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[stevie-petey]

episode eight: the battle of starcourt

He fights with it, tries desperately not to let it fall, all while his resume hangs from his mouth. “Shit! Oh, Fast Times! Ever heard of it? Top three for me, Keith.” Robin laughs and Steve turns the cardboard cutout to you, wiggling his eyebrows. “Own any red bikinis?” You flick his forehead, though you laugh as well. “In your dreams.” “I can sleep right now and find out–” “I will flick you again.” “A kiss is preferred, but whatever.”

Summary: jonathan becomes a certified surgeon, hopper returns and is oddly sentimental (wonder what that could mean !), you and dustin show off your musical theater talents, the mind flayer becomes a track star, fireworks become weapons, and really a lot just happens so suddenly it gives you whiplash. dont worry though, the rest of your summer involves painful goodbyes and the scary realization that youre growing up. absolutely disgusting. but at least steve gets to kiss you whenever now, so hooray for that ! side note: you keep making promises to people, surely there wont be narrative foreshadowing as a result !

Rating: general, violence and swearing

Warnings: blood, swearing, major character death, graphic depictions of violence, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 21.2k (ouch)

Before you swing in: this was my magnum opus. truly. so so so much happens in this chapter, this episode is INSANE. it took me a while, the scenes were hard and complex, but im happy with the final results :) ive been waiting a long time to write this ending, to set up the strings for later in season 4 <3 i sincerely hope this chapter is all yall have wanted. if theres any glaring typos, pls ignore because its 21.2k words and im weak from rereading it. anyways, i have a sneaky lil link right here that will make sense at the end of the chapter (spoiler alert: it's a mixtape jonathan makes for bug). enjoy !

-

El’s screams tear out of her body. She writhes in pain, sobs claw out of her throat. It’s unbearable to watch, the sight of her in immeasurable pain. It breaks your heart. 

No one knows what to do. 

Mike thrashes in your arms still. He tries to escape your hold so that he can cover his body with El’s. Take away her pain somehow. But you won’t let him. You know that it hurts him to see her this way, but his panic will only drive El’s panic further.

“What is that?” Disgust litters Erica’s face as she stares at the moving creature within El’s leg. Gently you push the girl away, not wanting to crowd El too much. She needs space to breathe. 

“There’s something in her leg,” Mike sneers into your face as he fights against you again. He’s furious, he’s overwhelmed, he just wants to help. “Let go!”

Your arms tighten around the boy. He isn’t in the right state of mind. Frantic, you look to your left and start forming a plan. “Jonathan, my switchblade is in my left back pocket. Grab it.” He stares at you, unsure what to do, and you raise your voice into a yell. “Grab it.”

Jonathan jumps at the command and his hand disappears behind you. You feel him find the weapon and pull it out. He holds it in front of you, offering it, but you don’t accept it. “Go and disinfect it. There’s a gas stove where you found us. Heat up the blades so that we can–” you swallow as nausea fills you. “We–we have to cut it out of her leg.”

The moment Jonathan is gone, you turn your attention to Mike and Steve. You try to keep your voice leveled, try to contain the blinding panic that screams in your head. El needs you right now. Swallowing again, you start to speak to them. “I need you guys to talk to El. Keep her awake.”

“Right, okay.” Mike nods, and you finally release him. He hovers over El, his voice is gentle as he tries to calm her. “Hey, stay awake, okay?”

You tug Steve towards El’s legs so that he can help you move her into a better position. “Get her onto her side. Mike, put her head in your lap.”

Both boys do as they’re told. Everyone watches, and Robin tries to make light of the situation. She rambles about a girl from her soccer team who once broke her leg. How the bone had ripped clean through her skin. The story makes you shiver, and Steve sees the discomfort. “Robin, hey. You’re not helping.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jonathan returns, out of breath. “Okay. Alright, El?” He looks down at the girl. Tries to steady his breathing. “This is gonna hurt like hell, okay?”

El whimpers out that she understands, and you take hold of her hand. “Sweetheart, you need to brace yourself. I promise it will be over soon.”

“I’ll be fast, but I need you to stay real still. Here,” Jonathan hands a wooden spoon to Mike. “You’re gonna want to bite down on this, okay?”

Teeth bared, El clenches her teeth around the spoon. Her body braces for what’s about to come. Kneeling next to her, you angle your body over hers and pin her arms down with your hands. You look at Mike, ordering him to do the same. “Hold her shoulders. Don’t let her go, no matter what.”

He pales, but swallows deeply and nods. When Mike is in position, you signal to Jonathan to start cutting. “Do it.”

“Okay,” Jonathan inhales. The knife you’ve given him shakes as he holds it over El’s wound. He’s fucking terrified, but he knows it’s the only way. Exhaling, he cuts into her flesh. Blood pours from the wound and El’s screams tear from her chest. 

Everyone makes a sound of disgust and horror. Your own stomach lurches at the sight of Jonathan cutting into the leg. The image, the way El’s body convulses, the screams she releases, it’s all too much. You don’t feel yourself shaking until Steve guides your head into the nook of his shoulder, shielding you. 

“Thank you,” your breathing is shaky. You aren’t even sure if he’s heard you, but Steve nods and his hand rubs up and down your back. He’s doing whatever he can to help, being the solid surface you need to lean upon. Lending you the strength you need to hold El down and save her. 

You hear your knife glance against the ground, followed by El’s scream becoming deafening. Unable to stop yourself, you pull away from Steve to look at what’s happening. When you do, you almost gag. Jonathan’s fingers are now in El’s leg, digging underneath the flesh and muscle to find whatever the hell is in there. A horrible squelching sound fills the air. Faintly you think you can hear Will crying behind you. 

Jonathan struggles, digs deeper into the leg, but it only seems to be making everything worse. El twists and contorts beneath you, in agonizing pain. Her screams only intensify. A tear from your eye lands on her shirt, and you force yourself to hold her down despite how desperately you want to end it.

“Goddamn it!” Jonathan can’t find it. He can’t find whatever the hell is in El’s leg. It keeps moving the moment he thinks he has it. Everything is slick from blood. 

“No!” El spits out the wooden spoon, her voice raw from screaming. “Stop it!” 

You can’t stomach her pain any longer. The moment she pleads for it to stop, you move off of El and push Jonathan away from her. Nancy helps, touches his shoulder to alert him as well. The moment she has the room to, El sits herself up. “I can do it.

“Do what, El?” You ask, though you think you know anyways.

She breathes heavily. Tears flow freely down her face. She’s sitting down, one of her knees is pressed against her chest. The injured leg remains flat on the ground, her hand outstretched above it. Static, the one you always feel when El uses her powers, surrounds you. There’s a low hum, she grunts and screams, and yet her hand remains steady. You rub her back, offering her all the strength you can give her, in awe despite the poor timing of it. 

To have the strength to expel a foreign object from your body. You can’t imagine it. 

El releases one final long, harrowing scream. The lights flicker, the windows behind you rattle violently. You only just barely manage to cover Dustin and the kids from the shards of glass before they explode. At the same time, a small, writhing creature shoots from El’s leg. It stalls in the air, hovering in front of her face as she continues to scream. The creature is no bigger than the size Dart had been when Dustin first found him. The idea that it had been buried in El’s leg makes you feel ill. 

With the last of her energy, El flings the creature across the room. It lands with a sickening thud on the floor, before it starts to move. You watch in horror as it scurries away, releasing its own screech, until Hopper’s boot crashes down upon it, killing it. 

You’ve never been happier to see that cranky son of a bitch. 

Joyce stands behind him and you whimper pathetically when you see her. You miss your own mother. It’s been days since you’ve last seen her. You’re more homesick than you’ve ever been before. 

Alongside Joyce and Hopper is a man you’ve never seen before. He has glasses and a beard. As you study him, Jonathan makes a surprised sound. “Murray?”

“You know him?” 

Jonathan nods at you. “He’s the detective Nance and I visited last year.” 

“He’s insane.” Nancy says, though there’s a nostalgic smile on her face. 

Hopper steps forward, investigating the scene. Glass crunches beneath his boots. He stops in front of you and El. He looks down at you. “Always at the scene of the crime, huh?”

“Yeah,” you blow hair out of your face. “Can’t seem to ever stop myself.” Then, finally noticing his aggressively bright and floral shirt that he’s wearing, you tilt your head to the side. “Nice shirt, by the way. I like the color on you. You’ve been direly needing some color in your life.”

Dustin snorts and El manages a tired smile. Hopper rolls his eyes at you, though you can tell it’s more from fondness rather than annoyance like it usually is. You watch as his eyes drift towards Joyce, uncharacteristically shy. “Thanks, kid.”

“Anytime, old man.” 

– 

“The Mind Flayer, it built this monster in Hawkins, to stop El, to kill her and pave a way into our world.” 

You sit on the fountain’s edge. Dustin is next to you, Steve leans against you on the other side. Mike’s words surround you. 

He explains what he and the others have been dealing with while you’ve been gone. Innocent people have been getting possessed and turned into chemicalized substances. Their bodies melting together, conjoining to create a monster meant to kill El. With every detail Mike remembers, your stomach twists uncomfortably. It doesn’t sound real. It sounds like a thing from nightmares.

And somehow Billy has become the face of it. 

The last time you saw him, he had been a shell of who he used to be. He had been in pain. Obvious pain. Sweat had run down his flushed skin and his eyes had a frost in them unlike anything you had ever seen before. Instead of helping him, instead of telling anyone about this, you had abandoned Billy. 

“How big is this thing?” Hopper asks, shifting so that El can rest more comfortably against him. 

Jonathan sighs. “It’s… It’s big. Real big. Thirty feet, at least.”

“You’ve seen it?” Your eyes draw to the bruise on his forehead. The pained noise he made when you hugged him still rings in your ears. 

“We’ve had a rough night.” Nancy whispers, eyes downcast. 

“It sorta destroyed Hopper’s cabin.” Lucas looks up at the chief, a poorly feigned apologetic smile on his face. “Sorry.”

Steve interjects now. He asks questions, tries to make sure he understands. As he speaks with the group, your head falls onto his shoulder. Your head spins. Only hours ago you were dealing with Russians and national emergencies. Now, you and Steve try to wrap your heads around the idea of a giant human goo creature wreaking havoc on Hawkins.  

Which, according to Max, is still very much alive. 

But that doesn’t stop Will from trying to help. “But if we close the gate again–” 

“We cut the brain off from the body.”

“And kill it.” Lucas finishes for Max. “Theoretically.”

It sounds so simple, but you’ve been here before.

You’ve heard this conversation already; you were standing in the Byers’ dining room. Steve had been next to you, just like he is now, and Jonathan had been on your other side. The people surrounding you were the same, only now Robin and Will join. That November, the conversation had terrified you. Closing the gate. Killing the Mind Flayer and destroying its army. 

It had been the exact same conversation. And it terrifies you still, now. Only this time the fear is accompanied by an emptiness.

You’ve been here before. It hadn’t been enough. 

“How many more times are we going to kill it?” Your head remains pressed against Steve. Your eyes don’t lift from the ground. Exhaustion sags your body. “We thought we already killed the Mind Flayer. We went through hell and back to close the gate, only for it to be opened again not even a year later. By another country. I mean,” laughter crawls out of your throat. “Who’s to say that they won’t just open the gate again? They’ve already done it once–”

“Loverboy over here,” The bearded man from earlier, Murray, suddenly appears and slaps the back of Jonathan’s head. The man has a mad smile on his face, the kind that tells you he’s an insane genius. After Jonathan shoves him away, Murray stops in front of you. He looks down, a curious glint in his eyes. “He told me you were a ray of sunshine. Gotta be honest. I’m not really getting a real sunshine vibe from you.”

Steve subtly shifts your body so that he’s in front of you. His eyes are narrowed, body tense. “What’s that in your hands?”

Murray seems to now remember what he interrupted the group for. He clutches the pieces of paper in his hands, waves them in the air. “Ah. These, my perfectly coiffed haired friend, are blueprints.” 

“That’s just a poorly done drawing of squares and lines.” You squint at the papers. They’re no better than the map Mike had scribbled to navigate the tunnels last year.

“Seriously,” Murray turns back to Jonathan again. “I thought she was supposed to be the nice one.”

You open your mouth to argue, not at all liking whatever this random man is insinuating, but Hopper steps forward first. “Just start talking.”

He sighs, but agrees. Motioning everyone to follow, Murray guides the group to a nearby table so that he can lay his drawings out for everyone to see. “Okay, this is what Alexei called ‘the hub’.” Murray points to the center of the first drawing. “Now, the hub takes us to the vault room.”

“Okay, where’s the gate?” Hopper hovers over him, attentive. 

“Right here.” Murray now points to a random box, far from where you know the gate actually is. You bite your lip, unsure if you should speak up just yet. “I don’t know the scale on this, but I think it’s fairly close to the vault room. Maybe fifty feet or so.”

You snort obnoxiously loud, getting everyone’s attention. “You’re so wrong that it physically pains me.”

“I’m sorry?” Murray gives you an odd look. When Jonathan and Nancy showed up on his doorstep last year, the two of them had nothing but great things to say about you. Jonathan had waxed poetry about you while Nancy had sat at the dinner table, resentful. Now, meeting you, Murray is really struggling to understand where that all came from. 

“It’s more like five hundred feet.” Erica says. When she sees Murray’s exasperated expression, she can’t help but laugh at the old man. “What, you’re just gonna waltz in there like it’s commie Disneyland or something?” 

“And who are you?” 

“Erica Sinclair. And who are you?”

“Murray… Bauman.”

“Listen, Mr. Bunman.” You have to stifle a laugh into Steve’s shoulder. You love Erica, you really do. “I’m not trying to tell you how to do things, but I’ve been down in that shithole for twenty-four hours. And with all due respect, you do what this man tells you, you’re all gonna die.”

“I’m sorry, why is this four year old speaking to me?”

You slide off the fountain’s edge and stand. Whoever this guy is, you don’t like his snippy attitude. “She’s ten, actually, and she’s right.”

“Yeah, you bald bastard!” Lucas reprimands her, but she doubles down. “Just the facts!”

While you enjoy her quips, you gently grab Erica’s shoulders and place her behind you. There isn’t time for her to make a grown man cry. “We went through hell down there. It won’t be as easy as walking fifty feet. The place is huge.”

“They’re right.” Dustin speaks up. “You’re all gonna die, but you don’t have to. Excuse me, may I?” Even before Murray has consented, your brother is already grabbing the blueprints. He sits down and starts explaining. “See this room here? This is a storage facility. There’s a hatch in here that feeds into their underground ventilation system.”

“It’s how we accidentally got in.” You add, figuring any extra information could help.

“Wait, you accidentally broke into a secret Russian lair?” Mike tries to hide it, but you can see that he’s impressed. You know that once this is all over, he’ll grill you for details later.

“No, we thought it’d be fun to get tortured by commies on the fourth of July.” Steve points to his swollen eye. “Yes, Wheeler. It was an accident.”

“Guys!” Dustin shouts. When he has everyone’s attention again, he sighs. “Jesus. Anyways, these vents will lead you to the base of the weapon. It’s a bit of a maze down there, but between me, Y/N, and Erica, we can show you the way.” 

Hopper stares down at the three of you, unamused. “You can show us the way?”

Dustin is about to agree, but you cover his mouth with your hand. “Yes, I can show you the way. The kids can stay here, but I remember everything from when we were down there. If you want all the hero glory, then fine. Fight some Russians. But I can be your navigator.”

“No.” Hopper, Steve, Dustin, and Jonathan say at the same time. 

You roll your eyes at all of them. “Okay, I was only talking to Hopper. The rest of you,” you glare at your brother and the two teens next to him. “Aren’t a part of this conversation.”

“There isn’t a conversation to be had, kid.” Hopper scoffs at you. He doesn’t want to hear whatever you’re about to say. He won’t let you back down there again. From the state Steve is in, Hopper doesn’t even want Joyce coming with him. “You’re not going. End of discussion.”

“You don’t seriously expect me to let you walk into a death trap, right? I mean, I know we argue a lot, but you can’t be that dumb.” Hopper has started to walk away now, trying to put an end to the conversation, but you follow him anyways. “Listen to me!” He ignores you, doesn’t turn around. Instead, Hopper starts gathering bullets as he picks up a shotgun from one of the guards on the ground. Groaning, you continue to chase him. 

You don’t care how annoying you’re being. You’ll nag him until your last dying breath. If he doesn’t want you getting hurt, then he has to understand that you don’t want him getting hurt either. “Hopper, I’m serious. El…” You look at the girl, who is far behind the two of you now as she rests near the fountain. Your voice grows thick. A wave of emotions rush over you, seeing her. She’s so small. She’s still just a kid, despite the power that lies within her. “She needs you. You–you can’t get hurt.”

“And I won’t.” 

“You don’t know that,” you grab the man’s shirt, but he tries to walk anyways. You plant your feet on the ground and grit your teeth. He’s frustratingly strong. “Please, just–you’re her father. You–you can’t leave her–” You stumble over your words, try to think of how to convince him. There has to be a way, a middle ground. Isn’t he the one who taught El what compromise means? 

In your nagging midst, you overhear Dustin and the party all catch up. Talk about how they missed one another. It’s a sweet reunion, seeing them come together again after being separated for so long; your boys are together again. It feels like a lifetime ago where they were all together on Weathertop hill. Seeing them together again, it hits you. 

The walkies. Cerebro.

“What if I could still communicate with you from above?” You shout, frantic. Hopper stops walking. He still doesn’t look at you, but he indicates that you have his attention. Taking a deep breath, you don’t waste any time. “We have walkies. Dustin, all the kids. It’s how they communicate with one another. Always have. What if… what if I give you directions using them? That way, you’ll fulfill your annoying need to be a hero while I fulfill my annoying need to protect everyone.”

Your words come rushing out, messy and jumbled, but Hopper seems to understand. He’s quiet, mulls what you’ve said over and over again in his head. He inhales, closes his eyes, and then exhales agonizingly slow. When he opens his eyes to look at you, he’s resolved. “You’re really annoying, you know that?”

A relieved smile graces your face. Knowing you’ve gotten through to Hopper, you finally release his shirt. You straighten it back out, wipe some dirt off of it. It really is a good shirt, one you know was almost definitely purchased for a woman named Joyce Byers. “It adds to my charm.”

Hopper chuckles, shakes his head, before walking over to where your brother stands with the others. He fishes a walkie from his back pocket, tosses a spare one to Dustin. “Hey, heads up. Your sister came up with a shockingly genius compromise. You guys can navigate, just from someplace safe.”

Dustin sighs. “It’s not that simple.”

“The signal won’t reach.” Erica clarifies for him. 

You motion at them to explain faster. “But…”

“But,” Dustin quickly explains your idea. “We’d need something with a high enough frequency band to relay with the Russians’ radio tower. But for that to work, you need someone who has both seen their comms room and has access to a super-powered handcrafted radio–”

“Dustin,” you hit his shoulder, urging him to get to the point already. “Just tell him about Cerebro.”

“I was getting there! Look, we have one already situated at the highest point in Hawkins.” Your brother shakes his head. “If you need us to navigate, we got you. But we need a head start… and a car.”

“Hey, chief.” You stand beside Hopper now, grinning ear to ear. “Don’t you have a car?”

He stares past you, and the rage in his eyes amuses you immensely. It’s taking everything within him not to start yelling, which only causes your shit eating grin to grow. You extend your arm, hold your hand out palm-facing upwards. This is the best day of your life. “Come on, give me the car keys, Hopper.” 

Sucking his teeth, Hopper drops the car keys into your hand. “I hate you.”

Hopper stands in front of you, annoyance and irritability in his eyes as he stares at you, but you don’t care. A surge of warmth cascades through you instead. He listened. It means more to you than the man could ever know. Your arms find their way around him, surprising both you and Hopper, as you pull him into a hug. “Thank you for listening to me.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t make me regret it.” Hopper says, his voice rough. He clears his throat, allows his hand to pat your shoulder. He may not know what you’ve gone through, but he thinks he can understand the weight the history has left you. It’s the same weight that he carries every day. The guilt, the anger that follows it. He clears his throat again and pulls you off of him, keeping you at arm’s length. “Do me a favor, will you? Make sure El and the others are safe.”

You sniff, wipe away tears. You’re not sure why you’re crying. “I will, I promise. Good luck, old man.”

“Good luck, kid.” He hesitates, still holding your shoulders. His breath hitches and his eyes don’t leave yours. There’s something in them, almost a certain kindness that once reflected in your father’s eyes when you were younger. The gaze burns you at first, but you stare back at Hopper through it. After he seems to find what he’s looking for, Hopper swallows. He says what Joyce has always said about you; from his conversation with the woman back at Melvald’s. “You’re the best of them.”

More tears well in your eyes, but you wipe them away before he can tease you. Hopper releases you, shoves you in a playful manner, and you can’t help but laugh. It’s a warm moment. His words simmer on your skin. You’ve heard them before, you know what people say about you, but the words are different coming from Hopper. 

Praise doesn’t come naturally to him. Words have always plagued him; the ones he has just told you hold a weight that’s even heavier than the guilt the two of you carry within yourselves. You’ve known Jim Hopper for three years now, but as you watch him walk over to El, soft smile still on his face from his conversation with you, you finally understand him. 

–

Steve is waiting for you at the fountain, whispering quietly with Robin. The two of them stand off to the side, away from the others. He’s nervous, uncomfortable. He stands with his back away from Jonathan and Nancy, who are a few feet away talking to Murray. His arms are crossed over his chest and his fingers tap together in an anxious tick you’ve become familiar with. 

The moment he sees you approaching, all the tension in Steve’s body melts away. 

He grabs your hand the second you’re within reach. Pulling you into his chest, he kisses the top of your head. “Any updates, angel?”

You hum against him, allowing yourself a moment to bask in his warmth. It’s been a long day. It’ll be an even longer night. “You know Weathertop hill?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Good.” You place Hopper’s keys into Steve’s hand. “You’re driving us, then.”

Robin points at Jonathan, who sneaks glances at the three of you. “Define ‘us’. Because, no offense, he seems nice and all, but he keeps looking over at you like a lost puppy and it’s making me uncomfortable.”

“Be nice, he’s still my best friend.” Flicking her forehead, you silently scold Robin. “And it’s just going to be the three of us with Dustin and Erica. Jonathan and Nancy are taking the rest of the kids to Murray’s bunker. He’s just… He’s worried. Probably wants to make sure he says goodbye to me before we leave.”

Robin makes a confused face, reminding you that she’s new to all of this. That she hasn’t had to say goodbye to her loved ones every year with the fear of them not returning. You sigh. “It’s… Kinda a tradition, at this point. A final goodbye before all hell breaks loose.”

“How many times do you guys almost die on a weekly basis?”

Steve snorts. “Depends on the month. November seems to be our worst one, though.”

“Astounding…”

You leave Steve to deal with Robin’s amazement on his own, though you laugh as you walk away. Ever since the events of Will’s disappearance, you’ve done everything you can to not think about what you’ve all been through. However, seeing the bewildered amazement on Robin’s face the more you reveal to her, you can’t help but laugh. 

Jonathan sees you approaching him and Nancy and steps aside to make room for you. They’re still talking to Murray, although the man is more lecturing them than anything. He holds up a bunch of keys, explaining in great detail which one goes into specific locks. It’s dizzying trying to keep track of it all. 

Secretly, you’re grateful that you’re going with Steve and the others. Easier key instructions. 

“This one is for the second to last bottom lock–”

“Murray, can I cut in real quick?” You try to be polite about it, but truly you don’t care whether or not you have the man’s permission. 

He glares at you. “Aren’t you already?”

“Good point!” You grab Nancy’s and Jonathan’s arms and pull them away with a wicked smile on your face. When you’ve dragged them far enough away from Murray, you wrap your arms around them both. Jonathan sinks into the unexpected embrace. Nancy stiffens. You try to ignore it. “Get to that old man’s bunker safely, please?”

“Of course, bug.” Jonathan has wrapped an arm around you. He closes his eyes, his fingers span across your back. “Stay at Weathertop, get to safety. Maybe even get some rest while you can.”

“I’ll try, bee.” Your laugh is wet. This will never get any easier. 

Nancy shifts in your embrace, and for a moment you’re afraid she’ll pull away entirely, but instead she surprises you by wrapping an arm around you as well. Her chin is tucked against your neck, she still hasn’t melted into the embrace like Jonathan has, but she’s trying. Lips close to your ear, she whispers, “I’ll keep him safe.”

You suck in a breath. You hadn’t known how desperately you needed to hear Nancy’s reassurance, to hear her silent apology. Pulling away from them, you look at Jonathan and Nancy. “I love you. I love you both.”

Jonathan smiles, the same way he did the night you met him on the Wheeler’s porch. Nancy ducks her head down shyly, the same way she did the night she opened the door to let you into her home. 

You squeeze their hands one last time before leaving to say goodbye to the others. 

Lucas wishes you luck, Will hugs you as tight as ever, and El offers you a partial smile. She’s still recovering from whatever the monster did to her leg, so you brush some hair out of her face and kiss her head.

“Sucks you were down in hell this whole time. Could really go for a brownie right now.” Mike says, a light in his eyes as El’s head rests in his lap.

You stick your tongue out at him. “Sorry, couldn’t find a way to bake while getting chased by Russians with guns.”

“Lame.”

“Goodbye, Wheeler.”

Then you turn to Max, who has been silent this entire time. She hugs you tightly when she sees you. “He’ll be okay, right?”

Your body goes stiff. Somehow, in the midst of Hopper and the others, you had forgotten about Billy. How he’s infected. Flayed. It hasn’t escaped your notice that no one seems to want to bring the matter up, either. When it had been Will, everyone had wanted to make sure he wouldn’t die if the gate closed. 

But no one has asked the same question for Billy. 

Swallowing, you slowly reciprocate Max’s embrace. “We’ll… We’ll find a way. We always do.”

Though the words aren’t meant to be a lie, you can’t help but feel that you’re breaking an oath when you say them. 

– 

Steve hadn’t noticed what brand of car the keys belonged to at first. However, the moment his brain recognizes the iconic Cadillac logo on its keychain, he practically starts to drool. A fucking Cadillac.

It doesn’t take him long to round everyone up and drag you outside.

“I was saying goodbye to Joyce,” you grumble, struggling to keep up with Steve’s quick footsteps.

“It’s a Cadillac, Y/N!” Steve can almost feel the foam pooling around his mouth. His footsteps increase even more, his body vibrating at the knowledge that he gets to drive his dream car. His dad hadn’t wanted to buy him one, said that the BMW was more practical. Reliable. When Steve pushes the mall’s front door open and sees the beautiful, timeless car parked perfectly in front of him, he almost collapses. “Oh, man, now this…This is what I’m talkin’ about!”

“‘Toddfather’?” Robin points out the license plate and its horrible name.

You make a face, but Steve doesn’t let her ruin his moment. He’s ecstatic. This is arguably the best thing that has happened to him all day (besides maybe kissing you). For fuck’s sake, it’s a goddamn Cadillac. “Oh, screw Todd! Steve’s her daddy now.”

Steve hops into the car’s front seat like a little kid with a toy car. Meanwhile you, Robin, Dustin, and Erica retract your heads in disgust at what he’s just said. Robin looks at you, repulsed. “Did he just talk about himself in the third person?”

Erica follows up with her own creeped out question. “Did he just call himself daddy?” 

“I’m choosing to ignore him right now.” You say to both of the girls, pressing a hand to your forehead as you walk to the car. There’s so much you don’t want to unpack with what Steve has said. 

“You can’t ignore me, Y/N.” Steve leans over the center counsel and opens the passenger door for you. “We already established that I’m really annoying.” 

“Just take us to Weathertop, please.” You buckle yourself in and make sure the kids have their seatbelts on as well. When you see that Robin has found herself in the middle seat, you snicker at her. She’s squished between Dustin and Erica, her knees are pressed uncomfortably to her chest.

“Why did I get stuck in the middle?” She complains.

Steve fixes one of the mirrors before revving the engine. As he pulls out of the mall’s parking lot, he offhandedly responds, “Passenger seat is reserved for girls I’m dating.”

Everyone in the backseat gags, and you blush furiously. You and Steve haven’t had the time to talk about your relationship. Or if there even is a relationship. But he’s just referred to you as the girl he’s dating. He kissed you yesterday, or was it today?

Time has blurred together, but Steve’s hand rests on your thigh as he drives and you’re his girl. 

There will be time to talk about all of it later. You’ll make sure of it this time. 

Steve’s foot presses on the gas, speeding through Hawkins. Neither of you were given an exact time frame from Hopper, but he presses down harder on the pedal and sends the car flying. There’s music on the radio, doing its best to distract everyone, but your hands are still antsy. You’re nervous, there’s still so much left unspecified within the plan. Steve notices your fidgeting fingers and removes his hand from your thigh to play with them; he’s trying to soothe you. 

You intertwine your fingers through his and smile at him. Steve winks back at you, and you admire how lovely he looks as he drives. The moment is broken when Robin shoves her head between the two of you. “What the hell is a Cerebro?”

“It’s basically a radio tower that Dustin built for his girlfriend, Suzie.” You explain to her, voice raised to be heard over the music and wind. “She lives in Utah.”

Robin raises an eyebrow, intrigued. She leans back in her seat and pokes Dustin’s shoulder. “Suzie must be really special, huh? I mean, if you built this thing and lugged it all the way to the middle of nowhere just to talk to her.” 

Your brother preens at this, pleased someone has recognized his romantic efforts. “I mean, nobody’s scientifically perfect, but Suzie’s about as close to being perfect as any human could possibly be.”

“She sounds made up to me.” Erica snarks from the backseat. She looks over at Steve, tries to get his opinion. “She sound made up to you?”

Steve hesitates for just a fraction of a second too long, and you sigh. Dustin notices it, too. “Why are you hesitating, Steve?”

“I–I’m not!” He looks to you for help, but you only shake your head at him. All he had to do was respond promptly. This is his own fault. “I’m not hesitating! I–I think she sounds real. You know, totally, absolutely real.”

“Not really loving your uncertain tone, Steve.” You say, and Dustin nods in agreement. “Suzie is real. I mean, I’m almost positive that she is.”

Dustin does a double take at your use of the word “almost”. He’s about to say something, demand to know why you’re not certain Suzie is real, before he notices that Steve is about to miss the Weathertop turn. “Left, turn left!”

“There’s not a road here?” Steve argues, squinting his eyes in the dark to see whatever the hell the kid is seeing.

Dustin screams at him again to turn, and you only have a second to brace yourself before Steve jerks the wheel. The car’s tires screech on the asphalt as your body gets thrown forward. You scream, getting war flashbacks to when you’d been in the back of Billy’s car as Max had very recklessly driven you and Steve to the tunnels. Somehow, this is so much worse. 

The car breaks through a fence and your screaming only intensifies. “What the fuck?”

“Hendersons, where are we going?” Steve screams to you and your brother. He’s desperately trying to keep hold of the steering wheel as the car struggles against the hillside’s grass. 

“Up!” You and Dustin exclaim. One hand clutches the door, the other clutches the seat. The entire car is practically at a ninety degree angle as Steve continues to drive up the hill. It’s bumpy, your head hits the back of the seat more times than you would like, and your heart races. 

The car makes a concerning amount of strange noises the further up the hill you drive. Robin clutches her stomach. “We’re not going to make it!” 

“Yes we are!” Steve does everything he can. His foot never leaves the gas. “C’mon, baby. C’mon!” 

“Sweet talking the car won’t help!” You shriek after a particularly rough bump leaves you nauseous. The poor car strains against the giant hill. The tires, not at all made for off-roading, get caught in the grass. 

Steve hits the wheel and curses. “C’mon! Please!” He presses harder on the gas, but the car comes to a stop. The tires move uselessly against the slick mud underneath.

Ill and desperately wanting to get out of the car, you unbuckle your seatbelt. “We can walk the rest of the way, Steve.” He gives you a despaired look, pleading with you to let him continue playing with his new car, but you roll your eyes at him. You’re five seconds away from vomiting, he can deal with abandoning the car. “The Toddfather is dead. We can mourn her later.”

Steve groans but turns the car off as everyone gets out, preparing for the walk ahead. The hill is just as steep as it had been earlier this week when you were with the party. While you’re annoyed you have to walk it again, at least this time it’s night and the heat isn’t as suffocating. 

When you reach the crest of the hill, Dustin immediately runs to Cerebro. He crouches next to the radio and turns it on. “Bald Eagle, do you copy? Bald Eagle, I repeat, this is Scoops Troop, do you copy?”

Bald Eagle had been your idea. 

“Scoops Troop?” You ask your brother.

He nods, proud. “Thought of it myself.”

“Not bad, buddy.”

Murray’s voice crackles over the walkie. “Yes, I copy.”

Everyone lets out a breath of relief when you hear him. So far, the first phase of the plan seems to be working. Cerebro can reach all the way down to the lair; you can communicate with Hopper and Joyce. So far, so good.

Dustin starts to give Murray the directions he’ll need for the vents. You and Steve roam the perimeter of the hill, weary and needing something to do. While you’re far from the Russians below you, you still don’t necessarily feel like you’re out of harm’s reach. Robin stays with the kids, figuring it’s best to give the two of you some time alone. 

You stare out into the view of Hawkins from so high above. Weathertop has always been your favorite spot in the small town. Your first summer in Hawkins, Jonathan had introduced you to the hill; you used to spend all your time up here with him. You’d spend hours running up and down the length of it, giggling and sunkissed. If you stand still enough, you can still hear the laughter in the breeze. You miss Jonathan and being kids with him. 

“I haven’t been up here in years.” Steve stands next to you, voice soft. He stares out into the field as well, admires its beauty the way you are, though really he just wants the excuse to look at you. “Forgot how peaceful it was.”

“I love it here,” you tell him. “Late in the summer, dandelions appear. They scatter the entire hilltop. I like running through them.”

“Well, when they start to bloom,” Steve wraps his arms around your waist, pulls you back into his chest. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, lingers. He hasn’t held you in so long, his body aches with the weight of yours against it. “We can run through them together.”

You smile into the embrace, lean into the kiss, tremble into the words. He will always make you weak. It’s an exhilarating feeling, knowing someone can dismantle every bone in your body with less than six words. “I think I’d like that–”

From the corner of your eye, you see lights flickering in the distance. They catch your attention, standing out against the black backdrop of the night sky. You shrug Steve off, feeling a tug in your chest to walk closer to the hill’s edge. You need to figure out what you’re seeing. With every step you take, the more your vision focuses in on the lights, the more dread fills your body.

It’s the mall. The lights are coming from the mall. 

You freeze. 

The lights are going haywire, flickering wildly. It’s supposed to be deserted. Jonathan and the others were supposed to have left already, but still your stomach sinks. Something isn’t right. 

Steve stumbles after you, confused as to why you pulled away, but when he sees the mall as well, he stills. “What the…?”

“They left. They said they would be gone by now.” You try to calm yourself down, try to focus on the reasoning. The mall is empty. It’s supposed to be empty. Jonathan promised you he would make it to Murray’s safely. He wouldn’t lie, he would never lie to you. 

Robin, Dustin, and Erica come up behind you and Steve. You all stand there at the crest. No one moves, transfixed by what they see. The lights continue to flicker, miles below, impossibly too far away from help.

Someone has to help.

Your feet move, twisting your body to run back to the radio. You need answers. You need to know what the hell is going on, if everyone is safe, and Dustin is right behind you. He falls to the grass in front of the radio and frantically brings it to his lips. “Griswold Family, this is Scoops Troop. Do you copy? Over!”

He repeats the call over and over, but no one responds. With each passing moment of silence, your panic turns into blind fear. “I repeat, do you copy–” A sudden, horrifyingly familiar screech, one that has haunted your nightmares for years now, rips through the radio’s speaker. It’s loud and gruesome and sends ice into your body. Your brother’s concern rivals your own. “Griswold Family, please confirm your safety. Are you enroute to Bald Eagle’s nest?”

Dustin is screaming into the radio at this point, demanding answers, but there’s only snarling on the other side. Your breathing quickens, the edges of your vision blur. Sweat trickles down your neck. You can’t breathe. Jonathan is still at the mall. Mike and Will. Nancy, Max and Lucas. 

El.

The Mind Flayer has them. 

Steve tries to grab your hand, but you’re blind to it all. In raw desperation, you tear the radio out of Dustin’s hands and bring it to your own lips. “Jonathan! Nancy! Mike, anyone.”

Your pleads fill the void of a response in the night air. Steve sits next to you, all he can do is watch as your pleading turns into begging. Your voice cracks, the words scratch your throat. Seeing your white-knuckled grip on the radio, Steve can’t take it anymore. 

“C’mon,” he takes your hand and pulls you up. Numb with fear, your body is limp. You try to fight him, you don’t know why he’s pulling you away from the radio when your friends need help, but Steve has made up his mind. He takes the device out of your hands and makes you look at him. “They need our help.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!”

“Y/N, look at me.” Steve motions to the car, and finally you understand. “We’re going.”

Relief threatens to make your knees weak. Too wired from the debilitating combination of fear and helplessness, all you can do is nod at Steve and allow him to guide you down the hill. Dustin and Erica see that you’re leaving and try to stop you. “Where are you going?”

“To get them the hell outta there!” Steve calls over his shoulder, fumbling through his pocket to retrieve the keys. “Stay here, contact the others!”

Dustin calls out your name, anxious. He doesn’t want you to leave, and you hate that you have to leave him. But right now, he and Erica are as far from danger as physically possible. Weathertop hill is miles away from Starcourt. Right now, Jonathan needs you, and so do the others. Breaking out of Steve’s grasp, you run back to your brother and kiss his forehead. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

You run back to the car where Steve awaits, and Robin is quick to follow. She runs after the two of you and catches the walkie that Dustin tosses her. “Stay in touch,” he orders the three of you, still entirely against the whole thing. 

“We will!” You shout back at him, already crawling into the car. “Stay safe, don’t do anything stupid, and stay here.”

The backdoor closes, Robin’s seatbelt clicks into place, then the Cadillac’s engine roars to life.

–

Your hands won't stop shaking as Steve drives. Nothing he says can reassure you. The car hasn’t gone below seventy miles an hour despite the narrow road, and still it doesn’t feel like it will be enough. 

“I’m sure they’re okay.” Steve tries again to sound convincing, like his hands also don’t shake as he grips the steering wheel. “I mean, they have El. She’s a superhero.”

“Total superhero.” Robin unhelpfully chimes in. Her own nervousness is on display as she twists her fingers together. 

You draw your knees into your chest, trying desperately to make yourself smaller. You’re terrified for your friends, you should’ve never split up. The party always does better when it’s together. Forcing air into your lungs, you stare out the windshield. “How much farther?”

“A minute, maybe even less.” Steve promises, pressing down even harder on the gas pedal. The engine’s roar deafens your ears, and you welcome the distraction. 

In the distance you see Starcourt’s blinding neon lights. They grow bigger and bigger with every passing second, and you release the breath you had been holding when you see that you’re close. The moment of relief is short lived, however, when you hear gunshots pierce through the night. The sound rings in your eyes and the sight of Nancy firing the gun chokes you. 

“There!” You point towards where she stands and Steve changes the direction of the car. The tires screech and your body thuds against the door but you don’t care. All you can focus on is Nancy standing in front of Jonathan’s car, unmoving as she fires bullet after bullet. Something seems to be wrong with his car, you can hear the engine fail each time he turns the key.

You squint your eyes. At first, you can’t see what Nancy is firing at, but within seconds you see the third car barreling straight towards her at a terrifying speed. In the driver’s seat is Billy. “Steve!”

“I see him!” He floors it. 

The impact knocks all the air out of your body. It all happens so fast. Glass shatters. Metal hits metal. Your body gets thrown, your head roughly hits Steve’s shoulder as the car spins out. Your eyes squeeze shut at the momentum. You can’t remember if you scream. 

“Are you guys okay?” Steve asks, panting, as soon as he car comes to a stop. His head is spinning yet the first thing he does is look to see if you’re hurt. There’s some glass in your hair, but for the most part there isn’t a scratch on you, which he’s thankful for. 

“Ask me tomorrow?” Robin stares blankly ahead, still trying to process what’s just happened. 

It takes a few moments for you to come to. Your ears are ringing. Your neck aches from being thrown so suddenly to the left. “Let’s never do that again.”

“Agreed…” Robin swallows, but quickly her mouth goes dry. “Oh, shit.”

You follow her line of sight and nearly throw up. The Mind Flayer crawls over the mall and releases a thundering screech, and the size of it alone makes you want to cry. It’s huge, bigger than anything you’ve ever seen before. 

A car honks behind you, breaking you from your terror. Your head whips around, finding Nancy in the passenger seat of Jonathan’s car. “Get in!”

Quickly the three of you scramble out of the wrecked car. There isn’t room in any of the passenger seats, so you yank the trunk door open and scream at Robin and Steve to crawl in. It’s a tight fit, you have to press your back against Steve’s chest, but it’ll have to do. 

As soon as the trunk is closed, Jonathan steps on the gas. You’re thrown further into Steve’s chest and Robin, who sits in front of you, lets out a quiet yelp when she sees the Mind Flayer chasing after the car, not far behind. Seeing this as well, Jonathan takes a rough turn and everyone in the car tries to brace for the rest of the ride. 

“Are you okay, bug?” Jonathan shouts over his shoulder, eyes still on the road.

“Fine and dandy,” you pick a piece of glass out of your hair. Steve helps, carefully combing through your hair as well. The Mind Flayer screams, tries to lunge at the car, and your heart skips a beat. You try to distract yourself. “I crash cars every day. How about you guys, what brought y’all out here tonight?”

“Billy.” Everyone in the car says in unison.

You wince. “It’s always him, isn’t it?”

No one answers. Your quips don’t land. Robin hasn’t looked away from the Mind Flayer yet, Steve doesn’t want to look at it. Jonathan stares at the road ahead of him and Nancy flinches every time the Mind Flayer’s body thuds against the earth. The rest of the kids are silent, the echoes of its footfalls pounding against their eardrums. 

It’s grim in the car. Really fucking grim. 

“Dusty-bun, you copy?” A girl’s voice comes through over the radio. It’s not a voice you recognize; never in your life have you heard anyone besides your own mother refer to your brother as Dusty-bun.

Steve’s bewildered expression matches your own. Then Dustin’s voice crackles through the radio, and your bewilderment turns into relief. At least your brother is far away from whatever the hell is chasing you right now. “I copy, Suzie-poo. It sounds much better now, thanks.” 

“Suzie,” Steve and Robin breathe out at the same time. You smile at them, smug. They had their doubts, but you were almost certain she had been real. Serves them right. 

The nickname Dustin has for his girlfriend, however, is awful. “‘Suzie-poo’? That’s the best nickname he could’ve come up with?”

“I like bee, better.” Jonathan agrees.

Steve scoffs. “Honey has a nicer ring to it.”

“Both of you shut up!” You don’t have time for their weird ‘my horse is bigger than yours’ competition. Dustin’s started speaking over the radio again and you’re trying to listen in case it’s important. He’s asking Suzie whether she knows what Planck’s constant is, and you have no idea how any of this is relevant to the situation at hand. 

“Okay, so I know it starts with two sixes, and then a…” Dustin’s voice trails off. Apparently this Planck thing is a number, one he can’t seem to remember. “W-What is it?”

“Okay, let me just be clear on this.” The tone of Suzie’s voice makes you pity your brother. It’s an angry tone, annoyed and fed up. Whatever she’s about to say, it won’t be pretty. “I haven’t heard from you in a week, and now you want a mathematical equation that you should know so you can… save the world?”

You whistle, commending the girl’s sense of self worth. “She’s got a point.” 

Dustin pleads with her, promising that he’ll make it up to Suzie as soon as he can. You feel a bit bad for him, honestly. He really had been trying to contact her ever since he got home from camp. How was he supposed to know his week would end up being dominated by Russians?

“You can make it up to me now.” Suzie’s voice lowers a frightening octave. You have no idea what she’s about to say, and a large part of you wants to throw the radio out the window before you’re forced to find out. 

“What?” Dustin sounds frightened as well, which doesn’t make you feel any better. 

“I want to hear it.”

Horror fills you. It’s worse. So much worse than you ever could’ve imagined. You know exactly what Suzie wants from Dustin. “Oh, no… He told her.”

“Told her what?” Steve asks you, confused by this entire ordeal. Dustin and Suzie argue in the background. She’s insistent and your brother tries his best to convince her otherwise. 

Jonathan’s eyes meet Steve’s in the rearview mirror, mischief in them. “Theater camp.”

“Jonathan Byers, I will hurt you!” You hiss at him, utterly mortified. Sometimes you despise the fact that he’s your closest friend. He knows far too much about you. 

Steve has so many questions, but he forgets all of them when Dustin starts to sing. “Turn around, look at what you see.”

His voice is clear and beautiful, a testament to the countless hours the two of you were forced to endure in vocal lessons. When you were younger and still living in Virginia, your mother made you and your brother attend a musical theater camp every summer. She loved having you guys perform little shows for her around the house. Said your voices were like angels to listen to. 

The day you and Dustin moved to Hawkins, you both swore to never tell anyone about the camp. The secret would die with you. 

Jonathan only knows about it because your mom had him video tape Christmas carols a few years ago (like the traitor that he is). It had taken several batches of cookies, numerous pleas, and a handful of threats to ensure he wouldn’t tell anyone what he saw. 

“In her face, the mirror of your dreams.” Dustin’s melodic voice floats through the car. The song had been one the two of you sang frequently at camp, its verses simple yet fun to sing together. 

