few decorations on. Floating above the desk, a rectangular ceiling lamp. And in the corners of the room, 4 plants of the same type. Finally, a big detail that caught your attention was the pole that was installed to the right of the desk, but you decided not to comment on it.

"Wow, you're doing well, aren't you?" you asked, looking at the aquarium to your right.

"Contacts are everything, you start with a small grain of sand and end up with the sahara desert right in front of your nose," Momo went down two steps and passed between the coffee table and the sofa, "would you like something to drink?"

"What do you offer, Miss Hirai?" you asked, watching her walk towards a pantry to the right of her desk. You walked down the same steps, standing there with your hands behind your back.

"Whatever you want, sweetness," she turned to look at you with a peek over her shoulder and then to the pantry, "Gin, Whiskey, Vodka, Red Wine, Rum, Cognac..."

"A red wine is perfect and it's the fastest to serve for you," you looked around, looking again at the pole and then at Momo, wondering what possible use she had for it, but the answer seemed more than obvious.

"How thoughtful," she said amused, "Le Lucere or Pinot Noir?"

"I'd love to know about wine, so I'll leave it up to you," you laughed.

"Le Lucere will be," she agreed, pulling out the sleek black bottle and two glasses for red wine, "my god, sit down, you make me nervous standing there," she said as she walked towards you.

"Sorry, I never do anything in someone else's place without permission," you sat down on the sofa to the left, and Momo immediately sat next to you, much closer than you expected.

"Same there," Momo said, placing the bottle and glasses in front of you, then opening a small bowl that was on the table and taking out a two-stroke corkscrew, "my mother always said that someone else's place was sacred and should be respected as such," she began to pull the cork out of the bottle, and you couldn't help but observe how attractive she looked.

"Wise woman, definitely."

"Yes she is," she nodded, concentrating on applying force to remove the cork, "I wonder how she would react if she found out that I get all my money from an adult club and not a wheat processing plant."

"That's a big difference, what if she finds out?" wanting to take a shot, you raised your left arm and brought it up to rest on the back of the sofa, just behind Momo's back. She didn't seem to notice at first.

"She won't, I have enough money to cover up my lies," she replied, finally pulling the cork out and setting it aside, then began pouring the wine into both glasses.

"How humble," you teased, taking the glass of wine as she held it out to you.

"I didn't work so hard to get where I am to be humble, honey, cheers," she raised her glass in a toast, and you clinked it.

"Cheers, beautiful," you both smiled, and took a sip of the wine at the same time.

"Tell me, what are your impressions of Budapest so far?" She leaned back and turned on her side to face you, deliberately pressing into your arm and crossing her legs.

"Wow, I mean... the city is beautiful, especially at night," you said, "the people are very warm and friendly, and I love the architecture."

"Any favorite place?" she asked, staring at you as she took another sip of her wine, you imitated her.

"It will sound very typical, but Buda Castle blew me away. Fisherman's Bastion is also beautiful."

"Oh yeah, this city is full of amazing places," she nodded, "did you come with any family or...?"

"I came alone," you took another small sip of the wine.

"That's weird…" she peered up at you, "usually guys like you bring their girlfriends on these trips."

"I don't have a girlfriend, and if I did I certainly wouldn't be trying to flirt with you," Momo laughed.

"Are you trying to flirt with me?" she asked amused, "wow, I certainly hadn't noticed," you noted the clear sarcasm in her voice, "you'll have to do a better job of making that clear to me."

"And how could I possibly do that? I feel like if I try anything you'll kick my ass out of here."

"Well, you have two advantages: you already took the first step..." she placed her free hand on your arm and rubbed it slowly with her finger, "and you're too cute for me to want to reject your advances."

"Do you want me to get right to the point then?” You took another sip of your wine before setting it down on the coffee table.

"Yes, please, I'd love to know if you're worth it or not," unlike you, she drank the remaining wine in one gulp, then set the glass aside from yours.

"Alright, so let me tell you that you are fucking hot, beautiful and that your back and shoulders have me mesmerized," Momo looked a little surprised as you added things, but in the end she had a small mischievous smile on her face.

"So I'm fucking hot huh?" Momo made a short pause to slowly approach your face and raise part of her thigh over yours. Your sixth sense automatically kicked in, "Anything else to stand out about me, pretty boy?"

"First of all... can I even touch you?" you asked, your gaze alternating between her lips and her eyes.

"I don't know, try it and we'll see what happens," she murmured, shrugging her shoulders for a second, and then finished by bringing the rest of her leg up on top of yours.

"Well..." you placed your hand on her thigh, steadying it and pressing it against you, Momo smirked, "your legs are quite fleshy and toned, do you do gym?"

"Occasionally... keep going," she moved even closer to your face, now almost touching your lips.

"You also have lethal hips..." you said, raising your hand to her hip and then leaving it on her waist, "and some tits that at first glance already look delicious..." there you took your hand to one of her tits, giving it a gentle squeeze over her jumpsuit and causing Momo to bite her lip and stifle a moan.

"Fuck..." Momo responded by taking her hand directly to your cock and giving it a hard squeeze before straddling your lap, "you are such a fearless motherfucker, and I love that," Momo grabbed your face with both hands and suddenly smashed her lips against yours.

Stunned at first by your unexpectedly quick advances, Momo locked her thighs on either side of your hips, and took control of the kiss, directing it into a fiery exchange of saliva that heated the air in a matter of seconds. She let out little muffled moans against your lips, moving her hips very slowly back and forth, pressing into your growing bulge.

Coming out of your little trance, you finally took action on the matter and first took your hands to her waist, raising them slowly and ending up squeezing both of her tits firmly. Momo began to move with a little more intensity, and she separated from your lips to now dive into your neck, distributing little kisses and bites that made you gasp. Your hands now went to her ass, and you were met with a pair of firm, round buttocks which you also began to massage as she ground her hips against your bulge.

Things started to get wilder with each passing second, Momo was extremely turned on and you couldn't be anything but incredulous about your abilities to have managed to seduce a millionaire Japanese hottie. She reached inside your cargo pants and boxers and grabbed your hard cock, massaging it gently as she pecked your jaw. You kept grabbing her ass and every possible corner of her body.

"Can I suck your dick, pretty boy?" she asked in a whisper against your ear. You were about to agree, but then another presence disturbed your private moment.

"Momo-chan! Kore wa watashi no ude no naka de kay-" the girl who came in speaking Japanese to your right let out a small squeal of surprise seeing the two of you on the sofa, "Hontouni sumimasen!" she brought her hands to her eyes to cover them and curtsied.

Once again, you were blown away by another Japanese beauty. The girl was wearing a lilac feather coat, a small pink checked corset top, a short pink skirt, pink semi-transparent high stockings, and pink high heels. Her shiny straight black hair, her creamy perfect thighs, and her sexy abs left you speechless.

"Minari!" Momo squealed with a scowl, "What did I tell you about not knocking before coming in here?" Despite being upset and dissatisfied with the girl's presence, she didn't get off of you.

"I'm so sorry, it won't happen again..." she stood up again, you and she exchanged glances for a few long seconds, and then she saw Momo. Her English was quite excellent, practically like a native. Momo noticed the little exchange of glances between the two of you.

"Now that I think about it... your presence is quite timely, Mina-chan," Momo said, focusing her gaze back on you with a mischievous little smile on her face.

"Ah... that's good to know," Mina nodded, but then she frowned in confusion, "Why?"

"Do you have a client to attend to right now?" Momo asked.

"Īe," she denied, "I just finished a dance for one, I have the rest of the night free."

"You see, darling..." Momo caressed your shoulders with both hands, "Minari is one of my best workers, she's exclusive, expensive, and no one even has the right to touch her no matter how much money they drop..." she leaned forward to give you another short kiss, "Mina-chan, do you like him?" she asked Mina.

"Uh, what do you mean?" Mina intertwined her hands on her belly, staring at you from top to bottom, as much as Momo's body on you allowed her.

"Don't play dumb, Minari, does he seem cute to you? attractive? hot?" Momo pushed, extracting information from Mina.

"Well... he's certainly attractive," Mina agreed, "but no part of his body is visible to me to tell if he's hot or not..." she put a finger to her mouth to nibble on, after throwing that hint at Momo.

"Oh, sure," Momo nodded with a giggle, "well, do I have your permission, pretty boy?" Momo saw you.

"For what?"

"Show her your big hard cock..." she reached between your bodies and squeezed your cock through the cloth, "which by the way is about to go through your pants and mine."

"Only if she agrees," you nodded towards Mina, who was watching everything intently.

"Mina-chan, do you want to see our guest's cock?" as she was asking Mina the question, she grabbed your sweater and pulled it over your head to remove it, leaving you naked from the waist up.

"I..." Mina's cheeks slightly flushed after seeing your naked torso, "yes, I'd love to."

Momo wasted no time in getting down to business. She got off your lap and knelt on the floor between your legs. She brought both of her hands to the hem of your cargo pants, and looking straight into your eyes, she pulled them along with your boxers to your ankles with a single yank. Your erect, throbbing cock was released, and Momo gasped in amazement.

"Woah... Sugoi," Momo murmured with her eyes locked on your cock, she grabbed it with one hand and held it upright for Mina to see, "Well? What do you think?"

"Fuck... that cock is magnificent," Mina gaped, then bit her lip, "Are we going to fuck him?"

"You just do what you always do and then we'll see what happens," Momo wasn't looking at Mina, but at your cock, which she gave a slow lick from base to tip. You gasped.

"Should I start now?" Mina asked.

"No, come with me, I need to change my clothes," Momo said.

"Change your clothes? Will you do the thing?" Mina raised both eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh yeah honey," Momo stood up, "come on, you wait for us here pretty boy," she winked at you, and walked towards a door behind her desk.

Mina walked down the two steps and slowly walked right in front of you, staring at you and your cock with a sensual look before following Momo. You stood there alone, still unable to believe where the hell you got yourself and how incredibly lucky you were.

About 10 minutes passed when Mina came out of it again, now she had a remote control in her hand, which she used to change the light settings in the room. Now these have been changed to a combination of crimson and fuchsia flashing lights. You could still see Mina perfectly, but the lights on her added a more intimate and sexy touch to the atmosphere.

She put the remote down on Momo's desk, and then went to a sound system she had installed on the wall next to the pole. After a few seconds fiddling with things, the music finally began to play quite loud in the room, completely overlapping the music outside. The song played on the stereo was Hotline Bling. And at that moment Momo also left the room where she was, and you gasped.

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Momo came out taking slow, sexy steps with her eyes on you to the beat of the music. For the first time you got a glimpse of her incredibly hot body, short black corset that made her boobs show off, tight shorts that molded perfectly to her wide hips and glossy boots. Her legs were perfect, and the little you saw of her abdomen had you salivating in your mouth.

You didn't know who the hell to set your sights on, because while you were watching Momo get on the pole and start with basic and slow movements, Mina was walking towards you with the look of a predator. She finally stopped in front of you, and you had no choice but to focus all your attention on her.

Mina pushed the table back, making enough space for herself to start dancing to the rhythm of the song. You locked eyes the whole time, and the first thing she did was take her feather coat off of her, she tossed it aside, and she started moving her hips in the sexiest way you've ever seen a woman do. She turned after a few seconds, and focused on moving her butt for you, with her hands on her head to hold up her hair so you could see her neck and shoulders. She then leaned all the way down, giving you a glimpse of her sexy white thong under her skirt and shaking her ass to turn around again.

Turning around, Mina took in your erect, throbbing cock, she licked her lips, and while she made sure to enjoy herself as she danced, she removed the little top that covered her chest to free the pair of her small round tits. She was now only naked from the waist up, and that was enough to make you want to fuck the brains out of her.

Mina grinned from ear to ear, watching your cock twitch and your mouth part. She took a step forward, and leaned forward so that your faces were level, you felt her breath against yours, and unexpectedly she placed a peck on your lips before straddling your lap. Meanwhile, Momo was at the top of the pole, watching you closely, circling it and exposing her body from every possible angle.

"Hey, eyes on me," Mina said, grabbing your chin and making you see only her.

"Fuck, whatever you say cutie," you gasped placing your hands on her waist, feeling your cock press against her pussy over the fabric of her panties.

"Feel very fucking lucky..." Mina began to move on your lap with sensual movements to the rhythm of the music, her modest tits right in front of your face, "The only people who can touch me are myself and Momo-chan."

"Have you guys fucked already, then?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, at that moment the song changed to Stargazing by Travis Scott. You could tell these songs were from Mina's personal playlist for her dances.

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"Occasionally," she admitted, dancing on your cock with her hands on either side of your face, she leaned forward, pressing her bare chest against yours to give you another, longer peck, "but she's always busy just like me."

"That's a shame," you leaned in to kiss her again, and she returned your advances caressing your shoulders and then the sides of your torso, letting small gasps against your lips, "you have a body to die for."

"Enjoy it while you can then, because I think you're the first man to touch me in years," she smiled, and plunged back into your lips in a kiss that you didn't part from for a few seconds.

Your hands went to her tits, squeezing each one and caressing her small nipples with your thumbs. Mina pressed harder against your cock, grinding her hips back and forth as she kept up with the music. You left her tits for a moment, letting them squash against your chest so you could now grab her ass and give each butt cheek a hard squeeze.

"Mother of God, you have an amazing ass..." you murmured against her lips, feeling the soft flesh against your fingers, "that skirt hides it pretty well."

"Want to see that ass bounce on your cock, honey?" she asked with a mischievous smile.

"I don't even know why you ask," you gave her one last kiss before she got off your lap and stood in front of you again.

Mina turned around again, this time to hike her skirt up to her waist and slowly lower her panties just inches from your face, exposing every inch of her ass, along with her butthole and her pretty wet pussy. When she threw the panties on the floor the famous change of beat of the song was present. Mina flexed her legs, put her hands on her knees and began to twerk just above your dick, not touching it at first.

"Spank me pretty boy," she said looking over her shoulder at you as she shook her ass hypnotically, now brushing your cock against her buttocks. You did so, giving her left buttock a strong spank to then take your cock, straighten it up and rub your tip between her folds. Mina stopped twerking, and biting her lip began to lower her ass slowly, impaling herself inch by inch on your hard cock.

"Oh what the f..." you pursed your lips and stifled a long moan, watching as your cock was engulfed in her warm, soft folds, and then her wonderful round ass resting against your pelvis.

"Oh my gosh…" Mina moaned as she felt how your cock caressed every corner of her pussy walls. The song changed at that moment, and the vibes changed completely, now it was Love Is a Bitch by Two Feet. Momo had been the architect of that change, you saw out of the corner of your eye how she returned to the pole, and having a more suitable music for her, she began to undress slowly and sensually to the rhythm of the music. You couldn't help but see her at all times despite the fact that Mina had started to move up and down on your shaft.

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Momo's body was the perfect definition of delicious in every possible way, she started taking off her corset, knowing without even looking at you that you were watching her. The black corset fell to the floor, and your cock throbbed inside Mina's pussy when Momo's two delicious melons were exposed, perfect size and pretty nipples. Her black shorts followed, and then her black lace panties. Momo's perfect and toned abdomen was exposed, as was her round ass, which had almost nothing to envy Mina's. She just kept her boots on, and with that, she got on the pole again to dance to the sensual music.

You focused your eyes back on what was happening on your lap. Mina was clinging to your knees with both hands, her pink skirt wrapped around her waist and her ass bouncing faster and faster against your cock, which completely disappeared between her buttocks with each of her movements.

"Twerk on that cock baby," you growled, biting your bottom lip, spanking her butt cheek then grabbing onto it with your hand. Mina immediately obeyed, and she began to shake her ass and move her hips now slowly, following the rhythm of the music for a few long seconds in which you almost ascended to the spiritual plane.

"Fuck, I didn't know how badly I needed a good cock inside me until now," Mina moaned, then went back to jumping on your cock and completely ignoring the music.

You gave Mina another spank, making her shriek and begin to continually crash into your pelvis. Your hands went to her waist, clinging tightly to it and tempted to pull at her gorgeous, shiny hair, but you didn't want to go too far with a girl who wasn't even planning on fucking you in the first place.

Mina's moans increased with the passing of the seconds, she had her nails dug into your thighs, and her buttocks jiggled like jelly thanks to the constant and aggressive crashes against your pelvis. She looked desperate for more pleasure, because of this, you leaned forward to grab her thighs and put her feet up on the sofa, each heel now on each side of your legs. Her hair (which had a delicious floral scent) fell over your face almost completely obstructing your vision, but you didn't mind that at all.

In this new position, Mina clung to the back of the sofa above your shoulders, and she began to jump on your cock again. This time you had access to her breasts, which you squeezed and massaged before pinching her nipples. Mina could only moan like crazy, frantically jumping on top of you and twisting her back.

She had been doing the hard work for a few minutes already, so you saw fit to take the helm now. You put your hands under Mina's thighs, gripping your fingers to them at the level where her pink stockings ended, made her stop, and you began to pump your hips quickly up and down, hammering Mina's dripping pussy.

Mina fell back, her back now against your chest and her head on your shoulder. She brought her right hand to the side of your face, rubbing her thumb over it and looking into your eyes between moans as you pumped your hips as fast as possible. You wrapped your arms around her slender body, hugging her and giving her all your warmth, then shared a torrid kiss with her.

"Oh shit baby don't you dare to fucking stop!" Mina squealed against your lips, her thighs trembling and her breathing extremely agitated, "I'm so so so sooooo close !!" Her lips met yours again, and you concentrated on pounding her pussy as hard as you could so that in a matter of seconds, Mina exploded with pleasure.

Her cries of pleasure were muffled against your lips, from which you did not want to separate for a second while she writhed on top of you and ground her hips against your cock, which was being squeezed by her throbbing pussy walls. You squeezed her breasts. hard, and she stuck out her tongue to swirl with yours between angelic moans.

"Can I cum inside?" you whispered against her lips as you pumped a little slower, and she bit your lower lip with a small smile.

"Fuck, you're bold aren't you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow with a somewhat tired look.

"Yes, I've been told that before," you gave her another kiss, and she clung to your face with both hands.

"Do it, but you better fill me right to the fucking bottom," she whispered, and you clung to her waist to resume your frantic pumping.

It didn't take you long to reach your orgasm too, it only took a few pounds against her extremely wet pussy for you to explode inside her between loud moans that you didn't bother to hide. Mina moaned with you, and rubbed your chin as you shot your load into her. You pumped slower, making sure that all your hot liquid filled her pussy very well, and after a few seconds, you slowly came out of her with a little 'pop'.

"Does that seem full enough to you, baby?" you asked with a small smile, while you felt some drops of your cum fall on your pubis.

"Actually yes, cutie," she reached a hand between her legs, and scooped up some of the cum that spilled from inside her pussy to bring it to her mouth as she looked into your eyes. She swallowed it all, and then she got off of you to sit off to the side, "Momo-chan, why don't you come help me clean up?"

Momo, who had stepped down from the pole and who had one hand between her legs with her gaze fixed on your cock, nodded immediately and approached you with slow steps of a hot model. She looked into your eyes, and you took the opportunity to get a close look at her statuesque naked body, especially her pretty and visibly wet pussy.

She didn't take her eyes off of you as she knelt on the ground in front of Mina, only as she dove right into her pussy, lapping up every drop of your cum and eating Mina's pussy in the process. Mina moaned, caressing Momo's hair as she wiped her clean.

"Damn, you sure are fucking delicious," Momo said, licking her lips and wiping her chin with the back of her hand, "but I need that cock in my pussy right now."

Momo stood up and straddled you quickly, bracing her thighs on either side of your hips and pressing her pussy against your lying cock, which soon began to return to its full hardness. From there Momo looked like an absolute goddess that you were willing to pray to every day of your life, her abdomen was perfect, creamy and toned, and her tits were without a doubt one of the most beautiful you have ever seen. That's how you let her know, taking your hands to her breasts to feel them, and they did feel like two soft cotton clouds, which barely fit in your hand.

"Her tits are amazing, aren't they?" Mina teased next to you, patting one of them gently to make it bounce, Momo giggled.

"I don't even know what to say… fuck," you gasped, putting your hands on her waist.

"You don't have to say anything, shut up and enjoy the best ride you'll ever have," Momo said, lifting her hips up and grabbing your cock to impale herself deep on it, "Fffffuck!" she moaned out loud, once your cock had disappeared inside her.

"I'm going to pass out thanks to you two, for God's sake," you moaned, closing your eyes for a moment and throwing your head back. Momo felt tighter, which was driving you completely crazy.

"Pass out once you cum inside me, pretty boy," Momo said leaning forward, pressing her big tits against your chest and grabbing your face to kiss you, as she began to move very slowly up and down, taking every inch your hard cock in and out of her tight pussy.

Your lips and Momo's became involved in a fierce battle that even involved your tongues, you muffled moans against each other, and you began to cover every inch of her body with your hands, feeling every muscle and every piece of skin from her back, to her shoulders, her legs and finally her ass, which moved sensually on top of you.

You squeezed both buttocks hard, and after a few seconds you separated from her lips to now attack the rest of her face with multiple wet kisses, going down her long neck, her shoulders and finally ending up on her wonderful tits, which you were incredibly happy to put them in your mouth, first the right one, taking as much as your mouth allowed and sucking it as if it were a delicacy, then sucking on her nipple and giving it quick licks that made Momo moan louder as she moved slightly faster on your cock.

Momo clung to your neck with both arms, one hand on your shoulder and the other on the nape of your neck, burying your face deeper against her tits, which you were eating like you hadn't even had breakfast that day. She seemed to love having her tits eaten like that, as she tangled her fingers in your hair and squeezed your cock even tighter with her pussy. Her hip movements increased in speed with each passing second, but she made sure not to lose even a bit of sensuality, in a perfect combination of rhythms that drove you both crazy.

You surrounded her body with your arms, and letting yourself be carried away by your carnal impulses, you began to pump your cock up and down, Momo stayed still, and let out a growl followed by a long moan while you pounded her pussy as fast as you could, which was already faster than she was moving. The sounds of your flesh crashing against hers overlapped with the music, which was now I Want Someone Badly by Jeff Buckley, and you muffled your moans against her soft mounds inside your mouth.

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Seeing how Momo's entire body bounced thanks to the pounds she was receiving from below was one of the most hypnotic experiences you'd ever had. You wished you could see how her buttocks jiggled, but you were content to see how Momo's heavy tits bounced.

"Fuck, you sure know how to move those hips honey," Mina said from one side of you, who just watched everything carefully.

"Holy shit yes! Of course he knows it!!" Momo yelled releasing everything she had been wanting to vocalize since a few minutes ago when you were destroying her pussy, "But I'll make him fucking cum myself."

Momo separated you from her tits and pushed you so that you supported your back flat on the back of the sofa, she also made you stop moving your hips, and planted both boots on each side of your hips to start crashing violently against your cock up and down, determined to nail you to the seat with such force that you were going to be split in two. You gasped for breath, squeezing her tits with both hands as she bounced back and forth.

"I won't last much longer..." you said under your breath, but Momo heard you thanks to a small moment of silence in the song.

"Then let's fucking cum together baby," she put her hands on your neck, smirking at you as she bit her bottom lip and bumped into your slightly sore pelvis.

It only took you a few crashes to reach your second orgasm of the night, you jokingly said you were going to pass out, but it wasn't so funny when this time you had such an explosion of pleasure that your vision blurred for a few seconds. Momo cummed seconds later, and she pushed down hard to rest her ass against your pelvis as you shot your entire thick load into her tight Japanese pussy. She moaned loudly, unconsciously cutting off your breath with her hands and moving very slowly now in sensual spasms.

"What the fuck whas that..." you said in a low voice, once Momo had let go of your neck and returned her knees to each side of your torso, letting herself fall forward and resting her head on your shoulder while you still inside her.

"I told you, the best ride you were going to have in your life," Momo murmured in your ear, and then she placed a little kiss on your neck. She slowly lifted her hips, pulling your cock out of her pussy so all the cum flowed free. Mina quickly got off the sofa, and she knelt between your legs to lick Momo's pussy, scooping up all your cum and swallowing it without hesitation. She also made sure that your cock was clean, not taking it to her mouth but licking every inch of it with great dedication, including your balls now emptied by two hot Japanese girls.

"You'll be back tomorrow, is that clear?" Mina said from behind you, then stood up and spanked Momo, "I'm sure there hasn't been a more delicious and incredible cock than yours, and we certainly won't waste it."

"I'll come back as long as the boss agrees," you said with a smile, resting the neck on the backrest and closing your eyes to relax.

"If it were up to me I would let you live in here and make you my sex toy," Momo said, hugging your torso with both arms, "so that's a yes," she laughed.

After about 10 minutes the three of you returned to normality, Momo and Mina were already fully dressed and like new just like you, and they accompanied you to the exit to say goodbye with a kiss on the cheek each. You drove back to your hotel with a big smile on your face, proud of yourself and your patience for having waited so long for that damn place that marked a before and after on that trip.

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When you arrived the next night Mina was already waiting for you just downstairs, tonight she was wearing a different outfit, as expected. This time she was wearing extremely short jean shorts with no safety pants underneath, a cropped white T-shirt, and thigh-high fuchsia heeled boots. Her hair was also different, this time she had four braids on each side of her head, adorned with small jewels that you assumed were diamonds.

"Hello there, pretty boy," she said, leaning against the wall, looking you up and down.

"Oh, what a nice surprise," you said with a smile, offering her your hand to take hers and place a little kiss on it.

"Let's go inside, Momo-chan is waiting for us," she pushed herself away from the wall and hugged your arm for you to walk with her into Momo's office.

In there everything was in the same arrangement as the night before, same lights, and same erotic atmosphere. Momo was waiting for you sitting on the sofa opposite the one you were on last night, cross-legged and wearing an outfit almost as hot as the one she wore yesterday during the pole. She was wearing a loose-fitting, open white chiffon blouse, tight shorts and a black leather top, and black velvet high-heeled boots that were slightly shorter than Mina's.

"Just in time, sweetie," Momo said looking at you with a small smile, "I was starting to get a little horny with the sexual flashbacks," as you and Mina got closer, you noticed the peculiarity that this time the coffee table was completely empty. except for one thing: a bottle of lube.

"I see you prepared for this occasion huh?" you asked amused, pointing to the lube with your chin.

"I just want to do a little experiment today, if that's okay with you," she stood up and walked slowly to stand in front of you, Mina behind you.

"I can imagine where the shots go..." Mina grabbed you by the waist, you turned over your shoulder, meeting her face to give her a small kiss on the lips and then place your hands on Momo's waist, bring her closer to you and press Momo's tits against your chest, "so yeah, I'm in."

Momo put her hands on your shoulders and leaned forward to meet your lips with hers. This time there was no foreplay of any kind, and the atmosphere heated up very quickly in a very short time, you and Momo shared a wild and indelicate kiss, while Mina behind you kissed your neck and put a hand inside your pants to grab your cock, squeeze it and then start massaging it.

Your hands ran through Momo's body, caressing her slender legs and then squeezing her ass to start undressing her completely, making sure to leave only her blouse and black boots on her. Mina did the same with you, taking off your hoodie and your pants until you were only in your boxers, you took off your shoes, and immediately afterwards, Momo herself took charge of lowering your boxers to your ankles, releasing your cock ready for the Japanese hotties .

"Only you are missing," Momo said to Mina, who was still fully dressed. You turned around, and you both began to undress Mina while each of you kissed one side of her neck. Momo took off her top and bra, and you took off her jean shorts and pink panties, leaving her completely naked except for her boots.

"Momo-chan..." she gasped, while Momo played with her pussy with her fingers and you kissed her tits, "I want to suck his cock."

"We want to," Momo corrected her with a smirk, grabbing your cock and giving it a couple of slow strokes. Mina also added her hand on your balls, massaging them very delicately, "go sit down pretty boy."

"At your command boss," you nodded, going to sit on the sofa where Momo was sitting before.

Both naked beauties walked side by side to stand in front of you, they stared at you for a few seconds, and then they faced each other to share a hot kiss that made your cock throb. They touched each other, Momo played continuously with Mina's ass, and Mina played with Momo's tits, all this while they knew that all your attention was on them.

After a few seconds in which they both separated in search of breath, they knelt between your legs, Mina on the left and Momo on the right. Mina started by giving you little kisses on your inner thigh, and Momo grabbed your cock with one hand to start spreading little kisses from your balls to your tip. After a few seconds, they switched roles, Momo kissing your thigh and balls while Mina kissed and licked your shaft and tip.

A chill ran down your spine when you felt the hot breath of both girls against your crotch, Mina and Momo smiled, and both now concentrated on sucking and licking your balls. You gasped, and leaned both arms on the back of the sofa while both mouths left your balls well salivated, while Momo's hand gave slow strokes to your cock.

"Do you want to go first, Minari?" asked Momo, giving a kiss to the tip of your cock.

Mina didn't even answer, she just took your cock with one hand and brought it right into her mouth, making you moan and frown. She began sucking on your tip slowly, swirling her tongue around it as she moved her hand up and down. Momo just limited herself to watching with desire as Mina looked into your eyes as her mouth went down your shaft more and more.

Mina's mouth reached a little more than half of your cock, she placed her hands on your thighs, and between subtle beautiful moans she began to move her head up and down, sucking your cock so well that it made you shudder and moan. Momo smiled at your reactions, and she began to kiss Mina on the shoulder while she was concentrating on giving you a slow and sensual blowjob but also with a lot of saliva.

"Fuck," Mina gasped taking a breath as she pulled you out of her mouth, little strings of saliva between your tip and hers lips, "Momo-chan, your turn,"

Momo took you directly into her mouth with a deepthroat that took both you and Mina by surprise. You growled, feeling the tip of your cock touch Momo's throat for a few long and torturous seconds as her saliva spilled out the corners of her mouth. When she pulled you out of her mouth for air, she didn't give herself even five seconds of rest before diving back into your cock, this time to give you a frantic, messy blowjob.

While Momo slurped like crazy on your cock, Mina straightened up a little to be able to reach you and join her lips with yours, you moaned against her lips, and she caressed your chest with her hand affectionately. After a few seconds, Mina knelt down next to Momo again and focused on sucking her balls, slowly rising until she met Momo's mouth going up and down.

In a sudden coordinated attack, Momo slowed the pumps of her head so Mina could join her tongue on the back of your shaft, running up and down over your drenched cock. Momo took you out of her mouth, and found Mina on your tip to share a torrid and sloppy kiss with your cock in between, using their tongues too to make you feel like you're in heaven.

"Holy fucking shit!" you growled, bringing a hand to your mouth as Momo and Mina feasted on your cock.

Mina took you into her mouth once more, and sucked on your cock for a few more long seconds until Momo finally stood up, grabbing the bottle of lube from the table behind her.

"Okay, enough," Momo ordered, breathing hard and her face red with pleasure, "you're going to fuck my ass, right now."

"And then mine," Mina said, "you better do a good job, I fucking love anal."

"Oh you do?" you asked, biting your lip and giving her a little spank to her bare ass, Mina smiled.

"Fuck yes I do daddy," she said in an extremely sexy voice that made you gasp.

"Come here right now, boy," said Momo, who was lying on her back on the opposite sofa, her head resting on one of the bracers and her legs wide open.

