#will regret staying up this late later

[xandz89]

Do you ever just choose not to sleep at all just to avoid something happening at some point during the day and so the longer you stay up the more time you have to yourself and ability to avoid it

#relatable #3 am thoughts #avoiding the problem #should be sleeping #asking questions someone else has already asked #will regret staying up this late later

[magicofthepen]

War Room 1 Thoughts

My first listen, immediate reactions and emotions and ramblings below the cut. (There are. a lot of ramblings.) Spoiler free summary is that I enjoyed the boxset overall—I really liked a majority of the episodes, and I loved two of them. And even the one I was meh about, I didn’t dislike, it just felt like the weak link of the boxset. 

THE LAST DAYS OF FREME

I listened to the preview the other day, so see this post for my initial thoughts on the first 15 minutes.

(….and whoops I have more thoughts on the first 15 minutes.)

I love how Leela is resisting the Time Lords in such a visceral, physical way at the beginning. While she isn’t as fearless as she wants them to believe, she’s far more willing to fight back when it’s her own life (or well-being) being threatened. And she has been through so much, it feels like it’s all coming out in one drawn out scream as the Time Lords try to control her. 

But then: I do think Rassilon invoking Romana (even if he’s claiming she’s dead) is a way to subtextually dangle her over Leela’s head.

I do like quite like the new theme! The mood of it is so different from Time War despite not sounding that dramatically different (if that makes sense??)—but the energy it has feels right for this boxset. Time War was a plunge further and further into despair, and at last there are glimmers of hope. (….whether that hope will last is another question though.)

“Do I have a choice?” god this line is so raw. Leela’s choices have been taken away from her so much. 

Lou Morgan Gets Leela so well, please let her keep writing Gallifrey. (This is going to be a running theme here.) Anger is her default way of dealing with grief, she’s drowning in grief and rage throughout the story, it’s so devastatingly good.

I thought it was in shame in Time War 4 that Richard Armitage’s Rassilon spent most of the time monologuing—I’m glad a main character gets to properly interact with him here. I’m even more glad about the amount of times Leela threatens to kill him. Extremely in character. I would have been disappointed if that didn’t happen.  

And there’s a “coming full circle” horror with Leela and Rassilon. He violated Leela’s autonomy the first time they met by shoving himself into her mind and possessing her. And now he’s violating her autonomy again, dehumanizing her and trying to make her a tool of the Time Lords, having a literal collar placed around her neck to restrict what she can do.

“You are a ghost.” The Matrix projection of Ollistra’s earlier incarnation is a bit reminiscent of Pandora—a ghost from the Matrix rising again in a body that should be gone. That parallel makes Leela’s horror at Ollistra’s nature make even more sense.

“since Romana’s imprisonment in the Vault dimension” The General does know what really happened to Romana. Interesting, since Rassilon speaks as though she’d dead, in public and in private. 

“She is a blunt instrument. A tool. Nothing more complicated than that.” oh this episode is going hard on Leela being dehumanized. 

In Time War 2, it took until Episode 3 to have the Time Lords wipe out a planet, and that was the worst thing they’d done, an inconceivable atrocity. And now that’s the baseline. That’s what they’re starting Leela out with. It really drives home how much worse the War has gotten, how the Time Lords don’t blink at atrocities, and I love that this boxset didn’t shy away from going there immediately.

“Would the Oubliette not be more practical?” Confirmation that it’s officially returned. Although it’s odd that they assume the Daleks will know if they Oubliette the planet, but not if they destroy it through other means? 

The General shows flickers of compassion to Leela, but also clearly has Rassilon’s ear. He’s a fascinating character—he comes off a sympathetic in comparison to other Time Lords because he’s kinder on a personal level, but in this episode he actively tries to persuade Leela to commit genocide. There’s a different kind of horror in the soldier who is squeamish about torturing one person who he knows, but justifies murdering billions as a necessity. 

“One hundred microspans” oh the audios are back to using microspans, are they?

“Home. Some of us have no home left to return to.” I realize this was absolutely not meant as a Unity reference, but there are no Unity references, so I have to selectively interpret things where I can. Anyways, friendly reminder that the home Leela had built and found peace in for almost two decades was still only recently blown up, and her family lost to her in different ways. 

I love Leela’s malicious compliance with Time Lord orders. Exactly the energy I was hoping for!! 

The General is displaying typical Gallifreyan supremacist attitudes when he’s talking and an absolute willingness to follow orders in this first episode. He’s wriggling around his orders by the end of the boxset, and obviously by the time of the TV show he’s ready to defy Rassilon. But he still has a dangerous and terrible loyalty to Gallifrey.

“She doesn’t appear to be a savage.” Leela encounters one (1) person who views her as a person. 

Ohhh the themes of grief—the meeting hall is the memorial hall, the walls are built to honor the dead. 

“But you leave them behind.” This sounds like an accusation, but I read it differently knowing that Leela has, not so long ago, left her own dead behind when Veega died on Unity. (You didn’t ask for me to keep bringing everything back to Unity, but I’m afraid this is what you’re going to get with me.) And then she left Narvin behind—to die, as far as she knows. So I wonder how much of this comment is an accusation against herself, a desire for someone to justify it, to tell her that leaving the dead behind isn’t dishonoring them. 

“Come, eat.” I’m sorry, I burst out laughing here….I’ve joked before about how Lou Morgan has a running theme of side characters making sure the main characters are fed and rested in her episodes (Nevernor and Dissolution), and although Leela didn’t get a proper rest in this one, she still got a brief respite from Time Lord control, and a side character insisting that she eat. Incredible. I hope the streak continues. 😄 

Why doesn’t Leela try to warn the Fremians as soon as possible? Is it just fear of what the Time Lords will do to her? Is she biding her time to see if she can come up with a plan?

Veklin wants to go back for Leela and not leave her to die, but she would destroy a whole world — a terrible subjective morality.

goddd I love how this episode is in dialogue with Collateral. The plot is so reminiscent of Collateral: Time Lords about to destroy a planet, the people of the world braced to evacuate (for one reason or another), and our main character(s) trying desperately to save people. This episode is an echo and an answer to the despair of Time War 2, a chance to put Leela in the same situation Romana and Narvin were in (sort of), and a chance to write a different ending, and I love it. 

Leela keeps asking questions and testing Argatro’s willingness to trust her. It’s like she’s trying to verify that he does see her as a person, and like she’s testing herself to see that if her honor and morality are still intact. The questions are for herself too: is she worthy of his trust? 

The scene where Leela knows exactly how to push Veklin’s buttons and get her to back off—mmm that’s such an interesting character moment. Leela using words as a weapon, manipulating a Time Lord right back.

If the Fremians at this point in time don’t know about the Time War, I’m not quite sure why they recognize a battle TARDIS and Time Lord armor, but I’m not going to question it too much. 

Three of these stories are about “third option” answers (although only two succeed). And I am !!!!!!! at this running theme—it feels like a natural follow up to the Time War boxsets, which built a literal third option in the form of the Resistance. And now these stories are asking: how do you find a third option when you’re inside the belly of the beast, when you’re being squeezed by the system? Where is the way out? (Yes, there’s a way out.) 

But even when there’s another way, there’s still a cost, and this story doesn’t shy away from that. Leela finds a way to save all the people, but the cost is asking a Fremian to destroy his own heritage, to blow up the land of his people, so it can’t be used against his descendants. That is a devastating thing to ask of someone. 

And specifically, the solution being to destroy the hostage is…..Something. Leela asks Argatro to destroy something so important to him so it can’t be used as leverage to push people into committing atrocities (siding with the Daleks). This is at the same time as Romana is being used as leverage against Leela to try to push her to commit atrocities (on behalf of the Time Lords). If someone asked her to destroy her hostage for the greater good, so she could be free from leverage, could she have done it?  

“You do not lose her. You bury her. With honor.” Blowing up their home as a burial of the dead…..I am yelling inside about @sircarolyn’s post about Leela blowing up her home on Unity. 

oh my god Leela pretending that it’s the trigger for the bomb. “She was testing herself.” enduring the pain of the shock collar, choosing it on her own terms, to save a world. absolute chills. 

The background music in that big ending scene….absolutely losing it, it’s so good!!

“Your precious Romana is gone.” This is an overall boxset thought, but after Time War 3 when I thought Romana might truly have been written out, I wanted a Time War 4 that explored her legacy even after she was gone. But this is the boxset that does that. 

Romana tried to prove in Partisans that there were ways to defeat the Daleks that didn’t involve mass violence, and she failed. Romana tried to save Ysalus in Collateral, and she failed. In the Time War audios (the arc of Time War 2 and 3 in particular), she lost her faith in herself. She blamed herself. She stopped believing her vision for another way could be achieved. 

Leela finds that way. She achieves the objective of thwarting the Daleks without destroying a planet—and gets the Time Lords around her on board with the plan, too. She builds an alliance. Not only is Leela still fighting for Romana—she picks up that faith and vision that Romana lost. 

That vision of other ways to defeat the Daleks, of building alliances rather than slaughtering billions: it lives on. 

Once again, I love how Lou Morgan writes Leela in this episode. She’s angry and passionate and grieving and clever and kind. She resists, she builds new connections, she single-handedly stops the Time Lords from blowing up a world while working for the Time Lords. Lou Morgan lets her be her full brilliant self and feel all the pain of what she’s going through—a fantastic episode. I’ve liked Lou Morgan’s other Gallifrey episodes, but I think this is her best yet. And the best Leela story that Gallifrey has had in a long well. I might go as far as to say call it the best Leela story in all of Gallifrey. 

THE PASSENGER

Gonna say up front: this was my least favorite episode of the boxset. It’s not really exploring the same themes as the other stories, so it feels out of place, and there isn’t any particularly interesting character work—Leela especially is quite sidelined. A disappointment after such a strong opening for the boxset. 

(Not as bad as David Llewellyn’s episode in Time War 4; I wasn’t actively annoyed with this episode. But not as good as his Time War 3 episodes—the second of which was all interesting character work.)

In the Last Days of Freme, Leela’s lack of autonomy was so horrifying, so her not having the collar in this episode is quite a deflation of stakes. To be clear, it definitely makes sense that the General wouldn’t keep the collar around after Leela showed in episode 1 that she was able to endure the pain (and he didn’t like using it anyways). I don’t know how an episode that followed that opening wouldn’t feel less dramatic, and maybe the boxset needed to go smaller so it could build back up again? But still, all of the episodes are more dramatic and more horrifying—the stakes and/or the emotions are bigger.

It’s interesting that the General had enough professional autonomy to take off Leela’s collar, when in the previous episode he was highly concerned about following Ollistra’s orders and staying in her good graces. 

“My name is Leela. I am with Gallifrey.” I’m so used to hearing Leela introduce herself as a “warrior of the Sevateem” that oof, this hurt. How must it feel to have to change even a simple introductory statement to suit the Time Lords? 

It’s not clear what Leela’s long-term plan is, now that she’s been given more freedom. She’s going along with a lot of things—and we know that she wants to get Romana out—but we don’t know if she’s actively trying to pursue that goal. But I get that it would be tricky to establish Leela’s goals and endgame when this is an audio medium, and she doesn’t have anyone around her that she can trust to talk about her true plans to. 

So Leela’s working with other Time Lords in Epsilon squadron—and she goes in on some sort of ship. Have they given her the ability to fly a TARDIS? How would that work? Is it another kind of ship that she’s flying? 

Shades of the Devil You Know in this story—Leela working alongside dangerous Time Lords, trying to get information out of someone with a fractured memory. I was hoping it would be in dialogue with that episode like how The Last Days of Freme was a follow-up to Collateral, but Leela wasn’t central enough in this episode for that to be the case, alas.

Do appreciate the General calling out xenophobic microaggressions, but it’s a change of tone from the first episode? Is it just Leela that he respects?

I was taking notes as I went along, and one of them says “this guy recovers his memory very all of a sudden,” which. pretty suspicious yeah. 

I don’t like that they chose to deviate away from Leela for episode 2 to spend more time with the War Room side characters. This is her boxset, and the character work for her started off so strong.

“I have seen so much, but it feels right that I am here.” — That seems out of character for Leela to say, she’s not happy to be on Gallifrey. 

I’m sorry but it was so obvious that the weapon was going to blow up. Kelgoth’s voice when he’s walking Vibax through “defusing” it had the exact same tone as the main characters did in Renaissance when they were talking to the ambassador in the ship that was already dead. “Keep going, you’re doing great, nothing is about to go wrong, you are not about to blow up and die, nope, totally not.”

Considering Trave was executed in public for the murder of one Time Lord, I assumed Kelgoth would automatically be sentenced to death (although ooh Shada reference!). 

Rasmus is trying to manipulate Leela by invoking the Doctor, but she is not having it.

Fascinating that Rassilon isn’t the involved in this case really—Rasmus has a lot of power to urge transparency via the second interrogation (even though Rassilon might not want that transparency? but we don’t really know what Rassilon would want, he’s very out of the loop). 

Kelgoth is so enraged about the deaths of Time Lords at the hands of Time Lords, but I wonder if he’d feel the same about the Time Lords killing two thousand aliens. He does a terrible thing to prove that lives have value, but it’s always about Time Lord lives. 

Leela: yes the Time Lords are bad, but you still blew up a bunch of people. I can condemn everyone for what they’ve done, actually

“Many years ago you might not have left this room alive.” I wonder when in her life she’s specifically thinking about—when does she think she would have been more willing to kill? Where is her mercy coming from now? Is it from the control the War Room holds over her? Or is she just so tired of bloodshed? 

Again, interesting that Ollistra slash Rasmus get to make the decision about punishment, when for a crime this dramatic, you’d expect Rassilon to be involved. At least they justify why Kelgoth wouldn’t be publicly executed by talking about not wanting the truth to get out. 

“What Rassilon does not know cannot anger him.” As someone who’s lived through the Trump administration, “advisors treading carefully around the President to prevent him from getting angry and doing something dramatic/impulsive” feels a touch too politically relevant, oof. 

Chameleon arch as punishment, that’s an interesting concept—since usually we’ve seen Time Lords use a chameleon arch deliberately, consensually. And it’s alarming how the General intends for it to be worse than death—becoming human and losing all you are as torture. (Velkin and Ollistra defy him of course, which is brutal in a different way. None of them are lenient.)

And ooh is that a new thing, that by erasing something in the Matrix, it erases that information from everyone’s mind? Something else on the list of terrible, creative sci-fi punishments. 

COLLATERAL VICTIM

This is extremely petty but: this is the one truly disappointing title of the bunch. “The Last Days of Freme” and “The First Days of Phaidon” are distinctive! Memorable! “The Passenger” less so, but still distinguishable from other Gallifrey audios, so points for that. But now we have a Gallifrey audio called Collateral and an audio called Collateral Victim. That is up there with the “endless nouns that end in -ion” problem.

I do like the chaos of the cold open—the dynamic between the characters (completely bewildered and a bit out of it vs. serious and intense), the “what???” aspect of “oh the galaxy is being ripped apart, let me take time to explain why.” 

Is it a previously canon thing that the Time Lords are the ones to decide which points are fixed? Because fixed points being a choice of the Time Lords, a way they control history, is 👀

oh my god. the scale of fucked up that the Time Lords are at. destroying a whole galaxy, that’s an incomprehensible crime. (although someone says the word “millions” which is simply not the scale we’re talking about here. add a loooot more zeros to that number.)

Love the misremembering, the small details that shift around them as they speak. I do love a “this isn’t how it happened” kind of story, an exploration of memory. And this goes deeper in a really interesting way—the idea that memory is reality, remembering something decides what’s true. 

“an hour” oh we’re not doing spans and microspans in this episode then 

“You listen as well.” (my note as I was listening was: no Leela don’t fall for flattery, I don’t trust Rasmus)

Ambushing from the past—love how this episode goes “yes this is a Time War, yes we’re going to show that.” 

“I haven’t been yours for quite some time.” This reveal!! I’d been lukewarm about the episode until this point, but this is where it got me. The concepts in this story are so fascinating (I know I keep using that word…..)—a TARDIS gaining sentience and rebelling against the Time Lord, “bigger on the inside” stretched to its extreme…..this story definitely pulled me in in the latter half. 

“They think they’re the smartest beings in all creation, but they’re the last to work it out.” Love the TARDIS/human solidarity here—and love that Leela got it before the others did. 

Love how the earlier comment about “we can’t travel without our time ships” clicks once you Know—they aren’t traveling without a ship! The ship has been with them all along! And the concept of a rebel TARDIS is So Good. 

Super unclear how the Oubliette is being used to change history and not just erase things, but I am willing to handwave things bc I love the ideas this story is playing with. The planet is the chameleon circuit at work! The planet is the TARDIS! The TARDIS is trying to hold and save as much as it can, but the strain is too much. 

“We hide the universe from the Daleks.” — This is so similar to what the ultimate answer to end the Time War is going to be—hiding Gallifrey, the Doctors using their TARDISes to save Gallifrey, just in a different way.

Again, I love this theme of exploring “third options”—showing that they don’t have to resign themselves to only destruction and cruelty, but also not shying away from the costs of those third options (in this case, it wouldn’t have logistically worked, but even if it had—the TARDIS and Time Lords would have been given a terrible amount of power to manipulate the timelines). 

Okay! That was a murder! Damn, Veklin. 

“We have to get to the end.” “Why?” “Because we’re going to change it.” Such a powerful line, and devastating when you know how the story ends. 

An Arc TARDIS—a parallel to the first episode. An arc to save a people, a world, is now “what if we built an arc to save the universe?”

Leela is clutching so hard at the possibility of peace. She has lived at war for so long. 

(The TARDIS is twisting motivations and thoughts, but I assume that only happens when we specifically see the TARDIS rewrite something. In other words: I assume Leela’s advocacy for the Arc TARDIS is her own.)

Rasmus lied about peace, and Leela’s hope for an ally falls apart. (But since she has no one, I get why she’d be really vulnerably to that hope.)

“It simply isn’t practical.” “It is possible. And it is right.” !!!!!!!!!

god he literally had to shoot her to stop her. I’m so glad we’re seeing Leela resist the Time Lords in so many different ways—she’s not always successful, but she tries. 

That last scene is heartbreaking oh my god. The begging, the slow motion horror of it. The destruction can’t be stopped; they were dead from the beginning. Ephra’s desperation hurt, but when she gives in, when she accepts that they’re not surviving…..god I teared up. “I’d never have been born without you.”  The idea that the TARDIS couldn’t save them, not forever, but that the time the TARDIS gave them still mattered—Ephra’s going to die, but she also got to live—goddd this scene. 

THE FIRST DAYS OF PHAIDON 

I’m gonna be honest, my notes for this episode gradually devolve into just quoting bits of the episode and yelling. There will be emojis. 

Immediately yelling at the Eris mention!! I was sad that he wasn’t going to be this boxset, but I’m so glad that they still included him somehow. Really hope he shows up again later, he’s one of the Gallifrey side characters I’m very attached to. And I want so much more of Resistance!Narvin and Co.

Once again, despite this being a new era of Gallifrey, it’s so bound up in the Time War boxsets, and I’m really glad about that! Really interesting that here they chose to circle back to the very beginning of the War by bringing back Phaidon—and directly mirror Celestial Intervention, with the Phaidonians asking for help from Gallifrey. But the scale of the War and the Time Lord atrocities are so much worse than anything that had been conceived when Phaidon was destroyed. Like. Livia was still president then. Romana, Leela, and Narvin got a gentle reprimand for sneaking into the Death Zone. The different government bodies had actual power to vote on things. Calling back to the first episode of the Time War series really drives home how much worse things have gotten since. 

Note: a “time skiff” is something that existed before TARDISes.

Oooh, here Leela does introduce herself as a “warrior of the Sevateem.” A tiny way of reclaiming her identity, no matter how much Gallifrey tries to squash her personhood. 

“Lies are the difference between gaining trust of an ally and throwing it to the dirt.” — This doesn’t feel quite in line with Episode 1; Leela’s already lied to an ally for the greater good.

“Call me Gallifreyan one more time.” That frustration rings true, though. 

So the timeline presumably changed now that Phaidon was yanked away before its total destruction, but it doesn’t change much because Phaidon would still be gone at the time of Celestial Intervention. The events probably played out about the same way.

“Their former president caught my ear when I was a mere attaché to a diplomat. She sought to be our ally and equal.” / “Romana taught us both the same lesson, Acting Commander.” I am simply loving all the mentions of Romana in this boxset, but this episode really explores the idea of Romana’s Legacy—of others who she met or knew choosing to carry forward her hopes for peace. 

The storm’s whispers got my adrenaline pumping so much. “They’re here. She’s here. He’s here. It’s almost time.” was on the edge of my seat for this reunion, oh my god

“She was difficult, headstrong and demanded everyone share her agenda. We fought, though at times she may have slapped me if it weren’t beneath her. For all that, she never lied to me.” — Really love getting this glimpse of how Romana was perceived by someone who wasn’t a friend or an enemy. 

The name of the Ambassador that Commander Daari mentions rings a bell, I think it’s a callback to one of the early series.

One of my notes for Leela and Narvin’s reunion is “they should have hugged.” oh past me, just you wait!!

“My…..Narvin.” Feeling some kind of feelings here ahhhh 🥺🥺Hilarious, sweet, I love them!!!!!

“You blew it up? Ace trained you well.” “I trained her, remember?” my god Leela truly can’t resist teasing him. I love them, I love their friendship, I am going to be yelling about them for most of the rest of this post—

“Together, then.” “Together.” 🥺🥺

Leela and Narvin are much more forgiving of the General than I am. I know it’s all relative, but “a decent sort”? He was really pressing Leela to blow up a planet. That’s a thing that did happen! I get that you take your allies where you can get them when you’re in Leela’s position, but still. although I do like the side plot about the General turning back to help the Phaidonians, “I never could resist a lost cause.” I’ll probably pay more attention to that plot on a re-listen, my brain was just laser-focused on Leela and Narvin and wasn’t paying a lot of attention to anything else happening in this episode. 😅

“Time Lord technology rarely condescends to be too helpful.” oh Narvin, I missed your snark 

For a while, given the talk of a sentient weapon, given that the weapon was testing them for their intentions, I was wondering if it was the Moment. But that doesn’t seem to be the case. 

Finally, some solo Leela/Narvin time!! The parting in Homecoming suffered badly from having an outside party (Livia) there to prevent anyone from being properly emotional, I am glad this episode has grasped the importance of giving main characters alone time to have proper, emotional conversations that carry the full weight of their friendship. 

“Romana is a prisoner of the Matrix.” — Confirmation that her prison is part of the Matrix. also yikes at Narvin hearing it phrased in that specific way, considering this whole war started because he was trying to stop her being a prisoner of the Matrix.

And oh the way Leela says “serve Gallifrey”…..it’s so bitter.

“You must not blame yourself.” “Is it that obvious?” The way she understands instantly what’s going through his mind….the way they’re both blaming themselves for not saving Romana….I am Distraught.

“seventy years, maybe eighty” — holy shit. holy shit. This was the most “gut punch” line of the boxset for me. Seventy to eighty years since Narvin last saw Romana and Leela. Yes that’s not as long to a Time Lord, but I don’t care what Narvin says, it’s still Long. 

I am enjoying the way the storm lists out various descriptions for who Narvin and Romana each are to Leela, and both end with “Your friend. Your —” and then it’s cut off. “My…..Narvin” has similar energy, as does Narvin’s “Romana has always been….Romana. And Leela most certainly has always been Leela.” in response to Rayo asking if they’re like family. Love when these audios have these hints of “we cannot fully put our relationship into words” that also double as “you can read it in a shippy way if you want to.”

“Do not let go of my hand, Narvin.” They’re holding hands. They’re holding hands. I am Feeling Things 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

“We’ll figure it out together.” “Together.” I’m. yeah yeah yeah 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

To be honest, the choice was kind of a let down. I was expecting some sort of great moral dilemma, not “pick between several items.” I feel like there were ways to make “select an item” work as a way to physically represent a Big Choice, but this test didn’t feel like A Big Choice, it felt more like luck. 

It also felt odd that the Daleks forced Leela to choose an item, and then didn’t order her to collect it, so she would be the one to spring the trap instead of them? (Obviously the story couldn’t have that happen bc the Dalek needed to die and Leela needed to survive, but the motivation still feels weird—why have the Dalek risk itself when there’s a human it can use?)

“I’m sorry. Save Romana, Leela.” holy shit, he really did think he was going to die there. Narvin got a taste of self-sacrifice in the last boxset and is continuing to go for it, oof. 

The plot ending feels a bit anti-climatic (they happened to pick right? or they would have been alright whatever they’ve picked because the storm likes them, I’m not sure?). but I do love that they’ve befriended a storm, and I love how baffled Narvin is about it, lol

When Narvin walked into the tent, he put on his CIA Voice for a second, and it threw me—excellent bit of voice acting.

Giving this artifact to Phaidon gives them a lot of power in this War—they have technology that could rival Gallifrey’s or the Daleks’, given time to expand its range and power. And it means they’ve created another safe haven of sorts, like on Micallon. Plus an ally for the Resistance. But I think the safe haven part specifically is crucial—the idea that they’re gradually finding places in the universe where people can hide from the war. Try to live, despite it all. They might not stop the War, but that still matters. 

“We’re all stewards of Romana’s vision. And I won’t pass up this chance for her sake.” Romana’s legacy as a force unto itself in this boxset, the hopes that she lost being carried on by other people, and becoming something real…..yeah yeah yeah!!!!!

oh my godddd the garish arcade machine ship engineered that way by Ace is delightful, this is exactly the kind of flavor I want in my Gallifrey. absolutely adore that even the General drags his ship for looking ridiculous.

“I only like the terrible ones.” Narvin’s failure at being a Time Lord as something to be proud of!! He’s a terrible Time Lord now and that’s the point!! And Leela sounds so fond, I’m feeling things

hhhhh I wonder what the consequences will be of the General knowing that Narvin is alive (Narvin tries to cover that he’s working for the Resistance, but his involvement with the plan to blow up the Vortex in TW4 might be known by certain Time Lords, so this has the potential to get messy in future boxsets)

“and I’d do it all over again. Leela, I—” “I know.” screaming!!!!! not since “I will never betray those I love” have I been so wrecked by a bit of dialogue in Gallifrey!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 that he was about to pour out his heart!! that she tells him she knows, she already knew!! I feel so normal about their relationship!!!

“I also know you want to ask me a question, and you know my answer. I cannot.” “I think I’ve known all along.” “If it was not this way, I would come with you. But Romana only lives while I serve.” yelling!!!!!! I am Distraught!!!!! 

god yes this is exactly the kind of painful parting I wanted from this boxset—she wants to stay with Narvin, but she’s being torn in two because Romana’s life depends on her, Romana needs her more right now. the heartbreak of the dynamic between the three of them right now—one used as leverage against another, two fighting on different sides in a War, one still believing another is dead….I need all three of them to be united and all have emotions at each other at the same intensity or greater as the emotions in this episode, please

“Though we are apart, you are no longer alone, Narvin.” “No. No, I’m not. None of us are.” asdfghjklal;egenuaceauin LOSING IT 

A HUG!!!!!!!!! A HUG AT LAST!!!!!!!!!

so um. in summary: I did like this boxset overall!! episode 2 was my least favorite, episode 3 started weak for me but really drew me in later. episode 1 and episode 4 are tied for favorites I think—ep 1 was just so good on so many levels, but especially re: exploring Leela’s character and letting her shine, and ep 4 was hitting my Deep Emotional Attachment To These Characters’ Friendships feelings. and the themes and resolutions of both of those episodes just really hit me. 

very excited to see where this goes next, now that Leela and Narvin are aware of each other and want to help each other and see each other, but can’t be seen to be meeting or working together 👀👀

#i’m really proud of myself for actually typing all of my thoughts up immediately #to avoid the time war 4 situation of “whoops i’m finally getting around to posting an in-depth write up a year later” #am I gonna regret staying up this late tomorrow? #well. #*regret* might not be the right word #but i’m certainly gonna be tired in the morning #but listen. i have feelings about the blorbos!!!!! #gallifrey audios #gallifrey spoilers #leela #narvin #ramblings #emily listens to big finish

[meowjings-arsb]

#no context #this is related to an oc I’m in the process of making #what do I tag this as #stock photo #I am also once again staying up too late and am gonna regret it in the morning #delete later

[unrequitedloveletter]

reaching the point of exhaustion where words stop wording

#I've slept four hours in total #seven over the past two days #I'll nap when I get home #and then regret that nap when I wake up late #stay up later #and wake up exhausted tomorrow morning #cal talks

[jerriisspeakingnow]

Me: you should be proud of me guys! I’m gonna start a shojo romance for once!

Also me: *sees several TikTok’s with unfamiliar dark haired male* *ends up starting Devils’ Line instead*

………...whoops.

#rant time! #personal #but honestly is anyone surprised?…I’m certainly not (I’m sure my friends won’t be either) #I WILL NEVER CHANGE AHAHAHAAAA #Devils’ Line has me falling for Yuuki Anzai now and GOD I’m internally crying over him #I fell for him in the first two minutes he started talking like SIR SO ASSERTIVE AAHHHHH~ #I’m going to regret staying up late to binge the whole series but oh well #delete later? delete later

[flamingpudding]

His son's children

When Alfred looked into the security video of the front gates, he froze for a moment. Taking in the image of the two children there. One was a tall, red haired girl with a teal headband, confident but with a look of wary in her eyes. Behind the girl was a younger boy, black haired and wearing a NASA shirt, appearing to be reluctant like what they were doing was a bad idea. Alfred's stomach dropped just a little when he saw the boy and his familiar features.

A second later worry flitted accross his face, but still, because of protocol, he asked them for their reason for this surprise visit. No one expected any visitors this late, and Alfred knew if he looked over his shoulder, he would find one of the children snooping, trying to find out who their visitor could be.