Steve and Robin share a look of disbelief. They’ve completely forgotten about the Mind Flayer still chasing after the car. Suzie, a surprisingly good singer as well, now joins Dustin. They sing together, in a sweet, childish way. You can’t help but sing along, harmonizing with them. 

Everyone in the car looks at you as if you’re insane, but you’re too tired and exhausted to care. You’ve had the weirdest two days of your goddamn life. Sue you for singing along. It’s a good song. 

That, or maybe you’re just delirious from dehydration.

After a minute or so, the song comes to a close, and you’re almost saddened by that. You’ve missed singing with your brother. You make a mental note to bug him about it later. “Planck’s constant is 6.62607004.”

Dustin laughs into the radio, happy that Suzie finally revealed the number. “You just saved the world!”

“Gosh, I miss you, Dusty-bun.”

The two continue to go back and forth with their baby talk, which you cringe at. It’s disgusting to overhear, although you guess you understand now why Dustin hates being around you and Steve. You’ll apologize to him later. 

Dustin’s voice cuts off unexpectedly, which you assume is Erica’s doing. You’ll also thank her later. The car goes quiet again. No one knows what to follow Dustin’s impromptu performance with. 

“So, theater camp, huh?” Steve finally breaks the silence, squeezing you gently in his arms as he teases. 

“Tell anyone and I swear I’ll–” The Mind Flayer suddenly turns around, catching your attention. It runs away, back towards the mall. It doesn’t make any sense. Everyone is here, in the car. It only wants El. Unease twists your stomach. You lean forward and look at who is in the car. When you see Will and Lucas in the seat in front of you, you panic. “Where are the others?”

You’re practically crawling over the seat to try and get to Jonathan and Nancy. “Where’s Max and El? Where the hell is Mike?”

Nancy tries to distance herself from your anger. “We got separated, but they’re–they’re fine. We had to guide the Mind Flayer away from the mall–”

“So you left them?”

“We didn’t really have much of a choice, Y/N!” Nancy screams back at you now, insulted that you truly believe she would ever leave her brother behind willingly. She wouldn’t do that. She knows that you know this. 

“It’s going back for them! It fucking turned around, can’t you see that? We need to follow it, now!” 

“Y/N–”

“Turn. Around.”

“Steve, sit Y/N back down!” Jonathan’s yell cuts in between you and Nancy. You’re about to start spewing curses at him, but Steve’s arms are strong and force you back into his lap. You’re livid. “Hold on!” 

Jonathan knows you’re right. He tightens his hold on the steering wheel and stomps on the brakes. The car spins, he twists the wheel, controls it as best as he can, before he steadies the vehicle and accelerates back towards the mall. 

– 

When you get to the mall, Lucas announces that he has a plan. 

“Fireworks have an insane amount of gunpowder in them.” He explains to the group, waving around a handful of fireworks he left in the trunk. You’re all carrying some as you run through the mall’s parking lot. “If we tie them together, we can mimic the damage of dynamite.”

“Think it’ll be enough to kill the Mind Flayer?” Nancy asks, hesitant.

“If we throw them from above, yeah!”

You kiss Lucas’ cheek, only barely managing not to trip over your feet as you run. “I think you’re a genius, Sinclair.”

Inside the mall, everyone quickly sets the fireworks up. Faintly you can hear the Mind Flayer lurking somewhere, its roars echoing throughout the building, but it hasn’t found you guys yet. Lighters get passed around, fireworks get messily taped together, groups are divided in an attempt to cover the most ground. Jonathan with Nancy. Will with Lucas. You and Steve with Robin.

You’re taping together the last of your fireworks when you look down over the railing. You almost drop the fireworks in your hand when you see Billy hovering over El. He’s so much bigger than she is. She’s hardly even visible beneath him. Your stomach churns. “He’s here.”

Thuds shake the ground. The Mind Flayer descends from the rooftop and crawls over to where Billy has placed El. Its mouth opens, preparing for the kill, and Lucas throws the first firework. “Flay this, you ugly piece of shit!”

Bursts of light collide into the monster. It hisses, turns to face the direction the firework was thrown, and Lucas throws another into its mouth. 

Smoke begins to fill the air. The whistle of the rockets sting your ears. The light blinds you. It’s loud and messy and fireworks rain down upon the monster. Everyone throws the bundles they have, and yet still you hesitate. Billy’s eyes flash through your mind. How the red in them overtook the icy blue. The sweat that poured from his face. The cruelty that seeped through his skin. 

It’s horrible what’s happened to him. He didn’t deserve to become a pawn in this maddening game. 

But someone has to end it. You breathe in, relax your body, and bring your lighter to the first firework. Its heat licks at your skin as you release it into the air. You hit the side of its body, sending the Mind Flayer stumbling back. 

“Hey, asshole. Over here!” Steve throws a firework and its blasts almost scorches the two of you. It’s dangerous, stray fireworks threaten to crash into everyone, but the plan seems to be working. WIth every hit the Mind Flayer takes, the more he weakens. 

Your thumb burns as you light fireworks over and over again. The motion is repetitive, just enough to keep the fear in you at bay. It’s deafening within the mall. It’s exhilarating. It’s dizzying. Reds, blues, yellows, greens all light up the sky. 

Distantly, through the haze of smoke, you watch as the fireworks affect Billy as well. He cowers each time the Mind Flayer gets hit, but it also seems to enrage him as well. He grabs El’s wounded leg and drags her closer to the monster.

Helplessly you wish you were down there with El, helping her. However, all you can do is continue throwing fireworks in a crazed attempt to save the ones you love. You scream with every throw, exerting all your strength to throw them as far as you physically can. But you’re quickly running out of ammunition. 

“Dustin, we’re out of time!” Steve screams into the walkie, breath heaving with soot on his face. 

Your brother screams back, pleading with Hopper to close the gate. No one answers him, and you hold back exhausted sobs as you throw the remaining fireworks. They won’t be enough. Someone has to close the gate, sever any connection the Upside Down has to your world. It’s the only way any of you are making it out alive. 

Yet it remains open, and Billy has now crawled back on top of El. 

She seems to be saying something to him, but in the cloud of smoke and explosions you can’t be sure. Robin helps you light the last firework, Steve aims it, and you’re numb to it all. He throws it, it explodes into a shower of purple. Its ashes scatter around Billy, singes his back, and you see now that he’s stopped moving. 

“That was the last one!” Robin shouts over the screams of the fireworks. Steve runs a hand through hair and curses. There isn’t anything else the three of you can do.

You run to the railing and look around, feverish to find any way to help. Jonathan catches your eye from across the plaza. He looks just as distraught as you are. Your palm hits against the metal of the railing in frustration. There has to be something. Then you see Max and Mike below, standing on the outskirts of where Billy and El are, all alone. 

“I’m going down!” You scream to Robin and Steve. You have to get down there. Someone has to be with them. They’re too close to the fire and explosions and monsters. 

“Y/N, wait–” Steve tries to stop you, but you plead with him. 

“Steve, I need you to trust me.” There’s a raw, overwhelming feeling within you that something bad is about to happen. You can’t shake it, the feeling of loss being inevitable frightens you. For three years now you’ve saved everyone, done everything right. For three years, you’ve gotten lucky. You don’t know how to explain all of this to Steve, the fear that has followed you ever since you first intercepted the Russian code. “Please.”

Maybe it’s the way you say it. Maybe it’s the tears that stream down your face as you look at him. Whatever the reason may be, Steve reluctantly lets go of you. Endlessly thankful for him, your hands cradle his face as you kiss him. He makes a cute, surprised noise, and you wish more than anything that you can bask in the warmth of his lips, but you can’t. 

You force yourself to pull away. “I’ll be back, take care of the others.”

And then you’re gone. 

Footsteps echoing against the walls of the mall, you run down the stairs and straight towards Max and Mike. They hear you approach and suddenly they’re both in your arms. They hold onto you tightly, none of you can tear your eyes away from the scene in front of you. Billy slowly stands up and away from El. His movements are labored as he walks in front of the Mind Flayer, blocking its path to her. 

They stand, face to face, unmoving. Predator against prey. Your heart pounds in your throat as you watch, too scared to move. In an almost imperceptible velocity, the Mind Flayer extends its claws. 

Billy raises his arms, stopping the monster from piercing through El, protecting her. “No!” A guttural, animalistic scream tears apart his vocal chords. He screams, over and over again, as the Mind Flayer struggles against him. 

Max freezes in your arms, you feel her choke on her gasp. 

Everything happens slowly after that. 

The first claw that penetrates Billy’s side. 

The second one that cuts through his other side. 

Then the third one, the fourth and the fifth and the sixth. They pierce through his skin, sink into the flesh. His body goes limp as he’s suspended into the air. The Mind Flayer hisses down at him, its teeth bared, and Billy, who has never been afraid, screams in the face of death as the monster fatally punctures his chest. 

Everything stops.

“Billy!” You will never forget the pain in Max’s scream. It will become yet another sound that haunts your nightmares. 

As you stand there with a paralyzed Max in your arms, the Mind Flayer drops Billy’s body onto the ground. He lands with a sickening thud. The Mind Flayer’s body crashes into the walls, it convulses, spasms, leaving destruction in its wake. Then, all together, it stills and falls to the ground.

The gate has been closed. 

Mike tears himself from your arms and runs over to El. He pulls her into a hug and she begins to sob. You and Max walk numbly over to them, neither of your eyes leave Billy’s bleeding body. He shudders weakly where he lays, a pool of blood encasing his body. 

“Billy?” Max knees next to him. She’s crying, she doesn’t know what to do. There’s so much blood. “Billy, get up. Please, Billy. Get up, please.”

You kneel next to her, at her side through it all. 

Blood pours from Billy’s mouth. He coughs and the wet sound only makes Max cry harder. He looks up at you, his eyes are finally blue again. “Talking to you… sweetheart.”

But if you need anyone to talk to, about anything, come find me, okay?

Those had been your last words to him. 

“Billy…” He had tried to find you. He had been lost and scared and alone. He didn’t know what had been happening to him, why his anger became venom. A sob is wrenched from your mouth. He had been all alone, and he had tried to find you.

Billy coughs again, more blood leaks from his wounds. With the last of his strength, he turns his head to Max. “I’m sorry…” His chest heaves in pain, he labors two final breaths, before his chest falls entirely. It doesn’t rise again. 

Max shakes his shoulders, uncaring for the wounds there. She shakes him, begs and pleads with him to wake up, but his body remains lifeless. She lets out one final, anguished sob. “Billy.” 

She buries her face in your chest and sobs. You hold her, El joins. The girl tries to soothe Max, she tries to keep you together, but you break as well. 

You cry for the boy Billy had once been. Max had told you stories from before. How he would drive her to the skate park, scare off any older boy who tried to taunt her. She told you about how he used to love surfing in California, before his mom had left them and his dad became violent. 

Max told you about how kind Billy had once been, she knows he used to be kind. How she could see it in him still, hiding the bruises from his father to not scare her. To make her feel safe in their own home even if he intimidated her as well; it was the violence in him that was created by a monster far more vile than the Mind Flayer. 

You cry for Max, too young to lose such a complicated loved one. You know the pain better than anyone else. How it hurts to grieve them, how it makes you feel pathetic to miss someone who has only hurt you, but the tenderness of knowing them tethers you to it all. Billy had been her brother. There is no greater tether than that. 

You cry because you loved and have lost. You will blame yourself for having not said anything about Billy’s off behavior. You had seen the first signs of what the Mind Flayer did to him. He had been stranded on the side of the road, bloodied and bruised, blue eyes darker than normal, and you had done nothing except tell him to come find you. 

And then you had left him. 

Billy Hargrove died alone.

You and Max will share the burden of this guilt. 

– 

Jonathan finds you first, then Steve. You’re on the floor, kneeling with Max in your arms, two broken pieces finding solace in the other. Billy’s body lies next to you, neither you nor Max can bear to look at it. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” they’re the only words you can say to the girl. 

Max clutches your arms around her and her tears soak your shirt. El and Steve try to coax her out of your arms, but she doesn’t move. She refuses to let go of you, though she allows Jonathan to drape his arms over you and hold you as your own sobs echo within the mall. 

Nancy and the others join. They leave a wide berth around the dead body before them. Nancy sees that you’re in no condition to guide, so she takes over for you. She instructs Steve and Lucas to take Max from your arms so that they can stand the two of you up. The fire from the wreckage is quickly spreading and you’ll need to evacuate soon.

“It’s okay, bug. You’re okay.” Jonathan whispers in your ear, one hand delicate on your arm. Steve’s hands rest upon your other arm, and together the two of them are able to get you onto your feet. 

Your body shakes, grief sits heavily upon your chest. Steve’s eyes never leave your weak frame. 

It’s all a blur after that. 

Firefighters break through the mall and evacuate the building. Nancy and Jonathan do all the talking. Someone, you think it’s Steve, carefully guides you through the maze of burning rubble and bodies. It’s raining outside and the soft thunder almost drowns out the drone of the helicopters that swarm the building. 

There are ambulances amongst the military trucks and you’re shoved into one by a concerned medic. The woman explains to you that you’re in shock, that your body is in a state of perpetual flight. She allows Steve to sit and stay with you only after she’s finished patching up his split lip and bruised eye. 

“It’s going to take some time to heal,” the medic explains to you. She’s soft spoken, maternal, and in your numb state she reminds you of your mother. “You kids went through a lot tonight.”

Time. 

It always goes back to time. 

Steve rubs your back and kisses the top of your head every few minutes. You rest your head against his shoulder, body pressed against his, a blanket draped around both of your shoulders’. Neither of you say anything. His hand on your back is warm, it unthaws the ice that the shock has left behind. His touch grounds you, keeps you afloat. 

A car pulls up in the distance and its doors slam. Your eyes drift up, finding Joyce’s as she stumbles through the crowd of armed soldiers and firefighters. She stumbles around, lost in some haze that clouds her once shining face. Joyce looks around in concern, trying to find her sons, and somehow you know, even before her face crumbles when she sees you, that something terrible has happened.

Her eyes meet yours. 

Hopper isn’t with her.

Will rushes towards his mother and almost knocks her down with how hard he hugs her. Joyce clings onto him and breaks into heartwrenching, bone crushing, sobs. You can hear her from where you sit with Steve, you can feel the weight of her loss like thickened water in your lungs. 

In the other ambulance next to you, El, who had been resting in Mike’s lap, stands up when she sees Joyce. She walks towards the woman as she embraces her son. Though El faces away from you, standing alone in the middle of the parking lot, the way her shoulders shake as she begins to fall apart indicates the remnants of her childhood have died tonight.

“Hopper’s dead.” They’re the first words you’ve spoken all night. Your voice is hoarse from disuse and the words echo, taunting you. 

Steve doesn’t say anything, only a heavy sigh leaves his body. 

There were three deaths tonight. Billy, Hopper, and El’s childhood. One for every year you got lucky. The fear that had been creeping through the back of your mind finally presents itself to you. It manifests in the humid July air and it laughs at you. Saving Will, closing the gate, destroying the Mind Flayer. They were debts needed to be fulfilled, and they were paid for tonight.

You see Max and Robin sitting on a stretcher across from you. Max also hasn’t said anything all night, lost in her own grief and remorse. Joyce still sobs in Will’s arms. El grieves alone, mourning the closest thing she’s ever had to a father. 

You see Jonathan and Nancy whispering quietly to one another in another ambulance. They share a blanket like you do with Steve, but Nancy’s eyes are sunken in and Jonathan’s face is pale. Lucas and Mike sit together, too exhausted to say anything. 

You’re all bleeding or burned or bruised and you’re tired. 

“Sometimes…” Your voice cracks, tears threaten to silence you, and you force yourself to breathe in. Force yourself to focus, to get the words out. They’re important, somehow, even if you don’t know why. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve used up all my luck.”

Steve draws small circles into your ribcage. His fingers catch on the raised skin, the scar from when you saved his life last year. “Luck?”

“When Will went missing… It was pure luck that I found him. Brought him back home.” You weren’t supposed to have been with the kids when they found El. You were lucky that night, it was luck that threw you into the middle of it all. “It was luck that saved Will last year, too. Those tunnels…” Your body shivers at the memory. It had been so cold down there, the smell of the damp earth is a scent you will never forget. “And now I–”

Your words catch in your throat. Steve’s body presses against yours, he waits for you, patient. When your voice returns, you try again. “And now I… I’m not sure how I feel.”

“Why’s that, angel?” Steve listens, he tries to understand. “I mean, the Mind Flayer is gone. We won.”

You saved Hawkins. You saved El. You know this, and it should be enough, but it isn’t. “All the deaths that took place tonight stain everything.”

El’s father is dead. Joyce had come so close to loving again. Max no longer has someone to call a brother. Billy, who endured so much hurt when he was a child, never got the chance to experience kindness when he grew up. 

Billy never got the chance to become good, not like you did. You were lucky to have even become kind again in the first place. It had taken years to turn the hurt from your childhood into empathy. You had a mother who called you her sweet girl even when you screamed horrible insults at her. You had a brother who held your hand through the anger that your father left behind. You had a best friend who taught you that not everyone leaves. There had been people who loved you, who were gentle, who showed you that anger can be turned into something soft. 

But all Billy ever knew in his life was violence and cruelty. It isn’t fair. 

“My entire life I’ve been lucky,” your chest constricts as you confess everything to Steve. All your fear, the doubt, the insecurity. “Now it–it feels like I’ve used up all my luck.” Your fingers find Steve’s, a mind of their own as your body seeks the solace only he can bring. He doesn’t know that he’s the reason you believe you’ve had more luck than anyone else in their life. “I… I was lucky to have met you, to become your friend, someone you trust. How could I possibly have any luck left over after everything we’ve been through together?”

Everything burns in Steve. He understands what you’re trying to say, he does, but he doesn’t agree. Steve hooks the pad of his fingertip underneath your chin and coaxes your head up, he wants you to look at him as he speaks. He needs you to hear him. To understand. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong.”

You wipe your eyes, uncomfortable under Steve’s open and earnest gaze. “I’m wrong?”

He hums, strokes a finger from the dip of your cheek up to the crest of your brow. He admires you, memorizes the skin beneath his. “You’ve taught me a lot of things, but you’re wrong about that luck theory of yours. See, I have my own theory that you can never run out of luck if you love, and you taught me that to love and be loved is the luckiest thing a person can give and receive.”

Steve remembers the first day he ever saw you. He’d been thirteen, you had been twelve. He remembers how small you looked to him, yet lovely nonetheless, even back then. You had always been so lovely to Steve, kind, delicate, admirable. 

Your eyes stare into Steve’s and he remembers the first day he spoke to you. The squeal of your bike tires as you almost crashed into his car. The way the setting sun cast you in a golden glow in the ditch you landed in as Steve offered you his hand. How, the moment you laughed at what he said, he felt breathless. 

You smile at Steve now, the same smile all those years ago, the smile he saw when he was thirteen and believed in knights and dragons. Now, at eighteen, you smile at Steve and he believes in fates that attach people to one another and mold them into one being. 

“And I’m lucky enough to be able to love you, angel.” 

Steve’s words cut through you. They’re the good that remind you of the light of the sun that follows the dark of the night. It’s almost like an awakening, a slow remembering, how can someone run out of luck if they love with everything within them?

You see Mike now consoling El. She’s in pain, but Mike bears the hurt with her. You see Jonathan and Nancy sleep soundly against each other, safe in the other’s arms. Lucas holds Max’s hand as Robin cracks a joke that gets the young girl to laugh. Will strokes his fingers through his mother’s hair, offering her love that only a son can. 

Even while there is so much grief and pain within this world, the love that follows overwhelms it.

Steve stares down at you, eyes soft with contentedness. There isn’t a pressure behind them, he doesn’t need you to say anything to him. He’s simply happy to have you in his arms, to have you with him now, to remind him of how lucky he is, and you’re so full of love for him. 

“I’m lucky enough to be able to love you, too, sweet honey.”

Steve Harrington smiles the boyish smile that you fell for long before you knew what love even was, and he kisses you. He breathes you in, he has you right where he wants you. 

You finally, finally, have come home. 

– 

Time passes slowly afterwards; you take it one day at a time. 

After the mall burns down, your job is practically all but saved. It’s a small, bittersweet thing. Mrs. Waters had told you the news with her own bittersweet smile, mourning her dear friend Mrs. Driscoll who died in the fire. She will never know the truth, that the woman had become part of an army created by a monster. 

“But at least Doris would be happy that I still have my store,” the woman said as she stacked books with you at the counter. It had only taken you two days before finding yourself falling back into old habits. Your mother had wanted you to stay home for the rest of the summer, but Bookstrordinary has always been a second home to you, and you couldn’t bear the silence in the house. Mrs. Waters sighed sadly, looking down. “I miss her.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Waters.” You squeezed her hand, mourned with her.

Hopper’s funeral took place a week after Starcourt burned down. The entire town showed up, something that you know the old man would’ve hated, and he was crowned Hawkins’ hero. You spent the ceremony in the very back, holding El’s hand, so that the two of you wouldn’t be seen.

Billy’s funeral was a few days after Hopper’s. Max sat alone at the front of the church, Billy’s father had been too drunk to attend and her mother couldn’t get the time off of work. After the ceremony, the girl silently followed you into your car and spent the rest of the day at Bookstrordinary with you. She hadn’t wanted to go home to an empty house, and you understood the feeling. 

Max spends most of her summer with you at the store after that. Some days she helps restock the shelves, singing along to your set of tapes, bright and cheery. But some days she’s quiet, sits in a corner and pretends to read whatever you hand her. El stops by the store sometimes, too. You read comics to her, bake her the oatmeal raisin cookies she loves so much, and gossip about Mike and Lucas if Max is having one of her good days. 

During the first week you bake Joyce’s favorite muffins, the second week you bake her brownies. You offer her a shoulder to cry on every time you stop by the Byers home, you reminisce over Hopper and his disdain for you; she appreciates everything you do. 

Steve spends every single day with you, it doesn’t matter where you are. Without a job, he follows you everywhere. Whether you’re at work, at home, even at Jonathan’s or Nancy’s, he’s always able to find you with Robin right behind him. Nancy thinks the newfound trio is bizarre, but Jonathan can’t help but laugh whenever he sees Robin talking your ear off while Steve follows you around like a moth to a flame.

Together, you all try to heal.

Two weeks pass and you’re woken up by the ringing of your phone. 

“Hello?” Annoyance seeps through your greeting. You’ve only just managed to fall asleep, the nightmares at bay for once. 

“Come outside, angel.”

His voice wakes you up, the annoyance now replaced with confusion. “Steve?”

“Wear something warm, okay?”

“What–?” He hangs up, the line disconnects, and you’re completely taken aback by the phone call. You didn’t make any plans with Steve tonight, at least not any that you can recall. He had spent the day with you at work, ate dinner with you and your family, before watching a movie with Dustin and going home. 

You’re not entirely sure why he’s called you at nearly two in the morning to come outside, but you listen anyways. On your desk chair lays the cardigan Steve bought you for Christmas, his initials stitched into the sleeve. Sliding it over your shoulders, you quickly put it on before climbing through your window.

Steve’s car is parked two houses from yours, headlights off. There’s music faintly playing that can be heard through the window, and a familiar melody has you running to get inside. “The Beatles?”

They were the band that you and your dad used to listen to. His fingers would strum their songs on his guitar as the two of you sat side by side on the front porch of your childhood home. He would hum the words to you. Told you that you should know about real music. 

When your dad left, he took the music with him.

Jonathan had tried to get you into his favorite artists. The Smiths, David Bowie, the Clash. He would sit you down in his room and play their songs over his record player and watch your reactions. While the music was good, and you’ve come to love them because the artists reminded you of Jonathan, it was never the same as listening to the Beatles with your dad during early July mornings. 

Then one night, when you and Steve had been driving around Hawkins, a Beatles song began to play over the radio. Unknowing of your history with the band, Steve started to hum along the same way your dad would do, and it was finally then that music was brought back into your life.

“What, I don’t get a hello?” Steve is smiling ear to ear, seeing the flushed joy on your face and the cardigan you wear. 

You throw your body over the center console and hug him. “Hi, honey.”

As he drives, Steve is unusually quiet. His initial smug greeting upon your arrival is quickly overshadowed by a shy demeanor. Steve’s fingers fidget on the steering wheel, his foot taps against the car’s floor. The Beatles play softly within the car and somewhere along the route you find that the wooded scenery starts to look familiar.

He’s driving you to Lover’s Lake.

“Why are we heading towards the lake?” You ask Steve, but he pretends not to hear you. Instead, he turns the radio up and sings along to Paul McCartney. Your eyes wander to the backseat and notice a small box nestled against the leather. 

A few minutes later Steve parks the car and wordlessly the two of you get out. It’s dark, the moon reflects off the lake’s water. Crickets sing in the air and the waves lap at the shore. It’s a beautiful night, the July heat is masked by the night’s breeze; your cardigan keeps you warm. 

Lost in admiring the view, you don’t notice that Steve has left your side until he returns with a picnic basket. The box you saw earlier is tucked underneath his arm. You tilt your head at him, quizzically. “What are you planning, Harrington?”

Steve grabs your hand. “You’ll see.”

He leads you down to the lake’s edge where the water meets the sand. There’s a trail that Steve once found when he was nine. It had been during the last fishing trip he had ever taken with his dad. The man commanded him to hook the worm and Steve cried. Embarrassed and ashamed, Steve had run towards where the sand met the woods and found a meadow hidden within it. 

There are flowers in full bloom within the meadow, and you gasp when you see their vibrant pinks and blues. The flowers are delicate yet their stems are long. Steve sets the picnic basket down and pulls a blanket out from it. He sets it onto the grass and lays down, motioning you to join him. 

The stars are clear tonight, shining bright above the two of you. They almost seem to wink at you as you lay side by side with Steve. His hand is in yours, as it always is these days, and with only the stars as his witness, Steve whispers into your ear, “Thank you for staying.”

His breath warms your neck, and you know, without having to ask, what he’s thanking you for. Your promise to him last year, that you’d wait for him. He hadn’t been ready. The timing of it all wouldn’t have been right, but you knew, even back then, that you’d wait forever for Steve Harrington if it meant you’d receive even half of his love. 

Take your time, I’ll be here. 

“It was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” The words come easily to you, raw with truth and vulnerability. 

A soft sigh escapes Steve. He turns his head to you, eyes finding yours, and you’ve never seen such tenderness within him. He opens his mouth, sighs out the words you’ve longed to hear again since that night at Starcourt. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You don’t think you’ll ever tire of saying those three words to him. There’s so much love within you, so much you’ve ached to give out ever since you were a little girl, and now you finally can. 

Steve kisses you with a softness that releases a sigh from your own lips, and you know he’s wholly, truly, yours now. With a swift motion, Steve places himself on top of you as you kiss. His weight presses down on you, one hand cups your cheek and the other steadies him. His hair tickles your face, his cologne clouds your brain, and the sweet taste of July honey coats your tongue. 

Minutes, maybe even hours, pass as you kiss Steve. It’s lazy, no sense of urgency as your lips move against his. It’s warm, it’s soft. Eventually he manages to pull himself away from you, he’s brought you here for other reasons tonight. 

“Hold on, I got you something.” Steve fixes his hair, clears his throat, and pulls out a container from the basket. He reveals a freshly baked loaf of banana bread on a beautiful glass plate. There’s a small, lopsided candle on top of it.

“You came prepared tonight,” you tease him, still breathless from the kisses and love.

“My mom did, actually. She’s the one who made this.” You sit up and look at Steve, wide eyed. He laughs at you, finding your stunned reaction endearing. “Relax, angel. She really wanted to bake you something, and I had to make up for allowing Russians to ruin your seventeenth birthday, didn’t I?” 

Words escape you. Steve’s mom made you banana bread, a woman you have still yet to meet, though you’ve only heard fond stories about. She had insisted on doing this kind thing for you. 

Steve lights the candle and holds the plate up for you. “C’mon, make a wish, Y/N.”

You close your eyes, smiling, and the wish comes easily to you.

For time to stay like this, forever.

You blow the candle out, Steve cuts the banana bread, and you take turns feeding it to one another. The dessert is delicious, freshly baked and still warm. It’s sweet and nostalgic and everything you could ever ask for. 

When you’ve finished eating, Steve claps his hands. “Alright, now onto the real event of the night!” 

You raise an eyebrow. “What, the kissing wasn’t enough?” Steve makes a panicked noise and you laugh at him. “I was teasing, honey.”

“You terrify me,” he huffs, before revealing a box from behind him, the very same one you’ve been curious about all night. 

“I aspire to be terrifying,” you stick your tongue out at Steve before turning the box over in your hands. It’s light, lighter than you expected. “Is this my gift you’ve been bragging about?” For months leading up to your birthday, Steve had been boasting about this amazing gift he had thought of, how he had convinced the party to help him. 

“Open it and find out.” There’s a glint in Steve’s eyes, yet you also see the shyness return as well. He’s nervous to see your reaction, he wants more than anything to have gotten this right. 

You roll your eyes at him but open the box. It isn’t wrapped like your other gifts from Steve have been. Instead the box is made of a dark oak, and its lid opens with a soft click. The silver catches your attention first. It’s a small chain with two silver ovals on opposite sides. In between the two ovals is a collection of charms. 

“Is this…?” The charms are all roughly the same size, but each vastly different from the other. 

Steve nods at you, rubs the back of his neck. “It’s a charm bracelet.” 

Moonlight reflects off of one of the charms, revealing it to be a frog, another one to be a cookie, and slowly you piece it together. There’s six charms, one for each member of the party. “Steve.”

“Have you figured it out–oomph!” He lands with a thud on his back as you attack him with a hug. Slightly out of breath, he laughs and wraps his arms around you. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

“How did you get the kids to do this?” You lay on top of him, blinking back tears as you hold the  bracelet delicately in your hands to admire it. 

Steve sighs in exasperation. “Money and a lot of begging. They were all for picking out charms for you, I just had to pay them to spend more than five minutes with me at the jewelry store.”

You laugh, that sounds exactly like them, and you love those kids with everything within you. Holding up the frog pendant, you know which kid picked it out for you. “Mike?”

“Yup. Said something about Kermit the frog?”

“He’s such a little shit,” you say with fondness. Last year, when Billy had nearly choked you to death, your voice had been lost and Mike wouldn’t stop referring to you as Kermit. Your fingers skim over the pendant next to it, a simple blue one, and you smile. “Dustin?”

“He told me about your code blues.” Steve rubs your back, content to have you resting against him. You hum, touched that your brother trusted Steve enough to confide this to. No one else knows about your code blues, it’d been a special thing just between the two of you. 

With your ear pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, Steve explains the rest of the charms to you. His voice is lazy, slow, lilting with fondness, and his hand a firm weight against your back. Max chose a knife charm to remind you of how badass you are. Will chose a bee, because he’ll always be your little bee. Lucas was able to find a small, white flower that resembles a dogwood, knowing that it’s your favorite. As for El, she chose a cookie based solely on her love for the ones you bake for her. 

“What about the ovals?” You ask Steve after he’s done explaining what the kids chose for you. The ovals are slightly larger than the charms, almost serving as a divider between them. The metal is smooth underneath your fingers. 

He brushes hair out of your face and winks. “Turn them over.”

With slight confusion, you do, and discover that they’re engraved. Etched onto the back of one oval is honey, and, on the other, angel is written. They’re your names for one another, nestled between charms from the kids you love so dearly in your life; this is a gift made from pure, unadulterated love. 

“Oh my god,” it’s perfect, absolutely perfect. Your lips are all over Steve’s face before he even has time to blink. You scatter millions of kisses upon his face, drown him in them, With every kiss that you press upon his pretty skin, you shower him with praise. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

Steve laughs and tries to move his face away, but really he leans into the onslaught of love. His cheeks burn from smiling so hard and from the heat you always make him feel. He grabs your waist and enjoys the skin he holds. “You like it?”

“I love it, Steve!” 

“Does this make up for the whole Russian fiasco?” He asks, only joking a little bit. He still feels awful for dragging you into everything, but with time he’s learning to forgive himself. Before he overthinks it, Steve adds, “Am I now the best boyfriend in the world?”

His words make you blush, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to Steve being yours. You’ve waited so long to be his, to hold him and kiss him like you do now. You cherish the feeling, the sensation of knowing a boy loves you the way that Steve does. “You’ve definitely redeemed yourself for getting me trapped in a Russian lair on my birthday. And you’re definitely the best boyfriend in the world.”

Steve, despite being underneath you, does a victory dance and whoops into the night. He’s elated, his face shines when you look down at him, and you’ve never been so in love before. You once thought you knew what love was, what the burn of it could feel like. But now, with Steve lying beneath you as his arms keep you from falling, you know that love is airless, light, cool to the touch and warm on the skin. Love isn’t supposed to hurt, it’s supposed to feel like coming home after a long day of being out in the cold. 

After Steve helps you put on the charm bracelet, you lay together in the meadow. The lake’s waves can be heard in the distance. Crickets chirp their greeting, the stars wink hello above you. Their noises serve as a lullaby to you, soothing you to an almost sleep-like state. You nestle your head into the crook of Steve’s neck and let out a sleepy exhale. 

Feeling this, Steve strokes the back of your hair. “You fallin’ asleep on me, Henderson?”

“I’m resting my eyes.” 

“Very convincing,” he chuckles, tightening his embrace to try and stave off the cold that creeps in. He lets out his own tired sigh, your weight upon him has always put him at ease. He inhales, smells your perfume, and he can’t believe that he’s here right now with you. After everything he’s been through, he can’t believe that somehow he’s come out of it with you next to him. Last year he thought he had lost you forever. This year he can see forever with you. “I think I like this July a whole lot better than the last one.”

It’s meant to be a joke, a gentle tease. More of a reflection of how far the two of you have come in such a short amount of time, but still Steve’s words remind you of something. You’ve never told him the real reason why you left last summer. Why you ran away from him. 

“I was scared, last summer.” 

Steve tilts his head at you. “Scared of what?”

“I was scared of falling in love with you,” the confession lifts from your chest. It hangs over you both, the weight of it tangible. Steve’s eyes soften, he lets out a soft oh, and you duck your head shyly. “Last July, you were… Everything. You were everything to me, and it terrified me. I was still figuring my feelings out for Jonathan back then, you had Nancy, but you were so lovely and I just–I couldn’t do it. It wouldn’t have been fair, not to anyone, but I’m sorry.”

“Y/N…” Steve hadn’t known. All this time, he thought he had done something wrong. But really you had been trying to protect yourself, protect him, and he understands now why you had to leave him for a while. He sees the distress on your face and he shushes you, kisses your forehead. “Don’t apologize, okay? I honestly would’ve run away too, if I were you. I’m just… You came back to me, in the end. That’s all I care about.”

He’s too good for you. “I still hurt you.”

“You’re human,” Steve brushes more hair out of your face. “We all make mistakes. You ditched me for a few months and I almost got you killed by crazy Russians. I think we’re pretty even now.”

Despite the guilt in your throat, Steve manages to draw a smile from you. It’s what he’s always done best. Even on the day Will had gone missing, he had been the one to ease the loss by pretending not to have known your name. He had made you laugh when you thought you could never laugh again. Steve would do anything to get you to smile, and you cannot imagine where you’d be without him. “We always even our debts, huh?”

“It’s tradition at this point.”

And you laugh, full-bellied and loud and recklessly. It echoes into the night, Steve’s reverberates into your ears, and you’re happy. 

– 

A month passes, and in the mid-August heat, Jonathan knocks on your window late one night. 

His knuckles rap against the glass and it’s a sound reminiscent of before, when you were little kids who didn’t know how yet to hurt each other. You crawl out of your bed, curious, though happy nonetheless to let him in. 

You go to open your curtain, ready to tell the boy all about what Dustin had done today, unaware that when you open the curtain, everything will change. 

Jonathan is crying. 

“Bee, oh my God.” You quickly open the window and he manages to crawl through, though sobs wrack his body. He’s shaking, and for a terrifying moment you think that something has happened to Will. “Is everything okay?”

He stands before you, chest heaving and eyes red, and with two words your world comes crashing down. “We’re moving.”

Time stands still. You’re seventeen and your childhood is coming to a close.

Somehow you’re holding onto Jonathan as he explains everything through his tears. He’s moving in early September, going all the way to California. He and his family are leaving Hawkins, leaving you. 

Your legs give out, or maybe it’s Jonathan’s, but you hold each other on the floor, intertwined, mourning the loss of growing up together. Your tears mix with his, his breathing becomes yours. The two of you cling onto each other, scared that one day soon you’ll never be able to do this again. 

“We need to–” Your breathing is shaky, your eyes sting. You feel a desperate franticness claw out of you, you grasp at what little sanity you have left. “We need to promise each other that–that we’ll see each other every day before you leave, in some capacity. It–it doesn’t matter how but–”

“I’ve already talked to Nancy about it, bug.” Jonathan wipes your tears, lets his own fall freely. He knew you’d say this, and he loves you all the more for it. “It’s been agreed.”

You nod, relieved. It isn’t much, it still doesn’t change the fact that Jonathan will leave you in the end, but at least you’ll make every last second with him count. You’ll move into the Byers home if you have to, they’re your family. He’s your person. He’s embedded into your skin, he’s nestled between your bones. 

Last year you and Jonathan promised you would never let go of each other. 

The year prior to that you promised each other that nothing would change between you two. 

Now, holding onto each other as the world you’ve been building together for five years comes crumbling down, you have to believe that the promises will be enough.

–

Steve and Robin rope you into helping them find a new job.

You innocently pointed out that Family Video was hiring, figuring it was an easy enough place to work at, and suddenly the two of them had shoved you into Steve’s car with resumes in their hands. Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming. 

“You put your mom down as a reference?” Robin questions Steve as you all get out of the car. She had agreed to proofread it after you politely declined, stating that if you proofread anything Steve wrote, it might ruin your relationship. 

“Yeah, why not?” Steve slams his door, straightens his shirt, and grabs your hand as you walk inside. “She’s like, super well respected.”

You share a look with Robin. “Rich kids,” you both groan at the same time. As much as you love Steve, you’ll neve quite get over how well connected he is. It’s bizarre and slightly terrifying how much the Harrington name can get you in this town.

“Whatever, call me a rich kid, but it’s my car you guys get free rides in.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “You’re such a dingus.”

“I didn’t ask to be here,” you remind Steve, though you thank him when he holds the store’s door open for you and Robin. “I think this could count as kidnapping.”

Robin bumps her hips against yours. “Not technically. Besides, I thought we agreed to leave our kidnapping days behind us after Erica?”

You shove the teen and follow her into the store. You look around at all the movies, slightly impressed. You’ve never really visited Family Video before, only really stopping by if you were picking up Dustin from the arcade next door. The store is nice, albeit small, but you can see Steve and Robin enjoying themselves. There’s good music, few customers, and the uniformed vest is less mortifying than Scoop’s small shorts and sailor hats. “It’s not so bad in here.”

“Why thank you, pretty lady.” A greasy looking man at the register smiles at you, leaning over it in a very unappealing manner. His name tag informs you that his name is Keith.

Steve immediately steps in front of you and stares the guy down. “She doesn’t need you thanking her, buddy.”

You can tell that he wants to say more, but you see the “general manager” on Keith’s name tag and quickly try to deescalate the situation. If your idiot boyfriend wants the job, he can’t piss off the guy hiring. “Steve, why don’t we take a look around while Robin does all the talking?”

“What–” He doesn’t have a chance to argue, you’re already pulling him down a random aisle, throwing a quick “good luck!” to Robin as you leave. 

She talks with Keith, and it seems to be going well. She shows him their resumes, smiles at him kindly. before she shouts across the store to Steve. “Dingus, what are your three favorite movies?”

Steve nearly drops the movie he had been looking at. “Uh, Animal House?” You can practically hear Robin’s disappointed sigh from where you stand, and Keith looks unimpressed. Panicked, Steve whispers to you, “What are my favorite movies?”

“I don’t know!” You hiss, frantically trying to get this poor man a job. “Just, name two other movies. Animal House can’t be too bad, right?”

“Star Wars,” Steve manages to get out, now walking back to the register. You stand next to him, looking nervously at Robin, who makes a pained noise at his responses. 

The manager stares blankly at him. “A New Hope?”

“A new what now?”

You drop your head into your hands and sigh. He’s hopeless. Already knowing it’s a lost cause, you mumble to him, “It’s a Star Wars movie, Steve.”

He snaps his fingers. “Right! Yeah, it’s the one with the teddy bears, isn’t it?” Steve makes what you think is supposed to be an Ewok sound, which only makes you sigh again. Sensing he’s fucked up, Steve tries to backtrack. “No? Uh… Oh! The one that just came out, the movie. The one with DeLorean and Alex P. Keaton and he’s trying to bang his mom.”

“Oh, dear.” It’s a trainwreck, one you can’t look away from, and Robin can only shake her head at you. “Steve?”

“Yeah?” 

“Stop talking.”

“Uh, yeah.” Steve clears his throat, he knows he’s rambling. Had he known he would have a goddamn pop quiz about movies, he wouldn’t have dragged you here for the interview. “Those are my top three. Classics.”

Keith looks between you, Steve, and Robin. He points to Robin first, “You start Monday.” He points to Steve, “You start never.” And then he points to you, “You can start whenever.”

“Okay, I get why you’re telling me no,” Steve waves a hand in front of you, “but she didn’t even apply!” 

You’re also confused by how this day is turning out, and you look at Robin, wide eyed and pleading. She’s good with people, Keith seems to like her. When she sees you silently begging her to fix this, Robin sighs and steps in front of Steve. “Will you just, um… Will you guys give us a minute?” 

“Why?” Steve doesn’t move, and you want to throw a shoe at him. 

“Let’s go, pretty boy.” You grab the back of his shirt and yank him back to the aisle of movies. He doesn’t fight you, he simply accepts his fate and allows you to drag him away. Before turning the corner, you nod at Keith. “Thanks for the job offer, but you should really give it to the guy I’m currently dragging.”

Robin snickers at Steve’s offended huff as the two of you leave, before she starts trying to convince the manager to let Steve work there. From where you stand, it seems like a heated discussion. You try to lean closer, nosey, and while you’re distracted, Steve runs into a life-sized cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates wearing a red bikini. 

He fights with it, tries desperately not to let it fall, all while his resume hangs from his mouth. “Shit! Oh, Fast Times! Ever heard of it? Top three for me, Keith.” Robin laughs and Steve turns the cardboard cutout to you, wiggling his eyebrows. “Own any red bikinis?”

You flick his forehead, though you laugh as well. “In your dreams.”

“I can sleep right now and find out–”

“I will flick you again.”

“A kiss is preferred, but whatever.”

– 

When the Byers move, you spend the entire day fighting back tears as you help them pack. 

You spent the night in Jonathan’s room, both of you dreading the morning to come. Neither of you had slept, instead spending the entire night taking turns sharing your favorite memories together. The day you met. The time a dog chased you. When Jonathan mistook your sweater for his and wore it to school. Late night drives. Movie nights with your brothers. You relive it all that night. 

As the morning sunlight began to stream into Jonathan’s room, the warmth the memories brought started to fade away. Slowly, as the sun rose, you and Jonathan packed his room. You helped him organize his vinyls, sort through his mixtapes. When he isn’t looking, you steal a few t-shirts and flannels from his closet. He won’t notice they’re gone until he’s halfway to California. 

When it gets too much, seeing all of Jonathan’s life dwindling down to only a few boxes, you wander into the living room and help Joyce pack as well. She sees the tears in your eyes and gives you things to do, but eventually you can’t take it anymore. You go into Will’s room, and it’s the same. You cry, he cries with you, and it’s bittersweet. The rooms empty, the boxes grow.

El’s room is the hardest to pack, she has so few items to call her own, and you’re both silent as you move through the room together. 

With each box that you tape full of things you grew up with, you feel a piece of your childhood being packed away as well. The plates you used to eat off of, the books you used to bring from your job, the toys you passed down to Will. It’s all there, pieces of you frozen in time.

As you tape a box labeled “games” in Jonathan’s messy handwriting, you hear Max and Lucas singing in the living room. The sound makes you smile. It’s one of Max’s better days, she’s teasing Dustin for singing with Suzie, and she’s in a good mood. The rest of the party keeps her occupied. The kids all arrived as early as Joyce allowed them to, Nancy and Mike were the first to knock on the door. 

You place the box next to the others and walk towards Jonathan’s room. He’s leaning against its door frame with Nancy beside him, and you join them. You stare at the empty room, the one you’ve called your second home ever since you were twelve. It hurts, seeing it stripped of everything. 

All of Jonathan’s boxes are in the living room, filled with the things that make him who he is. There’s a drawer in your room of things Jonathan has left over the years, and you’re never giving them back. They’re all you have left of him. 

You and Jonathan take in his barren room, and you sigh against the door frame. “It’s so… empty.”

Nancy crosses her arms. “Is that everything?”

“I guess so,” Jonathan stuffs his hands in his pockets. His room feels cold somehow, its emptiness devoids it of the warmth it once had. He can still hear your laughs echoing in the floorboards, he can still smell your perfume that clings onto the walls. There’s scuff on the closet door from the time the two of you thought it’d be a good idea to play blind-folded baseball in the small room. 

Jonathan steps into his room, taking it all one last time. The sunlight from his window illuminates his silhouette, making him appear even smaller within the room. “Seventeen years of my life… packed up in one day.”