You stood up and went with her, who handed you the bottle of lubricant so that you could do what you wanted with it. Having the green light with her, you opened the bottle and the first thing you did was pour a little on each tit, to leave them very slippery and shiny. Momo smiled, and played with her own tits spreading the lube, while you now poured it over your cock and her butthole.

"Come on, put it in daddy," Mina murmured in a seductive tone, who had joined you on the couch. She was kneeling behind you, her face to the side of yours.

You took your cock in one hand and brought it to Momo's butthole, applying just a little pressure so that it began to be swallowed up by her incredibly tight walls. Your shaft slid all the way in in less than a minute, and both you and Momo moaned in pure ecstasy at the pleasurable sensation.

"That dick is stretching me out so fucking good! Fuck!" Momo squealed as your cock rested deep in her ass. You held onto both of her creamy thighs, pressing them back and beginning to slowly rock your hips back and forth, making sure every inch of your cock entered and exited inside her.

"Fuck..." Mina moaned in your ear, "that looks delicious daddy, pound that ass hard."

Momo's tits began to bounce faster and harder as you increased the speed, and with it increased even more Momo's loud and high-pitched moans, which were like music to your ears as you pounded her ass. with every inch of your cock.

"Holy fucking shit..." Momo gasped under her breath, being shaken like a rag doll by your cock, "Holy fucking shit that feels so fucking good!!" she shrieked, arching her back and then biting down hard on her lip.

"Choke her, she loves that," Mina muttered with a giggle, watching you turn Momo into a complete mess.

You complied with Mina, bringing your right hand to her attractive neck and applying considerable pressure with your fingers around it. Momo tightened her ass around your cock, and her mouth gaped as she had her breath cut off thanks to your hand. Mina was right, she absolutely loved it, her brow furrowed, and her cheeks turned red.

Her oily tits looked too hot while bouncing to not give them their proper attention, so you brought your free hand directly to one of them, squeezing and holding onto it as you pressed hard on her neck. A small bead of sweat trickled down your temple from the constant shaking. You gave the tit you were squeezing a hard slap that made Momo growl, who closed her eyes and pursed her lips.

"Oh she's so fucking close.." Mina said, giving you little kisses on your neck as you pumped against Momo's ass, "don't stop daddy…"

You gave Momo another slap on the other tit, which now had a small red mark thanks to your hand, and then you brought your other hand to her neck to lean on it and hit her ass as fast and hard as possible as you could. It was a matter of seconds for Momo to explode.

It took a lot of effort to keep her still on the sofa without knocking you both to the floor, her spasms were so strong that you had to forcefully hold her with your whole body. You let go of her neck, to now immerse yourself in it with little kisses and bites, Momo was finally able to scream as much as she wanted, sailing through her intense orgasm.

From that position, Momo wrapped both legs around your torso, enclosing you between her thighs so that you could continue pumping in and out of her ass.

"Fill my fucking ass with that hot load..." she murmured, biting down hard on her bottom lip and wrapping her arms around your neck to kiss you.

Not more than a minute passed after that order when you felt the tingle going down your abdomen, and after a few more thrusts you began to shoot all your seed into Hirai Momo's ass. She let out a long moan of satisfaction, feeling how you filled her with thick hot liquid. You slowed down considerably, giving her a few more thrusts before standing back up and slowly pulling out of her ass, letting your cum immediately spill onto the couch.

"Okay, my turn daddy," Mina gently bit your ear, and pulled you off the couch with her.

"Fuck, you're not patient at all, are you?" Momo asked, still out of breath. She brought two fingers to her own ass and scooped up a large amount of your cum to take straight to her oiled tits, adding to the glistening coating of fluids.

"Not after he fucked you this good," Mina replied, getting to her knees and hands on the cold floor, you picked up the bottle of lube and knelt behind her.

"How much do you like anal?" you asked Mina, seeing her round and perfect ass below you, to start pouring lube on her bottom and then on her butthole.

"Every day when I get home I fuck my ass with a 7 inch dildo," she said bluntly, "does that answer your question?" she asked back as you smeared the lube over her creamy buttocks.

"I hope I'm as good as that dildo then," you chuckled.

"We'll see about that," she looked over her shoulder at you, shaking her ass slightly, "now put that dick in there daddy," she asked, biting her lip.

"You calling someone daddy?" Momo asked from the sofa with a mocking smile, legs crossed as she looked at you, "this is historic."

You didn't give Mina time to respond, you positioned the tip of your cock in her butthole, and a single slow thrust was enough to easily slide right to the bottom of her ass. Your cock disappeared between her gorgeous ass, and you two moaned out loud. Her butthole felt differentially better than Momo's, but clearly you weren't going to express that out loud, you simply dedicated yourself to enjoying it in complete silence.

"Oh shit!" Mina whimpered, dropping her head and resting her cheek against the floor, "feels just like my dildo!"

"Are you sure about that?" you started moving slowly, making sure she felt the full thickness of your cock stretching her butthole and making an outrageously hot scene.

"It feels better that my fucking dildo, fuck!" She covered her mouth with one hand as she scrunched up her face in pleasure, and you gave her a hard spank to her right buttock to make her squeal.

"That was just what I wanted to hear," you bit your lip, grabbing onto Mina's waist with both hands and beginning to pound her ass slowly but hard, making her bubble butt jiggle and shake with the rest of her body.

"To think that Takashi was about to kill him," Momo giggled as the two of you were in your own bubble.

You gave Mina another spank, harder and spicier, and then you started moving exponentially faster and faster, soon your cock was hammering into her ass at a high enough intensity level to make her start screaming and biting her knuckles. Mina's ass crashed hypnotically against your pelvis, and you couldn't help but hold on to her buttocks with both hands as you began to hammer with all your might.

"Ffuuuck!!" Mina whimpered with her hands planted on the ground, desperately searching for something to hold on to, "just like that daddy, give it to me daddy!!"

Prisoner of your deepest carnal instincts, you dared to do what you wanted to do so much yesterday. You took Mina's braids with both hands, and giving a strong pull back, you made her slightly arch her back with a torn cry of pleasure. You wrapped a small part of her braids around your hands, and with that you continued to fuck her perfect ass with all your might.

The sound of your bodies colliding took over the entire acoustic space of the office, even echoing off the walls and making the experience even hotter than it already was. You didn't want to let go of her braids even remotely, that way her back looked fucking sexy as did her ass, and if all that wasn't enough, her fuchsia boots also added a perfect touch to the equation.

"Cum all over this cock baby, come on!" you growled, pumping at full speed in and out of her slippery ass, "Cum and you'll have this fucking load as deep in you as you want."

"Yes daddy!!" Mina squealed, and you undid one of her braids so she could turn around and you could see the reddened, twisted face of hers, "Please give me your whole fucking load! FUCK!!" She growled from deep within her, and then clenched her ass in anticipation of what would be her orgasm.

Mina reached her peak of ecstasy in a violent and intense way, she pushed her ass back, preventing you from moving for a moment while her body shook like crazy between strong spasms and squeals of pleasure. Seconds later, even through her orgasm, Mina started fucking herself against your cock.

"That's it baby, drain daddy's balls very well," you gasped pursing your lips, letting Mina's ass bounce over and over against your cock until you felt your orgasm close, that's when you took control again.

You clung to Mina's waist again, and a few frantic pumps were enough for one last strong thrust forward, you will begin to shoot thick strips of cum inside Mina's perfect ass, who smiled seductively, looking back at your cock buried between her buttocks.

"Oh god daddy… you're filling me up sooo fucking good," Mina moaned under her breath, taking control once more and rocking her ass against your cock as you let the last drops of cum inside her.

At that moment, several loud knocks were heard on the office door that made all three of you jump.

"Momo-sama! Koko ni anata no sonzai ga hitsuyo desu!" said a voice familiar to you from behind the door.

"Fuck, Takashi really is the man of opportune moments," Momo said sarcastically rolling her eyes, “Sugu ni ikimasu!”

"Aw... you have to go, sweetie," Mina wailed, and you pulled your cock out of her ass still with a racing heart and heavy breathing, "an important client is coming, surely I should go too."

"No problem," you assured, massaging her buttocks and squeezing them one last time as you watched your cum spill from her butthole to the floor with a grin.

"Come back tomorrow, okay?" she said, kneeling up so she could breathe properly, "we're not done with you yet."

"No?" you asked, standing up and looking for all your clothes.

"Absolutely not," she denied, scrambling to her feet, "we still have you to thank for being such a good boy to us these two days," she smiled.

"Very good, very good," you nodded with a smile, "do you need help?"

"Actually yes, but come with me to the bathroom, we'll clean the three of us together," she approached you and grabbed your hand, leading you and Momo to the bathroom.

You, Mina and Momo were in the bathroom for about 15 minutes, washing your bodies and removing all kinds of bodily fluids from them before going outside. The two of them didn't have time to say goodbye to you that day, but you went back to your hotel happy knowing that the next day would probably be the best of all.

———————————————————————

The next night there was no one waiting for you just downstairs, the only one who stood out among all the girls and customers was Takashi, who just waved you in the direction of Momo's office. You bowed respectfully by way of thanks, and he bowed back as you walked past him.

When you entered Momo's office, apparently the fun had already started without you. Momo and Mina were on one of the sofas, both completely naked and sharing a torrid kiss. Mina was on top of Momo, with a thigh between her legs rubbing against her pussy, and both sets of tits pressing against each other. You cleared your throat to get their attention.

"Am I interrupting something, ladies?" you asked with your hands in your pants pockets. They broke the kiss, and turned to see you with an excited smile.

"We were waiting for you, honey," Momo said, winking at you, her hands on Mina's waist.

"I got horny and couldn't help but eat her pussy," Mina admitted with a giggle and biting her lip, "sorry daddy."

You went down the two steps, and stood a meter from them.

"How about you come here and help me?" you asked, and they stood up to go with you.

They both stopped in front of you, and the one who took the lead to kiss you was Mina, who took you by the face and crashed her lips against yours in a kiss that little by little became more and more intense. Momo got down to business with Mina, removing absolutely every possible garment from your body until the three of you were completely naked.

Momo was the next to kiss you, and while you were in a wild exchange of saliva you started to touch both of them, your right hand on Momo's sweaty tits and your left hand squeezing Mina's ass, while both of them had their hands on your now completely hard cock.

You tried to take your hands to her pussies, but Momo stopped you.

"Uh-uh, this isn't about us, honey," she shook her head, moving her hand slowly over your cock, "you'll be the only one tonight."

"Are you serious?" you asked, and they just nodded, little smiles on their faces.

"Of course we are, now sit there, you'll like this," Momo stepped aside and pointed to the sofa, you went to sit down, attentive to the Japanese's next move.

Mina went to sit right next to you, and she began to give you little kisses on the neck while she caressed your chest with her hand. Momo took out another bottle of lubricant, exactly the same as last night but completely new. She stood in front of you, and while she looked you in the eyes, she began to pour large amounts of lubricant directly on her tits, you were mesmerized, watching as she then spread it until she left her like two shining pearls.

"Ready to get completely drained tonight, daddy?" Mina whispered in your ear, while Momo knelt between your legs and took your cock to put it between her breasts.

"Fuck, I'm more than ready," you gasped, watching as Momo pressed her tits together around your cock, you automatically felt like heaven, and closed your eyes with your mouth parted as Momo began to move her chest up and down, making a meat sandwich with your throbbing cock as the filling.

You locked gazes with Momo as her lubricated tits did wonders for your cock, which she made completely disappear between her mounds with each pump, only the tip being visible each time she moved up. She smiled, moving her chest a little faster, making you moan and cling your fingers to Mina's thigh, who kept kissing your neck and now your clavicle.

You took Mina from her face and made her look up to crash your lips against hers and drown your moans in the middle of a kiss that she was happy to reciprocate. Momo, meanwhile, was now moving frantically up and down, using her tits as the perfect sex toy.

"Do these big tits feel good around your cock, pretty boy?" she asked even knowing that she wasn't going to receive an answer since you were submerged in a torrid kiss with Mina, but that didn't matter to her, it only increased her desire to make you feel even better.

"Make sure you don't cum on her tits, daddy," Mina murmured against your lips, "she and I agreed that I would have your first load."

"Let him have fun with my tits for a few more seconds, Minari," Momo said, tightening her grip on her own tits so she could press them harder around your cock, "I'm sure he's enjoying it, isn't he?"

"Fuck of course I do," you moaned, throwing your head back with a ragged breath.

It took about a minute for Momo to release you, finishing with a big spit on your dick and taking it to her mouth to suck it for a few seconds and then stand up.

"It's your turn, Minari, finish it," Momo smiled, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and shaking her tits from side to side for you.

"With pleasure," Mina said, "lie down daddy, please."

You nodded and lay down on the sofa, resting your head on the armband while Mina was kneeling between your legs. She stood up for a moment, picking up the bottle of lube and pouring the thick liquid directly onto her thighs. You already knew what was coming.

When Mina's thighs were slippery and shiny she put the bottle of lube down on the coffee table and climbed on top of you. She pressed her chest against yours, and reached behind her with one of her hands to take your cock and put it right between her thighs.

Her creamy smooth thighs tightened around your cock, and you moaned loudly as Mina began to rock her hips up and down, fucking your precum-soaked cock with her thighs slowly at first. She looked into your eyes, your vision obstructed by her hair, which fell free over the sides of your faces; she smiled seeing your face twisted with pleasure, and cradled each side of it with her hands to give you an affectionate kiss.

You couldn't stop moaning in the middle of the kiss, prisoner of the immense pleasure you felt from having your cock fucked by a pair of perfect legs. She caressed your cheeks with her thumbs, and after a few seconds of leisurely rhythm, she began to move her hips faster and faster, which she knew how to do more than well.

"Oh my fucking god Mina," you gasped under your breath against her lips, but she kept kissing you, "it feels so fucking good, I'm so close."

"Good to know, pretty boy," she murmured now pecking your cheek and chin, "Cum all over my perfect thighs."

Mina concentrated on moving her hips as perfectly and precisely as she could, stimulating every part of your cock with her thighs until when you least expected it, you erupted incredibly hard. You shot your entire thick load between loud moans, which you were sure had not only landed on her thighs, but her buttocks as well. You squirmed under Mina, since she hadn't stopped moving for a single second while you came, which caused a slight overstimulation that you certainly didn't complain about.

"Mother of God," Momo said in surprise from somewhere to your left, "I've never seen so much cum come out of a cock."

"I agree," Mina agreed with a proud little smile on her face, "I feel all my thighs and ass warm."

"Let me help you, cutie," Momo said, and as Mina turned to face her, brushing her hair out of your face, you could see Momo kneeling down to one side of you to begin cleaning Mina's thighs and buttocks clean. She had swallowed every single drop of your load.

"Now it's Momo's turn, darling," Mina whispered in your ear, "destroy her mouth and that pretty makeup."

Mina got off of you, and went to sit on the opposite sofa to rest a bit, leaving you alone with Momo, who was looking at you from top to bottom biting her lip.

"Can you get up, pretty boy?" she asked teasingly, "you look like something out of Project X."

"As long as it's to fuck your mouth and leave you in a mess," you replied boldly, a small smirk on your face.

"Oh, you're looking forward to it aren't you?" She raised an eyebrow, "Come here and test me then, honey."

Momo left the sofa space and knelt on the floor, quite close to the place where you had fucked Mina's ass last night. You stood up, and went to stand right in front of her with your cock all drenched in fluid floating over her beautiful face.

"Don't spare her, daddy," said Mina to your left, leaning back on one of the sofas as she watched you, "that bitch doesn't deserve it."

Momo only saw you anxiously, licking her lips and waiting for you to bring your cock just a little closer to her mouth. So you did, taking your shaft with one hand and taking it inside her mouth so that she would clean it completely between sucks and licks. When your cock was completely hard and clean again, you stopped her.

"Stay still, hands behind your back," you ordered Momo, and she immediately obeyed her command, bringing her hands behind her back to then open her mouth wide and fully stick out her tongue. her for you

"My goodness, what a submissive," Mina teased, and you swiped the tip of your cock against Momo's tongue a few times, before placing a hand on the back of her neck and sliding your cock into her mouth.

You knew about Momo's ability to support a cock deep in her throat, so you didn't hesitate for a second to fill her entire mouth with your length in the first thrust. Momo's nose rested against your pubis, and you left it there for a few seconds in which you had your mouth ajar to let out a gasp. You placed your hands on either side of her head, and soon began to slowly move your hips back and forth.

You kept the pace slow and steady for just under thirty seconds, just letting Momo warm up for what was about to come. You continued to cling to the sides of her head, and with your feet firmly planted on the floor, you began to move your hips faster and faster, fucking her impassive throat between moans that increased in volume with the passing of the seconds.

It wasn't long before your cock started to get soaked with Momo's saliva, which was starting to spill out of her mouth and onto her perfect tits. Momo had no problem having her throat hit at that speed, but you were doing it so hard and fast that even she started making soft gagging sounds.

You took one hand from her head to flex a bit and give one of her tits a hard slap, intending to make Momo moan around your cock and send vibrations all the way down your shaft. Meanwhile, you used your other hand to grab a handful of Momo's raven hair and use it as a grip to move her head in conjunction with your hips to reach just a few inches deeper into her throat.

Your goal of leaving her a mess was beginning to be fulfilled, saliva was spilling everywhere and falling everywhere, and Momo's makeup began to run in the form of small black drops that ran down her cheeks along with her tears. You caught eyes with Mina, and she gave you a mischievous smile of approval.

"Give that bitch your load daddy, use her like a pathetic cum dump!" Mina encouraged you from the sofa, and you slapped Momo's tit again while you grabbed onto her hair with such force that you felt like you could rip her scalp off.

It didn't take more than a minute when the blood began to pump rapidly towards your cock. You didn't think about it at all before you did it, and you certainly didn't realize it, but instead of slapping her tit, you slapped her cheek hard (so hard that her skin was completely red). Luckily she loved that, so she moaned even louder around your cock, and that was enough for you to explode inside her mouth.

You pursed your lips and growled, pushing your cock deep down her throat to shoot the first drops of your load in there, then slowly moving your hips and starting to squirt all of your seed into her mouth. Momo's tears kept running down her cheeks, as she did her best job swallowing every drop of your cum, but still letting some spill out of her mouth and onto her tits.

You finally came out of her mouth, and Momo took a gigantic gulp of air, coughing over and over again with her gasping breath, her mouth and chin soaked in fluids and her makeup completely ruined.

"Fuck, you were serious about destroying me, right?" asked Momo looking up at you.

"Your little friend helped with it," you said, also gasping for breath as you looked at Mina,

"I'll take care of that little slut later," Momo said with a sigh.

"Aha, are you ready for our final little game or not?" Mina asked Momo.

"I am, but our boy needs to rest for a moment, don't be an anxious bitch," Momo said standing up and grabbing your face hard to give you a deep kiss. You took advantage of the moment to massage her tits, and give her a small spank on her buttock.

After that you three rested for about 10 minutes, just making out and playing with each other's bodies until you felt able to take one more round again.

"Okay, I'm ready girls," you said, sitting on the couch with each next to you, Momo on your left and Mina on your right.

"Well, I certainly don't think you are, honey," Momo said amused as she exchanged glances with Mina, who nodded and reached for the bottle of lube to sit facing Momo, feet on your thighs. Momo imitated her, and to your surprise, they started pouring lubricant on their pretty feet.

"Oh shit..." you whispered, watching both pairs of feet turn pearly shiny and slippery. Mina then poured lube over your cock, using her hand to spread it well over your length and over your balls as well.

"Ready?" Mina asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," you admitted, relaxing with your back against the headrest, and they both laughed before taking their positions.

They both leaned back a bit, so that they could slightly extend their legs and start working with their feet on your cock, and you didn't know how badly you needed to experience something like that until you felt their toes move along your entire length. You let out a long, deep moan, raising both arms behind your back as Mina and Momo gave you an amazing double footjob.

"He's enjoying it…" Momo said proudly, using one of her feet to stimulate your balls as well, while the other moved up the side of your cock. Mina had taken the other side with one of her feet, and her other foot stimulated your tip.

"Fuck yeah..." Mina nodded, biting her lower lip, working her feet all over your cock as if she had done it a million times before.

You were overwhelmed by such an incredible sensation, the two coordinated to stimulate different corners of your cock with their toes, the main focus of attention being your tip, on which all the slippery fingers swirled and made you squirm in your seat.

You considered yourself a man with a strong and resistant psyche, but faced with such a sensation there was not a single man on the face of the earth who could be strong enough to be able to endure it for much longer.

You clenched your fists tightly, and began to breathe heavily with your mouth half open. Momo and Mina noticed your obvious arousal, and they used both their feet to give you a perfect and fast footjob that made you moan even louder. You couldn't take it much longer, it only took a few more movements of her feet around your cock for you to explode as hard as the first time.

Your cum flew everywhere at first, but then it started flowing like a strong waterfall to fall on both pairs of feet, completely staining each of their toes as they moved their feet now slowly, making sure to milk you the best they could. .

"Fuck yeah baby..." Momo gasped, "you came almost as much as when you painted Mina's ass."

"Did you enjoy it daddy?" Mina asked, "my princess feet did the best they could."

"I don't even know what to tell you... mother of god," you gasped, utterly exhausted and with your soul nearly ripped from your body.

"Your cock speaks for itself, you don't have to say anything," Momo and Mina set about cleaning your cock, each taking a side and taking turns bringing your cock into their mouths one last time until they cleaned you again.

"We're going to miss you around here daddy..." Mina said a bit sad, remembering that you were a foreigner and that you were only there on vacation. You will be back in the UK soon.

"I'll be back, Minari," you assured, using her pet name, "rest assured I'll be back..."

———————————————————————

Spren Notes:

Man, that certainly was a wild ride. I honestly think this is (to date) my favorite Twice smut written by me. It is simply impressive and I am extremely proud of the result, I hope you are too! Remember! If you, dear reader, are interested in buying me a commission, do not hesitate to go through my inbox, I’ll be delighted!

#twice smut #mina smut #momo smut #kpop smut #smut fanfic #tumblr smut #smut #x male reader smut #x male reader #x male smut #male reader smut #Youtube

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moonbaetarot · 26 days

Text

Pick a pile

What are people’s first impression of you

1. 2. 3.

Pile 1

People see you as someone who has their life together they see you as someone who can do everything all at once. You know how to balance life. I feel like these impressions are coming from one place you may just go to work or school and at this place your good at what you do your good at your job or your smart you do good at school. People definitely see you as smart and successful. People see you and think wow there parents are definitely proud of them. People see you as someone with money you may wear nice clothes or always look put together you definitely look like you come from a good up bringing. If your religious people can tell what that religion is or they may be curious on what your religion is. People see you as a flower I don’t know how to describe it but you give like pretty flowers vibes.

Thank you for reading loves!🤍

Pile 2

People see you as someone who is reserved someone who is hard to open up at first. You’re observant you like to just sit in the back and keep your eyes on everything. I getting big Scorpio vibes for this pile so your could be a Scorpio or have scorpio or water in your chart. People see you as very intelligent and logical tho like a whole room of people can’t figure out how to use a camera and it takes you 5 seconds to figure it out. People see you as someone how doesn’t like spontaneous things if it isn’t planed you’re not going lol. You give good advice especially career and like mind advice. People may see you as an introvert someone who doesn’t really go places if they don’t need to it’s home right when you’re done with your outing. People see you as a good listener your good at remembering names, dates, times Normal things that people would forget easy.

Thank you for reading loves!🤍

Pile 3

People see as very outgoing like there’s a lot to unwrap about you. People definitely see you as an attractive well put together person. You’re seen as adventurous and someone who loves traveling. People may think you’re tourist even while in your home town. you have a very good listening face even when your ears are not listening. people also get impressions of you on social media. I feel Iike you give many types of vibes like it’s ether you just change it up depending what mood your in you or you have just different personality with different people like with when your at work it’s one vibe and at school it’s another. If you have anxiety or stress out a lot people can tell just by your face and body language. I feel Iike you hate meeting new people like “omg do I really need to talk to this person right now” like 1 minute into a conversation you need to go to the restroom lol Or like that annoying family member at the family get together comes to talk to you and like “uhh someone please save me from this conversation lol”.

Thank you for reading loves! 🤍

#pick a card #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick a pile #pick an image #tarot cards #tarot deck #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarotblr

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bau-muffin · 2 months

Text

“It’s All Wrong But It’s Alright”

Summary: You and Aaron Hotchner have an interesting relationship. He’s your boss, and you’re one of the agents underneath him.

What happens when you get triggered during a case, and comforting you leads to something more?

Word count: 6,006

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Reader

Read it on AO3

mentions: SA, CSA, it’s implied that reader has a history of CSA, oral sex, fingering

Hotch knew as well as anybody that this case would emotionally weigh heavy on the team, maybe even more than it usually did.

They had successfully apprehended Monica Menzel and her sixteen year old son Jacob, but certainly not before uncovering disturbing details that would more than likely haunt the team for the rest of their lives.

The victims, all of them, were below the age of nine. There were no preferences in boys or girls or hair color, not even eye color, but they were all tortured and sexually assaulted in the same exact way, and then their bodies disposed of and covered with a tarp, as though in remorse. As it turned out, Jacob was losing control and abusing these children while Monica disposed of them quietly.

It made Hotch doubt whether good in humanity ever existed, especially when he thought of Jack waiting at home for him to come back so he could tell him all of the shenanigans he had gotten up to at his Aunt Jessica’s and regale him with the details of classroom drama.

And, he figured, the rest of the team were thinking similar thoughts, their minds all engulfed with the children in their lives and how it only takes a split second for every sense of safety to become compromised.

But as the team left the precinct, neatly separated into SUVs, and caravanned back to the hotel, Hotch looked over at you in the passenger seat and wondered who you were thinking of. When he had opened the door for you, you’d sat down and not even murmured a “thank you,” like you usually did, instead looking as though you were a million miles away. He knew something was turning inside your head. It didn’t take a profiler to see it.

“Are you all right?” he asked as he flipped up the blinker to make a turn.

“I’m exhausted,” you replied, almost too quickly. “We’ve been up and at it with this case since five this morning, and I didn’t sleep very well last night. Probably didn’t get more than three hours

in total.”

When Garcia had booked hotel rooms for you guys, she disclosed that since the town was at the peak of tourist season, she couldn’t book enough rooms for everybody to have a room of their own; which meant that two agents would have to take one for the team and share. You and Hotch had drawn the short straws, but despite being a subordinate and superior sharing a room, it hadn’t been awkward at all. You each had a double bed and made yourselves at home.

Still, he was all too aware that you had tossed and turned into the wee hours of the morning, and more than ever he wished he could have assuaged whatever was bothering you.

“Was the bed uncomfortable for you?” Hotch asked casually, his eyes still on the road.

“Not at all. I was just… thinking, is all. You know how it can be.”

He nodded solemnly, his lips forming a solid line. “I do know.”

You hummed an affirmative noise before turning to look outside the window, though there wasn’t much to look at since it was already almost dark and most of the street lights were still off.

Hotch wished you would open up to him. Heck, even before, you didn’t mind opening up to him, even just a little. But now it was like a barrier loomed around you and your thoughts, forbidding anyone who dared approach.

“For most of this case, I found myself thinking of Jack,” he confided, glancing over at you.

“Yeah? I don’t doubt it. Having kids when you’re in this line of business… it can’t be easy.” For a moment, your tone sounded open and concerned, and he sensed your eyes on his side profile.

“It’s not at all,” Hotch said quietly with his eyes still on the road ahead of him. “It makes me wish I could take Jack somewhere and hide him away from the ugly side of humanity. But… I’m all too aware that’s not feasible, nor is it healthy. So, we persevere together, and all I can hope to do is guide him until he’s ready to step out into the world on his own.”

“I imagine he’s already seen too much of how ugly humanity can be,” you said gently.

“He has. There’s no hiding it from him now,” he admitted softly.

“Once you’ve seen it, heard it… you can’t go back from it. Even that young.”

Something in your voice made him glance your way intensely. Was it… wistfulness? Melancholy?

It was quiet for a few moments as he focused on driving while you turned back to the window and continued staring out. He figured he couldn’t force you to confide in him, so he may as well give you space, but he was still worried; probably more than he’d like to confess.

As soon as you entered the hotel room, you beelined straight for your suitcase. “I’m going to take a shower first, if that’s alright with you?”

Hotch nodded as he began plugging up his devices on his side of the shared side table. “Perfectly fine with me. It’ll give me time to call Jack before we settle down for the night. Take your time.”

You began gathering up your clothes and necessities and toted them to the bathroom, the door closing behind you softly. Hotch had never wanted to wiggle his way into your brain more and find out what was going on in there.

He’s always known you had a soft spot for children, and he was first hand testament to it, just witnessing how you’d interacted with Jack every time Jessica brought him by the BAU for a visit or when he would bring Jack for an event at Rossi’s—you’d always taken time to ask him how school was, you’d ask about some project or another he had told you about before, and often times you’d reach out to ruffle his hair fondly. When he had read up on your files during the hiring process, he also learned you had nieces and nephews, and from how you spoke of them, you seemed to love them and had a good relationship with them; probably a tad bit protective, especially considering what you’d seen on this job.

But something about the way you were withdrawing and reserved now suggested this was personal, much more personal than you wanted to let on.

Still, Hotch felt like it was none of his business, and picked up his phone to call Jack.

By the time he finished an exuberant conversation with his son and Jessica, Hotch heard your blow dryer running. (you always kept an extra blow dryer in your go bag. Derek once suggested you take it out to have more room for clothes, and Hotch thought you’d form daggers with your eyeballs and throw them at him. (Derek never brought it up again.)

Fifteen minutes later, you walked in with your dirty clothes and stuffed them into a mesh bag in your go bag; and Hotch felt like he’d been punched in the stomach.

He hardly ever saw you dressed this casually. Your hair was down, fluffy at the crown from blow drying it, and wearing a large oversized t-shirt and shorts, as well as colorful fuzzy socks on your feet. But your face—it made him stop cold. Your eyelashes were wet with freshly shed tears, your eyes were rimmed with redness, and your cheeks were spackled with flush.

Hotch said your name, but he was interrupted.

“Hotch… just—hold me,” you said pleadingly, your voice cracking slightly.

Wordlessly, Hotch opened up his arms to you while he was sitting on the bed, and you fell into him, burying your head into his chest while your body spasmed with sobs.

He didn’t even care if you got snot on his dress shirt. Whatever comfort you needed that he could afford you, he wanted to give it to you. A washable shirt was nothing compared to the weight you seemed to be holding inside.

Soothingly, Hotch rubbed your back while his chin rested on your head and whispered, “Hey, hey.”

You continued sobbing, and tentatively his hand moved up to your hair, stroking it softly. Soon, the shaking and spasming ceased, and you just leaned into him, and the first breath you exhaled seemed like it released twenty pounds of burden from you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked gently, his hand roving politely over your back. He couldn’t help but think about how the cotton shirt under his hand was the only thing separating him from your skin; probably just as soft and gently dewy if your face was any indicator, but he pushed it away as soon as the thought came—now was not the time.

You were quiet for a moment.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Hotch said quietly, “but I know that talking about it… it can help, getting it out in the open.”