Yet when he heard the girls request to see him, not Bruce Wayne, but him, Alfred Pennyworth, his stomach dropped even more. Knowing now for sure that he hadn't seen wrong with the boy's features. He buzzed them in, while his mind remembered old cherished memories of two you black haired toddlers playing together, growing up together until that one day. When he chose to stay and his significant other chose to leave. Sometimes, he wondered if Bruce still remembered the one that could have been a brother to him if things had gone different.

He doesn't regret his decision, but when he looked at the two worn-out children, no his own grandchildren, before him he mourned the fact that he had let his own son become astranged from him and Bruce. Having believed it to be the best with what Bruce had started to get up to.

But maybe it wasn't to late to make amends he thought as the young girl, clearly of the same vibes as Richard, like someone who had grown up to fast and taking on responsibilities that shouldn't be theirs, tried to explain that they won't call him grandpa if it made him uncomfortable and that they would only need a place to stay for a couple of days before they could move on.

Alfred's heart broke for them as he listened to the girls, Jasmine's hurried explanation.

During her explanation, he studied them more closely. Marveling at how much the boy, Daniel, looked like him when he had been younger. But also noticing the clear signs of injury he was trying to hide. He suppressed a huff, years of taking care of his reckless charges and other grandchildren, and their wounds had made him an expert in spotting these things. But it also gave him a sickening feeling. The injuries Daniel tried to hide did not appear like your average kind of injuries.

They were going to stay, Alfred would make sure of it and he would also let Bruce know of his findings. There was clearly more to his grandchildren sudden appearance than Jasmin was willing to explain.

Whatever endangered his grandchildren from his own estranged son. He would ensure that nothing would hurt them ever again.

His granddaughter did not need to list reasons to convince him to let them stay for a couple of days. And his grandson did not need to look this cautious and wary of him like someone was going to attack him any second.

Alfred was going to give them a home if his son couldn't. And if Bruce had a problem with it, he could take it up with his children. Clearly, if he looked over his shoulder at the noisy little ones, all of his other grandchildren could see that these two before him needed a home to stay.

Besides from the looks of it, they would fit right in with this family.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #crossover #dcxdp #alfred pennyworth #jazz fenton #the fentons are about to expirence tha familial love the batfam shares with Alfred #jazz and Danny are Alfreds actual grandchildren #jack is alfreds son who went estranged #the fenton siblings needed help #and a place to temporarily stay #jazz found information on their grandfather #danny still things thats a bad idea #well alfred was not about to let his grandchildren go now that they sought him out #prompt idea #random early morning thoughts #feel free to use

[usedtobecooler]

it’s simple and it goes like this | steve harrington x reader

a/n: thank you in advance to anybody who reads this little labour of love, i’ve had such a great time writing this one and i’m so proud of the finished outcome. title from i’m in love with you by the 1975. 6.1k words.

tw: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+ MINORS DNI, reader uses she/her pronouns and has female anatomy, piv sex, oral f receiving, creampie, soft sex, dirty talk. intoxicated characters, admission of feelings, angst and fluff. characters ages are around mid-late twenties.

summary: turning down a ride from your roommate and brotherly figure, eddie munson, in favor of staying behind at a christmas party ends in you finding an unexpected escape in steve harrington. a drive home and copious amounts of flirting later, the night unfolds in passion and letting out unspoken feelings, leaving you to grapple with the consequences of the choices made.

Staying behind at Jon and Nancy’s Christmas party had been a mistake, and only now, inhaling nicotine into your lungs without a clue on how to get back home, did you realize the weight of this mistake and how badly you wished you could rewind to an hour prior when you had a guaranteed ride.

Eddie offered you a ride home when he was heading out, which you declined immediately. His girl, Heather, really wasn’t overly keen on you, and would do anything to make the journey home as painfully awkward as possible.

You and Eddie had lived together for a few years now, the bond between you both knitting together so tightly, transcending more than just shared rent and somebody to talk to at night. He became your confidant, and you his, finding comfort in each other in a way that could only be described as a sibling bond. As much as you loved him, would do anything for him, he wasn’t for you, and you weren’t for him.

Eddie was just trying to look out for you tonight, be protective in that typical brotherly way, and make sure you got home in one piece.

You mentally kick yourself for being a moron and placing your discomfort at sharing a closed space with his girlfriend above your safety.

Standing outside as the rain starts to pelt down and seep into your skin, you’re regretting your decision. Heather was an ass, but dealing with her for a twenty minute car journey would’ve been favorable over standing outside in freezing temperatures, getting soaked to the bone.

You stub out what’s left of your barely lit cigarette, crushing it under the heavy weight of your Docs. You scan the deserted street for any sign of life, only for whatever forces that are in charge to offer you some form of rectitude — Steve Harrington’s car hums in the distance, lights illuminating the otherwise empty road.

The Beemer rolls up, Steve’s arm flexing as he rolls down the window, “Need a ride?”

Steve’s eyes are hazy, a flash of mischief shining in the dark honey hues — he’d spent the majority of the party with Eddie, the pair of them suddenly the best of friends after years of teenage hatred. He’s so high, you can smell it on his expensive jacket. 

Eddie’s disappointed face flashes through your mind, but the heavy material of your own jacket clings to your body, soaked through from the pelting rain. Fuck what Eddie would think, getting in Steve Harrington’s car beats whatever was going on out here.

“Yeah, thanks,” you mumble, a sharp little smile on your face as you round the car, sliding into the passenger seat. The door slams shut and you’re suddenly cocooned in familiar scents of leather and Steve’s cedarwood cologne. It’s painfully comforting.

The engine roars to life once more, and Steve makes off down the street without another thought. You pretend not to notice how his eyes hardly leave your soaked frame as you drive on.

The car purrs as you drive down the quiet streets, the unspoken tension between you both sizzling as Iron Maiden plays softly from the speakers. Eddie really made sure Steve saw all parts of him when they began hanging out, and Steve took to Eddie’s music tastes painfully quickly. 

“What’s the story then, princess?” Steve grins, finally breaking the silence, “Turning down a ride with Eddie for a nicotine break was a little silly. It’s freezing out there, you’d have caught your death if I hadn’t shown up.”

“My knight in shining armor,” you deadpan, sighing quietly and cringing when you catch yourself being a little rude, “sorry, uh. I didn’t wanna be a third wheel, Heather and I, we don’t get along at all.”

Steve chuckles quietly, “She’s a bitch.” 

“She’s such a bitch,” you agree with enthusiasm, finally turning slightly in your seat to face Steve properly, “I dunno what the hell Eddie sees in her.”

“Big boobs,” Steve shrugs, making a face when you hum in disappointment under your breath, “fair point, though. Can’t blame you for wanting to avoid that situation. Still, I can’t believe he left you there like that.”

There’s a beat of silence, your cheeks flushing hot. Was Steve being protective?

“I saw you dodging advances from a certain somebody tonight,” Steve wiggles his brows, cutting the tension quickly, “what’s the deal? He not doing it for you anymore?” 

You groan, rolling your eyes as you slump back into your seat, “I’m not in the mood for Brad’s games, y’know? He’s so hot and cold.” 

“Games, huh?” Steve grins, eyes landing on you for a moment, flirty and devastatingly attractive, “Maybe you’ve just not found somebody yet who plays the right ones.” 

You flush hot, heart practically beating out of your chest, because this is clearly the weed talking. Steve hadn’t flirted with you since that one time in sophomore year, when you’d come back from Summer break and had blossomed enough for the one and only The Hair to find you worthy of his time.

“Smooth, Harrington,” you choke out eventually, spluttering on your own saliva as you struggle to get the words out, “your list of admirers is endless, do you use that line on all the girls?” 

“Well, maybe I’m looking for somebody who can keep up.” Steve passes a lingering glance over your body, only to look away and avert his eyes back to the road before you can say anything further.

Over the years you had known him, you and Steve had shared stolen glances and cryptic smiles. Gravitating towards each other in Eddie’s absence, but never taking that next step. Steve had a list of conquests, and it pained you to admit every last one hurt to watch – somehow it pained you more to admit how pleased you’d become when each of them left just as fast.

You both knew that these were dangerous waters to tread, how protective Eddie could be over you was enough to have Steve keeping you at arms length, his respect for Eddie was too great to push it further. Yet here you were once again, sharing a confined space and feeling an aura of comfortability that couldn’t just be ignored until it went away.

The rest of the journey passes in silence, and all too soon Steve is pulling onto the dirt track towards the trailer you and Eddie share. The place is still in darkness, and you have to suppress an eye roll – Eddie was hardly ever home overnight now, too used to shacking up with Heather in her apartment in town.

Steve cuts the engine, slapping a hand down on his jean clad thigh, “I’ll walk you to your door, it’s creepy as hell out here in the dark.” 

He shudders for emphasis, and before you can protest and tell him you can manage on your own, he’s out of the car and rounding the trunk to open your door for you.

“Thanks, Steve, you really don’t have to.” You insist, stepping out of the car and internally cringing as your boots squelch in the thick mud where the tyres of Eddie’s van typically embed themselves.

“It’s okay, wouldn’t wanna risk something happening to you,” Steve says, a hand coming out to just barely touch the small of your back as you struggle like bambi on ice in the slippery mud, “here just – just take my hand.”

Steve extends his hand out and you take it with a slight hesitation, your need to make it to the front door without being soaked in rain and mud outweighing the heavy feelings sitting in your chest. 

It’s almost frightening how normal it feels, to have your hand clasped with Steve’s as you walk the short path to the trailer. You don’t want to know what that means, but it feels so nice, the way Steve’s large, warm hand encapsulates your own has your head spinning.

You have to, albeit sadly, let go of Steve to fish in your jacket pocket for a front door key. After a fight with the lock, the door swings open, the warm heat so inviting that you basically barge through the doorway, tugging Steve in with you without thinking.

Steve gawps a little, flounders from where he stands as you lean over his large frame to shut the door behind him, toeing off your shoes like you would any other night. When you finally take a moment to realize what you’ve just done, so casually, you’re suddenly aware of the slight crackle of tension, the magnetic pull of your bodies as you shuffle close together.

You guide him further into the house, flicking on a lamp that’s perched on a nearby table, illuminating the room with a soft, warm glow. Losing your jacket and throwing it haphazardly on a random surface. 

Everything seems to narrow with each step, pulling you both as close together as possible with each passing moment. Neither of you pull away, either, walking as tightly together as you can manage in the small space. 

“You want a drink or something?” You ask, trying to keep yourself as nonchalant as possible, schooling your voice as you cast a sidelong glance at him. 

Steve grins, a glint of mischief in his eyes, as he gently declines the offer with a shake of his head, "As tempting as that sounds, princess, I spotted a little note from Eddie saying he'd be back soon. Wouldn't want to overstay my welcome and have him play a game of twenty questions.”

Your confused gaze follows his where he nods over your shoulder, and sure enough there’s a scribbled out note on the pin board hung up the wall;

BE BACK SOON SWEETHEART, DONT LOCK ME OUT!! 

You really do roll your eyes this time around, mentally sticking the middle finger up at the fucking note. You walk back and lean on the dining table, crossing your arms over your chest. You can’t pretend that you don’t notice Steve’s gaze never leaving your body, watching your every move as you shuffle around. 

He looks disappointed, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. You dare to fix your own stare on him from where you’re perched, can’t ignore how he so naturally hovers towards you despite the rejection. Like he wants to do one thing but is saying another, trying to be the good guy.

Steve was a good guy.

In the closeness, the push and pull between you and Steve becomes devastating. The air is thick with unspoken admissions, and whatever sort of invisible barrier you had between you both begins to fade as you float into each other's space once more. 

With a nod of his head towards the door, Steve finally breaks the silence. "Guess I should get going, huh?" 

The words hang in the air, a question and an invitation, leaving you to decide which it’s going to be. The doorway goes out of focus, blurs as Steve inches closer to you and further from it, the silent tension lingering in the air – an unanswered question.

A soft smile plays on your lips as you respond, "You could stay, you know? We could… hang out." 

You offer with some sort of nonchalance, despite how your heart hammers in your chest, and it hangs with anticipation as you hold his gaze, leaving the choice in the hazy space between lingering and leaving.

Steve sucks in a slow breath, his eyes flickering between yours and the curve of your lips. You shiver visibly, and in that fleeting moment, Steve inches a fraction closer. It's a subtle movement, almost imperceptible, but it speaks volumes.

Up this close, you could really marvel at just how gorgeous Steve is, his tan skin flecked with beauty marks and moles, dotted like constellations. You wanted to connect them all with your tongue, kiss and bite him until he was branded.

“You want to, right?” You breathe, chest heaving slightly, and you forget all about how damp and uncomfortable your clothes are, how when he picked you up you wanted nothing more than to have a hot shower and go to sleep. Now, you want everything but that. You want to see how far Steve will go, you want to know if he wants you as much as you want him.

“Eddie’ll probably be back any minute,” Steve murmurs, those deep set eyes scanning over your entire face, lingering on your lips, and the tip of his tongue peaks out to swipe along his own bottom one, wetting it, “we… we shouldn’t.”

“Yeah, we shouldn’t,” you agree eventually, voice breathy and lacking conviction, entire body vibrating, leaning into Steve just as much as he was leaning into you. Your hands grasp for the edge of the table, grounding you when you need it most, anticipation enough to have your heart hammering in your chest.

“Yeah, we… definitely shouldn’t.” Steve mimics, leans in closer, his hot breath fanning your face. He’s beautiful like this, so close that you’re going cock eyed trying to keep your vision of him clear, but his guard was rarely ever let down around you, and you didn’t want to miss a moment. 

His lips brush against yours, a pained, strangled sound coming from the back of his throat, before he’s diving in for that first mind melting kiss. 

Time stops for a moment, this fiery spark igniting between you both as fierce mouths move against one another, painfully desperate like it’s going to be over too soon, like if you stop it’ll never happen again. 

All inhibition is lost, Steve’s fingertips squeezing into the doughy flesh of your waist, somehow pushing you together even tighter, gripping you with a fierceness as your lips move together. Like he’s staking a claim — mine, mine, mine.

His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, begging for entry silently, which you allow him willingly with a high pitched, contented moan. He’s experimental, swiping the tip of his tongue against your own lightly, lapping until he’s pulling these little noises from you, and it has your core aching. 

The light smacking sounds of moistened lips in an otherwise void room is an almost painful reminder that this was real.

Your shaking fingertips move from the table to grip at the front of Steve’s jacket, desperate hands trying to rip at the material, because a simple kiss was never going to be enough. Now that you had him and knew he wanted you back.

“We can’t,” Steve whines, pitiful against your lips as you struggle to stop, chasing his mouth with your own in a feverish passion as he barely tries to pull back from you, “you keep making these noises, m’not gonna be able to stop.” 

You bring your hands up to cup Steve’s jaw on instinct, without even thinking about it, holding him in place so he can’t fight with himself to get away, “Want it, Steve. I want you,” you breathe, sincere and pleading, guiding him back to kiss you again and he melts into you, “wanted it since the first time you stepped foot in here. Wanted you to want me too.”

“Always fuckin’ wanted you,” Steve mumbles, those soft, fucking perfect lips brushing yours as he speaks, so desperate it’s like he can’t bare to move back any further, “you’re so beautiful, shit. Need you, can I have you?”

You nod without hesitation as Steve's hands tighten on your waist, intensifying the urgency between your bodies. The kiss deepens, a mix of desperation and desire, creating a raw, feral, and unmistakably intimate connection.

Steve's lips become a drug, setting off sparks within you, and the forbidden tension hangs heavy in the air. Breaking away, his admission of always wanting you fuels the flames, and his calloused fingertips trace over your flushed skin as he murmurs, "Wanna do that forever," he murmurs, taking a moment to lock eyes with you, before reconnecting your lips once more.

A desperate groan escapes Steve's chest, a tenor of pent-up emotion. His fingers dig into your waist and jaw, revealing the battle within him – wanting you intensely but also grappling with the fear of irreversible damage. 

Your desperation and passion counteracts his conflicted motions, hands tightly clinging to his jacket, expressing the longing and fire coursing through you. 

Steve's plea transforms into a primal growl as he pulls you closer, creating an animalistic admission of want and yearning, leaving not an inch of space between you, pressing you up so tightly against the table that your ass mounts it properly — you willingly spread your legs for him, allowing him entry so that he can slot between your thighs.

Whatever boundaries you were trying to keep are long gone.

“You’re soaking, baby,” Steve notes, the tip of his tongue swiping along your bottom lip, “you need to get out of these clothes.”

“You think you’re so smooth,” you giggle, the delicate sound pitching into a moan when Steve dips down to mouth at your jaw, “think I’m soaked in more ways than one.” 

Steve grunts against your skin, his teeth grazing against the side of your throat. He rocks his hips into your own, and you have to suppress an embarrassing sound when you feel the half hard outline of his cock press against you. 

“You gonna be a gentleman and take me to my room?” You tease, fingers traveling from Steve’s jacket and up into his hair, nails tangling in the tresses and tugging him closer. You relish in how he finally bites down on your skin properly, determined to mark you as his own.

“What if I wanna do it right here, huh?” Steve mutters, kissing over the raised, abused skin on your neck, “You want that, princess? 

You nod, just once, a deep heat pooling in your gut, and that’s enough to have Steve pulling desperately at your dress. Calloused fingertips slide the spaghetti straps down your shoulders, and you help him take you out of the offending material, shimmying until it pools at your feet.

Steve groans, low in the back of his throat as he takes in your body, now barely covered by a skimpy black thong and a lacy bra. You burn hot under his intense gaze, squealing when his large hands snake under the backs of your thighs, kneading the fat between his fingers as he hoists you back onto the table.

“Can I use my mouth on you?” Steve mumbles, massaging your thighs that you willingly spread open for him once again, a silent invitation.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, moaning when he drops to his knees in one fluid motion, wrapping your legs around his shoulders as he goes. 

One thing that is apparent, is Steve’s love of eye contact. Touching you everywhere his body can reach, and it drives you up the damn wall. His eyes are darkened with lust as he trails hot, wet kisses up the insides of your thighs, pushing your legs apart further so he can slot his broad shoulders in the space.

The anticipation bubbles deep in your gut, cunt fluttering as he dips two fingers into the material of your panties, pulling them to the side to expose you to the warm air. You feel him squeeze you tighter, gaze moving to take in the sight of your slick pussy, ready and waiting for him.

“Mmph, she’s so pretty,” Steve moans, leaning forward in an instant to bury his face into the wetness of your cunt, running his nose over the bump of your clit as his tongue snakes out to taste you, lapping messily. 

“Steve!” You gasp his name, fingers immediately finding home in his honey highlighted tresses, sinking in and tugging lightly, pushing him closer to you.

It spurs him on, those fucking hands squeezing and pulling at the flesh of your inner thighs hard enough to bruise, burying his face into you deeper and grunting like you’re the best thing he ever tasted. He’s messy, lapping up and down the expanse of your core, suckling on your clit with a perfect pressure. 

“Shit, shit,” you’re basically wailing, hips rolling into Steve’s face and he just takes it, lets you guide him with your hands, moving him where you want him to go. 

He never breaks eye contact, watches you with these hazy, pussy drunk eyes as he gives you everything you want and more. Moaning into the heat of your cunt like he’s getting off just as much as you are.

“Keep doing that, m’gonna cum, haa,” you’re babbling, incoherent as your tummy rolls with sheer pleasure, Steve never once letting up on his assault with his tongue.

If anything, your words have him doubling down, pressing in so far you’re not sure he’s even able to breathe. Your orgasm hits you suddenly, violently, has you pulling on Steve’s hair so hard you know his scalp has to be aching, and you finally squeeze your eyes shut tight as you ride it out.

You know you’re gushing for Steve, making a mess of his face with the slickness that spills from your cunt, thighs shaking and locking him in tight in the aftershocks. He doesn’t let up until you’re physically jerking away, fingers running through his hair softly as your hips shudder. 

You’re barely on the same planet, unable to comprehend it when Steve rises from between your legs and kisses you deeply, feeding the taste of yourself to you. You moan, hands coming up to squeeze Steve’s face as you deepen the kiss, swapping spit and rocking against each other. 

It’d be disgusting if it wasn’t so erotic.

“You’re so hot,” Steve moans, pushing into you until the curve of his clothed cock presses tight into the cavern of your soaked cunt, eliciting breathy whines from you both, “need you now, yeah?” 

You nod, and he’s pulling you from the table in an instant.

Clothes scatter along the floor as Steve takes you to the bedroom, practically carrying you like you’re nothing. Neither of you leave an inch of space between each other as you rip his shirt over his head, tugging at the offending leather belt that keeps his jeans in place.

“Off, need them off,” you gasp, finally popping the button and burying your hand into his underwear. Tackiness on your fingertips from where the head of his painfully hard cock has been pressed tightly in the confines of his clothes.

Steve chuckles, pushes his hips into your hand and you finally get to feel him. Hot, hard, heavy in your hand — big enough that your eyes widen, and he’s burying his face in your neck to hide his embarrassment, biting at your shoulder.

“Didn’t get called King Steve for nothing,” he mutters, a red flush on his cheeks that he buries in your skin. 

“The girls weren’t kidding.” you gasp, wrapping your hand around what you can reach and tugging slightly until he’s bucking into your grasp.

You’re pushed through your bedroom door, backs of your knees hitting the end of the bed unexpectedly. You bounce back onto it, pulling Steve with you, a tangle of limbs on an unmade bed that smells vaguely of the vanilla perfume you’d sprayed earlier. 

“Couldn’t let a guy get his pants off first?” Steve grins, pulling back and looking physically wounded as he does it, to shimmy out of the remainder of his clothing.

In the soft lighting, he looks ethereal. The moles and beauty marks are everywhere, branding perfectly tanned skin, a soft tummy that just barely conceals a set of abs. He’s perfect, like a wet dream, and here he is in your room, in your bed, crawling back between your spread thighs.

“You’re so perfect,” Steve sighs, leaning down once again to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his torso rolling into yours as he steals your breath from your lungs.

It’s everything. The way you move together like you know each other's bodies perfectly, touching each other with a familiarity despite this being the first time.

A hand crawls up your inner thigh, and two deft fingers sink into your cunt, crooking up and finding that spot, running against it until you’re arching under his touch.

Your own hand crawls between your dancing bodies, wrapping properly around the length of Steve’s cock, tugging half heartedly until he’s growling into your mouth, his hips punching forward into your touch.

Time passes like molasses, it could be two minutes or twenty, until you’re both gasping and desperate. Not even kissing anymore, just lightly panting with brushing lips. 

“Want it, want you to fuck me now.” You beg, clenching around Steve’s fingers for emphasis, cunt soaked and fluttering, needing more.

Steve nods, sliding his fingers from inside of you, understanding every word and desperate plea. He clasps your hand in his own, bringing them up to rest beside your head in the nest of pillows, “You ready, baby? I’ll take it slow, know I’m a stretch.” 

You nod, any witty remark dying in the back of your throat. The want and hunger for Steve overrides any other feeling, your brain fogged with nothing but him and his body tight against yours.

Steve grasps hold of his cock by the base, head bowing so he can watch as he presses the head snug against your cunt. 

You both inhale a shuddery breath at the same time, and suddenly he’s pushing in — inch by inch filling you out. You whimper, fingers digging into Steve’s, a mewl escaping you as you push up into his torso. 

Steve looks up at you, sincere and checking in, “You okay?” 

“Keep going,” you gasp, hips swiveling.

Steve’s mouth hangs open in a silent moan, watches as his cock slides into your wet pussy like it was made to be there, taking every last inch of him until he’s nestled up against you.

You jolt when the thick thatch of hair nestled at his pubic bone catches on your swollen, throbbing clit. A breathy, panting whine clawing up from your throat.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet, princess. Not gonna last long,” Steve admits pulling out a few inches only to slide right back in, making home, “god, like you were made to take me.” 

You flush at Steve’s words, “You can– you can move properly. Fuck me like you want.” 

“Don’t say that, princess.” Steve whines, fingers gripping your hips, “You let me have what I want and I’ll never let you leave.” 

Your heart beats faster, harder, whole body alight with all these different feelings, tugging at every part of you. 

Full on Steve’s cock and holding his fucking hand. It’s heavenly.

Steve pulls out properly this time, pushing back in and creating a punishing rhythm that has you mewling and spewing out these horribly loud moans and cries for him. The head of his cock nudges at your spot dead-on with each thrust, has you over-stimulated ridiculously fast, it teeters on the right side of painful.

Your fingers dig into Steve’s skin, other hand wrapping around his bicep. A moan escaping you as he dips down to kiss and nibble at your neck, “You’re so big, holy shit. Feels so good, so good.”

“Yeah?” Steve grins at you, cocky and sure of himself and you almost catch a glimpse of the old Steve in it, which somehow makes the entire thing even sexier. One thing Steve Harrington was so sure he was good at was fucking, and you feed into his ego with the way your body reacts to him. 

Sweaty skin slapping against skin, the creaking of your bed frame under the vigorous movements. The pants and cries that flow from your mouth with every hard thrust, the grunts that rattle from deep in Steve’s chest. It’s pure filth, everything you wanted and needed.

“Y-yeah, I— I—” You stutter as your orgasm crescendos, legs wrapping tightly around his waist, heels of your feet digging into the small of his back. Nails breaking skin on Steve’s arm as you shake and shudder through it, body practically vibrating with the sheer force of it. 

“You needed that huh, princess? Needed me to pull that from you?” Steve whispers, a moan leaving him as he fucks you even harder, chasing his own orgasm, “Fuckin’ gripping me, holy fuck.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, unable to stop how your cunt flutters sporadically for him, taking everything he gives you and then some.

“Holy shit, baby,” Steve breathes, fucked out and chest heaving, “m’gonna cum, gonna cum in your perfect little pussy.” 

“Please,” you beg, back arching and somehow pushing Steve in even deeper, eliciting matching moans of pleasure from you both, “please, please.”

“Shit – fuckin’ begging me to cum in you, you’re so perfect, shit.” He grunts, hips slamming into you as he nears the end, thrusts becoming short and snappy, rhythm faltering.

Your nails dig into Steve’s bicep, pushing your nose against his softly, ghosting a kiss over his lips, “Wanna feel you spilling in me, please? Mark me, I’m yours.” 

He moans loudly at your words, the noise so beautiful it’s like music in your ears. You’d almost be smug about being the person to pull it from him, if it weren’t for how fucked out he’d left you.

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, pushing his face into your neck as his body wracks with his orgasm. He grunts into your damp skin, cock pulsing rhythmically inside the fluttering walls of your pussy.

You can feel it so fucking strongly it’s almost hard to breathe.

It’s sticky and messy as Steve untangles his sweaty limbs from your own, landing a gentle kiss on your nose. You flush hot, burning up at how ridiculously domesticated the simple motion is.

He pulls out sloppily, flopping down next to you on the bed and hauling you into his warm embrace. It’s — it’s unexpected, so soft and sweet that you tense for a second only to loosen up and settle your head on his chest.

The air is heavy and warm in the afterglow. Steve's gaze lingers on yours, a moment shared in silence, acknowledging your mutual feelings without a single word. 

You’re leaning up to kiss him again, unable to contain it, when suddenly the bubble is shattered, the bedroom door swinging open abruptly. 

Eddie stands in the doorway, his features screwed up with a mixture of shock and anger.

"Steve, what the hell?" Eddie's scratchy voice cuts through the stillness, his eyes narrowing as they dart between you and Steve. Steve bolts upright, panicked and caught off guard, shifting uncomfortably under Eddie's intense gaze.

"Eddie, I can explain," you begin, panic rising in your chest as you sit up and pull the sheets closer around you. The atmosphere suddenly becomes charged with tension, and Eddie's expression tightens further.

"Explain? Explain what, exactly?! That my best friend is in bed with my-my – dammit dude, she’s like a sister to me! What the hell?!" Eddie's tone is sharp, a mix of disbelief and fury. Steve runs a hand through his disheveled hair, clearly searching for words that could help calm the escalating situation.

"Eddie, it just happened. We didn't plan—" Steve starts, but Eddie interrupts with a held up ringed hand.

Neither of you push it any further, words dying in both of your throats at such a simple movement. You’re so far apart by now that Steve is basically hanging off the edge of the bed, and you can’t help the way your heart feels fucking heavy with it.

"I don't care. This is not okay. I told you not to touch her, Steve. She’s not a girl to play with." Eddie's disappointment is palpable, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

The room is filled with a devastating silence, broken only by echoes of Eddie's anger and the heavy weight of his boots shuffling along the hard floor as he walks away. The trailer door slams shut so hard that the entire shell ricochets with the force. 

It all becomes so painful once Steve hauls himself off of the bed, frantically throwing on every strewn article of clothing that he’d shed just hours earlier, his head bowed like he can’t even bear to look at you. Like he’s scared and doesn’t want to face up to everything that happened.

You can’t even blame him. 

“Steve, wait,” you start, vision blurring at the edges as panic starts to set in, grappling to come to terms with the fact this was all going to be over, “don’t listen to him. He’s wrong, I know you – you don’t. You don’t do that anymore, you wouldn’t do that to me.”

“No he – he’s right,” Steve’s eyes reflect with sadness, the weight of his words lying deep in the pit of your stomach, “I have a reputation. We all know that. He’s trying to protect you, his heart is in the right place.” 

“But Steve-” 

“Eddie’s right, princess. There’s something there, I know it. But,” Steve sighs, shaking his head, “if this doesn’t work out I lose you and him. I can’t risk not having you both.” 

“Steve, will you listen to me, please?” You plead, clambering in a moment of panic to get off of the bed, sheet still wrapped firmly around your naked frame. You shuffle over ungracefully, until you’re standing toe to toe with him, “I like you. You felt it like I felt it. I– I want this.” 

You can almost see Steve’s internal struggle, the way his face crumples once he catches your teary eyes with his own devastated hues. His hands itch at his sides, and then suddenly those strong arms are wrapping around you, pulling you into his orbit and lifting you onto your tiptoes.

You wrap your arms around his middle, fingers grasping at the stretched material of his shirt, clinging on for dear life, "Steve, I really fucking like you, and I can't stand by and watch you walk away from this because of some misplaced sense of loyalty.” 