His voice is melancholic, his body is sad. You nudge Nancy, nod your head in Jonathan’s direction, urging her to go after him. She nods, understands that you’re telling her to say goodbye, giving them the space to do so. She smiles at you appreciatively.

You do it because they love each other, but selfishly a part of you leaves because you can’t say goodbye just yet. 

“Thank you,” she whispers, following after Jonathan. 

You find El as she’s leaving Joyce’s room. She’s holding a piece of paper, clutched closely to her chest. There are tears in her eyes, though you know better than to ask why. It’s a sad day for everyone, you’ll let her grieve on her own. However, that doesn’t stop you from pulling the girl into a fierce hug. 

“I’ll miss you so much, sweetheart.” You mumble, kissing the top of her head. “I don’t know who’s going to paint my nails now.”

El laughs through her tears and holds you tight. “I can ask Mike to.”

You kiss her head again, close your eyes, and pray to whoever is above that this girl will stay who she is forever. That she will never change. Her kindness is genuine, her joy is admirable. All her life she only knew cruelty, and yet she still came out of it so full of love. “I’d love to hear how that goes.”

“I will write you,” El promises, and you nod eagerly at her. She pulls you in for one last hug before finally releasing you to go see Joyce. 

The woman greets you with a tired smile when you walk into her room. She’s kneeling on the floor, folding clothes. They’re baggier than what she normally wears, darker, and you finally realize that they’re Hopper’s. 

A lump forms in your throat. She shouldn’t be doing this alone, packing away the remnants of his life. “Here, let me help.”

Joyce accepts, and together you sit in comfortable silence as you go through the clothes Hopper left behind. They still smell like him, old cigarettes and whiskey. It’s a nostalgic scene, a part of you wishes you could keep one of his shirts. He had been dear to you, regardless of the constant bickering you faced with him. 

“I don’t blame you, you know.” Joyce speaks softly next to you, catching your attention. “At all.”

You look up at her, sucking in a breath. “I don’t… I don’t know what you mean, Mrs. Byers.”

“The guilt, honey.” She places a hand on your arm, gentle as she always is with you. “I know you blame yourself for what happened to Will, but you shouldn’t. You have to let go of it. I want…” Joyce pauses, looks into your eyes the way a mother does to her daughter. “I want you to promise me that you’ll live the life that you deserve, because you’ve spent half of your life making sure my boys lived the lives that they deserved. Can you do that for me?”

“I…” You’re crying, you don’t know what to say. For years you’ve carried the guilt of Will’s disappearance, and for even longer you’ve done everything you could to ensure that he was loved. That Jonathan was loved. Never once had it felt like a burden to you, but Joyce’s words undoes something in you. “I promise.”

Joyce pulls you into her arms and hugs you, tears in her own eyes. She strokes your hair, hugs you as she’s always done since you were a little girl. She echoes the final words that Hopper told you. “You’re the best of them.”

You’re not sure how long you cry in Joyce’s arms, but when she soothes you and wipes your tears away, she tells you to go find Will. They’re leaving soon, he’ll want to see you, and you wish the woman one final goodbye before going to find her son. 

Will ends up being in the hallway, you find him just after he’s said goodbye to Mike. You note the longing in his eyes, the uncertainty in his posture as his friend leaves. There’s a wistful look on his face, one that you once had on your own when Jonathan was around. Even if Will may not know yet, you do. 

“Hey, little bee.”

He turns around, the softness in his eyes when he sees you makes you homesick. “Y/N!”

Will buries his face in your chest, and you hug him just as tightly back. He’s grown so much since you first met him. He’s no longer the shy little boy who had been afraid of his own shadow, and you can’t believe you won’t get to finish watching him grow up. “I swear, you’re going to be taller than me next time I see you. Won’t be able to call you little bee anymore.”

“I’ll always be your little bee,” Will squeezes you tighter, afraid to let go of you. 

“Good,” you ruffle his hair, making him to laugh. “I’ll miss you, but I’m sure you already know that.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” Will’s voice is wet, more tears come. He pulls away from you, he looks as if he wants to say something, but he stops himself. As if he’s afraid of something.

You frown. “Hey, what is it?”

“I’m scared,” The words rush from his mouth. “What if… What if I don’t make any friends?” He lowers his voice, looks around nervously, before trusting to say the words out loud to you. “I–I’m different, Y/N.”

Will’s fear hurts you to see, you wish you could do more, promise him that it will all be okay, but you can’t. Instead, all you can do is kiss his cheek and hope he can feel all the love you have for him within it. All you can do is remind him that you will love him through it all. “You’re the bravest kid I know. I have no doubt that you’ll be fine. I mean, you’ll have Jonathan and El with you, but if you ever need me, I’m just a phone call away. I love you, and that will never change.”

You stroke the boy’s cheek with your finger, and he leans into the gentle touch. “I’m rooting for you, always.”

Will squeezes you tight when he hugs you for the last time. He thanks you, his body relaxes into yours, and you know that in the end he’ll be okay. He’s a brilliant kid, he’s been through more than anyone else his age ever has. He’s resilient, his kindness is his strength, you just hope that he can recognize that himself one day. 

As you pull away from the hug, Will’s eyes catch on someone, you turn around. It’s Jonathan, standing by the front door, waiting for you. 

It’s time to say goodbye. 

Taking a deep breath, you walk towards him, and Jonathan takes your hand and guides you to the porch outside. Everyone else is still inside, packing. You sit side by side in silence, absorbing the final remaining moments alone with each other. Saying goodbye to your childhood best friend leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. 

A ladybug crawls on a leaf next to you, a bee flies past you and lands on a sunflower nearby, and a bird chirps in the blue sky above. You rest your head on Jonathan’s shoulder, he presses a kiss to your temple. Your fingers interlock and the cool September air surrounds you.

“I made you something,” Jonathan breathes out, clears his throat. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a mixtape, its front covered with a piece of paper listing all the songs on it. “I, uh, used the money I won from the betting pool to make it. Dustin was pretty annoyed with me for winning.”

You snort at the image of your brother berating your friend for winning a betting pool about how long it’d take Steve to ask you out. Taking the mixtape from Jonathan, you read the songs. There’s eight songs on it, the first one being a Beatles song from your childhood; you don’t know how Jonathan knew that. Though most of them are familiar, the writing on the paper is old, faded with age. “How long have you been making this, bee?”

Jonathan looks away from you and swallows. “A while, I guess. Listen to it after I leave, okay? That way, if you hate it, I’ll never have to know.” His demeanor is odd, there’s something he’s not telling you, but it’s your last day with him. You leave it alone for now, not wanting to ruin it. 

“You’re not allowed to find a new best friend.” You tell him instead, the silence becoming too much to bear. It’s a joke, though truthfully you don’t want Jonathan to find another best friend. He’s supposed to be yours, only yours, and you’re supposed to be his. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Jonathan lets out a soft laugh, and you’re going to miss feeling the way his body moves as he does so. He sucks in a breath, releases it slowly, and shakes his head. “I mean, we were kids together, bug.”

You start to cry, and he does as well. You’ve never had to say goodbye to each other before. Not like this. The two of you sit on the porch of Jonathan’s childhood home and cry. You cry into his neck, he buries his face into your hair, and it’s all so unfair. 

Jonathan touches his forehead to yours. You look into his eyes and know that your childhood will always live within him, and his within you. Jonathan brings his finger up to your bee necklace, his ladybug ring knocks against the pendant. The jewelry glistens in the sunlight. 

“Bee, we were more than just kids together.”

And it’s true. You were everything together. Now, you have to figure out how to be everything while apart. 

– 

The last of the boxes are placed in the moving van. Everyone is crying, you’re all gathered around one another, hugging and saying goodbye. 

You hold El tight and whisper good luck to her. You remind Will that everything will be okay, knowing how scared he’s been of high school and remorseful that he has to do it all alone. The kids all cry as they share the final hugs, Jonathan and Nancy cry as they hold one another. Everyone says goodbye, and you watch them with tears in your eyes. You turn to Joyce to kiss her cheek, but she grabs your arm instead. 

“Remember what you promised me, okay?” She catches your eye, makes sure you hear what she’s telling you. “Live the life that you deserve.”

“I will,” you exhale, and she seems content with that. Joyce hugs you, kisses your cheek, and you tell her to drive safe as she gets into the van. 

Jonathan stands by his car, waiting for you, and you pull the boy into your arms. He crashes against you, clutches you to his chest, and you breathe him in one final time. “I’ll always love you the most, bee.”

“And I’ll always love you the most, bug.” 

Joyce drives away first, El in the van with her, before Jonathan and Will follow. The car pulls out of its driveway one final time, and you hold Nancy’s hand as you both cry. Slowly, their cars fade into the distance, and one by one the kids hop on their bikes and pedal away. No one wants to stay, the empty house feels too permanent, solemn. Eventually Nancy gets into her own car, wishing you a quiet goodbye, until it’s just you and your brother standing in front of the house. 

Dustin stays beside you, as he always does, and you take a deep breath. Nothing will ever be the same again. 

You take one last look at the Byers home, the house you grew up in and discovered pure love and joy and naivety in, and inhale the final scent of your childhood. Dandelions are in bloom, its yellow surrounds the home, soon they will wilt and its seeds will litter the sky

Joyce’s words ring in your head.

It’s time to live the life that you deserve. You’re on your own now, though you know that really you aren’t. Dustin is next to you, Steve and Robin are waiting at your house with movies stolen from work because they knew how hard today would be. Your mother has your favorite cookies ready and waiting for you. Mike and the others have already planned their first letter to Will. 

The charm bracelet from the party and Steve is cool against your wrist. 

You’re no longer the scared, angry twelve year old you had been when you first moved to Hawkins. You’re loved, you have so many incredible people in your life who now get to watch you grow up into someone new. 

Slowly, you exhale your childhood, with a single promise of keeping it within you forever. To live the life that Joyce has told you that you deserve.

And you believe her. 

[END OF SEASON THREE]

-

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[latetaektalk]

love to hate you | jjk [viii]

“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”

— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: 18.351

— warnings: swearing/cursing, communication skills nowhere to be found, chronic overthinking, emotional rollercoaster, confusingly set during christmas <3

— a/n: and just like that we've crossed 100k !! its here, the big one. by far one of my favourite chapters that ive written so far!! hope you guys enjoy it!! praying yall wont hate me for this one haha once again, this is inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han!

You didn’t miss the look Chaeyoung and Jisoo exchanged, or the way Hoseok longingly looked after Jimin as he quickly walked away to get everyone some food after you sat down, or how Jimin muttered something about how someone clearly needed something to eat. The comment didn’t bother you because he was right and you could admit as much.

The mall had never been your favourite place to go, and even less so today. The Christmas decoration put up around you seemed overly tacky and in bad taste, and you could have ripped off your ears, sick of listening to the same three Christmas songs over and over again. You closed your eyes that ached from the bright colourful lights, and scrunched your nose when your arm bumped into one of your shopping bags. Your patience hung by a string, the fibers breaking with every passing second. Everything hurt, from your head to your arms and your feet.

Nothing was right, and there seemed to be no end to it.

“Fries?” 

Jimin specifially offered them to you, placing two medium plates of golden fries in the middle of the table. You took him up on it, taking two and throwing them into your mouth. The fries were bland and not salty enough but you took three more pieces, shoving your face full. As if the grease and carbs would fix anything. 

“Do you wanna try the thrift store that Ji suggested?” Chaeyoung asked, choosing her words carefully, and you cringed, shaking your head. 

“No.”

The silence continued, and you didn’t miss the looks your friends exchanged. There was clearly a conversation going on over your head, but you didn’t care, reaching for one fry after the other.

“Y/N, it’s gonna be fine,” Jimin said in the end, putting his arm around your shoulder. Bold, but when was he not. “Don’t be so down. That one dress- the beige one looked great on you!”

“Yeah, but also, they don’t care about what you wear,” Jisoo continued, not allowing you to even begin to disagree.

“And you still have time to find the perfect thing, right? If you do decide that the dress isn’t up to standard. Didn’t you get some stuff online too?” Hoseok asked, trying to get you to look at him, but you just closed your eyes and pulled your lips into a line.

They didn’t get it. But telling them that would be of no use, just like how their words didn’t encourage you the slightest bit. 

“I promise you Kook’s parents are really the sweetest people I’ve-”

“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know,” you mumbled, cutting off Jimin. You rubbed your eyes until you saw black spots. With a sigh, you leaned back. “I’ll figure it out, I think.”

There was no confidence in your words. To you, it seemed like your life was about to end, all over a stupid outfit you couldn’t put together. The thought almost made you laugh and cry at the same time. This was as ridiculous as it could get. 

“What did Kook say?” Chaeyoung asked, and you frowned.

“About what?”

She blinked at you, her brows creasing together. “Well, have you talked to Kook about any of this? How you’re worried about meeting his parents?”

You pressed your mouth into a line, and you didn’t even know where to begin. It seemed futile to you to explain that you possibly couldn’t tell Jungkook about all of the thoughts suffocating your mind. You would look stupid, like an absolute fool. You would look like you cared, and really, you didn’t. It would weird him out—how much you stressed about it, how much it was on your mind. But then again, really, actually, you didn’t care at all. You just were… especially irritable these days. Hormones were raging—your period, of course, greeting you just a day prior.

“No,” you exhaled, shaking your head. You didn’t know what exactly you were denying—you being stressed about meeting his parents, or you not talking about it to him. Probably both. “He’s busy with his stuff. He’s got a paper to finish- it’s fine.”

And even though you closed your eyes, you knew your friends were looking at each other. There was a carefulness with which they spoke to you, and you did feel bad. Just nothing seemed to lift your spirits.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t been in… a good mood these days,” you told them, getting more annoyed at yourself for being the way you were. You hid your face in your hands. “I don’t know what’s up with me.”

“It’s fine,” Jimin assured you. “We know you’re stressed.”

Jisoo placed an arm around you, leaning her shoulder against yours. She opened her mouth before closing again, ultimately she decided to speak. 

“What if… you don’t go?” 

“Ji,” Jimin whispered, looking at her as if she had just suggested something criminal.

“I’m just saying— it’s stressing her out so much, maybe she shouldn’t go.” Jisoo shrugged, believing her suggestion to be rather harmless. “She can meet his parents another time, right?”

You looked at her. She grimaced, apologetic, about to backpedal, taking your expression as offence. But you waved her off. Her suggestion was meant well, you knew that. It would also be more than a lie to say you hadn’t thought about it too. Of course, you had. But you couldn’t do it. Not when the image of Narae popped into your mind every time you did consider it. 

“Okay, fine,” Jisoo sighed, relenting. “But I’m just saying he’ll understand if you don’t want to go. It’s not like you guys are getting married.”

Chaeyoung mumbled something to her, but you couldn’t hear it. If you had to guess she told her to lay it off, which you were admittedly thankful for.

“I don’t even have gifts,” you groaned, remembering that your outfit wasn’t the only issue plagueing your mind. “Do I bring an actual gifts? Or just wine? Flowers? Something more personal? I don’t fucking know.”

“Do you have to bring them anything?” Hoseok asked, frowning. “I mean yeah, I guess it’s Christmas and you’re meeting them for the first time, but I don’t know, I’m not sure if you have to bring them anything.”

“I don’t think you do. They’re just happy to meet you, I promise,” Jimin said, squeezing your shoulder, but somehow, his answer annoyed you even more. Because what if he was wrong? And they use it as a reason as to why they didn’t like you because you showed up empty handed? Poor and rude? You wouldn’t even take a single step in their home. And even if Jimin was right, that they were just happy to meet you—it seemed even worse. Because all you had to show for yourself to Jungkook’s parents then would be…. yourself. 

And what if that wasn’t enough?

You groaned, leaning back again. Everything was making your situation only worse, giving you an even bigger headache, feeding the heavy pit in your stomach. And as you spiraled, you didn’t notice the rather obvious text Chaeyoung send, or the even more obvious way Jimin’s phone lit up on the table to display it, just for him to quickly grab it and start typing. Jisoo leaned over to look, and Chaeyoung quickly mumbled something into Hoseok’s ear. You wouldn’t even notice the way Chaeyoung jumped when you spoke suddenly again,

“Let’s just finish eating and go home. I wanna go home.” 

No one protested.

By the end, the fries were gone and the grease had eaten through the recycled brown paper plates, and your mood wasn’t much better, still the same level of annoyance always buzzing in the back of your mind. Grabbing the bags from the various shops you had walked in and out of with your friends today, you made your way out of the mall. Stepping outside, you hugged yourself, the wind harsher than the past few days. 

“What way is your car again?” you asked, teeth gritting. Your question was aimed at Chaeyoung, but you didn’t have the nerve to look at her. With the tip of your boot, you scraped against the concret, enjoying the way it rolled back and forth. You lifted your head when no one would answer, confused by the silence.

“Oh, uh,” Chaeyoung began, glancing at Jimin who was typing away on his phone. “Give us… a minute.”

She said it as if it was a question, gesturing for you to wait. You looked over to Jisoo and Hoseok for some sort of explanation, but they both kept their mouths shut.

“Where’s your girlfriend’s car?”

Hoseok blushed, and you knew he still wasn’t used to the development of his and Chaeyoung’s relationship. It was cute, and it did make you smile a little.

“Just tell me.” 

You tried nice. Nice didn’t work.

“I-I don’t know.” 

You sighed, your hands on your hips, shopping bags knocking on your legs. The cold wavered your voice.

“Ji?”

But rather than even say anything, or make an attempt to stall you, she waved you off, flicking her wrist back and forth. At least, Hoseok and Chaeyoung tried to dismiss you subtly.

“Oh my God, what are you guys looking at? Can we just go home, I’m really cold here and I just wanna-”

“Ah, yes, he’s here!” Jimin exclaimed before slapping his hand over his mouth, eyes wide. “Oops.”

You stopped, not needing a second to understand. Jisoo punched his arm. 

“You texted Jeon?”

If you were upset and annoyed before, you were even more so now. You leaned forward, as if the reality weighed down on you and physically pushed you. Your eyes darted back and forth between your friends before ultimately landing on Jimin, who was shrinking in on himself.

“Are you guys for real?” you hissed, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You could have ripped out your hair. “But why?”

Everyone looked to Chaeyoung. “We- we think it’d be good if you talk to him. You’re clearly stressed about meeting his parents, so why not talk about it?”

She added on a smile, and you closed your eyes, groaning. 

“Guys, I’m fine.” You dug your hands through your hair, looking over your shoulder, relieved to see that he was nowhere. “Where is he? Is he here already? Tell him to go home. He has a paper to-”

An arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Go home.”

“Damn, hi, it’s nice to see you too, cabbage,” Jungkook laughed, grinning at you even as you frowned at him. He pinched your nose, and you didn’t even have it in you to swat his hand aside, closing your eyes instead. 

“You guys weren’t kidding. She’s in a bad mood.”

Your frown deepened, mouth setting into a thin line. Jungkook squeezed your shoulder, quietly apologising to you for his comment, but his smile remained on his lips. 

“Alright, I think—” Chaeyoung hooked her arm into Hoseok’s. “—it’s time to go.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll take her home,” Jungkook said, nodding to confirm his own words. “Get home safe.”

“Great, text us when you get home,” Jisoo said, waving at you. “We love you, Y/N! And oh, nice scarf!”

Jungkook laughed, thanking her.

“Yeah, good luck, Kook! Also love ya, Y/N!” Jimin laughed before taking off, sprinting ahead, scared you might just throw one of your bags after him. (Which you were strongly considering) The others waved you goodbye, and even though you were more than ticked off, you did the same, mumbling a goodbye their way. God knows they had put up with your attitude with enough grace today already. You sighed once they left your sight, shrugging off Jungkook.

You looked at him and your gaze softened, if only a little. Even more so when you saw it, wrapped around his neck so prettily. There was something very messy about him today—his hair not done in its usual way, hanging into his eyes, getting longer each time you saw him, the collar of his coat not folded down properly. If you had to guess, he had walked out the moment he got the text from Jimin. But he had thought of your scarf, looped it around his neck carefully. Looking at him now, out in the cold, you were glad you had invested the time into learning how to knit. The scarf suited him, the red matching him well. You were almost tempted to knit another one, one in every colour.

“You’re wearing the scarf.”

“Of course,” he returned, smiling at you, and you wondered if his cheeks hurt, red from the cold. 

The thought embarrassed you. You looked down, returning to rolling the tip of your boot on the conrete, back and forth, back and forth.

“Go home.”

“Okay, yeah, let’s go home together.”

He reached to take the bags from you, but you pulled away, lifting your head. “No, Jeon, go home. I’m fine.”

Jungkook shoved his hands into his pockets, shaking his head. This wasn’t going to be easy, he realised. “And how will you get home?”

His question made you frown, as if that was the issue at hand right now. You almost scoffed.

“I’ll walk-”

“Right, because walking in the cold is such a good idea, hm?

“Fine, I’ll take the bus.”

“Do you even know where the next bus station is?” 

“I can look it up.”

“Or you can just, you know,“ he leaned towards you, and you couldn’t back off, “not be so stubborn and let me just give you a ride home.”

You pursed your lips, shaking your head. Why was he being oh so frustrating? Why couldn’t he make this easy for you? Why wasn’t he at all discouraged by your behaviour? It didn’t make any sense to you. He should be annoyed with you and your attitude, infuriated because you were being difficult for no real reason. And yet, he smiled and laughed at you, showed you patience. It was strange to you, unexpected.

“I never asked you to pick me up.” 

It was like you were a goddamn teenager, fighting with her parents, trying your very best to tick them off. It was like you wanted him to be mad at you, and in some ways, in some real ways, maybe you did. You felt sorry for your friends about your attitude, but not with Jungkook somehow. For some reason, you couldn’t extend the same empathy to him. At least not in this moment.

He didn’t say anything, hesitated, his brows creasing together. His eyes darted to the ground before ultimately finding you again, tongue in his cheek, nodding. For a moment, you thought you won, did it. 

“Yeah, you didn’t,” Jungkook said, taking one two three steps in your direction, slowly prying the shopping bags from you. “But I’m still here to pick you up.”

And when he met you with a smile, you knew there wasn’t anything you could do. You let your head hang, as tears shot into your eyes. It had never happened before, you were never one quick to cry, but right now you felt like it. You blinked them away, not allowing Jungkook to know.

He took your silence as a sign of defeat, which it was. Very much so. He had won, and you had to admit that you were actually relieved. That he had proven you wrong, that he hadn’t just left after you had repeatedly insisted he should, or gotten annoyed and sick with you. 

Jungkook shifted all of the shopping bags into one hand, using his free one to grab yours. Like he would, of course he would, he placed a kiss on the back of your hand before putting your hands into his coat pocket to keep warm, together. You could have begun crying again.

“Be a good girlfriend, alright?” he told you, leading you to his car, and you scoffed, hoping your voice didn’t sound as unstable and shaky as you felt.

“Be a good girlfriend?” you repeated, raising a brow. Jungkook was quick to see his mistake and correct himself,

“I mean, let me be a good boyfriend to my girlfriend and pick her up after a—” He hesitated, squinting as if he was searching for the right word. “—fun, right?”

There was something inherently cheeky and smug about Jungkook. But you couldn’t quite take offence to any of it, nodding, even if you knew that today wasn’t the funnest day. (And you were to blame.)

“Fun day at the mall with her friends.”

You pressed your lips together. “But what about your paper?”

He paused and looked at you before shaking his head and laughing. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m almost done. I’ll finish it at your place.”

His hand squeezed yours, and you hated how warm he made you feel. How the warmth spread from your chest to the the tips of your ears and feet. How even if you tried, he remained patient with you. You hated it because it made it so much harder, for you not to fall for him again and again. You hated it because you almost believed him that you could be one of those stupidly in love couples that held hands in their pockets and made each other scarfs.

Jungkook opened the car door for you, and you climbed inside, thankful for the few seconds you had to yourself as he loaded your shopping bag into the trunk. Without a word, he gave you his phone, and by now, you knew the drill. 

You unlocked his phone in second before quickly typing in your current location into Google maps. Your address popped up at the top, bookmarked, when you tapped to enter the destination. Handing him his phone back, you wondered what Jungkook’s password meant, 09052020. It seemed so oddly specific, but you didn’t bother asking.

“You should show me what you got.”

The water remained in your mouth a second longer before you swallowed it, slowly screwing the top back on the bottle, eyes set on Jungkook. You shook your head and leaned against your kitchen counter. He was just a few steps away from you, sitting on your couch, taking up all the space, arms spread left and right. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

He gave you a look, as if to say oh please! His head rolled back for a second.

“I think you should.”

You didn’t respond, pulling your phone out of your pocket instead. Deeming your silence as enough of an answer, you scrolled through your phone, opening the group chat between your friends and you, your feet crossing at your ankle. But before you could even read one text-

“But isn’t that why you were in a bad mood?”

It seemed brave of Jungkook to address it so openly. Or maybe just incredibly honest. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t seem afraid at all that you might just dip back into your bad mood at the mention of it and come out bats swinging. It was admirable in some ways. You didn’t rememeber him to be this confrontative a few months ago when you started this, him and you. He seemed to have found a confidence with you now, convinced he knew the ins and outs of you. Maybe he did. He probably did, in some ways. You couldn’t say if you liked it all that much.

You snorted, an attempt to make light of the situation. “Yeah, so why bring it up again?”

Jungkook reached his hands out to you, a gesture for you to come his way. You thought about it for a moment before abandoning both your phone and the water bottle on the kitchen counter and moving over. He scooted to the edge of your couch to allow you to step between his legs. His hands held yours, thumbs brushing the inner part of your wrist, back and forth.

“My parents don’t care,” he told you, staring up at you with his big eyes, squeezing your hands as he spoke, physically stressing his words. “They really don’t care, I promise you. They’re just excited to meet you. And so am I, excited.”

He paused, allowing his words to sink in with you and take effect. 

“But I know you care and you’re stressed about it,” Jungkook mumbled, and you couldn’t look at him, eyes finding the floor instead, right where your carpet curled up because sometimes your couch would dig into it and flip it up. It was so very embarrassing that he knew how much you cared. It felt like you were ripping out your heart and letting him inspect it. You wanted to correct him, set the record straight that really, you didn’t care at all whatsoever! but it felt like a cheap attempt, even more humiliating.

“So why don’t you show me?” he asked, shaking your hands to get you to look at him. You didn’t want to but did anyway. His gaze was soft, just like his smile, and his hair fell into his eyes. You brushed it away. It made his smile widen, so much so he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it.

It was sealed for you then.

“Alright, fine,” you sighed, defeated, moving away from him to dig through your shopping bags. “Look away.”

“What? Why?”

“What do you mean?” you frowned. “I’m changing.”

Jungkook’s features morphed from a frown to a smile in a second before he ultimately began laughing. “Are you really gonna be too embarrassed to change in front of me?” He gave you a moment to deny it. “I’ve seen and touched-”

“Oh my God, just turn around,” you hissed, and for some reason, your cheeks were as hot as the sun. “Either that, or I won’t try on anything.”

He exhaled the most dramatic sigh he could, making a point to show you that he even pressed his hands to his eyes. Just for that, you wanted to kick him. But you should have known that Jungkook wasn’t quite done, needing to squeeze in one more comment, purely to annoy you and nothing more. There wasn’t anything serious about it at all, no deeper meaning.

“Are you gonna be like this when we’re married with kids?”

You froze, arms up and your face mushed together by your sweater and half of your body exposed to the naked air with only your bra to show for. He wasn’t serious, you knew. There was lightness and an obvious teasing embedded with his words. You doubted Jungkook even expected a response from you, probably just enjoyed knowing he made you flustered even if he couldn’t see it. And yet, your heart began pounding and your hands sweating and your cheeks burning and your mind reeling for any possible retort you could offer. Before you could stutter something, he spoke again,

“Sorry.”

The smile was evident in his voice, and when you finally peeled off your sweater, you turned out to be right. You shook your head, throwing your sweater at him before you could think better of it. It hit him in the face.

“Ow, cabbage! That’s not fair, I have my eyes-” 

“I’m so close to kicking you out, you know?” you mumbled, keeping your voice quiet as if raising it by any means was dangerous. You pulled off your pants and your stockings you had layered underneath for some extra warmth.

“I said I’m sorry, cabbage.” 

But Jungkook sounded far from sincere. You didn’t bother responding, grabbing one of the shopping bags and slipping on the sweater you had thrifted. It was off the shoulders and this warm midnight blue colour, rich and beautiful and cozy. You moved to your old dresser and pulled out the black maxi skirt you had thought to combine it with. The outfit was simple, but with the right accesoires (ones you would still have to buy which the thought of it already gave you a headache), it could work. At least, it could in theory because when you looked at yourself in your full body mirror (which you had thrifted when you had first moved in), you frowned.

“Can I look?”

You gave a grunt in response, still looking at your reflection as if you had put together the most hideous outfit possible. It wasn’t much of a yes or no, so for a few seconds Jungkook hesitated, but he slowly peeled his eyes open.

“Oh, cabbage! You look so amazing-”

“No.”

It was as simple as that for you, shaking your head.

“What? But you look-”

“I don’t like it,” you said, already moving to take off the skirt. “Close your eyes.”

You expected some sort of protest from Jungkook, but he actually did as you said. Just as quick as you had decided that the outfit wouldn’t work, you peeled it off of you. You rummaged through your next shopping bags, looking at the pieces you had gotten—a cream knit sweater and white maxi skirt. But all of a sudden, you hated it. You clearly remembered loving the clothes in the store, giving the outfit a couple spins and scrutiniscing it from head to toe until it was deemed worthy of your money. But right now as you looked at it, you felt quite the opposite.

With a sigh, you pulled the last shopping bag towards you. It had the dress your friends had mentioned you should wear. This time, you didn’t inspect it any further, not having the nerve for it. So you just bunched up the fabric and slipped it on. But you didn’t tell Jungkook you were finished changing. Instead you turned and looked at yourself in the mirror first.

Jisoo had found it for you—a maxi slip dress. It was in a beautiful and rich wine red colour, oozing warmth, and soft to the touch. The satin flowed down your body, hugging your curves, and reflecting your dim living room lights like water. Lace was stitched along the neckline, which otherwise probably would have been a little too low given the occasion. The straps securing the dress were tied up into small ribbons around your shoulders, giving it a more dainty and playful look. The slit on the left side reached up until your knee, allowing the fabric to move along with your body in harmony. It was a beautiful dress, made for any occasion with the correct accessoires and styling. 

You were objectively and undeniably beautiful in it. 

And yet, you stared at yourself as if it wasn’t, brows knitted together and lips pursed in a pout, eyes wandering up and down. It wasn’t insecurity—you felt great and comfortable in the dress. But something about it just wasn’t right. You tried imaging yourself all dolled up in it, hair and makeup done to your liking, but the frown remained. It wasn’t perfect enough.

You shook your head, moving to take it off. When you turned on your heel, you looked straight at Jungkook, and Jungkook looked straight at you. His eyes were big and wide and set on you, his mouth agape and curling up into a smile. You gasped, both in surprise and upset.

“W-why are you looking?” you hissed, feeling the heat crawl up your neck, and you threw your arms around yourself.

“I’m sorry. You- you just took so long, cabbage. And so I looked and…” Jungkook finished his sentence with a simple shrug and smile. You frowned at his answer, shaking your head.

“Close your eyes,” you spat through gritted teeth, turning around to change out of the dress. “I’m changing-”

“What? Why?” Jungkook sounded genuinely confused, jumping up from his seat and moving your way, shaking his head. “You look amazing! Please don’t change. I love this dress on you!”

He stopped short in front of you, turning you around and taking your hands into his. 

“This dress suits you so well,” he whispered as if it was some sort of secret. You looked to the mirror behind you, inspected yourself, eyes shooting up and down. Jungkook stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers interlacing in front of the soft of your belly. He pushed you to lean fully against him, his eyes scanning every inch of you.

“You’re so pretty. So very pretty.” 

His words tasted like Christmas chocolate, were thick with honey and sugar, stuck to your teeth. They were bad. Horrible. For you and your heart. Because they sounded so very believable. 

“You look incredible.”

He finished with a kiss to the back of your head, and you didn’t know where to look. You placed your hands on his, tentatively, and he was quick to take them into his, scoop them up and hold them tight. He had to know, you thought to yourself, how hard your heart was beating.

“Don’t you like it?”

You met his gaze in the mirror, mouth settled into a line. 

“I like the dress,” you said, tilting your head. 

“But?”

“I don’t like it for…”

“Meeting my parents?” Jungkook supplied when you wouldn’t finish your sentence, and you didn’t answer, averting your gaze instead. “What do you not like about it?”

You closed your eyes, feeling so very silly. Because you couldn’t say. You didn’t know. There shouldn’t be anything to dislike about the dress, nothing about it was wrong—you loved every little detail, and even more how you felt in it.

“What do you think?” 

“I don’t think my opinion really matters here,” Jungkook laughed, and you peeled your eyes open, a smile tugging on the corners of your lips. He was annoying. Just couldn’t provide you with a simple answer when he even has already voiced his thoughts. “But I think you look really pretty in this dress.”

You scrunched your nose. “How pretty?”

“So pretty I wouldn’t mind going blind now.”

You smiled, no, grinned. He was so stupid.

“So pretty I can’t believe you don’t like it.” 

You tilted your head to the side.

“So pretty I don’t want you to ever take it off again.” 

He pressed kisses to your neck and shoulder, nose burying into your hair, words mumbled into your skin, and hands beginning to wander further south, scrunching the fabric. You let him.

”So pretty I want to take a picture of you and print it out and hang it up above my bed and also keep another one in my wallet and change my background picture to-”

“O-okay, enough!” you said, pushing him away from you because your limbs were beginning to tingle and burn, and his touch was sending shocks through your entire body. Even more so, his hands were beginning to go to places he shouldn’t, not right now at least. You made sure to keep him at an arm’s length, palm pressing into his chest, in fear he’d simply close the distance if you didn’t physically stop him.

“You’re so ridiculous, Jeon,” you said, shaking your head, laughing a little. “You can never be serious, can you?”

“But I am! I’m very serious! Looking at you makes me wanna-”

You were quick to shake your head, hands pressing to your ears because no no no, you didn’t want to know! All while you were smiling, grinning almost. Without realising it, Jungkook had done the impossible—lifted your mood, made you laugh when you felt irritated and annoyed by everything before. 

“Fine, I won’t tell you!” Jungkook sighed, dramatically rolling his eyes. You looked at him, lowering your hands, your smile cemented on your lips.

“You’re so stupid, Jeon,” you mumbled, scrunching your nose, and he gasped in faux upset.

“That’s so mean, cabbage!”

“Oh, just shut up.”

Jungkook slung his arms around your middle, doing so before you could even think to stop him. His chin dropped to your shoulder, hands scopping up yours again and eyes meeting in the mirror.

“So, what do we think?”

You raised a brow. “Now, it’s we? I thought your thoughts didn’t matter-”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a second. “Fine, what do you think?”

And you inspected yourself again, gaze wandering up and down. You didn’t know what it was, but the dress seemed different now. It was still the same fabric, same cut, nothing had changed, but you remembered why you had bought the dress, why you had taken Jisoo up on her offer to try it on when she had shown it to you. Because it was beautiful, even more so with you in it.

“Is this the dress?” Jungkook whispered into your ear, and you knew he was hoping for a yes. 

You tilted your head to the side, heart beating faster when you opened your mouth. Because yes, it was. The dress, choosing it, it was another step closer to meeting Jungkook’s parents, another hurdle out of the way. Your eyes met his in the mirror, his face so close to yours. The two of you standing there together, you almost could convince yourself you were an actual couple.

“Yeah, it is.”

He beamed, tightening his arms around you, letting out a small sigh of relief. “Okay, good, I’m glad.”

You lowered your gaze, and you wondered if he maybe feared you wouldn’t go because you couldn’t find anything to wear. If maybe that was the reason for why he came so quickly because he didn’t want you to use that excuse. Because otherwise he would have to explain to his precious and perfect parents why his girlfriend refused to meet them-

“How does the 22nd sound to you by the way?” Jungkook asked, pulling you out of your trains of thoughts, almost as if he knew. He mumbled the words into your skin, and you felt every move of his lips. “To meet my parents, I mean.”

Just eight days.

“Y-yeah, that… should work,” you returned, breathless and high pitched, eyes finding the floor. He stared at you in the reflection, nudging you to do the same. You hesitated, but did as he said, breath hitching in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you, oh so sincere and genuine.

“It’s gonna be fine.”

There was something assuring about the way he said it. If anyone elses told you these words, it would do you no good, bring you no relief. But when he did, it did. It was silly really.

“I promise you.”

“Yeah, really, Jeon?” you laughed shallowly, tucking a strand behind your ear and swallowing. “You promise me?”

And as if looking at your mere reflection just wasn’t enough for him, Jungkook turned you around by your hips, forcing your eyes to meet his. 

“I promises you, cabbage. I won’t leave you for one second, alright? Hell, I will drive you there and home again, okay? I’ll be there with you for every second of the day, from the moment you wake up to the moment you go back to bed, glued to your side, so much so you’ll be so annoyed by me that you’ll want me gone. You won’t even go the bathroom on your own, okay?” He paused for a second, scrunching his nose. “I’ll make sure you will have the most non awkward but perfect and fun evening possible.”

His phrasing made you laugh, ebbed the waves of anxiety crashing onto your mind over and over again when you thought a little too much about the next week. His parents, him and you, in one room. 

“It’s gonna be great.”

Jungkook smiled at you, a little too bright and too wide. You returned it to the best of your abilities, letting him pull you back into a hug, eyes falling shut.

“Okay, I believe you,” you told him, hearing his heart beating in his chest. “For once.”

He tightened his arms around you.

(“Do you think it will have snowed by then?” he asked you when the intro to the new episode of Avatar began playing on his laptop. You looked up, eyes catching his, your head rested against his chest and his arms around you.

“What?”

“By the 22nd I mean. Do you think it will have snowed by then?”

You frowned, thinking of the last few winters. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

He thought about your answer for a few more seconds, looking off to the side before returning your gaze. “I hope. I’d like to spend a proper white Christmas with you.”

“Pray to the Gods then,” you said. “Chances aren’t so good.”

The past few years it had always only snowed in January.

“Oh, I do, every day,” Jungkook laughed, and you hummed, focusing back on the episode and missing the way his gaze softened at your sight.)

“Okay, so I’ll be back right before New Year,” Chaeyoung said, giving her calendar one last look before snapping it close again. “Who of us is gonna be here?”

Hoseok and you both let out affirmative noises, and Jimin raised his hand in a yes as well, mouth stuffed with his sandwich. You scooted closer to the table to let a guy squeeze through as he made his way to the lunch table with his friends, a tray full of bland and dry cafeteria food.

“I’m not sure yet,” Jisoo said, taking a handful of grapes from her purple grape shaped lunch box and plopping each one into her mouth. “My sister asked if I wanted to celebrate New Year’s with her. But maybe she’ll go over to her girlfriend’s. She isn’t sure yet. I’ll text you guys?”

“I’ll be here the entire holidays,” Namjoon sighed. “I still have finals.”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” you said, offering him a smile. He waved you off, mumbling something about how at least he was almost finished up with it all. 

“Well, at least we will be spending New Year’s together, right?” Jimin said with a smile.

You took a sip from your green tea, needing warmth because your University never turned on the heaters, preferring their students to freeze. Where did your tuition money go? 

“Okay, but how about Christmas eve for everyone else? When are you guys heading back home again?” Hoseok asked, shovelling his protein oatmeal into his mouth. “You’re going tonight, right, Ji? With Jennie?”

“Yeah, our train’s booked for 8 pm.”

“I’ll go on the 23rd,” Jimin said, and Chaeyoung echoed the same. 

“You’re going tomorrow, right?” she asked Hoseok, and he nodded. “When are you meeting Kook’s parents again, Y/N? The 22nd?”

“Yeah.” You played with the lip of your paper cup, feeling the warmth of your tea. Your heart grew a little heavier, scared one of them would ask when you’d go meet your parents. Because you weren’t, at least not on Christmas eve. Both of them had to work, unable to take a day off. It was an irrational fear, you were aware. Because your friends knew that very well. They’d never ask, but your heart didn’t understand.

“That’s- oh my God, that’s in four days, huh?” Jisoo gasped, and the horror and terror gripping you must have reflected on your face because she was quick to interject. “Oh, sorry. No, it’s gonna be great, Y/N. I don’t know why I said that. That was stupid.”

“You’re still anxious about it, huh?” Hoseok mumbled, and though he worded it like a question, all of you knew the answer.

“Hard not to be,” you said, voice a little short and curt. “It comes in… waves.”

Namjoon patted your shoulder. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Chaeyoung reached for your hand, squeezing it. “Yeah, I’m sure. We’re all gonna be there for you if it does somehow go wrong—which I highly, highly doubt might I add.”

“Well, not Jisoo. She’s gonna be home, busy showing off her Jennie,” you joked, trying to make light of the situation but it sounded just slightly off.

“What? I can’t be there for you from home?” Jisoo gasped, and before you could question how she’d do that, she continued. “I’m there for you too, telepathically! Jennie too! In your heart! Always! Over the phone! Don’t doubt us!”

You laughed a little, mouthing an apology.

“But you definitely won’t need us,” Jimin said. “Because it’s gonna be fine. Especially because Kook’s gonna make sure of it, okay?”

Before you could return something, your eyes were drawn to the doors.

Oh.

Your friends followed your gaze.

Jungkook had his backpack strapped to his shoulder and the red scarf wrapped around his neck. It shouldn’t be possible. You were technically too far for you to properly see, but you saw it—the tension in his shoulders, the strain in his nape, the deep knit between his brows. He was…. annoyed. It was new to you. For a moment, you almost expected to find Narae walking behind him, bugging him, hot on his trail. It would explain it to you, and you would just simply walk over there and pull him to your table. Just like that, you would ease the knit between your brows, take the tension out of his shoulders and neck-

But it wasn’t Narae. 

It was Taehyung. 

He said something to Jungkook that made him roll his eyes. Jungkook didn’t seem to want to respond, shaking his head and waving his hand around, an attempt to end the conversation. But Taehyung wasn’t so kind, going on, even taking hold of his shoulder.

“Someone is in a mood,” Namjoon mumbled, cringing.

“What are they talking about, Y/N?” Jimin asked, looking at you, and you stared right back at him, frowning.

“How would I know?”

“You’re his girlfriend.”

“So?”

“Go find out.”

“What? I just walk up to them and say,” you raised your voice a few pitches, “‘Oh my God, hi, you guys are clearly fighting. Care to share?’ Is that what you want?”

Jimin blinked, shrugging. “Sure, that would work.”

“You’re so ridiculous, Jimin,” you hissed, touching a hand to your forehead. “That wouldn’t work.”

“Of course, it would. Kook’s absolutely obsessed-”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Chaeyoung hissed, slapping Jimin. “They’re looking!”

“You guys are always so loud,” Hoseok sighed, and you sent him a glare because no, you don’t! It’s just Jimin!

But they were right. Taehyung and Jungkook were both looking at you, their conversation having come to an end. When you met his gaze, Jungkook’s face contorted into something else, features twitching. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it wasn’t the usual. He didn’t soften in the way you were used to when he would see you. And when you tried a smile, Jungkook struggled to return it. You felt shot, and your smile faltered.

But Jimin didn’t sense it at all, wildly waving his hand around, gesturing for the two to come this way. And as if it wasn’t more obvious, he yelled it too, “Hey, Tae and Kook! Come join us!”

Jisoo sighed, “He’s such an idiot.”

Chaeyoung and Hoseok shrugged, as if to say well, it’s Jimin. They were right, it was just Jimin being himself, unaware and impulsive. Namjoon didn’t have any words, shaking his head. 

Jungkook and Taehyung looked at each other, exchanging a few words before the latter glanced at his watch and shook his head. He had to go. Taehyung placed his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, whispering something into his ear. You must have imagined it but it looked like he glanced in your direction. But before you could think about it, Taehyung headed in the same direction he had previously come from, and Jungkook slowly made his way over, not meeting your eyes once.

“What were you arguing about?” Jimin asked when Jungkook stood in front of you, and you watched him grip the strap of his backpack, the skin over his knuckles stretching thin.

“Jimin!” Jisoo hissed, punching him. 

“Ow!”

“Right, yeah, of course, you’d ask,” he smiled. “It’s fine.”

Jungkook said it with a laugh, but it was all wrong. 

“We weren’t arguing.” 

And as if it wasn’t enough, Jungkook put on his brightest and biggest smile. He showed it to everyone. Like a stone plunged into the deep sea, your heart sank. You had seen it before, that smile. It had decorated his lips during the Halloween party when you first walked in, or when you had first hurt his feelings while you had gone costume shopping. 

Namjoon and you looked at each other shortly, both of you sensing it. 

“Is everything-”

“Well, it looked like you were,” Jimin mumbled, accidentally interrupting Namjoon. He waited for Jungkook to budge and cave under his gaze, but when he wouldn’t, he shrugged. “Come sit.”

Maybe he could feel your burning gaze on him, but Jungkook finally glanced in your direction. If only for a second, so very brief. But it dug into your heart and split it open, gutted you and left you utterly empty. You had seen him just yesterday, picked out your dress together, parted ways this morning a few hours ago, and now he seemed like another person. He looked so sad, sad in a way you hadn’t seen before. You didn’t think that any emotion close to that had ever crossed his features, not in your presence at least. It was so new and surprising to you—because somehow in your mind, you had forgotten he had the ability to feel… upset—you froze.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Jungkook said, nailing that same smile back onto his lips as before. “But I’ll see you guys around.”