“I don’t want to burden you, Hotch. This case was heavy for all of us,” you all but whispered, almost muffled by his shirt.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve noticed you shutting down after a case. Especially pertaining to child abuse. I’ll respect your privacy, but you need to know you don’t have to bear this on your own.”

You chewed your lip as tears threatened to spill over again, contemplating your options. Lie to your boss and evade the question? Pretend everything was okay? Maybe tell him you’re emotional because you’re on your period?

Finally, you lifted your head away from his chest and looked at him. It was almost breathtaking how much comfort and care you found in Hotch’s face, and it sent a shiver down your back as the kindness in his warm brown eyes melted you.

“Hotch…”

“Aaron,” he urged softly, “call me Aaron. Don’t you think we might be beyond work nicknames now?”

“Aaron,” you tested out the name on your tongue like a foreign object as your tone lowered, “I… I have a history with…. sexual abuse.”

“It’s not in your file,” Hotch said, concern creasing his face, and a little bit of his professionalism seeping in.

You shook your head. “It wouldn’t be. I had it sealed away.”

“But-“

“I knew it would affect how people, especially employers in our field, would look at me, Hotch,” you said, “especially as a woman. I… I’m considered weaker emotionally, at least from the stereotypical level anyways. Swimming with this upstream in my public record would’ve held me back. I hold up, and I save my breakdowns for when I get home. And in my defense, this is only the second one I’ve had since I started working at the BAU.”

Hotch looked at you, his brows slightly furrowed. “That… makes sense. But I still wish you had told me- or at least one of us- about this. We could have helped you reach out to resources. You… didn’t deserve to carry all of this by yourself, especially when you know your cases might trigger you.”

“It’s taken me a while to trust anybody with this,” you said softly.

He’s silent for a moment, his hand stilling while it was smoothing your hair. “Do you trust me?”

“I trust you every day in the field with my life, Hotch.”

“Aaron,” he reminded you, “You do. But… do you trust me with your past?”

“Yes,” you murmured.

Silence fell between you as you both seemed to become aware of what was happening in that moment.

Your head was on his chest, as it moved up and down with every breath. One of his hands was in your hair while the other was resting on your back. Your hands were splayed on his shoulders. His lips were only mere inches from the crown of your head. Your legs were resting between his. You were in his arms and the shiver of sadness that came with crying was being chased away by the warmth of them around you.

The temptation on Hotch’s part to kiss your head, your nose, your lips, it was almost surmountable. But he didn’t want to take advantage of your vulnerability, or his position as your superior. He couldn’t do that to you.

So, you did what any subordinate would spontaneously do when they’re a little fatigued by his politeness- you reached up and kissed his face, only missing the corner of his mouth by half of an inch.

He said your name almost in a gasp.

It was such a simple thing, but it shifted the world underneath you both.

“I’m your superior,” Hotch reminded as much to himself as to you, “we can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“You’re emotionally vulnerable right now. I’m your boss and you’re my subordinate, so there’s also a power imbalance. And I- I’m so much older than you. You could have any man you want, you don’t have to settle for me.” His voice cracked almost minutely when he mentioned settling, but you heard it.

You scoffed as you lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not settling, Aaron. I don’t know who told you that nonsense, but no one is settling by… by being with you. And… I may be emotionally vulnerable, yes,” you admitted before your tone turned soft, “but I’ve… I’ve been wanting this for a long time.”

Hotch felt surprise jolt through him and he tried to lean up a little more even with you on top of him, though his hand still cradled the small of your back. “Oh, really?”

“Are you really so surprised?”

“You’re just…” he struggled to find the right way to say what he meant, “you could have anybody you want, you know? I’m a middle aged man headed towards being over the hill, with emotional baggage, and a young son.”

“You’re also emotionally constipated,” you said with a small smile tugging your lips.

He chuckled quietly, and you felt the vibration of it from his chest. “Is that supposed to convince me?”

“It means I’m aware of your shortcomings, Hotch. Or what others may view as shortcomings.”

There was another beat of silence, then things started moving like a whirlwind.

He rolled you over so that you were underneath him, and his nose rubbed the side of your face as he lowered his mouth to your ear. “You really need to start calling me Aaron during these intimate times, don’t you think?”

You gulped as you looked up at him.

“Are you sure you want this?” Hotch asked quietly, “I would feel… so guilty if you ended up… regretting this later. It’s okay to take a bit longer to think about it.”

There was a hint of passion in your voice as you tilted your chin up to him. “You don’t know how long I have been thinking about this, Aaron Hotchner.”

That lit a fire in him that he didn’t know he had a wick for, and his hands slid over the sides of your face as he tilted your head up towards him, inspecting the flush that had formed on your cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful. I’ve always been aware of it, did you know that?”

You opened your mouth to answer, and he covered your lips with his own, feasting on you like a man starved. It wasn’t long before his tongue asked entrance, and you granted it, his tongue grazing against yours.

You weren’t sure how you expected Hotch to kiss. Passionately? Without a doubt. Fervently? Definitely. But you didn’t realize “reverently” and “frenzied” were adjectives that could be used together, and yet it was perfect.

You hadn’t realized you were doing it, but you were grinding against him, his slacks rubbing against the cotton of your shorts, eliciting moans from him that you’d never heard before, but felt like music to your ears as it sent a shiver down your spine. In response, his hands slid to your breasts, his thumb rubbing against your nipples through your thin T-shirt in gentle circles as the rest of his hands cupped your breasts.

“Someone didn’t wear a bra,” Hotch said almost cheekily.

“I wasn’t exactly expecting to get felt up tonight,” you laughed.

“I suppose not. You really are beautiful, you know that? And seeing you under me… I never thought you could get prettier, but apparently it’s possible.”

“Aaron…”

Hotch continued rubbing your nipples, gently, but with enough friction that it shot pleasure through you. “That’s right, sweetheart,” he whispered, “Aaron.”

“Do you mind doing me the honors of removing my shirt? Please?” You asked.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he breathed, kissing your forehead before he gently set about removing your shirt, shimmying it over your head before tossing it unceremoniously on the AC unit under the window.

You watched nervously as his eyes roved over your chest, almost feeling the burn of his gaze on your skin. But then he began leaning down and kissing a path from your collarbones, down to your belly button.

“Sweetheart, your breasts are magnificent,” he whispered before pressing kisses to each of them, “they’re just right for me.”

“Are you so easy to please?”

Hotch kissed your breasts again in answer, slower this time, as he nipped and sucked on the skin, leaving hickies in his wake. He chuckled to himself as he looked at his handiwork.

“I truly hope you weren’t planning on wearing a low cut shirt tomorrow.”

“I wasn’t, but I guess you eliminated that choice for me.”

He smiled, almost deviously, if you could believe he was capable of it. “You could, but I think you would have to answer some… piqued interests. But I also think… one part of you wants to show everyone, that you were marked, by me. And…” his voice lowered, “I can’t say I hate the idea of it.”

Before you could form a reply, he inched down towards your nipples and took one into his mouth, sucking on them gently. He wasn’t at all surprised when he felt your fingers thread into his hair, tugging at them the more he played with your nipple with his tongue.

Before he switched to the other nipple, he looked up at you, almost ironically puppy dog-like. “Are you enjoying this, my dove?”

“Yes,” you panted, “I’ve… I’ve never had this done to me before.”

He froze where he was. “None of your other partners did this for you?”

You shook your head.

“Amateurs,” Hotch muttered to himself before licking your nipple, wetting it.

Before long, he was back at it, sucking your other nipple, far less gentle than the way he had started, and his hand squeezing and kneading the first breast.

“Dear god-”

He completely unlatched from your breast to smirk at you. “I’m afraid God has nothing to say in this little foray.”

Impatiently, you reached up to unbutton his button up shirt feverishly, your fingers clumsily clashing into each other. Hotch chuckled at your excitement.

“You’re so cute when you’re eager,” he murmured to you, his own fingers reaching down to assist you in unbuttoning his shirt.

“Do you know how often I’ve wondered what you look like under here?” You asked as your eyes watched more and more of his chest expose.

“I’m not exactly… Derek in terms of body shape,” he confided. “And maybe at one point, I would have rivaled him. But I’m afraid my abs have… congealed a bit, especially since I became a dad.” He unbuttoned the last button.

“If you think that will deter me one bit, you have another thought coming, Mr. Hotchner,” you said sassily as you began pushing the shirt off of his shoulders. It was your turn to marvel at him and his body- his arms were toned, his chest had polite smatterings of hair and, much like Hotch in every other facet of his life, a happy trail that could only be described as neat and tidy. He was right that he wasn’t built like Derek, but in every line of him, you could tell he held incredible strength even for the average middle aged man, even if he had an adorable hint of tummy that you wanted to press kisses on. The scars from Foyet did not escape you, and you respectfully reached to trace them with your fingers, a ghost of pressure. To know that he endured that, and thrived in spite of it… you felt soft towards this stern looking man.

“You’re sure you still… want a piece of this?” He said almost awkwardly with a smile.

“If I wasn’t sure before, I know I am now,” you assured him as you kissed the underside of his jaw, “you’re beautiful.”

“I’m… beautiful?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t tell me no one’s called you beautiful before?”

“Handsome, sure. Beautiful… no.”

“Well that’s just sad,” you pressed a kiss to one of his pecs, “because it’s the goddamn truth.”

You’d never seen him blush before, but you smirked with satisfaction when he turned red from his ears down to his neck.

“Are you ready to take this to the next level then?” Hotch asked, his hands moving down to the waistband of your shorts, playing with the drawstrings while he waited for your confirmation.

“Absolutely.”

With shaking hands, he began pulling down your shorts, tugging them down until he could discard them across the room, leaving you in your cotton underwear.

“You’re so wet already,” he said with a small smirk as his fingers touched the crotch of your underwear, hooking it to the side before ultimately deciding to just take it off entirely, as He quickly yanked it off and sling shot it.

“Those were my nice pair,” you mumbled, though you were thrilled at being completely exposed to him, feeling the crisp hotel air against you.

“I’ll buy you some more if they’re ruined,” he promised as he moved further down your body.

“You’re so perfect, you know that?” Hotch said as he began rubbing your clit. You squirmed but you couldn’t stop the moan that sprang from you.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he praised you, “the noises you make are almost provocative, sweetheart.”

“You’re too good,” you said breathlessly, the tightness in your stomach overwhelming you. Hotch chuckled as he kissed the side of your neck, careful not to leave a mark, knowing you’ll still have to ride on the jet home with the rest of the team tomorrow.

“I’m not sure if that speaks well of me or poorly of the guys you’ve been with before, sweetheart, we’re just getting started here,” he deflected slightly. He continued rubbing your clit, the circular motion sending jolts of what felt like electricity through your body.

Your hands instinctively reached to the side and gripped the sheets when he began sliding a finger in tentatively, his thumb on your sensitive nerves now, keeping the circular motion going. His eyes searched yours, those eyes slightly darkened by warm lust.

“Is this good?” Hotch asked.

“God, yes,” you bit out.

He hummed a noise of acknowledgment while he slid in a second finger, emitting a moan from you.

“You’re so tight, darling,” he murmured, “am I going to need to stretch you out a little before we get to the main event?”

“It’s been a while,” you admitted.

“How long?”

“Before I moved to Quantico.”

Hotch was quiet for a moment, surprise registering on his face. “Baby, that was… at least over a year ago.”

“I’m so busy with work that I hardly have time to meander into the dating scene. Haven’t really wanted to either.”

“Maybe we could talk to your boss about that,” he said teasingly.

You were about to respond when you felt his third finger slide in, and you took a deep breath.

“That’s my good girl,” he breathed into your ear, his voice low with desire, “taking me so well while I fill you up with my fingers, and taking those deep breaths.”

His fingers pumping in and out of you made you gasp and grasp the bed sheets even tighter between your fingers. You hadn’t, in a million years, thought you would be in a position where Aaron Hotchner was between your legs, pleasuring you with his fingers. Those fingers you had studied for months, fiddling with pens while he listened to others talk, and fantasized what they could do to you. Now you were feeling it, you were finally feeling what exactly those fingers will and can do to you- and the answer was “make you feel fucking amazing.”

The combination of his fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit was too wonderful to describe. You could write a sonnet and it still wouldn’t completely encapsulate how you felt.

“I think I’m ready,” you whispered.

“Are you sure, baby?” He murmured, “we don’t have to hurry. If it’s been awhile for you, then I think we should take our time. You deserve to be completely ready and comfortable.”

“I want to make you feel good too,” you said, glancing down at where you could feel his erection against your leg. Hotch blushed slightly.

“This isn’t about me, sweetheart. This is all about you. And you make me feel good when you feel good, making all those pretty sounds for me, knowing I’m the one who makes you feel like that, and that I’m the one with my fingers in your pretty pussy.”

You shivered again, but you bit your lip as you looked down at him.

“I still need to put my mouth on you, baby. Do you want that? To feel my lips on you while my tongue finds your swollen clit?”

“I… you don’t have to, I know some guys don’t-“

“Don’t tell me you think it’s an action of sacrifice on my part,” he scoffed with a smile, “like I said before, I want to make you feel good. I would be honored to eat you out, darling.”

Your cheeks were pink from the slightly crass words. “I didn’t even know you knew-“

“Just how old do you think I am?” Hotch rolled his eyes. He gently slid his fingers out of you and you barely stifled a groan as you felt the loss.

“So do I have your permission?” He asked, kissing your neck again.

“Yes sir.”

He smirked up at you as he bent his head towards your core. “You’re calling me sir now?”

“Terrible habit.”

Feeling Hotch’s lips on you was like nothing you’d ever felt before, but the moment his tongue began lapping at your clit, rolling it around and sucking on it, you don’t know where you went. Everything melted away, and all you felt was him.

Occasionally his eyes would flit up from his task and gauge your reaction, but every time, he knew you were more than satisfied. You grasped the bed-sheets tighter still, your head tilted back as a loud moan you didn’t realize you were making left your lips.

As his tongue searched relentlessly, hitting nerves you forgot you had, your legs jerked in response. Without even looking, his hand grasped your hips, stilling them firmly.

“Oh my god-“ you groaned.

Hotch moved away from you, his lips and chin covered in your juices, but a devious smile alighted on his face. “I take it that you liked it?”

You panted a few breaths. “A little.”

“Ah, yes, a little is what got your cum all over my face- imagine if it was a lot?” he chuckled as he moved himself up your body to kiss your lips, your juices meeting your tongue.

“Aaron, I…” you hesitated for a moment. He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Yeah?”

“I think… I think I want to do this again. When we get home in Quantico. And… I want to save the… you know, actual sex, for then. In one of our actual beds. Am… am I being too presumptuous?”

He kissed your forehead. “You would’ve been a fool if you thought I was going to risk it all for a one time thing, sweetheart. Of course I want this again, you’re not being presumptuous.”

Hotch moved to climb off of her, but you grabbed him by the belt loop with a hooked finger and a raised eyebrow, emboldened by your arousal.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You asked.

He chuckled. “As much as I loved eating you out, I can’t live with your juice on my face, dove. And… I figured you were signaling to me that we were done for the night, so I was going to clean you up.”

“We’re not done.”

“No?” He raised an eyebrow.

She glanced pointedly at his erection, tenting his slacks.

“Oh… darling, we don’t have to-”

“I know we don’t. I want to.”

Hotch leaned back on his knees. “Darling, I-“

“I hate having to keep interrupting you, sir, but perhaps losing the slacks will help us to continue this conversation.”

He reached down for his belt buckle with a laugh. “Bossy, aren’t we?”

Within a few seconds, he had unbuckled and his slacks beside the bed. Through his boxers, the outline of his dick was prominent, and you felt your mouth salivate at the sight of it.

“You did this to me, baby,” Hotch said softly.

You blushed, still looking at him, but your hands reached for the waistband of his boxers, and inched them lower.

“Damn, sweetie, do you have a permit to conceal this large of a weapon?” you drawled as you stared eagerly at his dick, the pre-cum gathering at the tip of it as it stood tall.

He chuckled, his cheeks turning pink. “This one and a few others.”

“How do you want us to do this?”

Hotch hummed. “On your knees on the floor, sweetheart. Do you need a pillow?”

You clambered off the bed and got on your knees, waiting for him to follow suit.

He stood in front of you, almost hesitant, but the moment you gingerly grasped his dick, something in his eyes snapped into action, and his hands grasped your hair, tugging at the roots slightly.

You licked him from balls to tip, and under your touch, you could feel him shudder.

Experimentally, you swirled your tongue around the tip, then eased it into your mouth until you felt him hit your cheek

“Fuck-” Hotch rasped, his grip in your hair getting tighter, “you’re teasing me, doll.”

You looked up at him with arched eyebrows, deviousness reflecting in the glint of your eyes.

“You’re such a sweetheart, you know that? All those times we were on cases and you’d do those cute little mannerisms of yours. You’d tap your finger to your chin, or you’d part your lips when you would lift your head to look at something. Or when you would drink your coffee and widen your eyes at me over your mug. You’re just- fuck.”

Of course, that sudden expletive was because you’d mischievously pulled a bait and switch and taken him all the way to the back of your throat, opening up wider for him.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he cursed, “sweetie, you’re marvelous, I- shit.”

You looked innocently up at him, although the slight shift in movement almost made you choke.

“That will teach you, you cheeky- oh god, I don’t know how much longer I can keep…”

Ropes of cum spilled down your throat, and somehow you swallowed it all, though it took a lot of effort to do so. After it dissipated, you pulled away from him, just sitting back on your knees and looking up at the beautiful man before you, his hands in your hair. To the eye that didn’t know anything about him, he was just an average middle aged man, but to hers, before her stood a man who had been through so much, and loved and cared despite the risks involved, and whose strength was unmatched.

Hotch gently pulled you to the bed and laid you down. “I’m going to be right back, sweet thing,” he said as he kissed your forehead before going to the bathroom to retrieve wet wash rags.

Thirty minutes later found you on his chest, skin to skin, and his arms around you gently.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” You asked.

“Probably, but what?” He replied before kissing the crown of your hair.

“When you said you noticed all of the cute little mannerisms I apparently do.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating his chest under you. “Absolutely I do. I’ve noticed from the beginning, when you applied for this job and came in for an interview. You kept touching your neck when you were nervous or felt vulnerable.”

Your eyebrows collided. “You were still in the process of divorcing Haley at that time.”

“I can’t say I immediately fell in love with you at first sight,” he admitted, “but I can say I felt like I met someone I thought would be nice to have around.”

“When… did you realize you liked me in a… in a different way?”

Hotch stroked your back. “When you remembered Jack’s birthday and sent home a little present by me to him.”

“God… Hotch-“

“We just went through all of this for you to call me Hotch? Really?” He smiled cheekily.

“It’s a habit! Anyways, you… you’ve known for that long? And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to cross any lines that I shouldn’t have,” he said simply.

“We’re going to have to figure out how to deal with the fallout from here, you realize that, right? And Strauss.”

“God, I didn’t think I’d hear Strauss brought up post coitus,” Hotch groaned. You laughed heartily.

“Let’s just… keep it between us. Just for now.”

“For now,” he agreed. You snuggled into his chest, and fell asleep like that.

Of course, you forgot that he left a mark on your collarbone when you had to untangle your limbs from him the next morning to pack up and get on the jet and go home. You couldn’t use the curling iron excuse, not that far down. And it was simply too hot for a turtleneck. So, before you boarded the jet, you made up your mind to gaslight everyone. And you meant everyone.

“Am I crazy or is that a hickey?” Derek pointed out when you sat across from him at the four seater, closest to the window. Hotch lifted a brow and widened his eyes at you from where he was sitting, conveniently facing you at the two seater behind Derek.

“God, Derek, don’t you know anything? This is a birthmark.”

“A… a birthmark?” Derek sounded bewildered. “Girl, I’ve known you for almost over a year now. You didn’t have a birthmark.”

“You didn’t notice? I’m almost hurt, Derek Walter Morgan.”

“That is not my real middle name, you know that, right?” Derek leaned back in his chair. “Where could you have possibly gotten any lovin’ from, hm? I know it wasn’t boss man.”

“You know, Derek is right. I don’t remember you having a birthmark,” Spencer jumped in from where he was perched on the couch across from you guys.

“Oh c’mon, Reid, like you’re the most observant person in the room!” You said with a smile.

“I know an iron burn when I see one and… sorry, but that’s not it,” Emily quipped.

“It’s just a birthmark- have you guys considered concealer exists? What’s next, you guys believe Emily naturally has berry red lips too? Gullible.”

“So… why did you leave it off today?” Rossi asked, obviously suspicious.

“I woke up late. Didn’t have time to do my makeup routine.”

This begrudgingly seemed to suffice most of the team, but Rossi was no fool, and he noticed Hotch’s t-shirt under your flannel, and winked at Hotch, who only rolled his eyes, then glanced at you, a vulnerable smitten woman among profilers.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #smut

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rootbeersturniolo · 1 month

Text

the first part of this series.

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: the new semester at chicago university started with nothing more than the troubles of relationships, rumors, and studies. everything was going fine until the death of their bestfriend. at the end of the day there’s only one question they can ask; would you love somebody enough to kill for them?

warnings: mentions of death and murder, alcohol, drinking, semi public smut, homophobia, assault.

Chicago, Illinois. The place I’ve been living in for the past nineteen years. Most people look at our city as a tourist attraction. The scenery catching many visitors eyes as they stopped through the states of the northeast.

What made it so interesting? I wouldn't know. There was much beauty to the actual city, I'll admit that, but there was more mystery under the rooted trees of Illinois.

My life in Chicago was something I’ve grown comfortable with, almost like a routine.

Walking back from school with my best friends while the wind entangled our hair, a group of people I cherished with every fibre of my being.

I met Natalie first, she was one of the popular girls in our elementary school and I was… not. But one day she asked me to color with her and she’s been stuck by my side since, like sisters.

We argued occasionally, like sisters did, but other than that we’ve been close ever since. We’ve made it through middle school, high school, and now we were attending college together, along with the a few other members of our group.

Through Natalie I met Jackson, yet another person who I considered to be too popular for my presence, but somehow the dynamic worked.

The two of them have been on and off since freshman year of high school. Though, no matter how much they went through they always ended up together again. No amount of tears would stop that.

Nobody even considered what they had to be a relationship. Most wouldn’t even consider it love. They loved each other obviously, they’d known each other for so long. But they’ve never been in love, but in lust instead.

It was not a relationship I ever aspired for.

When I was left to play by myself at recess, Nick had approached me, his atmosphere was immediately welcoming and we became swing buddies for the rest of middle school—Even when it was considered childish.

Nick was someone I could tell everything to, there was never judgement between the two of us and it was always comfortable, safe.

Clicking with Nicks brother Chris was easy, him and I were practically the same person and we shared so many similar thought processes. It was like a brother-sister dynamic, sure, there was bickering and teasing, but at the end of the day I knew he’d be there for me. His words of affirmation got me through high school, but for a while Matt was just sort of… there.

He was never one to start a conversation, even getting him to actively participate in one was a stretch. He was reserved and mainly kept to himself. I didn’t mind though, because when he did speak it was sweet.

Our dynamic started to change our junior year of highschool. Through raging hormones, and the fact we were always together, it was inevitable that our friendship would soon change.

Now we’d been together for two years. The best two years of my life.

Matt was my first boyfriend, and he was the perfect example of how every boyfriend should be. He was loving, caring, and would do anything for me. I’ll never forget the day that changed everything.

“Chris! What are you doing?” Nick asked, visibly annoyed at his brother’s actions. Chris just rolled his eyes in response. “It’s a small bite Nick calm down, you’re acting like I ate the whole thing.”

Nick scoffed. “Have you heard of asking? Last time I checked we weren’t obligated to share food since we were in the womb thirteen years ago.” He rolled his eyes.

“Hey guys—” Matt started speaking from beside me, not getting far before his brother interrupted him. Like usual.

“It’s ice cream Nick, not gold.” Chris replied as he takes another bite of his own fro yo, clearly not understanding or caring for his brother’s frustrated reaction.

Our group had decided to bike to the local ice cream diner on the warm summer day, especially because those days aren’t common in Chicago.

“Guys let’s—” Matt’s cut off yet again, even after raising the volume behind his voice. I look to him briefly, not wanting to stare but also feeling bad for the boy.

The rest of the group eventually continues their conversation, not even acknowledging Matt or his attempts to speak and it’s clear he’s defeated—his head laying low as he mumbled something to himself.

I felt a slight sting to my heart looking at him like that, it wouldn’t feel right to join in with the rest of the group. “Hey Matt?”

His head perked up, he made eye contact with me as a slight glimmer of hope re entered his face. “Yeah Charlotte?” He asked.

I smile, him and I aren’t close, but for whatever reason seeing him happy made me happy. “What were you trying to say earlier?”

Ever since that simple summer day, getting ice cream with the group, Matt and I had a newfound understanding for one another.

He wasn’t always listened to, getting caught behind his over achieving brothers in almost every aspect of his life, but I would always be there to tell him that he’s doing enough—that he is enough.

This wasn’t a one sided thing though, I had often struggled with surges of sadness. There wasn’t always a reason but it could easily get to a point where I’d lose all motivation for everything and feel incredibly helpless—and maybe I was a little helpless, but I always had Matt there to try to help and that’s what stuck with me.

He’d clean my room if it felt too overwhelming to complete, or just sit in silence next to me when I didn’t have it in me to speak to him. It’s a mutual relationship that’s carried by balance on both ends and it works for us.

This general understanding of one another has made us… close.

“Mm— fuck just like that.” I let out a muffled moan as my eyes rolled into the back of my head, a familiar hand covering my mouth as our bodies moved in a rhythm that suits us.

My leg begins to ache slightly as it’s propped up on a toilet seat, but it’s impossible to focus on anything when Matt’s thrusting his hips into me at a pace I can’t stay quiet in—one hand is placed gently on my lower stomach as leverage for him to thrust impossibly deeper into me while his other hand holds a firm pressure on my swollen lips, keeping me silent.

Public sex was not something on my bucket list, but the combination of my boyfriend's neediness and my inability to focus on anything other than his hands… it was kind of inevitable.

“Stay quiet baby, cmon.” He speaks quietly, clearly fighting back moans of his own as his tip continually makes contact with my g-spot, the angle only making the feeling more intense.

One thing about a quickie is that it needs to be quick, the loud music pouring through the hinges of the door serving as a constant reminder that we aren’t entirely alone.

I’m unable to speak fully, but Matt knows me well enough to know I’m close by the way my back arches away from him and my toes curl slightly onto the seat.

He also knows exactly what it takes for me to finish quick.

The boys lips make gentle contact with my exposed neck, sucking at a spot he’s grown comfortable with while his hand on my lower stomach inches even lower. “You gonna cum for me here? Getting fucked senseless in a public bathroom turn you on?” He asks.

Once again I’m unable to reply, if I speak, I moan—and that’s the last thing we need with our whole friend group out in the living room, oblivious to our current position.

His fingers make a light contact with my throbbing clit, causing my head to fall back into his shoulder as my body shutters at the touch. Subconsciously I clench onto him, nearing my orgasam already, what’s unfortunate is that he’s unable to mask the moan that escapes his lips.

I love his noises, always have—but right now? I wish the fucker would shut the hell up.

He looked at me with an apology riddled in his blue eyes, and it’s hard not to forgive him with his fingers that pick up the pace on my clit and his hips that continue to slam into my walls.

Definitely forgiven.

I grab on the sink in front of me to stabilize myself, my orgasam still threatening to release onto the length inside of me, my mouth widening at the sensation coursing through my body. He leans in to whisper into my ear once more. “Can you be quiet cumming on my cock pretty girl?”

I nod almost too enthusiastically as the build up in my stomach becomes too overwhelming to ignore, squeezing my eyes shut and biting my lip, trying so desperately to stay quiet—although with Matt’s slip up, it might be a lost cause.

My abs clench as shocks of pleasure shoot through my muscles, the feelings of Matt’s chest pressed against my back has me smiling at the closeness of it all, the small amount of intimacy that can come with a bathroom quickie.

He finishes practically right after me. He also got off knowing how good he made me feel, that was his favorite part.

With one more kiss planted on my temple he pulls out, discarding the condom in the small trashcan while I slide my pants back on, pulling down my shirt slightly to fully cover myself again.

We look to each other once more, mentally preparing ourselves for the walk of shame, knowing Matt’s loud ass will be teased by our friends awaiting our return. I place a finger on his chest. “This is your fault Matthew just letting you know.” He smiles slightly before opening the door and walking out to the slightly less crowded living room.

Our friend group resides in the living room, sprawled around the floor and the couch, most of them at least five drinks in.

Matt’s hand stayed interlocked with mine as we occupied our recent position on the couch beside the window cill littered with our old drinks.

I knew someone was going to mention something regarding Matt and I’s disappearance to the bathroom, but the last thing I needed was the recently found annoying voice from across the room to bring it up.

“Did you two have fun?” Natalie asked, raising her eyebrow as she leaned further against her seat. I rolled my eyes before shaking my head, taking my previous cup from the window.

She clearly sensed my annoyance, but she was drunk, and she was also Natalie which meant she didn’t care enough to move on.

“Better than doing it with Collin’s in there.” She chuckled lightly, her flushed cheeks turning into a smile as she ran her fingers throughout her dirty blonde locks.

My grip on Matt’s hand tightened out of pure frustration and embarrassment. At a party full of half of our class, and this is what she wanted to talk about. The rumor had been spreading like wildfire, and there was only one person to blame.

Natalie.

Her recent inquiries and speculations over me hooking up with our professor for extra credit instead of just doing the work myself.

"We've all been there before, there's no shame." Natalie shrugged as she brought the red solo cups to her matching red lips. Her eyes were heavy and her words were slow, more relaxed than her usual personality.

l let out a soft sigh as my gaze traced towards her.

This wasn't the night I wanted to talk about anything regarding Natalie's theories about my personal life. Even though they were obviously wrong, and everyone else could vouch for that.

She looked at me with her drunken eyes, her expression screaming I don't believe you as she took another drink.

"I don't blame you, he's hot."

"You're just getting ridiculous." I finally snapped, my jaw slightly clenched as I turned to her once more. Suddenly the attention was only on me. She furrowed her eyebrows in surprise. "Do you have anything better to do?” I shook my head.

It was becoming hard to pretend that her constant comments weren't driving me crazy. Even if I knew that they shouldn't, and even if I knew that what she was saying was just her own personal beliefs.

The room quickly turned silent as my eyes remained on Natalie. Her cheeks flushed red. Either from the alcohol or being put on the spot for the first time in her life.

"Excuse me?" She replied, setting down her drink as a soft laugh left her lips. I let out a frustrated breath before pushing myself from the couch, letting my feet take me as far away from her as possible. Even if that was just the kitchen.

I placed my hands on the counter, taking a deep breath as the crowd pushed around me, pouring endless combinations of beverages into their recycled red cups.

Only a few moments had passed before a pair of ringed hands came in contact with my waist. I let out a muffled sigh as Matt turned me around, my face coming in contact with his. He smiled gently, running his hands along my hipbone.

"You ok?" He mumbled, scanning my face as I rolled my eyes with a shrug. I crossed my arms over my chest before I finally nodded. "I'm fine, she's drunk." I replied.