Steve’s chin rests atop your head, and you feel every bit of the deep sigh he lets out, “You trust me too much, like you know I’m not going to fuck up. I wish I could trust myself even half as much.”

Your reaction is immediate, frustration bubbling up inside of you as you listen to Steve talk down on himself, “You’ll never hurt me. You’re not some ticking time bomb just waiting to ruin everything. Allow yourself the courtesy of taking what you want and letting yourself fuck up. I’m strong enough to handle it.”

“I’ve messed up so many times in the past that I’m scared I’ll hurt you without meaning to,” Steve winces, clinging to you even tighter, cocooning you in his embrace, “I couldn’t live with myself if I did that shit.” 

You pull away slightly, bringing a hand up to cup his jaw, forcing him to face you and really soak in every word you say, “You’re fucking human, Steve. I’m not asking you to be perfect.”

Steve’s face etches with vulnerability, those damned eyes filled with hurt, but his body relaxes slightly, acknowledging what you’re trying to say, “You’re perfect.” 

Your stomach lurches, heart hammering where it sits beneath your ribcage, this pathetic grin taking over, “I promise you, I’m not. Wait until you realize just how many flaws I have — like being so terrible at cooking that I burn toast.”

Steve lets out a snort, eyes crinkling in the corners, fondness washing over him, “I’ll teach you,” he mumbles, leaning in a little, “if you’ll teach me something in return.” 

“Anything.” You breathe, pushing up to bridge the gap. Your noses brush, Steve’s hands gripping onto the soft flesh of your waist a little firmer.

Steve grins, mischievous, “Teach me how to have patience. I’ve been told it’s a virtue I’m seriously lacking, Dustin rags on me all the time about it.”

You let out a soft laugh, the tension from earlier dissipating in an instant, "Patience it is, though I’m not sure how much of it I even have. And you better be ready for some burnt toast along the way."

Steve chuckles, a low, melodic sound that sends shivers down your spine, "I think I can handle that."

He bridges the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours and sealing the agreement.

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #my fanfic #mine #x reader

[notmyneighbor]

Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 10

Word Count ~ 5k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ fluff and smut

Also available on AO3

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

taglist ~ @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02 @msdevil333 @rrnrjn @maskedpacific @yoongiwantsme @that-0ne-simp @kaislashes @charli33-b33 @finalitgirl @kawaiichookie @vexillum-moeru @blackcurrant28 @r4yyyyy @dazedin2d @mrsspector-grant

Monday morning comes all too soon.

You’d stayed up later than you’d intended. Talking about the wedding. You’d agreed on an outdoor ceremony. To be held in late autumn, maybe. Still nothing definite. Baby names. This still unresolved. You think you’d fallen asleep mid debate.

Your doppelgänger has to get up even earlier on mornings when he stays at the farmhouse.

He’s insisted you sleep in before but you never do. You don’t want to miss any time being with him. It was worth missing sleep. Maybe you’d have matching shadows under your eyes.

You smile sleepily at him. It’s still dark but you can sense he’s awake, looking at you. You reach blindly for his face. He turns it, kissing your palm, his hand covering yours.

“I love you,” you greet him. You can’t say it enough.

“I love you, too.” A little regretful sigh before leaving the bed. The sounds of him getting ready in the bathroom, less obvious as you make your way downstairs and get coffee going. The sky is gradually lightening now. You can see some small wild brown rabbits through the kitchen window, rummaging near the bushes for breakfast before heading back to the burrow. You watch them scamper and forage while you prepare your own breakfast, scrambled eggs and toast to accompany the coffee.

An arm wraps around your shoulders, drawing you backwards. You can smell soap and shampoo and aftershave. He’s gotten better at the routine. Getting ready faster. Or maybe just rushing to steal a few more of these moments with you.

You lean against the doppelgänger, your head dropping back as his lips find your neck, then brush the shell of your ear. The smell of the coffee and cooked food permeates the kitchen. Warm kisses before the warm liquid slips down your throat after your first caffeinated sip.

The same words are spoken each morning before he steps into the delivery truck. I love you. Be safe.

The familiar ache is present before he’s even left the driveway. You miss him already. You worry for him. The rising sun kisses the dew on the lawn. You wrap your bathrobe tighter around your waist and head back up the steps of the porch.

***

Today is the day you’re introducing your fiancé to your parents.

You’re not sure which of you is more nervous as you drive to their house.

“What if your father says I can’t marry you?” Francis’ copy inquires anxiously, not for the first time, his fingers twisting restlessly in his lap until you reach for his hand, clutching it tightly.

“He won’t. I told you, it’s just a formality. A cultural politeness,” you reassure him. Still unsure of how this meeting is going to go. You’re going to be lying to your parents, after all. Telling them you’re marrying a human resident of the building you guard, knowing full well he’s really an alien. “We’ll get through this, love. Last thing before we move in together.”

A crooked little smile at this reminder. Still nervous. Your mouth brushes his knuckles before you return your attention to the road. Not as much traffic on a weekend morning.

“I’m surprised they don’t live in the building you work at.”

“There weren’t any vacancies or else they might have. There’s quite a waiting list to get into a DDD guarded building.”

“Meaning my apartment will be in demand once I move out.”

“Yes.” You sigh. “I’ll missing seeing you there. But then, I’ll have you at home, so, it’s a fair trade off.”

“Making you get up extra early five days a week.”

“Worth it.”

Another smile, this one sturdier. He was relaxing a little. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You’ve arrived at your destination. A brick and mortar home close to downtown. The narrow strip of lawn immaculately kept. Window boxes full of flowers. Your mother is watching your approach through the screen door, unable to wait any longer, hurrying down the trio of cement stairs and wrapping her arms around you. It had been several months since your last visit. You really should come more often.

Maybe you would, now. With a grandchild in tow, one day.

She steps back to inspect you. Looking you over, making sure you were healthy, eating properly. Remarking on the color in your cheeks which only heightens it further. You introduce your partner to her, noticing your father still hovering in the background, near the stairs.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Francis’ copy closes the distance and holds out a hand and you beam with pride. You’d rehearsed this. Your dad looks stern, but that’s just his way. He accepts the offering, his eyes boring into your fiancé’s. Did he suspect? He couldn’t possibly.

“Well, come on in. We’ve got lunch ready for you,” he invites, and you sigh inwardly with relief. So far, so good.

“Your young man is so handsome,” your mother murmurs as you ascend the stairs. You nod, holding the door open for her. You can hear your beau talking to your father in the dining room. Your dad was definitely a sports fan, and you knew for a fact neither Francis nor his doppel followed any pastimes. Hopefully they’d found some neutral pleasantries to converse about.

“Let me help you in the kitchen, Mom.” She accepts, leading you into the room. Smaller than your own, necessary with these inner city dwellings. Everything was more compact. Efficient. “New wallpaper?” You observe, noting the previous floral pattern has been exchanged for a linear print.

“Yes, last month. Very contemporary.” You grab a pair of potholders and remove a casserole from the oven while she begins unloading side dishes onto the plates.

“That’s a lovely ring, dear. He must have saved up quite a lot for that.”

“Yes, it’s pretty, isn’t it?” You pause to admire the engagement solitaire you’re wearing. “Francis always lived quite frugally. Lives quite frugally,” you correct hurriedly.

“Well, nothing wrong with being sensible when it comes to finances. Your father will appreciate that sentiment.”

“Do you think they’re okay in there?” You gaze in the direction of the open doorway that leads to the dining room. You still can’t quite make out what they’re saying.

“Oh, I’m sure your Francis is doing just fine. Don’t worry.”

You finish helping her fill the plates and then lift two, carrying them into the other room. Your father is seated directly across from your fiancé. Talking about the apartments. News. The war effort. You dart an anxious glance at the doppel but he’s doing well, keeping his voice neutral, answering everything politely. You can tell he’s relieved to see you, though, the second you enter the room his eyes lighting on yours.

“Here we are. Now, Francis—do you go by Francis? Not Frank, or…?”

“Francis is fine, ma’am.”

“Francis, we’re not shy about eating a good meal. There are seconds if you want them, just ask.”

“Thank you.”

You sit next to your doppel and your mother settles across from you. “Um, before we dig in, Francis would like to say Grace.” Your parents weren’t devout, but they respected the faith well enough. It had been a constant practice before every meal you’d sat down to with the milkman’s copy.

“Oh, certainly.” Your mother bows her head, and you see a faint flicker of something—maybe approval?—in your father’s eyes before he follows suit.

The simple prayer completed, you find yourself demolishing the contents on your plate with enthusiasm. Nothing ever beats your mother’s cooking. You’ve missed it.

The conversation flows well, with only a few pauses here and there. You appreciate the fact that your mother keeps drawing the invader back into the discussion, making sure he feels involved, a welcome participant.

Your father is still a little reserved, much of the communication done with his eyes. Intently regarding your beau. Studying him. You abandon the napkin draped on your lap and reach for the pretender’s thigh to reassure him, squeezing lightly. He squeezes your hand back.

By the time dessert arrives—you’re suddenly wishing you hadn’t stuffed yourself quite so full, you should have left room, because who could say no to homemade apple pie?—you can see your fiancé is anxious to ask the question he’s wanted to all along, shifting a little restlessly in his seat, the fork sinking into the sugared crust forgotten.

“Sir, I’d like to ask your permission for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

The room goes quiet, the movement of cutlery on porcelain still. “You’re going to provide for my girl?”

“Yes, sir.”

“She’s special. She deserves the best.”

“I agree. I swear to you I will do everything in my power to care for her and make her happy.”

Another pause. You’re holding your breath. Your mother is staring at your father, worrying her bottom lip.

“Well, I can’t ask for more than that. You have my permission.”

A collective sigh of relief from the guests at the table. Your mother’s hands clasp, her eyes shining. You press your lips against the doppel’s shoulder. He’d passed. You’d done it. You manage to clear your plate, offering to help your mother with the dishes.

“I like your Francis. He’s a fine young man. Respectful. Hard working. Maybe a little too hard working. The boy looks a little in want of sleep. Or is that your doing?”

“Mom!” You gasp, and she nudges your arm.

“I’m only teasing. But he’s a good man. He’s got your father’s approval, and you know that isn’t easy. Have you thought about a date yet?”

“We were actually thinking about the fall.”

“This fall? 1955?”

“Yes.” You finish lathering a plate with soap and rinse it, setting it on the rack to dry.

“That’s a little soon. You’re not…you know…”

“No, Mom. Not yet.”

“You know I’ve been wanting grandchildren. I know your career is important to you, but you should indulge in a domestic life. Stay home and raise a family. It would make me feel better not having you facing those horrible doppels day in and day out.”

“I want to help people, Mom. So others can have that kind of life. But I would take time off for a baby.”

“Only one?”

“Francis wants several.”

“I wish your father had,” she mutters, the dish sponge squeaking against the inside of a glass. “I’m with your young man on this. The more the merrier, provided you’re doing alright financially. Fill the house, dear. You won’t regret it. It will be the happiest time of your life.” She kisses your cheek. “That’s the last of the dishes. Let’s go find out what our men are up to.”

Your men, as it turns out, are outside in the front yard. Your father sounded like he was giving tips on lawn care. Poor Francis.

“Hey.” You slide your arm through the doppel’s, coming to your fiancé’s rescue. “We’re all done in the kitchen, if you’re ready to head out.”

He nods, shaking your father’s hand, then returning the hug your mother offers before heading to the car. You embrace your parents again, your mother already on her way back inside after bidding you farewell while your father lingers by your side.

“You like him, Dad?”

“He’s different, that one. Something about him…”

A little surge of alarm runs through you. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Just something,” he murmurs thoughtfully, then shakes himself. “One thing’s for certain, though: he’s crazy about you.”

“He is, Dad. And I feel the same way about him.”

“Keep us posted when you set a date. You be careful with those doppels.” His lips graze your forehead and then he retreats indoors.

You settle behind the wheel, glancing over at your fiancé. “What do you think?”

“I think that was stressful, but overall it went well. What did your father say to you just now?”

“That he could see you’re crazy about me.” You lean over and kiss him. “Want to go home and celebrate?”

“Yes. Maybe wait a bit, though. That was a lot of food.”

“My mom always fills the plates like that,” you agree, starting the engine. “You did great today. I’m really proud of you. Really happy.”

“I’m glad, sweet girl. Me too.”

“Okay. Let’s go home.”

***

There’s an advertisement for an event the following weekend sitting on the kitchen table.

The paper had been folded and tucked into the doppel’s work pants, retrieved when you’d been gathering a load of laundry together.

“I forgot about that,” he murmurs apologetically, kissing the patch of skin behind your ear, making you shiver. “It’s a dance. I didn’t know if you wanted to go. Someone on my route gave it to me.”

Social gatherings were few and far between. Dangerous, these days. You generally avoided them.

It’s tempting, though. You’re conflicted again. Wanting to go out with your beau, being afraid of discovery.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Do you have to do the washing right now, or can we…?”

“We can.” You set the basket down and turn in his arms. His hands slide down your back, then shift to stroke over your hips.

“My beautiful girl.” His lips touch yours.

“My handsome doppel.” You return the gesture, your fingers carding through the hair curling at the nape of his neck. He needed another trim.

“Come upstairs with me.”

You follow him eagerly. He pauses midway through unbuttoning his shirt to cup your face between his hands, kissing you. He’s forgotten to undo his shirt cuffs, the sleeves still clinging when he tries to shed the garment. You come to his rescue and he stops you for another kiss. Little by little the clothing piles onto the floor.

Neither of you has switched the bedside lamp on. It’s just the two of you in the darkness. The moon is hiding tonight.

“I love you so much,” he breathes into your ear as he enters you.

“I love you.�� You wrap your legs around him tightly, rocking up against him. Gentle movements. Filling you. Withdrawing. Stretched again. Plunging deep. The place where he ends meeting the place where you begin.

“Is it wrong to pray? To ask for something, is it so different than the words we recite before meals, these ones from the heart, will He answer me, a monster…” He whispers against your skin, your hair, musings you’ve mulled over yourself, surely he deserved it, if any did, you know what he wants, what you want, too.

“Ask, love. Ask, I’ll ask too, Francis…”

“Please…” His hips drive against yours. Sheathed faster. Impaled and then not, in rapid succession. His mouth is rough on yours, sliding sloppily off the edges, words half uttered, some in that strange native language of his.

Inside. Pressure. Contractions. An echoing pulse. Liquid heat. Your nails digging into his shoulder. His teeth scraping your throat. Filling you. Breathless kisses before the calm.

***

You don’t typically make small talk with the residents.

There’s always a kind of tension between you, their fates resting in your hands. You were trained to be professionally detached, but that obviously had failed in Francis’ case. Still, you’re gradually warming up to some of the others. The happiness of your relationship making words tumble free easier. Today it is the physicist at your window, Dr. Afton. He adjusts his glasses with a long practiced gesture, shoving them back up the bridge of his nose as you examine his ID and entry request. He is listed for the day and everything checks out. A quick call to his fiancée confirms what you already know. He’s legit. The real deal.

“Have you and Mia set a date yet?” You slide his documents back towards him through the slot.

“Spring, I think. You and Francis?”

“Autumn, maybe.”

“So soon,” he murmurs. His eyes flick down for the briefest of moments and you don’t misunderstand the significance.

“Oh, no, I’m not…I mean, we’re trying, but…” You flush heavily as you stammer. Your attempt at small talk was seemingly backfiring. Maybe it was best to just keep things professional after all. “Anyway, have a good rest of your day.”

The doctor stands looking at you expectantly. “The door?” He prompts gently.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” You hastily operate the door controls and the man leaves the entryway.

Your next attendant makes your face break out in a grin. Your beau has returned.

The replicant milkman deposits his required documents into the slot, grinning back at you. There’s an extra slip of paper there, something torn off his delivery list on the clipboard, perhaps.

I love you

You mouth it back at him. He lays a hand on the window. You match your palm to his, dwarfed by the larger structure.

“How was your day?”

“I made an ass out of myself in front of Afton, but yeah, good. You?”

“Not bad. Can I come in?”

“Uh-huh.” You press the buzzer. Your fiancé doesn’t take the elevator like you’d expected, instead invading the security booth.

“Sir, this is for DDD staff only,” you mock protest.

“Does it count if I’m going to be married to a DDD staff member?”

“Mmm, I’m not sure.” You’re about to step closer to him when you hear someone entering the building. A middle aged man you don’t recognize wearing a suit. The same DDD enameled pin on his lapel. You hurriedly take the papers and ID he offers while the doppelgänger takes a step back, still out of view of the window, near the open doorway.

“I’ll need to call to verify your identity,” you remark. You don’t get visits from personnel other than the cleaners that often, and if you do, you usually get notified first. The man’s face is expressionless. He nods and you proceed, dialing the number of the headquarters.

“Good afternoon. I have someone here from the R&D department. I wasn’t expecting…I see. Alright. Yes, thank you.” You hang up the phone. “They’ve vouched for you. What brings you here today?”

“Something that will revolutionize the screening process, we’re hoping.” He sets a briefcase down on the narrow ledge of the counter, using a key on a cord around one wrist to unlock it before thumbing the latches and opening the case. He lifts an object and places it on the ledge before shutting and removing the briefcase. “This device here emits a frequency that the doppels can’t resist. It forces them to come out of hiding, as it were.”

“How do you know?” You can see your doppel’s body tense in your peripheral vision.

“Oh, a little project we’ve been working on. Sometimes the cleaners bring us gifts. We don’t always exterminate…but I suppose you wouldn’t know that, once the screen goes down. Well, in any case, they’ve made for good lab rats. It’s taken us awhile, but I think this just might be what we need to turn the tide and gain the upper hand.”

“You’ve been experimenting on them,” you whisper, unable to keep the revulsion and horror out of your voice.

“Why not? It’s not like they haven’t taken their own POWs from our side.”

The urge to glance at your fiancé to confirm the truth of this is overwhelming but you resist. “Why would they want to keep us prisoner?”

“I’m sure something unsavory. Food supply. Experiments. Who can say? Disgusting creatures. But I don’t need to tell you about that. You encounter them on a daily basis. A nearly perfect record too, I hear. Only one…mishap.” He grins. His teeth are yellow. You find yourself disliking the man more and more.

“No one was hurt,” you say defensively.

“Thank goodness. Now, to the task at hand. This device is extremely simple to use. It’s already calibrated to the correct frequency. No need to adjust. Simply flip the switch. Undetectable to human ears. But very effective for the doppels. They’ll reveal their true form within seconds. Then it’s just a matter of calling the disposal team. Just think of the applications this will have once this gets approved for mass production. No more fear of the unknown. No more doubts. The ultimate weapon of retaliation.”

Your stomach turns with every sentence he utters. There would be no hiding for Francis. For the baby you would one day conceive. All of the happiness you’d felt earlier evaporates. You grip the edge of the counter as he demonstrates the switch to turn the device on and activate the frequency.

You hear the creak of the wood when the doppelgänger grips the door frame.

“Yes, I see, easy to use. Better conserve the battery, right?” You finally surrender to the impulse to glance over at the invader. His chest is heaving, his teeth razor sharp. Bloodshot eyes that plead with you, the familiar shimmer outlining his true, hidden form appearing.

“That is one of the drawbacks, yes. We’re still working on a more reliable power source.” He flips the switch off and you can’t help but sigh loudly in relief. “I’ve been instructed to tell you that you’re to use it only in cases when there is any doubt. You’ll still be performing the standard screening procedures. But if this has the results that I expect it will, I’m certain this will become the new industry standard. And give us the advantage at last. I’ll be collecting this after a one week trial. I’ll have a questionnaire for you to fill out after you’ve tested it out.”

“Of course.” You plaster a smile on your features, willing the man to leave.

“Shall I bring it to you, or…?”

“No, company policy prohibits anyone from entering the booth that’s not authorized. Technically you haven’t been, so…”

“Quite right. Well, I leave it in your capable hands, then.” The briefcase in hand, he turns and exits the building.

You immediately turn to see Francis’ clone sweating profusely, still struggling to return to human form.

“Francis! Are you alright? Love, it’s okay, I’m here.” Your hands cup the intruder’s face, disregarding the dangerous rows of cuspids stretched wide, peering into the crimson streaked eyes.

He shudders, his hands—claws—closing over your wrists. You’ve never seen him have this much difficulty. What was that evil frequency the scientists had discovered?

“Francis, it’s me. Come back to me, love. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Another violent tremor. Then his grip on you lessens, his eyes clearing, the haze dissipating. The facial features rearrange to form the familiar ones of the milkman.

“Sweetheart,” he manages, his breathing still ragged.

“Yes, Francis. You’re okay.” You wrap your arms around him and he squeezes you tightly.

“The pain, love. You can’t imagine. We have to destroy that. We can’t…”

“We’ll think of something. Tamper with it. Lie about it’s effectiveness. I don’t know. Something.” As wondrous as it would be to have access to technology like that, you couldn’t risk its use for your doppel’s sake. For your future children’s. “I didn’t know they were experimenting on…is it true, what he said? Have the invaders been taking humans prisoner?”

He releases you. “Not my squadron, I promise you that. But yes. It’s true.” He draws in a shaky breath. “I know I said in the beginning I wanted to experiment…now, I would never condone…”

“I know. I know you.” You retrieve the device, deciding to store it in the lockbox under the desk for now. Francis’ doppel gives you a wide berth as you walk around the booth carrying it, backing away as you make the corner. “You should go upstairs and rest. My shift will be done soon.” He nods, still looking shaken. You embrace him again, watching as he steps onto the elevator, then your eyes flick to the lockbox.

A new complication that you didn’t need.

***

Francis Mosses’ apartment is silent that afternoon when you enter.

No record rotating on the player. No meal being prepared on the stove. There is just the doppel seated on the couch, the crocheted blanket draped over the cushions behind him. He hasn’t even removed his work uniform, except for the cap which is resting on the coffee table. He hadn’t locked the door or risen to greet you at it, his tired eyes shifting to watch as you sit next to him.

“Francis, are you feeling alright?” You’re wondering if the device didn’t have some lingering ill effects.

“Fatigued. I’ll be alright. I’m sorry I didn’t get the door for you. I’m still…” He holds out a hand that tremors as if with palsy. You’ve never seen him this ghostly pale.

“Do you have any appetite at all? Should I fix us something, or…?”

“Just stay with me, love.”

You snuggle closer to him, slipping off your shoes and drawing your knees up, tucking your stockinged feet to one side, your fingers stroking his forearm. You’re suddenly feeling tired yourself, the rush of adrenaline from earlier now leaving you feeling sapped of energy. There was a nice breeze coming in through the living room window. Your lover’s arm curls around you. You fall asleep.

It’s dark when you awaken.

You’re disoriented, blinking away the vestiges of a dream you don’t recall the details of. Francis’ doppel is cuddling you. Awake. You can tell by the rhythm of his breathing.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

“We both needed the rest.” His lips press against your hair.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. Physically, anyway. Mentally…I’m worried.”

“I know. Me too. We’ll figure something out, Francis.” You reach out blindly to find his hand. “Want to do something improper like skip to dessert and have cookies and milk in bed and forget everything for a bit?”

“Hmmm. Are you included in that menu?”

“I can be.”

“Then it’s a deal. Shower first?”

“Definitely.”

His lips touch your forehead. “You always make everything better.”

You’re more concerned than you’re letting on. But you don’t want to focus on that right now. You want the doppel to feel safe, secure. Enjoy the peace you’ve found together for tonight.

You feel him leaning away from you, reaching for the lamp. His condition does appear to have improved from earlier. Healthy color returned. Hands steady. You dig around in the drawer where you’ve stored some spare pajamas while he turns the shower on.

“Don’t fuss too much on what you’re wearing. It won’t be staying on.”

Oh, he was definitely feeling better. “Maybe I’ll just skip it entirely.”

“Now we’re talking.”

You strip off your work clothes, your fiancé already halfway undressed, finishing that task now and leading your into the deluge of warm water. You take a moment to soak your hair, then switch places so Francis’ copy can do the same.

You grab the bar of soap from the shallow ledge on the wall and begin lathering your hands together, working up a cloud of suds that you quickly smear across the cloned milkman’s chest. You take turns washing each other, hands lingering when they reach nipples, buttocks, between legs. You’re pushed gently back against the shower wall, the soap slipping from your grasp. The doppel cups his hands beneath the spray, splashing it over your body, making sure you’re rinsed, lifting one leg and guiding it to rest on the edge of the tub while he kneels down, blinking water out of his eyes, his damp fingers now working against your sex, followed by his tongue, sucking a mouthful of shower water and your clit in one go. You moan, raking your fingers through his damp dark hair, marveling at the feel of that frenzied muscle dividing your nether lips, plunging inside and then swirling around your clit.

You’re thinking of that alien cock of his, the one you’d mostly felt more than saw, and you suddenly crave the feeling of it again. You won’t dare ask him for that tonight, not after what had happened earlier when he’d been forced out of hiding, but another time, you want that in your mouth, back inside of you, fucking you missionary style, driving in deeply. You’re already swollen, dripping, that slick liquid thicker than the water pelting your bodies, a trail he follows with lips and tongue and even teeth, nipping at the soft skin of your inner thighs, the arc of one hip, the crest of your mound before he’s sucking your bud again. He’s leaning into you, offering you a chance to rest some of your body weight, the raised leg shaking as you find a swift release, bursting on his tongue, ripened hive spilling creamy honey before you’re rinsed clean.

He shuts the shower off and you’re barely swiped with a towel before he’s pushing you down into the bed, picking right up where he left off, sliding his erection into the place his tongue and fingers have just vacated.

“What do you want, sweetheart? Tell me, I’ll do anything you want.”

Catering to you. You feel you should be the one making the offer. “I’m yours. I love everything with you. You decide. This is nice. This is…oh…good.” He’s picked up the pace, droplet covered hips kissing yours over and over. The shower water still clinging to him drips from his hair, splashing your forehead, your cheeks, your lips. You think of kissing him that day it rained on your front porch, already falling so fast, so far, Francis the bridge but the doppel the destination, it didn’t feel wrong, it couldn’t, when it was like this between you.

“Sweet girl, you’re so perfect for me.” A word you don’t know, but the tone is in the same vein, affection, lust, breathed beside your cheek, moaned against your throat.

“I want to learn it. All of it. Starting with your name. I love you.” The words are pushed into the mouth that closes over yours, hot breath, that thick cock of his incessantly drumming inside of your womb. You’re lost in the dark of his eyes, in that blissful realm he drags you back into, your body shattering around him, milking him, urging to be mated, claimed, marked as his. He calls you something that sounds almost like wife and you nearly are, bonded to this foreigner that’s crossed galaxies and mapped stars to build a new universe within you, starting with this, that sowed seed, fingers interwoven, cock buried deep, face burrowed in the curve of neck damp from the strands of hair clinging there.

After there is cold milk from the fridge and chocolate chip cookies, melting sweet on your tongue as Francis’ doppel holds you against him, licking at the stray sweet granules clinging to your lips. “Your first lesson,” he begins, and it is him speaking now, the invader beneath, that deeper voice stirring interest in your loins again already, twice sated but still eager for more. “My name is…”

#francis mosses #milkman #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman x reader #milkman x you #thats not my neighbor #the milkman #doppelganger #that’s not my neighbor

[honkytonk-hangman]

Good In Bed

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake has made it crystal clear to you that you're only friends with benefits, so why did he go and delete your dating apps?

Warnings: brief mentions of smut but not smutty, jake kinda being an asshole, reader getting upset and yelling at him, fluff ending all the way baybay

Notes: u have no clue how much i love u @roleycoleyland for literally being the reason this got finished &lt;;3 <;3 <3 title from Good In Bed by Dua Lipa <3

Masterlist

Jake pumps his hips hard into yours one final time, before he at last collapses beside you, chest sweaty and heaving, his eyes closed and his face raised to the ceiling. Your position had shifted from the pure force of your fucking, and somehow your head had fallen off the side of his bed, leaving you hanging slightly as you too try to catch your breath.

“Damn, I’ve missed this,” he says a short time later, shifting himself fully out from between your legs, and tucking his hands behind his head, the afterglow of a good lay lingering on him beautifully. Once upon a time his words might’ve sparked pride or even joy, but now they’re just one more cut that stings painfully before being swallowed up. You note sourly he doesn’t say he’s missed you, despite the fact he’s been gone ten weeks now, and against your better judgement you missed him.

You lay there on his bed in the late evening and regret every moment that led you to this point. You shouldn't have picked up when he called tonight, you shouldn't have come over for drinks, and you definitely shouldn't have had sex with him again.

It’s not that Jake isn't a nice guy, well, he isn’t always, but for the most part he was a mile more decent than most of the guys you’d actually dated in the past. From the start he was straightforward and blunt with you about what this thing between you would be, how much he was offering you, and to his credit, he rarely seemed to step outside of that. And like an idiot, you’d gone and gotten feelings for him anyway.

You should have stopped seeing him long before his most recent deployment, and you shouldn't have been there the night before he left for him to hit you with another straightforward and blunt assertion that you were only fuck buddies, nothing more.

The thing is, you and Jake got on well, so well in fact most people assumed that you were an item, and at this point maybe you were blinded by your feelings, but you couldn’t exactly see why you shouldn't be, aside form the fact that Jake didn’t seem to be interested in any sort of commitment, despite what that offered was basically what you had now, only he didn’t have to go out of his way to break your heart once a week.

After the last time, before he’d left for ten weeks, you’d sworn off him for good. You put his name in your phone as ‘DO NOT CALL’, you downloaded a few dating apps, you’d even been on a few dates… and then Jake had sauntered back into your life, invited you over for the night and just like none of your progress existed in the first place, you’d come at his beck and call.

You lay there feeling pathetic as it sinks in what you’ve done, but swallow back your emotions for now. You were an adult, you chose to do this with him tonight, you knew what it would do. Warm fingers make you jump as they wrap around your wrist, and you glance up to watch as Jake effortlessly tugs you back onto the bed, closer to him, never letting his hand leave your skin as he releases you to skim his fingers up and over your shoulder, drawing you even closer until you’re almost cuddling. You nearly pull away.