And before any of you could protest, he was gone, back turned to your table and heading into the crowd. 

“Well, that was… weird,” Chaeyoung said, pointing out the elephant in the room. And as if she had said your name, everyone turned to you for some kind of answer.

You blinked back at them. “Yeah, I-I don’t know.”

There was another beat of silence before ultimately your friends shrugged.

“Maybe it’s just not a good day?” Hoseok proposed, and they were all quick to agree, moving on. And though you didn’t voice it, you knew it wasn’t that. It couldn’t just be that. 

You knew it was about you. It had to be. Taehyung had glanced at your direction. You hadn’t imagined it, that much you were sure of. And the fact Jungkook hadn’t been able to look at you cemented it for you. Your heart quickened, a certain question coming to the front of your mind.

What if Jungkook didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore?

Maybe it had finally clicked with him—what it meant if you met his parents. How ridiculous it was. Because you weren’t his girlfriend. It was his parents after all. How stupid all of it was actually. Not just you meeting his parents, but the entire contract you had. How far it had gone, too far.

You pressed your lips together, a knot forming in your throat. Maybe he didn’t know how to tell you now. Maybe you should be prepared for the very worst. Maybe this was it. Impact incoming! The fall was nearing its end, your end.

Your hands began shaking, curling around the edge of the table for stability. Panic built up within you, panic that really shouldn’t build up at all, you knew. Your friends blurred into an incohesive mess in front of you.

Oh God.

You didn’t see Jungkook for the rest of the day, or the one after that. In fact, you didn’t hear from him at all, until almost two days later. Maybe you should have reached out first—you did think about it. But you simply couldn’t, your hands shaking whenever you’d open your chat with him, your old messages staring back at you almost mockingly. Because what if he told you he wanted to end it? What if this was how it would end because you couldn’t wait and recklessly send a message?

There was a few seconds of silence, the sound of his breathing coming in through unsteadily. You gripped your phone tighter.

“Hey.”

Jungkook still sounded the same, and for some reason, you were surprised. Why you expected him to sound different, you didn’t know. 

“Hi,” you returned, swallowing because it was your voice, in fact, that sounded odd. At least it did to you. You cleared your throat.

Usually, he’d make some joke, ask you about your day, how you were doing, where you were, if you had watched the videos he’d sent you yet, eaten already. Usually, your conversation would be much lighter, easier. Right now, you felt the air hanging between you, pulling your legs closer to your chest as you waited and waited. He had called you, he would have to speak first.

“I’m sorry I didn’t join you guys for lunch the other day,” Jungkook mumbled, and you closed your eyes.

“It’s alright,” you said, a waver to your voice and you couldn’t decide if it was because you felt cold, even though you were tucked into your bed, or because you felt uncertain of it all, like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, the deep sea awaiting you on the other side, waves crashing up on you. 

Neither of you said anything. 

Your throat grew dry, the questions coming back up again within you. Was he going to tell you over the phone? That he didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore. Maybe even that he wanted to call this entire thing off. That he’d realised this wasn’t worth it anymore, doing all of this to win a stupid bet he’d made with Taehyung months ago. It had gotten too exhausting, you had gotten too exhausting for him. Let’s just end it here, tell everyone you’d just fallen out of love. Hell maybe he’d be even willing to tell everyone the truth, how they’d been fooled. It had all been an act! How fun! How could you all think he was in love with-

“Everything’s alright.”

You paused. “What?”

“I-” Jungkook faltered, letting out a laugh. It came through oh so light and clear. Just not quite genuine. Or maybe you were imagining it, your mind dissecting every of his words. “I’m just trying to say- things are alright. It’s gonna be okay.”

And for some reason, you knew the words weren’t meant to reassure you. But him. He needed it right now, more than you. You blinked, nodded as if he could see.

“Yeah, everything’s alright,” you repeated, quietly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

What exactly he referred to, you weren’t sure. And you weren’t going to ask. He’d tell you when he wanted you to know, when he was ready. Truth be told, you weren’t even entirely sure if you were ready for it, couldn’t say either where your confidence that it’d be alright came from. 

“It will, right?” he laughed again, that same laugh. It came through now, the tinge of uncertainty swinging with his voice. 

You added a small smile, reassurance. “Of course, it will. Always has.”

Jungkook waited a beat, thought about it for a second. “Yeah, no, yeah you’re right.”

And then, you both went back to silence again. You were the one to break it, doing so before you could think better of it and retreat. The question slipped so quickly past your lips, came out of you with the answer to it packaged within already. For once, you dared something, held out your heart.

“Do you want to come over?”

The question seemed alright at first. He’d tell you he was already on his way, in fact. Had you not heard the engine this entire time? Actually, look outside! How silly of you, he had gotten you again. You’d laugh, buzz him up while telling him how annoying he was. He’d fall into your arms, coat and scarf and shoes still on. There’d be no time for you to tell him to at least take off his shoes because he’d knock you over with his entire weight. But you’d hold him up, if not barely and struggling heavily. You’d do it, and you’d do it with a smile. He’d press a kiss to your lips and ask you again if things would just be fine. And you’d do the same as you did on the phone, like a good girlfriend does, you’d reassure him over and over again until you’d be too tired and fall asleep together. Things would truly be alright, you’d meet his parents and maybe resolve it all. Maybe he and you could be something, more. Maybe he meant it, all of it, the gestures and words and kisses. He and you, together, it could be possible-

“I’m sorry—” You wanted him to stop then. He didn’t need to elaborate. It was enough. You bit down on your tongue, hard. “I’m… just really tired today.”

Jungkook hesitated, spoke slowly, and you wanted to laugh it off, tell him it was alright and to go to sleep, but your throat knotted into a terrible mess. 

He didn’t want you to meet his parents.

“Hm.”

It was the only response you could offer. Because if you spoke, he would know, and he couldn’t know—the tears that shot into your eyes.

You pressed your hand to your mouth, and wondered if your reassurance had done anything at all. If not actually you had needed it, even more than he did. 

“I think- classes was exhausting, so yeah. You know, right? So I’m gonna go to bed now,” Jungkook said, and you nodded, as if he could see you, and if you checked, you’d realise it was just eight. You bit your tongue harder.

He never liked you.

“Okay,” you squeaked out, your voice a few pitches too high. He had to know, you were sure of it. Anyone would know, even a drunk Jimin could figure it out. It was blatantly obvious, and you pressed your hand harder against your mouth, scared as you awaited what he’d say. You wouldn’t know how to answer his questions if he asked you why you cried. It would be utterly humiliating to admit why—that you knew you never meant anything to him beyond what you’d agreed upon, but that he did to you. So much, in fact. 

“Goodnight-”

You ended the call, your phone displayed his name for a few more seconds before you tossed it aside, uncaring that it bounced off your bed and you’d have to look for it later on the floor. A part of you wanted to laugh, outright laugh out loud, laugh so loud because maybe it would drown it out. Because were you not just silly? Stupid? Even more so for the tears that rolled down your face and stained your duvet three shades darker. Clear evidence of your silliness, your delusion, your unwavering and foolish hope. 

It embarrassed and humiliated you, how quickly the tears came, how his words had crashed onto you, ship-wrecked you, buried you under. His words hurt, and his dismissal even more. Two words had been enough, had pierced your heart and left you tiptoeing a cliff. Jungkook had more power than you thought he did, power he shouldn’t be holding over your head and heart to begin with. Power he shouldn’t have because you didn’t have it over him.

A text awaited you one morning, just a day before the 22nd.

[Jeon - 07:01 AM] : can i come over later tonight?

And a text was all it took.

Jungkook was not even a second late. Someone was in a hurry to get this over with, it almost made you laugh. Your doorbell rang the moment the clock turned seven. Still, you shrieked, hesitated, stared at your front door like you hadn’t known he’d come, like you hadn’t expected him to come.

You busied yourself with your phone, swiping back and forth, as he climbed up the stairs, your back turned to the door. You just couldn’t watch as he stepped inside. This was it. He’d tell you that he’d realised this had gotten too far, out of hand. You wouldn’t have to meet his parents tomorrow, you had done your part. He’d thank you, assure you he’d break the news to your friends and take the blame. It’d be alright, you wouldn’t have to do anything. And just like before you had ever talked to Jungkook at the vending machine, you’d go your own ways. 

His steps grew louder, echoed less and less until he was inside. A draft pulled through your small flat as he shut the door behind you, quiet but final. You shivered and turned off your phone, heart heavy in your chest as you prepared yourself to turn around and face him. You had thought about it all day, agonised how it’d be like to see him again the past week, how you’d handle this, how you could retain just a bit of your pride at the end of this. The scenario played over and over again in your mind—you’d look at him with a smile, tell him you understood perfectly and he didn’t need to explain. It had been stupid anyway, fun but stupid. Both of you knew this wasn’t anything really, it would come to an end. You didn’t mind it at all. 

“You know, it’s alright, Jeon. I know what you wanna-”

Jungkook wrapped his arms around you with his coat and scarf and shoes on. He pressed you to his chest, held you even tighter when you hesitated to return his hug, as if he needed to physically feel you, be sure you were there.

You hadn’t seen him all week, and all of a sudden, you didn’t know what to do around him anymore.

“Jeon?” 

“Can you hug me?” he asked you, voice barely above a whisper, and though you had been so sure about what would happen just seconds ago, pictured how your conversation would go, you realised you knew nothing at all. You did as he said, putting your arms around his middle and squeezing as tightly as you could, holding your breath even.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like this, but when you pulled away, Jungkook looked at you in a way you had never seen. He took your hands into his.

“I’m sorry, cabbage,” he began, and in the dim light, you could see his eyes glaze over. “I don’t know what’s been going on with me for the past week.”

He paused, breathed in deeply, looked to the side before returning his gaze to you. 

“I think- there’s just been a lot on my mind, and I had to figure it out first, I think,” he continued. “I-I don’t think I fully have, but I will, soon.”

You looked at him, silent for a few seconds before you nodded, brushing your thumbs over the inside of his wrists.

“That’s okay,” you told him, giving him a smile. “It’s fine. I understand.”

Truth be told, you didn’t know where you took your words from, where you dug up that reassurance again. Because you’d felt the opposite for the past week. It’d been a horrible week for you, sleepless and anxious. 

You’d been tiptoeing a thin line, wondering every second when exactly this would blow over, just how close you were to impact, when your fall would end. Would it be a text? A call? Would he just show up to your doorstep unannounced one evening after you had come back from exhausting classes and do it then? Or would it be Jimin who’d relayed the messages? Would he not tell you at all, deeming not worth the effort even? So, it had been nice to be told the truth—that things had been confusing for Jungkook and he hadn’t figured out how to navigate it all—and yet you weren’t sure if it was enough for you, if it qualmed your worries.

“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” Jungkook repeated, and you wondered what he was so sorry for that he needed to apologise twice. If maybe you were right. Why else would he feel so apologetic? Was the ending coming and he just needed some more time to figure out the order of his words, unable to bring it over his heart? 

You should ask him if the things plaguing his mind was how to end this. You should, really. Regardless of the answer, it would free you, however painful it might just be. You’d find peace. Maybe you feared the pain too much, the tears that would run down your face, the embarrassment that would rip you into pieces, or maybe you didn’t care enough for yourself to find out the truth, but you didn’t ask. 

Your smile grew bigger, and you didn’t know who you were fooling, him or you. “Don’t be. It’s okay, Jeon.”

Jungkook took your face into his hands, staring into your eyes, looking so intensely at you like he’d never before. He was searching something, and you weren’t sure if he found it, if you held whatever he looked for at all.

“It’ll be fine,” you said, and this was for you, not him. 

“It’ll be fine,” he repeated, nodding, and as he leaned closer to you, you wondered if the same would apply tomorrow. When you’d meet his parents, stand in front of them. When they’d scrutinise every little detail about you and come to their conclusion on who you were before you could even open your mouth and utter your name. 

You let Jungkook pull you into a kiss, returned it with the same intensity. Both of you needed it right now. What exactly you offered each other, you couldn’t pinpoint. But it was enough to silence your mind and his too. 

When his hands wandered, so did yours. He pushed you to your bed, and you let your mattress catch your fall. Your sweater landed on your floor, and soon the rest of your clothes followed. His coat and the scarf you had made him found its place at the foot of your bed. He struggled for a bit to kick off his boots before ultimately stumbling out of them.

Jungkook pressed kisses from your lips to your ear down to your neck and collarbone. Slowly, they wandered further down and down, stopping as he paid extra attention to the places he learned you liked, made your back arch in his favourite way and your breath hitch so beautifully in your throat. Soon, you were pleading with the Gods above, curling your hands around your duvet as Jungkook familiarised himself with you again. His hands pried you open, splitting you into two again and again, bringing you high above. You returned the favour, listened as he found religion through you, drawing out his relief until he needed your lips on his instead. By now, you knew him blindly, your hands finding the sensitive parts of him even as he carved his way back to yours.

“I’ve missed you,” Jungkook mumbled into your ear when he began moving, and you smiled, wrapped your arms around him. So had you. 

“Me too,” you returned, your hips finding a steady rhythm together. He pressed kisses to your skin, hands holding you oh so tightly like he usually would. But he hadn’t said it, hadn’t told you for the entire week, not even now when he would on any other day—that he loved you—and so maybe that was why you fell asleep with an uneasy heart. 

Had he not promised? That he’d be there for every second of the day, from the moment you woke up to the moment you went back to bed, glued to your side until you were sick of him? Was that not what he had said, the words he assured you with? So how was it that you awoke alone, like you had been for the entire past week, without him?

Jungkook wasn’t here, and yet you looked around your home like he could be hidden in some corner. He didn’t like you anymore, you were sure. Why would he? He never did to begin with. Probably regretted this more than anything else, realised just how exhausting it was to be with you. It wouldn’t be worth it. His parents wouldn’t like you, tell him that he could do better. He’d agree- actually he knew that already. Yesterday night had been a mistake, just like all the other times had been. He and you weren’t the same, never could be. Just like two mismatching puzzle pieces, you’d never make a whole picture together. You’d been right, of course. Jungkook could never like you, never saw you as anything more than a paw in this stupid cruel game between Taehyung and you. And you had been played, over and over again. How stupid of you. Foolish! This-

The blaring of your alarm brought you back to reality, the sound filling your ears. You had forgotten to turn it off. You reached for your phone, shutting it off but before you could toss it aside, you saw it. It made you pause, his name atop of your notifications. A voice memo, just over two minutes. Like it had been all you had been looking for, you hurriedly unlocked your phone. You were about to hit start, when you paused, your thumb hovering just above it. Because it could be anything—a simple breakfast run, or a goodbye. A pit grew in your stomach, and you wished he had just left you a clue about what he’d be saying in it. Your chest webbed tightly with anxiety, a rollercoaster in your throat.

You took in a deep breath, bracing yourself, eyes closed as you hit play. Whatever it might be, you’d be fine, somehow, you hoped.

“Hey, I’m so sorry—” Your chest felt so hollow, his voice unsteady. He was running, the wind blowing up the audio. He sounded far away, you had to strain to hear him properly, your phone on maximum volume. “—I know I promised to be there when you’d wake up, but—”

But I just couldn’t do this any longer. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I just didn’t know how to. I’m sorry.

“—my mom called me. She’s having an emergency with her car, and now she’s stuck in- actually, I don’t know where, but I’m on my way there to jumpstart her car. And I thought about waking you up for it, but that felt mean and you looked so peaceful, I just couldn’t. But- it’s so cold, oh my God. Listen, I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’m gonna hurry, okay? So just wait for me, alright? I’ll be there, I promise.”

You heard the door of his car open and close. The wind cut out, and all of a sudden it was quiet. There was ruffling, Jungkook took his phone closer to his face. He sighed, and you could see him right in front of your eyes—sitting there in his car, hair a mess on his head, as he closed his eyes to find his words, a knit between his brows.

“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” he began again. “Both for leaving now because I know I had promised I’d be there, and… again for the past week. I know I’ve been shit, and I know you’ve been confused and- I’m sorry. I haven’t been fair at all-”

Neither had you however, you realised as you listened to him talk. Of course, Jungkook had only left because his mother needed his help. How could you assume the worst of him after everything? When he was so good and kind? Had been all this time to you?

“But we will figure this out, okay?”

Jungkook paused again. You pulled your legs to your chest, burying your face into your knees, teeth sinking into your tongue.

“Let’s talk about this after today. But it’s gonna be fine. Like you said it would.”

You had lied.

“What am I talking about?” He let out a small laugh, and you knew he was shaking his head at himself. “It’s already fine.” 

You felt like a traitor. You were terrible.

“I’ll be back to pick you up, okay? So just wait for me. I hope I can get to you by two the latest. I hope it won’t take too long to figure it all out. You know, I actually don’t know how to jumpstart a car, so I really don’t know why my mom called me.”

He laughed again, and you didn’t think you could ever get the sound out of your mind. It was so pretty and melodic, so good and precious. 

“Well, anyway, I gotta get going, but I can’t wait for tonight already. I miss you.”

You missed him too, loved him even. Did he? Could he? Could you?

It was cowardly of you, hypocritical actually. But you couldn’t do it differently, didn’t have the courage to look at Jungkook and say it. The words wouldn’t leave you, you were certain, if you stood in front of him. He deserved more than a text, but more than that he deserved the truth. And the truth was you couldn’t do this, any of it in fact, not anymore. Couldn’t meet his parents, or even pretend to be his girlfriend any longer, not in good conscience. It had to end.

Your thumbs shook as you slowly found the right letters, strung together the words and sentences. You hit delete every other word, barely getting a paragraph together in almost an hour. Because worst of all, even as you tried to offer some honesty, you knew you couldn’t offer it entirely to him, couldn’t let Jungkook know just how exactly you felt, how deeply you had plunged into love with him. 

I’m sorry, Jeon, but I don’t think I can keep this going any longer. I know I said I’d meet your parents, but I think we’re just going a little too far by doing that. I hope you understand. I know I’m not fulfilling our contract and you’ll lose your bet with Taehyung and I’m really sorry, so I’ll just wire back all the money. I never touched it anyway. 

You were about to finish off the paragraph, deciding that any wishes for your future relationship as friends would be too much to ask for, thumb sliding over the glass, when your phone lit up, buzzing and ringing. And right just then, you accepted the call, your heart dropping in your chest. Your stomach twisted terribly because you couldn’t do this. How could you? Hear his voice, talk to him as if you weren’t just about to call this entire thing off over text? How could you pretend it was all fine when you’d felt gutted for the entire week?

“Hey,” Jungkook greeted you, oh so unaware. You could hear the harsh wind coming through the speaker. “I’m sorry—”

You wished he’d stop apologising. If he just knew what you’d been thinking of him for the past few days, all the assumptions you had made about him and his character, his parents too. 

“—but looks like I won’t make it by two.”

There was a sigh, and you let the silence usher Jungkook to keep on speaking, knowing your voice would merely betray you.

“I tried to jumpstart the car, but yeah, it didn’t work out. We called some people now and seems like we’re gonna have to have the car towed and fixed at the shop.”

The frustration bled through in Jungkook’s voice. It was obvious. He had spent all morning trying desperately to fix his mom’s car in the freezing cold, and now it had come to this.

“We called my dad. He’s on his way here because I still need to go back to my parents and take a shower. It’s gonna take some time—the drive to my parents, the shower and then the drive to your place—so I definitely won’t make it by two. But I should be at your place by three the latest though, I hope that’s fine?”

You closed your eyes, wondered just what exactly you were supposed to say. And so, for a while you didn’t as you gathered yourself.

“Cabbage? Are you there? Can you hear-”

“Y-yeah.” You chewed on your lip, took a few more seconds before speaking. “You… don’t have to come-”

“What? No, I promised you I’d drive you. Let me at least do that,” Jungkook insisted, and you hoped he’d just understand. How direct did you have to be? 

“It’s fine, you don’t have to,” you tried, but to no avail.

He snorted. “Cabbage, I’m driving you. No matter what. My dad’s almost here. You won’t have to wait long. I’ll probably be at your place before three actually. I shower quickly!”

You pressed your hands to your eyes until dark spots appeared, shaking your head. Why couldn’t he just understand? 

A lump knotted your throat shut, your voice wavering as you began speaking, “I-I think we should just-”

“Ah, my dad’s here! I gotta go, cabbage. But please just wait, I’ll be there soon, okay? Can’t wait to see you! It’s gonna be great. You’re gonna charm their asses off, okay?”

And before you could even protest, confess to Jungkook that you couldn’t do any of this, he had hung up. You stared as your phone displayed your lockscreen before ultimately turning black, leaving you with your reflection.

You caught yourself in your mirror, realising how puffy your eyes were. It was blatantly obvious you had cried. You were a mess, in no state to meet anyone’s parents, no less Jungkook’s perfect parents. But now you couldn’t even get yourself out of this anymore, not when you had heard his excitement again. How could you disappoint him? 

Just one more day. You’d do it for one more day, him and you. You’d just get today over with, that much you owed him, and then you’d sit him down to break it all off.

The dress was still oh so beautiful on you, harmonised perfectly with the white cropped cardigan you had picked out for today because it was, indeed, cold like Jungkook had said it was, and you really didn’t want to freeze. Your hair remained the same as always. You had thought about changing it, but decided in the end that at least your hair should be the way you were used to. Same with your jewellery, the same few pieces you wore every day adorning you today too. You kept the makeup minimal, and still it took you ages to get it done, hands shaky as you carefully drew on eyeliner and curled your lashes. 

Looking at yourself you wondered if it was enough to fool everyone, yourself possibly even that you were perfectly fine, that you fit to Jungkook, that he and you could be something more, that your background was the same as theirs, that you were just another Narae, well-off and well-travelled.

But your doubts and worries had no time to brew, your doorbell announcing Jungkook. Shrugging on your coat and slipping into the pair of black kitten heels you had borrowed from Chaeyoung, you gave yourself one more look in the mirror. You looked beautiful, you knew that. Everything about you looked so close to perfect, and yet, you felt the opposite. Today was the last time for Jungkook and you, and just the thought made you want to cry.

You shook your head, not wanting to keep Jungkook waiting any longer. It was truly cold, and you regretted your choice of shoes the moment you stepped outside, cursing yourself. The wind snaked up your legs. Maybe if you knew that this wasn’t going to be your last day together as a pretend couple, you would have run up and changed. But more than ever before, you wanted to look your best today. Because at the very least, however today might end (badly), you looked good.

Jungkook agreed, face lighting up the moment he laid his eyes on you. You tried your very best to return your smile. He looked oh so good too, wondering if he matched you on purpose. His sweater was the same deep rich red as yours, a white turtleneck layered underneath. He paired it off with some black slacks and black boots, your scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. You couldn’t look at him too long, vision beginning to swim when you did, so you focused on the ground, one step after the other.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jungkook gasped, clutching his chest and pretending to have a heart attack. 

“Thank you,” you said, speaking quietly, afraid your voice was going to betray you. “You too.”

Your compliment made his smile turn into a grin. “Well, you’re prettier.”

Usually, you’d make some snarky comment, fall into the same old banter you’d established with him long ago. Today, you could barely bring yourself to look at him. 

“Let’s-”

Jungkook cupped your face, lifting your eyes to him, forcing you to face him. His gaze turned your insides soft and puddy, hands beginning to shake by your side.

“I’m so happy, cabbage,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your lips. It almost made you cry. You screwed your eyes shut. Before the kiss could go on longer, devastate you more, crush you further, you pulled away.

“I-I’ve got lipgloss on,” you mumbled, giving Jungkook a short smile before stepping aside to walk to his car. He laughed behind you, telling you how he didn’t mind at all, but still, he followed you.

Just as you were about to reach for the car door, he did it for you. Always the gentleman. You paused for a second, surprised (why were you?), before climbing inside, heart heavy as you waited for him to just close the car door. Jungkook didn’t though, drawing your eyes back to him.

“Are you sure about the shoes?” he asked you, brows furrowed together. “It’s cold. You’re not even wearing stockings.”

You felt even more self-conscious all of a sudden, tucking your feet underneath the seat, cheeks warming and heart thrumming. These shoes were the only ones that fit with your outfit. You didn’t have an extensive shoe collection, anything you could change into now wouldn’t match. It’d be a waste not to wear them, especially after you had asked Chaeyoung to borrow them.

“Y-yeah, it’s fine.”

Jungkook seemed to disagree, still standing there with the car door in his hand, and when he opened his mouth, you knew he was going to argue with you.

“I really-”

“It’s fine,” you repeated, reaching for the door handle. “Let’s just go. We’re gonna be late.”

The frown didn’t disappear from his face, but he conceded, albeit with a sigh. His hand squeezed yours, and you flinched, pulling it away as if he burned you. Jungkook stopped, eyes shooting to yours.

Your heart dropped in your chest. Oh no. 

You put on your brightest and biggest smile. “Sorry, your hand’s just super cold,” you laughed. 

Jungkook blinked before smiling, “Ah, sorry.”

With that he shut the car door, and you pulled the seat belt across your body, readying your words on your tongue that you had thought of this entire time.

I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?

It was a blatant lie. Every nerve and fibre of your body was lit up, wired tightly. You couldn’t find sleep even if you laid in your bed now. The thought of having to talk to Jungkook for the entirety of the car ride, however, turned your stomach upside down. 

You decided to wait for him to put on the seat belt first before saying it, needing a few more seconds to rid the knot from your throat. From the corner of your eye, you watched as he climbed inside, putting his key into the ignition, rubbing his hands together. But rather than reach for the seat belt, Jungkook fumbled with the console, turning on the heat, carefully turning the knob back and forth. Warm air started blasting from the heaters immediately, wrapping you up from every direction.

“Do you want the seat warmer too?”

He looked at you so sincerely. You crumbled almost.

“I-It’s okay.”

“Just say a word and I’ll change it, okay? Don’t want you freezing,” he said before strapping the seat belt across his chest. You turned to the window. 

Your voice wavered slightly. “Uh, I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?”

“Oh, yeah, no, totally. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when we’re there. Gonna take a while anyway.”

You hummed in response, frowning when you saw Jungkook rub his hands together, blowing into them, even holding them up to the heaters for a few seconds. Before you could wonder for too long, he took your hand into his, thumb brushing back and forth.

“Warm enough?”

He said it with such a beautiful smile. It shattered you. You merely nodded before turning away, eyes closing shut, a lump stuck in your throat. The gesture, however small, dug into your heart like a knife. He was so nice, so kind, so good. And for the past week, you had thought the worst of him. 

You knew you had arrived even before Jungkook parked the car. The engine slowly shut off, keys jangling when he pulled them out. You heard the click of his seat belt, some shuffling, and your heart beat faster as you waited for him to wake you up. Truth be told, you hadn’t thought this through. How were you going to convince him that you had slept this entire time when you hadn’t even for a single second? The last time you had pretended to sleep in the car was when you were seven and didn’t want to go to school. And even then, it hadn’t worked, your mother seeing right through you.

Jungkook had held your hand the entire ride. You had so gotten used to the feeling of his warmth that when he slowly pried his hand out of yours, you felt oddly cold. For a second, you thought you had to have imagined it when you heard the car door open. But when the sound of it softly closing followed, you knew you hadn’t. Maybe he wanted to come around and then wake you up?

You waited a few more seconds but when your car door remained shut, you slowly peeled your eyes open. Once again, Jungkook wasn’t there. But your attention turned to the house across the street instead. Jisoo and Chaeyoung had, of course, asked for Jungkook’s address—Just in case. He had happily sent it to them, and you too if you wanted to forward it to anyone else too. (The fact that Jisoo was over an hour's train ride away didn’t matter by the way.) You couldn’t recall the address, but you did remember the house number, and you were definitely staring at the right house right now.

It was bigger than you could have imagined it to be. It was so absurdly big, almost cartoonishly so. Even more so because it was decked out with all kinds of Christmas lights and stockings. You doubted no second the inside rivalled Chaeyoung’s and Jisoo’s home. But however ridiculous it was to you, this was Jungkook’s childhood home, the house where he grew up in. Where he spent his childhood and teenage years. This particular house. A house. Whilst you grew up in a flat, just with enough space to cram in your little family.

You saw him then, standing next to the expensive car parked in the driveway. Jungkook opened the car door to the passenger seat, and a second later, his mother stepped out. He offered her his hand, earning himself a big smile from her. From inside the car, you couldn’t hear what she said, but you could imagine it. She was right, he was a great son. 

Jungkook looked a lot like his mother, you realised. She had gifted him with her kind eyes and soft big smile. No wonder, her son was so beautiful. She was an elegant woman. It was obvious. The kind of woman that wore cashmere sweaters, baked fresh bread every Sunday, made sure to do her skincare routine every morning and night, expensive creams and serums lining her bathroom cupboard. Not a single hair on her head was grey. She was the perfect wife and mother.

From the driver's seat, a man emerged, Jungkook’s dad. There was a hint of grey colouring his hair, but he pulled it off well. He was shorter than Jungkook by a bit, but you could see right away where Jungkook got his confidence from. For a moment, you wondered if that was how Jungkook would look like when he was older. Would he resemble his father? His dad quickly rounded the car, greeting his son with a hug before taking his wife’s hand into his. He had a kind smile too, you noticed. Of course, he did.

Jungkook had to have said something particularly funny because both his parents erupted into laughter. You looked away, closing your eyes. 

What were you doing here?

The question blared louder than ever before. Could you really do this? Fool everyone? Yourself too? The answer was obvious to you as you looked ahead. A part of you wished you had come to that conclusion before you had gotten into the car. You didn’t know your way around this neighbourhood (of course, not), but you knew you had to get away from here either way.

You stepped out of the car, quietly shutting the door. He couldn’t see, couldn’t know. You had to get away, now.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Kook?” 

His father’s voice made you pause. Jungkook sounded so much like him.

“In the car. She’s sleeping.”

“Are you not gonna wake her up? At least, let her come inside and sleep inside. It’s so cold.”

“No, I was gonna, but then I saw you and dad pull up,” Jungkook explained, his voice carried to you through the wind. His car offered you enough coverage to hide and at the same time allowed a clear view of Jungkook and his parents. “Also, I was gonna get her another pair of shoes. She’s wearing heels.”

His mother gasped. “In this weather? Does she at least have stockings on?” When he shook his head, she gasped again. “No, that’s not good. You better get her another pair of shoes. She’s gonna freeze!”

“I know- ah, I turned off the heat!” Jungkook touched his forehead as if to say how stupid of him. 

You pressed your lips together, teeth sinking into your tongue. The guilt clawed up your throat, raw and red. It hurt, so much so that you didn’t even feel the cold wind on your feet and up your legs, or the way they ached from the unnatural arch the heels forced them into. 

“Go get your girlfriend some shoes,” Jungkook’s father told him. “I’ll get the groceries-”

“What? No, let me, dad. I can do both. I’ll be quick.”

“It’s fine, Kook. We don’t want your girlfriend freezing.” His mother placed her hand on his shoulder. But like the good son he was, he wasn’t having it, already moving to open the trunk.

“It’s okay. I turned off the car just now, and she’s been sleeping peacefully this entire time. I’ll be quick,” Jungkook insisted. “You guys get inside.”

His parents looked at him with a sigh, realising defeat. Jungkook’s father handed him the car keys.

“Well, you better be quick. You know we can’t wait to meet Y/N.”

And with that, they walked inside, hand in hand. Your heart shattered, your name rolling so easily off their lips. It was so odd to hear them say it, hear with how much kindness they did. 

You should just go now, take this opportunity to run, but your feet remained cemented, your eyes following Jungkook as he brought the first two bags up to the front door before grabbing the last two out of the car. Moving his foot underneath the sensor, the trunk closed automatically. You knew nothing about cars but you knew that such a feature didn’t come with most, and was definitely not cheap either.

Right now, looking ahead of you, you could see for the first time clearly just how different Jungkook and you were. There were two different worlds between you, a distance that no one could cross, no less a relationship that wasn’t genuine to begin with. It had been nice and fun, foolishly nice and fun, to pretend all this time, but in the end it had been foolish more than anything. 

Why you didn’t move still remained a mystery to you. Maybe your feet had really frozen to the sidewalk, the heels one of your worst ideas yet, or maybe you simply couldn’t do it, bring it over your heart to just walk away. Maybe you just needed a little more, of him and you. You knew these few seconds would be the last ones of peace before it would all crumble. The illusion would shatter. He and you would be done, forever. There would be no more hangouts together with all your friends, no more cookies and Avatar marathons, no more kisses and hugs. 

Jungkook and you would dissolve, just as quickly as it had all begun in that library with a notebook and pen. 

Jungkook was about to turn around and close the door and he’d see you, standing there on the sidewalk with your eyes set straight on him. He’d see you and he’d smile and put down the bags and walk over to you and ask you why you were standing there and why did you get out of the car and how cold it was. How stupid and silly of you! 

He’d come over and bring you into a hug and his lips would ghost over the crown of your head and you’d cave and melt and you’d go in and meet his family and it’d hurt so much to tell Jungkook’s parents what your parents did when they’d inevitably ask you because of course they would and you’d have to see as they realised that your parents didn’t get to enjoy higher education. They’d be silent for a few seconds before nodding and smiling. They’d quickly change the topic because it was better to talk about something else and oh I heard something so interesting on the news recently, did you hear?

But you didn’t move, even as Jungkook turned, arms heavy with grocery bags, and lifted his head, eyes meeting yours as you predicted he would. His lips lifted up into a smile, a smile bigger than you’d expected. He didn’t move though. Instead he blurred into a heap of colours.

You could no longer do this.

The image of him cleared as the first tears fell, and you watched as his face crumbled while he watched your chest heave up and down, sobs pushing out from your throat. 

Jungkook let go of the grocery bags, the contents spilling out. When he took his step towards you, you did too, away from him. He stilled, frozen. Why, you could see it on his face. Why were you crying? Why were you moving away from him? He deserved answers, an explanation, but the most you could muster up right now was the shake of your head.

No.

And then you took off. 

“Y/N!” 

You pressed your hand to your lips, scared of filling the street with your gut wrenching sobs. Tears kept streaming down your face, hot and heavy. 

You did feel sorry for doing this to Jungkook. But you had to. Because he wasn’t going to. It had to be you. You who finally saw the truth in the eye that this was ridiculous, that this had gone off the rails, that Jungkook and you should have never gotten to this point, to where you found comfort in his arms and he knew your favourite cookies and you showed him your home and he knew more than he should about you. To the point where you had shared the bed together and knew the softness of the other’s lips. To the point where you had irrevocably and undeniably and unfortunately fallen for Jungkook.

You were in love with Jeon Jungkook, and it was the worst thing you could have done to yourself-

“Y/N!”

And it was affirmed when he seized your elbow and turned you around. You didn’t make it very far. Your eyes locked with his, and you could see it in them. How this was going to end. How this had to end, now. 

You were reminded of when you ran out on Jaehwa after seeing him for the first time again. It was what you always did, you realised. Run. 

You just never expected you’d have to run out on Jungkook too.

His eyes, wide and big, searched your face, for something to give him a clue as to what was going on in the head of yours, anything. He didn’t understand. 

You pulled away from him as if his touch burned you, pushed him away.

“Why? What’s wrong?” he asked, frantic, reaching out for you again, but you couldn’t let him touch you, tumbling backwards. Hurt flashed across his features, but this was for the best. Why did you have to be this dramatic? How stupid of you!

“I-I can’t,” you stuttered, shaking your head, dragging your coat sleeve frantically on your cheeks. “I-I just can’t.”

Jungkook stared at you, face twisting and morphing into emotions you couldn’t decipher. You had never really understood him anyway.

“O-okay, hey, that’s fine.”

Who would have thought this would hurt so much to hear?

“That’s alright.”

He should be furious, absolutely and utterly mad with you. You had just run away. If he hadn’t caught you, he would have had to somehow explain to his parents why his so-called perfect girlfriend was suddenly gone. And yet, he met you with empathy and kindness. Jungkook was so good, so precious. He was so much better than you, deserved more. 

“I’ll give you a ride home-”

“No!” you screamed, lungs heaving for air, chest rising and falling dramatically. You shook your head, repeated it again, quieter this time. “No, you don’t understand.”

Jungkook stared at you, mouth opening and closing. “Okay, then explain. But let’s do this in the car-”

“Why are you like this?” You threw the question at his head, venomous and bitter. The anger wasn’t fair, shouldn’t be aimed at him at all. What had he done to deserve it? And yet, you couldn’t find it in you to shift the target. “What are we doing?”

His brows knitted together, the knit deepening. “I-I don’t know what you mean.” You looked at him as if he should. “Can we get to the car first, cabbage-”

You flinched. How could he still call you that? 

“This is so stupid,” you scoffed, shaking your head, eyes looking at everything but him. The cold wind blew your tears away, and your cheeks felt raw from all of the rubbing and dragging. “I- this is so wrong on so many levels. Why am I even here? What are we even doing? Why are you like this?”

“You don’t want to meet my parents, that’s fine. I really think we should get to the car-”

“Why? Because you don’t want your neighbours and parents to see what crazy person you’ve brought home?”

“What? No! Who said that? I wanna get to the car because it’s freezing cold and you only have a coat and heels on-”

“Oh, please, Jeon!” The laugh slipping from your lips made Jungkook flinch. It was so mean, filled with so much spite. “Don’t pretend to be good. What a cheap and pathetic act!”

None of the words you spoke were truthful. You didn’t know where you pulled them from, you didn’t believe any of them. All of them were hollow and mean. But maybe they’d be enough though to bring out anger within Jungkook, make him come to the same realisation as you had—that he and you had to end. But knowing him, he’d meet you with empathy and kindness over and over again. 

He had to hate you. 

You had to make him hate you. Otherwise, this would never find an end. Otherwise, he’d convince you of the opposite, and you’d never be able to let go of him. Otherwise, you’d lose yourself completely to him.

And when you looked at Jungkook, you knew you were right. Because there was no no fire in his eyes, nothing. He still stared at you the same way he used to. Even after you had called him names. Hating you was the only option.

“I really think we should just talk this out another time.”

Defeat, you realised, contorted his features. Not anger. Not spite. None of it. Just defeat. You closed your eyes, shaking your head.

“You’re clearly not in the best of moods and saying stuff that you don’t mean. I don't know what’s going on, but let me just give you a ride home and we’ll figure this out another-”

“Figure out what?” You leaned forward, gestured wildly around yourself. “We? Oh, please, Jeon, there’s no fucking ‘we’. Don’t make me laugh!”

He shook his head, hands running through his hair. 

“I really don’t think you mean any of this, Y/N. I know this entire situation must be bringing up bad memories for you- I know Jaehwa hurt you-”

“What? This has nothing to do with him,” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes, the words pushing through your clenched teeth like a bullet out of a gun. “What do you know, Jeon? What do you really know, huh? Actually, how can you know anything? You with your perfect stupid fucking family with a house oh so big because you just had to show everybody how you were better and richer and greater. What do you know about anything, really?”

You weren’t making sense, but you could see a change in Jungkook’s face, the flicker in his eyes as you mentioned his family. Bullseye.

“Miss me with that bullshit. You’re the kind of people I hate. It’s all so fake and condescending- fuck, you’re so stupidly loaded you’re paying me to pretend to date you so you can win a stupid shitty bet with Taehyung. Your parents must be so proud of their great great son.”

He closed his eyes, screwed them so tightly shut in hopes that maybe if he did so long enough, this would turn out to be a bad dream. This wasn’t happening. Things weren’t falling apart like that. They couldn’t. His hands curled into fists.

“Now you can’t even look at me, Jeon?” you sneered, voice and words growing more and more vicious. “Can’t face the truth, right? You pretend to be so good, so kind. But for fuck’s sake, look at the house you grew up in! Look at where I live! You’re the same as Jaehwa- actually, no because at the very least, he didn’t pretend like he and I weren’t different. You should have some shame, but I guess with parents-”

“Y/N!”

Your name cut through the air, and for once, you stopped and breathed. Jungkook had peeled his eyes open again, teeth gritted, jaw pulled taunt, hands curled into tight fists. 

“I really think it’d be better if you stopped talking now.”

And yet, it wasn’t the response you wanted.

You could have cried then, bawled, fallen to your knees and just admitted to it all. How much you did love him and how much you wanted him, but couldn’t have him because this just wasn’t going to work because he never really did love you and neither would his parents. He and you were doomed, like the moon and the sun. He just would never see it, too idealistic for his own good. Your blatant and devastating flaws. You weren’t good or kind. You had to be the one to pull the plug, to call this what it was—wrong.

“Yeah, of course, you’d say that,” you mumbled, the tip of your shoes digging into the concrete, rolling back and forth. The scratching sound it produced soothed you oddly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You know what I mean. You rich people just can’t ever face the truth-”

“No, you idiot!” 

His voice echoed through the empty street, loud and clear. Anger and disdain coloured his words, features twisting and knits deepening. There it was, finally. The anger and upset you had waited and waited for, the blow of the bomb, the finale. 

“I think you should stop talking because I love you and I don’t want my heart broken any further!”

Jungkook was so loud. You had never heard him so loud before, yell like that, tell you so abundantly clear that he loved you. It was the declaration of declarations, blaring and grand. You had wanted to hear it, needed to hear it all this time, all this week—that he loved you—and now when you finally did, it was truly the worst thing anyone had ever told you ever. Because it was everything you wished for, but you couldn’t have it, none of it. It wasn’t real, and even if it was, even if he meant it and he loved you, you couldn’t be with him. The truth didn’t matter. You were too damaged, too broken, too fucked up to never not doubt Jungkook, not to fear that he’d leave at any point. 

You’d never trust him.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you!” He pointed at you, face scrunched and eyes red, tears welling. “I thought we had gotten past this- isn’t it obvious that I do really love-”

“Oh, please. You goddamn liar!” Your voice shook, broke in your throat and mouth, head spinning. You were losing Jungkook, spectacularly so. “What do you know about love? This is an act, Jeon! You’re not in love with me! You’re in love with an act! You’re in love with the idea of winning your stupid bet with-”

“No, no-”

“Yes, Jeon, you don’t know shit. You pretend like you do- think you do when in reality, you don’t know anything about me. Who am I if not just a pawn in your game? Someone you paid, so you could boast and brag that you didn’t get rejected, huh?”

Jungkook licked his lips, veins bulging in his neck as he tried his very best to not go too far, implode on you, hands digging into the roots of his hair. “No, that’s not true. The bet between Tae and me—”

“Actually, you know what? I don’t even care. Because all of it is wrong. It’s not what we agreed upon-”

“Okay, yeah, so we weren’t supposed to kiss and spend time together privately, or sleep with each other and talk on the phone for hours. But look at us now!” He pointed between him and you, as if there was something between you. “We did it all, okay? And? Was it so bad?”

His eyes fixed yours, so deeply. He took a step towards you, and you didn’t back away, couldn’t.

“You call me a liar when I tell you I love you—” His voice shook, trembled terribly, and you could see Jungkook fight to find the right words, struggle to speak. It pained you to know it was all because of you. How easy would it be to take it all back? Admit fault and go back? But would it be right? “—but tell me then, why are you looking at me like that?”

You tried a laugh. A laugh that was meant to dismiss it all, deny the truth, but it sounded hollow and wrong. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes, beginning to crumble. And Jungkook saw right through you.

“Look at me and tell me you don’t feel something!” 

You closed your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. The world began to spin faster and faster, and you felt like you were losing the ground underneath yourself.

“You’re not being fair,” you whispered, shaking your head. You were speaking much quieter now, your voice having lost all of its bite and edge. This had been harder than you expected. “You’re breaking the contract-”

“Oh my God, will you forget about that? Both of us broke it a long time ago, willingly! Can you please just forget about all of it—the contract, the bet—and look at the facts?”

Jungkook was begging at this point. Would you come to your senses?

“Do you really genuinely think that the past weeks- months didn’t mean anything to me? That it was really all just pretend? That I lied about all of it? That I’m really such a big asshole that I’d pretend to be in love with you this entire time, call you daily, buy you your favourite cookies, hold your hand and kiss you and tell you—” This seemed to drain Jungkook of everything, voice trembling as he presented the worst version of himself to you. “—over and over again that I love you?”

He leaned forward, searched for your eyes. 

It was right in front of you—a white flag up in the air, for you to grab and hiss. You could do it now, he’d forgive you, you were certain of that. Jungkook was still kind enough to do so, his heart ready to let you back in. You wouldn’t even need to say anything, just falling into his arms would suffice. It’d be so easy. Simple, in fact. He’d let you do it, take your silent defeat as an apology. You’d never have to talk about it ever again. It was tempting, slip back into what you were before as if you weren’t aware that he and you were two parallel lines never meant to cross. Jungkook would never be tempted to take this way out, he’d stand straight for what he’d said, repent. The thought to take the easy way out would never cross his mind. It did yours.

“Y-yeah, I do.”

Jungkook shook his head, mouth set in a line.

“You don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do-”

“Y/N, no, no, you-”

“Stop,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Stop insisting that I don’t mean it. I do. I-”

It was so ironic. It felt like the entire universe was mocking you, laughing at the two of you. This was what  Jungkook had wished for him and you, imagined how beautiful it would be, how you’d sit together in front of the window and watch before he’d suggest to go outside and you’d follow happily. You’d dance and play until neither of you could feel your hands and your cheeks were rough and raw from the cold wind. You’d yearn for the warm, shiver as you stepped inside, but you’d be happy. So very happy. But now it felt like a stab to your hearts instead. 