“Doesn’t mean she’s not annoying you.” He replied, his cold rings continuing to glide along my hips as his eyes stay fixated on my own.

He’s right of course, Natalie became more and more annoying as time went on, her inflated self esteem made it impossible to be around her sometimes—but she’s still apart of the group that stays rooted in middle school friendships.

“I’m just sick of the shit.” I pause, taking a quick swig of whatever random substance resides on the counter next to me. “But professor Collin’s? Really?” I sighed.

He frowned gently, pushing a strand of hair behind my face as he continued to look down at me. His eyes had been slightly glazed over from the alcohol mixed with our recent events.

“I don’t love the way he talks to you.” He said, quietly enough to avoid anyone overhearing this conversation. The rumor was already spread, no need to continue to slander my name.

I roll my eyes. “He’s a nice guy with a wife and kids. I don’t think he’s an actual weirdo he just…” I paused my words. “He chooses the wrong way to say things sometimes”

“He also wants to get in your pants.” He blurts out slightly.

I can’t be bothered to continue this conversation anymore, we’ve talked about it before but I stand by the innocence of the teacher-student dynamic I share with my professor. “He’s not the only one.” I tease, pulling Matt closer to me by the loops on him jeans, his hips connecting with my own.

“Ok, weirdo we get it.” He shakes his head, a smile plastered on his face. “Why don’t we go back to the bathroom?” I asked, a faux frown plastered on my face as I tugged him impossibly closer. Our bodies pressed together.

He hummed in response before gesturing to our friends back on the couch. “They might think we’re ditching them.” He breathed out, his hands running along my hips.

“I’m okay with that.” I shrugged, a smile taking over my face as my gaze remained on Matt. He chuckled lightly before shaking his head. “Wait until I can treat you right on a real bed, make it worth your while.” He joked.

“I enjoyed it.”

“I did too.” He assured, nodding gently. “But it’s too risky to go back.” He spoke with a raised brow. It was true, it was definitely risky, but it was also so worth it.

Another sigh escaped my lips as I let go off his denim loops, wrapping my arms around my chest. He returned the sigh.

“Hey.” He breathed out, taking my hand off of my chest and interlocking them. “Don’t be mad at me.” He spoke, raising his eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes, starting to speak again before hearing a crash in the living room behind us. I furrowed my eyebrows, letting go of Matt’s hand as I walked from the kitchen towards the noise.

My eyes widened as I saw Bryce on the floor, the familiar boy Josh on top of him, continuing to swing punches like that was all he could do. Matt stood next to me, a heavy breath leaving his lips before rushing forward.

Bryce Reyes was Nicks boyfriend. They’d been together for exactly three months now, and he was one of the best and only additions to our group in a long time.

Always a light to our constant chaotic mess of a group, his smile providing a sense of calm to everyone, especially to Nick. It’s why we all like him so much, anyone Nick likes we like.

Natalie stood from the couch, drunken words leaving her slips as everyone watched the scene unfold in front of them.

“You like fucking boys?” Josh asked before his fists collided with his cheekbone again. The blood on his face was getting more visible by the minute, a panicked Nick stood in the corner of the room. The party went silent.

“Enough—” Matt yelled, placing his hands on Josh’s shoulders, attempting to pull him off of Bryce before he himself was pushed back. My heart raced in my chest.

Matt stood from the ground, frustration on his features as he tried to breakup the fight once more, but nobody paid any attention to him, still focused on the terrifying scene unraveling.

“You’re pathetic.” Josh scoffed, his hands tightening around the collar of Bryce’s shirt, pulling him from the ground.

“He said enough!” Jackson spoke, successfully pulling Josh off of Bryce who laid against the carpet with more than just a bloody nose. His hair was a mess, his eye was already bruising, and he looked like he had been found at the scene of a crime.

His actions were successful, Josh standing up before wiping his own bloody nose, a slight smirk pulling his the side of his mouth. Nick rushed toward Bryce’s side as the party slowly started to resume once again.

I glanced toward my side, a purely pissed off Matt standing with his jaw clenched. It was obvious why he was upset. No one listened to him. He shook his head before turning on his heel.

“Matt, where are you going?” I frowned, taking a step forward but he had already rushed toward the doors of the party. There was no point to try and run after him, he would push me away like he had been recently.

I sighed, running my hands through my hair. I needed to let Matt cool off, and I was fine doing that as long as I knew he was safe.

“Don’t stress.” Chris spoke, walking beside me as he held an empty bottle of vodka, clearly starting to cleanup the mess. “He always comes back.” He shrugged before walking past me.

Chris was my bestfriend, practically my closest, and I loved him. But sometimes I wish he paid more attention to his brother.

It hurt me to see him hurt.

My arms slumped against the wooden desk as I groaned lightly, the slight hangover behind my head. The fluorescent lights of the classroom hadn’t been helping either.

I had returned back to my dorm soon after. I hadn’t heard from Matt since, so seeing him for the first time in class was making me more nervous than I should.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he was mad at me for not running after him— I was just trying to help. But then again that’s usually where I seem to go wrong.

The only thing I did know was that Natalie hadn’t returned last night. My only assumption could be that she snuck off with Jackson after the party, and she was still intertwined against his body popping a bottle of pain killers or whatever else it is she does.

They had gotten back together one month ago after their two week separation period. The last time I had seen her she was drooling over him with a bottle of whiskey in her hand.

“Have you seen Natalie?” I asked Chris, furrowing my eyebrows with a soft sigh as I glanced around the room. There was still no trace of her, and the silence filling the air could prove it.

The early mornings of Professor Collin’s American history course were usually filled with recent gossip, and constant giggling.

Today it was silent.

And it was suffocating.

Chris shook his head with a soft shrug before taking his notebook from his bag, turning the pages as the desk beside me soon became occupied. I looked over to see Matt with an undeniable smile crossing over my face as he turned to me.

“You ok?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. He nodded quickly, returning the smile before taking his supplies out as well. I didn’t question him, instead nodding before our professor walked in, his eyes instantly finding mine.

He gave me the usual flustered smile before walking to his desk, turning the projector and preparing for the lecture.

I didn’t mind history, I actually enjoyed it. Though sometimes it got frustrating when my professor couldn’t find the right words to express how well I did on my recent assignment.

The class went by slow. Two hours of endless notes and timelines that I wouldn’t remember by the next day.

“One last question to wrap this up.” Professor Collin’s spoke, an amused smile on his face before his eyes turned to me. “You can answer, right?” He asked, raising his eyebrow.

I furrowed my eyebrow, sighing gently before looking down at my half assed noted. Instead of denying I simply nodded.

“Great!” He exclaimed, walking over toward me as his arms crossed over his chest. “During which war was a Christmas Truce called?” He asked. I took a deep breath, glancing down to my notes before scrunching my face in confusion.

“We didn’t learn that.” I shook my head. He nodded slowly before walking away from my desk. “We didn’t, but we did in my other history class. Which I think you would be interested in.” He spoke again. I sighed.

“I don’t have the time.” I replied, nodding slowly as I tried to change the conversation. The last thing I needed after last night was even more rumors circulating.

Especially when my boyfriend is beside me.

The professor frowned gently, clearly causing a scene in front of the entire class “Come on, you can’t drop one class— for me?” He asked. My eyes widened in embarrassment.

I didn’t respond, instead shaking my head as I swallowed my nerves. I could feel Matt’s eyes against my head like lasers.

“That’s ok.” He sighed again, before turning to the clock on the wall. “Class is over anyway.” He mumbled before sitting in his desk once more. I let out a breath of relief before standing up, sliding my books into my bag as quickly as possible before turning through the door.

My book bag was tightly pressed against my shoulders as I walked along the sidewalk of our campus. My eyes people watched with every step I took back to my dorm.

One of my favorite parts about our University was the variety of people that attended. Endless opportunities to make new friends, but for some reason I’ve had the same ones for years.

“Wait up!” A familiar voice called from behind me. I quickly turned around, my expression relaxing once I saw it was only Matt. He gave me a soft smile before running toward me, placing a soft kiss on my forehead before walking beside me.

“Let’s do something later.” He suggested as he interlaced our hands together. I liked when he didn’t mention the obvious.

“I can’t, I have to study.” I spoke with a soft sigh, frowning gently as he swung our arms back and forth. He chuckled lightly. “You’d rather study than see me?” He asked.

I shook my head, rolling my eyes. He was so stubborn sometimes. So prone to take everything out of context just to get a kick out of me.

“That isn’t what I said.” I replied as we continued to walk throughout the campus. He shrugged, our arms still swinging in the air. “Then have me over. I’ll help you study.” He spoke.

Another sigh escaped my lips. I wanted to see Matt, I really did, but Natalie would be back at some point tonight.

I also really did have to study.

There wasn’t a response from me, instead simple silence as we approached the building. I turned to him with a raised brow, an amused smirk creeping on his face. “So it’s a yes?”

“Fine.” I sighed, rolling my eyes as he smiled down at me. It was so hard to say no to someone with a smile like that.

“You know I love you, right?” Matt asked, playing with the lace fabric of my shirt as I read the book in front of me. Our bodies were intertwined as my back rested against his chest.

I furrowed my eyebrows before nodding, placing my bookmark in between the pages before closing my book. I turned around so I was facing him, my legs over his.

“I know.” I smiled gently, scanning his face with a worried expression. “Why?” I asked, the obvious confusion present in my time. He didn’t reply instead his cheeks filling red before he pulled me closer to him by my waist.

He brought his lips against mine, his hands moving up my sides. I almost melted into his touch instantly, but I wanted an answer.

I pulled away from him, a frown replacing his one blushed expression. “What?” He mumbled, sliding his hand under my shirt gently, letting it rest against the fabric of my jeans.

“Why’d you say that?” I asked, raising my eyebrow as I looked down at him. He shrugged before laughing lightly. “I just wanted to remind you.” He nodded. My eyebrows furrowed.

For whatever reason it felt as though he cut off his own thoughts, but our dynamic worked because I don’t pry, so I’m not going to start now.

He leans in once more, presumably to stop me from asking more questions, but it was easy to get distracted when kissing him.

My hands make their way to his hair, scratching slightly on the back of his head in the way i know always makes him shiver.

Unfortunately, being the boy that he is, he takes this as a sign to begin lifting up my shirt, pulling the fabric up on my back exposing the back of my bra.

“Ok lover boy.” I pull back out of the kiss. “As much as I’d love to continue this I do have to study and you are meant to help me.” I sighed, placing a finger on his chest as I’ve fully leaned away.

He lets out an overdramatic sigh, faking a frown as I pull myself off of him. “If I fail this lit course it will be your fault.” I say, refocusing my attention on the numerous notes displayed in front of me.

“Yeah yeah I get it. Be studious.” Matt sits up, leaning against me as I sort through all the papers that remain unorganized. “What’s this test worth again?” He asks as, resting his chin on my shoulder, his breath on my neck causing a slight chill down my spine.

“It’s like fifteen percent I think but—” I get cut off by the sound of my phone ringing, my mom’s profile picture lighting up the screen.

My relationship with my parents was complicated. I was raised by two workaholics who would rather solve numerous crimes than drive their daughter to her first ballet recital.

I respect it, obviously, but Chicago will always have crime. They do great things and they help people, I just wish it didn’t come at the expense of my childhood.

The phone doesn’t ring for long when I finally pick it up, a smile on my face. “Hey mom what’s up?” I asked, looking at Matt who has a stupid innocent smirk on his face.

As embarrassing as it might be to admit, I was excited my mom was calling me because at least, even if she was out at work, she was still talking to me. I loved talking to my mom—when she wasn’t swamped with cases that is.

“Char sweetie, It’s about Natalie.” She spoke with a tone that terrifies me, one that’s both serious yet cautious—something I wasn’t expecting when answering.

“What’s up? Everything okay?” My eyebrows furrowed, I’m sure Natalie’s fine, she always is. I would place money on her being at Jackson’s place right now with a killer hangover and a dead phone.

“Are you alone right now?” My mom finally asked, causing a sense of worry to course through my stomach. My face must show how i’m feeling because Matt adapts the same expression, one of worry.

“I’m uh, I’m with Matt right now. Are you sure everything’s okay?” I asked, worry fueling my voice as I await a respond.

“Natalie was murdered.”

You know when people say that certain phrases or experiences can freeze time? This was mine.

The rest of the call was a blur, my mom telling me to seek comfort in Matt because she’s swamped with this case, but really I just wanted to hug her, I wanted to hug my mom and have her tell me everything’s okay.

Death is weird. One second, someone’s there. Annoying or not they are there and that feels constant—until it isn’t.

I could find Natalie annoying all I want, and I could continue to be upset over a dumb rumor, but she was family to me, possibly the closest I ever had.

When I hang up the phone I freeze, eyes situated on the sight ahead of me as my brain tries to process this, tears traveling down my cheeks before I can fully comprehend this situation at hand.

Matt gently places his hand on my upper back and the contact was enough to send me over the edge, the build up in my stomach releasing and sobs exiting my mouth. “It’s okay baby It’s okay.”

He doesn’t even know why I’m crying, I doubt he heard the phone but he’s still here for me regardless. “She’s gone Matt, they said she was—” I choke, trying to gain composure for the boy. “She was murdered.”

I’m simply a mess, my stomach hurts from the muscles tensing at each sob I let out. Matt’s hand just rubs soft strokes on my back as my head falls into his lap.

She’s gone and the last thing I did was bitch her out. I can’t get that night back.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

a/n: sincerely, sienna and grace

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husbandhoshi · 3 months

Text

TO GROW LOVE (AND EAT IT TO THE CORE)

pairing: mingyu x gn!reader wc: 8.1k summary: your whole life, you've only wanted one thing. then you meet mingyu. suddenly you want too much, and you wish the summer never ended. notes: farmer!au, established relationship, angst/hurt/a little comfort

this is a birthday fic for my one and only cat @wuahae ! yes this is about half a year late but what can i say. all good things come with time. thank you for being so kind, funny, and thoughtful (and patient)! not a day goes by where i’m not thankful for our friendship :)

and a million thanks to hana @wqnwoos and jackie @97-liners for helping me with edits. literally you guys are insane writers and i will never stop looking up to you.

i. strawberries (the summer we were young)

When a strawberry is ripe, the seeds push out from the heart of the fruit, as if it's bursting from the inside out.

This is one of the few and only things you've learned by living in Seogwipo, where strawberry season comes like a supernova. The May sun, full and heavy, peels into summer, and the roadside farms open their doors, trying to catch stray vacationers from Jeju City on the other side of the island.

That being said, there are approximately two things to do here. One of them is farm. The other is pretend like you have a life, which is your childhood friend Yizhuo's favorite thing to do when she's back from university on summer break.

Today, this involved convincing her ritzy, too-good Seoul friends that they're missing out on this side of Jeju. (Missing out on what? You're not sure. Perhaps the chipped paint of the mural walls, or the endless flat-topped stretches of seagrass. Yizhuo isn't fooling anyone, but you've always liked stretching your legs out in the bed of her pick-up, even on the long drive to nowhere.)

Unsurprisingly, her friends quickly came to the same conclusion. Just one look at your local strawberry patch, with none of the glamour of the bloated tourist traps in the city, and they decided they'd rather spend the afternoon at the beach.

It was then, between the fragaria blooms, when you met Mingyu. He asked for your name, and the rest was history. Yizhuo and co. scattered like the grasping hands of an overripe dandelion and you learned that he was, one, the newly-graduated son of a pair of local farmers, and two, very, very attractive. Almost too much so, especially for a place like this.

Now he holds up a berry, a bright red murder between his fingers, and tells you to try it.

"You must be delusional if you think i'm taking food from a stranger," you laugh, perched on the fence bordering the field. It sprawls before you, melon stripes on the sunbaked ground.

"No, my name is Mingyu," he replies. "No idea who delusional is." His smile, all bright lip and snaggletooth, tears into the scarlet belly of a newly picked strawberry.

"We all know what happened to Persephone."

"Well, if the underworld was a strawberry patch, I wouldn't mind being stuck there for all of eternity."

"What're you picking all these for, anyway?" you ask, watching Mingyu struggle with his too-big straw hat between the vines. His woven basket bleeds over with little berries.

"Jam. I make it on the very first day of every summer."

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of questions for someone who trespassed on my farm. You're cute, but I won't let you off easy."

He laughs at how you balk, clearly red-handed. You're not sure how to tell him you don't think you were supposed to be here either. You don't do things like sit in the back of trucks, trespass, or talk to pretty farmer boys who take a fancy to you, but it's the summer before you graduate and you're not even sure how long you'll have to continue making bad decisions.

"Are you gonna take my first-born now?" you joke instead. The daylight runs down the rim of Mingyu's hat, trickles down his brow, and you wish you could pour the image of him into a jar and keep it forever.

"No, but I will invite you in for some fresh jam on toast. I baked a loaf this morning." and when you say nothing, he continues. "The strawberries are only good once a year. It's the best you'll ever have. Promise."

It's a whine and a half, and somehow you convince yourself this will be the last bad decision you'll make. You've been here long enough to know that good things don't come twice in Seogwipo, and he is unlikely to be an exception.

Yizhuo blows up your phone, you tie the gingham apron around Mingyu's tiny waist, and the basket turns to blood in the saucepan.

Mingyu is right. Love comes to you in that kitchen, high and red like the sun, and the jam never tastes as good as it does that summer.

ii. watermelon (hollowed out, like a magic trick)

"A good watermelon sounds like a heartbeat."

You watch Mingyu heave the fruit, small and striped, out of his grocery bag. It joins the array of egg sandwiches and banana milks you picked up from the store together earlier. (There should have been chocolate Pepero too, but you split the box on the walk).

You're on a picnic, sprawled out on the outcropping overlooking the water. The path up is basically right behind your house, but you had never cared to visit. It had always been the local makeout spot, a schlocky teen crawl for those with nothing better to do, and yet, with Mingyu stretched out beside you, it seems newer. More exciting.

You're still just friends, or at least that's what you told Yizhuo. But ever since you sat on Mingyu's kitchen counter and ate from his jam-covered spatula, you don't think you've gone a week without seeing him. It's been almost two months, which seems so long and yet not long enough—he makes it easy to be greedy.

"See?" He thumps the watermelon with the heel of his palm. "Try it."

You already went through this entire charade at the grocery store, right in front of all the local aunties, but you indulge him. There's little point to triple checking if it's still ripe, but you think he just likes hitting it.

"It sounds good," you say. "But how are we even gonna eat it? We don't have a knife."

"Watch this." Mingyu procures a coin from his pocket. "You didn't learn this in elementary school? I feel like everyone was doing it."

"Here?" you ask, incredulous.

"Yeah, here. I grew up here too, you know."

He holds the edge of the coin to the skin and slams his palm into it once more, so that it lodges itself into the rind, and begins dragging it around the fruit. You start to wonder if he bought the watermelon just to show you a party trick—not that you mind, though. The strain of his biceps peeks through his rolled up white tee, and you remember why he was able to stop you with just one look back when you first met.

"No way." The watermelon is so ripe, it bleeds around the incision. "I feel like I know everyone here. And I definitely would have remembered you."

"I was probably, like, two grades above you," he replies. "And my parents shipped me off to live with my cousins after elementary school. They said I should get out of Seogwipo and experience the real world."

"Good call. There's nothing here." You watch Mingyu spin the melon over to cut through the other side. The coin catches the sunlight, and it looks like gold. "I wish I left for university. The one here is so small."

"Really?" He pauses to show you his handiwork. The two melon halves roll over on their backs, their cut edge cruel and jagged. "Cool, huh?"

"Impressive," you say. "Honestly. I really didn't think that would work."

"I didn't either when I first saw someone do it. But I’ll try anything once," he replies, ripping open the packaging of the plastic spoon from the bag. "I can't believe you don't like it here."

"You do?"

"Yeah. A lot." He shoves the spoon in his mouth, and you watch the watermelon juice pool around his lips. "I missed home. The trees and the tall grass and the ocean. All the fruits. Everything. I learned to ride a bike, right down there by the water."

"Hm." He passes you the spoon. You don't want to hog it, so you carve out a piece bigger than you need. "Are you gonna work at the farm?"

"Maybe. Haven't decided yet," he says. "I think I want to be here, though. Maybe do something with food, but I want to be home."

"That's funny, because I think I’ve always wanted to live a different life. Or at least one somewhere else."

"You want to go to law school, right?"

"Yeah." Mingyu is right. The watermelon is all sugar, and you would almost feel guilty for eating it if it wasn't technically good for you. "I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. It's something about the people watching, I think."

"That’s really cool," Mingyu says, mouth full but no less sincere. It's then that you notice your shoulders are almost touching, and your heart crawls back up to your mouth. "You know what you want. I admire that."

He makes it sound like a compliment, but you're sure it's a curse.

You think of your parents. There's a permanent wrinkle ironed into their foreheads, the paper crease of expectations and high standards. It's not that they didn't care, but their kind of care was a humbled sort, made heavy by a hard life. It didn't help that your big sister Seohyun went straight from Yonsei to work a big tech job in San Francisco and never once looked back.

But you can't blame any of them—wanting has always been a hereditary failing. Sometimes Yizhuo will catch you frowning at nothing, and then you remember that life isn't a performance and every day ends at the same time no matter how hard you work. But you don't know how to tell her that the only thing you can do sometimes is want, because otherwise you wouldn't really have much at all.

It seems like the exact opposite of how Mingyu lives—everything about him seems to pass like the seasons. Maybe that's why you can't seem to get enough of each other.

"Thank you. Really." You dig the spoon into your half of the melon. There isn't much left. "You're way too nice to me."

"It’s not hard to be," he laughs. "Maybe you're just too hard on yourself."

You're losing track of the distance between the two of you. You can almost feel the heat playing off his skin.

"Maybe."

It's then, under the veil of summer, where you meet Mingyu's gaze and, finally, things seem close to simple.

All you know are his eyes, heavy with sun, and then the slow, slow move of his lips against yours. He tastes like August, long and sweet, and for once you know what it's like to not only want, but to have, and to have again.

The ocean sings on the horizon, and the watermelon bellies weep.

iii. adzuki beans (or, the blood of a headless taiyaki)

Mingyu eats taiyaki headfirst because he says it hurts less.

"That makes no sense," you tell him, your pinkies linked. You never really liked holding hands, but yours fits so perfectly in Mingyu's and there's some girlish, childlike shine to it when you watch his finger search for yours after just a moment separated.

"What do you mean."

He breaks your gaze to eye a red bean taiyaki, like an unwilling predator sizing up their prey. It's the lamest, most embarrassing iteration of National Geographic you've ever seen, and yet you cannot find any fiber within yourself not deeply in love with the lion.

Fall is a forgiving place for your relationship to settle. You're now a senior at university and he's started his gap year. Gap implies he's in the middle of something, but in true Mingyu fashion, he leaves it up to fate, or chance, or something not nearly as kind (whim).

"Taiyaki isn't alive. And why would you want to pretend it is? Eating gummy bears would become an extinction event."

"It kind of is." He holds out the tail end of the taiyaki, the pastry almost explicitly flayed open, in front of you to eat. "Why does the Haribo bear have a face? Why do the gummy bears live in a gummy forest?"

"Great, so now I can’t even enjoy gummy bears without feeling like a serial killer?"

You dig your pointer into his shoulders, broad from all the time he spends on the farm. To think that his hands, big and weathered, were made to pick berries (and now wrap around your pinky finger) is bruising, if not ridiculously funny.

"It's a crime of passion. Gummy passion. Prosecute that."

He kisses your cheek and your heart almost squeezes into two.

The terrible thing about being with Mingyu is how seemingly endless his affection is. Now he's feeding you in public and buying the two of you matching socks (cat and dog, to be exact), although you'll admit it's a little charming, even if the neighbors do gossip.

He's sweet, too sweet, and his kisses stick to the back of your throat.

But you can't be fooled. There's an unsaid violence to the way Mingyu loves. (The meticulous spiral of the peel he carves when you ask for him to cut you an apple. The grind, decisive and cruel, of a knife against a cutting board. A pair of canines against your neck, your jaw.)

Even now, he bites the head off another unwitting taiyaki before stuffing it back in the bag.

"We're still splitsing, right?" he says, with perhaps 1% of his mouth available for speaking and the other 99% murder machine.

Splits, he always says before you share food. You never had the heart to tell him that it's in the same family as mines or sharesies or takebacks—silly childhood relics, ones that no one uses anymore because they don't mean anything.

This time, you don't hear him because you're thinking about the law school fair you went to before Mingyu picked you up. The future is so close, it scares you. A year from now, what ground would you be standing on? Would it smell like this—the peat, the thread-spool fields, the balm of the ocean? Would you still have Mingyu's finger wrapped round yours?

"Have you decided if you're staying at the farm?" you ask.

"Not really." He uses the back of his hand to wipe off his chin. "If my sister decides to take over, I’m actually kinda thinking of going to pastry school instead of getting a masters."

Mingyu had been toying with the idea for some time after you had talked about it on the outlook. It started off as a joke (September; a galette), then a what if (October; green tea mochi), and now it sits at a kinda.

"Kinda?"

The word gathers speed in the pachinko machine of your mind. You never liked being a kinda person. For Mingyu, it seems like a luxury of a word, but for you, it's really just another thing to hide behind. Kinda talented, kinda ambitious, kinda just there. You're always one foot in, one foot out of something better.

"Yeah, kinda. Why?"

"I dunno. What if we both end up leaving?"

"Maybe. You still want to, right?"

You would be lying if you said you didn't—it's what you always wanted. Seogwipo has been a sun-rot, too-small crutch for you, but you would also be lying if you said you weren't terrified that you'd eventually come back, limping like some doomed Icarus, unable to truly make it in the real world.

Then you think of the pockmarked farmland beside your home, lacy with the fall harvest. Even now, you can trace the endless blue of the coastline all the way there, cut through all the maybes and just let the sound of the ocean fold you into sleep like you were a child again. You wonder if Seohyun, all the way on the other side of the world, ever misses it.

"I’m not sure," you say, because, as much as you don't like it, it's the only answer you have.

"It's ok. You'll figure it out. You always do." He squeezes your cheeks together between his thumb and index, laughing at how they pillow out underneath his fingers. "Screw pastry school. I could come with you. Who else would keep you fed?"

Mingyu's complete and unfounded belief in you makes you feel something close to betrayal. How could he say any of that? With what proof? Only someone like Mingyu would be able to hold the wrinkled fruit of your unremarkable life between his palms and see something better than that. Maybe it's because he grew up on a farm. Either that, or he already cares for you too much, too painfully.

Secrets are easy to keep when they look like yours. At least here, in the pit of your stomach, you can keep count, take attendance of them, all your tittering, small anxieties. Some days it feels like your ribs are pressing out, but it's better than cutting everything loose to spill out over what little you do have control over.

You can handle a little pressure. You have to.

What concerns you is the hand Mingyu's got across your chest. With one look, he just might gut you. A twist of the heart-knife, and all those carefully wound insides carved out in an instant—maybe he'd pity you, but worse than that, he'd likely be disappointed.

For you, expectation has always stood taller than shame, and the idea that he sees something past you makes you want to run away.

"I could be a house husband," he says as easily as ever. "You'll be off saving the world, arguing with whoever, and I'll be there to run you a bath afterwards."

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," you reply, binding up the strange, hollow feeling in your stomach with a laugh.

There's a scared little girl hiding inside you, and whether Mingyu sees her or not hurts the same. A spade is a spade. You can only pretend so long.

You look at the taiyaki floating in their wax paper bag, blinded and wrought open by the same grin that now peels you down, and you're not hungry anymore.

iv. winter pears (rotten, outside your parents' house)

Mingyu's family loves Christmas.

You think it's because of the pear trees they have in the front yard. They stand bravely before the house, all emerald ash and wisdom in the December freeze. Run your palms over the knobs and it's like you can see into a sleepy visage of simpler days past. (Below its heart, carved: 1982, the year the farm was bought. Along the tangle of the roots: gyu waz here, in an unsure, childish scrawl.)

Winter comes to the countryside crawling on its hands and knees. On days it doesn't snow, there's a mist, boggy and clingy. You've come to realize the cold is more of a threat than a promise, and so the pear trees still bear fruit; the silvery branches hang heavy, faithful.

The first day of December, Mingyu's parents had tasked the two of you with decorating the farmhouse, a duty you took very seriously. You wrapped Mingyu up in string lights and watched him blink in and out like your own personal firefly.

It wasn't until you watched the rafters, the barn doors, the joyous vault of the ceiling all glow, like a spectacular firework, that you finally started to understand why Mingyu was so into the holidays.

It was in the yellow blush of the string lights that you had your first pear from the tree, which Mingyu insisted was a holiday tradition. We make poached pears, he said, mid-bite. You simmer the pear in syrup until it gets so soft, you can cut into it with a fork. Just like butter.

That same night, he kissed you, mouth hot and trembling and tasting of honey, and pressed you against the bark so hard, you could feel the grit of its veins against your skin.

You think December became your favorite month, and pears your favorite fruit.

So much so, that for the entire month, you try to put away your worries about law school applications to celebrate with Mingyu and his family.

You learn his mom makes the best hot chocolate (a cinnamon stick and a dogged devotion to the whisk), and that Mingyu has no clue on God's green earth how to ice skate. (He careens right into your chest the first time. You spend the next hour with him attached to you like a backpack—he manages to find the most impractical ways to do anything, which you somehow admire the most). On Sundays, Yizhuo ditches her Seoul friends and instead accompanies you to the mall two towns over, where she watches you compare different ties and watches and collagen creams as you decide on gifts for his family. (Lilac is so last year, she'd say, stirring the straw of a watered-down milk tea.)

It's not until the weekend before Christmas when you realize just how serious things have gotten. Your feet understand the meander of the dirt path to the farmhouse, your bones the scent of the yellow-skinned apple, the faded wildflowers. Your palms crave the plush of the rug they have in front of the fireplace. Hell, you can't even eat soondubu without thinking of the kind Mingyu's dad makes, with extra anchovies and green onion.

You don't think about what this means. There are ten days left in December and love poured from a full cup never seems to run out.

"Please let me carry some of those," Mingyu wheedles. "Oh my god. I'm like the worst boyfriend in the world."

"No, you are not." you make your way up to his doorstep, taking care to one-two step over the stray roots of one of the pear trees. It's second nature to you by now. "The moment I hand you a box, you are gonna start trying to figure out what it is."

He harumphs and plucks the big one off the top anyway, the one he knows you can't reach. "I didn't even know you were getting us gifts. You didn't have to."

"It's the least I could do. Who shows up to a holiday dinner emptyhanded?" You stop at the front door. "And stop shaking it," you laugh, using the tip of your boot to nudge his shin.

"Okay. Okay," he says, saccharine, adoring, before grabbing the doorknob. "Ready? Are you nervous? You shouldn't be nervous, right? It's not fancy or anything, if you were worried about that."

And that's the thing that wedges itself between your ribs. Mingyu and his whole family are like this. They love and worry and love again; it presses deep into you, fills you, and overflows.

So here you are, standing in your nicest dress and balancing a stack of gifts you hope will amount to something, never enough but something, to repay the people who you feel have loved you more than you deserve. It's all you really have. You do your best, and yet you know when that door opens, it'll all be washed away in a high-tide flurry of hugs and laughter and the familiar press of Bobpul's wet nose against your leg. They're just those kinds of people—they would be just as happy if you didn't bring anything at all, and somehow that makes you feel even more guilty.