Jake wasn’t a post-sex cuddler, not really anyway. Aftercare? No problem, but this wasn’t exactly the sort of session that required aftercare, so you’re more than a little surprised by his continued affections, staying still as he curls himself onto his side to face you, hand dropping to grab at your thigh, which he hikes over his, as if this was something you normally did.

“You may need to give me a few before we go again,” you tell him, realising this position was probably just him gearing up for round two. Jake peeks an eye open at you, and lifts an eyebrow as though what you’ve said is very funny.

“I don’t think I’ve got more to give tonight,” he says, adjusting your leg around him again, pulling you in even more. You refrain from frowning, if only to avoid explaining to him why. Jake closes his eyes again and lets out a contented sigh. His hand stays curled around your leg, though he begins rhythmically smoothing his thumb back and forth over your skin after a few moments, and you begin to wonder at what point he’s going to withdraw from you like he usually does.

Luckily you’re saved from the dreaded wait, your phone buzzing loud and distractingly. You use it as the perfect excuse to extract yourself from him, instead moving to a sitting up cross-legged position as you reach for your phone, and draw the screen closer to your chest when you see who it’s from. Jake seems only a little disgruntled by your movement, though gets over it quickly, replacing his hand almost exactly where it once was around your thigh.

“What's going on?” he asks casually, eyes closed again as you tap out a reply. You spare him half a glance, but don’t feel much point in lying to him about things, seeing as he’d never done so with you.

“Just this guy I met on Tinder a while back.” you tell him lightly, completely missing how his eyes pop open immediately and he stares up at you with an unreadable expression.

“You’re on Tinder?” he asks, voice blank, finally making you look down at him properly. You blink and shrug, before going back to your phone.

“Sure, I mean, I don’t know how else to meet people these days, I kinda don’t get out much when Dagger’s not around,” you inform him, shifting in your place slightly as he withdraws his hand from your thigh to lay over his sternum instead.

Feeling the mood shift, but unsure as to why, you force out a laugh and shrug.

“It’s been sorta nice, trying to get back out there again properly, not just, you know, settling or whatever.” that makes Jake react clearly, frowning at you while pushing himself into an upright position. “Settling?!” he repeats, though it’s not really a question. You stare at him in confusion.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m getting past the point in my life where I wanna be doing this,” you getsure between the two of you. “All the time.”

Jake blinks at you in clear offence, before quickly his entire demeanour seems to change all at once, and his expression falls into a somewhat familiar cocky grin.

“Alright, I get it,” he says, only further confusing you and you’re caught off guard enough that when he reaches out and plucks your phone from your hands, you don’t have time to react.

“Hey! Jake!” you protest, suddenly a little panicked as he very easily plays keep-away from you, using one of his hands to do something on your screen, while the other easily bats away you various attempts to swipe your phone back.

“You don’t need any of this shit, alright?” Jake tells you almost condescendingly.

“Jake!” you warn, your voice growing less calm by the moment.

“There, gone. Deleted.” he says proudly, before at last turning your phone screen around to face you, and letting you take it back off him, which you do hurriedly, snatching it away and standing up from the bed.

“What the fuck?!” you demand, looking agape between your now tinder-less phone, and Jake. The blond looks more relaxed now, and all of a sudden any thought of keeping your brooding and your feelings to yourself goes out the window. Your eyes prickle.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you do that?!” you shout. Jake has the smarts to at least drop his smug grin, but now he stares up at you in even more annoying surprise.

“I was just–” he starts, but you don’t even care what he has to say anymore.

“You don’t get to leave for ten weeks after, especially after reminding me that you don’t want me, and then just show up again and ruin my chances at finding someone who actually does!” your raised voice wobbles, and you don’t bother trying to hide your sniffling as you continue to lay into him. “That’s not fair! You’re being unfair!” you cry. “How many girls did you take home while you were away, huh?”

Jake blinks at you, a shade of indignance colouring his features now.

“None.” he tells you, but you can only scoff.

“Right. And how many did you flirt with? How many did you buy drinks for?” he stays silent at those questions, either not wanting to answer or no longer seeing the point in the face of your tirade. You stare at him until your eyesight blurs completely before at last you reel back from him.

Gasping a little at the state you’ve worked yourself into, you turn half away from him and wipe desperately at your eyes.

“Baby–” Jake starts, his fingers brushing your wrist, but you jerk away this time, pulling your hand and your phone to your chest.

“I need to go. I shouldn’t have come,” you tell him, collecting your clothes quickly before escaping into his bathroom.

You can't help but feel a little pathetic as you cry harder once you’re in the relative privacy of his ensuite, a strange but familiar disappointment lancing through you when he doesn't come after you. However upon swinging the door back open once you’re dressed, you find Jake standing in front of his bed, sweatpants now fastened around his hips, and a determined expression on his features.

“I’m not letting you leave like this,” he tells you firmly, as if he has any say in what you do. You scoff at him, but don’t cover up your still dripping eyes. If anything, his resolve seems to strengthen.

“Look, be pissed at me, I deserve it, but I’m not letting you drive home when you’ve been drinking,” his voice leaves little room for argument, and even though in the back of your mind you know he’s actually being the decent version of himself right now, you can’t help but snarl at him in disgust.

“Fine! Then I’ll call an uber. I’m not staying here.'' You're aware you sound a little childish, and you feel a small pang of regret when Jake’s face flashes with hurt that is quickly covered up by sternness. Going against all the signs you’re putting out to him right now, Jake moves forward and stops your movements to find your shoes by laying both hands on your shoulders. When you look up at him, eyes still blinking away tears, he seems sincere and pleading.

“Just… just stay here, I’ll sleep in the lounge, alright? Just don’t go home like this.”

You want to snap at him that he has no right to ask that of you, but somehow you think he already knows that, and is still asking anyway. You realise dully, that just like you always wanted, Jake was chasing you now, though, you aren’t sure you really want it anymore.

“I wasn’t trying to upset you–” he cuts himself off, just as you shrug out of his hold.

“Please do not talk to me right now.” is all you can manage by way of agreeing to his terms.

You can barely bring yourself to look at him as he goes about collecting up his pillow and a spare blanket, and a part of you feels cruel, but the bigger part of you is proud that you’ve finally put your foot down. Maybe at some other time you’d let him talk, but right now all you can think about or hear is every moment prior to this night when he’s hurt you.

You’d hoped you’d at least be able to fall asleep somewhat fast, but the longer you lay there, the longer you go over and over every little detail of your night until you find yourself downstairs, wrapped up in the throw blanket from Jake’s bed, and standing a few feet away from him on the couch. He sits up immediately when he noticed you, chucking his phone down and focusing intently on you. You note he doesn’t open his mouth, or attempt to speak yet, and you almost regret telling him not to earlier.

You stare at one another hard, until you have to suppress a small hiccup, at which point you frustratedly wipe your face with the back of your hand and cross your arms in front of you.

“Why did you do that?” You ask, amazed your voice sounds as firm as it does. Jake stares up at you with a mixture of uncertainty and something you want to say is remorse but you can’t bring yourself to believe right now that he would be.

“I’m not good at this stu—”

“—No, tell me why you did it.” You cut him off, not willing to listen to his self-pity right now. Jake closes his mouth and blinks up at you, staring intently for a few moments before he shifts in his seat. “Did you miss me?” You prompt after he continues to stare, eyes somewhat pleading. You understand relationships and vulnerability are hard for him, you’re willing to give him this olive branch for now. To his credit, Jake immediately nods, his hands coming together across his spread thighs to wring anxiously.

“Yes. I’m sorry—”

“—If you ever try any of that shit again, I’m kicking your ass,” you tell him. Jake blinks, then straightens up, and nods again. Your lip wobbles and this time when he reaches a hand out for you, he doesn’t grab you, but waits for you to shuffle forward toward him before pulling you in.

He tugs you forward to come stand between his legs, and bows his forehead to rest against your abdomen, his hands anchored at your hips.

“I don’t want you to think I don’t want you,” Jake mumbles, loud enough for you to hear, and you know this is a big admission for him.

“I know it probably doesn’t feel like it, but you can just, you know, tell me that…” you reply, letting your hands fall into his hair where you begin to smooth down some of the mess you made of it earlier. “I want you,” you say, realising while he may subconsciously know that, you’ve also never told him before. “I would never have let you mess me around if I didn’t,” you add with a short laugh, and flick his ear gently. Jake huffs, and lifts his head so he’s looking up at you now, chin resting on your belly.

“I don’t want you to date anyone else. I should have told you that back when I realised it…” he says softly, looking for the first time since you’ve known him like holding your eye contact is uncomfortable for him. “Is that okay?” He asks even quieter.

“Only if you don’t half ass it,” you peer down at him with playful scepticism.

Jake’s fingers at your hips tighten and his eyes narrow.

“I don’t half-ass anything,” he tells you sourly, before making a face. “Tonight notwithstanding.” he adds after a moment. You can’t help it then, you chortle, and hold the sides of his face. Jake smiles, seemingly proud of himself for making you laugh, and he adjusts his hold on you, moving his hands down to tug you into him, so your knees buckle and you’re forced to catch yourself on his shoulders just as he manoeuvres you to sit on his thigh.

“I’m sorry,” he says, far more seriously, leaning his forehead against yours now that you’re face to face. You cup his cheeks again, and dip forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“You will be out on the curb so fast if you fuck me around again,” you tell him cheerfully, making him laugh this time.

“Noted,” he says, before he steals another kiss, longer this time.

When he pulls back at last, you feel yourself relax fully against him, and move to rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“Can we go to bed now?” he asks after a few seconds. You nod, stifling a suspiciously timed yawn, and yelp a little when he scoops your legs under his arm and stands, grinning smugly all the way back upstairs.

#jake seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake seresin #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic #jake hangman seresin #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick

[mayullla]

Title: A Cruel Punishment

Character(s): Viscount (Unnamed character/original work)

Summary: You were cast aside by your fiance, a prince who fell in love with another woman. You were called an evil woman and you thought you would be sent away yet instead you were given to another. Your hands trembled when you read the contract that you would wed a terrible man.

Tags/Warnings: male!yandere, fem!reader, viscount!yandere x fallen aristocrat!reader, both are adults, general yandere themes, manipulation (both physical and mental), power imbalance, forced marriage, corporal punishment, loss of control, womb tattoo that is not sexual, forced servitude, 4.7k words

Part 2 is here!

This was your punishment.

You did try of course. You tried everything in your power not to have this happen… Yet no matter what you did you were treated like a villain in front of that girl. Tears in your eyes as you watch the man you have loved hold another woman with such care while looking at you in disdain and disgust like you were the devil. 

After misunderstandings and misunderstandings, your fiance has cast you aside for the girl who had become the talk of the aristocratic society. You were also spoken of, as the wicked one who lost her fiance to some countryside noble girl. The lady who was cruel and cunning. A bully towards those who could not speak up for themselves. A noble who had set up her own fall.

Yet that was never the case. You were nothing of that sort yet no one believed. When cautious eyes stayed away from you, not wanting to be caught in the waves or rumors. When those who cared for entertainment smiled at you wickedly, watching everything around you collapse. Those who didn't care turned their backs towards you walking away.

Maybe you should have tried harder… but it was too late. Kicked out of noble society, you awaited your punishment.

You thought you would be sent to a monastery. A punishment to banish the cruel women of nobility. Yet just before you could step foot towards that place, you were dragged back to where you were. 

They had no place for you. Food and water, none of that nor a place for you to sleep. For you, a far worse punishment awaited you. As you stared at the letter sent to you your knees fell to the floor. 

A marriage arrangement contract with the viscount. Cursive, beautiful, and elegant... it was terrifying.

There were many rumors surrounding him, he was someone who always smiled yet the more sharp ones could see the cunningness and hunger in his eyes. There were many rumors around him, that even while handsome many sound-minded women stayed away from him. For those ladies who did not, it was long before they suddenly disappeared, fell into madness or their family suddenly became bankrupt. 

There were rumors that circulated around the nobility that the viscount was dangerous, had a hold of the black market, and dabbled in dark magic. But there was no concrete proof, there was nothing. It was impossible to find information that the rumors were true and those who tried to unravel what was covered could only regret it.

The moment you read the contract that he would have you as his wife it was as if cold water was dumped onto you. Fear encased your heart as you wondered if this was your punishment. 

Those who have heard of this news wondered if you would even be alive after your marriage with that man. Some thought that you would not last even a month later found in a ditch somewhere body chopped into pieces, while organs were sold to the highest bidder.

You were scared as you were essentially dragged to his mansion, under the guise that you and him should get to know each other more before marriage which was in two months' time. Reaching the place and forced to sit down in the guest waiting room, your hands shook as you held your teacup to your lips, you could not focus on the maids bringing desserts. Seconds felt like hours till he finally showed, the same smile on his lips that felt nothing more than a mask. It was obvious that he was hiding something. 

He never tried to hide that smile, in fact, you have never seen another expression on his face other than that sly smile. Maybe already confident that no one would ever find those secrets.

You were cautious of him, having met him a few times at parties and balls you have always kept your guard up and alert around him, never once able to feel comfortable when he stared down at you like a predator watching its prey. You always tried to avoid him, and when you could not you could only sigh in relief when the conversation ended and the two of you separated.

Yet here you were.

"I hope you didn't wait long." He gently asked, taking a seat on the sofa in front of you. The servants had silently left the room after he had motioned them to go out (a flick of his hand) leaving only you and him alone. You shook your head telling him that it was fine that you didn't wait long which he looked as if he had brightened considerably. 

"Then please be comfortable. I do hope the tea is to your liking."

His sly smile never left his face.

It made it difficult to actually make yourself comfortable when you didn't know what he was actually thinking. The short small chat between you and him felt too long as he asked about your likes and dislikes, hobbies, and such. Drinking your tea, you were parched from all the talking and your nerves had somewhat calmed down but you tried your best to hide the tremble in your hand. 

"You must be sad that you have broken up with your fiance." Looking up you looked at the smiling face of the viscount from your tea. His elbow on his crossed knee while he rested his chin on his hand, "You have been his fiance ever since you were little kids. Why do I imagine it is still difficult to separate when you have been together for so long."

You froze at his words, the hurt in your heart that of what happened just a few days ago was still fresh from the pain. "I pitied you. Such a lovely lady, that looked like a rose wilting as others laughed at a beautiful thing. Why when I heard that they planned to send you to the monastery, I only thought it was unfortunate." He sipped his tea calmly as his eyes watched you, as your hands tightened around the teacup fear climbing up your body as you tried to lean away but were unable to because of the sofa.

"...I am sorry... what are you trying to say?" You didn't understand if he was trying to offend you or if he wanted to show his pity. 

You felt a wave of dizziness wash over you.

"Hmmm, for you my dear what I mean to say is that I found it tragic to send such a beautiful lady away." Tilting his head, his sharp eyes staring at you. You tried to concentrate on his words, yet you were struggling. "Then I thought that having you in my grasp would make for such a fine idea. You wouldn't have to go but instead be able to stay and I will get to keep you for myself. Of course, you would need much training before I would release you back into the noble society just like that."

Huh? You tried to listen, yet his words and face started to become a blur. Dizzy and tired you thought as you placed a hand on your head wondering what was the matter with you and if the stress from everything finally caught up to you. It was hard to understand his words, yet you could remember the mocking tone of it. It was getting harder to keep your eyes open.

"It seems that medicine is finally working. Don't worry dear I have made sure just to give you a tiny dose."

There was a sound of glass breaking, wondering what happened you tried to get up again yet were unable to when a hand placed itself on your cheek. The warmth of it was enough to get you to close your eyes. The last thing you heard was his voice.

"Such a cute little dove. Sleep love. When you wake up you will have no more rest. I will train you to become a fine lovely wife just for me and in the eyes of society."

After that darkness was all you could see, consuming all light.

Waking up, you had a major headache. Slowly moving as you push yourself up from the bed when you hear a door open and shut. "You are finally awake."

Opening your eyes, you looked around wondering why you were hearing a somewhat familiar voice when you realized where you were. In a dark room with no windows all except a lamp that lit up the room. There was almost no furniture except the bed that you lay on with expensive sheets and blankets. You suddenly moved alarmed by where you were when the clanging of chains tugged your leg preventing you from getting farther.

Putting force into your leg to pull the chain, you yelped when a sudden pain sprang on your bosom. Grabbing your stomach you looked down to see a crest. A beautiful yet erotic design was laid on the lower side of your stomach through the sheer nightclothes. “You are finally awake! You have slept for quite a while now… three days actually, but I had to make sure that you would not have any irreversible damage from the seal.

"Where... where am I?" You looked at him bewildered, fear and distrust shown in your eyes as you watched him walk closer to you.

"You are in the room you will stay for a little while till our wedding." You raised a brow at his words, surprised and in disbelief but he only chuckled. "My little future wife, my adorable pet, your surprised expression is just so cute. Even since a long time ago, since we met each other the first time I always had this fascination towards you." 

Bending his hips, you and him looked face to face at each other. There was a certain twinkle in his eyes, one that you often see in the past whenever he looked at you. "You see it was something like a love at first sight. While I never believed that at first, I realized that it was indeed true when I first laid eyes on you. Such a prim and proper little lady, trying her best to hide her struggles from the pressure of being the finance of a prince while smiling. Seeing you made me wonder what other expressions you have other than the ones that you show in public. I don't know why but I have a hard time getting you off my mind. And the more I thought about you the more I.. fell."

"Quite the love story is it not? However, you have already belonged to someone else, to that foolish and without a lick of sense or talent prince. I do not understand what you see in such a useless buffoon." Dry words of distaste made you flinch. "But it seems I must only do so little to get him out of your side. Why, he himself volunteered to get out of my sight."

You looked at him alarmed at his words when he suddenly grabbed your chin. Examining as if you were a product that he bought. "He is quite the lustful man, don't you think? Falling in love with a woman when all she did was sway her hips and fall in his arms. That woman is a seductress. Her eyes were very greedy for things that didn't belong to her. I have a distaste for such harlots, I prefer the more meek ones, the little mice or loyal dogs."

Placing your hand on his arm you attempted to get out of his hold. "Stay still dear, I have to check if they did anything to your love face dear. I wasn't able to really examine your face much when I was so busy placing that seal." You yelped when your body suddenly didn't listen when you tried to get away. Your own body started to inch closer to him and stayed still.

"It seems that the seal is working quite nicely don't you think?" His smile could not help but widen a little more as he watched your frantic eyes, asking what he had done to you. "Your little seal here is just to make sure you are properly going to follow with your training and not run away. I had it created just for you when I heard that your fiance wanted to break up with you."

"It is just a simple commanding seal, you are quite the doll but even so I prefer my lover to be well collared just in case she had any thoughts of leaving." Your eyes watered at his words, terror seeping into your veins at the implications.

“My beautiful dove, you belong only to me.”

Things went down from there, forced into his every whim you were forced to study and learn to be the perfect wife for the viscount. Whenever you made a mistake there was a punishment. You learned how to care for the mansion. Yet the more you looked the more your blood became cold.

He was a cruel man. No matter how much you begged the servants to let you out they would not. Instead, they would report your actions to their master which would result in you being punished by him. You felt nothing more than dirt when he hit your hands if not your calves with a rod, tears in your eyes as you were forced to listen to his cooing, words of love, speaking of pain as he was forced to punish his oh so sweet lovely dear who just never listened to him.

You didn't want him anywhere near you, but you stifled all your complaints when you watched his eyes become cold the moment you tried to take a step out of line. So you kept it to yourself as your legs in his commands stayed still, as you showed your hands so that he could smear medicine on where he hit. Wanting nothing more than to hide yourself when you were forced to help him move your skirt so that he could place that cooling medicine in your calves. You were ashamed and embarrassed yet you could not do anything. 

Nothing at all.

Yet the more you stayed in this nightmarish mansion the more open secrets you found.

"I heard that you have caused some trouble with the maids, you know they would be the ones serving you later when you marry me. You should be kinder to them." 

"What happened to them..." You asked, shivering as you pushed yourself further on the bed, wanting anything but to be near the man who was the cause of it.

There was a rumor actually going around one of many about the servants in the viscount's house. When a person enters the mansion as a servant or maid there is a chance you will never see them again, and even if you did they would become a whole different person.

The viscount must have done something, something to make sure that whenever they went out they looked normal to an extent yet at the same time would rather kill themselves than leak a single word about their master. Except for a few who told you about the food and baths no one really spoke unless spoken to. Yet even then there was always this lifelessness in their tone, dead.

They were unbothered by what their master was doing to you, not one reaction did they create when you begged them for help. They wore blindfolds, the viscount didn't care for them but it feels that it was his way of showing his care for you. (Or maybe he wanted to see the shock in your eyes the moment you realize what actually happened to them.) It was by mistake you took off the blindfold of the maid, as you held your breath at their dead, hollow eyes lacking life. There was nothing in those eyes as if there were no memories, no life, nothing. 

They were nothing more than living dead puppets.

"What did you do to those people..." You whispered, flinching when he took another step towards you. Tears were in your eyes as you watched him stop as if to think. You were scared, frightened of what he would do. Could do to you. You thought those were slave tattoos that were banned from the kingdom due to how they would cause painful physical harm to the person, how it was inhumane. Due to its nature, the king banned it a few generations ago. 

"How..."

"Pfft." You flinched at the viscount reaction, trying to hold his chuckle at the back of his hand as he looked away for a moment. After chuckles and coughs escaped his lips he looked back at you again, walking closer to you again. "My dear, your mind thinks of amazing situations. Even I know that slave seals are banned in the kingdom. Why would I risk myself for something like that? I would also be placing you in danger when you are going to become mine soon."

Not that you weren't already. You saw it in his eyes, that he looked at you as if you were his own property.

Taking a seat on the bed that you were chained to he looked at you tilting his head, his smile was mocking as if asking if you were really that dumb. "You are just so cute dear. Let me explain it so that my fiance would understand." Raising his hands he motioned you to come towards him.

You didn't move, still scared, shivering like a small mouse much to his annoyance.

You yelped when your chained leg was roughly grabbed and pulled toward him. You looked fearfully towards the viscount who was staring down at you, his smile gone just for a moment. He raised his hand again, and you could not help but close your eyes till a hand touched your face in a gentle manner, it felt nothing but nauseating "Come here dear, get up. Let your fiance comfort you from your anguish."

But you didn't move, holding your hands near to your chest as you looked at him with fear. You were scared, so scared at the thought that the viscount would make you the same as those lifeless servants. Yet you were suddenly forced up but an invisible thing holding your arm roughly pulled you towards the viscount who caught you in ease. 

"Wha-" "Oh, so eager." That mocking tone again, so close to anger but also amused.

You yelled again, looking at your arms as they moved to their own accord around his neck while your legs also moved by themselves placing you on Viscount's lap. "So eager and so cute... Did you want to jump into my arms that much?" you heard him whisper in your ear as your face heated up in mortification, yet it was obvious that you were shivering still in fear, unable to forget what you saw. 

A small sound escaped your mouth as your body flinched when he wrapped his arms around your waist holding you tightly. "You are shivering dear, were you that afraid? I am sorry love, I should have been the one to come instead of the servants but you need to be punished after what you have done yesterday." Another tiny sound escaped your lips when he started to pat your back, tears flowing down your eyes. From the outside point of view, you looked like nothing but a tearful lady crying in her lover's arms begging him to forgive her, while he was nothing but patient.

You were glad that you could not see his face, as your tears stained the shoulder of his shirt. Patting your back his arm went back to hugging you tightly as he placed a kiss on your shoulder. It brought a chill down your spine. "Those servants are like this because I had to be sure that they would never leak any dangerous information. Many had tried already, I had to be cautious dear. I knew you would be scared of them so I had them cover their eyes." 

He placed a kiss on your shoulder again this time a little nearer to your neck. "The slave seal is banned and I would never dream of using it, so I made one of my own. The kind that is similar to the slave tattoo but would never hurt the wearer, it just keeps them in a trace, a dreamlike state, and only listens to orders."

You wanted to push him away, yet your arms that hugged his neck were locked in place, as your leg tried to curl around his leg without your command. You knew that he wasn't telling everything, that there was more to it as you wonder about the seal right below your belly button.

Your breath hitched when you felt him place his thumb on the seal, as you froze in your spot. Watching your reaction he laughed again, a laugh that sounded so cruel to your ears as he adjusted your body to move closer to him than what was before. 

Warmth touched your neck, his lips touching your neck. Hugging your waist tightly, it was suffocating yet it made him excited, the obsessive love in his eyes so painfully obvious, "My love, I would never do that to you. Your lovely face devoid of any feelings would only hurt me more. To make you a mindless thoughtless servant, that I could never do to you. You just need a little training compared to them..."

"Look at me." Your head did not listen to you, you did not want to look at him. Yet you had no choice but to show your crying face to the man who made you like this. Forced to make eye contact, you saw his obsessed greedy smile as he looked at your face. His eyes swirled with a crazed delight. 

You hate it.

You unconsciously jumped when he touched the seal again, there was a static that ran down your spine when he touched it. A foreign feeling that you didn't feel when you touched the seal yourself. Confused, you looked at him, eye round and asking which only made him laugh even more, "You are so adorable." He whispered as he pulled you closer so that your chests were touching. "So adorable, and mine. Forever mine." He whispered, your arms still wrapped around his neck he continued to mumble those words over and over again. His embrace tighter and tighter making it harder to breathe. "I will train you to become a lovely lady, that any other men and woman would look upon you with envy, yet your thoughts would only be infested with me."

Your body moved without your consent again, hugging just as tight. You didn't want this. "So cute. So cute. God it is so fun to watch you. Your body is still shivering and tears are still in your eyes. You are so cute." He laughed as he continued to say the same thing over and over again. "And you will be all mine officially too. Soon dear, in a few months you will be mine but for now you need to stay here okay? You still didn't finish your punishment too for slapping your poor fiance."

You flinched as he looked at you, feeling an immense pressure that was pushing you down the smile calculative and mischievous, "If you kiss me I will forgive you dear." He told you tilting his head.

You want anything but that, yet when you tried to push him away your body did anything but that as your hands on his shoulder pulled him closer instead. 

This was your punishment.

Yet nothing changed even after that. Nothing at all when your eyes were forced to read the books that talked about a prim and proper lady.

Every day in your mind you thought that this was your punishment. That you were weak, that you didn't know. Those misunderstandings between you and the prince were caused because you didn't try enough. The Viscount fed you well, even when you didn't have an appetite you tried to eat because of fear, cause you were fearful of the servants who looked after you. You were dressed "well" and taken care of. 

However, rather than a human you were almost treated like a doll. The chain was always there on your foot rather than useful; it was a reminder that you were trapped here.

Morning you were forced to study, manners that you learned when you were young you were forced to learn again with the viscounts teaching. He was more strict than your previous teachers, forcing you to do the same sets of movements again and again, from how you eat and how you drink tea. He wanted all the mannerisms drilled into your head so that you would be perfect. To how you walk and hold a teacup. You whelped in pain when he whips you from the small mistakes you have made. Your calves burned in pain and so did the palm of your hands.

Dancing was hell, he found everything wrong with each step. If you weren't able to do it, the punishment was simple as your body was forced to do the same movements over and over and over again. Depending on how skilled or how bad you were you could only become better as you were forced to dance the same song for hours on end. Your body holding the pose of holding the viscount shoulder and hand as he went away telling you to be good and continue practicing telling you that he would come back when he finishes work.

When he came back, you were sweating with a feverish tired look to your face as your body forced you to continue moving to the steps of the dance. More often than not you would fall into the arms of the viscount much to his delight. Asking if you finally memorize each and every step. Sometimes you could not answer too tired to do so and sometimes he was forgiving, other times not so much. You yelped in pain when you heard the loud smack, even while carrying you in his arms he was strong enough to hold you and land a slap on your butt for not answering. You would answer as soon as possible after that, scared that he would hit you again. 

It seems that much as he loved perfection, he also adored how fragile and weak you were in his arms. This idea of you being only able to rely on him. As he kissed your feet after taking off your dance shoes, watching you with a crazed lust in his eyes. Unable to pull away when all your energy had been taken away, you could do nothing but close your eyes away from the viscount and his taunting love.

There was even more training after that, he made so that each step you took reminded you of him whether that be the stinging pain of your butt after you had made the mistake of unconsciously trying to avoid him, or thin and revealing the clothes he made you wore were.

Silks and satins, short and over your knees essentially underwear in your eyes when the world viewed the showing of ankles to be too seductive and immoral dresses were the most covered-up clothes you were allowed to wear in the mansion. You hated the feeling of lifeless eyes that the servants had watching you.

And if he was feeling rather sadistic, he would mockingly manipulate your body to play to his whims.

On the day of the marriage, you could not help but stare at yourself in the mirror. You don't remember how many days you were trapped in the Viscount mansion. You wondered if you were broken, broken to the point that you had no willpower to even make a peep at your sufferings. You have long given up, too afraid of something worse you choose to fall. You were too afraid to resist and for him, this was nothing more than amusement. A satisfaction that you were his.

You could not run away, not when he held power over you. Not when he could manipulate your actions and steps. Nothing belonged to you, your life was signed away long ago ever since he saw you.

You thought of yourself as a marionette yet to him he thought of you as his lovely bride.

#yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere x you #yanderecore #yandere scenarios #yandere original character #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere #yandere x darling #yandere boy #yandere blog #yandere thoughts #yandere oneshot #yandere concept #yandere oc x you #yandere writing #yandere imagines #yandere scenario #male yandere

[explicit-tae]

Metamorphosis

An alternate world in which you encounter someone in the middle of the night - a man seemingly hurt. Much to your luck, you were extremely wrong. (Teaser)

@juju-227592 @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @darkuni63 @castlewolfsbane @babycandy111 @chimmy-licious @whipwhoops @chimmisbae

Word Count: 8.669

Warning: demon jungkook, unsolicited touching/kissing/groping, ass slapping, humiliation kink, degradation kink, public sex, dirty talking, slight coercion, fingering, oral (f receiving), spanking, unprotected sex, blood play/licking, biting, creampie, squirting,

Alternate Universe | Halloween Masterlist | PART 2

“W-What’s happening?” you want to hold your baby close to you once more, inhale the soft baby scent that even a half demon like he had. 