The first few snowflakes softly landed on your sleeve. It was so beautiful. The entire street would be white in a few hours, kids would come out to play soon.

“I’ll pay you back.” You took a step back, rubbed away the tears that wanted to spill. “See it as compensation for… not meeting your parents.”

Jungkook couldn’t respond, teeth sinking into his tongue, biting on the muscle until it hurt too much. 

“That’s not- that’s not the point. I don’t care for the money, I just-” He deflated. “Just-just meet them, Y/N. Give them a chance, please. You’ll realise- they’re gonna love-”

He stopped when you shrunk in on yourself, vehemently shaking your head. Neither of you said anything, just allowing the snow to fall around you and cover you in white. You’d be shivering in just a few minutes, hair and skin wet, feet shaky on the cold ground. 

Jungkook looked down, hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped. 

“Okay.”

You stood there as you waited for him to turn his back to you and walk away, waited and waited to be finally alone. He’d do it and you’d be alone and you’d be proven right, vindicated. Relief would flood you, knowing you had seen it coming, had always known correctly, protected you, at least, this time of hurt and-

The keys looked cold to the touch.

“Take them. Wait in the car. Call Chae or whoever to come pick you up. You can leave the keys in the car. I’ll get them later.”

Jungkook was ordering you, telling you what to do. And though he spoke with finality, allowing no room for you to disagree, his voice trembled and shook. You didn’t have to look to know the tears staining his cheeks, to know how much you had hurt him, realise that in your quest to do the best for both him and you because he deserved better and not be hurt and left in the end, you had done just that to Jungkook, plunged the knife into his heart and pushed it further even as he spat out blood. 

“It’s fine, I can-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Jungkook grabbed your hand and placed the keys into your palm, forcing your fingers shut around them with his own. His touch sent sparks through your body. It’d be the last time he’d ever touch you, you realised, and before you could stop it, the tears spilt. But you didn’t let out a noise, kept your head low and eyes even lower. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

Jungkook hesitated before letting go, his feet dragging as he walked away.

Maybe it was you holding the gun, not Jungkook.

→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!

[neteyamsilly]

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 2

summary ;; Your burning determination to prove your father wrong and Jake's wish to teach you a lesson both end up in a pyrrhic victory. PART 1 | PART 3 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; im speechlessly overwhelmed at the sheer amount of love you guys showed me these past couple of days. like. literally never had something like this happen to me before. i got too excited to finish this chapter to give back to yall, there was an attempt to proofread but... i hope it's not too bad, please enjoy! as always, if you see any mistakes, im sorry!

The path further into the floating mountains was all the worse to navigate thanks to the lack of light, the only useful guides you had were the faintly flickering bioluminescent lights from the forest deep below. The branches twisting around each other to create a naturally built bridge from mountain to mountain benefited from this, contrasting as a clear obscured line to your eyes against the glow underneath. 

The easiest part of your journey, in hindsight, was just skipping along this line. 

You weren’t exactly happy about this.  

The more you left behind, the more you were freaked out that Neteyam or anyone else was onto your intentions already and hot on your trail right this moment. Imagining father making a beeline to you in the air with Bob, a cruel, merciless whistling arrow, made you all jittery and almost puking kind of nervous, pulling at the depths of your stomach. 

Your rationality told you that it was a half an hour walk to your spot from the tent, and Neteyam would be hurrying the more he thought he wasn’t able to catch up with you along the way, so you had around twenty minutes until the whole family was panicking and raising the clan to look for you. 

Tuk had gone missing once thanks to some hide and seek game with Lo’ak (she’d hidden so well and was waiting for her siblings to find her already, blindly sticking to the game for an entire day, not out of stubbornness but childish purity), and this was exactly what had gone down —

the resentful part of you questioned if father thinks of you highly enough to resort to that. 

If something happened to you, he would maybe urge your brothers to search for you for a while, and drop it then — leaving you to your own devices happily. 

Maybe. 

Were you even worth it in his eyes for a search party? You wondered if he cared enough that you disappeared. 

But that was a stupid, childish thought you knew you fantasized about a lot — perhaps this was why he’d called you immature. This was no mindset for a strong, independent, confident hunter. The thought father was right, even a miniscule bit was bitter on your tongue, worse than what he called black coffee. 

Disappearing so you’d find out just how much he cared was unfair to mom, for one. 

She had lost so much in such a short amount of time, the stories she sang poignantly about were hard to listen to without tearing up. Her home. The trees of voices, all the lost ancestors. Her father. Uncle Tsu’tey. Her first ikran, Seze. Loss upon loss you think there’d be nothing left to give anymore, but sky people’s fire was always hungry, always willing to waste more to grow bigger. 

You wouldn’t forgive yourself for making her cry in your pursuit to punish father. Never. 

You weren’t a child.

Just wanted to be one, sometimes.

Wanted father to babytalk you, pet your head longer than a passing touch as he walked away hurriedly to attend to other matters, make beads for your braids the way he always did from pretty stones he found on ponds, carve you little trinkets when you graciously had to give up your toys to Lo’ak and Kiri’s greed. 

Your neck piece was all them in fact, he’d see it if he ever paid enough attention, or perhaps it was all insignificant to him, five kids meant countless belongings for each individual child had been passed down from his hands, it would be a miracle for father to recognize you still wore his clumsy creations. But again, it had been too long since he’d even looked at you affectionately, he wouldn’t See. 

He’d transferred those habits entirely to Neteyam at one point in time. 

Your older brother would always ruffle Lo’ak’s hair and tease him the way father used to, comfort him in his own playful way, and even though the younger looked discontent at being babied, you knew he was happy Neteyam was quite literally his shadow to look after him through tough times — including shielding from father’s line of fire. In return, he was suffering from being a foil to the older son, you understood the struggle because you were going through the same comparison, you just weren’t obsessed with catching and living up to father as much as Lo’ak did. 

Win some, lose some, I guess.

Plus, Neteyam was trembling under the massive planet-weight pressure, he had to set the standard, he had to live up to the older brother title. He was becoming more of a father figure to Tuk as days passed and the Olo’eyktan became more transparent from his family’s life as a dad to five. 

Besides, Lo’ak made trouble enough for two people to go around that you felt bad for your big brother, Kiri was thankfully more mellow (despite frequently hanging out together with him and Spider) compared to him that Neteyam could breathe, not having to divide his attention. 

You were in awe of her about how disconnected she was from all the changing dynamics. She had her own problems you could never understand, more spiritual than your grandmother, and ever the ethereal soul who you thought would disappear into Eywa if flesh wasn’t holding her down to Eywa’eveng.

You were the teeniest, tiniest bit jealous of her (and Tuk) holding the softer sides of father, the boys thought he was deliberately softer because they were girls — but you were also a girl, so why weren’t you allowed in?   

Well, thanks to that, you’d gotten closer with Neteyam and known him better after the whole clan had settled on High Camp, so it wasn’t all that bad. You could badmouth father all day long sitting on some rock and make him laugh abashedly, guilty that he was smiling along with the trashing of the father’s name he respected so much — it was therapy, as Norm had taught humans frequently sought back on earth. It got you trying some things with Neteyam, becoming more of a companion and ranting buddy for him who he could be honest and open with, so that he didn’t have to worry about taking up a larger role in your life to fill father’s missing presence. You were concerned about him more than he could be concerned about you. 

That got you contemplating if father had noticed how comfortable his two oldest children were with each other that it was always Neteyam who he sent after you. A girl could dream, no? For one moment, it wasn’t because it was Neteyam’s responsibility, but because father was paying attention to how his kids got along.

The image of him pushed you to be frantically fast to reach your destination as the fear returned with might. If he caught you right now when you had no ikran to prove him wrong, the punishment he was sure to give would be way more humiliating, you at least wanted something in your name to taunt him with if you were going down anyways. 

A smile crept up your face at imagining him discombobulated and speechless, unable to pick out one thing that you did wrong. 

The carelessness that came with your speed combined with how dark it was to see where to clutch and put your feet on caused you to slip up countless times when climbing, the sharp rocks scraping the insides of your palms and insides of your forearms, lifting your skin up. What you cared about more than the pain was that the blood was now tracking material for your family to sniff you out — you couldn’t exactly wipe the rocks clean, so you carried on with a hammering heart, more afraid of father ruining your perfect moment than whatever ikran that would soon be going straight for your throat. 

At least you were able to wash the blood off your hands in the waterfall. 

Downside? You couldn’t see shit. With your bare back flushed straight to the wall of rock and your feet feeling out the thin edge, the shrill cry of ikrans and the roaring of water was about to overwhelm your senses too much to pay attention — 

and you slipped. 

The shriek that ripped out of you at the sensation of falling and the drop of your stomach alone almost made you pass out, and for a split second it was a good thing that you wouldn’t feel the moment you died, but your body, once again, was one step ahead of you, it twisted in the air the last second and your hands gripped the ledge. 

The wet rock and your blood made all that your life was hanging on slippery as you dangled into the abyss, swaying with the strong winds at this height. 

You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline or the nervousness, but something made you laugh out loud, and the bubbling laughter continued until you were able to pull yourself up safely at the ikran rookery, finally. 

Looking around like a fish out of water, how you hadn’t cracked your skull open shooting down to the forest below was a total miracle. 

You’d made it?  

No one was there to witness what you just pulled off in total darkness. Your whole body was shaking, and you weren’t even chosen by an ikran yet. This was happening. Shit. This was totally happening! 

Your excited and terrified, “Hell yeah!” went unheard apart from your aerial crowd. 

But. 

One among them answered your holler with its own that cut into the night like a battle horn. It was the closest one to you that was apparently watching you the whole time, starting to roar at you and twitching on its feet, shadow in the night informing you of its movements.

You’d seen from Neteyam and Lo’ak’s iknimayas that you only had a few seconds to pull your shit together until it attacked, this was meant to be dangerous, serious, you could end up as a late night snack to them if things went wrong, but you couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear that it had chosen you.

You were chosen. 

It wanted you as its rider. 

If only father could see you now. The sensation of being the one — being special was unmatched. Now you could somehow get the fraction of the high he must have felt as Toruk Makto.  

The, “Let’s fucking go!” that left you kept echoing into the night as you lunged at it, dodging to the left when it snapped at your head, hooking one arm around the ikran’s slender neck and clamping your legs around it the moment it started thrashing around wildly. 

You didn’t know why father had made a big deal out of it. You formed tsaheylu in no time, breaking Neteyam’s record — and you didn’t even have the rope to hoop around its neck and jaw. 

Firstborn daughter excellence. 

Confidence restored and triumphing wildly to the pulse of your heart, the flickering smile on your face in wonder turned into a full-fledged smirk. At that moment, nothing mattered. It was just you and your victory. Proving father wrong. 

Feeling the ikran’s lifeforce through the bond, a shiver went down your back as his beady eye looked up at you, pupil shrinking and expanding rapidly while you both took a minute to catch your breaths after the fierce wrestling. 

“Gotcha,” you panted. “You’re mine now.”

The adrenaline made everything sparkle and shine, your spirits soaring high and unbothered about literally anything else in the world, and for one glorious moment, lost in the memories of your brothers’ iknimayas boasting with cheers from the clan and sometimes encouraging, sometimes fearful screams of your parents, your spirit sought them out to be soaked in the same pride — forgetting that it was night and nobody was there to celebrate you. 

You were all alone. 

The smile dropped from your face and crashed down like paper thin porcelain upon the slightest movement. 

Right. 

You’d forgotten you were doing this out of spite. It snuffed every twinkle of magic away from the previously shimmering milestone of your life. 

Your ikran felt the crushing disappointment through your connection and chirped at you, almost like an excited sibling pulling on your arm to show you something, weirdly comforting. Mom’s ikran was a spitfire, but also nurturing — this one felt different somehow, you felt him bouncing from wall to wall in your head, hyperactive and cheerful.

Flying! He wanted to fly! 

The first flight sealed the bond, after all. 

You weren’t alone even if none of your family members were here to share the joy — you had your new buddy. And the drop of gravity was thrilling this time, not the terrifying chaos that had your asshole shriveling up as it was when you’d missed your step. 

The flights with mom were something you looked forward to, drying up in frequency as you aged, you’d missed the wind on your body and the greenery dancing below as you maneuvered in the air — but mom reserved nighttime rides for father only, and after the move to High Camp, the skimpering chance you could get your way if you begged cutely enough was gone too. You’d never flown at night. 

The sight was out of this world. The stars leaving a glowing trail above you, the forest pulsing with faint purple, green and blue lights underneath, everything was elevated in beauty because darkness let them shine. 

You made loops in the air with your ikran, got as high in the air as you could before your breath thinned, and scraped at the tips of trees before shooting up again, all the while laughter you’ve never screamed before bubbled out of you. 

And you were all alone. There was no mom to gleefully taunt your ikran with hers to get both of you dancing in the air. There was no father to watch on with a small smile he was fighting. There was no Neteyam to stop you from dipping too close to the ground, and no Lo’ak to challenge you to get closer to race with him — no Kiri to complain how all of you were being so childish, how stupid this was all the while she was the worst of you all, instigating all the chaos. 

No Tuk in your mom’s lap whining about you guys leaving her off the fun. 

Instead, there was the scent of a bogey in the air, snapping you out of the haze of sorrow.

When had you ventured out further into unprotected territory? 

Linked with your thought process, the ikran stopped advancing forward and started beating his wings downward to stay unmoving, you observed the surroundings to get a better feeling of where you were, and noticed this was around the old shack, artificial lights were gliding between the leaves and branches that obscured your view of just who was roaming the grounds at night, definitely not a natural part of the forest’s flora.    

Father’s voice materialized in your head, drilled into you and your siblings’ heads over and over again. If you come across any threat at all, do not engage, fall back and inform me. Got it? You call for me first.

And that split second of being afraid was your death sentence — that father would be so angry at you for your ignorance, amateurism, carelessness and idiocy that he could throw you out of the family for almost leading the demons to base simply by being there that they could figure out what direction you’d come from. That moment of weakness was enough for someone to snipe you out, and get you falling down from your ikran straight into the forest below, the cries of your new friend falling silent on your ears as you did your best to hug giant leaves to cushion your fall to the best of your ability. . 

 Barely any time was left for you to shake the disorienting motion sickness off, you couldn’t even attempt to run into the accepting, protective hands of the forest before whoever just shot at you was onto you, harshly gripping your arms and raising you up. 

Father’s gonna be so mad if he finds out. Shit, I gotta get out of this. 

But… Avatars? In full camo, armored, even. You hadn’t heard of this from anybody in camp!

“Damn! Didn’t actually think you’d be able to land the shot from all of that tree, man! Up-top!”

Two of them high-fived, you were actually going to be sick. 

Thumb between his belt and stomach, another Avatar strutted towards you. The saunter and confidence meant that he was their leader. “Now, now… What do we have here?”

“A native.” You were being pushed down on your knees, one hand being grabbed and shown like a trophy. Just how many were there? You couldn't calm yourself enough to focus! “Four fingers.”

The speaker this time was a woman. “How unusual. Those monkeys don’t leave their coven at night.” 

“Where were you flying, little bird?” The leader, a sleazy smirk on his face, leaned down to take a good look at you. “Leading away from the nest, perhaps?”

“She don’t understand, Colonel, don’t bother. Ya think Sully could ever manage teaching one word of English to those?”

“Watch how she learns in three seconds.” He yanked on your queue so hard you saw white light in this hour of darkness — and when your vision came back, a screen with your father’s face was being shoved to your face. “Jake Sully. Toruc Mactoe. Where is he?”

You screamed when he pulled with increasing strength, keeping up with the act you didn’t understand. And the state of pain and terror massively helped, contributing to you looking frantic and lost, only knowing that you were being zapped to your core. 

“Seems like I don’t need to ask you.” His fingers snapped your head back to get a good look at your earpiece, late to notice you had it on at all because of the dark. “Can directly ask the man himself.” 

All you could form to think was, ‘Father’s gonna kill me for this. He’s actually gonna kill me this time.’

You weren't terrified of what the Avatars would do to you. You were afraid of him.

One empty shell from the reloaded machine gun flew away, tinkling hollow when it fell down, and rolled until it stopped in a small pool of water that had formed on the jagged ground of the cave systems. In the scarlet and orange glow of the campfire he’d haphazardly put together right outside of their home out of impatience after Neytiri had basically thrown him out, Jake almost mistook the liquid for blood. 

An ominous cloud of dread settled on his shoulders, a paranoia every father tended to go through.

“Big Brother, this is Devil Dog. State your status, over.”

Neteyam didn’t miss a beat to answer, thankfully. “Devil Dog, this is Big Brother. I’m still en route to Foxcove, over.”

“How much longer?”

“Ten minutes at best, sir. Over.”

What he wanted to say was how come he hadn’t met you halfway, but it was empty talk. No need to stress the boy out. “Devil Dog signing out.”

This girl was half the reason for the wrinkles on his forehead, Jesus Christ. He was basically waiting you out like a father sitting in the dark to ambush his daughter who had snuck out at night, for that single glorious moment of yeah that’s right, you got caught, after the light would come on to ruin that moment of relief of successfully making it back in. 

His mate had scolded him to be nice and understanding, a Marine was anything but, the closest he could compromise was not being as mean to you than he had to be. Sassing, “So how was your Iknimaya?” like he planned was out the window — Neytiri was spot-on to say the girl would simply give the same mean energy right back at him, and that could only mean another erupting volcano of a fight and a good night’s sleep ruined for him, overthinking where he went wrong and how else he could have salvaged the situation. 

He’d just make you tend to the ikrans for a week for some patience practice, cleaning shit for hours on a daily basis would certainly throw the temporary whim of the rite of passage hyperfixation out of your system. The possibility of you shouting you hated him was unavoidable, but Jake had to get his point across, no matter how terribly it nauseated him to hear something like that from his child. 

It was strange to remember he couldn’t care less for what people thought of him in the past. Some shithead he wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about hated Jake’s guts? Good. He was living in their head rent free, it was fun even — Neytiri too, Jake absolutely enjoyed her hating game at first. 

Being legitimately resented by his very own child, though, was a heartbreak he didn’t expect to hurt him the way it did, knocking air off his lungs the first time he heard it. A burning stab right in his heart that wouldn’t go away until he had to hear it for himself you hadn’t meant any of what you said.

Because that said hate actually stemmed from hurt Jake must have inflicted. Because you could actually despise him, and never allow him to reconnect with you again if he could ever manage to garner the courage to reach out to you — a mightier challenge than hunting Toruk in the sense it actually scared him.   

His teenage daughter. Scared him. 

Jake didn’t know what to do about it, he couldn’t even show what exactly this made him feel, too ashamed and proud for it in the first place. 

The growing distance between you and him was an uneasy, frightened bird he tried to shush and calm in his heart in favor of other pressing matters that drilled small holes in the depths of his stomach, and over time, those little holes had fused together to create one big pit with greater gravitational pull than the sun — until Jake didn’t know how to stitch them back together anymore. 

He told himself he would talk to you later, for sure. The morning after every argument, every fight, every jab from you he snapped at he would try to make amends for, definitely. 

And then he didn’t. 

“What is this, are you palulukan ambushing prey? I told you to make up with her, not prepare for hunting.”

Jake shook his head, dropping the machine gun back inside the crate. The warmed metal was some sort of consolation to his nerves. Marine habit. Always felt safer with a gun near. (Or was it the American in him?) “Neytiri,” he acknowledged, bobbing his head. “I’m just passing time.”

“What do you think will happen when she comes back and sees you waiting for her like this?”

Ah, like the old times when Jake couldn’t do one thing right in her eyes. “Yes, ma’am,” he said playfully, but with no mirth behind it, closing the crate with a muffled thunk. With nothing to do with them, one elbow went to his knee and the other hand’s fingers started a rhythm on the lid he’d just shut. 

His mate’s hand gingerly came down on his shoulder, kneading the nerves. “Just talk to her, Ma’Jake.”

“I don’t know how to,” he admitted, he covered her fingers on her shoulder with his, and she immediately held his hand back. “Don’t know what to even tell her.” He gave an exhale from the deeper, tired parts of his soul, gazing at the path leading away from their tent. “With Neteyam and Lo’ak, it’s easy. I tell ‘em what to do and they—”

Neytiri took a seat next to him, gathering their hands together. “Suffer just the same.” Jake was about to brush her off, but she didn’t relent. “What you’re doing is hurting them.”

This now was about all of their children rather than you, specifically. Neytiri was trying to get him to see the bigger picture first before moving to cover what he did wrong with each child of his, they had had this conversation countless times before. 

Here we go again, Jake thought.

“Doesn’t matter if that’s what it takes to keep them safe.”

“Does it?” Neytiri leaned in, and calmness washed over him despite the disturbing nature of what she was saying. “Does it keep them safe? Or push them to act out more, get in worse situations?”

He grimaced. “I have to—”

“You feel like you have to.” His mate shook their clasped hands, rattling his bones. “I keep my children safe with trust and honesty. Transparence, Ma’Jake. So that they listen to me when I mean it because they See me. You shut them out.” Her lips bared to show her pearly teeth as she was practically beseeching him. “You don’t get your children’s trust by treating them like a squad.”

“They trust me plenty.”

“They trust Olo’eyktan. Toruk Makto. What about their father?”

“I make sure they’re safe.” Neytiri dropped his hands with an agitated snarl, she thought they were back at the beginning again, he couldn’t make her truly understand no matter what he did. He poured his heart out through their tsaheylu everytime, but her values and beliefs were wired so differently from his at the end of the day. “I make sure they stay where I want them to stay for their own good.” Jake shook his head, his voice soft, hushed. No force behind it when Neytiri was heated in return. “One day they’ll understand.”

“They won’t if you never tell them.”

“Tell them what?” Jake asked. “That I’m being harsh on them to prepare them for war? You think they’ll take it seriously after this?”

“Na’vi were in war long before you. There will be wars after you. No parent sullied his child’s happiness for the price of becoming a warrior. You still don’t get our ways even after all these years.” 

“The sky people’s way,” Jake emphasized with his arms. “I have to teach them how they think, what they go through, so they know what they’ll be facing, okay? I can’t simply teach them by telling them.”

“You’re deluding yourself, Jake. Contradicting.” Neytiri was gentle in her cruelty, the flickering flames burned less than her amber eyes. “Tuk and Kiri are getting none of this. I know your heart isn’t allowing you. Why can’t you do the same for your other children?”

Because he had gone too far already with the older three. 

Trial and error. 

He couldn’t take back the things he did and say back — and quite honestly? Jake was being pulled from all sides to sit down and rethink his parenting. All he thought anymore was how to protect his family, frequent nightmares of losing his children in gruesome ways were haunting his every step. 

A father protects his children, that’s what gives him meaning. 

Jake had his own desperate ways to do so.  

He opened his mouth to say something back, anything, but was interrupted by the communication line coming on. “Dad.” 

Jake immediately knew something was wrong, body sitting ramrod straight. If the frantic breathing and barely controlled voice wasn’t any indication of it, his eldest’s behavior was. Neteyam didn’t slip up in the codenames like Lo’ak did, dropped all formalities only when he was borderline panicking.  

“Dad. I’m sorry, dad, sir, I can’t find her, dad, I’ve looked everywhere around here, I thought maybe she was hiding underwater, behind rocks—but I can’t, I can’t—.”

“Slow down.” Jake could barely contain his own panic rising from the state his son was in. The boy wasn’t able to see it, but he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in as if Neteyam was right in front of him, and started gesturing with his hand. “Slow down, son.”

“Dad—”

Jake tsk-ed. “Neteyam, slow. Slow.”

Neytiri took his elbow. “What is it?”

He told her to wait with his gaze, and turned his attention back to Neteyam. This could only mean one thing, he was praying to be wrong — needed clarification. “Now tell me calmer. What’s going on?”

“She’s never been here. She never came here in the first place. There’s no sign of her. No trace. I’ve tracked.”

Jake’s instant response was fear. Domineering, ice-cold, cutting fear. Bodily and emotionally both. You were clockwork, similar to him in having unchanging routines and patterns. Angry? Went for a walk. Depressed? No talking to anyone until it passed. Happy? Wanted to go to the forest to spend time with your siblings and always craved sweet fruit. Didn’t want to be around anyone? Hid in the little bioluminescent cove with a pond two little mountains away, always. Always.  

Neytiri sensed this, observing the change of demeanor in him.“Ma’Jake?”

“Okay, son.” He seized back control. One missing child was enough. “Stay right there and don’t move. I’ll contact you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Jake,” Neytiri hissed finally, at the end of her ropes.

“She didn’t go to the cove,” he said, face icy neutral as always, but his eyes showed dizzying concern. Neytiri put a hand on her mouth as Jake wasted no time in changing channels. “Night Owl, this is Devil Dog. Come in.” He couldn’t even wait two seconds before trying again. “Night Owl, what is your status? Where are you?” 

Silence.

The more fear dug deeper into his skin, the more his anger and annoyance soared up, his tail was whipping the air erratically, the finger on the earpiece could send the metal right into his brain with how hard he was pressing on it. “I know you can hear me. This is no time for playing games. You know what you did to your brother? Do you know how panicked he was, not being able to find you—” 

Then Jake remembered what Neytiri advised, he didn’t change strategies because she was right next to him to dig his eyes out, but because his heart was picking up its pace by the second. “Tell me where you are, I’ll leave you alone, I promise, alright? If you’re somewhere open, get to safety, I’m only asking this from you. Or else—”

“Don’t.” Neytiri raised a warning finger at him, voice just above a whisper so they could hear their daughter if she decided to cut in. “Threaten her.”

He couldn’t stop her from snatching the communication device off of him. “Ma’ite, it’s mom. Can you talk to me at least?”

His ears twitched at picking up on you responding, not quite making out the words.  

Jake’s eyes shut close for a long time as his whole eyebrow line migrated upwards, he physically had to get a few steps between him and the earpiece so the obliviating worry that’d almost blinded him wouldn’t cause him to say something he’d greatly regret later. He could feel himself deflating. A migraine could be coming anytime soon.

You wouldn’t even acknowledge his existence but the moment your mother interrupted, you did? Fine. Fine. He didn’t care. Jake could live with it. At least you were alive.

A rippling shudder shook him the moment that thought hit him, an image of you lying dead in a ditch, pale blue, flashing in his mind, he had to run a hand down his face. 

When Jake looked back, irked by the silence, he found Neytiri standing completely stock-still. And all of a sudden, her petrifying glare was on him, ears pinned all the way back, hands gradually starting to tremble. 

“Neytiri?” 

She wordlessly handed him the device, and with a deep frown, Jake put it back in his ear. 

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

And the ground disappeared right under Jake’s feet, plunging him into hell itself.

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul @eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily

[mxstellatayte]

okay this is so vague but a something for lewis based off the song pretty please by dutch melrose ?

I LOVE DUTCH MELROSE OMG I ABSOLUTELY CAN. also this one is dedicated my simply simply lovely bestie and horny ride-or-die (not like that) pookie @vivi-81 who has recently converted to being a lewis hoe <3 love you bestie

this fic is multiple chapters because i couldn't help myself! writing this dynamic is really really fun and i'm going to do my best to finish the fic by 15 september, but here is a teaser of the first chapter and the release schedule/masterlist!

this fic spans literal years. prepare yourselves yall because you're in for a WILD ride lol

teaser (this post): 4 september chapter 1: 8 september (🌻/🥀) chapter 2: 22 september (🌻/🪷) chapter 3: 8 november (🌻/🪷)

teaser below the cut!

the conversation continues easily as the two of you finish your breakfast, then, as you begin to prepare yourself to stand and leave, he stops you. "actually, there's one last thing i wanted to do before we went on camera."

your head tilts in confusion as you set your signature lipstick back in your bag, a deep red balm that you've used since you started working at vogue. it's become your trademark product, and almost everyone in the office knows exactly which one you use. "do i need to be worried, lewis?"

"no, not at all! it's this," he says, and your eyebrows rise in complete and utter shock when he pulls out a small box wrapped in white paper and a crimson bow wrapped around it all. "i wanted to get you a gift as a way of saying thank you for all the curveball questions you've thrown at me this year." your hands shake as you take the box from him, and you already know exactly which brand it is. cartier. sure, you've written pieces about their timeless looks and elegant aesthetics, and owning a piece of their jewelry has always been a dream of yours, but it's always been just that: a dream.

"lewis, i can't accept this. i- i'm honestly at a loss for words. seriously, no." you can't help but flush at how he's looking at you, those annoyingly beautiful eyes of his and the stupidly perfect crow's feet that only show up when he really smiles- when he smiles the way he is now. gods, amelia was right. you really are down bad for the driver.

"please, just open it up. if you don't like it, i'll take it back and you can choose something you prefer." he nudges the box towards you once more, and the crisp wax seal that sits on top of the paper is incredibly enticing.

"are you serious?" a part of you wants to think that this is some sick joke, that there's cameras on you and it's all going up on one of those prank channels on youtube. a much, much bigger part of you believes lewis, though. that is the part of you that takes the box between your shaking hands, carefully pops open the wax seal, nimbly unties the beautiful ribbon, and gently unfolds the pure white paper. when you finally open the box, you gasp, tears threatening to well in your eyes. "lewis..."

"do you like it?" his voice sounds anxious and hopeful, and you can't help but realize how much thought he'd put into this gift. when you'd invited him into your office to review some photos that were to go into an article in the next vogue issue a few months prior, he'd seen the vision board on your wall and asked about it. bashfully, you had explained to him that it was a silly idea you had when you graduated from uni with your friends- each of you made one, cutting and pasting photos from pinterest, magazines, newspapers, and anything you could find, assembling your dreams in a mishmash of colors and ideas. one of your dreams on the board had been to own this exact necklace- the cartier juste un clou necklace in white gold. the fourteen diamonds set in the precious metal glitter back at you, and you can't help but smile.

"i love it, lewis. thank you so much." he visibly relaxes, his shoulders loosening and the crease between his eyebrows disappearing.

"i'm glad. here, turn around. let me put it on you?" you happily oblige, lifting your hair out of the way after you stand so that he can fasten the delicate clasp over your spine.

it's safe to say that both his and your fans noticed the necklace hanging between your collarbones, sitting just below the star necklace you wear daily on top of your dark grey high-collared shirt. you try your best not to look at the comments on the videos of your interviews, but amelia had shown you one that day after the unedited interview went up online.

"are they dating or something? i can't get over how lewis looks at her."

taglist: @pear-1206 @vivi-81

join my taglist here!

[highvern]

Teach Me II

or private tutoring

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Pairing: Lee Dokyeom (Seokmin) x fem!reader

Genre: smut, humor, college au, frat!svt

Warnings: inexperience!dk, experienced!reader, mentions of previous drug use (weed) , oral (m. & f. receiving), cum swallowing, spitting, fingering, making out, strength kink bc he's hot, minor overstim at the end but he's just enthusiastic, fwb, this chapter is pure smut, spreading my DK is a munch agenda

Length: ~3.5k

Note: literally a doozy to write but its done, I have part 3-5 outlined so hopefully they go quicker, lemme know what yall think!

read more here

Tuesday Night Approx. 10:02 PM, DK’s bedroom

Dokyeom has come to the conclusion he’s hallucinating. The hot wet suckle of your mouth against the head of his cock, one hand jerking him in time with the motions of your head while the other gently cups his balls is just too good to be true. The view he’s witnessing is even more proof he’s gone certifiably insane. 

You’re knelt between his spread legs at the edge of the bed, shoulders framed by his knees. At some point Dokyeom fell back on his elbows, granting you as much room as possible to do whatever you want as he stares down his body at you. The rhythmic bobbing of your head hypnotizes him, forcing him to fight demons against the urge to wrap a hand in your hair so he has a better view of your mouth working his cock. He thanks himself for having the foresight to at least ask you to take your top off this time, allowing him the pleasure to view the long muscles along your spine flexing, only obstructed by the band of your bra.

You’re the goddess of his dick and Dokyeom is an avid worshiper.

The first and only time he received head involved too much weed (both of them), teeth (hers), and tears (his) for him to enjoy any of it. It had been so unpleasurable he had avoided doing anything since in fear of repeating the experience. 

You, however, make him regret not finding you on campus sooner. The genuine enthusiasm and enjoyment that radiates off you as you play with him has an orgasm tumbling towards him faster than he wants. When Dokyeom tries to inform you, hoping you’ll find a way to help him hold off, gasping your name and a broken “I’m gonna;” you respond with a delighted hum and work him harder.

“Holy shiii—,” he whines as you give a particularly harsh suck as he slides further in your mouth, tip nudging the back of your throat softly. A moan of your own shooting pleasurable snaps down his wrecked nerves.

He’s done for when your eyes peek open and find his.

Every muscle in his body clenches, his hips bucking up into your mouth despite his effort to remain grounded. Ears filled with the sound of his blood rushing, eyes squeezed tight. He knows he’s blabbering whatever praises have sat on the tip of his tongue since you started between deep desperate groans, but Dokyeom can’t hear a single thing. All he can focus on is how his cum shoots into your waiting mouth as you continue pumping him till his balls are empty.

You swallow his load with ease, popping off his dick to allow your tongue to dart and catch the dribble at the corner of your lips. If that’s how good it's gonna be everytime, Dokyeom is afraid he might fall in love with you from a simple blowjob.

“Good?” You ask with a cheeriness that seems a little out of place given that you’ve sucked his soul out.

Dokyeom’s brain function borders non-existent so he just grunts an affirmation from where he’s crashed on the sheets of his bed, tossing an arm over his eyes as he comes back to earth.

Your giggling has him cracking open his eyes lazily to find you resting your chin on his muscular thigh, smile wide, dangerously close to his softened cock.

“Are you the dick whisperer or?” 

More giggles answer him. You think it's cute how clearly spent he is, not bothering to hide how you affect him, no bullshit bravado some other guys try to pull. 

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” You coo.

“Well that was the best blowjob I’ve ever had.”

“My only competition is a girl from two years ago, but I’ll take it.”

You hop up next to him on the bed, lying parallel to his body as a comfortable silence settles between you. His eyes follow the steady rise and fall of your chest, gaze locked on how your boobs push against the thin fabric of your bra. Dokyeom just makes out the edges on what must be your stiff nipples poking through the cup. It makes him salivate.

“Can I try?” 

“Try what?” You ask, turning your head to look at his face.

Dokyeom rolls over, propping himself up on an elbow to loom over you. His nose traces your jaw, unable to keep his hand from moving across the plane of your belly, thumb burning against bare skin as it dips below the elastic waistband of your leggings.

“Wanna eat you out.” 

The gentle kiss he places under your ear is answered with stuttering breath and a subtle nod.

“Should I,” he swallows thickly. “How should I start?”

“Kissing is good.”

His lips leave a trail of gentle pecks across your cheek to your mouth. When your mouths meet, twin sighs leave your noses. You weren’t lying to him when you told him he was a good kisser. 

The hand that was tracing the hollow of your hip moves up to your jaw, caressing your cheek and allowing Dokyeom to move your head where he wants it. He tilts your chin up, dragging the tip of his tongue against your plush lower lip. Your mouth opens slightly, allowing wet muscles to meet tentatively. 

The vibration of your moan against his lips has his head dipping away.

“Good?”

You mutter a breathless “yes” into his mouth, missing his touch immediately. Your hands plant on the sides of his face, dragging him back in.

You both continue lazily, content in the way your lips meet and hands memorize the other's features. But Dokyeom longs to learn the ins and outs of your body, hoping he can make you feel at least a fraction of the pleasure you've gifted him twice now.

When he tries to disconnect your lips this time, you chase him. Pulling him back in with a maddening drag of teeth, followed by the dull sting of your nails against his shoulder. Your free hand moves his from your jaw down to your chest, giving him an encouraging squeeze to start playing with you.

Hesitating, his large palm gently fondles your breast, thumbing the edge of the lacy fabric hiding you from view. He isn’t doing much other than letting the weight of it settle in his hand. When you break away your gaze to watch his reaction, Dokyeom’s face is set in determination.

“You can do more.”

At your permission he gives a gentle squeeze, it’s sweet but not what you need. 

“Like this.”

Gently brushing him away, you flip the cup of your bra down to expose yourself to the chill of the air. Dokyeom eyes follow with rapt attention, hypnotized by the swell of your chest and the contrasting skin. He stares as you grab his hand again, moving it back to cup your breast. From the gaps between his fingers, ribbons of your flesh are still visible. When the calloused side of his thumb rolls across your nipple this time, you shudder.

“If you want,” you gasp, “you can use your mouth.”

That was all he needed to dive for your chest. Immediately opening his mouth to cover your areola, sucking with too much enthusiasm.

“Wait!” You wince, shoulders caving inward at the zap of discomfort.

Dokyeom jumps back like he’s burnt, terrified expression blooming on his features. 

“It’s okay! But you need to build up to it, ya know?”

“Like how?” 

“Kiss my neck, keep using your hands. But make me want it first and it’ll feel a lot better.”

“Make you…want it? But can’t I just give it to you?”

“Think of it like…” you rack your brain, but when the flex of his biceps catch your eye you continue. “when you workout! You need to warm up first or you’ll get hurt, right?”

“Yeah?” he questions, still unsure.

“So you gotta warm me up first. Just start gently and then… you can get a little rougher.”

“Okay, okay.” He mutters to himself. “Gentle then rough, make you want it. Got it.”

He moves his face back to your chest, rubbing his lips across the smooth skin at the hollow of your throat. Letting his tongue dip out, Dokyeom etches a scorching path along the dips and curves of your chest. He tentatively covers your bare breast with his hand again, squeezing gently while his thumb catches your sensitive nub.

“Much better,” you sigh dreamily, entranced by the featherlight touches he’s teasing along your skin.

“Can I take your bra off?” 

His question is barely intelligible since he mutters it into your skin, around his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Without a word, you arch up and move your hands behind your back. One day he’ll insist you teach him to take it off himself but right now he zeros in on the way you’re pushing into his mouth as the fabric falls limp around your chest, exposing more soft skin for him to explore. You shuck the offending garment off your body, and toss it over the side of his bed. 

Completely bare from the waist up under him, Dokyeom props himself up to catalog the masterpiece that is you. Hair spread across his sheets beneath you, a few rogue tendrils twist below your chin and tickle your neck. Eyes hooded lowly, pupils blown wide. There's a faint blush spreading across your cheeks and down your front, making your skin glow mesmerizingly; and your lips, bruised and swollen, are parted around your shallow pants. 

Yeah, he can definitely get used to seeing you like this.

“What?”

“You’re just… wow.”

“Wow?”

“You’re half naked in my bed after destroying my dick, please be nice to me.”

You respond with a shy smile as you drag him back in. He leaves more kisses across your face and down your chin before getting back to work.

Experimenting, Dokyeom finds your tit. His teeth graze against the puckered bud sucked into his mouth, nipping it gently before laving his tongue across the sore flesh soothingly. He’s rewarded with an agonizing grind of your hips against his thigh, savoring the scalding heat of your pussy through the thin fabric separating you. 

“Again.” You tell him.

So he does.

He memorizes every dreamy sigh, satisfied moan, and sobbed hiccup released from your mouth. He also memorizes exactly what he does to deserve them. You like when he darts the tip of his tongue out to guide himself from one area to the next. Huffing when he blows a cool stream of air on the wet trail, giving rise to a litter of goosebumps. If he scratches his teeth on the more sensitive skin of your nipples or underside of your breast, you’ll hiss a sharp breath and twist your fist in the sheets beside you, back arching for more. If he plays with both of your nipples simultaneously, engulfing one between his lips and lapping with his tongue while his hand pinches and pulls the other, you’ll tremble in his hold and cry his name hoarsely.

He really likes that one. 

“Good?”

You’d think he was teasing if it wasn’t for the trickle of insecurity that seeps into his voice. 

“Great,” you praise, eyes shut against the pleasure you’re receiving. “You should take my pants off.”

“Really?”

“Want you to see how wet you made me.”

He chokes on his own saliva, coughing against you.

“Are you okay?”

His eyes are watering and his face is red as he catches his breath. 

“Oh my god!” Your eyes go wide with worry.

When he finally calms himself, he pins you with a stern look.

“You can’t just,” he huffs. “say stuff like that.”

“Like what? That you’re making me horny?”

“Exactly like that! God, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“So you don’t wanna hear how much I want you to fuck me?” You whisper in his ear, lips dragging against the sensitive shell of his ear.

“No,” he swallows, your words decimating his brain and all common sense. “I do, I just, fuck.”

The last word he groans in response to you stuffing his hand between your spread thighs. The crotch of your leggings are soaked, clinging to the lips of your pussy thanks to your previous movement against his leg.

“Can you feel it?” You pant in his ear. “How wet I am for you?” 

The dirty words strike a cord. He did this; his kisses and caresses teased so much of your arousal of you that it’s leaking through your panties, past your leggings to soak his fingers.

Eyes drifting shut to focus on the slick coating his palm, Dokyeom lets his hand dip lower to push against where he thinks your clit is. The pads of his finger ghosting a tight circle of the digit at the top of your mound. His chest threatens to burst with pride when your hips stutter into his palm.

“Please,” you whimper.

It breaks his heart to remove his hand but he aims to make up for it by stripping off your pants in a rush. Dokyeom nearly rips the material apart when it catches around your thighs but he uses his strength to lift your hips, pushing them down your legs and off you like he has a personal vendetta against them. Your underwear comes off as well, tossed over his shoulder next to your forgotten bra and shirt.

Dokyeom lies between your splayed legs, chest flat with the bed as his hands hook under your knees and push your legs up to spread you before him. Your inner thighs are glistening, smeared with your own arousal that leaks from your cunt, lips swollen and flushed, clit peeking out from under your mound. A wet spot darkens the fabric of his sheets below you, increasing in size as your entrance squeezes around nothing. His nose is full of your heady scent, mouth watering for a taste.

He dives in while his brain sings his new life motto: gentle then rough, make you want it. Gentle then rough, make you want it.

Using his knowledge of what worked well on your chest, he blows a cool breath against your hot center. Dokyeom watches as you mewl above him, head falling back as your spine arches. Barely there kisses tease the sensitive skin of your thigh next to his head, punctuated by sharp nips of teeth leaving bruises blooming bright red in their path.

Dropping his hands from your knees but leaving your legs on his shoulder, he uses his thumbs to spread you apart, granting him unobstructed access to your most sensitive parts. He feels like a pervert; a voyeur, staring in awe at the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen. He knows he’s only seen one in real life (yours) but no one else’s will ever compare. 

Once Dokyeom has taken his fill, and you’re at your wits end above him, he uses the tip of his tongue to score a path from your dripping hole to your clit; moaning at the taste covering his tongue.

“More!” you whine from above, voice thick want.

“You said to make you want it.” He rasps, face still buried between your legs, mapping every ridge and dip.

“I do!”

“Let me play with it.” 

Dokyeom signs his requests with a firm lick to your clit against the flat of his tongue.

“Ahh!” You croak, convulsing from the sudden simulation. One hand flying to his hair to keep him in place.

Dokyeom is all too happy to continue, lapping indecently at your pussy. In his opinion, feeling your essence coat his chin and cheeks as he works you is almost as satisfying as having his cock in your mouth. Seeing you get off above him clicks why you were so enthusiastic when the roles were reversed. He could live and die eating your pussy without complaint.

The rush of pleasure has your thighs attempting to crush his skull. When he pulls your legs apart brutishly you arch again, turned on at the thought of him using his muscles to pin you down and leave you at his mercy. He folds you in half easily, hands pushing the back of your thighs up and out his way.

Since his hands are occupied with pinning your legs in place, one of you attempts to assist him. The hand not fisted in his hair shoots to your pussy, spreading your lips for him and directing him to your clit. Dokyeom doesn’t hesitate to tease your nub framed between your fingers. The occasional brush of his drenched lips or pointed tongue against your hand makes your head fuzzy.

Dokyeom feels you snatch one of his hands away from your leg, pulling it to your face. You suck two of his slender fingers into your mouth, moaning when they press down on your tongue causing you to drool around them. Dokyeom opens his eyes to gape at the vulgar display, hips twitching against the bed when your eyes meet his.

Holy shit.

He’s torn between wanting to stretch you open around the digits you're currently lapping at and letting you continue, imagining it's his cock between your lips. Fortunately for you he doesn’t ponder his choice for too long. Pulling his hand away, his eyes stay trained on yours as he reaches under his own chin to circle your hole. The mix of saliva and the juices of your pussy let him slide in easy enough, silky inner muscles eager to pull him deeper. 

“Spit on it,” you beg, eyes glassy.

He swallows harshly. If he was capable of any thought other than how sexy you are, he’d kick himself for how he let your first time together play out. Virginity be damned, he could have cum from this alone.

Dokyeom is more than willing to give you whatever you desire so he pulls away just enough to spit harshly on your clit, watching the bead race to where his fingers spread you, allowing it to disappear inside the rim of your entrance as he pumps his arm. He fumbles to reattach his mouth to your clit, lashing against the nerves as he stuffs you full; desperate to have you come on his face.

You're a moaning mess above him, hair matted to your sweaty forehead, hands threatening to rip the sheets apart as you fist them. 

“Give me another one,” you instruct, immediately granted your wish.

All you can do is gawk at Dokyeom below you as he brings you to your end with embarrassing speed. Every muscle in your body is pulled taunt, threatening to break any second as tears fill your vision. Your orgasm right there but just out of reach. But when you catch the way Dokyeom is humping against the bed, you snap. You don’t care that his roommate might still be home as you throw your head back with a sob, tears spilling down your face as endorphins blaze through your veins. Your mind is incinerated, vision filled fuzzy with fireworks. You can’t breathe as you gush into his mouth, thighs locked around his head and threatening to suffocate him.