"No, no," you wave him off. "I’m fine. Excited."

When Mingyu opens the door, everything goes just as you expected. His sister takes your coat, your gifts are whisked away to the tree (Aji has already figured out which one is his), and his parents descend upon you in a choking swell of warmth and charity.

We baked some fresh bread for your parents (—Thank you so much, but you really shouldn't have.). You look so beautiful in that color (—No, no, you flatter me too much.). Mingyu better be taking good care of you (—He is. He really, really is.).

The kitchen is gauzy with cinnamon, anise. They must be making their famous poached pears, which Mingyu remarks on, just like clockwork.

Dinner passes the same way. It bubbles over with affection, and you feel swallowed by an impossible yearning. This—a full table and a hand to hold underneath it—did you deserve this? And could you keep it?

For an instant, you picture yourself, years later, at this same seat. Mingyu would be fussing over the rice cakes, his apron still gingham because it reminds him of the day you two met. His parents, grayer but no less happy, bickering over the shade of tinsel on the tree. And the dogs, coiled at your feet like they are now. The vision laps at your bones like you're a raft in a storm.

You're pulled back into the moment when Mingyu squeezes your hand, grounding and insistent. "Mom asked how school was going. I told her I think you're basically the smartest person I know, and I’m pretty sure you're getting into whatever law school you want."

Mingyu's parents laugh, and they cut through their pears.

"Oh, sorry," you say. "Um."

Clink. Knife meets flesh, meets porcelain. Your cheeks are hot. You wanted to talk about anything other than yourself tonight. Clink.

"The top programs are a reach, but it'd be nice." clink. "I just want to get in somewhere."

"They’re all so far away," Mingyu's mom remarks. "So grown up. Any school will be lucky to have you. You'll get into all of them."

Clink.

"Or maybe you can stay here." You watch the prongs of Mingyu's father's fork disappear into the pear. "Keep us old folk company."

"No, no, I think Mingyu should take notes and get off his lazy ass," his sister says, teasing. "Going back to the city will be good for him."

"So you can, what, burn down the kitchen again?" Mingyu grumbles, and the whole table seems to boil over with laughter.

"We’re kidding," his mom tells you. "No matter where you go, I’m sure you'll do great. We can even throw you a party at the end of the year. For graduating."

Clink. Clink.

There's a horrible uneasiness writhing around in your stomach. It's pear and syrup and clove and a blackness, an anxious, selfish one that sucks up all the generosity of the evening and turns it into shame.

Mingyu's mom is talking about throwing you a graduation party, something you didn't even think to do for yourself, and here you are, thinking about the shaking moment you open your rejection letters and the lonely path you'll draw on your way back home.

It's ok. They missed out, Mingyu would say, pouring you a consolation drink, and then it would be over. You'd go home and sit on your bed and the trifold piece of paper would go round and round your head like it was in a washing machine.

Your heart, an inventory of tasks and goals and tally marks. Things you've taken and things you've owed. It's a soft, boneless excuse. Be grateful. Give them that, at least.

Clink.

Dessert ends before you can tell his family not to get their hopes up. Mingyu's mom sends you off with your loaf of bread and a kiss on the cheek, and the moment is gone.

"Gyu," you call out on the steps in front of the house.

There are words at the seam of your lips. You want to tell him you're sorry for worrying so much. For making the whole dinner about you and then very possibly having nothing to show for it when it matters. For the heaviness in your chest. Your cowardice. But none of it comes out.

Instead you watch Mingyu pull at the leaves of a pear tree, watching the frost-filigree they get at the end of the season. He looks over his shoulder and smiles at you, as if he's on the hazy cover of a magazine. His eyes bend so wonderfully at the corners when he looks at you, and it breaks your heart.

"You had fun, right?" he asks. "My parents like you a lot, you know. I think they really do."

But that's the problem, you want to say. You all do, and I have no idea why.

Some of the pears are beginning to rot now. You watch one drop off the vine, and it caves to the pavement like it was made of nothing at all.

v. wild barley (grows like weeds)

In March, you play house.

Your parents leave on a two week trip to see relatives, and Mingyu takes it upon himself to make sure you survive.

It's a kind, blinding charade.

(7 am, breakfast. You usually don't even eat breakfast, but you wake up to doenjang and a smile, one that presses itself to yours until you're wearing it on the long walk to school.)

(4 pm, the stretch between lunch and dinner. You're muddling through another useless club meeting when Mingyu sends you a picture of him in your mom's apron, making kimchi. Kiss the chef, he texts you. You promise to, over and over and over.)

It's good until it isn't.

That isn't to say that it's Mingyu's fault. In fact, it's never really Mingyu's fault, and that's the worst thing about your relationship. Sometimes you wish he was worse just so there was someone else to blame.

(1 am, a fridge-cold glass of water and a hand on the column of your spine. Can't sleep? He asks. Just had a weird dream, you say.

It's a lie. You're a liar.

You miss your parents and the first wave of acceptance letters comes out in two days. You're not like him. Sleep has never been a cure for the exhaustion you're feeling, and you have no way of telling him that however warm the bed is won't fix that.)

It's on a Thursday afternoon when you open your mailbox and see the tiny, thin envelope that you've been expecting for the past week. You don't need to open it to know what it says, and yet you do it anyway.

The sun is white, a ghost in the spring sky. The ocean bleeds into the overcast, the curly barley stands tall around your feet, and you let the worst letter you've gotten in your life fall upon your shoulders, word by terrible word.

Then you close it, pinching the seam shut, and draw up your brave face. Nothing left to do but be brave. You're convinced you've used up all the sadness in your relationship—spend in pennies and the well still runs dry. Mingyu will cup your cheek and call you darling, pouring into your emptying basin, holey and broken.

You see him now through the kitchen window, Venus in his clamshell of a kitchen. Galbijjim day, he had said this morning. Now, he waves at you, glittery with recognition.

Your throat feels like crumpled paper.

Mingyu smiles at you, hazy through the glass. Your cheeks hurt and your mouth is paper mache, but you smile back anyway.

///

The letters come one after another.

You know what the envelopes hold and yet you keep opening them. The little folder you keep stashed in your bottom drawer gets fatter every passing day because you can't help but revisit your misery, almost as if you need to remind yourself it exists.

Mingyu is none the wiser. Today he decides he'll put off pastry school for one more year. "It doesn't feel like the right time," he says, rolling a log of burdock kimbap up. "You know what I mean?"

No, you don't. You never really do.

You do know, however, that it would feel really fucking bad that, come the end of the year, to have nothing. All your friends would be going somewhere—even Yizhuo opened her acceptance to an MFA program in Shanghai yesterday—and you would be here, still, feet firmly planted in the muddy Jeju dirt like they always had been.

"Hey, don't look so disappointed." he jokes. "Don't tell me you're already trying to get rid of me."

You're not, you really aren't. But part of you wonders if it's just a race to the bottom. If you got rid of him before he decided he wanted to get rid of you, maybe it would hurt a lot less. One less letter for the folder.

"Never. But imagine if you picked up a French accent at pastry school. Then I’d consider it. Maybe."

You watch his knife rock back and forth on the cutting board as he cuts the kimbap.

"Some for you. And more for me," he says, in what you can only describe as someone attempting to speak French when they've never heard it before. "Unless you want more, mon cherie."

He brings the plates to the table, his grin nothing short of dizzying.

"I’m irresistible, huh? Still wanna leave me now?"

"You're gonna have to try a little harder than that, I think."

The words roll off your tongue, easily, traitorously.

You watch the kimbap disappear off of Mingyu's plate.

Going, going, gone.

///

Seogwipo is always dark at night, only kept alive by the glow of the moonlit sea.

You can't sleep. Again. And so you sit out on the steps in front of your house, letting the twilight wrap around you like a blanket.

You got your last letter back earlier today. You held your breath and tore it open like you would a birthday card with money in it.

Waitlisted.

It was surely better than a rejection, but some naive, child-eyed part of you thought that if you had just closed your eyes and hoped hard enough, things would work out the way you had planned. Tragically, it wasn't enough this time. You wanted and wanted and you thought maybe that would mean you'd come close to deserving it.

Your parents called today. After managing to sideline the issue of basically the rest of your entire life, they had finally cut through your sad little charade. No good news yet, huh?

No, but—

It was always like that with you. No, but it's not as bad as you think. No, but give me a chance. No, but I’m trying. I've been trying.

You wish things didn't come out of you so complicated. That you could be like Seohyun, who could go through school with her eyes closed and still graduate at the top of her class. Instead, you parade around your little failures, trying to convince people it all could mean something only if they squinted. See? It isn't so bad.

You think you're past the point of crying about it. Your stomach hurts, you're cold, and most of all, you just want to go back to bed. Plus, although Mingyu sleeps like a log, you think he's developed a sixth sense for whenever you get up too early.

Time to be brave, you've been telling yourself, although you don't know who you're pretending for anymore.

So you nudge the front door open—it's so old, it wails if you come at it with any more force—and, to your surprise, see the light above the kitchen sink turned on.

It's not very bright, but it's enough to make out Mingyu's broad silhouette, back turned to you as he makes a cup of tea. He's humming one of his made-up songs.

"Mingyu?"

"There you are," he says, turning around. "Just came out to check on you. And make you some tea."

The kettle whizzes. Your gut twists.

You still haven't said anything to Mingyu. To manage your own disappointment was one thing—you don't think you could handle another person's. And yet when he stands there, Pororo mug between his huge hands, you feel as if you are holding a knife, big and guilty and bloody.

"I-I'm fine, Gyu. Honest." you watch his expression flicker, unreadable in the persimmon lamplight. "Sorry you had to come out. It's chilly out here."

"You know, you can tell me what's going on. I won't judge."

No, no, no. This is the last conversation you wanted to have, with the last person you wanted to have it with.

You feel feverish. You think your hands are shaking.

"Mingyu, I swear—"

"Whatever it is, we can fix it. I know we can."

That almost makes you want to laugh if you didn't want to cry so bad. Of fucking course he would say that. Mingyu, who treats life like it's the watermelon trick he showed you on the outlook, wants to put a bandaid on this whole thing, as if that could come close to fixing it.

He'd tell you to curl up on the couch with a bad movie while he orders takeout. Kiss you on the top of the head. It's ok, baby. Just another bad day for the person who has the worst luck in the world. Another lump of problems for him to try and make better. If he isn't sick of you now, he sure would be soon enough.

"It’s okay," you say, steeling your voice. "It really isn't a big deal. Let's just go back to sleep."

You try to walk away, but the hardness in Mingyu's eyes roots you down to the tile.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Pushing me away," he swallows. "Like you always do. I know something's going on."

"I’m not, i just—"

"You just what? You can't help it?"

"No, I—"

"Because you like to know that you can? That you can say whatever and then watch me come back?" A fragmented, heavy silence thrums between you. He's looking at you like he's daring you to say something, anything. His gaze is black. "What am I good for if you can't tell me anything?"

There's that familiar, stinging pressure behind your eyes. You think you're crying, but you're not sure. Maybe you've been crying this whole time.

"Fine," you bite. Your blood feels like hot metal. "You really wanna know? I didn't get into law school. There. Happy now?"

Mingyu looks stung.

"W-why didn't you tell me?"

Because I thought you would stop loving me. I thought you would have finally had enough.

"Because it's not all about you, Mingyu."

The words, selfish and damning, burn your tongue. Mingyu is right. This is what you always do. You fuck up and then make everyone else hurt for it.

"I'm sorry," Mingyu says. His voice doesn't sound like his. Instead, the words seem to hang in the air, trembling and holding their breath, waiting for an apology you can't give yet. "I shouldn't have—"

"It's ok." You swallow hard, and it hurts. "Let's just go back to bed."

It's getting colder and colder. You think there's a little hole in your sock, right above the cat's whiskers.

Mingyu doesn't reach for you as he passes to get to the hallway. Maybe he doesn't know how to anymore.

The Pororo cup is left abandoned on the counter. You walk over and read the label on the tea bag—barley, because you have class tomorrow morning.

You pick it up, let the ceramic buzz between your hands with whatever warmth it has left, and hold it to your lips.

It's cold now, but all you can think to do is drink it. Erase all the evidence that tonight ever happened, and maybe it'll be nothing more than a bad dream in the morning.

There's honey at the bottom of the cup. It sears the back of your throat, but you drink until there's nothing left.

vi. the peach blossoms (without fail, bloom every August. I miss you.)

You broke up the next day.

Even now, you remember what happened. You had woken up early that morning to make your own breakfast because you couldn't allow Mingyu to give you any more of himself. Your hands could only hold, shatter, so much.

"Mingyu, I think we should...." You looked at the zigzags of jam on your toast, angry and uneven. "I think we should stop seeing each other. For now," you had added, as if that made anything better at all.

Somehow that seemed more merciful at the time. Really, you think it just showed your cowardice. If you were going to break his heart, you might as well have gone all the way the first time.

Maybe it was a good thing that Mingyu saw right through you. He always did.

"So that's it, huh? You're just gonna give up on us?"

"No, I just...need some time."

"How long?" he asked. "Be honest with me. Because you know I’ll wait."

"I don't know." You couldn't meet his gaze. His eyes reached and reached over that kitchen table and you denied him even that.

"Don't you always know?" he asked, pitifully, desperately. "Don't you want this to work?"

And you did. In fact, you don't think you had ever wanted anything more, and it was that that scared you. You had already lost law school—you couldn't let the only other thing in your life let you go. So you pulled the trigger first.

"We should just end things. I'm sorry. I can't give you what you need."

He packed his bag within the hour, and you think everything, from then on, froze inside you. You didn't move from your seat until your parents came home from the airport later that day and asked why there were two plates of toast still on the table.

You think you knew, someplace, inevitably, this would happen. You, who only knew hunger, had reached deep inside Mingyu and rooted out a love you didn't think you were worthy of having. And yet you still ate from the vine, bite after guilty bite, until you couldn't take any more. The only time he asked you for anything at all, you couldn't give it to him—such was the irony of your relationship.

Maybe you were doomed the moment the first strawberry hit your tongue, just like you had said, all that time ago.

About a month later, you got another letter in the mail. Chungnam National University Law School, it read. This one was fat, in one of those brown envelopes lined with bubble wrap. Somehow, miraculously, that position on the waitlist had turned into an acceptance. You held the package to your chest and cried, loud and with abandon, as if taking a deep breath after almost drowning.

Ironically, the first person you wanted to tell was Mingyu. But the good news you needed to save your relationship came too little, too late. Perhaps that meant it had no legs to stand on in the first place, but that didn't stop you from missing it. Instead, you told Yizhuo, and she drove you to Jeju City and treated you to dinner. "You should just call him," she had said. "Hey, don't look at me like that. He'd probably pick up on the first ring."

The city is swathed in August's crimson summer—peach season. The narrow streets are lined with peach trees, the fruits glowing like fat drops of sunlight. All you do these days is plan for your eventual move to Daejeon and the start of a life that seems newer and shinier than your own. But surrounded by the cicada song, the velvet treeline, the rain-soaked asphalt, somehow you think you're going to miss Seogwipo more than you think.

(Fickle, fickle heart. You always needed things to be taken away to really be able to appreciate them. Somehow, all that wanting had boiled down to something more satisfying, more filling.)

You wonder how Mingyu is. Now that you think about it, he seems just as much a part of Seogwipo as the farm he lives on. It was only last summer when you had first met him in the field, set on fire by the strawberry harvest. You think about him now, peddling around that ridiculous wicker basket to make jam. Maybe talking to another pretty girl, someone as naive, cruel as you had been.

Not long ago, you considered calling him to apologize, but that'd just be another thing to be selfish about. A little time and some warm weather, and I’m calling to finally wash my hands of you. That's what it would sound like, no matter what you said. Still, it didn't stop you from thinking of him, every flower, every season.

"You know, I always wanted to grow peach trees. But I think we've always been a pear kind of family."

Mingyu. If a voice could cut through air, it'd be his.

You whip around, half-believing you're hearing things. Certainly that would be easier, but you're learning that there are some things you can't run from.

And like a picture, Mingyu stands tall, golden, framed by the peach blossoms. Not a thing about him has changed. Not even the way he looks at you.

"Mingyu," you breathe. Unfortunately, none of the times you replayed your last conversation with him help you come up with something to say, because in none of them did you anticipate him coming back. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I live here, silly."

"No way," you reply, scrambling. "Crazy, because I live here too."

You both laugh nervously, a silly, bubbly thing, but you feel like you're going to throw up. It's only now that you realize you're kind of on the walk to his place. Seogwipo has never had places to hide.

"I...um." You try and disentangle the guilt from the nostalgia from the scent of the peaches and the warmth on his face. They all look the same. You missed him. "I got into law school. In Daejeon."

"I heard," he says. "Not surprised at all. I always knew you would."

"Thank you. I mean it." The cicadas buzz around you, as if they know they have an important silence to fill. "You're staying in town, right?"

"Actually, I decided to apply to culinary school. It finally felt right, you know? I'm leaving at the end of the summer, but it's just in Jeju City. I couldn't leave the island."

"Thank goodness. I don't know if you could tell, but I kind of always hoped you would. I don't think I’ve ever eaten better food." Your voice wobbles, but it gets there. "You'll do amazing."

Then time stretches and forces you to recognize, reckon with, the moment you're in. You wonder if he feels the same way you do—bruised, overripe. If there's still a space in his heart for you.

Deep breath. Life only gives you so many chances.

"Mingyu, I’m sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't make us work. You deserved better." Saying it feels like peeling the skin of your heart back. There's still a palpable distance between the two of you—you think that had always been there—but it feels more comfortable in a way it never did before.

"Don’t apologize," he says, easily, as he always does. Everything seems to flow off him like water, and you think that's the part of him you loved the most because it was the one thing you couldn't touch. "We loved each other. I think that much was true."

A jasmine breeze curls through the trees, sending the blossoms fluttering around you like ink in water. The very first time you met Mingyu, you thought the image of him, haloed with the sunset, was the one you wanted to keep forever. And yet, somehow, you don't think you'll ever forget the way he looks right now.

"Will you ever come back to Seogwipo?" you ask.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing—you were always the one who wanted to get out of here." He grins, ear to ear. "Of course I'm coming back. There's nowhere I'd rather be."

"Yeah. I think I know what you mean."

The sea, the clay dirt, Mingyu. Even yourself, clumsy and care-worn. You think, somewhere along the line, you forgot how to love. But you're learning—one step at a time.

"Friends," you say. "Let's be friends. If you'll let me."

"Thought you would never ask. Gladly. Always." The space between you seizes, like it's holding in a breath. Maybe one day, you'll think of closing it once more, but you like where you stand now. You can admire him better from a distance, without your fingerprints all over him. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, something he does before he gets ready to leave. But before he does—"I'll see you soon, okay? You better come back. Promise me."

For the first time, you see the honesty in his eyes and you really, truly believe him.

"Promise."

The Seogwipo sun is high and red in the sky when you wave Mingyu goodbye. It feels like you're coming to an end of a long summer, but you're not afraid. You watch the wind dance through the peach blossoms, their branches never searching, never wanting, and you finally feel as if you've arrived home.

#literally on my hands and knees begging for the tags to work #mine #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu angst #seventeen angst #mingyu imagines

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headkiss · 8 months

Text

become the sun

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: figuring out how to move on from life in hawkins, steve takes a trip to the beach, where he meets you, who becomes his tour guide and maybe more than that.

word count: 14.5k

warnings: fluff, teeny bit of angst, strangers to friends to lovers, and some kisses!!!

a/n: hiiii i am so excited to finally have beach steve done for u guys!!! it’s inspired by true blue by boygenius (if u couldn’t tell by the title)!!! i put a lot into this one and i hope u like it <3

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The beach is an interesting place. It changes with the seasons, the population shrinking as the leaves fade from green to brown.

There’s the crowds that come through from the months of June to August, the people that occupy summer homes, the tourists stopping by, the sand stuck to skin, the coconut smell of sunscreen. It’s when everything is bright, saturated with sunlight and people.

And then, there’s winter. The cooler weather driving away the summertime residents, turning things into a quiet town where the locals all know each other. Snow falling on the beach in January, hands tucked into jacket pockets.

For Steve, it was exactly what he needed. A getaway, room to grow, something away from Hawkins where he felt stuck, still.

For you, the beach is home.

You’ve lived in True Beach your entire life, in one of its classic blue houses with white trimming and accents. You’ve watched the town grow, watched people come and go with the seasons.

The town sits on the east coast, tucked away and—when it isn’t in the heat of summer—small.

You’ve been working at the cafe for years, floating between positions. Baking in the back, ringing people through, cleaning tables. Mornings are spent in the cafe, then, when you’re off, you’re trying to soak up whatever summer has to offer.

Today, you’re heading out the door with your swimsuit on under a sundress, tote bag on your shoulder.

“Have a good one, sweetie!” Macy, your boss (more like a mother figure and friend by now) calls from the counter as the bell above the door jingles with your exit.

“Bye, Macy!”

The heat hits you as soon as you step out the door, your eyes squinting in the sun as you try to fish your sunglasses from your bag.

Your walk to the shore is easy, the steps nothing but muscle memory by now. You cross main street, head towards the path worn into the sand by foot traffic, over the small dunes until the sound of waves crashing onto sand hits your ears. It’s mixed with laughter, conversation, the sound of kids playing.

It’s pure summer.

Towel laid out, you settle in a spot a bit further from the shoreline, enough so that there isn’t anyone else sitting in close proximity to you.

Soon enough, you’ve got your dress pulled off and tossed into your bag, a layer of sunscreen applied, and a book in your hand. You’re laying on your stomach, propped on your elbows, ankles crossed. You’re so wrapped up in the words in front of you and the heat of the sun on your back that you don’t notice the boy setting his things nearby and jogging towards the water. Not until he comes back.

A droplet of water splashes your page, and you look to the side to find the culprit. Your heart stutters at what you see: a boy shaking out his wet hair the way a dog does, all clumsy and cute.

You’ve never seen him before. This boy with brown hair falling over his forehead, eyes crinkling in the sunlight, freckles in a constellation across his skin, a sunburn kissing the bridge of his nose and his cheeks. He’s pretty. You’re glad your sunglasses can hide the way your eyes trail down to his chest, the smattering of hair there, the sand that sticks to his damp skin.

In this part of True Beach, you know pretty much everyone. The locals, the people who stay for the summers, but not him. You’d remember him if you did.

“Good swim?” You speak up.

Steve’s head lifts, his eyes finding you easily, laying on your tummy, sun setting a glow across your skin. He scans you, the curve of your back, the book in your hands. You’re the first person who’s spoken to him so far in True Beach, and for a second, he thinks he might’ve dreamt it.

“Yeah,” he says. He wants to say more, ask your name, something, but the words seem stuck. “It’s beautiful here.”

“First time here?” You push yourself up to sit, book set on your towel, your hands propped behind you.

“First time anywhere, really.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, flickering across your face.

“I hope it’s a good one, then.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair, pushing it from his face, he slings his towel over his shoulder, “I do, too.”

With that, the boy picks up his bag and heads off, and you can’t help but watch him leave, the freckles that dot his back, the muscles that sit there, too. You hope that you’ll see him again.

You hope that maybe, maybe this summer will be different than the rest.

Steve’s staying in a condo down by the beach. A white building with scratched paint and faded accents of greens, yellows, and blues. He’s on the ground floor, his small patio a step away from the sand. Coral Condos, it’s called.

He’d found True Beach on a whim, staring at a map and waiting until something jumped out at him. This town did.

For Steve, Hawkins was becoming too much. A reminder of everything that’s ever happened to him, of things he doesn’t know he’ll ever accomplish. His friends were all moving on, moving away, and he was just there.

First it was Nancy and Jonathan going out of state for college, then it was Eddie moving to Indianapolis for his music. What hit him the hardest was when Robin was off to school, too. When he was working shifts in Family Video alone, with his thoughts and the hum of the TV.

He needed to get out, away from the house that served as a reminder of the absence of his parents. He needed the room to change, to let himself be known as who he is now and nobody else.

So he’s here, spending his summer in True Beach to try and figure things out.

Steve’s been worried about his decision, wondering if it was too much, if he was doing the right thing. Robin had reassured him plenty, but after being in a single town for pretty much his entire life, this trip seems bigger.

Then, you spoke a couple of words to him on the beach, and he thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Even with big sunglasses covering your eyes, there was a kindness there, the beauty of someone not having any preconceived notions about him. Here, King Steve doesn’t exist.

Not to mention that you spoke to him, sunlight bouncing off your skin, lips moving around your words in a way that caught him.

His walk back to his condo is full of replaying your short conversation, the small smile that had spread over your face. Why the hell didn’t he ask your name?

Steve hopes to see you again, to feel the way he did when you talked to him. Like a person, someone worth speaking to, someone without a reputation that follows him despite being long gone, someone he wants to be.

Yeah, he really hopes to see you again.

Soon enough, you’re back at the cafe, working your morning shift and glancing up every time the bell above the door jingles. You’d never admit it, not even to yourself, but you’re looking for someone specific. Looking for the boy from the beach.

It’s odd, the little spark of hope you get whenever the door opens. You don’t even know his name.

Instead of facing this strange pull you feel towards a total stranger, you try to focus on work. Your customer service smile, making coffees, bagging sweets. You’ve been doing it long enough that it’s all subconscious, a routine that’s easy to fall into.

Then, only an hour before your shift is meant to end, the boy walks in, hair messy on top of his head.

Unsure if he even remembers you, you try to act natural. “Good morning!”

Steve follows the sound of your voice, finding you at the counter by the register, welcoming smile on your face. He recognizes you right away. It’s the same face he’d seen on the beach, the one he’s thought about since.

“Hi,” he says, stepping up to the counter across from you. He glances down to your name tag, pinned to the strap of your canvas apron. It suits you, he thinks. “Makes more sense than ‘girl from the beach.’”

“Sorry?”

“Your name, I mean.” He shifts a little on his feet. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

Steve. A piece of him you won’t have to wonder about anymore. Today, Steve’s wearing a linen button up shirt, the first couple buttons undone, his chest hair peeking out.

“Well hi, Steve. Boy from the beach,” you smile softly, a shared memory floating between you. “What can I get for you?”

If he’s being honest, Steve had sort of forgotten what he came into the cafe for once he saw you standing behind the counter. He looks at the menu on the wall behind you, skimming over the words.

“Um,” he looks back at you, his indecisiveness written in a small wince on his face, “have any drink recommendations?”

“Coming right up.”

You turn to make his drink, the coffee machine whirring behind you, the sound of things brewing a constant background to your day. You pour some ice into a cup, and soon enough you’ve got his drink mixed and poured, too.

You grab a cup sleeve, scrawling a small message on it before you can overthink it, and then slip it onto the cup, turning back to the counter where Steve is waiting, hands tucked into his pockets.

He watched you bounce between things in the cafe, hands moving like it’s second nature to you.

“Here you go,” you say, setting the cup onto the counter.

“Thanks.” Steve picks it up, dropping a bill onto the counter with his other hand.

Again, he finds himself wanting to say more to you, to stretch out the conversation. Instead, he heads to a table in the corner of the cafe and takes a sip of what you’ve made him. Of course it’s good, he thinks. You don’t look like someone who would mess these things up.

Right when he’s about to set the cup back down, he notices the sharpie scrawled onto the sleeve, lettering angled and curved to fit in the empty space. It could only be your writing, the words sweet and simple.

‘Welcome to True Beach :)’

Steve smiles at his cup, at the hint of something friendly, something kind, in a place so new to him.

He really should talk to you more this time, he knows it. Because he regretted not doing it once and he doesn’t want to do it again. So, when he finishes his drink, he walks up to the counter all over again.

“You’re back,” you say, though he never really left. He’d been in the cafe the whole time, your eyes always finding their way back to him.

“Yeah,” he sets his now empty cup down on the counter gently, “can I get another?”

“You liked it?” You smile a little, feeling a zip of success, of some sort of accomplishment.

“I mean, it’s refill worthy, so,” he shrugs like the answer is obvious, shoulder to his sunburnt cheek.

You make him another, the same way you made the first, his eyes on your back, your hands working on autopilot. The recipes make themselves by now, written into your memory.

You still can't really believe Steve’s here, that the boy from the beach walked in when you’d been thinking about him since you spoke. You wonder if it’s some sort of sign, hands of fate pushing him into the cafe.

Either way, you decide to take a chance.

“So,” you hand him his drink, and he hands you another bill and refuses the change, “if you wanted to meet some people, there’s this bonfire tonight at the beach. You should come.”

“Really?” He checks, because there’s no way you’d invite him somewhere after such small conversations, right?

“Yeah, really,” I want you there, you’d say if you had the courage. “You can get to know a bit about True Beach. Being a newbie and all.”

So far in his stay, Steve hasn’t been inclined to seek things out. He’s been alright keeping to himself, going to bed early enough. Now, he’s thinking that it’d be good to get out, to meet people, to explore the way he told himself he would here.

Maybe to see you again, too.

“I’d like that,” he nods, a shy smile on his lips. “You’ll be there?”

In all honesty, you’ve yet to attend a bonfire this summer. You’ve never been a huge fan of them, really. But if he’s going, so will you.

“I’ll be there,” you confirm. “It’s down by the docks. Sort of hard to miss.”

“I’ll see you later then, girl from the beach.”

“Later,” you smile, and a mirrored expression spreads on Steve’s face. “Boy from the beach.”

He turns and leaves, the bell above the door ringing yet again with his exit. For once, you spend what remains of your shift eager for the day to pass, for it to be nighttime with a fire crackling nearby and the boy from the beach as company.

Steve doesn’t know what it is about you, doesn’t know how or why, but somehow, you’ve made him feel like he’s in the right place. Like leaving Hawkins wasn’t this big huge mistake the way he’d worried it would be.

He needed to get out, he knows that, and he’s done it, but he’s yet to move on. Maybe tonight could be a step towards that, a step towards new friends (though he’ll always have those from Hawkins), a new environment, a new beginning.

He thinks about it all on his walk back to the condo. His past, what could be his future. He doesn’t know what it looks like, and maybe he never will, but he knows that the sun warming his skin and the salt in the air is something he could get used to. Something he could love, if he could just let himself.

And when Steve eventually throws away his cafe cup, he makes sure to keep the sleeve with your handwriting on it. A souvenir as good as any.

Maybe a sign, too. A promise of some sort.

Your hands are covered by the sleeves of your sweater as you walk over to the bonfire, bright orange casting a glow over the sand, the warmth of the flames hitting you as you draw nearer.

It’s early enough that hints of the sun remain in the sky, a stripe of orange on the horizon, fading into blue as you look up. It’s a really nice night, the stars and moon bright above you, the breeze still warm enough to wear shorts. Even so, you can’t help but be nervous.

You haven’t been to one of the bonfires in a long time, and though you see these people often in town, it’s never like this. Never all at once.

Plus, there’s Steve. You hadn’t told him a time, but he said he’d come and despite barely knowing him, he seems like the kind of guy who means what he says. The anticipation is what gets you. What you’ll say when you see him, how to act.