The six men surrounding you began to chant. You’re unsure what’s happening, but your heart sinks. There’s an uneasy feeling in your core.

“Jungkook…” you murmur, reaching out for him.

“It’s alright, my beautiful human.” Jungkook takes a step back with the baby, rocking him gently. “The bond has been completed. Now we can be together for eternity. In Hell.”

The room begins to shake, as if an earthquake was beginning to happen. The candles on the stone walls all fall, falling onto the ground and erupting around you.

“Jungkook!” you shout, your nails clenching the thin sheet surrounding you. What in the world is going on right now? 

“The pain will not last long, my beautiful human…” Jungkook trails off. His son begins to cry, feeling the distress coming from his mother - noted seeing as he was just as connected to you as he was to Jungkook. “...once it’s over, you can reunite with us in Hell. We will be waiting for you.”

You cross your arms in front of yourself firmly, shivering as the heavy rain fully engulfs you. You’re soaking wet and obviously pissed. You had gotten off of work late due to your boss being an asshole - you had stayed hours past your scheduled time out. Usually you would have not cared because extra hours meant extra money - but today was different. Every Friday you made it your mission to visit the cemetery and place flowers onto your mothers grave. Since you have gotten off of work late into the night, there was no time to stop for flowers (and it would be useless due to the rain).

Not only were you stuck in the rain, but you had to walk the entire way to the cemetery, then home. There were no buses running at this time and that meant you were in for an hour walk home after the already 30 minute walk to the cemetery. Let’s not forget that you saw your boss drive right past you without any eye contact.

The sky is dark and starless and there appeared to be little to no street lights on. The only light you do get comes from the moon high above. You've seen this before in a horror movie. A lone girl walking at night and bam, a killer chasing after her. Maybe you shouldn’t be thinking like this at this time, but you couldn’t help it. You were utterly hopeless with no one to call at this time - and even if you did, it’s pouring rain and your phone is tucked deep into your purse to not get it any more damage than it already was.

Your feet ached as you reached the cemetery. The rain was dying down, but you were already soaking wet and it was the least of your concerns now. It took a few more strolls until you reached the familiar headstone belonging to your mother. You sigh, dropping to your knees. You would regret it later while getting the mud stains off of your work clothes, but you were off the next two days and that was enough to not think about it further.

Visiting your mother was bittersweet. Sometimes you’d go just to pay your respects, other times you would speak as if she was there with you - talking about your day and what was new in your life. Now you were exhausted and your body ached, you remained silent and enjoyed the quiet company. 

You’re unsure how long you’ve sat there, but you noticed that the rain began to pick up once more. You knew by tomorrow, you would be sick and decided to call it a night. You’d probably even decide to visit once more when the rain cleared up the following day to bring the flowers you couldn’t bring today.

You got off of your knees, touching the gravestone lightly before making your way out of the cemetery. Your eyes remained forward as your feet strolled through the grassy field. You cursed at your luck - your clothing stuck to you and it was becoming uncomfortable to walk.Your shoes are covered in mud and grime and it’s nearly pitch black in said cemetery, the moon shining but so much.

Your feet halt in their tracks. You blink your eyes, zoning in on a figure not far away from you. The figure appeared to be hunched over, on their own knees. You clench your burse tighter, eyes blinking away the droplets of rain to try to get a better look. 

The moonlight shines off of the figure and it appears to glow - it’s a person, no doubt. You ponder if they’re there for the same reason you are - but not everyone would be caught in the rain paying respect to a deceased loved one, right?

You begin to step closer to the figure, unsure of what your body is doing. Your mind is screaming out alarm bells, that something wasn’t right and this could end up going completely wrong. 

The figure’s head lifts up, shining eyes glowing in the dark. A man, you note, just as drench in the rain as you were. Black hair sticks to his scalp and covers the majority of his forehead. Just as before, he appeared to be shining underneath the moonlight.

“Are you o-okay?” you stutter out, uneasy with the intense stare of the man. You can make out his features - chiseled jawline, sharp eyes and full lips. 

Your throat swallows a lump, body visibly stiffening upon noticing the man's eyes turning a shade of crimson. There was no possible way you were seeing things.

The man begins to lift from his knees and once onto his feet, your mind is screaming at you to run. The man is tall - and athletically built. He wore a suit of the sorts, completely black that it nearly disguises him in the dark scenery. 

Your heart is beating outside your chest, your mind coming back to reality when he begins to step closer to you. His feet snap a twig beneath them. You want to run - you can even feel the way your body jerks to do so, but you cannot.

What?

What the fuck?

Your heart beats even louder that even the pouring rain is no match for it. Your hands clench your purse tighter against you.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Why is it becoming harder to breathe?

Your throat tightens.

Your body begins to shudder, trembling. You’re unsure what in the world is going on with you right now. You’re trembling, feeling a rush of cold air go through you one moment and the next, you’re burning up. Your body temperature hightens, as if your blood is boiling at a rapid pace. Your clothes being wet and sticking to you already didn’t make anything better.

“You,”

Your eyes widen hearing the man's voice so clear - as if there wasn’t rain pouring. The wind kicked up, swirling around you, yet still, his voice was coherent. 

“are such a beautiful little human.”

Air filled your lungs once more and finally, you were able to breathe. Your mind swirls around on his words - a beautiful little human? What did that mean?

The man appears in front of you in a blink of an eye - how you didn’t fall back with a scream, you’re truly unsure. He’s tall, towering over you with his menacing gaze - eyes appearing even darker with a mysterious glint to them. Those eyes…they weren’t human, you note, they couldn’t be. Even if his overall appearance to be that of a human man - there was no man you met with such crimson eyes. 

The man offers you a smile - no, a smirk. It didn’t appear genuine like a smile someone would give you upon introducing themselves. This was a cunning one; devious.

You do not realize that you’ve dropped your purse until it hits your feet. Your body still feels hot, temperature rising every second. 

You feel the man's hand place itself against the skin of your cheek - they were calloused and even hotter than your own skin. His thumb traces the outline of your lips and you can hear he’s humming to himself.

“Your heart is beating so loud, beautiful. Are you afraid of me?” the man questions. “Do I frighten you? Or do I make you nervous?”

“Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” you manage to say - more stutter. Breathing was difficult enough, but speaking appeared to be a battle. 

The man chuckles. “A prayer?”

“I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his feathers-”

You feel your throat tighten once more, this time by the man's hands. He forces you closer to him. “Shut up.” he hisses. “Your prayers do not affect me, beautiful. It makes me want to ruin you even more.”

Your body was feeling weird. Goosebumps prickled your skin - you can feel it beneath your clothing - and your stomach was beginning to bubble. You closed your eyes to not look into his eyes, but even then you could see them glaring at you.

“Christ be with me, Christ within me, Christ behind me, Christ before-” your prayer is cut short when a pair of lips are against yours. You’re struggling against the lips, a muffled scream dying in your throat.

The man removes himself from you, but he holds you close. His hands wrap tightly beneath your chin. Your eyes squeeze shut, heart thumping rapidly.

“You can feel it, right, beautiful?” The man's words are sultry, coming out more as a moan than a regular statement. “I know what it’s doing to you. I know you can feel it…right here…”

You gasp, feeling a tense grip between your legs. Your eyes snap open, the crimson eyes .boring right into your own. You want to jolt away from his prying hands - to push this man, no, this monster away.

“I know, beautiful…” the man sing-songs. “...the arousal feels amazing. Doesn’t it feel like you’re sinning for me, Y/N?”

You froze. Your eyes couldn't even grow wider. This man knew your name.

This man, whoever he was, knew you. He knew you’d be here visiting your mothers grave - that or he followed you.

“Yes, beautiful, I know your name.” the man chuckles, his hand rubbing along your clothed head. “I’ve always known your name. I’ve known of your existence since the day you were born.”

This man wasn’t human - your heart told you. His eyes, his words; he was something otherworldly. 

“Dear Father, Thank You for protecting me. Thank You for the angels that you assign to watch over me. I can be at peace today knowing that my very life is in Your hands-”

You squirm feeling a sickly substance upon your cheek. The man is licking you now - up your jaw, to your chin and now your cheek. His fingers hold your face in place in a tight grip. He reaches your ear, flicking the lobe. “Praying won’t stop me from having you, beautiful.”

This monster was doing something to you and your body. You would never feel this way. He had you under a spell - your legs are clenching against his prying hand. You could feel a pool of slick sticking to your panties - and so does the man.

“I need your help in this battle. I cannot walk alone, Lord-”

“Ah, that prayer!” the man cackles. “You feel it running through you, beautiful. The lust. You’re moaning right underneath my hand, beautiful. I can smell the sweet smell of your pussy.”

The man's words are so vulgar that you’re unable to respond. His hands cup your clothed heat even tighter. The hand that once grips your chin now loosens so he could push you closer against him.

“You’re a monster.” you hiss - but it’s not a regular hiss. No, the man notes this tone. It’s a moan of disgust, but a moan nonetheless.

“I am.” the man chuckles. “A demon straight from Hell, beautiful.”

Your throat releases a scream when your hair is yanked backwards. Your eyes are towards the sky, the droplets of rain blinding your eyes. You continue to scream when you feel teeth against your neck, biting down.

You want to fight the man - this predator. This demon. Your prayers aren’t working and appear to be falling on deaf ears. 

The man shudders at the taste of your blood. So pure and not laced with any impurities. But he wasn’t here for your blood - no, this was just a part of the ritual. 

“My name is Jungkook.” the man purrs, licking his lips of your delicious blood. “Finally, you’re mine.”

You cough. Your hands are clenching onto Jungkook’s chest unwillingly. You’re trembling, eyes fluttering. 

“You’re afraid of me, beautiful?” Jungkook tsks. His tongue licks the wound of your neck, twirling it up to your chin and to your lips. He presses an open mouth kiss onto your lips and moans. 

“I’m not yours.” you wheeze out.

“Oh…” Jungkook could only laugh. “...but you are, beautiful.”

Jungkook’s hand squeezes your ass. “I can smell your arousal. You’re so wet for me, Y/N. You’re clenching and unclenching around nothing.”

You feel ashamed by how true Jungkook’s words were. You want to cry out - you didn’t belong to this demon! You were a part of your local Church and attended said church with your mothers for years. You prayed constantly, remained God as your main priority and prayed away whatever petty sins you committed. 

“You belonged to me the day your mother gave birth to you, my love.” Jungkook’s hand pulls at your clothes. Your shirt rips in seconds, revealing your bra beneath. “That was part of the deal, after all.”

Deal?

Your hands grasp Jungkook’s wrist when his hands tug along your pants. You didn’t match his strength, and like your shirt, your pants are ripped to pieces. 

“I won’t submit to you, demon.”

Jungkook wants to coo at your cuteness. No matter how many times you denied him, he wouldn’t listen. You were going to be his regardless of what you felt - he had waited decades to get what he was promised. You had no skill, will or strength to deny him anything - you were already aroused. Soon, you would be begging for him and he would give you what you’ll be begging for.

You are turned away from him and flipped. Your face meets the muddy ground. You squirm when you feel your hips being lifted by Jungkook’s arm. The position is filthy and you want to be removed from this humiliating state.

Jungkook marvels at the sight of you - face down, ass up. So cute and exactly how you were expected to be. One hand grips your ass, gently rubbing before he brings his hand back and slaps it roughly.

You scream once more at the impact, and again and again. Jungkook continued, crimson eyes darkening at the sight of you squirming beneath him. 

“P-Please stop!”

Jungkook hums. “Why?” He slaps your ass once more, the sound like a melody to his ears. His hands trail between your legs to rub gently. “You’re so wet for me.”

Your eyes squeeze shut, teeth biting your lips to repress a moan. You can feel yourself grow wetter at the second and that’s what frightens you. You didn’t want to fall into temptation due to the demons hold against you.

“Let’s see just how filthy you are, huh?”

“N-No!”

Jungkook fingers hooks between your panties. He pushes them aside and finds his mouth watering. “Such a whore you truly are, beautiful. So wet and clenching around nothing.”

You couldn’t help the groan that comes from your throat when he rubs a thumb against it. Your thighs quiver to close, but Jungkook only slaps your throbbing ass once more to punish you.

Jungkoom continues to rub along your clit, fingers sliding between your folds effortlessly. He can feel his pants tightening at just the sight of you.

“So wet.” Jungkook grunts. He smirks, fingers dangerously close to your opening. “I can just slide…”

“N-No!” you gasp, but even with your pleas, your legs widen for him. 

“...right in.” Jungkook enters two fingers inside of you. So warm and wet - and inviting. He pumps his fingers inside, marveling at how you take him so well. “You’re milking my fingers, beautiful. Good little whore you are, huh?”

You shake your head, eyes squeezing shut. 

Why?

Why were you moaning for this demon? Why was your body not cooperating with your brain? Why were you so wet and aroused with such sinful acts?

“J-Jungkook…please!”

Jungkook groans. “That’s right, beautiful. Just give in.” he murmurs, his fingers picking up the pace. “It’ll be over if you just submit to me.”

“N-No…” You don’t want to moan any more. You can feel a familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you. He doesn’t allow you to fall forward. He lifts you and presses you against him. “Taste yourself.” he hisses and before you can protest, he enters two of his fingers inside of your mouth.

Your tongue swirls against his fingers unwillingly, your juices hitting your tongue. 

“I wonder if you taste as divine as you smell, beautiful.” Jungkook whispers in your ear, popping his fingers from your mouth. “Give me a taste.”

“N-No…”

Jungkook hums. “No?”

You nod your head. 

“Then why are you leaning against me, beautiful? Why are your hips jerking for more pleasure?”

Jungkook flips you once more. He’s laid against the ground and has you hovering above him. You’re firmly in his grasp, unable to escape. His teeth - so sharp and canine like - bite at your underwear until they’re as ripped as your shirt and pants were. 

You gasp when Jungkook places you on his lips. You’re sitting directly on his tongue, palms back against his abdomen for balance as he licks between your folds. 

Jungkook grunts. “So sweet, beautiful.” he murmurs before going back to ravishing you. 

Your eyes are unable to remove themselves from the sight before you. Jungkook’s tongue - long with and split at the end, rapidly lick upon your clit and between the folds. You could no longer hide your moans, allowing the pleasure to run through you.

This was wrong.

This is a demon - no matter how attractive he may be, this was a demon.

You consider yourself a child of God, fully committed to your faith.

But Jungkook using his tongue to pleasure you felt far too amazing to not moan - too amazing to protest his advances any longer. And, as sad as it sounds, far too amazing for you to utter the word of God in hopes of stopping him.

Jungkook’s nails dig into the skin of your inner thigh. Your scent intoxicates his mind, your slick sliding against his tongue. Finally, you were his - and now you weren’t refusing him. Your moans are loud - even with the rain starting up once more. You were giving in to your rightful urges as his.

Jungkook’s eyes flicker to your face. Such a beautiful face contorted with pleasure. Mouth agape and moaning with pleasure, the droplets of rain trailing down your skin. It glistens beneath the moonlight.

“My beautiful human.” Jungkook growls. His tongue swipes at your clit once more. “Pleasure yourself against my tongue.”

Jungkook slaps your thigh in encouragement. He wants you completely submerged in pleasure that you would willingly participate in.

Your hips jerk forward and onto his tongue. A deep moan comes from your throat and you now find yourself thrusting onto Jungkook - a demon. Your eyes squeeze shut, wanting nothing more than to feel your release.

Jungkook’s hands roam your body, tongue laying flat while you use him. They trail up your thighs to your hips, wrapping around them to encourage you to go faster. He then slides them up your sides to grasp your breast from your bra. He squeezes them, pinching the sensitive bubs of your nipples.

“J-Jungkook, I-I can’t take it!”

Jungkook pinches your nipple once more. He clamps down onto them so hard that you scream out, lifting yourself from his tongue, juices releasing.

And Jungkook’s laps every drop, a groan rumbling deep within his soul.

Whatever soul Jungkook had deep within Hell that was.

You fall limp against his legs, legs quivering.

“My poor beautiful human.” Jungkook moves your body so that he is on top of you. “Came so hard that you can barely function.”

Jungkook leans down to swipe his tongue against your cheek once more, the reason you’re unsure of. 

“I’m going to make you cum over and over again.”

The rain falls even harder, but the majority of it is hidden beneath Jungkook’s body. He kicks off his pants along with his underwear.

You can’t see it, but you feel how large Jungkook is when he forces himself inside of you. You feel like you’re being stretched to the max. Your arms wrap around his neck tightly, breathing hitching.

“Beautiful human…so tight.” Jungkook growls. “Made just for me. My perfect little human.”

Jungkook doesn’t allow you the luxury to adjust to his size. He thrusts deeply inside of you, cracking his hips harshly. Your back hits against the muddy dirty roughly with each thrust. You were going to be filthy once this ended - if it ever did. This was a demon here with you? Did a demon’s stamina ever go out? It wasn’t like he was human.

“Jungkook, please!” you plead with him, but Jungkook doesn’t want to hear it. His teeth clamp down onto your skin, biting it harshly enough to release blood. “I-I can’t handle-”

“You can!” Jungkook hisses. He leans back to admire your disheveled appearance. You were covered in mud, blood and soaking wet. Your hair is sticking to you and your eyes are struggling to stay open. But to him - you were perfect. “Finally mine.”

There’s a bulge in your stomach, reminding you just who you were fucking. Jungkook is a demon.

A demon.

You were going to Hell surely.

There’s blood trailing down your thigh, but still Jungkook refuses to halt his abusive thrusts.

“Your soul, your mind, your heart and your body belong to me.” Jungkook growls, appearing utterly animalistic. “All mine, Y/N. My beautiful human. And all it took was a deal from your father.”

Your father?

You didn’t have a father - physically. You were raised with two mothers; when you grew up you never had a reason to look for who your biological father was. You asked your mothers, sure, but it was stated he was someone who provided them sperm and nothing more.

“He got what he wanted and in return…”

Jungkook flips you onto your knees. He wraps an arm around your neck and enters you once more. He continues the brutal pace, skin slapping and echoing off of the trees. You’re not sure if you were going to survive this. Your insides hurt - even if it came with brief pleasure. Your body was aching just as bad and Jungkook showed no chance of stopping.

“...in return…I got you, beautiful human of mine…” Jungkook grunts. “...you’ll be coming back home with me to Hell.”

It was your alarm that had woken you up that following morning. You jerked upward, eyes scanning the room. Your room.

You were in your room.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled just the same. Your ears are ringing and your fluttering eyes are attempting to adjust to the sunlight coming from your bedroom window.

Your aching legs manage to move. You swing them around your bed and lift yourself. You managed to make it to your mirror and you gasped.

You weren’t dirty nor covered in mud like you expected. That couldn’t have been a dream - everything felt far too realistic to be one. You were intimate with a demon - he had told you that you were his because of a father you never met.

Your eyes scan the scars and bruises littering your body. There’s hand marks upon your throbbing skin, one around your neck and two on both sides of your waist. You can see the bite marks that drew blood on your neck and another between your thighs.

You want to cry, but felt that even that would be hypocritical. You allowed a demon into your body - to have something precious that should have belonged to your human partner. You have learned from an early age that demons were tricksters and you had fallen into their trap.

You shower until the hot water runs cold - and even then you did not want to remove yourself. You washed your skin countless times in hopes to rid yourself of the sick feeling, but it never left. You could feel his hands on your body now as if he was here - his teeth and his tongue grazing along onto your skin.

Your mind betrayed you as did your body. There’s flashes replaying the long night Jungkook had bestroved for you. How he had taken you so roughly against the cemetery ground, both of you covered in blood. How he had flipped you and taken you against a tree, allowed you on top of him - almost every inch of the area you had been fucked on.

You clench your legs together and clench your fists. You dried your body, trying to rid your thoughts of the sinful encounter - but they wouldn’t leave. You were beginning to feel the uncomfortable throb between your legs once more.

Pray.

You had to pray. 

You dressed in fresh clothing and went towards your vanity. Your rosary would be there. You grasp it in your hands, ready to send a prayer when the rosary begins to burn in your hands. You screamed, dropping it to the floor and watching with wide eyes as it began to burn through the hardwood floor. 

“No…”

You trembled, not taking your sight off of the burning rosary.

You were too far gone - you were damned to Hell.

The tears finally came. You have dropped to your knees now, praying for forgiveness for the sins you committed. Your God would understand - he had to. You didn’t want to sleep with the demon that was Jungkook. You had no choice. He had you underneath a demonic spell that had you moaning his name, crying tears of lust and pleasure…

Had you been screaming his name, claiming how much you wanted Jungkook…

You wrapped your arms around him and begged for more - each and every time…

The feeling was returning. The familiar arousal between your legs and the warm feeling against your skin. You lay upon the cool hardwood floor, wanting nothing more than for your temperature to subside.

Why you?

Why were you being cursed by Jungkook?

What was the supposed deal Jungkook made with your biological father? And even so, you didn’t even know the man. Was he even still alive?

“Beautiful human.”

Your body jerks at the sound of Jungkook - his sultry voice.

Jungkook leans against the nearest wall of your bedroom. He’s sporting all black once more, this time a fitted shirt and slacks. His eyes are the familiar shade of crimson and they watch you closely. 

“Look at you. In a pool of your own arousal once more.” Jungkook shakes his head, a smirk placed on such beautiful lips…

You shake your head. This wasn’t your mind thinking - it had to be the demonic spell.

“I have not put you under any spell.”

Can he read your mind?

“I can read your mind, beautiful.” Jungkook states. “You can learn to read mine. Once we venture to Hell.”

You aren’t going to Hell. You were going to ask God for his forgiveness - to be allowed to be underneath his guidance once more. 

“God…” Jungkook chuckles darkly. “...will never take you. He never had you to begin with, beautiful. Why do you think it was so easy for me to get my hands on you?”

The familiar tightening in your throat, the heat radiating your skin and the goosebumps were returning. Your clit throbbed uncomfortably as if your body knew Jungkook was near. 

“Your body will always submit to me, beautiful. As it belongs to me.”

No.

No.

No!

“I know you feel the arousal once more. How wet you are. You’re such a needy little thing, huh?” Jungkook cackles loudly. “Touch yourself, beautiful. See how wet you are.”

No.

You weren’t going to.

If so, why were your hands going beneath your shorts to touch yourself?

“It’s okay, beautiful. Touch yourself and watch me.”

You want to deny him the satisfaction of watching you, but you’re already succumbing to his demonic spell. You were positive that he’s done something to your mentality that you could never deny him.

“I-I can’t.” you snatch your hands from your shorts, feeling flush with embarrassment.

“That just means you want me to, huh?” Jungkook is kneeling down beside you in the blink of an eye. You want to ask how he does it, but you’re afraid of the answer. You weren’t ready to go down a rabbit hole of demonic entities and powers.

“No…?”

“Is that a question, beautiful?”

Jungkook’s already tugging your pants down and taping your thighs aside. He’s amused by how easily you give into him.

“Go ahead and tell me no.” Jungkook plays with the lace of your underwear. Your clit is visible to him - wet and inviting as always. “Then I'll leave.”

“You’ll leave?”

Don’t sound disappointed, you think. You wanted this demonic entity gone - right?

“Of course. Tell me to leave, Y/N. And I’ll go.”

Jungkook hooks a finger inside your laced panties with a shake of his head. So divine and so sweet - even after he completely ruined you not long ago.

Tell him to go.

Tell him to leave you alone and to never return.

Be stern, you think. Resist him and the impure thoughts of this demon.

But you don’t. Those words never leave your lips. 

“Already so wet, my beautiful human.” Jungkook enters a finger inside of you for a second. He then removes it and enters it inside his mouth. “And taste so heavenly.” he cackles. “Heavenly for someone going to Hell.”

You don’t respond to Jungkook’s words. He’s already entering his fingers back inside of you. He pumps slowly at first to get you comfortable - and then he’s rapid. The sounds of his moving fingers echo off the walls of your bedroom - mixed with your moans of pleasure. It sends shockwaves throughout your body.

It’s so sinful, you think. How when you were a child with your mothers going to church, even if the three of you got awkward stares - how you read the bible alongside them. You prayed every night before bed, before every meal - you needed to know where exactly you went wrong.

“Still blaming yourself, sweetheart?” Jungkook’s so beautiful, you think. You recall many times hearing that demons were often beautiful to trick you into sinning with them. “I told you, you were destined to me long before you were even born.”

You feel Jungkook’s fingers hitting your g-spot, curling inside of you with each thrust. It’s as if he was going deeper and deeper each time. You don’t want to look at the beautiful man, but it’s as if he compels you to. His crimson eyes - so captivating and inhumane. You were told that you were under no spell, but that had to be a lie - demons always lie.

“I never tell no lies, my beautiful human.” Jungkook comes closer to you, licking his lips. “What you feel right now is not due to any spell, but your own body submitting to me.”

Your soft moans only fuel Jungkook on further. His tongue licks along the skin of your collarbone. Your thighs tremble with pleasure when you feel his teeth once more - he’s biting you. It doesn’t hurt, you note, not like it did when he bit you at the cemetery. 

You’re breathing quicken and your eyes snaps shut; you were going to cum. You cannot remember when you ever felt this much pleasure in such a short amount of time until now, and all you can truly think about was succumbing deeper and deeper into the pleasure.

“I know you feel it coming.” Jungkook’s breath tickles your neck as he speaks. “Say my name, beautiful human. Who is the demon who’s going to make you cum?”

“J-Jungkook…!” you shout, feeling the wave of pleasure shoot out of you. It engulfs your entire body, shuddering up the back of your spine and causing goosebumps to litter your skin.

It was when you opened your eyes did you think you were going crazy - completely insane. Jungkook was gone, seemingly never in front of you. Your fingers were inside of you instead of his own, completely soaked in your slick.

“How did you find me? I know your…mothers. They wouldn’t give up that information.”

It took a week to track down your biological father - a week of torment each night with Jungkook. You cried after you realized that you masturbated, not because you thought it was wrong - you’ve done so before. But because you weren’t sure what was real and what was fake anymore. No prayer stopped Jungkook from returning to you each night - and you never told him yourself to stop; your body submitting to him each time like he’s stated.

You visited your mother on the third day and even she saw the bags beneath your eyes. She questions your appearance, but all you could think about was the very man before you - it took hours to convince her, but she eventually caved. 

“Well…” your father murmurs, sighing after a moment of silence. “...what do you want? Money?”

Your eyes roam over the large estate he lived in. Money would’ve been nice if there wasn’t a literal demon fucking you every night - but even you wouldn’t think to ask him for money. He was nothing but a donor for your mother’s to have a child, never truly intending to be in your life. 

“What deal did you make with the demon?” you ask bluntly.

Your father’s eyes widen slightly at your choice of words. He turns to close the doors to the office you sat in before turning back to you. 

“What…are you talking about?” he coughs, turning back to you. 

“What deal did you make with the demon that’s tormenting me?” you don’t mean for your tone to come out harsh, but it does. You were upset - rightfully so. “What are you? A musician? You promised that son of a bitch your first born child for a record deal-”

“I’m not a musician.” he raises his hands in an attempt to calm you. “H-How did you find me-”

“Are you not listening?!” you take a deep breath, again, not wanting to appear too angered. “There’s a demon tormenting me every night. He said that my…father,” you didn’t want to call him that. He had no intentions of ever being in your life, he was nothing but a donor. But it didn’t matter to Jungkook. “made a deal with him. What the fuck was the deal you made with the demon? Why am I the one being tormented when I know you have other children-”

“You are my first born daughter.” the man caves. His voice comes out in a whisper and barely audible. “I have a son older than you before I made the deal.” his voice is cracking - was he guilty? After all these years did he feel bad for whatever he’s done? “I…I needed money to support my family. The demon said if I had a daughter that I…” the man blinks away from you. “...my wife fell pregnant with another son after we made the deal. That demon was upset. I’ll never forget those eyes. He threatened to kill my wife and kids if I didn’t give him a daughter. That was the plan. I never knew demons were specific with gender.”

Your blood runs cold as his words ring in your mind.

“I…what’s your name?”

You’re taken aback by his sudden interest. “Y/N.” you murmur.

“I thought the demon…I don’t know what I thought.” he sighs. “I kept tabs on you for years now and you remained alive. The demon didn’t take you when you were born like I initially thought he would. Each year passed and I began to think that maybe…he forgot? He didn’t want you anymore.”

You want to laugh. To think your life was given away before you were ever conceived. Your eyes roam the large office space and linger on a picture - a family one. The man before you with a woman, his wife, and two boys - his sons. They appeared happy as a small family of four. 

You sniffle, unsure truly if you could be upset with him. He was only doing what he thought was right at the time, trying to provide for his family. You ponder what would happen if he did have a daughter instead of a second son - would Jungkook have been tormenting her instead of you? 

You shake your head. 

“I have to go.” you exhale. “I-”

“I am…so sorry.”

You glance at the man’s way and nod your head. 

“So am I.” you murmur to him, your legs already walking towards the door of his office.

Your body is sweating, beads of sweat pooling down your skin. Your shirt sticks to you thickly and you’re sure that this is how you were going to die - or pass out. Whichever came first.

Your eyes snap and you lean your head back, cupping your forehead. You sat at your desk, your work forgotten about.

It’s been two months now since you've been tormented by Jungkook - though he had been missing for the last week. You were grateful - in a way - that he has not returned. Your body needed the rest.

Your throat closes up and your eyes snap open. You never ran as fast as you did now, pushing past your co-workers to make your way into the restroom. You slam the stall door open and hurl right into the toilet. You felt physically ill, vomiting for the next ten minutes.

You were sent home once a co-worker found you like that, crying and vomiting - you weren’t even sure you had enough in your stomach to continue, but your body kept on.

It was the following day - you were given a few days off to recover - when you noticed that something was terribly wrong with you. You visited your mother that night for dinner - she claimed that you looked both hungry and ill. She was just going to start dinner - steak - and that you needed to relax while she finished up.