To his credit, Dokyeom doesn’t stop despite the way you thrash below his mouth. If anything, his efforts increase, only encouraged by your shaky moans and shaker thighs. He snags both your ankles in one palm, stretching your legs up and over his head as far as can before pushing them back into your chest to twist you in a V. You get impossible tighter with the shift as he continues to stuff your clenching entrance while he licks your clit, a mess of spit and arousal pooling between your cheeks. You have to pull him away by his hair, interrupted several times by him diving back in to suck up your juices, fingers pushing more and more out of you to drip down his wrist. When you whine and tell him it's too much he finally relents with a gentle kiss and one last thrust before releasing your legs and resting his cheek on your thigh.

You both lay there in silence, panting against one another. Dokyeom kisses back up to your face, dropping sweet pecks to the tops of your thighs, across your hip bones to your belly button where he lets his nose trace up to your sternum and finally to your chin. When you open your eyes you find him staring at you sleepily.

“Hi,” he says, voice thick.

“Hi,” you smile.

He dips to press one last kiss to your lips before pulling you into his arms, pillowing your head on his bicep and brushing his other hand through your tangled hair. He ignores the way his sticky cock throbs against his leg, focusing on caring for you rather than himself.

“Good?” He mumbles against your forehead, lips resting on your hairline.

“I think you’re lying about never having done that before.”

“Scouts honor, you’re the first.”

“Honored. Glad our first tutoring session was so successful.”

First? He thinks. 

“There’ll be more?”

“Well, yeah,” you whisper, suddenly bashful in case he’s no longer interested.

“Sweeeeeet!” he whoops.

You roll your eyes at his boyish response but feel yourself smile anyway. If he can learn to fuck you as well as he eats you out then you’re in for a ride.

[overrboarrd]

sanctuary [1]: initium novum

firefighter!roman reigns x azure clarke [oc]

warnings: bodily injury, slight cussing, mentions of a hospital

word count: 3.3k

a/n: we made it to chapter one! just a smooth little chapter to kick things off. pls forgive any medical errors in this chapter, i did research to the best of my ability. but anyways, i hope yall like it! happy reading <3

The mid-morning sun cast a golden hue over the winding suburban streets as Azure maneuvered her car down the narrow lane, the weight of her life packed in boxes behind her. The soft hum of the engine barely registered over the pounding in her chest as she approached her new house in Pensacola. 

She hadn’t told many people she was moving. And only her parents and her best friend, Jade, knew why. It wasn’t as if she could explain it easily. She didn’t even know if it was the right decision. All she knew was that the three years since her husband’s death had felt like drowning, and she was desperate for air. So she had left the life they had built together—left the house that was filled with echoes of their love, the memories of his laugh, the phantom touch of his hand on her skin—and driven away.

A new start. That’s what she needed. No ghosts here.

Her house was tucked in the back of a quiet neighborhood, isolated enough to provide peace but not so far removed that she’d feel entirely alone. As she pulled into the driveway, Azure cut the engine and sat for a moment, taking in the sight before her. The house was modest, a one-story home with a decently-sized porch and a yard that needed a little attention, but it was hers. Or it would be once she stepped out of the car and claimed it.

She didn’t move.

Not yet.

Instead, she let her gaze drift to the rearview mirror to look across the street, where another house stood. It was slightly larger than hers, and there were a couple of cars parked in front of it. Two men, tall, tattooed and muscular, stood on the front lawn, laughing over something while a little girl, no more than five years old, ran in circles all over the grass. A woman stood not too far from them, with a contagiously warm smile and beautiful deep brown complexion. 

Azure smiled faintly. She had always loved children. Being a pediatric nurse had brought her comfort over the years, a way to focus on helping others instead of drowning in her own grief. Maybe in this new place, she could find some semblance of herself again.

 A sudden vibration pulled her from her thoughts. Her phone screen lit up with a slightly graying man holding the 2-year-old version of herself, the name ‘Pops’ with a blue heart emoji sat at the top of the screen. Azure smiled, pressing the answer button.

“What’s goin’ on Tink?” Her father’s deep voice came through the line, warm and reassuring. “You all settled in yet?”

“Hey Pops,” she said, leaning back in the seat and closing her eyes for a moment, chuckling softly at the sound of her nickname before exhaling slowly. “Almost. I checked out of the hotel earlier this morning and grabbed most of my stuff from the storage place. I’m sitting in my car trying to muster the energy to take all these boxes.”

“Y’know, I would’ve been down there in a heartbeat to help if it wasn’t for this damn knee.” Her father’s voice was filled with regret, though she could hear the slight humor behind it. Eric had always been a man of action, being an Air Force veteran, and being stuck in recovery after knee surgery was a particular kind of torture for him.

“I know,” Azure said, a smile tugging at her lips. “It’s okay. I got this. You need to focus on getting better.”

“Well, I’ve got a new knee now, so I’m basically a bionic man,” he joked. “Once I’m fully up and runnin’, you won’t be able to keep me away.”

In the background, she could hear her mom, Anne, laughing.

“Bionic man? Chile, please,” her mom’s voice chimed in. “You’re more like the Tin Man from The Wiz, creaky joints and all. Next thing you know, you’ll need a can of oil just to get out the damn bed.”

“A ki-ki,” her dad replied, mockingly. “I might be old, but m’still quicker than you give me credit for.”

Azure laughed softly, the sound easing the tension in her chest. She could always count on her parents to make her feel better, no matter how much weight she was carrying. And right now, it felt like a mountain.

“How’s Ma doing?” Azure asked, knowing her mom could hear her.

“Surviving this old man, baby.” Anne called from the background, teasing as always. “Barely.”

“Be nice to him now,” Azure said, smiling as she imagined her mom giving her dad a playful shove. “You know you’d be lost without him.”

“Lost? I’d be free,” her mom shot back, chuckling.

“Sure you would,” her dad said dryly. “Anyway, you all settled in then?“

“Yeah, everything’s here. Might go out and grab a few more things later on.” Azure replied, leaning her head against the headrest, watching a couple of kids riding their bikes down the street. The neighborhood was peaceful, quiet. It was almost surreal how different it felt from her old life. “It’s a nice area, though. Feels... safe.”

Eric paused on the line, and Azure could sense what was coming next.

“You sure you’re okay? I mean... all this moving, leaving your job, your friends—it’s a big change. You don’t have to do it all alone, y’know?”

She bit her lip, grateful for his concern but also not wanting to get into the emotions she had been avoiding since making the decision to move. “I’m okay Pops. Really. It’s just... time. Time for something new. I think I need this.”

“I get it,” he said softly. “And you know your momma and I are just a phone call away if you ever need anything.”

“I know.” Azure’s voice caught slightly, but she cleared her throat. “I’ll call you guys later. Give Ma a hug for me.”

“I will. We love you baby .”

“Love y’all too.”

She ended the call and placed her phone in her lap, staring at the house again. Her new life, or at least the next chapter of it, was waiting behind that door. She just wasn’t quite ready to face it yet.

A gust of warm wind brushed against her face as she stepped out of the car, stretching her arms before looking up and down the street. Large trees lined the sidewalk and a variety of plants scattered across front lawns. It was so different from the city bustle she was used to. Azure tugged at the hem of her tank top, adjusting her sunglasses atop her head before taking a deep breath and heading towards the open trunk of her car. She began to place a few of the boxes on the ground, stacking them high enough to where she could carry them. She did her best to try to push the button that would close the trunk, before hearing a bit of commotion coming from across the street. 

“Go over there, you see her struggling!”

“Ow! Damn!”

“A’ight, a’ight! We goin’!” 

“Stop cussing in front of Audrey, Jey!” 

“Mmcht, that’s not even a bad word!”

Just as she managed to finally close her trunk, two men emerged from across the street with nervous yet easy-going smiles. They were dressed casually, both in basketball shorts and t-shirts, clearly enjoying the holiday weekend. The man, with two long cornrows and a wide grin, waved cheerfully. "You must be the new neighbor."

Azure forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as awkward as it felt before setting the boxes on the concrete. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“I’m Jimmy,” he said, extending his hand. “And this is my brother, Jey.” The other brother, with a freshly shaped up mullet, and his twin from what she saw, gave her a small wave before continuing to soothe the side of his arm. “We live across the street... well, technically, our cousin lives there.”

 “As much as we over there that might as well be our house too.” Jey adds. “We just watching our lil’ cousin while he’s on call today.” 

Azure’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion.

“Firefighter.” 

“Yeah, you’ll see him runnin’ up and down the street with his shirt off, flexin’ his muscles eventually,” Jimmy joked, nudging Jey, who laughed along.

“Aye, speak for yourself,” Jey teased. “Uce is way too serious now for all that.” Before Azure could respond, Jimmy leaned against her car with an easy smile. “Need help with your boxes? My wife saw you strugglin’ over here.” He nodded his head towards the front yard where the woman and little girl continued to play. “We could help unload your stuff, we got some muscle.” He continued, slapping Jey’s arm in the same reddened spot Naomi had smacked him in earlier. 

Azure blinked, taken aback by their sudden friendliness. “Oh, you really don’t have to—”

“Nah, we insist,” Jey said, waving off her protest and playfully raising his hand at his brother. “We already out here, and you look like you got a lot of boxes.”

Jimmy nodded. “Yeah, looks like you in for a long weekend. Plus you'll get to meet more people if you not buried under a mountain of cardboard.”

Azure laughed softly, the sound surprising even herself. It had been so long since she’d laughed with anyone besides her family, and for a moment, the tightness in her chest loosened. “Okay, fine. If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate the help.”

Jey clapped his hands before rubbing them together. “Yessir! Let’s get to it!”

She watched as Jimmy jogged across the street to say something to his wife before returning next to Azure’s car trunk. The twins grabbed the heaviest boxes and followed behind her as she unlocked her front door, holding it open as they stepped through. 

“You can just sit them down in here.” She pointed to the bare living room floor. 

They obliged, and the trio spent the next thirty minutes carrying Azure’s things into the house. As they hauled the last box inside, Azure took a moment and looked around. Her new home was still bare, with unpacked boxes scattered everywhere, but for the first time in a long while, it didn’t feel so overwhelming.

“Thanks so much, you guys,” she said, leaning against the doorframe. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Jimmy replied. “We know how it is, moving to a new place and all. Speakin’ of which—” He exchanged a glance with Jey, who smiled before turning back to Azure. “We’re havin’ a uh, small get together for Labor Day in a few days, before the kids gotta go back to school. You should come. Meet some more folks.”

“Yeah,” Jey added. “And I’m grilling. Best steaks you’ll ever have in your entire life.”

Azure hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll think about it. I’ve got a lot to get through with the move, but I’ll see if I can make it.”

“No pressure,” Jimmy said with a grin. “Just good food, good people, maybe a couple of bad jokes from baby bro here.”

“Nah, that’s all you, Uce,” Jey chimed in, shaking his head, laughing. “The rest of us are hilarious.”

Azure laughed, feeling some of the earlier tension in her chest loosen. It had been a long time since she’d been around anyone who didn’t know her story, her loss. The weight of it usually hung in the air, but with these two, it was easy—light.

“Thanks for the invite. I’ll try to stop by,” she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“No problem,” Jey replied. “And seriously, if you need help, just holla at ya uce!”

They exchanged goodbyes, and as Jimmy and Jey headed back across the street, Azure found herself watching them. The little girl, Audrey, ran to greet them, her small arms wrapped around Jimmy’s leg. Azure smiled again, the sight tugging at something deep inside her. She missed that kind of innocence, the unguarded joy children had.

She sighed, stepping back inside her house, the quiet suddenly pressing in around her again.

The move had been a good distraction, but the moment the door closed, the familiar pang of loss crept in. The weight she carried was never truly gone, even in new surroundings. She could feel it in the silence of the empty house.

But maybe this new place, this new life, could be different.

Maybe.

She removed her sunglasses from her head before putting her curly hair in a low bun, thinking of the cookout invitation. The idea of meeting new people was intimidating, but also strangely comforting.

She exhaled slowly. It was time to unpack, in more ways than one.

The emergency room was buzzing with activity, the usual rush of nurses, doctors, and paramedics filling the air with an almost palpable energy. The sterile smell of antiseptic hung in the air, a constant reminder that Azure was in a place of healing, yet one brimming with urgency. Azure stood beside Bianca, the lead nurse who was guiding her through her first few weeks at the hospital. Though she had worked at other medical facilities, Central Pensacola Children’s Hospital felt different. Everything was new—new routines, new people, and new expectations. The weight of her personal loss was something she carried, but the chaos of the ER was an easy distraction. She’d been a pediatric nurse for nearly five years, and while each day brought its own challenges, today felt different—more charged, somehow. Maybe it was the change of scenery, or maybe it was the lingering weight from the night before. Either way, she couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that had settled deep in her chest.

She glanced at her watch, noting that it had only been three hours into her shift, but it already felt like a long day. Just as Azure was about to take a breather, the familiar sound of an ambulance pulling up to the emergency entrance flooded her ears. Instinctively she straightened, refocusing her attention. Moments later, the doors swung open, and a team of paramedics rushed in, wheeling a stretcher with a little boy whose cries echoed through the hallway.

Azure felt something shift in the air as another man entered the room. His presence was powerful—he carried himself with a quiet, commanding energy, but understated—like a steady flame that didn’t need to burn brightly to be felt. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with long dark hair that was pulled back yet slightly tousled.

Bianca nudged Azure forward as they moved towards the patient. "That’s our guy," Bianca muttered softly, not bothering to hide the slight admiration in her voice. "Roman Reigns. One of the best firefighters in the city. Always brings them in safe."

Azure took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand, but as she approached the gurney, her eyes inadvertently met Roman’s.

Roman’s gaze lingered on her for just a moment longer than she’d expected before he shifted back to the child. "Possible broken arm. Fell off the jungle gym at the park," Roman explained, his voice deep and steady. He had done this countless times, and yet there was something almost gentle in the way he spoke about the boy’s injury. "He’s been in a lot of pain, but he’s stable."

Azure nodded, moving to the boy’s side. "Hey there, little man." she said softly to the boy, who looked up at her with watery eyes. "We’re gonna get you all fixed up, okay?"

The boy gave a small, hesitant nod, still clutching his arm. Azure reached out carefully, making sure not to touch the injured area, and offered him a reassuring smile. Definitely a broken arm. Nothing life-threatening, but enough to send the boy into a fit of tears. Meanwhile, she could feel Roman’s eyes on her, watching her interact with the patient. It was strange—the way she felt under his gaze—not uncomfortable, just very noticeable.

As she stepped aside to let Bianca take over, Roman moved closer to Azure, close enough that she could feel the faint warmth of him. His voice was low when he spoke, almost like a murmur just for her. "You’re new here."

It wasn’t a question, just an observation. Azure glanced up at him, her heart skipping inexplicably. "Yeah," she replied, doing her best to keep her voice even. "Just started a couple weeks ago."

Roman nodded slowly, his eyes studying her for a moment longer before he shifted his attention back to the boy. "You did good with him," he said, his tone softer, almost approving. And then, as quickly as it began, the moment passed. He gave a short nod toward Bianca, who was now checking the boy’s vitals, and walked away from the gurney.

Azure busied herself with the task at hand, helping the little boy get settled in the examination room. But even as she worked, she was acutely aware of the man outside. She didn’t know why, but something about him tugged at her, a pull she couldn’t quite explain.

Minutes later, as she stepped out into the hallway to grab a few supplies, she found herself face to face with him. He was just leaving, handing off paperwork to the desk.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Everything okay with the kid?”

Azure nodded, suddenly feeling an odd flutter in her chest. “Yeah, just a broken arm. He’s a little scared, but he’ll be fine.”

Roman nodded, glancing back towards the room briefly. “Glad to hear it.” He paused, as if considering whether or not to say more. 

He opted against it, and as he walked away, Azure found herself standing there, staring after him for a moment before heading back to find Bianca. She didn’t know him—didn’t know anything about him—but something about the way he’d looked at her, the way he carried himself with a mix of strength and humility. She shook her head, pushing away the strange feeling that had taken root in her chest, but the pull lingered, deep in the back of her mind, refusing to let her go.

Bianca approached her as the boy was wheeled to X-ray, giving Azure a sly smile. "You’ve got good instincts," she said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "And good job keeping him calm. You're doing great, girl."

Azure smiled, appreciating the praise. "Thanks, Bianca."

Just as they began to walk back to the station, Dr. Rollins, the lead pediatric doctor, approached them. He gave Bianca a brief nod before turning his attention to Azure. "Nice work today, Azure. I know things have been pretty fast-paced the past couple of weeks, but you’ve handled it well."

"Thank you, Dr. Rollins," Azure replied, her voice steady, though her mind was still on Roman’s fleeting but intense presence.

Bianca nudged her again, playfully this time. "Looks like you’ve caught some attention already," she teased as they walked toward the nurse’s station.

Azure gave a light laugh, shaking her head. "It’s nothing like that."

"Mhm, sure," Bianca grinned knowingly. "But, hey, I’m just saying… Dr. Rollins's not the easiest person to impress. If he noticed you, it’s something."

Azure forced a smile but didn’t respond. As they walked away from the trauma bay, Azure couldn't shake the anxious feeling of this new beginning.

———

Dear Brother, I hope this letter finds you well as always,  I know it’s been a while, I’ve been real busy lately. I met someone recently, and I don’t know what it is, but… there’s just something that I can’t shake. There’s this… feeling, maybe a good feeling? I don’t know. It's throwing me off. Haven’t felt it before. It’s hard to explain, but it’s not something I can just brush off. I’m not sure where this will go, but I’ll write to you once I know more. I miss you. I think about you often, especially when things get tough. It feels strange sometimes, like I’m starting this new chapter on my own, but knowing you’re out there somewhere, helps me feel less alone. I love you, I’ll make time to write to you sooner. I promise.

[pennyellee]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings (preview only): minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, incision wound, blood, suicide attempt, strong language, mentions of God, ...

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 583

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

author's note: well, yall, life is getting in my way, it's certainly keeping me from finishing this chapter, but it shouldn't be that long before I actually do. I wanted to drop a little preview before the sacred day I was born, which is tomorrow, 1-2-3 birthday depression. Enjoy the preview and stay tuned for the chapter. I'll be also answering some asks tomorrow, yes, i see them, and i love you all so so so so much, I just have very little of free time lately. See ya soon! lots of love, p. 𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡🫧

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VII CHAPTER VIII

Time seemed to slow as Yoongi lunged forward, reaching out to stop her, but it was too late. The blade sliced through her skin, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as pain seared through her, her vision swimming with darkness. She felt Yoongi’s hands on her, his panicked voice calling out to her, but it was distant as if coming from a faraway place.

“Seokjin?!!” he shouted, his voice raw with desperation.

He cradled her in his arms, his hands trembling as he pressed against the wound, trying desperately to stem the flow of blood.

The sound of loud footsteps echoed in the corridor as others rushed forward to reach the doctor, their expressions a mix of horror and disbelief. But amidst the chaos, Y/N’s empty gaze remained fixed on Yoongi, her eyes still burning with flames.

“Stay with me, baby. Don’t leave me please.” Yoongi whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. He pressed his lips to her forehead, willing her to hold on, to fight for her life.

But as he looked down at her pale, lifeless face, he knew that the road ahead would be long and fraught with challenges. For now, all he could do was pray that she would survive, that she would find the strength to forgive him and that they would someday find their way back to each other.

“Please don’t take her away from me, my Lord.”

Yoongi prayed that it was not too late to save her from the darkness that threatened to consume them both.

One thing remained clear in Yoongi’s mind: he would do whatever it took to save her, to make amends for the pain he had caused, and to prove to her that his love was worth fighting for.

Yoongi’s voice cut through the turmoil, his words a desperate plea for forgiveness. He begged for her to forgive him, to give him another chance to make things right. No more secrets, no more lies. No more pain. He was willing to rebuild their relationship from the ground up, on a foundation of honesty and trust.

The metallic scent of blood mingled with the tang of fear, thickening the air with a palpable sense of impending doom. He ripped one of his sleeves a while ago, pressing the roughly crimpled fabric to the wound, praying that Seokjin was near. Or did anyone hear him scream frantically enough to relay the message?

“You can’t leave me, baby, please. I promise we’ll work everything through.”

He kissed and caressed her hair with his free hand which was covered with her blood. Tears blurred his vision as his hand trembled at the sight. A blood he never wished to shed.

“Please, Y/N, you have to forgive me.” The weight of his actions pressed down on him like a leaden blanket, suffocating him with the weight of his mistakes.

“Fucking goddammit Yoongi!”

—

Y/N set the plates on the table, pouring the hot water into a kettle of green tea as he joined her at the table. They exchanged smiles, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the kitchen and the windows providing a magnificent view of the sea.

“I’ve been thinking,-” she said with a smile on her face while she set the seaweed salad down in front of him. He hummed in response, reading today’s paper.

“About opening my practice.” He nodded, sipping his tea thoughtfully.

“Thought you wanted to wait until the babe arrives?”

.

.

.

.

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧

©pennyellee. please do not repost

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

PS: accounts highlighted in pink cannot be tagged, so if you want to be in the tag list, please make sure you have it allowed in your settings. 𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

tag list: @beautifulcloudfestival - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyyyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss - @secfir - @btspurplesky - @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin - @selenophileforlife - @idkjustlovingbts @seonghwaexile

[siolixz]

~Veils Of Crimson~

Chapter 4

Pairings: oz cobb x reader (Carmine Falcone's daughter)

<chapter 1> <chapter 2> <chapter 3>

Reader is a child of the circumstances she was raised in and Oz is still manipulative-I had to take a few breaks from writing this to walk around my house a lil bit-I think I have a pretty clear idea of where I wanna take this story going forward. You get to FUCK that old man! YES! Also, I am currently drawing Oz and 'reader' how I imagine her, can't wait to show yall. Next Chapter is gonna be up as soon as I see the new episode and I get virtually high with creativity.

I took my inspo from Driving Miss Falcone by (https://www.tumblr.com/genevievedarcygranger here on tumblr), check out the story if you can.

Enjoy, give feeback if u want ily xoxo.

Warnings: mature language, smut (oral sex, hair pulling, riding) violence, general horniness.

“WHERE ARE YOU”

You texted her back that you were out and perfectly fine-nothing to worry about, you apologized for not texting her in time as well. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. Ok, so you didn’t text Sofia that you were gonna leave, so what? She’s not your parent. You just unfortunately forgot, in all the excitement of seeing Oswald, you ran out of the door, got in the car and disappeared.

With your heart beating out of your chest, you pressed the handle of the main entrance to the mansion and upon being greeted with the quietness of the estate at this late hour- you went into the kitchen to grab yourself a snack from one of the fridges there.

Where are those damn Milka sweets you brought back from Europe? Did someone eat them? If they did you were gonna-

“Sneaking inside at this late hour? How scandalous.”

“Jesus, Sofia, you HAVE to stop doing that-”

“Where were you?” she said, while stepping closer, cocking her head.

Alright, this was older sister Sofia speaking

“I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t want to leave like that, It’s just that-I had some business I had to do, ok?” you said, hoping this lie would be sufficient

She didn’t look like she believed you, but she stopped asking any questions.

“While you were gone, I found a guy that's gonna help us with catching the rat in our family, once and for all.” -she didn't tell you anything about whatever she had planned

“A guy that’s gonna help us with finding the rat? That’s good. Great even.”

“Yeah, it is.” she looked down for a moment before taking a deep breath and coming closer “Listen, I think it would be best that you leave here a while, with everything that’s going on, I don’t want to lose you too-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said. Who does she think she is? Sending you away like this “this is my home.”

“Yes, yes i know” she closed her eyes deep in thought and opened them before continuing “you are one of the most important people in this family and I know how hard it is to be sent away-but this time, believe me, it’s for your own good. I only want the best for you.”

“No, no. I can help Sofia, I know I can. Why didn’t you tell me about the detective? I could’ve come with you-”

“Listen, just listen. I love you, I want the best for you-”

“You believe imma hold you back. That’s it. So you want to send me away, like dad.” you started nodding, mostly to yourself. That was it, she didn’t want you around, like she didn’t even miss you. “We have an army of guards at the mansion, I could remain here until everything is resolve-”

“Your place isn’t in a power struggle between us and the Maronis, you know that.” Honestly, fuck her. She barely talked to you since coming home, you weren’t the little girl she once knew.

“Alright- I guess, let me know if you need anything. Good night” You started backing up while talking to her, you didn’t even want to see her

“Good night.” she said.

Today was your brother’s memorial service and everyone important was here. There was food and good drinks, ready to be served for everyone to remember and toast towards your brother’s life. You really missed him and hoped he was in a better place.

You talked to Carla and Gia-her daughter. Gia told you looked beautiful, like a princess.

Like a princess of death and despair probably, wearing all black.

You saw everyone’s head turn towards the only person that could pull their attention away from you-Sofia, who was currently shoving a fist full of pasta in her mouth.

Classy-just like you remembered.

You took this moment of ignorance and disappeared into one of the rooms near one of the staircases that lead downstairs for a moment of quietness, you wanted to browse the internet a bit- see if anyone took a picture of you with him.

You talked to Oz last night when you arrived home- he told you to call him when you did, he said that you two will see each other today, that he was sorry you had to leave so early and that he really enjoyed your date, he didn’t have that much fun in a long time.

What a sweet man you thought, last night he was incredibly gentle and you could get used to going out with him, being by his side. His big arms, his charisma- everything about that man left you wondering when you two would be alone again, maybe in a more intimate setting- god it felt like you were 19 again, daydreaming about riding him in the backseat of your Rolls Royce, the way his hands would hold you down, guide you down his-

“-I told you to come to me, not go behind my BACK!”

Your uncle Luca, accompanied by Sofia and Castillo were coming down the steps-rudely disturbing your dream.

When your uncle saw you, he pointed at you and asked “You dragged your little sister into this too?”

You looked at Sofia, then at Luca “What?”

“No, she doesn’t know anything.”

“Good, at least one of you listens.” Luca continued. Fuck was his deal? Did he find out about Sofia’s plan to find the rat?

They continued to go down, still talking. You decided you didn’t want to stick around to find out what they were doing so you left and found that every single door was closing? Ok, what the literal fuck is happening.

“Search everyone for weapons.”

You followed the voice and found some of the guards in a line, unfortunately the man you desired was also between them.

“Oz? What happened?” you said as you ran up to him, the sound of your manolo blahnik heels creating sharp clicks against the expensive floor.

His gaze softened when he saw you and before he could say anything one of your guards, spoke up next to him “Someone iced a Maroni in the basement.” Oh, so that’s why Sofia was rushing downstairs with Luca, yikes.

“The fuck. Fuck you!” Viti said, as he was roughly handled by a guard. This fucking asshole, you hoped it was him secretly.

Luca and Sofia joined everyone in the hallway and your uncle called out your name and ordered you to step back-you had to unfortunately, obey.

“Fuck you looking at?” You and Oz were both staring but he directed his words towards him. “It was you, wasn’t it?” What was he doing? “You sent us there to get massacred, what did the Maronis give ya’, huh?” accusing a member of the family like this isn't wise, Oz.

“Watch your fucking mouth you gimp.”

“Fuck your mother ya dirty rat!” Jesus Christ Oz. Before you knew it they literally jumped at each other's throat, well more like Oz went to punch him in the face and stomach.

It took two men to pull the much larger man off of Viti- you were too shocked to say anything. Why was he acting like this? Did Viti’s comment rile him up this bad? Johnny is a well known shit talker.

“One of you is a fucking traitor-feeding information to the fucking enemy, I will not tolerate that.” Luca said. You looked at your sister, her face didn’t move towards you.

As the guards searched the suspects- Castillo, Sofia’s personal bodyguard, was found to be the rat.

Shithead, you thought.

“Miss Falcone I swear to God, that is not mine.” he pleaded, what a liar. You glanced at Oz and he gave you a wink- you couldn’t wait for him to be let go and kiss him again, the thought alone gave you butterflies.

“You were there with him that night-you killed him.” Sofia’s words were full of anger- hate clear as day on her face

“I didn’t-I would never.” What a shitty excuse of a human being, lying like this, your brother didn’t deserve to die at his hands.

“Give me your gun.” Sofia said towards the guard holding Castillo. Was she gonna shoot him here, in the house? You saw Oz look at you.

“Sofia, please listen to me-”

“GIVE ME YOUR GUN”

“I would NEVER do this to you-”

Luca turned to you and told you to turn around and you tried to as quick as possible-covering your ears and jumping when hearing the gunshot, did she shoot him?

This sort of stuff-this shit should never, ever happen inside the house. You knew your sister wasn’t right in the head after coming back from Arkham, but this, this was not right.

With your heartbeat in your ears, you left as quick as you could, you didn’t wanna turn around and see a dead body- one who only seconds ago was living and breathing, a human being, who you knew-who pleaded for his life- he deserved to die but not to get shot like this, especially inside the house.

You heard Oz call out your name, but you didn’t stop-you had to get outside, you didn’t even know if you would want to sleep inside the house tonight-God your knees felt weak.

Was your sister really that brutal? Was that necessary? You felt tears form in your eyes.

“Doll-” you heard the door open and as you made eye contact with Oz your tears couldn’t stop, you didn’t even know WHY you were crying.

You certainly weren’t crying for Castillo’s life, he was a rat, this is how people like him deserve to go- you should not cry-it was probably from the shock of it all.

“I-i'm sorry” you said-trying to turn away from Oz, you didn’t want him to think you were a crybaby or something-you were holding your tears back as well as you could, before he grabbed you in his arms and then you were REALLY crying.

“What just happened?” you sobbed, this was horrible-this sort of thing would’ve never in a million years happen if your dad was alive.

Between Oz shushing you-telling you that you are going to be ok and running his hands along your back up and down you eventually calmed down.

“Are you better? Hm?” he didn’t let go of you -you nodded.

“Ye-yeah I’m better, thank you. I’m sorry.”

“Ain’t nothing to apologize for doll, you shouldn’t have seen or heard that shit, that’s not how things go.” he looked genuinely apologetic, like he shot him.

“What happened to the guy downstairs?”

“Castillo stabbed him in the chest.” he said, while glancing down momentarily

“Good God, what has this house come to? What kind of monster does such a thing?”

“Yeah nasty business, horrible really.”

“I don’t know if I can step inside again tonight, I don’t wanna sleep in there.” you hugged your arms to your chest, between your sister telling you to fuck off and then Castillo being shot, you didn’t want to go back inside “I’ll get myself a room at the Belle Monico”

“Yeah well, If you don’t want to spend the money you can crash at my place, if you want of course-”

“Really? You’d have me?”

“Of course.” he said, matter-of-factly “anything you need-you know you can call me.”

“Oz, imma need you to take care of this shitshow inside-” Viti didn’t open the front door wide enough to see that you were there too

“Yeah-yeah I’ll take care of them.” Oz gave him a dismissive wave, Jonny just shut the door as quick as he opened it “This bald motherfucker is giving me orders too now.” He looked at you, hoping you would laugh at his comment-and you did.

“Keep that smile, ok?’ while also smiling- Oz climbed down the steps to the main entrance. He turned towards you and continued “By 8 o’clock I’ll be done with all this shit and you can drop by-I’ll text you my address. In the meantime, go away from the estate, go shopping or something, I know that it will make you feel better, ok?” you nodded from the top of the stairs “No MORE crying, you got that?” he pointed a finger at you.

“Alright.” you said “see ya.” The smile he left you with didn’t disappear and as you called your driver to come outside and grab your bag, you were already thinking about what underwear to wear tonight.

The excitement bubbling inside you was undeniable and as you listened to music in the backseat of the mercedes you were getting driven in it was hard not to let your mind wander, first time you were gonna be over at Oswald’s house, just you and him, all thoughts of the gruesome spectacle that happened today at your mansion disappeared-all replaced by the familiar excitement you always had before seeing him.

This time, however, it was going to be different. You were sure that if you didn’t get to feel him on top of you, you might actually pass away tomorrow.

As your driver pulled up into the Diamond District your stomach knotted with nerves, you were a few blocks down from Oz’s place-you tried to distract yourself from all the emotions and looked outside, you might’ve been in one of these shops in the past- even if they looked a bit shitty.

“I’m waiting for you, climb up the staircase when you get in, I’ll open the door.” he texted you

OK, you were really doing this- you scooted back in the driver’s seat and took a deep breath- you put your phone on mute, Sofia didn’t answer your call when you left so screw her.

The woman that just kissed his boss on the cheek might’ve been the most put together person he ever saw in his life. She looked like she belonged in a magazine, with perfect manicured nails, beautiful hair and gorgeous bright teeth that were shown to him as she smiled-introducing herself.

Words didn’t register in his head, too blinded by this strange creature that just waltzed in like it was noth- Falcone?

He told him about her, after the failed drug transport “a woman like that kid whew -don’t think you ever saw someone as beautiful” he paused “ she don’t hang around with just any schmuck, you gotta provide a level of security-of money-I promised myself, I’d get her on my arm one day one way or another.”

This was the sister of ‘The Hangman’ shi-

“Cat got your tongue or you’re gonna leave the girl hanging like this?” Oz said and chuckled, but the jolly behavior didn’t reach his boss eyes, it sounded more like a threat to Victor “Hhey I’m V-victor.” the nerves he felt were clearly evident- poor kid you thought.

“You must be Oz’s driver, nice to meet you.” sadly, you weren’t alone with him “Nice place you got” you said, walking around a bit.

“Vic, go get us some food- doll, you have a preference for anything?”

“No, whatever you say it’s best.”

As Oz instructed Vic where to go, you looked around his place.

It was cozy, you liked it. There was a picture frame with the history of this place- this is where they made the jewels you saw outside- well some of them. That’s cool, also Oz bedroom had these big ass doors, they looked like they were made to hide money.

As Vic left the apartment you looked outside, the big concrete buildings were a stark contrast to the gorgeous scenery you were used to.

“What d’you want to drink? Got some wine, or the strong stuff—whiskey, scotch.” He gave you a half-smile, pouring himself a glass. “But I’m guessing that ain’t your thing.”

“Water’s fine-”

He raised an eyebrow, scoffing lightly. “Nah, c’mon. After the crap you went through today? You deserve better.” Before you could protest, he poured a glass of red wine and handed it to you. “Trust me, this one’s better than what they had back at the restaurant.”

You took a sip as he sat down next to you. He was right, it was much better than the one at the restaurant.

“Guess it’s just… everything that happened today,” you said, a bit quieter. “What if they come after me next?”

He set his glass down, leaning in close. “Listen, doll…” His voice dropped, low and rough as he placed his hand on your knee. You tried to ignore the way his big hands on your leg made you feel. “You’re safe here. No one’s coming for you in this place. I got that covered.” He watched you carefully, making sure you heard every word. “You know I’d never let anything happen to you, right? You don’t gotta worry ‘bout a damn thing here.” he leaned closer to your face- trying to make eye contact as you gazed at the floor and then back up at him.

His hand stayed on your knee, warm and steady, and the intensity in his eyes made your pulse quicken. He wasn’t usually this serious, this protective—and it felt comforting. Comfort that you haven’t felt in a very, very long time

“You sure I’m not in the way here, Oz?” his hand tightened just slightly on your knee and his thumb traced circles on your leg

“Stop it with that. You ain’t ‘in the way,’ alright?” He leaned back, looking off for a second before muttering, “Fuck… when you left, I felt like shit..”

You reached over, brushing your hand against his. “It’s alright, Sofia’s back now; that’s what’s important.”

He huffed, giving you a crooked grin and a full image of his golden teeth “Yeah, sure. But it ain’t just Sofia.” His voice softened, though his hand stayed firm on your knee, possessive, like he didn’t want you going anywhere. “You mean a lot more to me than you think, i'm not gonna let you walk outta here that easily.”

You smiled at him and before you could respond, he closed the distance between the two of you with his mouth on yours with a hungry, possessive force.

The taste of whiskey and warmth flooded over you as he deepened the kiss, his other hand sliding up your back, pulling you in close. When he finally pulled back, his gaze lingered on your face, his hands tucked a stray hair next to your face behind your ear. The deep brown of his eyes had such a warmth to them, like crackling firewood-so gorgeous and full of passion.

“C’mere,” he murmured, his hands guiding you over him. He shifted on the couch, pulling you into his lap until you straddled him, his hands steady on your waist. His touch was possessive, yet gentle as his fingers traced along your hips, holding you there. “Forget all that other crap, it's just you and me, okay?” he said when you were on top of him

The feel of him beneath you, this bull of a man- so dangerous yet so soft towards you, so gentle- you alone could make him feel like this and that thought sent a thrill through you as his hands settled on your back, pulling you in closer.

He kissed you again, deeper this time, his lips warm and slow as he leaned into you. The heat between you grew as his hands slipped beneath your shirt tracing your waist and back, his fingers gripping harder into you with each kiss. You felt his hand move from underneath your shirt to slide up, fingers tangling in your hair, gently tugging you closer as his mouth started to press open mouthed kisses on your neck.

“You’re where you should be, right here with me” he murmured against your skin, his voice so low you thought your ears and cheeks would light on fire from the heat rushing towards them- the way he enveloped you fully-the lingering whisper of tobacco on his collar, blended with the whiskey on his tongue was making you moan all on its own-the way his hands helped you grind down on him- like he’d been waiting for this.

“Oz please” you didn’t exactly know why you were saying please for, just that you wanted him to do ‘something’ .

He placed you with your back on the couch, still kissing you and he lifted your shirt just high enough to grab hold of your jeans. “Take this shit off” he roughly grabbed your jeans zipper and pulled you down a little bit by his movement, barely getting them off and when he did- those stupid skinny jeans stopped at your knees and in his urgency left them there- while also ignoring the very expensive pair of panties who you just bought TODAY.

He didn't even look at them and with one hand under your ass, pulling you closer to his face -he started to press kisses on your ass and near your pussy.

In all this rush, you couldn’t even think straight. With one hand he almost folded you in half and with the other he was pulling you closer to him. You couldn’t believe this was happening- giggling a little bit and moaning- you grabbed your pants and finally pulled them off- tossing them somewhere in the apartment.

You opened your legs to give him space. You felt goosebumps rising on your skin and grabbed his head when he started to lick your clit- placing a hand on your mouth didn't do too much to stop the sounds you were making, but at least you were trying.

His hands went below your shirt, on your tits and he groaned when he got to them-the sound sending a very pleasant vibration to your most sensitive place and making you moan even harder.

One of his hands remained on your breast, massaging it and with his other hand he put his finger inside, you thought that you might actually come from that alone, the way his much bigger finger felt inside of you-a familiar heat started pooling in your stomach-you closed your eyes-trying to not let go of this feeling, “please Oz” you sounded so pathetic, whispering like that.

Oswald didn’t even respond to you, just started pushing his fingers even deeper inside, the feeling of having his tongue touch you repeatedly where you only touched with a finger, maybe two- was the most euphoric thing you ever experienced and the way his fingers would push up like that-”Oh my god” you breathed out, gripping your mouth- your legs wrapped around his head and you moved your hips, trying to get to feel him as much as you could.

While he switched from sucking your clit to rubbing circles with his tongue on your bud, his hands were keeping themselves busy with your nipples- just peeking over your almost pulled down bra from underneath your shirt. This was too much. “I’m gonna-” You don’t think you ever experienced an orgasm like that before, your belly was almost aching by the end, the way you moved against his face made you feel almost sorry, almost.

“Look what you did” Oz turned his body to the side and got up to sit on his ass on the couch- his erection evident in his suit. You got up as well, sipped some of your wine- god that was good, your heartbeat hasn’t slowed down since he grinded you on his cock but now all your nerves were overshadowed by blind confidence that only a woman as young and as beautiful as you could possess when you tossed your top and bra next to you and kissed him as hard as you could, before going down on your hands and knees before him.

“There she is.” he said, smiling-while you were preoccupied with freeing his penis from his pants, you started to pepper light kisses up and down his length, from his uncut head down towards his balls.

He groaned as he slipped off his suspenders and unbuttoned his shirt, giving you a tease of the hair on his chest. He grabbed hold of your hair from this position and you were thinking you were ready for another round by the way you pussy clenched when he did that- with his brows furrowed he guided you to his cock. Ok, so no kisses? Straight to business.

“Can’t even imagine how much I’ve been waiting for this.” as your lips covered the head of his shaft- you tried not to choke as he guided you up and down him. One of your hands went straight for his penis as well to help you- while the other was slowly tracing circles on your still sensitive clit.

“Just like that baby” he groaned and you could see him hold himself back-with one hand he was holding your head and with the other he touched your face- the cold metal of his rings and his gold bracelet as it touched your upper back sent shivers down your spine and you were sure you jumped a little when it came in contact with your hot skin. You tried to breathe as much as you could through your nose, your hand helping you take care of all of him. He unzipped his pants even more, giving you more access to him, his penis wasn’t that long but it was thick, god you wondered how good it must feel inside.

He pulled you off of him to give you room to breathe a little bit and he kissed you again before putting your head on his cock again, his groans and the sounds that your mouth on his shaft made were the only sound in the living room- whenever a moan would leave you, he groaned and pushed your head even deeper down him, almost making your nose touch the dark hair there. Up and down and then again, his cock was fully drenched in a mix of your saliva and his precum- you felt tears well up in your eyes.

He gave a quick inhale before he pulled you off of him and grabbed your body to straddle him once again.

“You’re so beautiful” he said before lifting your hips to touch the head of his penis, you kissed him as he grabbed your tits in his hands and you both moaned in each other’s mouth as you took him.

It did feel really good to have him inside you like this, his forehead had a sheer layer of sweat on it- his eyebrows were furrowed in pleasure.

“Oh, that’s good” he pulled you completely down him and it felt like he reached your belly in this position, Oz grabbed your feet and put them in a squat on either side of him before he helped you get a rhythm- you put your arms on either side of his head, palms touching the back of the couch.

Now, you were definitely sure the neighbors and everyone else in the building could hear you, especially because he started to bounce you up and down his cock like you were riding a horse and the horse was galloping too.

“You like that baby?” he asked you, grinning.

“Yes yes” Whenever his hands would bring you down him, your sensitive clit would touch him again and again- you couldn’t even imagine this being as good as it was.

He grabbed both of your ass cheeks from this position and moved you back and forth him-whenever he would bring you forward his dick would brush up against your g-spot, were you really gonna cum again?

“Fuck-I’m gonna cum” he muttered in your mouth, before his movements lost their rhythm and he pulled his cock just in time to spill himself all over the lower part your back.

You both stayed there for a few moments, breathing like you just ran a marathon.

He cleaned you up with a towel shortly after.

While inside the shower, with the warm water running down your back, realization finally dawned on you- you just made love to the man who you were having wet dreams about since your dad hired him as your driver.

You were butt ass naked riding this man in his living room, while his own driver had to be back with the food, it’s been about 30 minutes, where could this kid have gone to?

After you were done with the shower, you patted yourself dry a little bit and went inside the bedroom, Oz giving you a light smack on your butt as you walked past him to get dressed in the pjs you got for yourself to wear tonight. When you heard the shower starting, you left to get yourself a bottle of water from the fridge and went back to the bedroom to check your phone.

Sofia hasn’t texted you, obviously-she’s too busy with her great plans of taking over the family as the reigning matriarch-

Whatever, stop thinking about her.

After Oz’s driver, Victor, you think, came back- you guys ate some pizza and went to bed. Conversion over dinner was short, just a few “it’s good no?” and “Gosh the weather is starting to be very cold” from Oz and you and Victor being a mute. Surprisingly his driver slept in Oz’s apartment too- on the couch, on which you fucked his boss, yikes.

Oz’s sheets were satin -of course they were, and as he climbed in bed next to you and pulled you closer to him, he said something about your sister coming over tomorrow that you guys had to get your rest- right after saying your ‘good night’- you fell asleep.

Authors note: This smut scene is only the start, idk if you picked up but I still tried to make Oz seem as if he was in a power trip, the hair pulling his smooth talking etc etc. He does love her, dont worry. Anyways thank uuuu for reading, I tried to make it good :))))).

[lagataprrr]

Blame it on the Club's Playlist| Chapter 3 No Hands

S. Gojo x plus!size fem reader

Warnings: slight dry humping, heavy makeout session, Gojo being completely obsessed with reader, readers insecurities maybe getting the best of her AGAIN

Blame it on the Club's Playlist | Masterlist

Credits to @super-marvel-dc for the gojo divider!!! They have more on their profile🥹

a/n: I did not edit this so im sorry beforehand for any grammatical errors. I hope yall enjoy this one!!! I wanted to delve more into like how self conscious one can feel when it comes to intimacy and I think I did it a lot on personal experiences. I love yall and you are all so beautiful!!!!! also if you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know <333333

Also!! Should I name readers two friends??? Give me suggestions in the comments!!

should I make an actual playlist for this series?

Enjoy reading <3

"Please do not forget that I expect your drafts of the introduction and methods section of your study, and please for the love of God. Write your own work." The professor lets out a breath. "I am so tired of having to send half of my class to the honor council because they can't write their own paper. Make smart choices." As soon as she turns around to leave, everyone starts packing their stuff.

You quickly type in your project to your reminder app on your laptop before closing it. Slinging your bag over your shoulder and stepping out of the classroom you're met with one of your friends.