You’ve never wanted to get to know someone the way you do with him, the instant sense that he’s a person you’d like to have in your life, and that’s intimidating in itself.

“Look who decided to show up!” It’s Steph’s voice, your longtime friend, forever neighbor.

“Hey,” you give her a small smile, happy to see her and apologetic all at once. “Sorry it’s been so long.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she tosses an arm around your neck, “come on!”

Steph guides you to the group standing around the fire, people you’ve known forever, people who cheer at your appearance (though the enthusiasm is hugely influenced by their various states of being drunk).

It’s Mason who works at the record store, Vic that busses tables in the diner like no other. It’s everyone who makes True Beach what it is and you’re glad to be a part of it, even if your mind continues to drift elsewhere.

You keep looking towards the path that leads to the beach, hoping to see a silhouette coming through, the boy from the beach. Steve.

It’s unusual, the way you wait for him to show up. It’s been a long, long time since you’ve had this sort of eagerness, the excitement of meeting someone new, of feeling this pull.

Steph seems to notice your eyes drifting again during your conversation, and she’s quick to ask, “what’s over there?”

“Huh?” You look back at her face, and you don’t exactly love the accusing look on her face.

“You keep looking at the path,” then, she gasps, like she’s discovered something amazing, “are you waiting for someone?”

“What? No.” You shake your head when she nudges her shoulder into yours. “Just thought I saw something.”

“Sure you did, babe.”

All you can do is shake your head again. She’s already gotten the idea in her head, you won’t be getting it out. Besides, even if you won’t say so, she is right, after all.

The night continues on this way, your eyes constantly flicking towards the path, thinking that the person arriving is Steve. It never is, though.

Your hope is shrinking smaller and smaller as the time goes by, thirty minutes, an hour, another hour. Still no sign of him. You’ve only just met, and yet, the disappointment strikes you hard, a sinking in your gut, a thump in your chest. You really thought he’d come.

You shouldn’t be surprised, you think. Or upset, really. You’re a total stranger inviting him to a beach at night, you’ve probably scared him off, freaked him out.

Eventually, you find yourself sitting in the sand by yourself, everyone wrapped up in conversations, laughter ringing behind you.

You stare at the waves, the steady rise and crash onto the shore. You stare and stare and stare until you figure it’s too late now, Steve’s not coming, and you should just go.

So, with an embarrassing lump in your throat, you stand and dust off the back of your shorts and head towards the path, glad that nobody notices your departure, that you're able to force away the tears that have no business being there in the first place.

Where he is, Steve blinks his eyes open gradually, waking up to a dark condo and a kink in his neck. After a day in the sun, he’d accidentally crashed on the couch, falling asleep with the hum of the TV in the background.

At first, he’s just confused, disoriented as he checks the clock and sees the time. 12:26 AM. Then, it hits him. The bonfire, the ‘see you later,’ you.

Fuck.

He scrambles to get up, shoving on his shoes and heading out the door without a thought about how he must look right now. His hair a total mess from being pushed against the couch cushions, his eyes bleary from sleep. That’s not what matters.

Steve’s basically sprinting to the beach, running until he sees the docks, sees the fire still burning nearby. There are still people, too. Maybe I can save this, he thinks, maybe she’s here and I’ll explain and we’ll just laugh about it.

You’re the first person he’s really spoken to here, the first one to make him feel like True Beach was a good idea, and he’d be a fucking idiot to lose the whisper of a friendship before it’s gotten the chance to form. A total fucking idiot.

Breathing heavily from his rush to get here, Steve walks over to the first person he sees, a girl with a can in her hand, her hair in braids that have become loose with time.

“Hey, sorry,” he says, getting her attention.

Steph’s the one he’s addressing, though he has no idea who she is. She turns towards him and smiles politely, because she’s got no idea who he is, either.

“Hm?” She hums.

Steve says your name, the name that’s been in his head since he’d read it on your apron. “Have you seen her?”

“Oh! You’re the one she must’ve been waiting for.” Steph looks around, her eyebrows scrunching, “ummm, she was here. Guess she left.”

You’re the one she must’ve been waiting for, she was here, guess she left.

Steve’s stomach drops. You’d been waiting for him, and he’d practically stood you up like an asshole. Sure, he was asleep and it was unintentional, but you don’t know that, and he feels awful. The things you must’ve been thinking, how you felt.

He feels like the biggest jerk ever.

Steve forces a smile, though he’s sure it’s an awful facade. “Okay, thanks anyway.”

With that, he turns away from Steph and heads back towards the path, his head down, shoulders a little slumped because this isn’t how things were supposed to go.

He was supposed to show up, to talk to you and learn more than your name or where you work, to plant the seed of something between you. Friendship, maybe. More, if he’d been lucky.

“Hey,” Steph calls before Steve gets too far. He turns around. “She’s got a shift tomorrow. Seven AM.”

He nods, and heads off again. He’ll fix this. Somehow, he’s going to fix this and it’ll work. It has to, he thinks, because he needs to know you.

Steve barely sleeps that night. For one, there was the nap that was long enough, and then—of course—there’s you. He spent hours laying on his back, watching the ceiling fan whirl above him, trying to figure out what to say.

In the end, he scraps every idea he has and decides to wing it the best he can. Not a great plan, but it’s all he has, so it’ll have to be enough.

Your friend said you started at seven, so Steve shows up at the cafe at exactly 7:02 AM. He's got mismatched socks on his feet, sandals on top of those. He’s sure his eyes are puffy, too, the lack of sleep evident on his face.

Despite that, he opens the cafe door, the bell ringing above his head. He spots you right away, leaning over a table, wiping it down with the towel in your hand, your walkman clipped onto the pocket of your apron, headphones on your head.

There’s someone else at the counter this time, an older woman with crinkles by her eyes and a kind smile. But, Steve came here to see you, so he heads over to the table you’re cleaning.

You can’t hear him coming, you only catch him walking over in your peripheral, his hands shoved in his pockets. You straighten, leaving the towel on the table and pausing your music, pushing your headphones down to rest around your neck.

“Steve. Hi.” You’re sure the surprise is in your voice. You really hadn’t been expecting to see him again.

“I’m so sorry about last night,” is what he says, needing to get it out, unsure of how else to start.

He surprises you a second time, his words are written on his face, the sleepiness in his eyes, the tiny frown on his mouth, the worried scrunch in his brows. It’s impossible to deny his sincerity.

“Oh.” You twist your fingers in the wire of your headphones. “It’s totally fine, you don’t have to apologize to me.”

“No, I do.” Steve pulls his hands from his pockets, and they move as he speaks, like he can’t help it. “Listen, it’s gonna sound made up, but I swear to you, it’s not. I fell asleep.”

“Steve-”

“I did. I got back from the beach and I fell asleep. As soon as I woke up I went to the bonfire, but you’d already left. I’m sorry for making you wait like that.”

You were never angry or upset with him to begin with. It was more towards yourself, the disappointment. You’d built up an expectation of him, of the night, in your head, and it’s your own fault. Still, the explanation has your chest feeling lighter.

“It’s okay, Steve. I mean, I’m a total stranger inviting you to this thing. It’s weird.”

“It’s not! It’s not weird, I promise.” He’s quiet for a second, then, his voice softer than before, he says, “I really did wanna go.”

You’re not sure what it is that gets you, maybe the way his brown eyes seem to melt a little, or the way his voice slows with the last few words, like he really wants you to hear them, but either way, any lingering negativity of the night before seems to fade away.

“You didn’t miss much, really.” You lean your hands behind you on the table. “Just a bunch of people getting drunk and slipping around in the sand.”

“I’m still sorry I didn’t go. I told you I would.”

“Steve, seriously, it’s okay.”

“Thanks for, you know, letting me explain.”

“Stop worrying about it, ‘kay? We’re good.”

Steve wonders if there’s a reason this place jumped out at him when he’d read the name. If some sort of divine intervention led him to True Beach. Because he’d found you here, and though you’ve only spoken a couple of times, he knows that people like you are rare. The sort of kindness that feels refreshing, the easiness of being around you.

He wants more of it, wants to know if maybe there’s a reason he feels like he was meant to meet you.

“I do want to know True Beach,” he says, “being a newbie and all.”

Your words from the day before coming from him make you smile. The thought that he’d remembered what you said well enough to repeat it back. Not everyone listens like that.

“I could show you around, if you wanted? You know, the best spots, the good food.”

“You’d do that?”

“Yeah! It’s an excuse for me to do more than just be lazy on the beach. Plus, It’d be fun.”

He smiles, this time it’s not hidden or pushed back, it’s a beam of light, sunshine peeking out from behind a cloud. “I’ll take you up on it, then.”

You smile, too. “I’m off at one, if you wanna meet back here?”

“Yeah, yes, that’s great. I’ll be here.”

Steven turns to go, but you call out, “don’t fall asleep this time!”

He faces you again, heads towards the front counter saying, “maybe I should get a coffee. Just to be safe.”

You shake your head with a grin, one that stays on your face even when you turn away and continue to wipe down the tables. Not even 8 o’clock in the morning and it feels like a good day.

Macy’s the one who served Steve his coffee this time, and once he leaves, the cafe now mostly empty, she walks over and leans a hip against the table, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyebrows raised at you.

“So, who was that?”

“His name is Steve.”

“Steve, hm? He’s a cutie.”

“Macy! He’s only here for the summer. And we only just met, alright? It’s nothing.”

Somehow, her eyebrows go even higher, the look on her face one you always get when she knows something. Or, when she thinks she knows something.

“Okay, okay. But I saw your smile just now.” She pokes your cheek, “I know you, sweetie. That wasn’t nothing.”

“I’m just gonna show him around. He’s new here, that’s it, I swear.”

She holds her hands up, “fine, but I will be saying ‘I told you so’ if that changes.”

“I’d expect nothing less, Macy.”

Macy likes to try and play matchmaker with you often, but her tone is usually much more joking than it is now. Though it’s still light, still teasing, it’s different. You wonder if maybe she was seeing something you couldn’t, something you didn’t want to see.

You don’t know this boy, not really. You know he has a way of saying things that make them feel true, that he has the softest eyes you’ve ever seen, that he’s able to pull smiles from you without even trying.

No, you don’t know him, but maybe you could. Starting today.

This time, Steve doesn’t leave you wondering. He shows up five minutes before your shift is set to end, and Macy, noticing him walking into the cafe, leans over to you, “looks like your boy is back, sweetie. Go ahead and get out of here.”

You shake your head and let it slide, knowing that she’ll believe whatever she wants no matter how much you fight her on it. You lean your head on her shoulder long enough to say: “thanks, Mace.”

Then, you’re heading out, tugging the bow on the back of your apron loose and slipping it over your head to hang it up on its hook on your way to the back room where you grab your bag. You pause at the mirror by the employee cubbies, smoothing back some baby hairs and brushing stray coffee grinds from your cheeks.

Steve stands to the side of the entrance, somehow looking more sun kissed than he’d been this morning, and he waves when he spots you walking towards him. “My tour guide.”

“That would be me.” There’s a small smile on your face already. There always seems to be one when you talk to him. “You ready to go?”

He moves to open the door, gesturing with his free hand, “lead the way.”

The summer heat hits you as soon as you walk through the door, the sun shining on the side of your face. You twist your head away from the sun and towards Steve, who’s fallen into step beside you, his strides matching yours.

“I thought we’d stay downtown, show you the shops and stuff.” Steve looks at you as you speak, even with the sun making him squint. “Sound okay?”

“Sounds perfect. I trust you.”

He steps around you, tugging your wrist gently to place you on the inside of the sidewalk, and himself closest to the road. It’s a small thing, one that could easily be meaningless, but your heart stutters the slightest bit, your steps slowing before forcing yourself to keep up with him.

The walk is short, filled with small talk that doesn’t feel forced or exhausting. It feels natural, the kind of ‘how are you?’ you get from a friend rather than a stranger. And you suppose he isn’t a stranger, you know just enough for him to be more than that.

Your hands brush between you, knuckles skimming against each other just once. A spark zipping up your arm, the same electricity traveling in his, too.

You ignore it (try to, at least), and before long, you’re at your first destination of the day. You stop walking, turning towards the awning of the store, “here we are.”

Steve stops with you, his eyes set on your face as you gesture towards the building. He looks away when you catch him, looking up at the sign hung above the door, a wave that fades into music notes, the words ‘Splash Records’ layered on top of that.

Now, it’s you who’s looking at his face, looking for a reaction. “It’s a gem, I swear.”

He turns to you again, his eyes, lighter in the sun, set on yours, “like I said, I trust you.”

“Okay,” you open the door for him this time, light blue paint flaking onto your hand when you twist the knob, “after you.”

Walking in, the record store is packed, but not in a way that feels stuffy. It’s full, music streaming through the store’s speakers, surrounding the space. There’s crates of records set on tables in the middle, shelves of them lining the walls.

Then, straight ahead from the door at the back, there’s the counter, the register sitting atop it, a record spinning behind it.

You wave to the boy standing there, “hey, Mason!”

Mason waves back, smiling at you, “hey! Need help finding anything?”

“We’re only browsing. Thanks, though.”

“No problem, cafe. You let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

The local workers in True Beach have developed this habit of calling each other by their jobs, hence why you’re ‘cafe.’ It’s silly, and you’re all well aware of everyone’s actual names, but it started and stuck ever since.

“Sure will, record store.”

Steve, for some reason, has this dull, punched-in-the-gut kind of feeling. He shouldn’t, he really, really shouldn't, but he does. Seeing the boy smile at you, seeing you share an inside joke.

And then, you’re wrapping a hand around his wrist so softly and leading him into the store and the ache is gone, replaced with this warmth. Warmth that blooms and grows into his chest.

“So, Steve, beach boy, what kind of music do you like?”

Just like that, the ache is forgotten.

“Take a guess,” he says.

You walk towards one of the crates at the front of a table, the letter A attached to the front. He follows, watches you flick through the records.

“Hmmm,” you stop and tug one out, facing Steve and holding up ABBA’s Arrival. “This one.”

“Come on!” He laughs, mostly because you’re right, and you seem to know it.

“You’re totally a ‘Dancing Queen’ kind of guy.”

He shrugs, a closed-mouth smile with mischief laced behind it, and turns to a different crate. And then, ever so softly, he starts humming the tune to ‘Dancing Queen.’

You smack his arm lightly, jaw dropped, soon spreading into a grin of victory. “I knew it!”

You continue on with your guesses, Steve following behind you with a sort of brightness in his eyes. He feels like you’re showing him more with each minute you spend together, your personality shining through with every smile or laugh he’s lucky enough to get from you.

The next album you pull is by Wham! and Steve huffs a laugh and shakes his head, “you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“I’m right again, aren’t I?”

“No comment.”

“I’m so good at this.”

By the end of it, you’ve added a-ha and Tears for Fears to the pile, and though Steve will end up buying every single one, he looks at the stack in your arms and sighs.

“Have you been stalking me?” He asks, because you’ve yet to be wrong with your selections.

“Yeah, right. You wish,” you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, fumbling a little with the records in your hands. “I am just really, really skilled. Plus, you just give off the energy for it.”

“You aren’t making me seem very manly, you know?”

“Who said anything about manly?” Your eyes are kind, Steve thinks they sort of sparkle when you say, “good music is good music. Who cares what it says about you?”

He’d been joking, of course he had, because you’ve been right all along and he sort of stopped worrying about music taste when he started hanging out with Robin, who’s favorite genre is musical soundtracks, and Eddie, who never stopped liking what he did no matter what Hawkins thought of him.

And then, he thinks, Eddie would like you. Would like the way you spoke about music.

Steve’s not sure what to say, not sure how to thank you without sounding like a total idiot. But he doesn’t have to, because you speak before he can, like you’d known he needed you to. “Anyways, you ready for our next destination?”

“I’ll go wherever you go.” The words are soft, and they feel like so much more than simple when he says them. They aren’t more, you know that, but they sound like they could be. “You’re the tour guide.”

Steve buys the records, and with the bag in his hand, he follows you out the door and walks beside you—again, closest to the street—without question.

A couple of stops later (one being the sunglasses shop, where you and Steve handed each other pairs to try on, giggling behind hands, posing into the mirror of the other person’s lenses) you’re leading Steve into the diner on main. It’s classic, vinyl seating, checkered floors, the light blue of the shallow parts of the ocean serving as the pop of color in the place.

You grab a booth, Steve sliding in across from you. It’s by the window, a street of sandals smacking the ground, towels slung over shoulders, and beach bags covered in sand on the other side of it.

It doesn’t take long before a familiar face strolls up to your table, and you give her a little wave as she walks up, “hey, Vic! Busy today?”

“I’ve seen worse, cafe.” Her eyes flick over to Steve, her eyebrows raising when she looks at you again. “And who’s your friend?”

“This is Steve, he’s staying for the summer and roped me into being his tour guide.”

“Hey,” he says, an awkward, but always kind, smile on his face.

“Well, welcome to True Beach.” Vic pulls out her notepad and pen from her pocket. “What can I get you?”

You both order, and Steve listens to you chat with Vic some more, the interest you show in what she tells you, the way you pay attention to her story about a strange customer. He thinks about the way you’ve greeted every shop employee so far today by name, the way they all greet you with the same recognition.

He thinks about how nice it must be to be a part of something like that, a steady unit in a town that sees different faces constantly.

“Sorry about that,” you say to Steve after Vic walks away. “She likes to tell stories.”

“Don’t be. I was eavesdropping, anyway.”

You laugh, quick and sunny, and Steve soaks it up, letting it warm him up. He’s sort of captivated by you, the way you move, the things you say, the way he feels around you. It’s something totally new to him, no matter his history with girls. This is on its own, special and rare, he thinks. Or, maybe, he wishes.

“So, Steve…”

He fills in the blank. “Harrington.”

“Steve Harrington. What brings you to True Beach?”

“Ummm. Vacation?” Steve asks rather than says, because he really doesn’t have an answer. At least, not one that he thinks makes any sense. Self-discovery? Escape? Didn’t want to be the last of his friends stuck in Hawkins?

All of the above, maybe.

“No!” Your foot nudges his under the table. “I mean, like, really. What’s your story? What led you right here?”

Steve likes the way you say what you mean, how you don’t seem to be afraid to ask something more personal. The list of things he likes about you seems to keep growing.

“I grew up in Hawkins, Indiana. Small town, been there my whole life. I was sort of an ass in high school. Hanging around with the wrong people, you know?” He scratches at the hair at the base of his neck, nervous. Less so when he sees your gentle smile and nod. “Anyway, then I met better people. My best friend, Robin, this dork Eddie, and these kids that I care about a lot. Sort of became their babysitter—minus the pay—and, yeah.”

You notice the way he lightens up when he talks about these people, the whisper of a smile on his face as he does. It makes you smile, too, knowing that he has people like that. People that can ease him with a simple memory.

“My parents were never really around. Work trips all the time, stuff like that, but it forced me to learn a lot. I worked at this movie rental place for a few years, and then all my friends were moving on, going to school, taking control of their lives. I figured I’d do the same.”

“That’s why you’re here?”

“Hm?”

“To move on. Take control of your life.”

“I guess so. I wanted to go somewhere. I’ve never ventured out-of-state until now. Saw the town on a map and that was it.”

“I think that’s really cool.” You reach across the table and squeeze Steve’s hand, his eyes flicking up from his lap when you do. “It takes a lot of bravery to come somewhere new, especially alone.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Steve’s quick to brush things off. He didn’t grow up being called things like brave, and though the expression on your face is clearly honest, it’s hard to accept a compliment. Doesn’t mean his heart doesn’t expand a little, though. Like an extra puff of air blown into a balloon.

“Don’t fight me on this, Steve Harrington.”

He’s not sure he could fight you on most things. He’d rather let you win.

“Alright, fine. What’s your story, then?”

“You sure you wanna hear it? It’s pretty boring.”

I want to know everything about you, Steve thinks. He won’t say it, though, won’t risk freaking you out when this has only just begun.

“You got mine. It’s only fair.”

It’s been a long time since you’ve met someone new, since you’ve had to do the whole getting to know each other thing. Usually, it’s awkward for you, the stress of good impressions. Now, with him, it’s easier for some reason. It feels like you’ve known him far longer than a few days. There’s a familiarity there.

“Okay, okay. My family moved here when I was like five, so it’s pretty much all I remember. We’ve lived in the same house since, blue shutters and chipped paint, but I love it. It’s home.”

You don’t feel very different from how you feel now when you think of home. Comfortable, at ease, like you’re not meant to be anywhere else.

Steve Harrington. You’re glad he chose True Beach.

“I started working at the cafe when I was sixteen, I think,” you continue. “Macy—that’s my boss, but she’s more like family—she gave me the job and I just never left. She wants me to take over one day.”

“Will you take over?”

“I love that place. I don’t really see myself anywhere else,” you shrug, hands fiddling with the napkin in front of you. It’s something not everyone approves of, like you’re wasting away there. “I know it’s not all that impressive.”

“Hey, if you love it, isn’t that what matters?” The toe of his shoe pushes yours gently, your eyes catching his. “Not everybody gets to say they love what they do. And you do. I think that’s impressive.”

“Really?”

“Really. I think it’s great, honey.”

Steve lets the name slip, but when he sees the bashful smile on your face, the way you duck down a little, he can’t bring himself to feel bad about it.

Honey.

If you didn’t have a crush already, you’re absolutely done for now.

Day by day, you and Steve grow closer, and you’re now far more comfortable calling each other a friend rather than a stranger.

You show him a little bit more of the town each day, and a little bit more of yourself, too. He does the same, and you’ve found that Steve is an easy person to talk to, to trust. It’s a friendship born over rented bicycles and hands-free riding down a hill, brunch at the cafe during your breaks, and Steve lending you his baseball cap when you forget your own.

It feels completely natural, like you’ve known him a lifetime rather than a week. It feels like something you didn’t know had been missing.

Steve doesn’t feel much different. There’s a little bit of guilt in him, because he’s never felt this way while in Hawkins; like he belonged. He loves his friends, and that had nothing to do with them, but it sat with him nonetheless. A weight on his chest.

The weight seems to be forgotten when he’s with you, when you’re smiling at him as you show him your home like you’re welcoming him, like he could stay. It’s when he’s alone that he thinks about what this could mean, what he should do.

Right now, though, he isn’t alone, so there’s no heaviness there.

You’re taking him to a ‘super great surprise location,’ as you’d called it, your sandals leaving patterns in the sand, the sun bouncing off your bare shoulders. Steve walks the slightest bit behind you, not far enough that you can’t talk to each other, but enough so that you’re definitely leading the way.

Steve’s honestly too distracted to pick up on where you’re headed. The curve of your spine, the way your hair seems to change color under the sun, the pattern of your strides. It isn’t until you tilt your head and point upwards that he catches on.

He lets his head fall back to match yours, looking up at the lighthouse that sits on a rocky part of the beach.

“The lighthouse?” He checks, “Isn’t that, like, against the rules?”

“Aw, Stevie, since when do you care about the rules?” That’s something you’ve been doing lately, calling him Stevie. He likes it more than he should. “Besides, I won’t let us get caught. Don’t you trust me?”

You’re facing him now, walking backwards, a smile full of mischief on your face. Steve can’t help but be honest, “yeah, I trust you.”

“Well then, let’s get climbing, Harrington.”

You don’t have to tell him again. Steve follows you without another question, like it’s really that simple. He follows you up and up the lighthouse until you’ve made it to the top, out on the metal balcony that overlooks the beach, the water.

You sit down, legs dangling over the edge, arms leaning on the bottom part of the railing. And though Steves not fearless by any means, he sits beside you, position mirroring yours.

“You bring all your tourists up here?” Steve teases, his knee brushing yours.

Vulnerability is scary, and you don’t usually share much about yourself with people, preferring to keep your cards close, but things are different with Steve. It’s scary and incredible all at once. He’s different.

So, you reply seriously, your voice quieter, “I’ve actually never brought anyone up here.”

Steve looks away from the view to look at you, your confession unexpected but welcomed. Like he’s thought since he’d met you, he really wants to know you. Every single thing.

“Really?” He asks, gently poking for more.

“Yeah,” you nod, your eyes focused on the way the waves look from up here, the shades of blue. It’s less scary to talk this way, without looking at Steve and his eyes that you just fall into.

“I always come up here alone,” you continue. “To think, mostly. Like, when things feel really big and awful, coming up here and seeing how small everything is helps. I kinda find comfort in the insignificance, you know? Nothing I do will ever really be that big of a deal, and that’s peaceful, I think. Does that make any sense?”

He finds he can’t look away from you right now, the sad—maybe even nervous—twist of your mouth, your hair messy from the wind. He wonders if he should tell you that he doesn’t think you’re insignificant at all. At least not to him.

“It does,” Steve says, blinking away from you and turning to look at the water, too. “I think that’s part of why I came here. It’s nice to be unknown, to not have to worry about every move I make because of how people will react. Things feel a little lighter.”

You nod, looking down at where your legs touch, your feet hanging over the edge of the balcony. You hadn’t meant to get so serious. Tour guides should be fun, right? So, you add, “the view’s nice, too.”

The sun’s setting now, the sky becoming a blend of pinks and oranges, the rays on your skin turning golden. Still, Steve finds himself looking at you again when he says, “yeah, it is.”

You turn your head at his tone, the gentleness of it. Your eyes find his, the brown almost bronze in the sun, the color melting and swirling and you can’t break eye contact. He’s reeled you in like nobody has before, like he’s been on the opposite end of a string that ties you together, and he’s the only one who could pull it.

“I’m really glad you picked True Beach.”

Steve’s gaze flicks to your mouth, then your eyes, and your mouth again. “I am, too, honey.”

Then, you’re closer to each other, your shoulders leaning together, the warmth of his arm pressed against your own.

You aren’t sure who leans in first, and neither is Steve, all you know is his nose nudges yours, and when you tilt your head in response, you’re kissing. First, a tender press of his lips on yours, and that’s all. But it isn’t enough.

Subconsciously, without a thought, you chase his mouth when he pulls away ever so slightly, and it’s all he needs before he’s kissing you again. Before he’s really kissing you.

Steve’s hand finds your cheek, gently tilting your face for him so he can kiss you the way he wants to. He’s not sure what he’d been thinking before this, all he knows is that this feels too good to stop, too good to be the wrong thing to do.

Your hand is hooked in the neckline of his shirt, knuckles brushing his bare skin beneath it, keeping him close. The other rests on the balcony between you, holding you up, letting you lean towards him.

You haven’t been kissed many times, but you know that for it to feel like this is a rare thing, something delicate that you won’t look into just yet. Right now, this is enough. The sparks that seem to fly around you, burning through you.

Even when you do pull away, nothing feels broken. No, Steve simply uses the hand on your cheek to guide your head to his shoulder, and it’s comfortable, your cheek squished against him, his hand grabbing yours from his collar and holding it in his lap.

You stay that way for what could be minutes or hours. As if you’ve been just like this hundreds of times before.

Steve offered—more like decided, really—to walk you home from the lighthouse, the sun sinking lower and lower with every step. You took the long way, sand beneath your feet, breeze growing cooler against your cheeks.

Neither of you have said anything about the kiss, and you haven’t felt the need to. If anything, it feels natural, like this pink haze brought on by the kiss is meant to be there; there’s nothing to be said.

Maybe that’ll change tomorrow, but it’s today and that’s what matters.

At some point during the walk, after knuckles brushing and sparks fizzling between them, Steve had wrapped his pinky around yours, which then turned into holding hands, fingers intertwined, palms pressed together. The warmth of it spread up your arm, a tide rising up and up and up.

It’s dark by the time your house comes into view, weathered paint and blue accents, the porch light glowing warmly in the night. That’s another thing about True Beach: porch lights stay on.

You stop at the end of your driveway, swinging your hands between you. “This is me.”

“Well,” Steve’s fingers flex in yours, his thumb running over your knuckles just once. “Thanks for showing me your spot, honey.”

You look down at your hands, smiling at the way he says it. Honey. Like you’re as sweet as the real thing, like he really believes that.

“Thanks for trusting me to take you there.”

“It was a good one. How you gonna top it next time?”

“I don’t like to reveal my secrets. You know, like a magician.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He gives your hand a squeeze, eyes finding yours, something written behind them that you can’t pick out. “I’ll see you tomorrow, magic tour guide.”

“See you, Steve.”

You’d spoken the entire walk back to yours, but it feels different now. Thicker. The way it did at the top of the lighthouse just before you’d kissed. You squeeze Steve’s hand back before turning to walk up your driveway.

Steve holds onto your hand until he can’t anymore, his arm stretched out ahead of him, yours behind you, only dropping when you’re out of reach. It’s something that has your hearts beating in tandem, like they miss the contact.

When you get onto your porch, the doorknob in your hand, you turn back and wave to Steve again, who lets a smile spread across his face as he waves back. Once inside, you lean against your closed door, head falling back against the wood.

What the hell are you gonna do when summer’s over and he has to go home?

Steve’s thoughts aren’t much different, because somehow, you’ve made this place feel more like home than Hawkins has in a long time. He’s not always worried about things—though he still worries more than he should—and it’s gotta mean something.

He kicks a pebble the whole walk back to the condo, dragging his feet and hoping that walking slower will make his mind move quicker.

It doesn’t really work, and once he’s back in his place for the summer, he figures that he should

probably call the only person who’ll know just what to say to him (with the addition of some jabs).

He grabs the phone from the wall in the living room and dials Robin’s number.

“Hello hello?”

Steve relaxes a little at the sound of her voice, because she’s his best friend in the entire world and he misses her. A lot. Where Hawkins felt heavy, Robin was the one to make things better, but with her and the group away, the weight got to him.

“Hey, Rob.”

“Steven! How’s your trip going?”

“I told you not to call me Steven.”

He actually doesn’t mind it that much, because it’s something only Robin calls him, and as silly as it is, he won’t really stop her.

“Don’t care. Tell me about your summer. Where are you staying again?”

“It’s called True Beach.”

“And?”

Steve can picture Robin waving her hand in the air as she says it.

“It’s actually really nice,” he says. “The beach is beautiful and the weather’s great and there’s a bunch of cute shops on the main street. I met this girl in the cafe and she’s been showing me around.”

“Oh, really? A girl?” She’s probably wiggling her eyebrows now, Steve thinks.

“It’s only friendly, Rob.” He opts out of telling her about the kiss just yet. Maybe because he knows what she’ll say, something about him

having feelings for you. And maybe Robin would be right about that. “But it’s been really fun so far. Went to the record store, this diner, the lighthouse. I got you some presents.”

“Aw, Steven! You shouldn’t have!”

“Don’t act like you don’t want the presents, Buckley.”

“Whatever, Harrington. Have you been taking pictures? And who’s this girl! You can't just gloss over that, dingus.”

“I have some, but my skills don’t really match up to Jonathan’s.” Steve leans his shoulder against the wall where he stands, twisting the phone cord around. “And she’s great, seriously. We’re friends, okay? You’d like her.”

And Steve believes that, because ever since meeting Robin and finding the sort of once in a lifetime friendship with her, he can only see himself around people that she’d like, too.

“I bet I would, Steven.”

“Anyways, how are you? What’s been going on?”

As Robin updates Steve on things—her crush that she’s never spoken to before, what Eddie said he was working on when she spoke to him last, what she had for breakfast—he listens, letting himself get distracted from his thoughts of you.