You thought the smell of raw meat would disgust you, but it didn't. While your mother washed dishes in the sink, humming to herself, you opened the fridge to find yourself something to drink. You were parched and now growing hotter by the second. You smelt it first - the raw steak your mother had placed in the fridge for another day. She hadn’t seasoned it yet like she usually did and it caught your eyes almost instantly. Your eyes glanced before the fridge door to your mother, scrubbing along the dishes.

You grasp the bowl the steak was placed in and sniff it, your stomach rumbling. Before you can process what you’re doing, you sink your teeth into the raw meat, the blood oozing from the corner of your lips. It tasted delicious - finally something you could smell or taste without vomiting it up moments after.

Your mind suddenly clicks on what in the world you’re doing. You slam the fridge door shut and hurl the bitten steak in the trash. You feel ill - not because you just ate raw meat, but because you liked it.

“You ate raw meat?” your doctor asks, chuckling awkwardly. “That cannot be good.”

“That’s why I’m here.” you murmur, playing with your fingers to not look your doctor in the eye. “There must be something wrong with me. I-I sweat constantly. I always feel sick. I can’t sleep most nights-”

“That’s what we were looking into.” your doctor nods, offering you a kind smile. “We ran some tests and a part of the problem can be answered. You’re pregnant.”

Pregnant.

Pregnant?

You shake your head slowly, eyes now widening at the doctor. “I can’t be…” you trail off. 

The only person - were demons even people? Your mind races at the word pregnant. You were only sexually active with Jungkook - an act you weren’t sure if you had complete control over. 

Demons had to be infertile - you were a human woman. There was no way you could be pregnant by a demon.

“We took multiple tests, Y/N. Would you like for me to perform a sonogram?”

You’re starting to feel ill again. 

“Y-Yea.” you whisper. 

The gel placed upon your stomach is cold. You don’t want to look upon the screen, but you’re drawn to it. 

Your doctor hums. “That’s weird.” he murmurs. “The baby appears large.”

You’re unsure how to read the screen, but you try your hardest. 

“But you’re rather small. You are still in the beginning stages of your pregnancy.” your doctor continues.

You pull your eyes away from the screen.

You shake your head. 

“I can’t have this baby.”

Your doctor glances at you, but he doesn’t say anything but nod. 

“Is there a way I can set up an appointment?” you continue. “I-I can’t keep this baby.”

Your doctor nods again. “We can set one up as soon as we have available. Let me speak-”

Your doctor coughs, and then begins to clench his chest. You lean forward as he begins to cough blood. He proceeds to fall to the ground, sonogram equipment crashing alongside him. 

You swing your legs around to get up from the hospital bed. You swing the door open and scream out. “I-I think he’s having a heart attack in here!”

The room swarms with nurses, all pushing you aside. You couldn’t take your eyes off of your doctor as he’s being ushered out. Even as you make your way back home, did you feel as though you were at fault.

You swing the door to your home open and walk in. You close it behind you and wake your way towards your bedroom.

“Y/N.”

You come face to face with Jungkook.

“Welcome home, my beautiful human.” Jungkook offers you a smile, small dimples on display. “I’ll allow this realm to be your home for now.”

You shake your head. 

Jungkook takes a few steps closer to you. “You’re glowing.” he hums.

“You did this to me.” you hiss his way. “You put this…thing in me-”

“Thing?” Jungkook cackles, red eyes glaring at you. “You mean our child?”

“This isn’t a child.”

“But it is, my beautiful human. Made with our flesh and blood. A product of our love.” Jungkook is in front of you in a matter of seconds. He turns you around so you are facing the floor-length mirror in your room. He places a hand upon your stomach. “Such a powerful being to rival the strongest and most powerful demons of the underworld. I can feel it.”

You feel your throat tighten.

“You cannot feel such power yet. But as he grows throughout the months, so will his powers. They’ll be similar to my own.”

He?

“Yes. He. It’s a boy - I can feel him. He can also feel your disappointment, my beautiful human. You don’t want our child to feel hatred while he’s not yet been born.”

You shake your head. You didn’t want a child - not with a demon. You had your life planned the best you could. Find a man that you loved, get married - have children when the time was right. 

This time was not right.

“It is right.” Jungkook lifts your shirt to reveal your stomach. You feel disgusted that it begins to move. You’ve never seen anything like it. Women in early pregnancy didn’t look like you now. It was as if the child inside of you was attempting to claw its way out.

“Our childs power has shown itself today. He had his first kill.” Jungkook appears proud, crimson eyes shining. “It was self-defense. You tried to get rid of him, Y/N. He knows you did.”

Your heart sinks. Your doctor having a form of a heart attack, bleeding out in front of you. That was you - the child you were pregnant with. 

You blink rapidly to not cry, even if you desperately wanted to.

“Everything would be fine if you would stop fighting your destiny. You were destined to be mine - to submit to me. You are now having our child.”

Jungkook removes his hands from your stomach and lifts it in the air. From his reflection, you witness a small box appear in his hand.

“How do you feel, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, opening the box. “Do you feel nauseous? Headache? Hot?”

You shake your head, watching Jungkook remove a ring from the box. “I know,” he says. “you haven’t felt that way since you walked inside the room. It’s because our child feels welcomed with me around him. He isn’t on alert. He feels safe.”

Jungkook turns you around, holding up the ring. It’s large, a dark stone at the center surrounded by smaller diamonds. He grabs your hand in his own, sliding the ring onto your finger. “You humans enjoy jewelry as an act of commitment.” he states. “Now here it is. Consider us…married.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. 

Jungkook offers a smile, unbeknownst to you, a cunning one. Humans were always easy to manipulate.

Your chest is ready to explode into small pieces. Your chest is tingling, you unwillingly inhale hoping that your lungs would be filled with air - the perfect amount of oxygen needed. Instead, it fills with water. Your head begins to feel numb and light, almost as if it’s going to crack open.

You feel dizzy, as if it dawned onto you just now that you were going to die here. Your arms flapped around for anything, but the weight of the water just brings you down deeper and deeper.

You managed to open your eyes, but the water isn’t clear. It’s hard to make out your surroundings and you cannot fathom what you’ve done to get here. 

You clenched your eyes shut in hopes the ringing in your head would go away, but it didn’t. Instead, it got louder and louder.

There’s no air left in your lungs, nothing keeping you alive. 

Your flaring hands cup your stomach - the bump that grew larger throughout the months. Your baby. Your heart sinks at the thought that not only you would be dying right now, but so would your son - even if a part of him was Jungkook, a demon, he was still a part of you.

Your chest burned while the rest of your body ached. You could no longer fight your kicking legs. You feel yourself sink deeper and deeper into the abyss, your surroundings only growing darker and darker.

Your mind, what little left you had of it, screamed for Jungkook to save you - that he was truly your only hope left. Not just for you, but for the child you both shared.

Your screams echo and bounce off of your ears. Your body begins to frail once more, feeling yourself being restrained. Your eyes finally focus and you realize that you are not deep in the abyss anymore.

Cries are heard throughout the room and finally, you stop fighting against the hands restraining you.

“I-Is that…”

You aren’t in a room. You aren’t sure where in the world you are. The walls are stone and high. There’s candles that are lined around your cot and on the walls. Surrounding you are several men, all unfamiliar except one. Jungkook. He’s holding something in his arms, wrapped in a clothed blanket. 

“Our son.” Jungkook rocks the wailing baby until he’s quiet. 

“Can I…hold him?”

The six men surrounding you all watch as Jungkook places the baby into your arms. Your eyes are fixed on him. He doesn’t appear to be that of a newborn - yet, he was half demon, so you wouldn’t hold anything against him. He’s still so small in your arms and against your chest and warm to the touch. There’s a mop of dark hard atop of his head.

Your son's eyes are open - and they are the same as Jungkook’s. Crimson, shining right up at you.

Your finger touches his skin, feeling your heart feel warm at just the sight of him.

Jungkook hums, feeling himself smile. He had you now - fully. Now more than ever would have if it was not for the child he’d given you; you had called for him while in the abyss to save the both of you. Even if there was never any direct harm to you physically, mentally you were calling for him. Him to protect you and his son.

“It’s time.” one of the men said. Jungkook takes the baby back into his arms, shushing when the small infant begins to sob at your lack of contact.

“W-What’s happening?” you want to hold your baby close to you once more, inhale the soft baby scent that even a half demon like he had. 

The six men surrounding you began to chant. You’re unsure what’s happening, but your heart sinks. There’s an uneasy feeling in your core.

“Jungkook…” you murmur, reaching out for him.

“It’s alright, my beautiful human.” Jungkook takes a step back with the baby, rocking him gently. “The bond has been completed. Now we can be together for eternity. In Hell.”

The room begins to shake, as if an earthquake was beginning to happen. The candles on the stone walls all fall, falling onto the ground and erupting around you.

“Jungkook!” you shout, your nails clenching the thin sheet surrounding you. What in the world is going on right now? 

“The pain will not last long, my beautiful wife…” Jungkook trails off. His son begins to cry, feeling the distress coming from his mother - noted seeing as he was just as connected to you as he was to Jungkook. “...once it’s over, you can reunite with us in the Underworld. We will be waiting for you.”

The chants only get louder and the room hotter. When you managed to take your eyes away from Jungkook, you looked towards the shaking ground. It erupts, pits of flames crashing through the ground. You scream, unsure of what was going on.

Jungkook’s words ring in your mind - you would be reunited with them in the Underworld.

Your blood runs cold, feeling your arms being pulled upon from an unknown force deep within the pits. 

Your eyes lock with Jungkook for a last time, crimson eyes staring right into your own. You’re unsure how to read him - he was a demon and could demons ever truly be trusted? They were cunning and selfish; only truly anything for personal gain.

‘I’ll be right down there when you arrive, Y/N. We both will.’ 

You’re shocked for a moment, hearing Jungkook’s voice directly into your thoughts. Now your body is being dragged down into the Earth, swallowing you fully and yet, all you could hear are Jungkook’s words in your head.

‘You have my word, my beautiful wife.’

PART 2 | Divine Intervention (Taehyung Version)

#metamorphosis #explicit-tae #bangtanwritershq #btswritersclub #btsmasterlist2022 #bts smut #bangtan smut #jungkook x reader #demon jungkook #demon bts #demon bts x reader #btswritingcafe #alternate universe #btsmasterlist2023 #bts masterpost #yandere jungkook #yandere bts #incubus jungkook #btswriterscollective #bts writing #bangtanwriters net #halloween masterlist #trivia-yandere halloween masterlist #방탄소년단

[pityslash]

“marry me, katsuki.”

bakugo chokes on his drink, and you slap his back. you two sit at a boba shop that’s seen better days, it was late but you knew the owner so she let you two stay while she started to close up.

“what?” he asked, still breathing heavy. “marry me.” you repeat, taking a sip from your cup and chewing on the jelly. “i mean it, we’re both settled in our jobs and live together. plus we’ve been dating for what, 5 years?”

bakugo keeps staring at you, and staring. you start to get uncomfortable, regretting the topic. maybe you shouldn’t be thinking about it, it wasn’t necessary and you two loved each other— you shouldn’t feel like rings and saying “i do” would make your relationship more.. official.

there’s a blush creeping up your neck, and you turn away to busy yourself with the boba and your soup. “sorry, i know how you feel about that sorta thing.”

you’d been so nervous to ask, having time to think about what you were asking. you did spring it on him.. you sneak a glance at bakugo, the low light against the scar across his cheek, the freckles spattered over his nose and the soft puffs when he was nervous.

he was as handsome as ever.

“stop starin,” he says, nudging your leg underneath the table. “and it’s fine. you just.. surprised me. let me think about it.”

“really?”

you see a smile pull on his cheeks, “yeah.” so you both finish your meal, relieved. you and bakugo have come a long way.

“did you even get a ring?” he asked when you two got home later that night, the key’s clanking on the table. you pause while undoing the buttons of your coat, “it’s.. arriving next week.”

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou fluff #mha fluff #bnha x reader #mha x you #bakugou drabble #bakugou x you #my hero x reader #my writing

[mechaknight-98]

Full Circle (NSFW) Ft MiChaeng

Authors note: inspired by the picture…you know the one. @smutoperator your turn

Two weeks before your relationship anniversary and Chaeyoung's birthday you ask her what she wants,

“Hmm I want a threesome with you and Somi,” she says plainly. You blink multiple times. You, Somi, and Chaeyoung have hung out loads of times. Somi was cool that you liked her but this was a massive and intense step for your relationship. He’ll it caused you your last one. You gulped trying to figure out how to respond.

“Huh,” you ask.

“You heard me. I want a threesome. I want my two favorite people to take care of me all day. I want to be pampered and fucked all day and all night,” Chaeyoung said her voice oozing the sexy confidence you fell for. She knew you were going to say yes, despite your reservations because she knew you. You were invested and to you, that transcended your past feelings about them. Knowing this you were momentarily put at ease about it.

“Okay, Tiger. I trust you.” You relent and Chaeyoung’s eyes grow wide with joy.

“You won’t regret this?” Chaeyoung assures you that she knew your sordid history with threesomes. As the day nears your dread increases. flashes of your old relationship begin to haunt you as each day nears. Chaeyoung notices of course and reassures you when she can but also gives you decent space to parse and constructively deal with your feelings, and music. Now you didn’t possess her level of talent but you had become quite practiced and skilled in a few instruments she helped you learn.

“What if she leaves you for Somi? What if Somi seduces you? What if a meteor strikes you down before the appointed time,” your mind raced as you tried to find a solution or an out to this circumstances. Yet whenever you broach the subject you just see Chaeyoung’s eyes go so wide with joy anytime she mentions the “experience”.

The week before is stressful as she left you sexually ravenous and frustrated. A far cry from the sexual satisfaction you mutually enjoyed. She had forbidden you from touching yourself or touching her but she would touch you and make a great show of masturbating in front of you with reckless lewd abandon. This torture lasted seven nights. On the day before her birthday while you were getting ready for work you asked “Hey Chae why all the edging,” Chaeyoung smiled

“I want you feral so that you destroy my pussy. I want you so feral you fuck Somi and my brains out. I want you feral that all you can think about is using us for your pleasure,” Chaeyoung said with a lustful tone. This led to the most diabolical edging sessions she’s ever done to you. Before work, she grabbed your cock and began to stroke you as she said all of the things she wanted done to Somi and her. You stand helpless in her grip, like putty in arms hoping she releases some of the tension, and just like that she stops. She kisses your cheek and says, “See you later Rocky please get home safely,” She did just enough to rile you up but nothing to satisfy you. You grind your teeth. You could and should demolish her right now for what she did but no. It was her birthday and as a good boyfriend obeyed, but damn could she see it in your eyes. Her eyes seemed to egg you on then her mouth followed,

“Oh has it gotten to you,” she says, “you better go or you’ll be late for work,” she said with a sadistic smile.

The night before you had to avoid Tiger. for fear of losing control as her touch was enough to drive you mad at this point. You stayed out on something you don't do trying to take your mind off things. You went to the bar where you met Chaeyoung. You order a straight whiskey hoping the alcohol will ease your nerves. it doesn't. you sit alone until a familiar voice talks to you

"Hey stranger," You turn to see a smiling Somi. You wave,

"What brings you out Mr Workholic?" Somi playfully teases

"Oh you know just wanted a drink ya know," you lie. Somi sees right through it and replies

"Chae told me she's been subjecting you to torture in preparation for her birthday bash of us three," Somi smiles. You nod

"I just need a break. for a couple of hours at least. She's got me on edge. I almost called in just so I could fuck that smirk off her face," You reveal

"Yeah, Chae told me that you had reached your limit, but if it's any consolation she has also told me that she has also reached her limit not being able to fuck her "favorite cock and balls" like you did something to her. I have never seen her so down bad for a guy before," Somi teases

"I'm glad. She's so smart and talented and I just want to watch her succeed," You elaborate.

"I know now come on. it's time we give the birthday girl everything she has been wanting," Somi says.

you groan get up and head to your place.

you open the door and Somi and you are run over by the overwhelming scent of Arousal and lust in the air. both of you hear moaning and echoing but no sign of Chaeyoung.

"Oh babe Somi texted me she's on her way. Please fuck me before she gets here. I haven't been able to cum all week. I need your cock," Chaeyoung moans. At that point everything Chaeyoung has been doing to you. A light in your brain turns green that hasn't been green since your first night with Chaeyoung. without a word and in a flash you strip and your body moves on its own with a hunger you didn't know you had.

"Wow," Somi says seeing you move like a demon to her. you find her fucking herself with a toy desperately trying to cum but can't.

you spread her already open legs and line up your erect cock with her moist cavern. the two of you lock eyes as images flash through both of your minds about what you would do to the other.

When you plunge in she's tighter than the first time you tasted her.

"Ahhh," Chaeyoung moans. Normally you'd ask if she was okay but you are too far gone at this point. you rear back and slam into her with a violent intensity. Chaeyoung moans turn into screams. Thank God the two of you soundproofed your little love nest because otherwise the two of you would have woken the neighbors.

You thrust in and out of Chae as she is reduced to a blubbering mess.

"Fuck Tiger keep moaning for me. I am going to murder this cat," You groan as you thrust into her. out of the corner of your eye, you see Somi sneak to your girlfriend's side, and before Chaeyoung can moan Somi shoves her sizable bust in Chaeyoung’s haeyoung's face

"Suck on my fat tits Chae. I know you want to," Her friends say lewdly. the scene only serves as fuel for your already considerable fire. You keep thrusting in and out of Chaeyoung and watch as she sucks on her friend's tits. You smile at the lewd scene only one thing is missing. Nearing your release you pull out of Chaeyoung who whimpers pathetically before you cum over the ladies’ bodies. Ropes upon ropes of white semen paint both of them as you watch with perverse pleasure. Chaeyoung and Somi moan in pleasure. They begin to make out and lick your cum off of their bodies. You’re still hard though and you start to stroke your cock.

“Where do you want it, Tiger,” you ask

“Fuck Somi stuff her with that fat cock,” Chaeyoung moans as she breaks from the kiss switching Somi and her position.

“Yes please fuck me with that fat cock,” Somi agrees. Chaeyoung moans as she breaks from the kiss switching Somi and her position.

“Yes please fuck me with that fat cock,” Somi agrees. You watch as Somi spreads her legs while Chaeyoung sucks on her tits. Without a thought, you plunge into Somi who moans. While you fuck Somi you yank Chaeyoung up to you and kiss her. You force your tongue down her throat as she gives in the pleasure.

“You like how I fuck your best friend,” you ask as you pump in and out of Somi. Chaeyoung breathlessly nods as you plunge into her friend

“You want my cock to mark her womb as mine like yours?” You ask and Chaeyoung nods aggressively. You turn to Somi and grab her right tit and begin to knead it.

“What will it be Somi? You also wanna be my slut?” Somi screams yes in response

“Fuck me with that fat cock. make cum,” she screams as her wet cavern sloshes around. Where Chaeyoung is Tight and wet Somi is wet and slippery. Her pussy almost pushes you out with each thrust as you go in and out of her. It’s pleasant though but not as much as Chaeyoung’s tight snatch. Speaking of Chaeyoung you move your hand to her left breast and massage hers with your left hand while massaging Somi’s with your right hand. Somi’s pussy seems to open up before she cums. Squirt comes out forcefully pushing you out of her cavern. Not wanting to stop you pick Chaeyoung up and put her into a full Nelson before plunging into her. Chaeyoung moans as she watches Somi keep cumming, she laughs, before saying,

“I think you broke her babe,” she says as she watches Somi unable to stop herself from cumming. You watch concerned for a moment until Chaeyoung pulls you into another kiss.

“Cum in me babe,” she says when you break it “fill me.” She whimpers. Her soft look sends you hurdling to your orgasm as you finally cum in your girlfriend. Chaeyoung also has her first orgasm of the night as the two of you continue to fuck each other through each other’s orgasms. After calming down the two of you fall next to Somi. Chaeyoung passes out in between the two of you. You’re still hard though and try to fight your urges. The three of you had been fucking for three hours. It was 3 am and you knew Chaeyoung needed a little rest she was such a tiny thing after all but your body demanded one more release. You trace Chaeyoung's back tattoo hoping to calm yourself down but your mind races with more ideas more ways to fuck her and have Somi watch. Unable to control yourself you lift Chaeyoung’s leg and plunge into her. Chaeyoung jolts awake in shock Somi smiles

“I told you Chae that you were playing a dangerous game,” she says as she’s watched Chaeyoung’s mind melt. You marvel at Chaeyoung she moans for you and you thrust faster. It was then that you realized you were fucking her ass. Somi watches before she starts touching herself as Chaeyoung's tight ass constricts around your cock. You tightly grip Chaeyoung’s wrists as you plunge into her tight hole.

“Oh fuck tiger I can’t stop,” you moan. Chaeyoung moans her brain overloaded from pleasure as she tries to talk you down but both of you are past the point of no return as you both cum again. Somi watches in glee, and for the first time that week you feel back to your normal self. You finally relax and go to sleep.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #male reader #chaeyoung smut #chaeyoung twice #somi smut #twice smut

[midmourn]

break ups with nct dream

♡ nct dream ﹒ gender neutral!reader genre angst warnings break ups, unhealthy coping, insecurities, some members dont think of themselves very highly, unintentional manipulation maybe ?? ( library )

mark who can’t stop pretending like everything’s fine. mark who is for once thankful of his busy schedule. because when his mind isn’t preoccupied, he finds it always going back to you. now, you only come to his mind late at night when he’s about to fall asleep only to wake up in four hours for yet another schedule. there’s a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he realizes the heartbreak is just as fresh as it was the moment it happened. thinks he let you go to easy but also respects you too much to argue. at this time, he’d be too busy talking to you on the phone to fall asleep. something he used to momentarily regret the next day, but now something he yearns for. he turns around and begs hypos to let him sleep.

renjun who wants to scream at the world and god and ask why is this happening. renjun who refuses to talk about it. he doesn’t understand what happened. he thought you guys were doing perfectly fine. you seemed happy, anyway. he can’t tell if he was just too blind to see that you actually were unhappy or if you were just a good actor. he finds himself thinking about what you’re doing, even when he’s busy. he misses you so bad that he’s so angry that you left. he gets even angrier when he sees you with another guy a couple weeks later. but he’s more angry at himself for letting you go. he thinks it’s easier to be angry than upset.

jeno who cries and then gets his emotions out at the gym. jeno who hits the punching bag so hard it manages to fall off the chain. he moves onto the wall next. he ignores the concerned stares from others about the bruises and split knuckles, but is the exact same otherwise. he thinks he’s doing okay, getting his emotions out in the form of his fists, because at least he’s still doing what he needed to do, right? he’s fine, he swears. when he’s laying in bed alone, he can’t help but wonder what you’re up to and type up a message that accidentally seems too much like a booty call. u up? wyd?

haechan who doesn’t have the energy to be his normal self. haechan who is too quiet, blends in with the walls when he’s normally the life of the party. his voice is literally hoarse from crying and begging you to stay for so long. he sends countless messages to you, enough to the point where you blocked him. people wonder where he is only to find out he’s been right next to them the entire time, thoughts consuming him. he spends time overthinking every decision he made in the last six months that led you to break up with him. he can’t find one. it must be him, though. you’d never break up with him without a reason, right? he wasn’t good enough for you, so he has to be better. and with that, he gets off his ass and forces himself into the conversation. he will be better, for you.

jaemin who is so mature when you bring it up. jaemin who doesn’t cry or act like he’s upset about it in front of others. people think he never loved you with the way he acts. that couldn’t be far from the truth. the only way he’ll grieve over your relationship is in his room, alone, with his babies. he accepts your decision, but the what if’s consume his thoughts. what if he hadn’t done that one thing you got angry at him for? what if he hadn’t missed your anniversary date? but he knows he was a good boyfriend, too. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get over you, doesn’t want to, but he knows he has to. he can only hope that you two will find each other later in life.

chenle who fights harder than he’s ever fought. chenle who wants to work it out. ultimately, you win. he cannot help but be a little bit pissed on how difficult you’re being, how you refuse to talk it out and avoid him. he doesn’t even know what happened. he doesn’t think you’re going to stay broken up so he doesn’t even bother shedding a tear. he thinks it’ll be something you two will laugh and then bicker about in fifty years. thinks you’re trying to make him jealous when you try to move on, and it works. doesn’t think before finally cornering you. he gave you your space, now it’s time for you to give him the answers he wants.

jisung who doesn’t understand the concept of space. jisung who has attachment issues. he’ll text you “good morning” and “good night” and tell you about his day without thinking about it because it’s like a routine for him by now. feels so bad and accidentally makes you feel bad for him with his countless apologies. will tweet about you on his priv and forget you’re still on there. doesn’t even want to think about you moving on, and him moving on is out of the question. he truly thought you were his soulmate, but he wanted you to come back to him in your own terms. he’ll spend forever making it up to you, anyway.

#kflixnet #k films #k labels #nct dream #nct #nct imagines #nct scenarios #kpop imagines #nct angst #nct reactions #na jaemin #jaemin imagines #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #mark lee #mark lee imagines #haechan #haechan imagines #jeno imagines #lee jeno #renjun imagines #huang renjun #park jisung #park jisung imagines #chenle imagines #zhong chenle #lee donghyuck #nct 127 #kpop angst #kpop scenarios

[benkeibear]

⋆꙳✧༄ Popping your cherry

❖ Character: Nanami

❖ Reader: female | AFAB

❖ Wordcount: 4.3k

❖ Summary: Nanami was patient until you were ready, giving you a night full of pleasure and taking your virginity in a gentle way

❖ WARNINGS: no dynamics, soft sex, oral (reader giving and receiving), fingering, squirting, pussy job, creampie, lots of pet names, consent checks, gentle aftercare, slight body worship

❖ A/n: I guess I'm writing again 🥹 thank you @nanamis-wifey-reye and @linpunny for encouraging me and also @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi for being mental support and proof reading this!

Nanami has been nothing but kind and patient with you ever since you two met, sure he had his moments where he snapped at you due to stress at his work but you never took it to heart, almost feeling bad that you didn't quite know how to help him since he always brushed you off before he would say something he regrets and you gave him the desired space. He would always come back to you after a long and hot shower, muscles relaxed, mood way better.

It wasn't until you happened to walk past his big bathroom when he took one of these showers when you found out what was really going on. Through the noise of the water hitting the tiled floor you could hear soft groans, followed by a few mumbled words… Was he masturbating?

Your hand was gently knocking against the closed door before you could stop it from happening, a few grumbles to be heard from the inside of the room. “It's open” He called out mere seconds later, his thick shaft still resting heavy in his palm, body hidden away behind the steamed glass of the shower. Swiftly you entered the bathroom and went straight for the shower, your clothes falling in a trail as you approached your lover “may I join?” You called out slightly hesitant, your cheeks heating up at the thought of seeing him like this for the first time but silence filled the room until he eventually spoke a small “yes”, unable to resist you any longer. Nanami wanted to take things slow with you, knowing you're inexperienced so he waited for you to make a move, to give a sign that you want him as much as he wants you - he was craving you, the image of your body clad in the beautiful sundress you wore once stuck in his head and leaving little space for imagination what your body beneath might look like. The thought of you was his sweet salvation and his downfall late at night when he couldn't sleep, during the day when he couldn't focus. Only you.

After taking a deep and shaky breath you opened the milky glass door of the shower, steam clouding your vision for mere seconds before it evaporated enough to see your lover standing in front of you, not daring to look down where you saw his cock standing proudly in the corner of your eyes. Noticing how you seemed to be frozen to the spot, Nanami tried to cover his manhood with his large hands, his eyes staying respectfully on your face, not once wandering. “Changed your mind?” He asked with a soft voice, not a hint of pressure behind his words, just curiosity but you quickly shook your head no to let him know that you did not change your mind. With a careful step you joined the blonde man in the shower, hot water cascading down your figure yet his eyes remained trained on your face.

“Warm enough?” He asked caring, his voice soft as silk when he spoke which seemed to calm your breath a little. “It could be a bit warmer… if you don't mind” you mumble, feeling a little awkward for intruding on him during such a private moment and now you just stand around in front of him, fidgeting nervously with your hands while he reached out to the faucet, brushing the soft skin of your arm which you had draped over your chest in a rather shy manner. This simple touch alone left your skin to erupt with goosebumps and your eyes wandered over his strong arms, ending at his chest before you looked to the dark tiled wall once more, the rippling muscles beneath his skin embedded in your brain now. “You don't have to be so reserved. I'm your partner after all” he pointed out lightly, not minding your eyes on him and as much as he wanted to just push you against the wall and take you, he remained patient and caring. He knew this was a rather big step for you to take already and he didn't want to scare you with anything but you simply nodded, unsure arms wrapping around his torso in a gentle hug.

Nanami held back a chuckle upon this sweet and innocent gesture, holding you close to his body underneath the big rainshower, hot water cascading down both your bodies now. He would lie if he said that your soft skin and your perked nipples pressed against him in such an intimate way didn't affect him but his body betrayed him already - erection twitching against your stomach and letting you feel just how badly he needed you. He cleared his throat and was ready to mumble out an apology for being inappropriate during such a delicate moment but you looked up at him with a newfound hunger hidden behind your eyes.

Without hesitation the blonde man leaned down to capture your soft lips in a heated kiss, his tongue no stranger to your mouth as the kiss grew heated like oh so many times before. The butterflies were doing cartwheels in your stomach when his large hands reached down to hold your hips, pulling you impossibly close to his body in an effort to get you even closer until you had to break the kiss for air, his kisses traveling to your neck and it was evident that both you you yearned for more than just a makeout session. By the time your hand stroked over his rock hard abs it was clear to him and he nodded almost breathless, craving the touch of your soft hand wrapped around his shaft for the first time and when you finally did he couldn't hold back a relieved groan. Nanami’s lips returned to yours once again as he guided your much smaller hand up and down the length of his cock, showing you just the way he liked it but the way your hand barely managed to wrap around his girth left his head spinning, desperate to maintain focus when his hands crept over to your body once more. Calloused hands resting on your hip and just below your chest, your nodding of wordless consent was all he needed to let his hands travel further, one pulling you closer as the other started kneading your chest. “You're so beautiful, doll” he managed to rasp out as his kisses returned to your neck once more, his low moans and pants filling your senses as your hand worked on his length to help him get off.