"Well there's my favorite friend, ever." She says, a sly grin on her face and you furrow your eyebrows.

"What is it?"

"I was just wondering if you texted the hottie you so sneakily went and did." You shake your head with a laugh as you both walked out of the science building. The slight chilly air on campus making you cross your arms over your chest.

"No, I have not."

And somehow, because the universe felt like exposing you. Your text ringtone chimed, twice. Your friend raising an eyebrow at you, and another chime making it a third message.

"Uh huh. Has he texted you by chance?" You roll your eyes, and pull your phone out of your pocket. Hottie with the body sent 3 new messages. "That's an interesting contact name."

"It was how he saved himself." You say quickly unlocking your phone and moving it away from your friends prying eyes.

Hottie with the body

how was your statistics class?

wait are u taking that class with Professor ibrahimbegovic?

she's so mean

You are quick to type in your responses, your friend watching with a curious look.

You:

It was alright, gotta finish up my draft for my study lol

and yesss

im guessing you've taken her class

"So did he text first or did you?"

"He did, but it's just talking about classes." You say, locking your phone and glancing at her. "What's with that face?"

"He's into you, babe"

You look away and scowl. "Not this again."

"Y/N, you have got to stop thinking that no guys can show you genuine interest because of your looks." She says earnestly, linking her arms with yours. "You're gorgeous, smart, and know how to throw that ass back like a Goddess."

"Oh my god." You let out a laugh.

"It's true!" Both of you reach the cafe and the bell chimes, "Go ahead and get a table I'll order our drinks." You nod and find a table near the window. Setting down your stuff and unlocking your phone again, this time scrolling through social media. You could hear the bell of the door chime again but you payed it no mind.

Your phone chimed again and you opened the message.

Hottie with the body

you look cute

Your head immediately looks up and you're met with Satoru standing at the entrance, his dark haired friend standing next to him. He shoots you a smile and heads your way. You don't miss the way your heart skips a beat as he makes his way towards.

"Hi." You greet, feeling your nerves pick up.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here."

"Oh yeah, totally not because everyone likes to come here after being grilled by hard professors." You joke and he chuckles.

"Oi, same thing as always?" His friend asks and Satoru nods. "Oh, you must be Y/N." His friend knowing your name catches you off guard.

He's talked about you? How cute!

More like embarrassing. Your mind battles with your thought.

You nervously laugh and nod. "I am. Yeah, t-that's me."

"I'm Suguru Geto, it's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." And he nods, heading to the line to the cash register.

"So, what's your study about?" Satoru questions as he takes the seat next to you. You catch a whiff of his cologne and fuck did he smell good. Your eyes went from his face and down to the rest of him, the black compression shirt he was wearing accentuated his form, and holy shit, were those abs?

He's way out of your league.

"Uh... well it's about the desensitization in peoples reactions to certain news headlines." Your eyes were still on him, going down to the grey sweatpants he wore, until you finally looked back up to his eyes. A smirk on his lips, clearly amused at your unashamed gaze.

"That's actually really interesting. For our class we had to do it about students anxiety levels between online and in person classes." You nod as he continued to explain, your eyes on his lips now.

Snap out of it you idiot, he's talking to you. Your mind practically yelled at you.

"Okay! One medium Y/F/D and a cheese danish." Your friend says, setting down your drink and treat as she takes the seat across from you. "Oh! Hello! You must be Satoru." She greets and you widened your eyes at her.

Satoru glances at you with his smirk again before nodding at her, introducing himself and making small talk.

Please swallow me Mother Earth.

"Oh! Y/N did you invite him to go out with us tomorrow?"

You tilted your head in confusion at this. "Tomorrow?" You did not have any plans tomorrow.

"Yeah, remember, we're supposed to go to the club again tomorrow." She says with a sly smirk. "We're trying to get this one to go out at least every Friday! She's a scholar but she needs to make memories."

"Sounds fun, you going?"

"No."

"Yes." Your friend and you say at the same time. You glare at her and she wiggles her eyebrows. "She is."

Satoru nods, but his eyes were on you the entire time. "I can meet you there, if you want." He's almost begging with the tone he used, his eyes on yours before glancing down at your lips, as you gnawed on that delicious lip he was literally aching to kiss again.

You felt heat creep up your neck, unsure. "She'd love it, in fact. Y/N since I'm picking up Y/F/N, you can ride with Gojo and meet us there!" She suggests, and Satoru nods in agreement.

Gojo? Who the hell is Gojo?

"I don't mind picking you up, if you're okay with it."

Gojo is his last name. Keep up.

"Sure." You respond almost unsure at your own response.

"Great. Then we'll see you tomorrow!"

And that is how you currently find yourself running around your apartment trying to make sure everything was perfect. You weren't expecting Satoru to come inside, but if it does happen, then at least everything would at least be decent. This time you were wearing a black romper dress, with matching black heels.

As you went back and forth in your apartment, your cat followed you, curious as to what could you possibly be doing. In the middle of your stress your phone chimed, and you let out a groan. Going to your room to grab it from the nightstand.

Satoru :):

I'm here.

but take your time, no rush at all

I know you're getting all prettied up

You felt heat creeping on your cheeks as you shake your head.

You:

I'm done, let me grab my ID and I'll come down

Satoru :):

sounds good, pretty

also

still can't believe you changed my contact name :(((((

You:

im sorryyyy

it was distracting

You made sure to lock your door and headed down, stepping onto the sidewalk looking for his blue BMW until you furrowed your brows. Looking down at your phone and starting to text him to ask if he was sure he put down the right address, until you heard a wolf whistle. Looking up to see a black Mercedes G-Wagon, the one that came out this year, at that. Satoru gets out of the car and gives you a boyish grin.

"Never fail to leave me breathless, pretty." You give him a wide smile, thanking him as your eyes raked over him. The white crewneck and black jeans doing wonders for him, along with his baby blue nike dunks. A pair of glasses sat on his nose and holy shit, did he smell good.

"You look good too." You reply, and he grins. Opening the passenger door for you and holding out his hand. You thank him as you take it and get in the car, unbeknownst to you Satoru glanced the light blue color that flashed from under your dress and he felt heat all over his neck. Closing the door and jogging back to the drivers side, he starts heading out in the direction of the club.

Your eyes glanced around the interior of the car, the smell of expensive leather making you wonder just how much does this cost. "How many cars do you own?" You ask absentmindedly, and then you slap a hand to your mouth. "Sorry, didn't mean it like that."

Satoru laughs, "It's okay. I don't mind." Giving you a reassuring smile. "I have two of them here, my other cars are in my house in Shibuya."

"Other cars?" You ask incredulously. "We are in different tax brackets I see." You joke and he lets out a laugh, a smile on your face at the sound.

You both continue talking throughout the ride until you reach the club valet, only to furrow your brows as it seems the security guards were waving people off. Satoru was quick to roll down your window.

"Oh, Mr. Gojo, unfortunately sir we have a couple of pipes that burst in the restrooms so we're closed until they get fixed."

"Okay, thanks man."

"Mr. Gojo?" You tease as he rolls up your window.

"He's just being nice."

"Mhmm." You say as you text your friends group chat.

The Three Muske(hoes)teers

You:

club is closed

Musketeer #1:

what??

so I got ready for NOTHING?

Musketeer #2:

bruh

im not even ready yet

but damn

Musketeer #1:

this was a sign for me to work on my backup assignments

Musketeer #2:

^same

we can go out next Friday

Musketeer #1:

Are u still with Gojo?

"Do you want to go eat something?" You glance up to see Satoru already looking through his phone.

"Are you hungry?"

He tilts his head at you with a smile. "I asked first."

"I am, are you?"

"I am." He nods and quickly puts in an address not the screen of the car. "I'll take you to this place that's nearby."

You nod and go back to your phone.

Musketeer #2:

she def is

she's probably not answering bc she's busy

sucking dick

Musketeer #1:

throat goat fr

Musketeer #2:

Hawk TUah

You:

ENOUGH

You lock your phone and glance out the window, heat on your cheeks and Satoru raises a brow at this. Though it's soon forgotten when you see the expensive restaurant that he's pulling into.

"Tapas Molecular Bar? Satoru..." You say as he puts the car in park. "This is expensive."

"I know." He says as he kills the engine, getting out of the car and heading to your side. Opening the door for you only for you to stay seated. His eyes meet yours and he gives you a smile. "I'm inviting."

"No, that's too much. I mean we barely know each other, and I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of this-"

"Y/N, I don't think that of you. I just want to spoil you with some good food. I would've preferred this to be a date, but, I don't think you want that. So I'm inviting you to eat."

You gulp nervously at his confession and maybe just maybe... "Do you want it to be a date?"

"I'd love it if it was. But I respect your wishes."

Carefully stepping out of the car and watching him close the door, you let out a shaky breath. "Okay... it's a friends date then. As friends!" You clarify and It was like an instant light switch, the way Satoru beamed at this. A wide smile showing his perfect pearly white teeth, eyes crinkling because of how wide he was smiling. "But! Just this one time... okay?"

"Great! Now stop over thinking, this is a friends date and I'm treating you to the best food." You laugh as he practically bounces as he walks, and you link your arm around his. Just to make sure he doesn't actually float away with the way he was acting.

The double doors were opened and the restaurant could not look any fancier, it made you feel so out of place.

Satoru was quick to let the host know he needs a table for two, and you were both escorted to a windows seat on the second level. With a beautiful look out to the city, making you grin. Opening the camera app and quickly snapping a picture of the view and sending it to your friends.

Satoru was so ecstatic as he pulled out the chair for you and pushed you in, rambling on and on about how you'll love the food.

You felt nervous, your hands felt sweaty and could almost feel your entire body jitter. You cleared your throat a couple of times, trying to calm down.

"Good evening, what can I get for you tonight?" The server sent you a polite smile, before her eyes landed on Satoru. Interest shining in her eyes as her whole demeanor changed into that as someone interested.

"I'd like a coke." Satoru answers as his eyes skim the menu.

"I'll just have a water."

"Great, I'll be right back with your water." The servers eyes never once lifted off the white haired man sitting in front of you.

As soon as your gaze landed on the prices of the menu you felt like throwing up on the spot.

All those zeroes are supposed to be there?! You mentally screamed.

"Stop thinking so hard on the price, and find something you want to eat." Satoru says, a soft smile on his lips as his eyes meet your own.

It gave you the chance to really study his eyes, the striking blue that genuinely exuded the gentle calmness of a lake. The rest of his features complemented him so well, from his pretty pink lips to the sharp jawline. His hair that stuck out makes him look so handsome, it made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

"It's thirteen courses?"

"Yup, and they're all so good."

"I think I read this menu and gained at least ten pounds." You joke, but Satoru didn't laugh.

"That's not true." He pouts, and tilts his head at you. "You seem to make a lot of comments about yourself negatively."

"It's a coping mechanism."

That's what you've told yourself your whole life.

"Stop that." You furrow your brows. "You're beautiful, no need for all of that."

As you were about to respond a glass of water was placed in front of you. Satoru sent you a wink and turned to the server, "We'll have the set menu with the five premium wine flight."

You read the menu to see what he was ordering and you choke on your spit. "Satoru-" He's ripping the menu from your hands and handing it to the server, shooing her away.

"Get ready to try the best food ever."

♡

Three and a half hours later you're sat in Satoru's car in a fit of giggles at one of his antics. The wine in your system making you feel more comfortable in your skin, as he drove you home.

"So, this friend date, how would you rate it?"

You thought for a second, raising a brow. "I'd say a 9/10."

Satoru dramatically gasps, as he parks in front of your apartment complex. "What took away that one point?"

"That's for me to know." You teased, unbuckling your seatbelt. You glanced at the apartment complex and back at Satoru. Chewing on your lower lip, and inhaling softly. "Thank you for tonight, Satoru. I had a lot of fun."

"So I take it, you enjoyed the friends date?"

You nodded with a smile, opening the car door and stepping out. "Do you..." You trailed off, a nervous tingle running up your spine as you glance back at the entrance of the complex to avoid his eyes. And that ridiculous boyish grin. "Maybe want to come in?"

He has a little pep in his step as he follows you up the complex and to your apartment. Praying to God that you left it as decent as possible. As soon as your front door opens your met with your cats excited meows as a greeting.

"Oh, who's this?" Satoru asks, bednign down to run his fingers over his soft fur.

"This is Luxio."

"Luxio? Like Pokemon Luxio?" He asks as he glanced up at you with a raised brow in curiosity. Your entire face heats up in embarrassment as you cringe, but nod nonetheless. "That's the most perfect name for him."

Your cat meows at this, purring loudly as he leans onto Satoru's hand, almost like agreeing with his statement.

"Well, anyways, welcome to my home." Your cat glances up, sort of narrowing his eyes at you and meows. "Oh, I'm sorry, welcome to mine and Luxio's home."

"Thank you for welcoming me." Satoru responds, scratching Luxio behind his ear.

Your phone chimes and you unlock it to see the dozens of messages from your friends.

The Three Muske(hoes)teers

Musketeer #1:

Im so mad the club is closed.

I wanted to shake some ass

Musketeer #2:

they posted their playlist! ive been listening to it while doing hw

lmao

https.clubinfinity.com/playlist

Musketeer #1:

LIFESAVER

"Oh hey! One of my friends just sent me the link to the playlist they were going to play tonight in the club." You say as you head over to the small stereo set next to the tv in your living room, turning it on and connecting your phone. "Do you want to drink something?"

"What you got?" Satoru still engrossed with your cat.

"Pretty sure there's a tequila bottle under my sink."

After fighting with your bluetooth connection for around four minutes, the stereo finally pinged and the robotic voice of 'the bluetooth device has been connected' you mentally cheered. Pressing play on the song that began to blast through the speakers.

Listen to this track, bitch

"Finally!" And Satoru laughs behind you, already heading your way with two shot cups he found next to the tequila bottle. Handing you one and pouring your shot along with his.

"Pretty sure me and Suguru got drunk for the first time with this song." He says and you giggle, putting down your phone.

He clinks his glass with yours, "cheers." Both of you throwing your heads back as you swallowed the burning liquor.

Girl the way you're movin', got me in a trance  DJ turn me up, ladies, this yo' jam (come on) I'ma sip Moscato and you 'gon lose them pants

Luxio took his place in his cat tower near the window of the living room as you and Satoru poured another shot, the tequila building up on the wine both of you drank earlier and the room feeling hot.

Then I'ma throw this money while you do it with no hands (leggo) Girl, drop it to the floor I love the way yo' booty go All I wanna do is sit back and watch you move And I'll proceed to throw this cash (Flocka, Waka Flocka, Waka Flocka)

With no shame, thanks to the liquor, you kick off your heels and throw your hands over Satoru's neck, dancing as you both laugh.

All that ass in yo' jeans Can Wale beat? Can Roscoe skeet? Long hair, she don't care

His hands finding comfort on your hips again as you moved, His gaze focused on you and only you. You grin at him before turning around, pressing against him.

When she walk she get stares Brown skin or a yellow-bone DJ, this my favorite song So I'ma make it thunderstorm Bud, want it Flocka, yeah Blow it, fuck it, I don't care

Your ass grinded against him, the alcohol burning through your blood and this time Satoru wasted no time to grind against you too. His jeans felt tight on his crotch in no time, feeling his cock harden at the sensual movements of yours that were driving him insane.

I'm tryna hit the hotel with two girls that swallow me Take this dick, wanna swallow, Pink Moscato got her freaky Ayy, you got me in a trance, please take off yo' pants Pussy pop on a handstand, you got me sweatin' Please pass me a fan, damn (Flocka, Waka Flocka, Waka Flocka)

And just like the song, Satoru definitely needed a fan. His entire body was heating up, and fuck did you look so good dancing on him again. And once again did you have him reeling behind you, when you suddenly bent down, hands on your knees and the view of you back so sensual bent made him groan.

Girl the way you're movin', got me in a trance  DJ turn me up, ladies, this yo' jam (come on) I'ma sip Moscato and you 'gon lose them pants Then I'ma throw this money while you do it with no hands (leggo) Girl, drop it to the floor I love the way yo' booty go All I wanna do is sit back and watch you move (ayy, ayy) And I'll proceed to throw this cash (Wale, uh)

His grip tightened on your hips, your ass moving in circles against his hard on. And fuck, that sensual look you sent him as you looked over your shoulder made him bite his lip. You sent him a flirty wink as you leaned back up hands now over his on your hips and swiveled them, pushing them with a precise pressure over his cock.

She said, "Look ma, no hands" She said, "Look ma, no hands" And, no darling, I don't dance And I'm with Roscoe, I'm with Waka I think I deserve a chance

"You're driving me insane." Satoru says in your ear, lips grazing the tip of your ear making a shiver run down your spine. Your panties were soaked, sticking on you and you're sure your juices were only seconds away from trailing down your thighs. His lips pressed soft kisses over your earlobe, slowly training down on your jaw and reaching the corner of your mouth. "You've been driving me insane since I met you." He confesses, pressing a particular almost feather light kiss near your lips.

You turn in his arms, once again your arms around his neck. Feeling his cock press against you. "Show me." You swear it was the alcohol. There's no way you just said that to this hot man standing in front of you.

You mentally ignore the loud and mean voice in your head, yelling at you about your physique and how you shouldn't.

"You sure? I don't want to scare you away." He whispers his blue eyes making your stomach churn in nerves.

"Show me, I..." You trailed off, bracing yourself in disbelief at your words. "I trust you."

Satoru wasted no time in pressing his lips against yours, his hands coming up to cup your face tilting your head up to be able to kiss you better. You let out a soft moan into his mouth, his tongue tracing all over your tongue.

"Fuck." He moaned, pressing hard kisses on your lips, bending his knees and now moving his hands to the back of your thighs.

"Satoru- wait!" He's lifting you up in no time, making you panic and wrap your legs around him tightly. Now his hands holding you under your ass, "Satoru I'm heavy, don't please."

"Shut up and tell me where your room is, baby." His lips sucking on the spot right below your ear, making you gasp.

"F-First door to the left." His legs move automatically, almost kicking your door down and closing it behind the both of you. His sucking and nibbling on the skin of your neck as he slowly lays you down, one arm still gripping your thigh to be pressed to his side while his other arm supported him from fully laying his weight on you. Satoru pulls away to look at you, and you looked so beautiful like this. Under him, a little breathless and lips starting to swell from kissing him so fervently. He could also notice how you slowly but sure started shrinking away from his gaze, and Satoru would not allow this. Not this time.

"You're so fucking stunning." He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. Your hands are fisting his shirt, letting out a whine into his mouth as he slowly ground his hips against your core. Your brows pinched up at the feeling, eyes looking into Satoru as you let you a gasp of pleasure. "So fucking beautiful," He presses kisses down your jaw, reaching all the way to your collarbone, sucking a bruise into your soft skin. Satoru slowly leaned back, leaning on his legs as he looked at you with lust filled eyes. His fingers ran over the romper you're wearing and reached to the neatly tied bow on the back of your neck that held the material on you. "Can I take this off, baby?"

Your eyes shown a glint of uncertainty, and Satoru was quick to cup your face and lean his forehead on yours. "Don't-" He was quick to whisper to you. "You're so beautiful, I want this. But do you?"

You let out a shaky breath, fiddling with a button of his shirt nervously. "I want this, but I just- I'm not really umm... confident without something covering me?" The alcohol was making you spill all the details. "Maybe not tonight?" Satoru not wanting you to feel uncomfortable he nods, placing a soft kiss on your forehead and moving off of you. Seeing his fallen look on his features made you feel so guilty, and you immediately felt so uncomfortable in your own skin.

"I think you should go."

Taglist: @bankaixx @shiftinghoe @uniquecutie-puffs @thewomans-stuff @plathsotherib @lanaismotherrrrrrr @fangirllookingforlife I love yall and thank you for reading <3

[jammydodger3579]

Young Lust pt. 3

Summary: Logan left, leaving Y/N very angry... (no spoilers hehe)

Read part 2 here || Masterlist here || Patreon here

A/N: Here's the third chapter! Hope yall love it. Lemme know what you guys think :))

18+ for mature audiances only.

Warnings: violence, sorry no smut this time. hopefully you're here for the plot haha.

Y/N was angry. She walked around the compound, a part of her hoping she would find Logan somewhere. Instead, she only found Yelena. She was angry as well. She wanted to fight. 

“Bastards! Thinking we’re too weak to stand up against the Widows!” Yelena shouted. She had a bottle of vodka in her hand. It was far too early to be drinking, but that didn’t stop her. 

“Logan left. He said he would stay and he left!” Y/N started, before realizing what she was saying. Yelena smiled slightly. 

“It is cute… You and him. I remember when it was like that between Buck and me. Of course, nothing has changed, he said he would wait for me as well and then he went and left. God I’m gonna rip his other arm from him when I see him, I swear” Yelena said, leaning against the kitchen counter. 

“It’s just casual, no strings. Really, it’s just sex” Y/N said, more telling herself than Yelena. 

“Mhm, sure… Ugh, men! We know the Widows better than anyone! They wouldn’t treat Nat like this” she said the last part softly, taking a swig of her drink. Her face scrunched up as she swallowed.

“You’re right… we know the widows better than anyone. We could find them. Go after them and fight” Y/N said, walking over to Yelena. She took the bottle out of her hands. “Come on, go sober up while I figure out where they are” Yelena nodded, walking off to her room.

Y/N went to the conference room where she’d left her file. She opened it up and started reading. There were outposts all over the world. Y/N felt daunted at the task at hand. She logged into a computer to assist her research. Surely Tony documented all this, she thought to herself. After a few minutes, she had two possible leads for where Logan and the other X-men could be. There seemed to be a bunch of recent movement in a warehouse on the outskirts of Madripoor so Y/N decided to look into that one more, leaving the other location for Yelena to check out. When Yelena walked into the room, freshly showered and in her tactical gear, Y/N handed a bunch of files to her. 

“Here, this is where you’re going. Sounds like the Avengers are there. I’m gonna check out this warehouse in Madripoor. Will you be okay alone?” Y/N said, standing up from her seat. Yelena nodded as she read through the files. 

“I just want to put a stop to this,” she said softly, before leaving the room. 

—

Arriving in Madripoor, Y/N found a place far enough away from the warehouse to land her helicopter. She walked to the warehouse, hiding in the tree line out of sight from the snipers that guarded the place. This has to be the right place, they wouldn’t have all this protection if it wasn’t she thought to herself. She counted ten guards. Y/N walked the perimeter of the warehouse, still hiding in the shadows. She found an opening in the fence and decided to slip inside. Watching her back, she looked around to make sure no one saw her. All clear she thought as she climbed onto a bin. She hoisted herself onto the flat roof of a room attached to the warehouse. There, she saw a man facing away from her. He held a gun and had a bulletproof vest on. Y/N used this opportunity to sneak up on the man. In one swift move, she put a hand over his mouth and the other used a taser to knock him out. Once he was out cold, Y/N took his gun and the bulletproof vest. One by one, she swiftly and quietly took out all ten guards. 

“Roger, come in, are you there Roger?” a walkie-talkie, belonging to a knocked-out man, sounded off, giving Y/N a slight fright. She was on edge. She still felt angry with Logan, but she couldn’t help but worry for him. “We have a problem, Rog-” the voice was cut off by a scream and then silence. Suddenly, gunfire started going off inside the warehouse. She peered through a window and saw him, Logan, along with Kitty, Bobby and Rogue. They were fighting off a bunch of men with guns. Y/N scoffed, knowing that guns do nothing to Logan. She smashed the window in and crawled on top of a cage. There were girls inside, huddled together. Some were crying over the horror show that was displayed before them. Logan was stabbing and slicing these men down, killing them relentlessly. Y/N climbed down the side of the cage and, using the gun she had, blasted the lock off the cage door. 

“You can’t save them!” a man yelled before getting his throat sliced open by Logan. That's when he noticed Y/N. He was taken aback. Guilt washed over his face. Just as the two made eye contact, a blast went off, throwing Y/N back against a brick wall. Her head hurt. The room was spinning. She felt the back of her head. When she looked at her hand, there was blood. Then she noticed her pants, on fire. The searing white hot pain sinks in causing her to scream. She blinked, looking around the room. Her vision was blurry but she could make out Kitty, Bobby and Rogue all fighting the girls, trying their best to not seriously hurt them. Logan was near the door, fighting off more guards, their guns blasting into his chest. Shaking, Y/N patted the fire out on her legs. Her pants were melted to her shins. She stood up and took two steps forward. A loud groan left her as she moved. 

“Logan-” she looked over at him before a foot collided with her head. 

Images of Dreykov’s men flooded Y/N’s mind. She found herself walking the corridors of the Red Room. She found a sterile-looking room with an operating table in the middle. There was a body on the table. Y/N walked towards it and pulled the sheet off the body's face. She gasped and stood back. She was staring down at her own lifeless, dead body. Her skin was pale, her hair looked dull, and her lips were blue. The head of the body turned to look at Y/N. It started to speak. 

“Worthless!! Replaceable!! Disposable!! Unloveable!!” It kept repeating those four words over and over. Y/N put her hands over her ears and sank to the floor, trying to get the image of her own dead body out of her head. 

“She wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t left her!” Y/N woke up to Yelena’s voice piercing through her head. Y/N was in a hospital bed. She had an IV in her left arm and monitors all over her chest. There was a beeping coming from the machines in the room. Logan was sitting next to the bed with a disgruntled look on his face. 

“Hey…” her voice was rough as she spoke. Logan looked over at her and his face softened. He moved his seat closer to Y/N. 

“Hey, you’re awake,” he said, reaching a hand out to hold Y/N’s. She looked around the room for Yelena, but she wasn’t there. 

“Yelena?” 

“She just stormed out. Don't think she likes me much” Logan said. She nodded, looking around the room gently. 

“Don’t take it to heart, she doesn’t like anyone,” it hurt to speak. Had she been screaming? “How long was I out for?” 

“A few days”  His thumb was rubbing circles over her hand. “What were you thinking? Putting yourself in danger like that?” he spoke softly. 

“What was I thinking? You left me. You said you would stay, we would fight it together but you left me!” Y/N looked away as she spoke. She didn’t know why she was crying, and she certainly didn’t want Logan to see. 

“I didn’t want you to get hurt-” 

“Well too late, Logan!” 

“Hey, how’s- oh sorry,” Tony said, walking into the room. Dr Jean Grey was with him. She looked like she didn’t want to be there. Y/N and Jean weren’t friends, but they also didn’t hate each other. They simply just didn’t get along. Maybe it was because Jean knew what Y/N thought of Logan, but she wouldn’t know. Jean walked around the bed to look at the monitors, writing down notes on a clipboard she had in her hand. 

“It’s fine, Logan was just leaving,” Y/N said, looking over at Logan. He had a hurt look on his face, but he sighed, nodded and left. It was awkward to watch. Tony looked around the room before deciding to sit down. 

“I know it’s not my place but I think you need to give him more credit. It was a group decision to leave you and Yelena out. I know, bad team leader on my end, but we all know what this means for you. We just wanted to protect the safety of our team,” Tony spoke slowly, checking in Y/N’s face to make sure she heard what he was saying. 

“I’m not an Avenger, that was Nat. You guys need to stop comparing us to her!” she put emphasis on her words, but didn’t raise her voice. Tony nodded. 

“We’ll try, it’s just that… well we miss her, and she wouldn’t want her sisters to die trying to take down Dreykovs followers” 

“If you think that, then maybe you didn’t know Natasha that well” 

“I don’t know Logan that well, but I know he cares for you. We all do. Stop shutting people out” Tony said gently, patting Y/N’s hand. He got up and left, leaving her alone with Jean. She went to the end of the bed. 

“I need to check that you’ve got feeling in your legs,” she said, lifting the blanket over her legs. Y/N looked down at her legs. They were swollen, and covered in red and brown patches. There was a clear layer of second skin over the burns. Jean used the end of her pen to touch Y/N’s foot. She sighed, full of relief. She could feel her feet and move her toes. “Awesome. Well, everything looks good. No blurry vision?” Y/N shook her head. Jean nodded and wrote something on the clipboard. She moved towards the door. She was about to say something but hesitated. “Logan sat next to you the entire time… just thought you’d like to know,” she said, before exiting the room. 

Y/N sighed, lying back down in the bed. She brought her hands up to her face and rubbed her eyes. This supposed “casual” relationship was becoming too far known around the team. A team that Y/N technically wasn’t a part of, no matter how many times Tony suggested it. She didn’t want to be an Avenger. She couldn’t see herself teaming up with them to take down aliens and gods. She just wanted a quiet life, where she could live in peace and grow old. Where no one was trying to kill her and she was loved. And maybe Logan was there too. Guilt washed over her. “I shouldn’t have kicked him out” she muttered to herself. It wasn’t long before she drifted back off to sleep. 

“Worthless!! Replaceable!! Disposable!! Unloveable!!”

Y/N sat up in bed. The lights had been dimmed, but she had no way of knowing the time. Logan was back, sleeping in a chair in the corner of the room. He snored ever so slightly, causing Y/N to smile. “Logan?” she whispered-yelled. His eyes fluttered open and met with hers. 

“Hey-”

“I’m sorry… for telling you to leave. I don’t blame you for what happened” she said before Logan could say anything. He pressed his lips together, clearly thinking about what to say. “I like you, a lot I think, and just couldn’t sit at home imagining the worst happening to you. Healing factor or not” Logan smiled. 

“I like you too, since the moment I saw you” He walked over to Y/N. She wriggled over in the bed and patted the spot next to her, inviting Logan to lie down with her. He got on the bed gently, making sure to keep a clear distance from her legs. She snuggled into his chest, his shirt smelling of pine and cigars. Y/N loved that smell. 

“So much for keeping it casual,” she said, before drifting off to sleep. For once, she had a peaceful night's sleep.  

Next Chapter

[polarolds]

hiii i js wanna know if you have any ellabs fic recommendations?

hi anon! hoo boy i definitely have a few! here are some favourites that come to mind:

Unbroken by thedreadslayer

nobody is surprised, yall know i'm a slut for this fic as i've drawn fanart for it multiple times (and still have doodles and full ass comic pages that i haven't shared to tumblr).

This is THE ellabs fic in my mind. The character moments, the dialogue, the settings, the atmosphere... the slowburn is SO well-written. it is basically tlou 3 for me because reading it really captures the feeling of playing the actual games 😭😭 still ongoing but so many chapters to enjoy. There are SO many great key moments (don't want to spoil, but i'm looking at you chapters 10, 17, 21 and 26), but even the small, quiet interactions stand out to me. have admittedly re-read it more than once,,, maybe more than twice,,,

two hands digging in each other's wounds by michirukaioh

i believe this was the first ellabs fic i've read!! and it is a classic. Love this one for the progression of the ellabs relationship, but also for dear sweet lev and his interactions with ellie. Love the big reveals towards the end of the story with a new character that is introduced - keeping it vague because of spoilers. And the beach scene near the end is chef's kiss iykyk.

i've admittedly not been keeping up well with the sequel because i've been super busy and wanted to marathon the whole thing at some point, but would recommend checking it out too! both parts are complete :)

The Way Sorrow Tastes by painted__black

really interesting premise where abby and lev show up in Jackson at the start of the story and we see how all the survivors of tlou2 deal with the fallout. the continuation of the use of abby's dreams as a manifestation of her trauma/guilt was also interesting to me. starts pretty dark and gets even darker as we move further in the story, but still very good all the same. sadly idk if the story will be continued :( one can hope

oh, and I drew something for this one too! hehe

tail lights by junewax

another goodie and i loved how Cat (a character only mentioned in tlou2) comes into play in this story. i really like the feel and atmosphere of this story idk how else to describe it - it just captures a certain vibe that i really dug yknow? completed fic.

Both Sides Now by Fuckingvideogames

AU where ellie leaves Jackson after finding out the truth about the FireFlies from Joel and stumbles into Seattle. i LOVE this concept so much and this was such an interesting read. we get some nice early ellabs moments, and also get to see ellie interact with the Salt Lake Crew. sadly another fic which i don't think will be finished, but very much still worth checking out!!

and since this post is getting kind of long, here are links to some other fics i really enjoyed!

iron to the core by houndstoothed

bone chill by houndstoothed

Afterlife by maharetr

Assumptions by inspoburst

hope you find something you like fellow ellabs-enjoying anon! :'D and thanks for the ask <3

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Apr 2nd

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1. hi there, can yall help me find a modern au fic where wwx was kicked out of the jiang household and he started to spend his nights within his school premesis? i remember lqr, lxc and nmj being the ones to find him one night. thank you for yalls hard work 💐

FOUND? Where is home? by SpicyRamen_10969 (M, 80k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, High School, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Coming Out, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Supportive LQR, Good Sibling LXC, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, JC Being an Asshole, Possible Smut?)

~*~

2. Do you know fiction where wei ying travelled back to past but lan zhan feeling also travel back.

FOUND? 💖 Come Back to Me by s6115 (M, 9k, wangxian, time travel, fix-it, soulmates)

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3. Nsfw ask but this fic was one where wwx and lwj helps jc and lxc (jc was the one asking) how to have fun/ painless sex. They try multiple times but end up getting cockblocked or something of that sort @thatperson0-0

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4. Hi! I'm looking for a fic where during the Lotus Pier seige there is an array or something set up that protects it and results in a baby for WWX and LWJ that is about the same age as A-Yuan - they already know (can't remember how). As a result of that array, the baby, A-Yuan, and people involved can shift into animals. Thank you! @hpikachu2003

FOUND! 💖 Magical Marriage Ribbons Series by starandrea (Varies, 1m, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Accidental Marriage, Fluff, Happy Ending, Telepathic bond, Kink Negotiation, Family Drama, Magical Pregnancy, Dual Cultivation, Shapeshifters, Modern with Magic, Immortality, Yilling Wei Sect) has LWJ continuously struggling to vocalize nearly ANY of his sexual wants even well after wangxian get together

~*~

5. looking for a fic that I thought I'd saved and hope i didn't dream it up... in this fic, I think wwx and lwj aren't tgt, but slept tgt? wwx finds out he is expecting, and instead of letting lwj know, he goes to the wens for refuge (I believe granny wen is mentioned in the description!) I don't know much else, other than it might be a modern au fic. thank you!

FOUND? Nothing but your heart by airinshaw (E, 21k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O Dynamics, Implied Mpreg, First Time, Getting Together, Angst and Drama, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anal Sex, Whump, Breeding Kink)

FOUND? The Winner Takes It All by YilingSani (M, 46k, WangXian, Modern AU, Single Parent WWX, Old Friends, One Night Stands, No Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Forgiveness, Second Chances, Inspired by Mamma Mia! (Movies) Teen Pregnancy, Mpreg, mention of miscarriage, Birth Trauma, amniotic fluid embolism) although Granny Wen isn't in the list of characters but she features in the story?

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6. Hi i am searching for a particular fic but it seems to have disappeared on me so the storyline was that LWJ and WWX were married but WWX wasn't happy in the marriage and LWJ comes to know this by hearing it from some where that WWX said so when he had gone to a flower house/brothel and then LWJ calls upon WQ to confirm if what he heard was true which she does and so he makes a decision to go leave planning to head to Yilling or CR and when he was travelling he encounters XXC and SL but doesn't reveal his identity of being WWX's husband just says that he is a disciple of the Lan and the 3 of them work on this night hunt where out of 3 wishes one would be fulfilled, is a curse related to i think some sisters also JWY was the emperor and WWX's post was either a general crown prince or a marquis and after WWX comes to know about LWJ leaving asks LWJ's maids who go with LWJ whenever he visits CR if they know where has he gone— with him also going to CR in search for LWJ (unsure) and JWY in a scene tells WWX some thing along the lines of that it wasn't probably also LWJ's choice, was being pressured into the marriage or so. most likely was muti-chaptered don't remember much of it and was on ao3. Thank you. @1p1rose1

FOUND! 💖 Eat, Pray, Night Hunt by Itszero (G, 29k, wangxian, Arranged Marriage, Reconciliation, Getting Together, YLLZ WWX, Misunderstandings, Royalty, Historical Inaccuracy, Happy Ending, Fluff, Imperial AU, palace au, Dual POV, Fluff and Angst, Historical Fantasy, Xianxia but also court drama ya know?)

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7. Hi! I'm looking for a CQL!verse fic in which people can choose to tie a red string between them when they get married (sort of a soulmate au, but not really). When wei wuxian falls off the cliff to his death, lwj ties a string between them. when wwx comes back, the string is how lwj recognizes him. when the canon plot is over, lwj thinks he has to cut the string between them. i think this fic might have been deleted, though, but any help you can give would be welcome. thanks

FOUND! 💖 a trail of blood to find your way back home by blackelement7 (T, 19k, wangxian, JC & WWX, what if a soulmate string au, but without the soulmates aspect of it, a reflection on the nature of marriage, WWX is full of regrets, so is LWJ, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication, JC & WWX Reconciliation, JC is trying his best but words are hard and his brother is stupid, Siblings, Canonical Character Death, but it's just WWX, accidental 3zun feels, WWX as the most unreliable of narrators)

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8. hi! thx so much for your work in the fandom. i'm looking for a fic where wwx is a sect leader and towards the end of the fic (I think) he's at a cultivation conference where someone tries to set fire to his rooms and he and lwj go into a qiankun box. i think at the very end wwx summons a phoenix born from the flames of his burned rooms. thx so much!

FOUND? A Phoenix Rising - An Untamed Story by AitchNKay (E, 130k, WangXian, The Untamed (TV) Ending, Angst, Porn With Plot, Anal Sex, jerking off, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian, junior ducklings, Oral Sex, Post canon, Not everyone is gay, Family is everything, so many feelings, Introduction of New Characters, porn with feeling, Friendship, Healing, Suibian/Bichen/Chenqing/WangJi, 3 weddings and a funeral)

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9. hello, thanks for your work!

i was trying to search for this fic where wwx from post-canon travels back in time and is in around the yllz time, he keeps doting on lwj and yllz (past wwx) gets a bit jealous but doesn't know what to name it. he refuses to believe that he married lwj in the future and the future wwx gets mad at him and tells him not to hurt lwj. can't seem to find it anywhere.

FOUND? From the Future for the Past by friedchickenlord (G, 27k, wangxian, time travel, fluff, humor, love confessions, pining, happy ending, denial)

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10. Hi buddy, I have one request. If you have came across a wangxian fic where Wei Wuxian is reincarnated and came to Gusu with Lan Wanji ( I think LWJ is the chief cultivator here) and realised that LWJ was getting marriage proposals from around the (cultivation) World a lot. And he propose to conduct a competition to find the most suitable candidate from the available lot while being secretly heartbroken that he could not have LWJ. I'm not sure if it's ABO or not. A-yuan also has an important role in this fic. Plz help..... @grrumpywoof

FOUND? a morbid longing by sunandseas (E, 24k, WIP, WangXian, Mutual Pining Misunderstandings, Porn with Feelings, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega LWJ, Alpha WWX, Bottom LWJ, Possessive WWX, BAMF WWX, Protective WWX, Hurt LWJ, Dark WWX)

is that the one where the suitors have to steal a token from lwj, and lwj gives it to wwx, but wwx thinks it was just the gusu jade access pass and was really sad about someone winning the token?? 🤔 (based on the comic about the witch's cat?)

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11. Hii, I'm looking for a fic. It was about wwx wished that he does not exist in the life of people he love, because of what happens with jiang yanli, jin ling, jiang cheng and everyone he loves. So he live, but not with his parents, jc,lwj and so on. And there's one time his parents come to an inn and met wwx, they dont know who wwx is because they never have a kid. But wwx and his father, has a similar face, so when he look at wwx, he feel like wwx is his kid that he never have.. I hope that u know this fic is, because I have been trying to remember where and what fic it is but I cant. Thankyou for your hard work.

Pretty sure #11 is a twitter thread by cerbykerby but I don't have a twitter account any more and thus searching is hard

FOUND? For 11, this is the cerbykerby fic unrolled

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12. heyy admins! i'm looking for a fic where wei ying's parents turns out to be alive. from what i remember they somehow escaped the burial mounds after many years and they learned about wei ying from people then they made their way to the cloud recesses and they stayed there a bit. thanks in advance! <3

FOUND? The Long Winding Road Home by Admiranda (T, 13k, CSSR/WCZ, wangxian, flash forwards, Time Travel, Post canon, WWX's parents come to post canon mdzs, not for JC fans, fluffy family reunions, mocking LQR to his face, mocking JC to his face, wild rumors abound)

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13. Hello, I was wondering if you could help me find a fic. It was a pacific rim and atla fusion au where I think wwx was transferred to the station lwj was at. Then they were attacked and wangxian were either forced or called to go into a Jaeger together to attack the kaiju. @xo-minx

FOUND? The Weight of the World by KouriArashi (T, 67k, WangXian, XiYao, Pacific Rim Fusion, Robots, Monsters, robots fighting monsters, Family, Romance, Developing Relationship, Angst, (but not about the romances), Hurt/Comfort, Politics, Happy Ending)

FOUND? Thunder's Coming Over Me by phnelt (E, 38k, WIP, WangXian, Avatar & Benders Setting, Pacific Rim Fusion, temporary character death (wwx's), Angst with a Happy Ending, Action & Romance)

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14. Hello ! First of all, THANK YOU for your hard work on this blog and WangxianFicRecs, I really enjoy my time on both ! :) This is a first for me so I hope I'm asking properly (otherwise, please, excuse me^^'). I'm looking for a fic I think was on a list in FicRecs last month but I can't seem to find it back... I just skimmed through it at the time and thought that it was great and that I would come back to it later... except I forgot to bookmark it and had not luck searching my AO3 history so far :'(. It was a Wangxian AO3 fic and the only thing I remember clearly is a sentence where Wei Ying thinks about the way Lan Zhan smells and says that he decides LZ's scent smells like love.

Aaaaand I'm sorry because I know this isn't much, but if by any chance someone happened to know which fic it is and I could stop racking my brain, I would be super grateful for that ! :)

I wish you all a wonderful day/night !

I was #14 in the April 2nd FicFinder. I finally went through all of February posts and found again the fic I was looking for! It was in fact in your Crossdressing comp and it wasn't about LZ smelling like love but LZ's kiss tasting like love 😅.

Anyway, here's the fic : only the dead (have seen the end of war) by comforting_monachopsis.

Sorry to have bothered you and thanks again ! ❤️

FOUND? only the dead (have seen the end of war) by comforting_monachopsis (T, 42k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, temporary amnesia, BAMF WWX, sad LWJ, grief/mourning, loneliness, mild gore, secret identity, loss of identity, identity porn, angst, humor, crossdressing)

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15. Hi!! For next ficfinder, can you help me find this two fic?

A) a fic where Qin su is the one that resurrected Wei Wuxian and she give him a detail instruction. I remember a scene where Wei Wuxian try to seduce Jin Guangyao so that he can get out from Koi tower. If I'm not mistaken, Qin su and Lan Xichen is best friend and Xichen really sad and disappointed at himself for not realising his best friend is long dead. There are also part where wwx try to sunburn Qin su face so it become unrecognisable.

B) a fic where Lan Qiren is mistakenly drink wine in his teapot and he is doting to Wei Wuxian and told about marriage arrangement that has been sign by Cangse Sanren and Lan Wangji when they are a little kid.

Thank you and Have a nice day😘 @chibiizzy

15A)

FOUND! The Tales of Despereaux (CH 1-23) by stiltonbasket (T, 50k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, JC & WWX, JYL/JZX, JC/WQ, Canon DivergenceAdditional Warnings In Author's Note, major ships are listed but others might pop up!)

15B)

FOUND! 🔒 Who gave Lan-xiansheng alcohol?! by HeloSoph (Not Rated, 14k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, CSSR & LQR, CSSR/WCZ, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Canon Divergence, POV LQR, Drunk LQR, WWX is Loved, Jiāng Family Bashing, YZY Bashing, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Engaged WangXian, Gūsū Lán Forehead Ribbon, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Character Death, Self-Indulgent, Wedding Planning, Fluff and Humor, Married WangXian, Good Uncle LQR, CSSR & LQR Friendship)

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16. Hi I really need help but there’s this wangxian fic where basically lan zhan keeps complimenting Wei wuxian and wwx tells him he has to give him notice before doing it so lan zhan gives him a time frame or writes him a letter etc. and i cannot for the life of me find it please help me find it 😭😭😭 @vilethot

FOUND! Content Warning: Romance by Ariaste (M, 5k, WangXian, BDSM, Praise Kink, nonsexual kink, which turns into sexual kink, wwx's canonical fetishes, Kink Negotiation, basically my ongoing mission to demonstrate to fandom that Kink Can Be Unbearably Soft Actually)

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17. Hi! How are y'all doing? for the next fic finder, I'm looking for a modern au, no magic, where fem!wwx goes to live with lwj after she turns 18 and her main goal is to get together with lwj so she's very shameless to the point that lwj has to tell her that he'll have to set rules if she continues like that, and asks if she's aware that he's a man

anyone knows it? I'm scared that it was deleted. Thanks! I hope y'all have a wonderful day!

FOUND! tell me what's your motive by sweetlolixo (E, 7k, wangxian, F/M, Modern, Genderbending, Female WWX, Male LWJ, Penis In Vagina Sex, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex, Breeding Kink, Masturbation, Size Difference, Stomach Bulge, JYL and LWJ best friends agenda, Older LWJ)

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18. Fic Finder: I'm looking for a fic where LWJ is cursed to his young child self. In Yiling, WWX sees a Lan boy with the forehead ribbon surrounded by people, and then he recognizes child LWJ. Child LWJ refuses to leave the nearby inn because he's waiting for his uncle and brother, who do not come. WWX waits with him and says he was a student of LQR, but LWJ doesn't believe him because his uncle did not teach when LWJ was young. Eventually WWX convinces LWJ to go to the burial mounds with him, and he writes a letter to LXC but he isn't sure if LWJ will recognize his brother as an adult.