Not that the thoughts are bad in any way, but they’re confusing, they’re something he hadn’t been prepared for when he’d decided to take this trip. He finds that even though he spends a lot of his days with you, he’s still thinking about you once he’s alone.

Steve’s not quite sure how to face that, but for now, he won’t. He’ll listen to Robin, talk to her until they’re both too tired to continue. He’ll enjoy having you as his tour guide and his friend.

Whatever else you could become, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he doesn’t want you to be a stranger again.

Tomorrow has come and you haven’t been able to get Steve out of your head.

First it was the stuff that had you shoving your face into your pillow last night. The way his hand felt on your cheek when he kissed you, the way it felt in yours when he walked you home, the way he held on as long as he could when you parted ways.

Now, it’s the kind of what-ifs that have you worrying about what will happen when you see him again today. Will he act like nothing happened, will he want to talk about it, will he hold your hand again?

You’re excited to see him, it’s hard not to be when you like him so much, but you’re nervous, too. Probably for the same reason.

All you can do is go about your shift and hope that it distracts you enough to ease the small twist in your gut, the unknowns eating at you just a bit. If Macy notices something’s bothering you (which she does) she doesn’t say anything, opting to let you ride it out because when Macy believes something’s right, it usually is.

She feels that way about you and Steve.

Steve, who’s been tossing around in his bed all morning trying to sleep in and avoid thinking too hard. So far, no luck. Instead, he’s been wondering how to go about today with you. Because what he wants is something he’s afraid is too far out of reach, something he’s scared of, and he doesn’t know if it even remotely lines up with what you want.

Eventually, it gets too late for him to keep twisting himself up in the sheets, so he gets up and gets himself ready. Steve chooses not to drink coffee this morning, feeling jittery enough as it is.

His walk to the cafe is different today, because even though he’s still excited as ever to spend time with you, there’s a little weight in his chest that makes him nervous. He decides to walk quickly, whether it’s because he’s eager to see you or to get whatever will happen over with, he’s not so sure.

He doesn’t want you to be a stranger again.

Eventually, with a big breath in, Steve tugs the cafe door open. He sees Macy before he sees you, knowing it’s her because of the name tag.

“Hi there,” she says, her smile crinkling her eyes a little. “Steve, right?”

He’s surprised that she knows his name. And then, the idea hits him like a small punch, his mind getting hopeful with it; you must’ve talked to her about him. You care enough to talk about him with Macy, who you’d said is like family to you.

“Yeah,” he says, walking the rest of the shirt way to the counter where she stands. “And you’re Macy?”

“That’s me!” She seems to notice the way Steve’s eyes search the small cafe, and she smiles as she speaks, “she’s in the back. I’ll let her know you’re here.”

It’s not even a minute later that you’re walking out from the back and towards Steve, tote bag slung over your shoulder, sunglasses on top of your head.

“My guide,” he says as you meet him by the counter. “What’s on the agenda today?”

“You’ll see soon enough.” You fish your car keys from your bag, and they jingle in your hand when you find them. “Ready to go?”

“Sure am.”

As you and Steve head towards the door you hear Macy call, “bye, sweetie! Have fun!”

You turn to face her and send her a wave. In return, you get a wink and an eyebrow raise and you just shake your head. She might be onto something, though.

Soon enough you’re in your car, Steve in the passenger seat, driving out to the lookout because it’s usually quiet this time of day and you want him to see it that way. The waves crashing onto sand below, the endless stretch of sky.

You chat as you drive, and you’ve found that you didn’t need to be so nervous, because he’s Steve and something about him makes everything seem easy, natural. You’ve fallen into the same spot you were yesterday on the walk home, this bubble of pink and sweet and more surrounding you.

Steve asks you about how your shift went, how busy things have been, what you had for breakfast. Simple things that draw you back into simply feeling the glow of being with him. It’s like he soaks up sunshine and spills it out, warm and bright.

When you turn your head to glance at him quickly, you’re stuck on the way the sun hits his face, the freckles that have appeared on his nose from his time spent at the beach. He looks like he belongs here, you think. A boy with summer written all over him.

And when you make it to the lookout, Steve reaches across the center console for your hand, and your fingers lace together just like they had last night. It feels like the softest click of puzzle pieces fitting together, right where they’re supposed to be.

Steve hadn’t been thinking when he did it. It was his hand reaching out on instinct because it wanted to, because it felt empty where it sat in his lap beforehand.

You keep talking for a bit, back and forth and back and forth and all you can think about is how maybe (definitely) this is more than a crush. That maybe you don’t ever want to see him go.

After the lookout you and Steve still have plenty of the day left. You can only look at a view for so long, really, so you decide to head to the beach, which you’ve yet to do, surprisingly.

It’s the main attraction of the town, so you figure you should include it on your tour, even if you know he’s already been. It’s where you met, after all.

You lead him to a spot further down the beach, where crowds dwindle and a line of rocks sort of secludes it from the rest. Of course, it’s not empty. It never is during summer, but it’s as calm as it can get.

A bathing suit is usually hidden under your clothes during the months of May through August, so, with your towels laid out, a cooler that you’d had in your car set in the sand, and bags tossed beside it, you slip your sundress over your head.

Steve watches you pull the fabric up, the hem getting higher and higher until your dress is gone and he’s trying not to stare too hard. Your skin glows with the sun, and he has to tug his own shirt over his head to pull his gaze away. Fabric pulled in front of his eyes to snap him out of it.

Your sunglasses sit on the bridge of your nose, your eyeline hopefully hidden because Steve’s there and you can’t exactly look away. Dusting of chest hair over sun kissed skin, freckles and moles a constellation you’d reach out and trace if you could.

Blinking away, you shift your sights to the ocean, the waves cresting, whitecaps sliding onto the shore. You breathe in the salt air, the breeze warm against your skin.

Soon enough you and Steve are both settled on your towels, light chatter from other groups mingling with the sounds of the waves.

“Boy from the beach,” you say, lulling your head to the side to look at him. “Funny seeing you here.”

“What a coincidence.” Steve likes that you’ve got this thing, something shared between just the two of you. “Girl from the beach.”

“How’re you liking your trip so far?”

“Well, I’ve got this great tour guide. She’s been showing me all the spots,” Steve leans back onto his hands, while you’re laid down fully, peering up at him through your sunglasses. “I think you might know her.”

You grin, butterflies in your stomach. Your hands rest over your tummy, like you’d be able to feel them floating in there. It’s just so easy with him, so natural. You feel like you were always meant to meet each other, it was just a matter of when.

“She sounds familiar,” you play along.

“Yeah. Super kind, works at a cafe, really pretty.”

Really pretty. He’d added it on like a fact, like to him, there’s no questioning that. Your fingertips push against your stomach a little, trying to shoo away the butterflies.

“Pretty, huh?”

Steve’s always thought so, and he didn’t even realize he’d said it until you repeated it back. He doesn’t regret it, though. Because he thinks it every time he looks at you. That you’re pretty.

“Yep. Ringing any bells?”

“I don’t know about that, Steve.”

“I do, honey.”

Your eyes flick between his, his eyes squinted because he’d forgotten his sunglasses, but all you find is that softness that seems to live in the brown of his iris.

He’s looking at your face, at the curve of your mouth and the slope of your nose. It’s getting harder and harder to ignore the way he feels, the way he’s felt. He really fucking likes you.

You breathe in deep and turn your head to face the sky, nervous under his gaze, unsure of how to read things. He’s leaving at the end of summer, and you’ll be here. What if that’ll be all you ever see of him? His couple of months here, and then, the end.

The moment seems to pass, Steve changing the subject to something about a new music release he wondered if you’d listened to.

The feelings linger, though.

Worries shoved down and stomach flutters warded away (mostly), you and Steve talk like friends, which you’d take over strangers any day. It hasn’t been too long, but it’s been long enough that you know each other, that you can talk or be quiet and have it be comfortable.

Eventually, with sunbeams warming your skin and your early shift weighing on you, your eyes grow heavy and you're lulled to sleep by the sound of Steve's voice and the sea.

He’d been telling you a story, something about the first time he’d gone to see Eddie play at the Hideout and how surprised he’d been. When he’s done, he waits for a reply, only to be met with silence.

Peeking over at you, Steve notices your head rolled to the side, your chest rising and falling with steady breaths. As delicately as possible, he reaches over and lifts your sunglasses to find your eyes shut, and he realizes you’ve fallen asleep.

There’s a smile worming its way onto Steve’s face as he pushes your glasses back into place. A smile brought on by how cute he thinks you look right now, pout on your lips and hair messy from the wind.

A smile turning just a little bit lovesick because you feel comfortable enough with him to be asleep right now.

It’s only twenty minutes before you’re blinking your eyes open again, shifting and breathing in deep as you wake up. The breeze has died down, the heat having your forehead a little damp, your body uncomfortably warm.

“Morning, sleepy.”

You groan and turn towards Steve, sitting up and stretching your arms out in front of you before responding. “Hi. Sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep.”

“Don’t apologize. You’ve been working and dragging me around every day. I’d be tired, too.” He’d pulled the cooler to serve as a backrest while you were asleep, you notice. “Good nap, though?”

“Yeah. Guess I needed it.”

You’re feeling warm, almost too warm, so you fan yourself with your hands. Steve notices. “You feel okay?”

“Just warm. Probably shouldn’t have slept in the sun.” You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand, which you’re sure is unappealing, but Steve only seems concerned for you, never judgemental.

He twists to open the cooler set behind him, digging out a can that’d been buried in the ice, condensation dripping from it as he lifts it out and shuts the cooler. Steve scooches himself closer to you on the sand.

“Here,” he uses his free hand to move your hair out of the way, pressing the can to the back of your neck with the other.

Your head tips backwards, the cold can pressed to your heated skin immediately cooling you down, easing your discomfort. Still, you feel warm inside—this time, in a good way—because Steves attentive and so, so sweet.

“Thank you, Stevie. That feels really nice. Maybe you should be a nurse.”

“If nursing equipment was a cooler, maybe,” he chuckles. “That feel better?”

“Mhm. Much.” You’re feeling plenty awake now. Plenty alive. “You know what would feel even better, though?”

“Tell me.”

“A swim.”

Then, you’re pushing yourself up from the ground, sand sticking to your palms, and running towards the water. Tossing the can aside, Steve’s quick to

follow, chasing your laugh, grains kicked up behind his heels.

You’re waist deep in the water by the time he catches up, water shifting around him, warmed by sun rays and refreshing all at once. You twist around to face him, walking yourself backwards into the water slowly, Steve following you the way he seems to do.

He thinks he might go anywhere if you were leading the way.

Eventually, you stop, the water up to your chest now. Steve stands close, within reach, waves licking at his skin. You tilt your head at him, “hi.”

“Hi.” Steve runs his fingertips across the water, but his eyes are on you, how the sun is a halo of light behind you.

“Next on my tour: the ocean,” you hold your arms out, like you’re introducing the water to him. “What do you think?”

“Beats the lake back in Hawkins by a long shot.” Lover’s Lake is fun, but it’s nothing special. Mucky waters and grass rather than sand. But this, here, it feels special. “It’s great.”

“Yay! So, since it’s great, you won’t mind if I do this?”

You’re pushing water at him before he can respond, splashing him and giggling when he faces you, jaw dropped.

“You did not.”

“Figured you wouldn’t mind, since the water’s so nice and everything.” You shrug, “sooo much better than at home-”

You’re cut off by Steve’s retaliation. He’s gentler than you were with it, but you’re sprayed with water all the same and you can’t help but laugh a little.

“Oh, you’re on, Stevie.”

And then, you’re splashing him, and trying to swim away, and he’s chasing you and splashing you back, a mess of laughs and taunts, a play fight that’s free and fun and you don’t remember the last time you’ve felt this way.

It’s not long before Steve catches you, though, long limbs pushing him through the waves until his arms are wrapping themselves around your waist to tug you back to him.

“Gotcha,” he says, his head bent to speak into your ear.

You’re not laughing anymore, your heartbeat picking up in your chest, Steve’s arms seeping warmth into your skin and your stomach. You spin in his grip to face him, but his arms don’t move. “How’re you so fast?”

“I was co-captain of the swim team. We even won trophies and shit.”

“That was an unfair advantage.”

Steve’s hands spread wide, palms on your waist, thumbs dragging over the skin above your bikini bottoms. He sees the way your chest moves with your breaths, quickened and heavy. He’s not playing anymore. Not since he’d gotten the feeling of your skin beneath his hands.

“So, what do I win?”

“A free tour guide?”

“I already have that, honey.”

It’s hit you how close he’s gotten, his nose so close to brushing against yours. It’s like it’d been at the lighthouse, a shift, breaths mingling between your faces, a pull.

“Okay,” you say. You’re not sure if you’d been responding to what he’d said or if you’re answering a question he hasn’t asked out loud.

His eyes search yours, and when you lift your chin for him, he can’t help himself. Steve kisses you for the second time, his fingers digging little indents into your skin, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

You don’t think you could even if you wanted to. Instead, your hands find his shoulders, and Steve groans so softly into your mouth. Just from your hands on him.

It grows quicker, a little more heated, your mouths moving, heads tilting, and somehow you end up with your legs around Steve’s waist, one of his arms holding you to him, the opposite hand splayed between your shoulder blades.

The current seems to move with you both, waves hitting your shoulders, dancing around you. They push your bodies closer.

Steve can’t believe he’s kissing you again, he can’t believe he’s got you wrapped around him and your lips on his and that it’s real. That it feels so much like a wave rolling over and crashing, breaking something down, creating room for something more.

He forgets that you’re in public, that there are people around—though, not too many, thanks to the spot you’d chosen—and that time doesn’t simply stop when he kisses you. Because it sort of feels like it does.

The world goes quiet, and all he feels is you, you, you.

This time, when you pull away, after however long has passed, your hands slide from his shoulders down to his arms. You smile at him, almost bashful in a way, a tease still lingering behind it, “was that an okay prize?”

Steve’s got no idea how he’ll go back to Hawkins after this.

It’s been hours since Steve got back to the condo, and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you. You’d stayed on the beach until the sun set, and Steve walked you home, and he held your hand just like he did after the lighthouse.

And again, he finds himself reaching for the phone and dialing Robin’s number.

“Robin speaking,” her voice sounds after a couple rings.

“Hey, it’s Steve.”

“Steven! Hi! How’s it going over in beach land?”

He doesn’t even bother with the use of ‘Steven,’ because he’s just relieved to hear her voice, to know that he’ll always have her, to talk to his best friend.

“Yeah, it’s good.” He leans his shoulder against the wall, his free hand scratching lightly at his arm. “Really good. How are you?”

“You worried about me?”

“Rob.” I always worry, is what he means to say. Of course, Robin knows him well enough to know exactly what he means without having to say it.

“I’m good, Steve. Seriously! Except Keith keeps calling me to pick up shifts at Family Video and I don’t even work there anymore!” She huffs, and Steve laughs. “Don’t giggle, dingus. This is a serious problem.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll get bored eventually,” he says. “Why do you think Keith has had like five jobs in the last three years?”

“Whatever. Tell me about what you’ve been up to. Oh! How’s the girl?”

If she were here right now, Steve thinks Robin would be shaking his shoulders, demanding every detail. He’d held off on talking about you fully last time, but now, he needs advice and though Robin technically doesn’t have any experience to help him, she’s the only one he wants to tell right now.

“She’s incredible, Rob. I really like her, think you would, too.”

“Mhm, what happened to ‘it’s just friendly,’ huh?”

“We kissed. Twice, actually.”

“What! Steven, you can’t just drop that on me. What happened? Oh my gosh, is she your girlfriend?”

“Slow down. I’ve only known her for a couple of weeks, okay?” Robin makes a noise on the other end, and Steve can practically see the face she’s making. Something that says ‘whatever.’ “You know the last time I called you? We actually kissed that day, at the lighthouse.”

She gasps, “and you’re only telling me now?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Ugh, just keep talking.”

He shakes his head. Steve doesn’t really know how to put everything into words. How he feels, the way things happened. He tries anyway.

“Then today. We hung out at the beach, and we went for a swim, and we were playing around and then we were kissing. I don’t know. I like her a lot and I’m not really sure what to do. Or how she feels.”

“Okay. Okay, tell me about her. About the beach, too.”

“She’s really nice. Like, she says ‘hi’ to everyone when we go places, and she’s been showing me around after she works all morning.” Steve doesn’t realize that there’s a smile spreading over his face the more he talks about you. “It’s just so easy with her. It feels like I’ve known her for years with how we talk and everything. I don’t know. It sounds stupid.”

“It doesn’t sound stupid, Steve,” Robin’s voice is a little softer, like she wants him to know she means that. “And the beach?”

“It’s so great here. I like the atmosphere, the smell of the ocean in the air all the time and the people and even the condo is nice.”

“Can I say something that might scare you?”

“You’ll say it anyways, won’t you?”

“I will. Here it is: you sound really happy there, Steve. Like, happier than I’ve seen you in a long time.”

His stomach twists, almost guilty that he could be so happy someplace where he’d started fresh. Like he’s betraying Hawkins and all of the good that he’d found there, even when so much was bad.

“I really miss you, Rob. I miss everyone.”

“I miss you, too, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be happier where you are.”

Her words sort of punch him in the chest, air sucked from his lungs, his heart feeling heavy in his chest. Because when he thinks about it, like really thinks about it, Steve is happy here. Happy is a big thing.

“When did you become so wise, Buckley?”

“I’ve always been wise, Harrington.”

His head falls against the wall with a small thump, his thoughts weighing him down a little. Steve really likes it here, and he really likes you, and he misses his best friend. He’s not sure where to go from here.

“What am I gonna do?” Steve’s quiet, but Robin hears him.

“You’re gonna do what’ll make you happy, Steve. For once in your life, be selfish, do something for yourself, not anyone else.” Robin knows Steve better than anybody knows him, and she knows why this is hard for him. “You know I’ll always be here. It doesn’t matter where you are. Besides, True Beach isn’t so far. I’ll visit and annoy the shit out of you. Plus, I need to meet this girl. She’s clearly a good one, if she’s got you like this.”

Because she knows him the best, Robin already knows that what he should do is stay. Stay where he sounds happier than ever, unrestrained in a way he never could be in Hawkins. Stay with you, who’s brought it out of him.

“Love you, Rob.”

“I know. Love you, too, dingus.”

Steve’s eyes are stinging, though he’s not really sure why. Maybe he’s overwhelmed with how quickly things can change, sad that this feels a little bit like a goodbye even though he knows it isn’t, maybe even relieved that Robin’s supportive of him no matter what. Maybe it’s everything all at once.

“What about the presents I got you?” He asks.

“Well, Steven, there’s this thing called postal service, where you can put things in the mail.”

Steve laughs welty, eyes misty, grateful for how easily Robin manages to brighten the mood. For the rest of the conversation, he feels a little lighter.

Now he’s just got to tell you how he feels.

It’s crazy how people can take root into your life, plant themselves there and grow like ivy spreading wide over a house until there’s more green than brick.

Steve Harrington proved that when he’d shown up in True Beach mere weeks ago and dug a spot for himself in your life, in your heart. He came barreling in, a stream of sunlight sneaking through a gap in curtains, and you’ve chased the warmth, basked in it as much as you could.

In so little time, Steve’s become one of your absolute favorite people in the world. A stranger to a friend to something toeing the line of so much more. You’ve kissed twice, and it’s been enough to tell you that your feelings are undeniable. They’ve taken root just as he has, buried deep.

With those feelings, though, has come the painful realization that he’s leaving soon.

Last night, after your kiss, you hadn’t been thinking about what would happen next or what it could mean. No, you were blinded by the day of sunlight that is Steve. You’d forgotten that sooner or later, the sun has to set.

Now, it’s your day off and instead of sleeping in, you’ve found yourself overthinking at the lighthouse.

You’re worried about what will happen when Steve goes home, whether you’ll keep in touch, whether he’ll forget about you, if he’ll ever come back. On top of that, you’re worried about your feelings, how strong they’ve grown in a short time, if he, by any chance, feels the same.

Sat on the balcony, chin resting on your bent knees, staring out at the morning sky, all you do is think.

Steve’s conversation with Robin last night was the push that he needed, the reassurance that he can do this and have everything be okay, that he’s allowed to make this decision for himself. That doesn’t make it any less scary, though.

He decides that he has to tell you as soon as he can, while he’s got the momentum to do it.

It’s still early when he heads to the cafe in hopes of finding you, and while the place is open, there’s nobody inside when he walks in. Well, nobody except Macy.

“Hi there, Steve,” she says, a gentle smile on her face.

“Hi, Macy,” Steve then says your name, and Macy’s smile shifts to knowing and fond. “Is she here?”

“She’s not in today, dear. But I have a good idea of where you’ll find her if she isn’t home.”

“I do, too.” The lighthouse. “Thanks, Macy.”

“And Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m happy for you two.”

Macy speaks like she already knows how this will turn out. For the sake of optimism, Steve chooses to nod in thanks and head out. Macy seems like someone who’s right more often than wrong, and he hopes that it works for him this time.

He heads to the lighthouse right away, because he remembers what you’d said about being up there, how it helped you put things into perspective. Plus, he’s got a feeling. That pull to you guiding him.

While Steve feels good about his decision, hopeful, even, he’s still afraid. You might think this is all too soon, too fast. Worse, you might not even feel the same at all. But then, what if the worst doesn’t happen? What if you want him, too?

Those what ifs are enough to take the chance, he thinks.

Steve finds you at the top of the lighthouse, chin propped on your knees, arms wrapped around your bent legs. “Hey, honey. Want some company?”

You lift your head at the sound of his voice, turning to find him standing in the doorway to the balcony with his hands tucked into his pockets, his hair messy from the wind, eyes still a little puffy from sleep. He really is pretty, and you wouldn’t dream of denying his company. Not even when he’s part of your worries.

“Hi, Steve. Yeah, sure.”

He takes the few steps over to you, crouching to sit next to you, his shoulder touching yours.

“I went to the cafe to find you,” he says.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Then, you weren’t there, so I figured this would be a good place to look.” He nudges you lightly, “and I found you.”

“You did.”

“I wanted to tell you something, if that’s okay?”

If that’s okay, like you’d ever deny him.

“‘Course it is.”

“Okay,” he takes a big breath, because Steve knows there’s no going back after this. He’ll say it and he won’t take it back. “I really fucking like you. I thought we could be friends after we kissed the first time, like a blip, you know? And if you just wanna be friends, that’s okay. I want you in my life, however that looks. But I’d like you to be more than that ‘cause I have pretty big feelings for you.”

Your chest rises and falls quicker, his words making your heart pump faster, because he wants what you want and he’s telling that to you and it feels so good. Too good.

“Really?”

You turn your head towards him, finding him already facing you, your eyes locking like magnets. He’s smiling so softly at you, nerves and sincerity, patience and fondness. You want to kiss him all over again.

“Cross my heart, honey.”

“I really fucking like you, too, Stevie.”

And just like that Steve knows this was the right call, that you’re the right call, because there’s a sweet, closed-mouthed smile on your face that he put there and it’s all he could ever ask for.

He dips forward to kiss you, once, twice, three times. Small pecks before pulling back.

“What’s gonna happen when you leave?” You ask, worrying out loud, eyes searching his.

“About that,” Steve reaches for your hand, weaving your fingers together and giving it a squeeze. “I love it here. A lot. I feel like I could really belong here, and I have this pretty tour guide to thank for that… Um, I was thinking I’d extend my stay.”

You squeeze his hand back, fluttering in your stomach at the relief of him wanting to stay, at the thought that you’d had a part in that.

You think he could really belong here, too. He’s meant for summer and sand and the sun. Meant for lighthouse sunsets and every season by the ocean. He’s summer in a boy.

“Yeah? For how long?”

“However long you’ll have me.”

Steve wonders if now’s a good time to tell you that he’s fallen in love with more than just True Beach.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

thank u so so much for reading!!! if u enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment/reblog and letting me know what you thought! it helps and means so much <3

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 1 month

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fem!plus size reader, wc: 545.

a/n: I apologize @kajjaka that this took me so long to write this, but it's here and cute!! it was so easy to make this honestly — like the words just flew right out of my fingers!! thank you so much for your request and i hope you enjoy!!

You absolutely loved taking care of your team.

They were your family, your shoulder to cry on, your rock, so it’s always very easy to tell when one of them is struggling.

Reid’s blinks are getting slower and slower as he reads? You’re up and greeting him with a big and his sugary coffee. Emily looks like she’s having a hard time keeping up with all of her case loads? It’s already done and waiting for her on her desk the next morning.

You weren’t a pushover by any means, you just wanted to make sure they were always prepared for the potential rough day that lay ahead of them, and Aaron adored you for it.

But even though he found your kindness wildly admirable, he was worried about you.

Isn’t it taxing bringing the group homemade lunches almost every other day? What about when you make coffee runs for others when you have your own work that you need to do?

During the time of his worries you guys hadn’t gotten together yet, so he could only make boss-like suggestions to take it slow, even though there was so much he wanted to say to you. He wanted to take that extra stress off of your shoulders. And one day, he could.

Ever since the day you two had gotten together, he had taken the reigns in your personal lives. Your laundry was done, your clothes ironed, and your calendar was set up.

Now, you were on a much needed trip, and Aaron was trying his absolute hardest to make sure that you enjoy it to the fullest. He had never seen you so carefree. Sure, you were happy most of the time, but you were actually relaxed.

“Oh Aaron, look!” You tug on his strong bicep and point at the air. When he looks up, he sees birds. “What about them, sweetheart?” He questioned softly. “Reid told me that those kinds of birds were native here, but they were pretty rare. How cool is it that we were able to see them?"

Your excitement made him smile, and though he didn’t really have much interest in birds, if you cared, then he cared.

“It’s very cool, honey.” He looks down at the tourist map that you were holding between your interlaced arms. “Where do you want to go next?” Though he planned this whole trip out, it mostly just consisted of you dragging him places that you were interested in and he just smiled along the whole time.

“Hm… we’ve been walking around for a while and I’m a little hot. Are you okay?” You ask him in concern. You reached up and put the back of your head against his forehead. Aaron takes it gently, holding it in light hands, “I’m fine. How about we go get something to eat? How does that sound?”

“That sounds good! What are you in the mood for?”

“Whatever is fine with me, you know I’m not picky.”

You groan. “Ugh, Aaron, don't tell me that. You know I’m indecisive.” Your sentence fell off with a slight whine. He chuckles and with a soft shake of his head takes the paper from between your fingers.

“It’s fine honey, I got it then.”

He’ll always have you.

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wthtorke · 6 months

Text

Snowstorm

*Looks around* Well hello lmao what a better way to return than posting a THICK ass fic huh

8K words - Warnings for getting trapped, small spaces, and everything that comes with it + general trauma + injury - Gender-neutral reader

Enjoy! <3

You often put others' needs before your own.

Not that you noticed you did it. It took some pointing out from your close friends to get you to realize just how you swept your desires under the rug.

After god knows how much pushing, you agreed to go on a trip by yourself. "No work worries, no guys, no girls, just you and your alone time!" Your friend had said.

You sat in your living room with your laptop, browsing through destinations and flight tickets. Everyone seemed eager to see you go on the trip. At least, you hoped it was that. While you loved your friends, you worried that if you were not helpful somehow, they would drop you cold.

Were they happy for you or happy to see you go? You didn't know, but the trip could help that too. You wanted to be more independent, sure, and in tune with yourself.

Your eyes stop on an ad, and immediately you click it.

Skiing in the Rocky Mountains.

You smile. The cool crisp air may do you some good.

You book the ticket and the hotel for your stay, and as the week goes by, you pack your bags. You had gone on other trips throughout your life, of course, but this one felt a little different. Maybe because it'd be your first alone adventure in a long time, but whatever it was, you felt good about it.

The day before the trip, you say goodbye to your friends and head back to your house. Only 7 hours of sleep and a couple more of flight separated you from snow and, hopefully, a lot of fun.

The trip is easy enough. You get to your room at the hotel and unpack just enough to start exploring as soon as you could.

Groups of people gathered at the tourist stops choosing what they would be doing and booking activities for the day. Just as you reach the board, the ski equipment is fully booked for the day already.

You frown as a lady beside you nods. "Yup, all gone! I'm pissed as fuck too! You either bring your own or get here at the butt of the morning to rent equipment." She sighs. "I'm going on a hike. Make sure to leave your name in the equipment call, though. If somebody gives up, they should give you preference, it seems." She shrugs.

You nod, perking up and signing your name with the clerk's list, looking back at the girl again, "what hike did you choose?"

"Me? One of the easy ones, that one-," she points at the boards again. The list still had some spots left, "It's the longest of the easy ones, though. Thinking about joining?"

You nod, "Yeah, it's only my first day here. It sounds good enough for a first day," you say, picking up the pen and putting down your info on the list. The group would depart in 30 minutes, enough time to prepare for it.

"Nice! I'll see you at the meeting point later then!" She smiles and walks off. You smile at the clerk and head back to your room to pack your bag for the hike.

You pack your backpack with energy bars, the biggest water bottle you could find, the emergency first aid kit one of your friends gifted you, a hiking map you bought in the reception, a small emergency light, an emergency bivy, and an emergency blanket, just in case.

On your way down, you buy two sandwiches from a machine, along with a soup-filled thermos, stuffing them in your backpack before heading to the meeting spot.

You look around, searching for the lady you talked to earlier, wondering if she would make it in time.

She arrives 2 minutes before your departure, panting a bit but smiling at you, waving as she walks over. "Hey there, ready to freeze up there?"

"Definitely not." You two laugh as your guide speaks up, stating the hike rules and emergency tips. "And lastly, do not go anywhere alone. The hike is easy, but don't underestimate it! Safety is in numbers, always. Now, with all of that said, let's get hiking!"

The way up is slow. People chat quietly while they walk, taking pictures and generally marveling about the views, you included.

The wind is ice cold and makes your lungs feel a bit prickly when you breathe. Your cheeks are cold, a reminder that you were really there, enjoying a hike on a trip you made on your own. It makes you smile.

You're halfway up when your newfound friend approaches you again.

"So, you came by yourself?" The girl asks. You nod, "yeah, I thought I would do something different…what about you?"

"I travel alone all the time. First time here, though!" She smiles, "After I started going places alone, I just couldn't stop. It's way easier." She says. The guide announces your first stop to rest is just up ahead.

As most of the group sits down to eat and drink, you and your friend sit on a fallen log at the edge of the trail. You pull out one of your bars while she takes a few swigs of her water bottle.

You're laughing at her jokes when a crack calls your attention toward the trees. You turn around to look, staring intently at the trees. Your friend’s gaze switches from you to the trees multiple times, “Bestie? You good?”

“Did you hear anything?” You ask her, still searching. The chatter from the rest of the group dies down as you strain to hear anything from the trees again. “It’s probably a squirrel or something.” She shrugs.

“I think that was too heavy to be a squirrel.” You say, hearing it again as you get up from the log, picking up your backpack. She does the same, “Okay….maybe it’s a huge squirrel or a deer?” She says, starting to sound worried as well.

The cracking sounds get louder and more violent before a strong gust of wind hits both of you. A big thundering sound follows it. You realize what’s happening all too late.