Your soft whines didn't go unnoticed by him when he gently rolled your pebbled nipple between his thumb and index finger, his lips now trailing down to take care of your neglected breast, the warmth of his mouth engulfing one nipple while his fingers played with the other and you started to rub your thighs together in desperation. “Let me take care of you” he mouthed against the soft flesh of your boobs and you could only nod, your hand working faster on him as his teeth tugged on your nipple ever so gently. He should have felt ashamed for being selfish but your hands working on him got him off faster than his own ever could, thick ropes of cum painting your stomach and hands only to be washed away by the water right away, his head resting in the crook of your neck for a short moment but before you knew it, his fingers were brushing against your thighs, begging for you to open up for him and you did.

Skilled fingers caressed your inner thighs until he finally reached your core and just as he touched the part where you needed him most his sweet touch disappeared, a small chuckle vibrating through his chest which caught your attention. “We should take this to the bedroom, I want to take my time with you” he mumbled into your ear, his voice hoarse from how aroused he's gotten by the thought of finally claiming you as his entirely. You didn't need to answer him either, the way you turned off the water within a mere second was answer enough and he shook his head at how eager you seemed to be.

Leaving the warmth of the shower first, Nanami went to get you a fresh towel, the soft fabric smelling like orchids and cotton, something you've started associating with him - with home. Just as he wrapped it around you, one hand stretched out to help you out of the shower and guided you to the bedroom you've been to a hundred times before. You should know the way by now but perhaps the towel that hung dangerously low on his hips, threatening to fall off was all you could focus on, grateful for when he gently scooped you up into his strong arms, the hint of chest hair tickling your skin before you were placed onto the bed with utmost care.

Warm hands untucked the towel from around your body to reveal your beauty to him, your body entirely exposed but you didn't feel the need to cover up, his gaze letting the heat rush to your cheeks. He made you feel wanted, desired like you're the most beautiful woman on earth - and to him you were. You were perfect in every single way, almost feeling bad that he's about to ruin you like this but he craved to hear you whimper and whine for more, pawing at his sculpted body when he takes you past the edge, begging for him, pleading to fill you up - making you his entirely.

Of course he will take his sweet time until he is sure that you can handle him, the thought of hurting you made his heart clench and… he's been staring for too long, your sweet giggle filling his ears. You broke the shell of the stoic man, you could make him crawl to you if you'd only ask. He was fully devoted to you and your love, craving you, his body screaming for you in every way - it was almost scaring him but he was undoubtedly yours.

Kneeling down just in front of the bed he pulled your body closer, your beautiful legs now resting over his shoulders until your glistening folds were right in front of his face, his blonde hair tickling your thighs when he started pressing open mouthed kisses along your supple flesh. Minutes that felt like hours passed and you needed him, going crazy with how badly you yearned for his pleasure until your hands found their way into his silk like hair, pulling him towards your core with pleading eyes. “Patience, doll” he whispered, his warm breath fanning over your folds and eliciting goosebumps over your body. You've never had someone this close to your heat but it was Nanami - you had no reason to grow shy nor embarrassed over your feelings for him, his rock hard cock letting you know that he was equally eager for this.

His amber eyes held nothing but warmth in them when he pressed a kiss to the mound of your core, looking for any sign of discomfort in yours. “Yellow if it's too much, red if you need me to stop” his words cut the silence in your room, accompanied by the thumping of your heart now picking up, almost sounding like a war drum. You nodded, unable to form words in the anticipation laced with nervousness but it was enough for the man between your legs, trusting you to let him know if you weren't ready to go on and you knew he would never pressure you into anything.

Your eyes fluttered shut when you felt his kisses travel over your mound onto your folds until his thumbs ever so gently parted them, exposing your wetness to him. Unsure what to expect you gasped softly when the first kitten lick of his tongue brushed over your exposed clit, fingers digging into his scalp at the sensation. You could feel him smile at your reaction, his tongue traveling through your folds in a zigzag motion only to circle your bundle of nerves, alternating between gently flicking it with his tongue and sucking on it until you were helplessly bucking against his face, the pleasure washing over you and catching you entirely off guard with its intensity that you couldn't even warn your lover - but he knew. Nanami's tongue kept playing with your clit until he heard the cry of his name leave your throat, begging him, for what you didn't even know yourself but the orgasm that followed was better than any you've given to yourself.

Allowing you to calm down his tongue slowed down its assault on your sensitive nub only to travel further down, lapping up your arousal like a man starved. The slurping noises were lewd but you didn't want him to stop, neither when he pushed his tongue into your entrance, nor when his thumb came down to rub small circles at your overly sensitive clit. Nanami was entirely lost in your taste, eyes fluttering shut and breaking eye contact for a moment and it made you swoon, seeing how much he enjoyed this - how pleasing you was pleasing him. Your juices kept coating his tongue, followed by soft groans against your heat only for his tongue to leave your entrance and return to your clit once more.

“God. You're so addictive” he mumbled into you, the hand which rested on your thigh now joining his tongue, his index finger gently circling your entrance to gauge a reaction from you, seeing if you show any signs of it being too much but you were babbling at this moment, cunt clenching around nothing when his tongue started his assault on your bundle of nerves once more. Nanami was certain that you needed this as much as he did, ever so gently pushing his finger into your untouched hole just to feel how tight you clench around him from the intrusion. Nodding you started grinding against his face and finger, needing him deeper, needing more and he heard you, briefly pulling his finger out of you before replacing it with his middle- and ringfinger. Your cunt sucked them in, almost struggling to accommodate his thick digits - the stretch much more than your fingers ever managed and when he curled them into your sweet spot it was over for you once again. A loud whine erupted from your throat as the squelching noises of your pussy grew in volume “Ke-Kento… too much” you whimpered helplessly to get him to slow down but the second your sweet voice reached his ears a clear stream of liquid splashed out of you and against his tongue. His fingers slowed down the moment you begged for it but your orgasm already washed over you already, legs shaking violently on his shoulders when he lapped up the juices that just squirted out of you.

Your ears were ringing as your lungs desperately tried to get air back into them, not even noticing how your lover was raking his hands over your thighs in a caring manner, absolutely mesmerized by you. He knew very well that your body was pushed past its boundaries so he wanted to stop or at least give you a break but you finally came back to your senses, your gaze still hungry despite looking utterly fucked out by just his tongue and fingers. “Don't stop… please” you whimpered, begging him for more. Oh you little vixen, knowing exactly how to play his heartstrings - how is he supposed to deny you such a request when he could devour you whole?

A single kiss was pressed to your right thigh before he put it down onto the bed, shaking his head with a breathless chuckle when he caught a glimpse of your frown. “You're going to be the death of me, love” he mumbled amused, your left leg now lined up with his chest and shoulder as he stood between your thighs. The feeling of his cock resting just above your heat made you want to scream, the kiss that was placed upon your ankle provoked the smallest whimper to erupt out of you. “Please Kento” You encouraged him, being entirely certain about going this step with him and he nodded, thumbs spreading your folds once more to get a view on how wet he got you, a small puddle forming underneath your ass on the bed and he deemed it good enough to drag his length through your cunt, slowly.

Nanami wouldn't last long if he made love to you now, far too riled up from all your moans, your taste and the way you squirted just from two of his fingers working their magic on you. “Ken… i need you” you begged, soft voice sounding strained now, almost desperate but he only picked up his pace slightly, his tip now nudging your clit just the right ways to have you mewling for him once again, hands digging into the bedsheets from how sensitive you were by now and it needed everything inside of him to not push his cock inside of you when he felt close.

You could feel the twitching of his shaft against your wet cunt, heavy balls clenching as he spilled his seed over your heat and lower stomach, his head thrown back while a guttural moan left his throat. You really were going to be the death of him - now he was certain. Seeing your little pussy covered in cum did things to him, eyes darkening when he dragged the head of his cock through your folds once again to collect your mixed juices, only stopping when he arrived at your entrance. One last time his eyes wandered up your body to rest on your half closed eyes, looking so tired but so happy at the same time. Nanami needed to make sure that you still wanted this since you were almost at a point of no return. Sensing his hesitation you reached your palm out towards him, letting the man that stood tall like a tree between your legs lower himself so you may cup his cheek in the most loving way. “I want you, Kento Nanami. I've never been more sure of something in my life before” you whispered softly, the room around you falling quiet once more, only your heartbeats to be heard, hammering against your chests and begging to be united.

Your gentle giant couldn't ask for more from you, hearing you say it loud and clear - you wanted him, wanted this. His soft lips captured yours in an enchanting kiss and taking your mind entirely off of the way the bulbous head of his dick slowly pushed past your tight entrance and molding you to be his. A hiccup caused by your pain interrupted the sensual kiss but Nanami was quick to help you, halting his advances when his length was halfway inside of you, taking your virginity with utmost care. “Shh… you're doing so good for me, doll. Do you want me to stop?” His voice sounded strained, yet caring and it was clear that it took everything in him to not thrust the remaining half into you which was greatly appreciated. His forehead connected with yours after he pressed a kiss to yours, waiting for you to say something, anything. “G-green” your voice cut through the silence and allowed him to go on which he did, one of his hands still holding your leg to his chest while the other intertwined with yours, lips returning to yours in a desperate attempt to ground himself so he won't lose control. Hurting you was the last thing Nanami wanted to do after all.

His balls rested heavy against you when he finally bottomed out, his deep groan echoing off the walls when you raked your fingers over his well defined back, feeling every ripple of his muscles beneath his pale skin. “Taking me so- fuck… so well” he moaned breathless when his hips started to move with small thrusts, his thumb wiping a stray tear from your cheek and you're not sure if it was from the pain or the fact that he made you feel so incredibly good. Weakly you nodded your head, drinking the praise in like it's the essence that's keeping you alive. “My good girl” he continued, hips meeting yours with every word and he felt like his heart would beat out of his chest at any moment, seeing your jaw slowly going slack and your moans growing in volume to create this lewd image of his usually so sweet love.

Nanami had to halt, his chest rising and sinking rapidly from the way you manage to steal his breath, your wet cunt gripping him like a vice and trying to milk him from all he's worth and he wanted to just fuck you senseless right then and there, hips pistonning into you like his life depended on it… but he didn't - he couldn't. Not this time at least. Instead his hips moved in slow but deep, rhythmic thrusts which let him feel every ridge inside your heat and only adding to his bottomless hunger for you. You were moaning beneath him, angelic sounds to his ears but when he straightened up so he was no longer bending over you on the bed you suddenly cried out his name in pleasure, soft moans turning desperate for more.

The new angle made you feel even fuller than before, his tip angled perfectly to hit your sweet spot with every gentle thrust until your glossy eyes landed on his almost closed ones, nodding over and over “I know you're close, princess, just let go” he encouraged you, his thrusts picking up their pace to push against your sweet spot repeatedly until your toes curled and your back arched so perfectly off the mattress. His thumb rubbed tight circles onto your sensitive clit to drag out this earth shattering orgasm as long as possible - you deserved a first time to remember fondly after all but he just doesn't stop. Your breathless whines turned into cries for him, for more, for him to not stop. You were high on this feeling he gave to you, his hips rutting into you aimlessly at this point and his head was thrown back as his moans mixed with yours. “One more, just- fuck! Just one more” he groaned with a rough voice, needing to feel you clench around him in bliss again before he allowed himself to follow you.

When your pussy clenched around him as another orgasm rippled through your beautiful body he finally understood why they call it a little death. His hips thrusted into you a final time, burying himself as deep as he physically could while his dick twitched wildly inside of you and you could feel the way his balls contracted, slowly filling you up with his release. Nanami's vision went white for a moment, pure bliss taking over and his body feeling like he was floating on cloud nine - this is why they call it a little death. You were going to be his own piece of heaven, your core gripping his cock so tightly he felt like it was hard to breathe but at the same time you were the oxygen his lungs needed.

His barely there thrusts finally came to a stop and he lifted your leg off his chest and shoulder before lifting your body against his chest so you could be as close as possible without having to slip out. The way he fell onto the bed with you was almost clumsy but he didn't want to let go of you, not even for a fraction of a second.

His big hand came up to wipe a strand of hair behind your ear, a tired smile on his lips “Are you okay, doll?” he asks with his voice like silk, needing to know if you're fine and you nodded tired, laying on top of him now with your bodies still connected. Even with his own seed running out of you and onto his body and the bed beneath he made no effort to move, the moment too perfect. Your body was draped onto his, your limbs ever so tired as his hands ran up and down your back which was sticky from the sweat but he didn't mind it for one second. This moment dragged on for a while, gentle touches and even gentler kisses shared between lovers until your breath started to even out. In your half awake state you barely noticed how he carefully picked up your tired body to carry you into the room where it all began, only registering it when the sound of the water running and the scent of lavender filled your exhausted senses. “You can just rest, I'll clean you up” he whispered and lowered you into the warm water of the bathtub, following you mere seconds after where he let you rest against his chest again. You let your eyes remain closed when he picked up the softest washcloth, slowly dragging it over your arms, your torso, your legs and lastly over your sore pussy, still leaking his cum. There was nothing sexual in his touch, only tender care as he made sure to clean your body from any filth so you may rest and let him take care of you so you could wake in the bed to the smell of breakfast in the morning…

@enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x you #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 29

Warnings: major angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of an ED. get your tissues out, brace yourself for some pain. I cried and so will you. I'm so sorry for this.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Steve shows up at your doorsteps and you take care of him, the way you always did.

Word count: 10.5k+

A/N: shoutout to @hellfire--cult for helping me with this, I couldn't do this without you Roe, I would've given up, this was so hard for me to write. I need therapy now. Also thank you to my sweet angel bff @taintedcigs for being there for me while I was losing it, you're both real ones

To make this even sadder, listen to the 1, the last time, betty, the outro of all too well by Taylor Swift. Oh and Scott Street by Phoebe Bridgers. Thank me later.

series masterlist

-

It’s still pouring, the rain is still rolling down your closed windows and the lightning continues to crash through the sky. You can’t fall asleep. You’ve been trying to since you came home, but you can’t. You thought a hot shower would help make you tired, but it didn’t. Now you’re laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling.

You are too giddy to fall asleep. Your heart is still racing. Your skin still feels on fire. You can’t even fight the smile off your face. You feel his hands on your body, his lips on your skin, him. You regret not letting him come home with you. Your bed has never felt emptier. You turn to look at the telephone on your nightstand, contemplating giving him a call but you decide against it when you take a look at the clock, it’s 3am. He must be sleeping already. 

Your eyes fall on the picture that wiped the smile off your face when you walked into your room earlier. A sigh falls from your lips. You need to talk to him. You need to talk to Steve. 

This night has changed everything. 

Your feelings have changed. They have evolved into something even bigger. You have been aware of your feelings for Eddie for a while now, but you never let them out completely. You were too afraid, too scared to get rejected, too scared to lose him because you once again, couldn’t stop yourself from falling for your best friend. 

Your best friend who wants you just as much as you want him. 

Your stomach flutters and a smile tugs at your lips – your lips that are still tingling from the feeling of all the kisses. You touch them, closing your eyes as you picture him, the way he held you, the way he said your name, the way he couldn’t get enough of you, the way he was so proud to call himself yours. He’s been dreaming about this, he’s been dreaming about you for months.

You never thought that you could feel this way again. You never thought that you could smile again at the thought of someone else. You never thought that you would love again. 

Not after him. 

Steve had shattered your heart in a million pieces. He stripped you of your powers. He took everything away from you. He made you doubt yourself and everyone around you. You suffered for weeks and months, not knowing how to keep going, not knowing how to get out of bed every morning. You stopped eating. You stopped reading. You lost your joy in the things you used to love doing. You felt so lost and hopeless but you forced yourself to keep going. It felt like learning how to walk again. 

But you weren’t alone, you had the people who cared for you. 

But most importantly, you had him. Eddie was there. Eddie was there for you, every step of the way. He never left, not even on your worst days. He was there, he was always there and he stayed. 

Your heart skips a beat and your chest fills with warmth when you think of all the times he cheered you up and gave you a shoulder to cry on. When he took care of you despite you not asking him to. He stopped by the coffee shop every morning to get you a coffee and some breakfast, sometimes he came late to school because of it but he didn’t care. He’d take you out to the diner, knowing that you haven’t been eating, he brought you your favorite snacks for movie nights. He knew you were struggling to eat and he did everything to help you without pressuring you to talk about something that he knew would make you uncomfortable. 

He gave you the reassurance that you needed.

He took care of you in ways no one else ever did. 

And he never asked for anything back either.

He just did it because he wanted to, because he cares about you, because you mean something to him, because you always meant something to him, because you were always something more than a friend to him and he always wanted what’s best for you. All while watching you pine after a guy who broke your heart. He even gave you hope that maybe, you and Steve could find your way back to each other someday – all just because he wanted you to be happy. 

You don’t know what comes over you, but tears well up in your eyes. 

Eddie always just wanted you to be happy. 

You sit up, no longer wanting to wait for the next day to come, you need to see him now. 

You throw the cover off your body, your bare feet hit the soft carpet. Your hair is still a little wet from the shower you took but you couldn’t care less. You turn on the light on your nightstand before you rush over to your closet and pick out a sweater, not bothering to change into jeans or a skirt, you leave your plaid pajama pants on and throw the black sweater over your head. 

Your heart is pounding in excitement when you think about how he kissed you before you left, how he didn’t want to leave, how he wanted more and more. You can’t wait to do it again. You can’t wait to pull him into a kiss, to hug him, to tell him what you should’ve told him a long time ago. 

You take a look in the mirror, smoothing out your hair a little, you put perfume on your skin before you turn around and leave your room, slowly creeping down the stairs, not wanting to wake your mom. You leave the light off as you slip into your Vans, you grab your car keys and you open the door, about to step into night but the smile that was lingering on your face fades away so quickly when you find Steve on your doorsteps. 

Steve who was just about to ring the doorbell. 

Steve who is soaked from the rain, despite driving here. You can see his BMW in your driveway. How long has he been standing out in the rain? 

It takes you a moment to realize the state he is in. 

His face is not only soaked from the rain, it’s also soaked with tears. His eyes are red and glassy. His bottom lip is trembling. His body is shaking and you don’t know whether it’s from the tears or the cold rain. He is barely standing and as you take a step closer, you can smell the whiskey in his breath. 

Your heart drops to your stomach when you realize that he drove here drunk. 

“Steve?” You whisper as though in disbelief. 

What is he doing here at 3am? Why is he crying? 

Drops of water roll down his face, his hazel eyes are filled with pain as tears continue to fall from them. 

He says your name with a pained voice, shakily and sadly. 

“I-I needed to see you.”

Your heart breaks at the trembling in his voice. 

You furrow your brows, looking him up and down in concern. 

What happened to him?

“Dolly, I’m so– I’m so sorry,” he slurs as a sob falls from his lips. He loses his balance and stumbles forward, almost crashing to the ground, but you catch him, wrapping your arms around his waist and holding him up as best as you can. He instantly latches onto you, pulling you against him and holding you tightly. 

You blink in confusion, your heart starts pounding faster. 

He is crying, he is still crying, holding you tighter than before as he buries his face in your neck. You let him. Despite the confusion that is rushing through you, you let him hold you like this for a moment, only letting go to close the front door and taking the keys from his hands, before you wrap your arms around him again. The rain is soaking through your clothes, his tears are falling onto you, he is holding you so tightly, like he’s afraid to let you go. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper as you rub his back, not knowing what else to do. 

Did he get into a fight with his dad again? 

“I got you, Steve.”

Your words seem to make it even worse though, his body starts shaking even more as soft sobs fall from his lips. He grabs the material of your sweater so tightly, mumbling incoherent words into your neck. 

You feel so helpless, not knowing what to do or what to say, so you just hold him. 

This happened before, him showing up at your house in the middle of the night, drunk out of his mind with tears streaming down his face, he collapsed into your arms the moment you opened the door, rambling and slurring out words. You later on found out that he had gotten into a fight with his dad about his grades and his future. 

But that wasn’t all, you just don’t know the rest of the story, Steve never told you about the things his dad had said to him – how you would leave if he didn’t get his shit together, how you would go off to college by yourself and learn how to live without him, how he would stay back in Hawkins while you would live your life somewhere else without him. 

He is sobbing quietly, keeping his face buried in your neck, melting further into your arms. 

“Steve,” you whisper as you rub your hand up and down his spine. You longingly look at the keys you’re still holding, a soft sigh falling from your lips. You won’t see him tonight. “Come on.” 

“N-No,” he mumbles, thinking you want him to leave. 

“Let’s go upstairs, Steve.” 

You let go of him and grab his arms softly, trying to move back. 

He sniffles as he loosens his grip on you, leaning back, he looks at you through his glassy eyes. He takes in the sight of your face, taking a moment to look at you. 

You don’t know what’s going on in his troubled mind but his eyes tell you that he is suffering, and looking at you, makes him cry even harder. Though this time, he presses his lips together, trying not to sob. 

Your own eyes fill with sadness the longer you look at him. You move your palm down his arm, taking his hand, you hold it tightly as you lead him towards the stairs. You drop both yours and his keys on the counter, taking another sad look at them before you turn to Steve, making sure that he doesn’t stumble again. He is taking slow but shaky steps, holding your hand tighter than before. 

You look up, hoping that you didn’t wake your mom. 

You step into your room and you close the door after he walks in, noticing that you forgot to turn off the light earlier. 

His sniffles quiet down and you think the worst is over, that he calmed down after letting his tears fall, the tears that he probably kept in for way too long. Steve rarely ever cries or breaks down, he hates it, he hates being vulnerable. So, he keeps it in and he lets all his emotions pile up until there’s no space left. 

A look around your room, a glance at a picture of you and him, and the closed window is enough to make him cry again. He lets go of you and hides his face behind his hands. 

You feel so lost and don’t know what to do. Not even the worst fight with his dad resulted in this. Your own eyes well up with tears, your heart breaks at the sound of his cries. He once again, collapses into your arms the moment you take a step towards him, this time you lose your balance and your knees buckle causing you both to fall. You drop to your knees as he does too, still holding onto you, tighter than before if that is even possible. He wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in your chest this time. 

“Steve,” you whisper shakily, on the verge of breaking down yourself when he clings to you like he never did before. You know it must be bad. 

He feels your hand running down his back, cupping the back of his head, trying to calm him down as you do your best to comfort him. He breathes you in, something that makes his heart shatter even more. 

“I-I ruined everything,” he sobs into your chest. “I ruined you, I broke your heart, I broke you,” he slurs. “I-I was.. I found your note, I never read it. I never said I love you, I just, I didn’t say it back, I didn’t say I love you, I didn’t– I put it away, I didn’t read it until now.” 

Oh. 

Now you understand. 

You furrow your brows and your eyes blur with tears. 

It doesn’t break your heart to find out that he never read that note, it didn’t matter anyway, he dumped you the next day. You got your answer. But your heart hurts for the girl you once were. The girl who loved him so unconditionally. The girl who cried herself to sleep after each fight. The girl who just wanted him to love her back. 

You swallow the lump in your throat and tighten your hold on him. 

“It’s okay, Steve.”

He shakes his head and he pulls back a little, looking at you with his sad eyes. 

You nod before he can protest. You let go of him to cup his cheeks, trying to wipe the tears, but they keep falling and falling. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, trying to convince him but his hazel eyes look back at you so brokenly. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, reaching his hands up to grab your wrists. “I’m so sorry for everything I did to you, dolly.”

You shake your head, opening your mouth to speak but he cuts you off, not letting you. 

“Please forgive me,” he cries. 

“Steve..” You frown, trying to catch the tears that keep escaping his eyes. You forgave him already. You forgave him because you never wanted to lose him. The past cannot be erased, not even if you were pained or happy, so the only thing is to look forward, and you don’t want to lose him in the future. He needs to understand that but no matter what you say now, he won’t listen. 

“Dolly, you don’t understand.” As he says these words to you, he looks at you with pleading eyes. 

You shake your head, a pained expression taking over your face. 

He opens his mouth to speak when a knock on your door interrupts him. You tear your eyes away from him, looking at your door, startled. 

Your mom’s voice sounds through the hallway as she knocks on your door again, “is everything okay?” 

“Y-Yeah, hold on!” You call out to her before you turn back to him. Moving your hands down to his arms. “Come on, let’s get you up.” 

He doesn’t protest, instead he takes your hands and stands up with you.

You lead him towards your bed and push him down, placing your hands on his shoulders, you look into his eyes, “I should go talk to my mom, she’s probably worried about the noises.”

He sniffles, nodding at you. 

Before you can move away, your door opens, the light in the hallways shining into your room. You’re met with your mom’s concerned eyes, she looks at you first before her eyes find Steve’s figure sitting on your bed. Her eyes widen and she gasps as she takes in the sight of him. 

“Steve, honey, you don’t look good, are you okay?” 

That only seems to make him sadder. No sounds escape him but the tears fall even harder than before and the urge to break down yourself feels stronger than ever. 

Your mom looks just as helpless as you do, you may not talk to her about your feelings but she can read you like an open book, and right now, she can see how much you’re suffering too. 

“We’re okay, mom. I-I got this, you should go back to sleep.” 

She hesitates. Looking at you with worried eyes. 

You nod at her, pleading with your tear filled eyes. 

She sighs, face falling a little. You feel bad for shutting her out but she had enough to deal with herself in the past few years, she shouldn’t deal with your problems now too. 

She nods at you, taking another look at Steve before her eyes meet yours again, “let me know if you need anything.” 

“I will, mom.”

She closes the door, leaving you alone with him. 

You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep and shaky breath, trying to fight the tears. 

He is still holding your hand and crying his eyes out. 

You take a look at him and suddenly feel like throwing up because of the overwhelming pressure in your chest. You can’t take this. 

He looks up at you, tears rolling down his red cheeks, he looks so heartbroken and you can’t stand to see him like this. It hurts so bad. It fills you with so much sadness but also with anger because none of this would have happened if he wouldn’t have changed his mind about you. 

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, you’re gonna get sick if you stay in these any longer.” 

You turn around, letting go of his hand, you walk to your closet and open the door, taking out the box that you’ve been meaning to give him back months ago. You take the lid off and rummage through it until you find what you’re looking for, one of his old shirts. The whole time, you’re biting back tears, not wanting to cry. It’s hard not to when you have to face him again. 

Why does he have to begin this over and over again? 

You’ve been here before. You’ve done this time and time. You forgave him already, you gave him a second chance, you were ready to move on. 

Why does he have to do this now? 

He is staring at you with a sullen look in his eyes, there is so much sadness, so much pain and heartbreak in the eyes you used to love so much. 

“Here,” you whisper, placing the shirt on your bed, beside him. “Take your shirt off, Steve.” 

He can barely see through his vision, his bottom lip is trembling, his hands are shaking, his whole body is shaking from both the coldness that is seeping through his shirt and the pain that he put himself in. 

He reaches for the hem of his shirt, clumsily. 

You sigh and step towards him, leaning down, you push his hands away gently, grabbing the wet material and pulling the shirt over his head. 

“Do you want to take a warm shower?” You ask, putting your hands on his cold arms. “You’re freezing, Steve.”

He shakes his head. 

“Okay,” you sigh and hand him the black shirt. “Here, put this one.” 

“Okay,” he whispers, watching you take his wet shirt and walking into the bathroom. His eyes follow you like the ones of a lost puppy. He no longer feels the tears running down his face, he’s been crying all night, his chest has been hurting badly from the moment he started reading old notes. The way you’re taking care of him after everything that he has done to you, makes him feel even worse.  

You walk back into the room a moment later. 

He is wiping his tears away after putting the shirt on. You can tell that he tries to hold himself together, not wanting to break into sobs again, but you know that he is struggling to with his emotions in overdrive and the alcohol in his system. 

“I’m gonna get you some water–”

“No, please don’t leave me.”

You had never heard him sound so heartbroken, so desperate and scared. 

You had never seen him look like this, so fragile and broken. 

“Please.”

He takes your hand in his. 

“I don’t… I don’t deserve you–”

You sigh, shaking your head as you sit down beside him. 

“Steve, stop! We’re friends, we’re over this okay? You need to stop doing this, we talked it all out. I forgave you–”

He shakes his head, catching you off guard when he moves towards you and cups your cheeks. 

“I wanted everything with you. I wanted you to be the one so bad. I know we were too young to think so far ahead but.. I wanted it all with you, I wanted to marry you and have kids with you but then I fucked it all up, I ruined everything. I-I don’t know what happened to me, I don’t know what’s wrong with me and why I break everything.” 

Your eyes widen in shock, tears you can no longer hold back fall from your eyes and roll down your cheeks. You open your mouth but no words come out. You are too stunned to speak. 

You never knew how he truly felt about you and about your future together. You knew that he wanted to go to college with you but that was the only part about your shared future that was mentioned – aside from the promise he made to never stop loving you. 

Despite the state of shock that you’re in, you cannot help but cry for the girl that wanted it all with him. 

“I don’t deserve you, fuck. I don’t deserve you– and you don’t deserve me. You don’t deserve someone like me, you don’t deserve how I treated you, you don’t deserve how I made you feel, you don’t deserve the pain I made you go through, because you’re so good, and so perfect, and I destroyed that.. I destroyed you.” His voice is so shaky, his tears won’t stop falling, neither do yours. But he wipes them away softly. 

Your bottom lip trembles as you look at him in pain. 

“Steve..”

He searches for something in your eyes – anger, hatred, rage. But he can’t find any of it. After everything that he put you through, you still got love for him and it makes him hate himself even more.

He knew what he did to you, what he put you through. Yet, only tonight it really sank in, how much he truly hurt you. How much he hurt that one person that he would give everything for – his heart, his soul, everything. 

“I’m so sorry for everything, baby.” His voice breaks and he closes his eyes as he lets his head hang low. Only a second passes, before you pull him into your arms again. 

“It’s okay, Steve,” you whisper. 

It’s not okay. How could it ever be okay? 

He left a deep scar, one that you will carry for the rest of your life and there is nothing he can do to fix it. 

He wraps his arms around your body and pulls you in, closer and closer until you’re flush against him, in search of your warmth, he buries his face in your neck. He breathes you in and holds you tightly, like it’s the last time. Enjoying the feeling of your hand running up and down his spine as your other hand cups the back of his head. His lips touch your skin, he is unaware of the marks on your neck. He is unaware of who’s hands, who’s lips have touched your body tonight. 

“I’m still your dolly, Steve,” you whisper into his shoulder. 

Yes, you are still his best friend. 

Still his dolly. 

But never his girl again. 

You stare into nothing as you hold him, breathing slowly. Your lips are pressed against his shoulder, you tighten your arms around him even when his cries quiet down and his breathing slows down, you still hold him, not ready to let go just yet. 

The room becomes silent, so silent that you suddenly miss the sound of his voice. 

“Steve?” You whisper. 

His head is laying on your shoulder, his breathing slow and steady. You know that he had fallen asleep but you still whisper his name again. When you get no response, you move back slowly, careful not to wake him. You push him down softly, adjusting the pillow beneath him. 

Your eyes soften as you take in the sight of him. You scoot closer to him, bringing your hands up to his face, you wipe the fallen tears and caress his cheek. Running your fingers through his hair and pushing away the fallen strands. 

You blink, feeling the hot tears burning in your eyes. 

The joy in your heart faded the moment he crashed into your arms. Right now, it’s just hurting. 

You know why he came here tonight. 

Not for comfort. Not for a second chance. Not for forgiveness. No. He came to end things, once and for all. 

With a heavy heart, you tear your eyes away from him and push yourself up. You lean down to take his Nike’s off, you lift his legs up on the bed and grab the covers, pulling them up to his chest. You notice the wristband, the one you gave him two nights ago, he is wearing it. 

You can’t remember the last time he was here in your room, let alone in your bed. It’s odd, almost strange to see him here. 

You look out your window, noticing that the rain has stopped falling. You hear the tires of a car screeching through the night. Jimmy Davidson must be back from college, you think. The jock is the only in town who drives like a maniac – well, besides Billy Hargrove and Eddie. 

You take one last look at him before you turn around and leave your room, wanting to grab some water and advil for him. You close the door carefully and make your way downstairs. 

You notice that the lights are on in the kitchen. The smell of hot chocolate lingers in the air. Your mom is still awake. You find her sitting at the table by the window, with a magazine in front of her. A blanket around her shoulder and glasses perched on her nose.

You feel bad for waking her up, knowing that she works the morning shift this week. But just her presence alone gives you the comfort that you so desperately need, right now. 

She looks up when she feels your presence. She takes her reading glasses off and places them on the table, pushing the blanket off as she stands up, she wastes no second to make her way towards you, the same concerned look as before resting in her features. 

“Is Steve okay?” 

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat and blinking the tears away. 

“Yeah. He’s sleeping now.”

She knows that you’re not telling her everything, you never are. 

Sighing, she raises her hand towards your face, cupping your cheek as she gives you a smile, a sad one. 

“Are you okay?” 

Tears that you have just blinked away, well up in your eyes again. This time you hesitate. This time you can’t tell her that you feel okay or even good. You can’t hold your feelings back, not tonight. 

“You can talk to me. You never do and you always hold yourself back with me. I am your mother and I will listen to you, I’m here for you. So please, talk to me, sweetheart.” 

You look into her kind eyes and you suddenly feel like breaking down. You have been holding back for so long, hiding your true feelings, not letting them shine through out of fear that this would happen. 

But everything is crumbling now, all the last pieces that were holding you and Steve together had fallen apart the moment you had broken the barrier and kissed him. 

You don’t know where to start, there is so much to tell. 

So, you start with something you’ve been dying to get off your chest. 

“I love Eddie, mom.”

It feels like a relief to finally say it out loud, the words that you kept away for so long are now out in the open and.. it feels right. 

You watch for surprise to flash in her eyes but there is none. In fact, she doesn’t give you much of a reaction at all. A knowing look crosses her face, that’s all. 

“Is that why Steve was crying?”

You shake your head. 

“No. He doesn’t know,” you mumble, looking down. “I haven’t told him yet.”

“Then what happened to him?” 

You can hear the worry in her voice. You wonder if it will still be there when you tell her what he did to you. You never told her why he left. You never told her how much he hurt you. You never wanted her to think badly of him, not even after he broke your heart so carelessly. 

It feels like the world is weighing on your shoulders and the urge to throw it off feels so strong. You’ve been carrying it around for too long. 

“He came to apologize, to ask for forgiveness.” 

“Forgiveness?” She asks. “Did you two get into a fight?” 

“No, mom.” 

She tilts her head, giving you a questioning look. 

“Can we sit down?” You nudge your chin towards the table. “It’s a lot to talk about.”

She nods, a smile tugging at her lips. She wraps her arm around your shoulder and she leads you to the table. 

You sit down by the window and watch her move to the other side. She doesn’t take a seat though, instead she grabs the blanket and walks back to you, wrapping it around your shoulders and stepping away for a moment. 

Your eyes follow her in curiosity. 

She grabs your favorite mug from the cupboard and places it on the counter. 

You prop your chin on your palm and watch how she makes you a hot chocolate, the way you always loved it, with mini marshmallows on top. 

As you watch her move around in the kitchen, you realize how much you have missed this, how much you have missed your mom. This reminds you of older days, simpler days. Days where you had woken up from nightmares and sneaked into your parents room to wake your mom. She always knew how to comfort you. Instead of taking you back to bed and reading you a story, she always took you downstairs, made you hot chocolate and let you talk about whatever had troubled your young mind. 

And now you’re so much older and you don’t talk anymore. But you need to, you need to talk about it all so badly. So, you do. 

You tell her everything – from the sweetest note, to your overthinking, to all the fights she never knew about, to Nancy, to Tina’s Halloween party, to Eddie… You tell her absolutely everything. 

Tears fall as you talk about it all with a heavy heart. Relieving all the painful moments of your life and feeling the guilt of watching her eyes flash with sadness when she finally finds out the truth.

How you cried yourself to sleep. How you stopped eating and pretended to be okay in front of everyone. How heartbroken you were after he left. How unloved you felt for so long. How you have lost yourself after losing him before Eddie stepped into your life. How much Steve changed because of her. How he came back to you. How much he cared about you after all. How much he loved you after all. 

And as you finally talk, you can feel the weight getting lighter and lighter, falling off your shoulders but not completely. Not yet. But you let it all out, just like you tried with Robin but this feels different, your mom doesn’t try to lecture you, she doesn’t tell you what to do, what’s right and what’s wrong – she just listens because she knows that this is what you need. 

To talk, to cry, to feel. 

And when your tears stop falling and you calm down, she wraps her arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug. 

“You are such a brave girl. I know you had your friends with you, and Eddie especially. But you didn’t have to be alone in this. I was here. I have always been here, my sweet girl. You were never alone, you were never unloved.”

You close your eyes, ignoring the trembling in your lips and the shakiness in your hands as you hug her tightly, laying your chin on her shoulder. She rubs your back and squeezes you. 

In her arms you feel safe and comforted, you don’t need to hide, you don’t need to feel embarrassed or scared. You’re just safe and at home. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, mom,” you whisper when you realize how lost you’d truly be if you didn’t have her. “I’m so glad you’re here.” 

“I’ll always be here, sweetheart.” 

You sniffle, falling silent again. 

“You know.. I always knew by the way.”

“Huh?”

“That you loved Eddie.”

Shocked at her words, you pull away from the hug and stare at her with wide eyes. 

“I know how to see your emotions through your eyes, my love. I am not your mother for nothing,” she laughs while wiping away your fallen tears, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

You roll your eyes with a soft smile on your face. 

“And I also knew about Eddie’s feelings. That boy would blush every time he came to pick you up and you would come down with a new dress or skirt. I don’t know how you didn’t see his ears getting all red.” 

Your eyes grow bigger, softening after her words as you’re beaming at her.

“You think he loves me, mom?”

She giggles, staring at you as though you’ve gone crazy. 

“Someone would have to be blind and deaf to not notice that.” 

You blush at her words, though you can’t hide the excitement that crosses your face when you think about him, when you think about seeing him later. You look at each other, as though she can read your mind, you both start giggling. 

She looks at you fondly, squeezing your hand. 

“You know that I’m proud of you, right?” She smiles. “You’re so strong. You have always been a fighter.”

“No. Not always,” you shake your head. “I didn’t always fight for what I wanted.” 

“But now you do, right?” 

You nod.

“Yeah, now I do.”

Your mom looks towards the stairs. You know what’s on her mind. You saw the disappointment, the anger and the sadness in her eyes when you told her the truth about Steve. 

You know that she isn’t angry at him – she would have been had you told her the truth from the start. But a year has passed and things have changed. Steve has changed. You have changed. And despite what you have gone through, you still love him.

And that is another reason for your tears. Steve has always been a part of your life and she knows that you are afraid to lose him again. You might lose your best friend. 

“And do you still love Steve?” 

“I do..” You whisper. “That’s why it’s all so.. complicated.” 

“Is it?” She asks, giving you a small smile. “Or do you make it complicated?”

You tilt your head, raising your brows at her question. 

“You can love them both and they will both be special to you, no matter what. But you can be in love with only one person.” 

You let her words sink in, but your heart only hurts more. 

You have been here so many times already. You have told yourself that you let him go, you have convinced yourself that you did but did you ever let him go? Did you ever allow yourself to move past it? No. Because letting go of him always filled you with so much fear. 

“I don’t want to lose him.” 

The pain in your eyes is very telling. The sadness gives away who you are talking about. 

“But the love you once had for him is somewhere else now, right?” 

You’re biting back tears. And after a few minutes of silence, you nod. 

“I love Eddie, mom. I really really love Eddie.” 

She smiles at your words, taking your hand, she looks into your eyes. 

“You know what you have to do then.. right?” 

You nod, getting sadder each passing second. 

“Yes,” you whisper. “I just– I don’t want to hurt him anymore.”

“You will hurt him more if you don’t talk to him. You need to give him closure. It’s the right thing to do, and it’s the only way the two of you can be happy.”

“I know,” you whisper, shakily. 

She gives you an encouraging smile, “you got this, sweetheart. It’s gonna be okay.” 

“I hope so..”

She holds your hand a little tighter, giving it a squeeze. 

“You should get some sleep. You can sleep in my bed if you don’t wanna go back there. I gotta start getting ready for work now.”

“Already?” You frown as you turn around to look at the clock. It’s 4:30 am already. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry for keeping you up. You really needed your sleep.”

She shakes her head at you, “no, it’s okay. I’m glad you finally talked to me.”

You smile at her, tilting your head to the side, “me too.”

“Take it easy, okay?” 

You nod. 

She gives your hand a pat before she gets up, ruffling your hair playfully as she moves past you, making you chuckle. 

“Hey mom?” 

She turns around before stepping out into the hallway, looking back at you. 

“Thank you.”

Her gaze softens, brows knitting together.

“Of course, sweetie,” the soft sound of your mom’s voice sounds through the kitchen. “I’m gonna go check on him.”

“Okay,” you nod. 

She gives you another smile before she turns around, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

With a sigh, you look down and reach for the now half empty mug, you pull your knees up to your chest, taking a sip of the hot chocolate as you look out the window. 

It’s still dark out, the world is still sleeping, and you enjoy the last moments of this.

You’re not ready for the morning to come. 

You’re still not ready. 

-

Steve’s head is pounding, the pain is excruciating. He can’t open his eyes, not yet. The sun that is shining into the room is too bright. A groan falls from his lips and he clutches the pillow beneath his head, squeezing his eyes shut after trying to open them. 

He hears the birds chirping outside, he must have left his window open last night. He smells the fresh air, it instantly calms the sickening feeling in his chest a little. He sinks into the pillows and breathes in. 

The sweet and floral scent is so pleasant, it smells like you. He takes another deep breath, he smells your perfume, your shampoo, your vanilla body wash. His heart flutters and he can’t help but melt into the warmth of the bed and the scents that linger. He feels safe and comforted. 

It takes him a moment to realize that his pillows shouldn’t smell like you or your perfume. His bed isn’t usually this comfortable either. 

Steve opens his eyes slowly, groaning in pain when the light shines directly into his face. Hiding behind his hands, he sits up. He rubs his eyes and runs his hand through his messy hair. Turning his back to the window, he squints his eyes as he opens them again, trying to get used to the light. 

His throat feels so dry that it hurts and his head is killing him. He can still taste the whiskey on his tongue, it makes him nauseous. 

Once his eyes are fully adjusted to the light, he takes a look around the room and his heart skips in his chest, his red rimmed eyes widen when he realizes where he is. 

His stomach drops when he finds Advil on your nightstand next to a glass of water. 

“Oh fuck,” he groans as he buries his face back in his hands. Dread fills him when he starts to remember the previous night. 

The note. The Whiskey that he stole from his dad’s office. The tears that streamed down his face when he carelessly drove to your house drunk. You. He remembers the way you held him, the way you cried too. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, tugging at his hair. 

He chugs down the glass of water and after a moment of hesitation, he gets up from your bed and looks down at himself, noticing the new– well, old shirt. He puts on his Nike’s and walks into your bathroom to splash some cold water on his face but when he turns on the light and he takes a look into the mirror, he can’t help but feel sick. His eyes are red and puffy from all the crying, his skin looks pale and his hair has never looked worse than it does right now. 

He shakes his head at himself, hating his reflection more than anything, right now. 

With a sigh, he looks down, gripping the counter tightly, knowing that he has to face you now. 

He knows that there’s a small chance that you aren’t home, that you have left. But he knows that you wouldn’t do it while he is here, not even if you’re upset with him. 

After washing his face with cold water and using your mouth wash to get rid of that awful taste of whiskey, he walks back into your room, trying not to let the sadness take hold of him again but it’s hard not to fall into the pit of darkness again when he stands inside the room of the girl he loves, the girl he has made so many memories with, in here and anywhere else in this stupid small town. 

From good memories to bad ones. 

From innocent ones like picking flowers for you at the age of 12 to buying you a bouquet of flowers for your 16th birthday. 

From comforting hugs at school to cuddling in your bed at nights. 

From first kisses on your bedroom floor to more passionate kisses in his car after every stop at the streetlight. 

From making love in your bed to fighting in your room with tears streaming down your face. 

He sees the box on the ground, the one that you took out of your closet, last night. You kept his things, just like he kept yours. 

Did you struggle to get rid of them like he did? 

Did you keep them in hopes that you would find your way back together someday?

His hands are starting to get clammy, his heart starts pounding again. He takes another look around your room before he opens the door and steps out into the hallway. 

The faint sound of the music coming from the radio tells him that you are in the kitchen. He makes his way downstairs, ignoring the shakiness in his legs or his hands. The smell of coffee lingers in the air. 

He presses his lips together as he takes a deep breath before he steps into the kitchen. 

You’re leaning against the counter, your chin is propped on your hand, a book lying in front of you, you haven’t noticed him yet and Steve takes that as a chance to look at you. 

Your hand is wrapped around a mug that Eddie must have given you, you told him that he loves Garfield. He laughed about it when you did. 

It’s only 8 am. He knows you’re not working today, yet you’re already so put together. Make up on your already beautiful skin, hair done in waves, you’re wearing an outfit you certainly didn’t wear yesterday. God, you look so beautiful that it hurts. 

His heart longs for you, his hands itch to touch you – something that he could’ve done. 

In a different world, he would pull you into his arms and shower you with kisses, he would hold you, not wanting to let you go. He would make breakfast for you and then you would spend the day together. 

But you’re in this world. 

In a world where he can’t kiss you or hold you or spend the day with you. 

“Hey..”

You raise your head and your glassy eyes meet his. 

Another wave of guilt rushes through him. You cried. You cried because of him again. 

“Hi,” you whisper as you close your book and straighten your back, you look him up and down. 

Steve hates how concerned you look, how worried you are over him. 

You take a step forward, giving him a small smile. 

“Are you feeling okay?” 

He shrugs, trying to smile back at you. 

“I’ll make you a coffee, you should sit,” you nudge your head into the direction of the kitchen table. 

“Okay.”

He walks to the table and takes the seat that was once his. It’s been a long time since he sat here and watched you. 

You make the coffee first, pouring some into a Hawkins High mug. You add two sugars, still knowing how he likes his coffee. 

“When’s the last time you ate?” 

You place the mug in front of him, eying him with softness in your eyes, something that makes all of this even harder. 

He blinks, shrugging at your words. 

“Okay,” you sigh and pull back your hair, without thinking. “Bagels or Toast? I’ll make you some eggs if you want–”

Your voice becomes faint, like he’s under water, sinking further and further into the deep end. The marks on your neck are now visible to him, the hickeys that he left. Steve is not shocked or even surprised. He already knew when he came to you, last night. It was obvious, even through his drunken haze, he could see it in your eyes, the happiness that shined in them before you took in the sight of him. 

It still hurts. 

And it hurts even more to think about you with him, especially in that way. 

“Toast is just fine,” he mumbles. 

“Okay, Steve,” you whisper, this was always his go-to breakfast after a night out. Black coffee and toast. It’s plain but it’s the only thing he gets down. 

He keeps watching you. Eyes following your every moment. 

There is so much sadness inside of him but there is also more, there is acceptance. He knows why he came here last night. 

Bits and pieces start to return to him. He remembers what he confessed to you, how you held him, how you took care of him, how you comforted him. 

He truly never deserved you.

You place a plate in front of him, “you sure you want nothing else?” You point to the buttered toast. You added a few berries on the side. 

He gives you a smile, “you know I’ll probably get sick if I eat anything else,” he says, chuckling for the first time today. 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “You always had a weak stomach.” 

“Only when I drink whiskey.” 

You nod, sitting down opposite of him. You take a sip of your coffee and lean back. You look down and reach for the magazine that your mom was reading earlier, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by staring. 

Steve looks up at you and he just knows it’s the last time that he will have your coffee and your toast. 

It’s the last time he will get to sit here with you. 

So, for a moment, he pretends that everything is alright, that this is normal, that this is something you both do every day and for the rest of your lives, that he didn’t mess up, that everything is fine. 

He takes a few sips of the coffee and eats the toast, and when he’s done, he takes a deep breath and pushes the plate aside, not looking up from the coffee just yet. 

“I’m sorry.”

You close the magazine, sighing as you finally look up. 

“You said that already… many times, Steve.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. He only looks up at you, his eyes scan your face, his lips twitch. 

“You look happy, dolly.”

What?

You shake your head a little, furrowing your brows as you stare at him in confusion. 

“You have color in your skin again, you no longer.. are skin and bones,” he says, quietly. Looking down as his eyes fill with guilt, knowing that you stopped eating because of how heartbroken you were. “Your hair is longer, your nails are painted black– a color I didn’t like you putting on because I was a fucking asshole..”

“Steve–”

He shakes his head at you, not wanting you to interrupt him. 

“You wear stuff you always told me you wanted to buy, you started wearing makeup, the heavy kind you once tried and loved but thought it was too much,” he says with a smile on his face, a knowing one. 

You see the way his eyes fall to your neck and your heart jumps when you realize what he is looking at. Surprisingly, there is no shock in his eyes, jealousy or even anger, just sadness. He knows everything and it’s not the marks on your skin he needed to look at. 

“You are living again.. and god, I want to hate him for it but.. how can I when he saved you from the pain I put you through?” 

Your eyes burn with tears. 

“I’m done standing in your way–”

“Steve,” you whisper, shaking your head. “Y-You’re not standing in the way.”

“Yes, I am.” His voice is thick with tears and by the way he is blinking, you can tell that he is trying not to cry. 

He looks down at the necklace you are wearing, the locket he had put around your neck, months ago. 

He knows that there is no picture of him inside and as much as it hurts, it’s okay. 

He didn’t come here to fight for you. He didn’t come here for a second chance or to get you back. He came here to let you go. So you could find happiness, the way you always deserved it. 

“And I don’t want to anymore. I want you to be happy.”

Your bottom lip starts trembling again. 

“And I know that you will be with him,” he says as he tears his away from the marks on your neck and he looks into your glassy eyes. “He would never do what I did. He would never put you through all of this.” 

You sniffle, looking into your best friend’s eyes. There is so much pain and sadness lingering in them and you hate it, you hate it so much. 

“I never let you go, dolly,” he finally admits with a heavy sigh. “Not at Tina’s Halloween party, not when I came to see you the next day, not after we went to Jimmy’s party together. I never let you go.” 

Your brows knit together, eyes that stare back at him with pain, fill with more tears. You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing and you look into the brown eyes you always loved so much. 

You never let him go either, that��s why it hurts so much. 

Knowing that this is the last time crushes your heart in a new way. You know that this could not only be the end of the relationship you always held onto. This could be the end of everything. 

This was always your worst fear. Losing him. 

You have lost him before but you always knew that he would come back. 

And he always knew it too. 

But this, this is different. 

And this hurts even more than it did the first time. 

You still love him, there is no doubt about that. Steve can see it in your eyes, it’s in the way you look at him, it’s in the way your lips tremble and your hands shake as fear crosses your face. You’re scared to lose him. 

How could he ever think anything else? How could he ever doubt your love for him when it’s so clearly written on your face? Even now. 

Steve can’t help but wonder; would it have worked out between you if there wasn’t someone else? 

If Nancy never stepped into his life. 

If Eddie never stepped into your life. 

Would you have stayed together? 

Would you have broken up either way? 

Would you have found your way back together in the future? 

Would he have been able to make it up to you? 

Would you get your happy ending then?

“I dropped some heavy stuff on you last night,” he mumbles, cheeks flushing red when he remembers all the things he had said to you. 

“Oh, you mean marriage and kids?” You ask as a smile tugs on your lips when you see him blushing. 

He scratches the back of his neck, scrunching his face up, “yeah..”

You laugh a little, leaning your elbow on the table, you cup your cheek, “well, I never thought that far ahead when we were still together. I mean, I never knew what I wanted for my future but I knew that I wanted you in it,” you say, watching the way he nods at you. “And maybe a cat or a dog.” 

He chuckles. 

“Or maybe a few cats and a dog.” 

A fond smile reaches his face as he stares at you, shaking his head at the thought of all the pets you’d bring home while he’d– his smile begins to fade, it will never happen. 

“Well, I’m sure that Eddie will love that.”

Your heart flutters at the thought of a future with him. Yeah, Eddie will love that. 

“You’ll be happy with him. He will make you happy,” he says confidently because he knows that he will. “And if not, well, then I’ll take you back to that treehouse and I’ll marry you again.”

A laugh falls from your lips as a tear finally rolls down your cheek. 

“The treehouse we got married in when we were ten?” 

“Yeah,” he whispers. “That one. You know I still got that paper ring,” he says with a serious face.

“I do too, I put it in a box,” you giggle. 

His eyes light up and he smiles at you, but he watches the tear roll down your cheek and then another. He stands up and he walks over to you, his heart skips a beat when you look up at him with your beautiful eyes. He cups your cheeks, wiping away the tears. 

“I don’t want you to cry over me anymore,” he whispers, holding your face for the last time. 

“Steve,” you whisper, shakily. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

You knew that this was coming. You knew that this had to happen. If he didn’t come to you last night, then you’d be the one coming to him to talk and put an end to this, once and for all. 

“I love you with all my heart and I ache for you, all the goddamn time but I don’t deserve you. You should have never forgiven me. You should have never treated me like a friend. You should have never given me the chance to be near you again… not after what I did.”

You grab his wrists, shaking your head at his words. Scared that he will leave you for good. Scared that he will leave your friendship behind and step out of your life forever. 

Steve hates to see the way your lips tremble, the way your eyes are nothing but tears, sadness and heartbreak, yet again. 

He can’t stand to see it any longer. 

“I let you go,” he whispers as he wipes your tears again. “Like you asked me to months ago.”

His heart is screaming at him not to, everything inside of him longs for him to stay, to fight for you, to drop to his knees and ask to try again. 

But this is the right thing to do. 

There is someone who can give you more than he can. 

Someone who didn’t hurt you. Someone who wouldn’t hurt you. Someone who would rather get hurt by you than do something to break your heart. 

“I choose you, sweetheart. This time, I choose you and your happiness.” 

A sad smile lingers on his face, he brushes your hair back and he looks down at the locket, one last time. 

He knows why you aren’t speaking, you’d break down if you would. 

He leans down, tilting your head up a little, he presses his lips against your forehead, kissing you one last time. 

His throat feels tight and his chest is hurting, he knows that he is on the verge of another breakdown, he is so very close to it. 

This is the hardest thing he will ever have to do. 

“Goodbye, Dolly.”

Your sniffles break his heart. You only hold his wrists tighter in response, holding onto them, your touch lingers on the wristband, one that he will never stop wearing. You let go after a few seconds. 

He feels your eyes on him, your big sad eyes. He can’t bear to take another look at you, knowing that he won’t be able to leave if he does, so he steps away from you, despite his heart telling him not to. 

He turns around and he walks away from you for the last time. He grabs his keys that you left on the counter, last night. 

With a heavy heart, he walks out of your house, biting back tears as he makes his way to his car. 

It’s over now. 

Something he held onto since he left you, is over. 

And now he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

He unlocks his car when the front door bursts open, startling him. He turns around with tears in his eyes that threaten to spill. Before he can even react, you suddenly crash into his arms, and wrap your arms around him, you hold onto him like you’re afraid that he might disappear if you let go. You hug him so tightly.

His eyes soften and his chest fills with warmth. 

He doesn’t hesitate to hug you back, wrapping his arms around your smaller frame, he holds you tight and buries his face in your neck. 

No matter what happened in the past. No matter what he did to you. No matter how much pain you have gone through, you still don’t want to live in a world where he isn’t in your life. 

After all, he will always be the boy who picked flowers for you, who surprised you with your favorite snacks, who comforted you whenever your parents fought, who slept in your bed when you were afraid of storms, who taught you how to slow dance, who wrote you notes when he was younger, who promised you to be your prince when your first crush rejected you. 

You hold onto him, pressing your cheek against his chest. 

You stay like that for a moment, for a long moment – one that could never be long enough. 

He breathes you in and closes his eyes, ignoring the fluttering in his chest. 

He knows that this should make him feel better, to know that you love him enough to forgive him, to want him to stay but if anything, it makes him feel worse because he is still losing you.

He knows he has to walk away, for now. 

“I love you, Stevie.” 

He smiles sadly. 

He knows it’s not the same as it was. It’s not the I love you’s from all your notes. He knows it’s not the same love he feels for you, not anymore.

But the love you always had for him. The love you had since you were kids. 

And for him that’s more than he could ever ask for. 

“I love you too, Dolly.”

You sniffle, he can feel you shaking against him. You’re trying not to cry. 

“Please don’t become a stranger again, Steve.”

His breath hitches in his throat, he presses his lips together, willing the tears to stop from falling. 

“Me?” He asks, pulling back to look down at you. He musters up a smile. “I might need some time but I will latch onto you as soon as I get over my whiny ass.” He jokes, despite the pain in his heart. 

You roll your eyes but laugh at his words. 

You take a deep breath and sigh. 

This is it. 

This is what was supposed to happen. 

It hurts but you also feel relieved to finally put an end to something that kept holding you back for so long. 

You know you won’t truly lose him. 

He will always be your Steve. 

And you will always be his Dolly.

But it won’t ever be the same. 

You will be his friend and he will be yours and that’s all you’ll ever be. 

You won’t be sad forever and neither will he. 

He will find love after you. 

He will find it like you did. 

It’s what he deserves. 

It’s what you both deserve. 

“We kinda got friendship bracelets now,” he smiles through his tears, pointing to the wristband as he holds his hand up. You reach out to touch it, tracing the words. 

‘love you to the moon and to saturn’

“Well, I got one, you have a necklace.” 

You smile, placing your hand on the locket, “yeah.” 

You turn it around, looking at the half moon that he got customized just for you. 

You tear your eyes away from him and look around, furrowing your brows when you realize something. 

“You know what, we should stop doing this.”

“What do you mean?” He asks, tilting his head. 

“Saying goodbye in my driveway.” 

He chuckles, though it’s a sad one. 

“This is the last one,” he whispers. “Of this kind, at least. Our future goodbyes won’t be so…”

“Sad?”

“Yeah.” He takes your hand, giving it a squeeze. 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.”

He takes a step forward, he leans down and kisses your cheek, not paying attention to the feeling in his heart or the way his lips tingle when they touch your skin for the last time. He gives your hand a squeeze before he pulls away again. 

“I’ll see you around.” 

He can tell that you’re trying not to cry,  that you are forcing a smile onto your face. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you around, Steve.”

You can tell that he wants to say more. He looks at you. His eyes trace every inch of your face, like he’s trying to memorize you. And then, he nods to himself, blinking and giving you one last smile before he turns away from you. 

You watch him leave. 

For the last time, you watch him walk away from you. 

You stand there and wait until he is gone, until you no longer see his car in the distance. 

And just like that, he is gone, again. 

And your tears are falling again. 

-

A/N: I know that no one cares about my feelings cause I did this. But I want you to know that I freaking suffered writing this chapter. It felt heartbreaking and sad and wrong. I really wanted Steve to be the one. And my choice has nothing to do with the fact that I'm an Eddie girl, I love Steve, as well. (I know some of you don't believe this but I've loved him since 2016 so shut up, please and thanks). I didn't know how to make him come back from all what he did -- the emotional cheating, the pain he put her through, the heartbreak, the betrayal. It was too much and this ending genuinely has nothing to do with Eddie being in this story.

But also, please remember. This is not the ending of the story. So before you send any hate to me, remember that there will be another chapter and an epilogue. Anything can happen in an epilogue, just saying.

Also, I'll be working on a new Steve series. Strictly Steve x reader, I promise

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @take-everything-you-can @trashmouth-richie @succubusmunson @xxhellfirebunnyxx @somethingvicked @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @munson-mjstan

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington series #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things angst