“Avalanche! Run!”

You both scream and make for it. The snow comes crashing down through the trees as you and your friend sprint through the trail, trying to catch up with the rest of the group. You look at the snow for a fraction of a second and slip.

You fall to the ground. You can barely hear any screaming over the falling snow’s booming noise. You scream and try getting up again, putting your hands up to shield yourself from the snow.

Another sound hits your ears before a blur launches itself toward you. The sound is blood-curdling, bone-chilling, roaring as loud as the snow coming for you. You feel the impact of said thing against your body, throwing you both off the edge. You hold onto it, whatever it was. Screaming and closing your eyes as you both flew over the edge.

He had seen it coming, of course. While his brothers and sisters went for the hottest countries on whatever planet they landed in. He loved the snow. He had over two centuries of experience with it.

He saw it coming.

You are as light as he thought you would be. He holds you and your backpack against his chest as you fall off the snowy ledge. The cord of his wrist gauntlet catches against the stone. He snaps it off as you both get launched into the cave underneath the ledge.

He lands hard on his feet, setting you down unceremoniously on the ground before rushing back to the cave entrance. The snow rages violently over as it falls from the edge, washing over anything in its way. He had been using this cave for a few days now. He knew this could happen. Would happen.

Still, he needed to close the entrance.

The snow piles and pushes inside the cave. He aims his blaster toward the entrance’s ceiling and shoots, jumping over to your side as the stones crash down, stopping the snow from burying you both alive as he shields your body from the falling rocks.

It’s too much. You cry and scream while keeping your face on the floor, hands shielding your head as the booming noises of cracking trees, snow, and falling rocks make your heart pound in every which way inside your ribcage. You get dragged closer by the man who saved you, and you hug the thigh he was crouching on the ground with, sobbing into it as you wait for the nightmare to be over.

It feels like hours. It probably is hours long until the wreckage comes to a stop. You still hear the avalanche layers settling on top of the cave and its would-be entrance. The cave is pitch black. You can’t see a palm in front of your face. All you hear is your ragged breathing and the man’s -somehow- calm one. His is heavier, although slower than yours. he was big, you were sure he was from the blur you saw standing there before the rocks fell. His breathing had a dragging sound to it, a soft ‘ch ch ch’ that made your hairs stand on end. Oh God, what if he was asthmatic?

“I- I think we’re okay now-” You say. He doesn’t reply. “Sir, are you hurt? Oh God-” You panic, patting around the floor for your bag, scooting away from him until you find it. “I’ve got a light in here. God, I hope it’s not broken!” You take a deep breath and try to remember where you placed it, counting the small bags on the front before reaching the fourth one. You pull its zip and reach for the light. The thick, now wet, gloves you wear make the metal almost slip from your grasp.

“Please turn on, please turn on,” You pray as you push the button, successfully illuminating the wall in front of you. “Yes! Okay, now we can-” You turn around, looking for the man,

Finding something else entirely.

It’s bigger than any man you’ve ever known in your life. Its skin is of a blueish hue with black mottling. It has protrusions that remind you of a hedgehog’s quills up its forearms, chest, and the sides of its face. It wore a mask along with dense-looking armor that looked battle-worn. Its chest heaved the same slow and steady breathing, making the quills drag against the black netting it wore.

Your pupils dilate in dread as you perceive it whole. Your body freezes. Your breath hitches.

And you faint.

The light falls from your hand as your body hits the floor. Your backpack acts as a hard pillow as the world darkens and comes to a stop.

He watches as you turn into stone and pass out on your equipment, and only then does he move toward you. He grabs the small light you produced from your pack and turns it off with the click of a button, careful not to break it. He did not need light, not as long as he had his mask (even if he didn’t, if he was honest), and not as long as you were unconscious.

‘Might as well save its power.’ He thinks.

He takes a quick check over your form. Bruising was sure to occur. Your ankle was sprained, also expected. All in all, everything is fine. He’s glad about that.

Now, for air.

He stands up and walks to the entrance again. While it wasn’t safe to leave the cave while the layers were still loose, and with the temperatures dropping outside, your chances of survival were low, even if his weren’t. But being wholly shut in wouldn’t do either, especially with your panicked breath. Screaming requires air. Lots of it.

He stretches his palm over the cold stone, feeling around. A few well-placed holes would do well enough. Stepping back, his aim shines over the stone once more.

Adjusting the width of each blast, he lasers perfect circles scattered on the wall. The snow outside melts, and fresh, cold air drifts in through the holes before more snow covers them once more. He reaches for his back pocket, retrieving several silver rings, and places them into the holes in the stone. Adjusting the desired length of each ring before pressing a button, he watches the holograms expand on his gauntlet until they surpass the snow outside. He checks each tube, satisfied when air flows steadily through all of them.

He turns back to you and walks over.

He couldn’t say what made him save you. He had been hunting in the mountains. He did see you and your group going up. But why did he risk himself to save you? He didn’t know. He found himself clutching the tree he was perched on when the snow went down, even though he would have been safe. He leaped before you fell to your knees in the snow.

Crouching down, he takes a second to look at your face.

You groan, and he sits down, moving back to give you some space. You look around, seeing the thin light streaks coming from the wall. You look a bit to the side and squint, spotting the one figure you hoped was a dream.

A scream rips from your throat as you panic once more, almost crushing your light in the process. You back up into the nearest wall and point your light at him, turning it on again. “What are you?! What-!”

It’s a strange creature, half man and half… something else. You had no idea what.

He lifts his hands up, and you grasp your light firmly as if it were a gun. “Don’t move-! Stay there! Who are you? What do you want?!” You ask. Demand.

You hear audio shuffling before a distorted, “Easy…- Easy…” reaches your ears. You recognize the voice. Your instructor, the line spoken to the whole group while going through a particularly slippery part of the trail that morning. “What-...What are you? You’re not a man-, who are you?” You ask desperately.

He shakes his head, and you want to cry harder, though he didn’t answer your second question. “Am I dead?” You sob. He shakes his head again and slowly points to the door.

“-..-Thick S̴̨̛̛̞͉̗̜̦̘̤̤̱͉͖͒̍̑̆̑͌͆̃̕n̴̡̳̖͕̹̞͎̝̞͂̿̀̾̏̈̈́́͝ơ̸̝̣̓̔̾͊̈́̇̇̋̎̓͜͝w-.”

You sniffle, not peeling your eyes from him. “Are you going to hurt me? Please don’t-” He doesn’t reply, slowly lowering his hands again. You start to get nervous again before he points to the corner of the cave. Hesitantly, you cast the light to it, seeing the glint of the metal-like cord he had used to save you both. Your eyes widen as you try to remember the quick flashes of the occurred. You fell. The snow was coming. Something caught you, held you, and you fell over the edge. The light moves back to his form. “It was you-, so you saved me, okay-, but why?”

Again, no reply.

The tears form cold, stiff streaks on your cheeks as you try to wipe them with the back of your gloves. You look around the cave. It wasn’t that big. You doubted you could stand up fully inside it, let alone someone as big as your…new friend. He had taken care of the air supply, but you weren’t properly trained for this. You feared you wouldn’t last until the morning. Not like this.

“You-, you made the holes in the walls, right? Can’t you get us out?” You ask him. He shakes his head. “Safer-...Here.”

“How is it safer here? We’re buried to our necks in-...Snow.” He nods.

“Snow is a good insulator, right?” He nods again. “Right…So you’ll get us out in the morning?” He doesn’t reply. “I’ll take that as a hopeful yes.” You say, setting your light down in the middle of the cave, pointing at the ceiling, illuminating the space the best it could.

You open your backpack and set to planning your night here. You see your phone and gasp, trying to get it. No signal.

You sigh as you look at the rest of your pack. You had your blanket, emergency bivy, and food and water were also fine. Nothing got broken during your rescue, thankfully.

You take a look at your companion to find him also going through his own pack, though his equipment looked far different than yours. They almost seemed like…weapons.

Oh, God.

“Do you come here often?” You ask. His head snaps at you. You freeze.

He shakes his head, and you sigh in relief. “You don’t…hunt people, right?”

He keeps staring. You wish you hadn’t asked. “Innocent people? You hunt innocent people?” Perhaps it was the trauma, the ice, the pain, or the sheer chaos of the situation you found yourself in. But judging an alien creature wasn’t as impossible as you thought it’d be. “Hunters- -Like me.” His mask croaks.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “You hunt…other hunters? Human ones or, like, -really- like you? People like you?”

“-Like me.” He repeats.

“Your own species? Like a cop?”

A few seconds pass before you hear your own voice. “Like a cop.” Your eyes widen more. “So you’re a space cop, got it…Then what are you doing here on Earth? And in the -snow- of all places?”

A strange sound comes from him. A scoff.

“Vaca̶̤͔͚͌̃͝ͅtion timee̷̛͖̬͙̞̞̯͙͉͓̓́̈́̀̚e̴̛̞͎͆̀͂̉̎̂͘̕͠͝e-” A young girl’s voice followed by laughter.

You find yourself laughing nervously at the audio. A soft laugh that makes him tilt his head slightly. “Me too.” You say, “Ironically enough.”

You set out your equipment in silence before you unwrap your first sandwich. You look at your watch. 3 PM. Nice time to have a heavier snack, then you could eat the bars until the night and then eat your soup. And you’d still have your second sandwich!

Your…second sandwich.

“Hey.” You look at him again. He looks up from organizing his gear. “Do you have any food in that pack of yours? I have an extra one here.” You lift the wrapped sandwich to show him.

He seems to consider before giving you a dismissive hand gesture, going back to his fiddling.

“I have plenty here,” You say. “I don’t think…someone as big as you shouldn’t go too long without eating something.” He looks at you again. His mask moves slightly. You weren’t sure if he was really looking at your hand or not.

“It’s just a turkey sandwich, are you vegetarian?” You ask, worried, for some reason. He makes a strange sound. Clicking and huffing came from his mask. Was he laughing?

“Look, to me, you’re a carnivore -at least- but I can’t be too sure, right? You’re the first…alien I know.”

He shakes his head. “Not-, Vegetarian.”

You nod, digging around your backpack for the other sandwich before tossing it to him. The speed with which he catches it is impressive enough. You blink, and his hand moves from the ground to beside his mask, catching the sandwich.

He eyes it as you eat your own. For a second, you wonder if he’s allergic to anything in it. You’re about to ask when he moves again, sitting with his back turned to you.

You frown in confusion as he sets the sandwich down on his thigh before starting to take the mask off.

Each pop it makes has your eyes widening impossibly more. With everything that happened, you forgot the mask wasn't his -face-.

He sets the mask down, its impassive expression staring at you from the floor while he picks up the sandwich again, unwrapping it.

You wondered what he looked like without it. It felt too rude to ask. Maybe he wanted to remain anonymous from you.

Maybe the light hurt his eyes. Maybe he didn’t want to scare you.

Maybe he was just -shy-.

The clicking sound- now much louder and clear, calls your attention back to reality. You watch as he apparently throws the whole sandwich into his mouth, if he really had one, and swallows it whole.

If he chewed it, you didn’t hear it. But you do hear the biggest ‘gulp’ of your life coming from him.

You jump a little bit when he picks up the mask again, snapping the tubes back on and turning around again.

You finish eating your own food and put the trash in your bag. "I need something I can…call you- you know, other than alien? That feels rude.”

He shakes his head, and you lick your cold lips in thought. “How does Storm sound? I don’t think ‘Avalanche’ is any good.” You shrug, taking a swig from your water bottle. “I don’t think I should mention this to anyone, right?”

He nods. You purse your lips again, “Look- I know the less contact between us the better, and I definitely shouldn't be asking these questions- but if I don't talk I think I'll go insane."

Storm crosses his arms, seemingly in thought before he says a simple, firm, "Yes."

"...Are there more alien species? Do you know them? Seen any?"

"Yes. -Yes….Yes."

"Wow." You whisper to yourself. "You're the most amazing and intense thing that ever happened to me…besides the avalanche, of course."

He relaxes, shifting a bit to sit against the stone wall. You do the same, resting against your pack. "Our government must know of you- are we friends? Our people?"

He shakes his head. You sag. "Oh…that sucks" Storm tilts his head, and a series of cut audios gather your attention again. "Government- sucks."

You laugh. His shoulders shake slightly. Maybe he was laughing as well?

"This wasn't what I had in mind when I came here, but I'm glad you're here. Thank you for saving me," you say. He stares at you before nodding slowly.

You smile and look at his pack on the floor, "Hey, do you have water? I have some if you want." He shakes his head and pulls out a metal bottle from one of the pouches on his back. A canteen?

“Do you want to lay out our things? We could see what we have and how we’re going to split it until tomorrow. I know the first rule is overpacking is good but…I don’t reeeally have that much,” you let out a nervous laugh.

He takes a second and stands on his knees. He is almost as tall as you'd be standing like that. He gathers his pack and throws it closer to you while he moves over.

You stare at him for a couple of seconds before the mask slowly turns to you. “Oh-, right, sorry- you’re just- okay never mind- So, I got my light, of course-, I got some energy bars, water, a map, a bivy, a blanket, a knife, a little emergency kit, and soup! Well-, more food if you can’t translate that.” You hold up the thermos like it was a prized trophy, "what do you got?"

He starts laying his own things out.

A dagger, cuffs of some kind, knives, a -whip-, the canteen he had shown you earlier, mini orbs that suspiciously looked like smoke bombs from movies, plus other things- probably weapons too, you had no idea the use of. And last, but not least, he offers you a jar.

You put yours down and hold his. The lid is not nearly as simple as yours, it has a mechanism on top of it. You frown in confusion before he snorts and presses two buttons on top of it.

The lid fizzes, and you gasp, looking up at him. He nods, and you slowly take it off, placing it on top of your blanket. The smell hits your nose, and you look at him again. "Jerky? Oh my God-, can I?" He nods.

You carefully take a strip of meat from the jar. "What kind of meat is this? This isn't…human, right?" You gulp. He shakes his head and lifts his wrist. His gauntlet shows a hologram of a deer.

"Ohhhh, wow, you're really a hunter, aren't you?" You marvel, putting the strip back in the jar before closing it again. Storm taps the same buttons, and it seals tight again.

You place the jar on the floor along with everything else. The contrast between your equipment and his is stark. You laugh a bit. "Well, aren't we made for each other?" He snorts as you check your watch.

You look up and find his mask very close to you, also looking at your watch. "It's not as fancy as yours," you laugh, holding your wrist up for him to see.

Being this close, you feel your face heat up. You look down at his torso when he gently grabs your wrist, inspecting it closer. "You- are you not um- cold? You're not exactly ah…layered up."

He did wear some fur around his shoulders and waist, but other than that, only the netting and some armor. He does the clicking sound again- chuckling?

The hand on your wrist firms it while the other pops your glove open, pulling it up and off your hand. You jerk a bit when he pulls the naked hand to his chest. "Oh- what-...Oh."

Hot. He is hot. Literally.

You can't tell if the netting is heated or if he's just a furnace. But he's incredibly warm. Your fingers twitch as you concentrate on the feel of his skin. It wasn't like yours, that was for sure. It was almost rubbery, and hot but texturized as well. It was…well, alien. The prickly quills he had also were interesting to stare at.

What a Tarzan moment.

You take your hand back, putting your glove on again, "I'm jealous of that temperature. Even with all these layers, I'm still cold," you frown, "your planet must be scorching hot," you say.

He takes a while but nods.

He didn't exactly like sharing information, you learned. It was fair, he saved you- and he was an alien. Things were complicated. "I think you look great here though, in the snow," The glove feels cold compared to what you just experienced.

He scoffs, crossing his arms as you think about the events of today over and over again before looking at him once more. "Do you have any family?" The question hits you like a train and blurts out of your mouth before you could filter it. "I mean- if you can tell me."

He nods, and your eyebrows go up in surprise. Not that you thought he wouldn't have one. He had a belly button, so he couldn't have just…spawned from somewhere. You smile at the mental image of him just popping into existence.

You look back at your equipment, especially at the food. "Look, I know we're on 'not too much involvement' thing, but you don't have to turn away every time to eat. I won't tell anyone- though I'm sure the government must have blurry pictures of others like you in their archives somewhere already."

He's closer to you than before, having not moved away since your little touching moment. His presence is as grounding as it is exciting. It makes you alert and awake, even though you're so tired.

Storm's mask turns to you slightly, considering.

"Scary."

You frown. "Scary? Your face is scary? But your mask is so…familiar? Is it too different from it?"

He nods again.

"Oh- well, I won't be afraid of you, you saved my life, and now we're here chatting and having an icy picnic covered in snow. I'd say this makes us best friends." You smile. He huffed.

What he does instead is lift his wrist gauntlet again. Another hologram pops up.

"Ohhhhh my-" You look back up at his mask. Its cold expression almost mocks you. "Okay, you weren't lying when you said it was different- why do you guys make it like that? You know what- that's none of my business, sorry." You look back at the hologram.

While you didn't know if it was really him- the hologram was all red-, the way their faces were just…made sense. The tusks, the teeth, the mandibles. You marvel at the quills on the eyebrows, just like they were on the rest of him.

Something must have been wrong with you, but you didn't think he was ugly.

"I get the scary part. I'd freak out if I saw you in the dark, no offense." He chuckles deeply, the most you've seen him laugh so far. You smile again. "Thanks for showing me, now I won't pass out on you again if you take it off." He shuts it off. You almost made a sad noise at it.

Suddenly, all the excitement takes a toll on you. With your last burning curiosity sated, your eyes begin to get heavier. "Okay, I think the adrenaline is starting to wear off." You say. "I think I'm going to sleep a bit."

He gets up, checking the air supply tubes in the stone. You worm your way into your bivy, leaving the blanket for him if he needs it. He probably wouldn't, but the thought eased you. "Wake me up if anything changes okay?" You say. He doesn't react. You take a painkiller and lay down again.

"...and please don't leave me here alone." You say, with a little more emotion than you anticipated.

He turns his head and nods before going back to his inspection.

You close your eyes for a second.

Just a second.

You jolt awake when a hand closes around your shoulder. You blink several times, breathing in deeply as you focus on the mask before you again. "Hey- anything changed?"

Storm shakes his head, pointing at your watch instead as you sit up. You check the time. 7:15 PM. Your ice cave definitely feels colder now.

You get up, taking your soup thermos out of the bag. Its lid made for a little bowl. You prayed it was still warm.

You sigh in relief as you pour the soup on the lid. It was lukewarm, but the warmth spreading through your torso was priceless. You're on your second sip when you hear the same fizzy noise as before. Your eyes darted to your side where Storm was taking his mask off.

You gulp as the second tube is snapped off. He's facing forward as he's sitting beside you. But still, you would see it.

You tip the cup back as you swallow your third sip, hoping the thick plastic would disguise your blatant staring.

Storm's fingers slip under the metal, snapping it briefly before lifting it from his face. Your breath quickens quietly as your eyes follow the metal until it's placed on the floor. You stare at it before slowly looking back up.

Storm is looking at you.

Your eyes dilate as you take in every aspect of his face. The mandibles, the tusks, the sharp teeth peeking from behind tightly closed tusks. The blue hue from his body painted his face, fading into a cool white tone in the middle of his face. The edges of his head are shaped like a crown. A black crown that closed into the middle of his head, where the blues and whites were.

And then the eyes. His eyes.

Unlike the rest of him, Storm’s eyes were yellow. Deep, electric yellow. The primal instinct in your brain told you this was wrong. His face was wrong. Well, he wasn’t human. You were coded to think anything with different features walking on two legs was weird.

Your brain told you to run, scream or get help, to do something -against- him while the rest of you knew well that he was an ally. It was hard to go against every fiber of your being and stay still.

‘He’s still your friend.’ You think. ‘He just looks a little different.’

Storm’s expression changes, and while you can’t grasp what the tusk movements must mean yet, you surely know what a skeptical eyebrow raise looks like. “I’m not freaking out, I swear.” You manage to say. You have no idea if he still understands you without the mask.

He seems to, as his top tusks twitch and his eyebrows relax. He looks away and grips his own jerky jar. You’re suddenly reminded of your soup. You pour more soup onto the lid, gulping it down while trying your best not to openly stare at him.

It’s evident he’s also trying to ignore you while he eats. His tusks part and he inserts the chunks of jerky in. You can’t see any molars in your ogling. Maybe he was made for tearing out chunks of food and swallowing them like a crocodile?

You gulp down more of your soup until it’s down to half of it. You shake the thermos a bit, doing your best to stir the soup before leaning it toward him. “Would you like some?” To your surprise, he’s also offering you his jar. You smile, nodding, “Let’s swap.”

You trade bottles, picking out a piece of jerky while he brings the thermos closer to his mouth. He didn’t have an apparent nose, but maybe he just smelled things differently. He must have deemed it good enough for his mandible part, and he tips his head back, drinking the soup. You half expected it to spill over and make a mess, but having done this for however long he had lived, he knew what he was doing.

You, on the other side, had no idea what you’d do without your lips.

After eating your fill and re-packing, you huddle close to him. Storm messed with his wrist gauntlet as you lost yourself in your thoughts once more. For once in your life, the silence was comfortable. Sure, you couldn’t exactly communicate, but that didn’t feel like a problem.

You could communicate with your friends and family, but it still made you anxious at times. Next time you check your watch, it's about 9 PM. “I think we should sleep,” you say, getting his attention once more. “I’ve slept a bit and…fainted, but you haven’t slept yet.”

Seeing him without the mask was as otherworldly as it was interesting. Seeing his expressions as he listened to you, then changing while he thought before finally setting as he nodded.

You smile and crawl back to your bivy while he checks the air supply once more. You had no idea how you would get out of the cave tomorrow, but you trusted Storm and his high-tech equipment. And his muscles. The muscles were a big plus, too.

By the time he turns around, you’re inside your bivy, but you point to the blanket folded neatly on top of your backpack. “I know you’re well warm, but the blanket is over there if you need it.” He looks at it briefly before nodding at you. He hands you your emergency light and lays down on the opposite side of the cave, about two arm's lengths away from you.

“Good night, partner.” You say before shutting the light off, getting a grunt in return.

The cave was pitch black as you expected. You shuffle a bit in your bivy before settling down completely on your side. You wondered how people outside were doing. Did the avalanche make the news? Did your friends know? Was anyone else hurt during it? You were thankful to be alive, thankful for Storm, but you felt bad for everyone else.

Tears prickled in the corners of your vision as you try so hard to fall asleep. It’s cold, you’re trapped in a cave with an alien. Not that Storm was a negative point. You’d be dead without him. But things were far from okay right now.

You hear shuffling and wonder if Storm also has trouble sleeping. He’d been calm so far, never raising his voice or panicking. ‘Maybe he’s used to these situations.’ You think, given the scars he bears on his body. You didn’t want to think of what could hurt someone like Storm.

Your chest feels tight. It’s hard to push the anxiety down. You almost want to talk to him again, but what would you say? What -could- you say? You were the one to suggest sleeping in the first place. Your heart beats faster, and you’re awfully aware of your surroundings, even in the dark.

The walls are cold and wet. The air is a little stale. You can smell yourself as you can also smell Storm behind you. You can smell the thick rubbery scent of your gloves as they grip the bivy’s lining with all they got. Like you had gripped Storm earlier that day when he rescued you.

You swallow dryly, trying to breathe in and out to avoid negative thoughts. Things would be okay. You were alive, fairly warm, and you had a big alien as your personal bodyguard through a disaster. You hear more shuffling. The sound of the emergency blanket being unfolded hits your ears. You wait a couple of seconds, eyes darting around in the dark before you open your mouth to ask him if he was okay.

You’re in the middle of breathing your first word when you feel the blanket getting laid on top of your bivy. Storm smooths out the blanket on top of you before laying down again, closer to you this time. You’re at loss for words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water.

You feel his breath against the top of your beanie, so his chest must be somewhere in front of you now. You bite your lip, feeling the knot in your chest loosen the tiniest bit. You were not alone. Things were going to be okay. You focus on his breathing pattern, so even and calm. Constant. The sound his tusks occasionally make is soothing over the deathly silence of the cave. You don’t remember closing your eyes, nor do you remember falling asleep.

The way your bladder burns wakes you up. Storm’s breathing is heavier now, asleep. It pains you to move, like getting your pet out of your lap after it finally got comfortable.

As soon as you move, his breathing stops. Then resumes in that light, calculated rhythm. Awake.

“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper, worming out of your bivy, patting around for your light. You go to the far corner of the cave and do your business, covering it with loose dirt with your boot, thanking the universe Storm didn’t move an inch from where he was.

Taking your pants off in the unbelievable cold of a 3 AM shut-in ice cave was no easy business. Curse bodily functions to the end and back. You do your best to push the burning shame down and head to your backpack, sanitizing your hands.

You steal a glance to your side while you think, catching Storm looking directly at you. Your spine shivers a bit, a mix from the cold and his gaze. You take another sip of water and crawl back into your bivy, mindful of your ankle.

It makes your face heat up more to see how close he’s been to you for all these hours and how he doesn’t care enough to move away, even now that you disrupted him awake.

You lick your lips and clutch your light, looking at him again before shutting it off. Your face is still hot from all of it, but you listen intently to his breathing and clicking. You hoped he wouldn’t move away from you just yet, at least until you fell asleep.

You feel the warmth coming from his chest, moving your head forward so you could be closer to it, trying to chase away the rest of the cold from your suit again. That pee break cost you some precious degrees.

You’re still sulking internally when he finally moves. Your eyes widen in the dark as he spreads the blanket over you again. You smile and close your eyes, only to open them again as widely as before when you feel his arm drape over you.

He grunts, and suddenly you’re being dragged forward by that same arm. Your forehead hits something, and you instantly know it's his chest. You swallow hard. It’s as hot as it was earlier, rumbling with each breath.

“Warm.” He croaks. You shiver at how deep his real voice is. You nod fervently against his chest. The arm stays around you.

It takes you several minutes of internal struggle to calm down again. Your face is hotter, both from your embarrassment and his body temperature. Your ears turn back on when you hear a faint noise.

You squint, leaning in closer, and the sound gets louder.

His heartbeat.

Your body relaxes, almost melting against him.

His arm tightens the tiniest bit around you. You press your cheek against his chest, feeling his mandibles graze against the top of your beanie.

The rest of the night goes by too fast for your liking.

He wakes you up at 7 AM sharp. You almost want to cry when you realize the arm is no longer holding you, that his heartbeat is not against your ear still.

He packs his equipment, and so do you, leaving only the map out. “We were here yesterday.” You say, pointing at the map. “The hotel is here, and I think the equipment stall is here?” You felt like you were explaining your destination to a taxi driver.

You look up at him. He’s masked and ready to leave. So are you.

“How are we going to do this? Or, well, how you’re going to do this?” You ask. Storm makes a punching motion toward the stone. You almost can’t believe your very eyes. “Oh.”

Storm retracts the tubes and puts them away in one of his bags. This was it.

You stand at the side as Storm readies himself. He pushes some buttons on his gauntlet. You brace yourself as it makes a firing-up noise.

Storm steadies himself and times the punch with the gauntlet’s blast.

You close your eyes at the noise, protecting your head with your hands before you’re snatched from the ground once more.

You open them again when blinding light covers your eyelids. Everything is white as your eyes adjust. When colors flood your vision, you realize that not only you’re out of the cave but you’re in the air. Everything moves too fast.

Storm holds you up as he lands harshly in the snow piled below between trees. You shake the snow off your face as he works you both out of the thick snow bank. He squats again, and you hold tightly onto his neck before he jumps once more.

You struggle not to scream this time as well.

Storm lands firmly onto the snowy forest floor. He places you down gently as he surveys the area before relaxing once more. You look around, looking at the mountainside, following the trail of broken rocks until you see the cave's would-be entrance, quickly getting topped with more falling snow. “We were there?” You ask, out of breath. Storm nods. You turn to him. “Good legs.” You compliment. He huffs behind the mask.

You feel buzzing coming from your backpack, frowning in confusion before you remember your phone. Placing the pack on the floor, you quickly check it, watching as the multiple messages and missed calls finally load into your screen. You smile, choking on your breath before looking at Storm again.

You avoid your hurting ankle as you surge forward and wrap your arms around him again. He barely moves, not stepping back or stopping you. His hands hesitate at his sides before coming up and resting them on your shoulders, pressing you against him once before letting go.

You look up at him, seeing him at full height in daylight felt unreal. “Thank you so much. I owe you everything. You saved me. You had no obligation to, but you did. Thank you so much.” You bury your face into his chest again, feeling it rumble. You smile before he tenses up, and you both hear the helicopter sound from far away.

You let him go, looking up at the sky before looking back at him. Your heart tore into pieces. “You can go now.” The tears sting your eyes. “I’ll be fine from here.” He looks back at you.

“I’ll never forget you.” You sob, “Thank you again, for everything.”

The helicopter gets closer. You watch as he disappears in front of your very eyes. The blue skin and armor blend with the snow and trees behind him before the reflective figure jumps up one tree to another, and another, until you lose track of it in the distance.

Cold tears slide down your face as you hobble your way to a clearing, throwing your arms up when the helicopter comes into view.

The rest of the day goes by too slowly for your liking.

You’re taken back to the hotel, where a makeshift hospital has been set up. You’re asked questions, to which you reply either ‘I don’t know’ or ‘I was buried in the snow all night’. You text your friends and relatives back while your ankle is tended to. You see the hiking girl from yesterday when you’re getting cleared from IV hydration hours later.

She screams in surprise, coming to hug you. ‘How did you make it?! Oh my God, we thought you were dead! I’m so happy to see you!” She cries, and so do you. After talking for a while, she shakes her head. “I’m cutting the damn trip -short-. I’m going the fuck home, and so should you. The flights are crazy, but there’s a company giving preference to the victims and their families.” She informs you.

One hour later, she hugs you one last time before leaving.

You do as she says, cutting the trip short as well, needing to process and recover from everything that happened. You’re promised heaven on earth by the hotel and the flight companies for future trips. Your friends scoff at the very thought of it. “Why the hell would you go back there? That’s insane of them to offer you packages like that.” One of them says.

You nod along the next few weeks until things slowly blend into normality again. You don’t tell anyone about what happened that night, and people don’t bother you about it. You look at your bag in your wardrobe every time you open it, thinking back to him, wondering if he also thought about you.

Six months of this go by. Followed by another six months.

One day, you open your wardrobe and pull your bag out again, dusting it for your trip. People worry about your decision of going back there. Some worry it might reopen wounds rather than closing them for good like you told them it would. Some others just thought you were crazy.

Crazy or not, you packed your bag and left. The flight took off and landed. You found yourself at the hotel, looking at the same clerk in the eyes again while she checked you in again, welcoming you back to the hotel.

You look at the hiking lists, finding them slightly different, but still running. You check in for solo hiking. You pack your bag accordingly this time, filled with all the necessities a survivor could need before you take off.

The forest is peaceful, and the track is fresh beneath your boots. You’re enjoying soup fondly at the end of the track when you hear that noise. The rumbly, clicking noise that you heard in your dreams for the past year. Always followed by the steady sound of a strong heartbeat.

You turn around, smiling when blue hues and armor flood your vision once more. ----------- If you read it till here, you're a champ lmao

Thanks for reading <3 muah muah

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