Thanks in advance!

FOUND? I think this fic is the deleted "Staying close to you" by Venon. I couldn't find it on the wayback machine but I have a copy.

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19. Hi! I forgot to bookmark this time travel fic and the only thing i can remember is he came back during lan qiren’s class and he cried and suddenly fainted?? thank you!! @gideonmorningstar

FOUND? Wish Me Luck by Starlight1395 (Not Rated, 164k, WangXian, Fix It, Time Travel, Angst, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Nightmares, Slight fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Lots of tears, cannon levels of blood/violence, Minor Character Death, secondary character death, Sibling Bonding, semi mild smut, mild Self-harm)

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20. hello!! i’m looking for a thread fic on twitter. lwj is feral alpha who’s been checked into a rehabilitation centre. i don’t remember exactly but there was yiling in the name. wwx is his assigned omega social worker who is the only one who can calm him down and the only one lwj listens to. i can’t remember all the details but I remember wwx giving lwj a rabbit and donkey soft toy. wwx would also play chess with him occasionally. lwj’s episode was triggered by his uncle’s discussion of getting him a mate. eventually lwj gets loose, wwx gets pregnant and gets in trouble for it even though there was some foul play. wen ning is also an alpha at the centre and wen qing visits him occasionally. thank you so much 💖 i never got to finish it and i really want to know how it ended!!

FOUND! come closer (i might not bite) by celerydragon (E, 4k, wangxian, WIP, A/B/O, Medical AU, Feral Behavior, Drama, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Mpreg) is being posted to ao3 now / this the original twitter thread for the rest of the story. unfortunately the thread is broken in a few parts so i’m glad the writer is starting to move it to ao3

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[lalachat]

"And there you were..."

Author's note: WITERLLY WHAT THE HECK GUYS!!! You have made my heart so full! Almost 100 notes in under 24 hours😭❤️ yall gon make me cry! I am truly and utterly grateful that y'all are liking it so far! I'm a little insecure with my writing, but it's only because i'm so new. I am open to any kind of advice you can give me or constructive criticism that will help make this fic better for you readers. With practice comes improvement!! Also, look i'm evolving with my tumbler knowledge and added dividers, a tag list, and a masterlist that i hope works! Look at me go😭🤧 ANYWHOOOO... are y'all ready for this one?? I fully planned on posting this next week but i'm too freaking excited! Eheheheh writing this had me giggling and kicking my feet! Enjoy my loves<3

Summary: You and Lucien decided to leave Rita's after discovering your mates kissing each other. With no reason to stay, Lucien offers you the comfort of his home and a glass of your favorite wine to help decompress the stress of both your mates. How could you say no?

This is for all my Lucien girlies❤️

Warnings: usage of profanity, sexual tension growing between Lucien and y/n, some fluff bc why not, sharing a bed, potential grammar and spelling issues

Word Count: around 3,350

Chapter 2: "Scream my name..."

As you and Lucien walked out of Rita’s, neither of you had noticed two pairs of eyes lingering watching you both leave after they heard Rhys’ commotion questioning Mor into oblivion about what the hell was going on. Mor had almost smirked at the fact that all it took was for you and Lucien to leave together to make Az and Elain both glance at y’alls receding figures. If it weren't for Rhysand in her face, she well would have. Even as Rhys is trying to get her to talk, she could not wait to tell you the plan had worked! Even if it was just a glance, it was still something! Small progress is still progress, right? Oh, she wishes she could have Feyre paint their reactions to you two leaving because it was priceless. Maybe Mor would and give it to you for solstice? But for now, she has a very upset cousin to deal with.

You and Lucien stopped at a local market to grab snacks and your favorite wine for your impromptu evening at his apartment. As you walk out of the market towards his place, Lucien can’t help but to ask about Azriel. 

“So... The shadowsinger is your mate huh?” Lucien asks while tucking his hands in his front pockets glancing to your face as he asked you his question. 

“Yeah... When I first met Az, it was when Rhys had offered me a room to stay in for a night. Rhys and I had quite literally run into each other a moment prior. I was traveling through the night court and was so distracted by the beauty that I ended up running right into Rhysand. I had knocked his freshly bought paint that he was planning to give Feyre all over us. I felt so bad that I kept offering to pay him for the cost of the paint along with his clothes, but he kindly refused. I had no mental shields back then, so he easily saw I was a nomadic traveler that had no place to stay or wash up. He offered me a room in his home for a night and a training over mental shields as payment, and I kindly accepted. I hadn't had a nice place to stay in such a long time. But, little did I know it would not be my peace and that my mate lived in the home I was about to stay at.” you said as you walked in tandem with Lucien down the streets towards his apartment.  

“Always so generous that high lord. And, I assume you know who my mate is then?”  

“That he is. And yes, I do. If you don’t mind me asking, why doesn’t she want the bond?” 

“The same reason your mate doesn’t see yours... She’s too busy being enamored by him to try and pursue or explore things with me.” He finds a rock on the pavement to kick along as you two walk. Lucien kicks it towards you. 

“At least she knows you’re her mate.” you shrug, kick the rock back, and Lucien chuckles. 

“You have a point, and Azriel would know if you would just tell him.” 

“Yeah, but would it change anything between us? Probably not. It would most likely end up like you and Elain if I told him...” Lucien stops and goes silent for a moment. “No offense of course!” 

“None taken. How did we even end up in this mess? You and I both having mates who do not reciprocate any kind of feelings toward us because they like each other is almost ironic.” He laughs at this situation you are both in. 

“You know now that you're saying it out loud, it is quite ridiculous.” You giggle. For a moment you had completely forgotten about Azriel and Elain. Lucien once again, being so alluring that you forgotten what you had just seen at Rita’s.  

Lucien glances at you and finally takes in your appearance. Your cheeks start to turn rosy at the sight of his eyes trailing over your body. Your dress still leaving little imagination for Lucien. Your body grows hot from the sudden attention. 

“He’s absolutely dumb as rocks for not looking at you tonight, because you look ravishing.” and gives you a playful wink. 

“Lucien you're just saying that to make me feel better.” 

“Y/n I kid you not, I truly mean it. You are one of the most beautiful females I have ever seen!” 

“Thank you Lucien, that means so much more to me than you will ever know,” as you look into his eyes and smile at him. He stares at you, smiles and dips his head to say you're welcome before continuing. 

“Almost there, it is right around this corner.” 

“Perfect, because I am freezing and in dire of more alcohol. I am too sober for all this emotional shit,” you say as Lucien laughs at your comment and you both turn the corner. 

“And we're here! Home sweet home!” 

You walk into his apartment and your senses are engulfed by the smell of cinnamon sticks, crisp apples, cedarwood, and roasted chestnuts. It felt like home. Everything in his apartment felt so warm and welcoming. You sat down the groceries you had gotten on the center table near the living room couch, and slowly took in his décor. You were surprised everything looked so coordinated. His apartment was filled with warm colors like reds, oranges, and yellows. It reminded you of your brief stay in the autumn court. You wondered if that’s why Lucien decorated it this way. Maybe he had found a sense of belonging in those colors. While you were taking in his apartment, you hadn’t noticed him grabbing you a change of clothes to wear along with a warm woolly blanket.  

“Here, these are for you to change into, and this is for you when you get cold later because I know you,” Lucien handed you the clothes and sat the blanket down on the couch. “The bathroom is through the hall on your left! Let me know if you need anything.” 

“Okay, thank you!” 

You started walking to the bathroom, the floor creaking beneath your feet as you opened the door. You stepped inside and quietly shut the door. You could hear Lucien in the kitchen popping the bottle of wine and pouring you both glasses, but what you forgot to realize is how you were going to take this dress off. After Mor’s last minute dress change, you had to call Nuala and Cerridwen to help you into it. You had not thought about how you were going to get it off. You slightly began to panic. “It’s okay... you can do this. It’s just a dress, can't be that hard right?” You tried to maneuver your arms into reaching the back of your dress but to no avail, Mor had to pick the most complicated thing you have ever seen. She was right though, this dress did look hot as fuck on you. You struggled a few times more before huffing and giving up. So, you had to do what you had to do...  

“LUCIEN, I NEED HELP!” You could practically hear him sprinting down the hall to get to you in the bathroom. Without thinking he pushes the door wide open. 

“WHAT IS IT? Are you alright?” His face scans you for any kind of injuries but finds none. The only thing he finds is you still in that damn dress that drove him crazy. “Why are you not in the clothes I gave you?” 

“First of all, I could have been indecent. Didn’t your mother ever teach you to knock! Secondly, you see, as a male you would not understand this predicament, but I cannot get my dress off by myself. I need help unfortunately... I swear this is all Mor’s fault!” 

Cauldron boil him... “So, you mean to tell me, you screamed my name to help you with your dress because you cannot do it yourself?” 

“Yes...” you can hear Lucien sigh. 

“There are much better ways to scream my name y/n and you know that but for the sake that you are quite literally stuck in that dress, I’ll help you. Turn around.” Your face turns hot at his comment, and you swat at his arm. 

“LUCIEN! This is not funny!” he can't help but chuckle at your flustered state. 

“Okay, okay, you being stuck in a dress is not funny. Got it! Now stop being stubborn and turn around so I can help.” 

“No, wait! You have to close your eyes!” 

“Y/n, how am I supposed to help you with your dress if I cannot see? Besides you act like I haven't seen you naked.” Again, your face betrays you as your cheeks turn bright red at the thought. You huff. 

“Fine, okay you can keep your eyes open but no funny business Mr. Vanserra. I am watching you!” Lucien chuckles at how flustered he had made you and he is living for it.  

You slowly turn your back to him and lock eyes with him through the bathroom mirror. Lucien takes the back of his knuckles and traces them delicately down the skin of your spine, almost like if you were made of glass and that you'd break at the slightest touch. His hand radiates so much warmth you must stop yourself from letting out a couple of sighs. The entire time he does this his eyes do not leave from yours through the mirror. His hand finally reaches the back of your dress, and he looks away to start undoing the claps. Thank the mother because his stare was driving you crazy. Each clasp he undoes, he makes sure to take his sweet time on. He doesn't miss the way your skin crawls with goosebumps at the slightest touch of his hands against your back. Gods, you had missed his fiery touch. It had felt like forever since he last touched you.

You slowly felt the dress getting heavier with each clasp undone. You could tell Lucien was near the end when your dress had almost slipped off your chest threatening to expose your naked breasts to him. Luckily, Lucien was too preoccupied to have noticed you trying to regather it back up for coverage. You couldn’t help but to selfishly think about turning around to look at him as your dress falls to the floor. Heat slowly began to warm your lower abdomen. You had to clench your thighs together in hope of Lucien not catching your growing scent of arousal. What would Lucien do to you if you did that? Would he pin you against the sink and truly make you scream his name? Gods you wished. Just then you caught a whiff of your scent. Damn your mind and body for betraying you! You were so worried about Lucien this whole time, when you should've been worrying about yourself. However, you decide that this is probably not the time to be thinking about such lewd things after what happened with Az.

As he was on the last clasp, Lucien couldn’t help catching your lingering scent in the air. You were going to be the death of him. He kisses the newly exposed skin of your back as his scent starts to slightly change and mix in with yours. Your head fell back as your eyes closed in anticipation. His eyes had wandered back to the mirror to see your eyes shut reeling in his touch as he peppered kisses up and down your spine. He marveled at this moment for a brief second before unclasping the last clasp of your dress. Your eyes met his as the last clasp was undone, and you let your dress pool to the floor as a test of restraint. For you or him, you didn’t know which. He held you gaze for a moment, never looking away from your eyes, before ghosting his lips on the nape of your neck. 

“All done...” he whispered as he slowly turned around, shut the door, and walked away back to the kitchen. Cruel wicked male.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and tried to recompose yourself. Gods would drinking more wine be safe anymore after what just happened? You sighed and you picked your dress up off the floor and folded it as nicely as you could. You grabbed the clothes Lucien had given you to change into and started putting them on. Immediately you are swallowed by the musk of Lucien's clothes. It is almost overwhelming if it weren’t for the fact that you loved the smell of the autumn court male.

You laughed at yourself in the mirror as you looked and saw his t hanging so loose on you, it was practically a dress. But let's be honest, you loved it. You slowly opened the bathroom door and made your way out with your former dress folded nicely in your hands. You sat your dress down on the table and turned towards Lucien with a smile. 

“So... how do I look?” and give him a twirl. Lucien looks at you and smiles. Gods, you looked even better in his clothes than in that dress but he wasn’t about to give in that easily. 

“Like a little boy.” Lucien said with a playful gleam in his eyes. 

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW!” as you shake a finger at his face. He laughs. 

“Fine... You look like a very cute little boy!” he says grinning from ear to ear loving the effects his teasing was having on you tonight. You instead stick out your tongue and give him that all too well known finger gesture. He is practically hurled over in laughter, but you just huff and plop yourself on his couch.  

“Be useful and get this “cute little boy” more wine! I'm definitely too sober now.” He laughs again and it warms your chest. You cant help but to grin back.

“Are you sure you can drink wine? You look a little young to be drinking such adult drinks” as he grabs the wine glasses along with the bottle for refills later.  

“LUCIEN, I WILL STRANGLE YOU IF I HEAR ONE MORE LITTLE BOY JOKE!” 

“Okay, okay. Here’s your wine doll.” He hands you your glass with a smile, “You actually look even more beautiful now that you’re in my clothes.” As he sends you a wink before sipping some of his wine. 

“Thank you...” you smile as you take a sip from your own glass. 

“So, other than your mate being an enigma to you, what else has happened since I saw you last?” you both get comfy on the couch and sip on your wine. 

You had failed to realize how long you and Lucien were apart. You told him about your travels through all the different courts, and he told you about his part in the war along with how he became a part of the night court. You both sat there and exchanged every story you could possibly think of, trying to catch up on every moment you missed together. Soon the stories turn into giggling. Neither of you could hold it together as one of you would say something slurred and the other could cry out in laughter. It was the wine-speaking now, but neither of you had minded. You both had forgotten what it was like to be in each other's presence. It was nice to rekindle old flames with your friend, but you had to be careful. Recatching old feelings would not be good for you with this whole Azriel situation. You looked out the corner of your eye to see Lucien trying to fight off a yawn.  

“Oh, don't tell me my lil fox boy has grown tired of me?” as you slightly pinch his cheeks. He grins as he sees you also fighting off your own tiredness. 

“Mmmm seems like my yawns are contagious then, because I could’ve sworn I saw you do one just now.” he raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Okay, maybe I did. All this catching up and wine drinking has made me sleepy.” You decide to grab the blanket Lucien sat on the couch for you earlier this evening.  

“I don’t blame you... Now if you excuse me, I am going to go change into something more comfortable, these clothes are killing me, and then we will call it a night.” he says as he sticks a finger in his collared shirt to loosen the neck and walks off still in the clothes he wore at Rita’s. You chuckle at his figure walking down the hallway to what you would assume to be his room. You don’t know how long he was in there, but you couldn’t wait any longer. Your eyes were too heavy, and you were too drunk to stop your movements down the hallway towards where Lucien disappeared. You find the door he dipped into and see it is cracked a smidge. You decide to knock, unlike Lucien earlier.  

“Hey Lu? Can I come in?” No answer. “Lucien I’m really tired and I don’t know where you want me to sleep...” you slowly push the door open but put too much weight on it and tumble forward into his room. Unlike your knocking, Lucien heard you tumble and was at your side to catch you in a heartbeat. You let out a laugh. “Oh, I'm too drunk for this shit... I'm sorry, I only came here too-” you look up to see him in gray sweat pants, hair loose, and no shirt. Mother blessed this man too much! Oh fuck. Get me out of here.  

“Y/n, you were saying something?” He looks down at you with mischief in his eyes knowing you couldn’t keep yours off his bare chest and gray sweatpants. Your eyes blink rapidly, and you shake your head trying to get that image out your mind but its seared its way in.

“Oh yes. I was just- um, why did I- OH! Where do you want me to sleep? I’m like minutes away from passing out on the damn floor!” Lucien laughs. 

“You can sleep in here, and I can stay on the couch for tonight. Is that alright?” 

“This is your bed and home Lucien. I can't let you sleep on the couch as I take your bed... it just feels wrong. I'll take the couch and you can keep your bed for tonight.” you say as you turn around to head back into the living room before you feel Lucien's hand around your waist stopping you.  

“Y/n I swear to the mother, do not be stubborn and take the damn bed please. It’s too late for this, I promise you it’s okay! I insist.” 

“I guess old habits never die. Always trying to get me in your bed Lu.” you smirk as you crawl in and wrap up in his silk auburn sheets. You thought his house and clothes smelled nice, but his sheets, his sheets were heavenly. You almost fell asleep then and there because it was so calming. Lucien walks over to you and kisses you on the forehead. 

“Goodnight doll, I am truly sorry for your mates behavior tonight. Sleep well...” He turns around, turns out the lights, and is about to walk out the door but hesitates as he hears you say-- 

“Lucien wait-” 

“Yes?” 

“We’re both adults here, right?”  

“Well one of us looks like a little boy, but yes. Why?” Lucien replied. You rolled your eyes at his playful remark from earlier. 

“Adults can share a bed, and nothing has to happen.” 

“Y/n are you saying you want me to sleep next to you?” 

“Yes, I am. I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.” you sigh. 

“Always so persuasive... scoot over.” You open the sheets and scoot over in the bed to make room for Lucien. You feel the bed dip down as he crawls in. You both lay there for a moment reeling in that you two are sharing a bed again. The only difference is now the lingering heartbreak you both feel from your mates. You turn around to face Lucien and ask- 

“Can I lay on your chest?” He doesn’t verbally respond but wraps his hands around your waist and softly pulls you closer to him. You lay your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat, and look up at his face. You tuck a couple of stray hairs that had fallen in his face and tuck them behind his ears and say, “Thank you for tonight, Lucien. Elain is so lucky to have you, she just doesn’t know it yet.” 

“Thank you doll, neither does Azriel. Now let's get some much needed rest. Goodnight,” said Lucien. 

“Goodnight Lu,” as you rest your hand on his bare chest next to your head and you feel Lucien's arms tighten around you. You can't help but to feel so at peace in his presence, and neither can he, as you both fell asleep holding each other all night.  

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[voidcat]

— a broken record

characters: aventurine/you, the ipc, original planets & characters, xianzhou alliance (mostly mentioned)

notes: 3.5k of a beast! Hello, hi, as I’ve mentioned before our mc has a prewritten history and backstory which will be revealed as the story goes on, hence the shifts of perspective you’ll come to see as you read & as I write. Second part of this chapter is an example of this. The storyline begins linear but this will be distorted as the plot goes on. Hsr characters and ipc doesn’t have full of revealed role so I’m taking creative liberties and adding planets, systems and characters when I see benefiting the story. I hope I do the characters justice and you guys enjoy this as much as I do:) love yall bye<3

songs: Too Sweet, It Will Come Back, A Dramatic Irony

i. it will come back

The corporation has its eyes everywhere; but not all those eyes belong to them.

It is a well guessed and partially accurate fact, that their arms and limbs, eyes and noses spread far and wide, recording every instance big or crucial; watching intently to plan their next move.

The IPC spreads far and wide, beyond stars and planet systems many don't even know the existence of. But as there is a price to everything, their range comes with its cost.

His heels echoing on the stone pavements, Aventurine knows of the strategists and analysts the corporation has working under them. Just because he is yet to meet one in the flesh does not make them any less real, though that’s where the rumors seem to hint at. An urban legend at best, exceptional people all in their own field, always watching, observing, recording, collecting information.

The rumors start after this part, where their loyalties lie.

It is something not many care about frankly, everyone has their reasons to work for— or under the IPC, it’s not up for others to judge why someone would willingly work for them, harvesting data for them; nobody knows for certain whether these analysts travel from one location to another, or stay stationed at certain spots for long periods of time; do they like to watch planets burn and shackled, or are they prisoners of the corporation via the extension of someone dear, with hostages and deals one’s forced on; all these questions and more nobody dares to ask around.

As people stare at him, Aventurine walks towards his target, the classy looking pub across the street, the best and most prestigious in the area, known for its delicacies and safety, or so the people of this planet think.

His outfit is the same, the flashy peacock holds his head high, a smirk adorning his face, eyelids low, he is well aware of the attention he gathers, as intended., Ggo on, keep staring, a voice inside him says.

Like anyone else in his line of job, he didn't give much thought to those rumored, but now there is a spark, and his eyes intently roam the place as he enters, hat in one hand, he keeps close to his chest.

There are signs for those wandering eyes.

Or so the people whisper about the urban legends. No one sticks out exactly yet, those kinds would not end up a myth if they stuck out like a sore thumb.

It was pretty much the same with the history of IPC and how it gets the job done, their tactics and course of action always following a system, even with the risks taken, the gambles taken into account, there was always a formula, a pattern that follows– then he decided to take a look at some records and found out interferences happened.

The why of it remains a mystery as of now, the how does not take much; they hold the information, it is up to them how many cards they lie on the table, how much they keep to themselves and how they name their price. A little rebellion as much as they can afford maybe, is it their conscious or just selfish desire, or to feel that they hold the strings above all; he is yet to find out.

Eyes on his target, he makes his way to the secluded booth, greeted with enthusiasm laced with a little fear. Not many people of this planet know of the outworlders traveling beyond stars, only those who rose to their respective ranks are given access to such information after all.

The arrival of IPC is both something that sent them into frenzy; excitement of the ‘what-if’s, fear for the worst case scenarios. They don't need to know of the fates of those erased from the maps to get that survival instinct kicking in.

Eyes lazily gazing over the marshall and the gambler, you take a sip from your drink, allowing the ambiance of the place to take over.

A delightful tune to your eyes, no hungry gaze locked on you for once, a decent cocktail by your hand and a job almost done. The planet itself isn't too advanced but more or less up-to-date with the systems surrounding itself; or the ones in charge are, which is a great deal considering certain systems and planets’ situations. Better to have some sort of an idea than to jump in blind. The gambler’s interactions seem to near its end, still managing to captivate the small crowd around himself until the very last second, flashy smiles and dazzling gestures. From the air around him and the happy but reluctant face of the marshall, you can safely assume a deal has been struck between the planet and the IPC, one can only hope it won’t bring destruction and grief with it, or that all life will cease to exist by the time that comes; with the IPC, one can never know for sure, when it is resource-rich planets they intent to use and mine.

Sweet tunes of the piano and bass remain vibrating in the air, a cello and a small set to keep up the rhythm. The little gathering dispels yet not all of them leave, scattering around the place.

He arrives by your side sooner or later, still making sure to take his time and talking with few others he must’ve seen worthy of their word or to kill time somehow. By the time the gambler sits by your side, you let your finger dance over the rim of your glass, half of the whiskey already gone, faint notes of its scent lingering in the air.

Aventurine tilts his head to the side, beginning with a line not too daring but equally natural and tame; nobody wants to scare people away within a few words, and he has plenty of time before he is expected back in the headquarters of IPC.

instead of a reply, you grace him with a smile and your fingers wrapping around your glass.

Taking your smile as a sign to keep going, he takes the seat next to you, resting his forearm on the counter. Faking a gaze at his clothes, “It seems I must've overdone it.” he says halfheartedly, in question. The voice of a man who knows all too well what he was going for, a sheepish smile that feigns innocence, fully aware of the cheap acting it’s putting on. Warming the atmosphere, creating an air of comfort and ease, friendliness and truce.

“Cannot say for sure,” you hum, “up until now you’ve had everyone’s eyes on your person,” your fingers relax around the glass, “which is more or less how the usual crowd operates, you only happen to beat the others to the quota today.”

He listens as you speak, noting how you talk in sync with the music. As primitive as the planet might be, the access to data was plenty and right under his palms, yet such small details are lost, he wonders if the music lacks lyrics or if they play it here so, just to bring out the conversations happening.

“Well, lucky me, or how else could I find myself a spot near yours truly?” he exclaims, both of you aware how cheap and easy the compliment is.

“I doubt you would have any struggles.” you say as you bring the glass to your lips, taking a small sip of the ashy drink. As true as it is, he takes a step back, filling the space with a smile instead.

Do you find him so charming that you would allow him to draw near any other way or have you noticed how he stands out among the rest as well– your spot here at the bar does not have the best of view but anyone with a slight curiosity could notice it was a certain class he had a meeting with prior. Maybe it's the difference of status you mean, that his meeting alone would be intimidating. Yet it isn’t enough of a reason to justify this possibly, this particular establishment isn’t one anyone can waltz in, hence the reason it was chosen for today’s meeting.

Humming to the melody, you take another sip. “How do you find the establishment so far?” you inquire and at your question, he chuckles. “I see, I see, I should’ve held back a little, maybe leave the hat back at home, huh?”

Only at his words you seem to notice the hat by the counter, your fingers leaving the glass to play with its rim instead, feeling the fabric and the details adorning the garment.

“I wouldn’t know.” you say, closing your eyes, “But speaking for myself, I’m quite fond of the combination so far.”

Silence falls over for a while as the music continues.

“What brings a lovely person such as yourself, alone at the end of the workweek, to a place better enjoyed with someone else?”

Unnecessarily long, his brain jabs at him, but he doesn’t care, from your reactions, you seem to enjoy the rambling and the coyness.

“Exactly what you’ve said at the end.” is your reply. Nails hitting against the glass, you draw out a melodic series of clanks. You follow the rhythm well, he notes, with recognition and following at hand, it is no difficult feat to speak in sync, allow the music to swallow and put your words into spotlight.

“Perhaps the most prestigious place around here, and a little pretentious in the eyes of some– like a certain face I happen to be avoiding, but that’s where the charm of it lies, wouldn’t you agree?” you change the topic and bring it back to where he left, giving him two options, two different roads to take.

Is it the ex that is pretentious or does he find the location as such; he has a feeling the answer to this remains ‘both’.

“The ambiance manages to be intimidating and capture a warmth to it, too.” he says, “a troublesome ex perhaps?” Why pick when you can have it all, he is willing to take it and where it’ll go, until you put down the stop sign.

“And delightful melodies all around, truly a safe haven at times.” you continue his words. “Not really, just his own person, blue hair to match his soul. It often felt like, with his own goals set in mind, ambitions and beliefs, what other people thought to be pretentious was nothing more than a misconception frankly.” you sigh.

“And yet, too much to deal with at the end of the day, hm?” Aventurine asks.

With melancholy on your face, you only close your eyes and nod with a hum.

“You remind me of him.” your words catch him off guard, a lightning bolt down his spine, he finds himself straightening up in his seat.

At his sudden reaction you hold back the chuckle that's by your lips, “with all the contrast you hold to him, relax,” until you cannot, and giggle, “it seems I’ve gotten rusty, my apologies, I was trying to–” you ramble off, unable to finish your sentence.

Cute, he thinks, and another part of him finds it impressive how despite it all, even when words seem to escape your grasp, you still manage to speak in rhythm.

A new song begins playing, with a slight change of tune and color, making Aventurine raise his head without noticing.

“Have you ever thought as if some songs– music can resemble a person?” Your question pulls him out of his bubble. With your chin resting against your fists, you stare at him with big, shiny eyes. The ‘how so?’ rests on his tongue, “It can depend on the song, and the person, I’d assume.” he plays it safe. “How do the lyrics to this one go?”

You let out a hum in sync with the music again, you must’ve heard it plenty before, or just like it to a certain degree.

“I wouldn’t know.”

You say it matter-of-factly, like a kid stating they like ice cream.

The initial surprise wears off and he allows another smile to bloom on his face, unable to rid of his furrowing brows and the confusion still lacing his beating heart.

His eyes quickly go over the place and he cannot spot a single musician in sight, just an old looking gramophone by the bar, behind the counter, jolting by itself at times, as if giving out its final performance. He could swear he saw a small batch of musicians when he entered, they must’ve taken a break perhaps.

“Whoever’s behind it must be an excellent compos–” “honey, you make this so easy.” Your words glide off with the melody, yet something about it sticks out, poking at his ears, something in his guts tell it is distorted.

Yet you keep smiling at him, almost a dreamy, singsong state to your person.

“What is it that catches your attention to the music here?” He hears you speak, eyes looking for the musicians he swears were there several system hours ago.

Swinging slightly to the melody, he knows better than to not keep someone waiting.

“How it brings out the words spoken by whom you’re speaking.” He states, like a kid answering for a pop quiz they’ve been memorizing for all week long.

“And how it drowns out anything else from the outside.” You complete for him, “that's the main reason this place is often sought out by a certain class.”

He has noticed it too, of course, every planet primitive or advanced, always have their ticks and tricks to separate classes and to feel important in their little bubbles.

Eyes finding yours, Aventurine finds your expression to be distracting, you should know better than to smile like that, naive yet sharp, pure yet knowing, holding the secrets to some sort of concept he does not even know the existence of.

He weighs whether to speak next or wait, but it seems you won’t be making any moves until his begins.

“It must’ve been difficult to compose pieces with such a certain goal set in mind though, I’d be delighted to meet the geniu–“ “Oh, how I wish we too had lyrics to accompany our songs just like yours beyond stars.” Your exclamation cuts through the air like a dagger.

What you’ve said registers a bit later than he’d prefer but his face pales before his consciousness gets to work.

“Oh but you didn’t know, did you?” Your voice tone hasn’t shifted much since the moment he has met you, but he begins to find it grating, how you seem to enjoy toying with him, to the best of your abilities.

“Not many outworlders do, none at all, if we are being frank here.”

“And why is that?” Aventurine asks you, glasses pushed to the bridge of his nose, his demeanor a tad more intrigued.

“Now that…” you begin, leaning towards him slightly, “I truly don’t know.”

Hands clasped before you, you take your eyes off him as if this is just some casual date between citizens of the same village.

“But I know what your lot says, that this is a primitive planet at best, just happened to be lucky and advance in certain areas.”

This much information at your hands, you must be among the ranks of government officials. It does not come as a surprise to Aventurine that the Marshall would bring along more than just manpower to an important meeting, determining the destiny of countless lives.

“It is only fitting that the art here has evolved to the form it once had when life was anew and the people had nothing but fire, stones and one another, walls of the caves to draw on, piles of wood to set fire to.”

He takes notice how you avoid using the word ‘devolve’, you must’ve seen something in this turn of events that makes it different to what it used to be, possibly more than just the state of your species.

Not so long after this rundown that you take your leave, still humming the same song from before, Aventurine finds himself wondering what meaning have you attributed to it— and by extension, to him?

And by the time he is back on the ship, preparing his report, his mind begins to forget about you already.

It is unlikely that fate will cross his path through this planet again, reading its name in future reports will be the most at best. The songs however, take their places at the back of his mind, playing over and over when he has just lied down to take a moment,

An interesting detail, indeed, he thinks. But the question remains: was it left out deliberately, or truly only known by the natives of the planet, unable to be reached with no interaction nor contact? Sloppy work or is something bigger at play?

Ii. a dramatic irony / l’inverno

Luofu is ever changing and eternal, as it ever was, just as its citizens are.

Yet today is not one of those days, today, your countless days of watching, noting, and occasionally drinking tea, pays off; the anomaly is on the move, and so are abominations of abundance. Posing the picture perfect threat, as they are meant to be, you wait to see how fruitful this one will turn out to be. Planting seeds often results in disappointment, for most of them require constant care. It’s the matter of collecting those that can stand on their own that enrich one’s wealth.

The anomaly that was supposed to become an abomination themselves stand between the people and the abominations of the stage, one fist clenching, other readying the makeshift weapon, eyes going back and forth, telling those they once swore to protect to stand back.

It is too early to celebrate but you think a nice dinner in Aurum Alley to treat yourself after the day comes to an end would not hurt a soul. Whispering small words on what to do and not, ‘hey didn’t we keep dental records back in the day as well?’, silently entering in and typing in the name of that lost warrior to their system… such things shouldn’t necessarily earn you a pat on the back– it’s not your fault the people have grown slow and dull with the days of peace they are born into. A tea against the artificial sunset wouldn’t hurt a soul, and it certainly won’t hurt the financial resources of the IPC though.

Your job, though what it entails is often unclear, is no rocket science as the people of the blue planet once said. It’s where and how you plant the seeds of suspicion that matters, how you goad them all the while making them feel the ideas were theirs to begin with, just a little nudge toward the right direction, no big deal there.

Focusing back on the present, you go over the expressions people seem to carry. Despite the fear in their eyes, the people watch the ex knight with hope, chests rising high because they have faith they’ll leave this place alive.

Yet something still stinks.

You have left the ‘how’ of the ex knight managing to live out like a regular knight, stranger occurrences have begun to appear at a rapid rate nowadays, got everyone in a frenzy, even the IPC, which, in and of itself is a great deal of success. With the path of Akivili under the spotlight once more, the horizon seems a little wider for you; creating discordances within the flow of events now that their attention has been divided.

You return to the scene before you and notice how the fist does not only clench but seem to hold, then you recall how the time forsaken warrior jumped right into the abominations as they picked out the innocents lying on the ground– not a distraction but a set up.

Setting up the stage before the grand finale, a knight defying time and logic, you can see in their eyes and body how the rumored impulsive nature has evolved, shifted into a new path, bringing along with it a technique unique to its time and person.

You watch as the lights go out and the show starts. It lacks the elegance it was rumored to carry but you’d not be surprised, this is something borrowed, something learned, without their old master, there is no longer a correct way of applying it yet they still play it like a violin, pull the strings and trap the abominations in, one by one, three by three, they try to attack but the knight deflects faster than them.

Then taking a pause, steadying a step back, they look back and tell the people to evacuate the space. As you watch people hurriedly go all around, desperate to help in some way, one running off to alert the authorities, your eye catches a string not shining like the rest, positioned oddly.

In the shadows, nobody sees, and it the crowd, nobody notices you moving.

Crouching down, you pick it up and place how the rest seem to be angled.

Satisfied when you see the golden, light-like shine return to it; a glance at the knight and you see them move, enduring the hits and swinging out the makeshift bow, performing like a violinist and radiating trust with every step. Nowhere near their master yet but quite on the way and more than enough.

By the time the backup arrives, the young swordmaster of ice and soldiers behind him arrive, you take your leave, pulling up your hood, you bring a hand over to your face, letting it sit and feeling the change.

The Alliance seems to be doing well under the general and from the looks of it, it will continue to do so. The nearing presence of the IPC won’t hold as serious a threat as it may to other planets.

The representatives of the company don’t seem to notice your presence as you walk past them and toward the alley.

Among their ranks employees with duller and duller senses, one might even be hopeful as to think the downfall of the corporation will begin shortly.

[antion-bewitching-bitch]

Prologue 2 : Childhood Memories Of a Young Heart

Descendants x male Oc (you can read it as a self-insert if you want).

Master List

Next Chapter | Prev Chapter

TW: None Word Count : 2.7k

A/N: WELCOME, THE DAY HAS FINALLY COME. Sorry not sorry but like life just came and made me inactive sorry <3. Now here is the next prologue, the next chapter will be the start! In this story Eli and the other VKs are still kids and this is how they all met, and some foreshadowing in the group dynamics. HOPE YALL ENJOY!

AGAIN, NOT PROOF READ. if there is any mistakes or like just things that are confusing. Please forgive me for this is just my early days of writing, also if you notice a like change of past or just vibes at the ending parts. That is because thats when i came back to continue this chapter. ANYWAYS JUST ENJOY PLZ.

“Do you know who your father is, Eli?” A boy with white hair and black roots asked Eli. Carlos was his name, ever since Eli could remember he was with him. Being neighbors did make them closer than the other kids in the alley. 

Today was a gloomy day at the isle, it wasn’t that different from most days; and like any other day Eli dragged Carlos with him to find something to do in the isle. There they passed countless people laying in the streets with just mere boxes and metal sheets sheltering them, going under the hazardly built complex of the buildings in the isle and passing the people who worked almost everyday.

“Why ask?” Eli replied and looked back at him. 

our voices were so high pitched back then. We both were in our daily garments with patches of fabrics that covered out past activities that left holes, in the isle it was rare to have multiple sets of clothing.

“I was wondering since..” Carlos continued while he walked closer to Eli “I asked my mom who my dad was last night!” He whispered only loud enough for them to hear

“Who is he?” Eli whispered back, they both now stood blocking the middle of the walkway.

Carlos gave Eli a frown in return. He looked at the ground before answering him with another whisper “Mom just told me to stop asking and to never ask the same question ever again. and made me sleep early...”.

“So you don’t know?” 

“Well…yeah..”

“well..” Eli was trying to think of a way to cheer him up a bit, then a memory came to mind. It was when he tried asking my mom the same thing. “Well my dad is a monster! So it's fine if you don’t know yours...”

The old nanny that came with mom to the isle told me this story. I tried asking mom and she just looked terrified when I did. The nanny then grabbed me and left my mom in the room and told me the story of how my mother was kidnaped by an evil monster alone and then left her with me by her side. It wasn’t until I grew older that I was finally told the truth, again making sure my mom was out of sight when the nanny told me the truth.

“A monster?” Carlos looked at Eli with a confused look. “Yeah!”

“So your…your half monster?” Carlos asked with a confused smirk 

“I think? Is that how it works?” 

It was laughable how little we knew back then; still kids. In a place we didn’t even know was that bad since we didn’t even know any other place than the isle.

He started to laugh, Eli cheered him up with his cluelessness. They would then continue exploring the isle, looking  through crevices they found with fungi growing in them, Abandoned buildings that collapsed in itself, and the bustling space of merchants. 

As they strolled down the streets they saw two girls. One had jet black hair like the roots of Carlos the other had navy blue hair. They seemed to be arguing over something.

“Mal I think we’re lost…” The bluenette said to the ravenette. “Relax, Eve! I know the way back.”

Even as kids, Mal was always so stubborn; yet was still with Evie. Those two even back then were inseparable. Be it for better or worse. Huh.. I just noticed that nickname Mal gives her, Eve. Didn’t know that even back then she called her that.

“A-are you sure? It's getting dark soon…” Evie asked Mal, they were holding hands the entire time. With Evie now tugging at her to make Mal look at her.

“I-...I’m sure Eve..I-” Before the ravenette can continue Carlos interjected and asked them. “Are you both lost?”

The bluenette noticed the boy and was thankful that someone was there, that might even be able to help them. “Yes, please help us. We-". "No we’re not.” said the raven haired girl that now has an unpleasant face.

“It's obvious you are.” Eli said, finally showing his presence and walking to stand next to Carlos. “We can help you, I’m Carlos by the way, I'm Cruella's Son! We're used to these parts of the isle so we can help you easily!”

“You can? Oh what a lucky princess I am! Two brave knights came to save us Mal!” The bluenette was filled with joy with the response from Carlos. Mal was still there being stubborn and not even facing both Eli and Carlos.

“You’re a Princess?!” Carlos was in awe, but it's not like it was new to him. Eli was also royalty in his eyes. “Oh I am! I am Evie, Daughter of the Evil Queen!” She introduced herself. Evie now looked at the ravenette and nudged her elbow a bit, but she wasn’t budging. “This is Mal. She’s a close friend of mine and the daughter of the great Maleficent!”

“And you are?” Mal then asked in a still annoyed tone, she was aiming the question to Eli. “Eli. Son of the Mad Queen of Hearts.” Evie gasped, “You’re royalty too?!”

“Hmmm I think?” Eli responded. He thought more deeply into this. “Carlos, am I a prince?”

Both Evie and Carlos answered with a loud yeah.

Mal, now getting more irritated, made a grunt for attention “Are you going to start helping us or not?”. “Where are you both heading then?” Carlos asked Evie so they could help them.

Now that I think about it. I think Mal got irritated about how close Me, Carlos, and Evie were starting to get. She was always so protective of her. I think she also got more irritated because of how close Evie was getting to Me. Which was stupid to be honest.

After a while of going through the alleyways and pathways towards their way home, Carlos and Eli were able to guide Mal and Evie back. Carlos himself was actually seemingly wanting to get closer to Evie, but Mal would always be a barrier between the two.

The entire time they were walking home, it was getting darker and closer to dusk. The sun was already down low in the horizon but they didn’t even notice that for the heart of the isle was filled with claustrophobic building complexes. They only noticed how it was getting darker and darker signaling the time of night.

However Mal was still apprehensive with the two, she was more irritated by Carlos and him trying to get closer with Evie but was suspicious of Eli’s quiet observing nature; he was behind them when walking back but didn’t talk much other than joining in a bit of conversations. She didn’t like how quiet he was.

“I’d forever be grateful for this! And I’m even more glad that I got to meet another royal!” Evie said with her high pitched voice while giving Eli a smile, even when it was now getting night time and was visibly looking tired; she still kept up her imagined image of a princess. 

“It was nothing really…” Carlos blabbered with a blush on his face visible, he clearly has a crush on her. “It was nice making new friends.” Eli stated back.

It's so weird looking back and seeing Carlos having a crush on Evie, now they’re relationship is nothing more than brother and sister. I bet if I ever tell Evie that Carlos had a crush on her back then, he would be so embarrassed and ashamed. Bet Mal never forgot though, I wonder how she feels about Carlos now.

The lights were dimming, soon they would find themselves below the stars. “It's time for us to go Carlos.” Eli told him. Mal would then scout Carlos towards Eli and away from Evie as she did she said “It's night now at this point. You two should head back home.”. “O-Oh…I didn’t notice it was this late now…” Carlos looked up at the fog polluted skies. “Come on Carlos.” Eli grabbed him and started heading back home.

“Ah- WAIT.” Carlos tried to stop Eli from dragging him a bit. “GOODBYE EVIE! BYE MAL!” he screamed since he wanted to say farewell but couldn’t stop Eli from making him go. “GOODBYE SHINING KNIGHTS!” Evie waved back towards Carlos and Eli who were about to turn into an alleyway where they would last see them for the night. Mal on the other hand was thankful they left, sure they helped her. But they also irritated her a lot.

The streets were dark and littered with men and women, some were drinking, some were talking, most were smoking. It wasn’t really a child friendly place to be in, but by some miracle. Eli and Carlos were able to get home safely.

Albeit with a long scolding by Eli’s mom Mary. Carlos was supposed to go to his home but Cruella, his mom, wasn’t home yet. She would work day by day sewing and tailoring for the people of the isle. It was the only way she could earn a living and raise her only child, both her and Mary would sometimes switch responsibilities in taking care of the children when the old nanny wasn’t around.

After the punishment of kneeling on the floor for a long period of time given to them, Eli and Carlos got to bed. They shared a room in cases like this. Eli would sleep on his bed while Carlos would sleep on the spare mattress, if Cruella was taking care of them. It would be vice versa but in Carlos' room.

Carlos asked Eli while looking at the ceiling thinking back to the girls they met. “Do you think they're cute? Evie and Mal I mean…” There was a period of silence. Eli was contemplating about his answer

“I don’t have much of an interest in them if i'm being honest…They’re nice, well Evie seems to be. But nothing much of note rather than Evie being a princess like me.” Eli answered back now looking towards Carlos from his bed.

“Ever since we met, you never thought of girls as being cute…why?” Carlos asked him not maliciously but just curiously, Eli chuckled. “It’s simple, I don’t see them as that. I find other boys to be much more appealing!”. 

Now this was a big lie, in fact. When I was younger, I never found any other boy to be appealing. The taller more mature men though, now that was what I found appealing even at that age.

“Huh... .Am I cute?” Carlos asked him.

“In a scared little kitty way, yeah!” Eli answered him with a smile while cuddled up with his pillow and blanket.

“...” Carlos looked away from him and remained silent.

“Carlos?” Eli called.

“...”

That was the first ever time I got the silent treatment from him. He may be soft and just little back then, but he took such pride in being a ‘man’ as he would say back then. Even when I grow older like now, I still find that stupid.

PANG!....

It was early in the morning, the moon hadn't even set yet. However Eli and him being a light sleeper woke up to noise coming from the kitchen. He looked over at his side and saw Carlos wasn’t there now. Cruella must have brought him home after she came back from her job.

PONG!...

He heard it again, more noise from the kitchen. It sounded like falling metal things, like the pots and pans used for cooking. It was attached to some doors at the kitchen cabinets so he wondered if it fell because it was recklessly opened.

He got out of bed to check what was happening downstairs, was it his mother?

When he got there, he found a tan skinned boy going through the cabins of the kitchen with food wrappings scattered at the floor alongside the crumbs. Some notable silverware was gone missing and supposedly now in the boy’s pockets.

“When robbing someone, shouldn’t it be done quietly?” Eli was able to grab the burglar’s attention. The balancing act he was doing while going through the cabin vanished for he was startled, causing him to fall into the floor.

“Wow…” Eli was surprised how clumsy this boy was.

The boy had dark brunette hair that was reaching his shoulders while wearing red, even as he laid on the floor Eli could tell he was taller than him. It was silent after that. The boy eyed him, he couldn’t think of what to do now.

As protection, Eli bent down to grab one of the cooking pans that fell. Even as his burglar seemed clumsy and a meat head, he wanted to have a way to protect himself.

“..Why aren’t you screaming…” The boy asked him as he sat up from the floor looking up at him.

“‘Cause you're a kid.” Eli answered simply, he pointed the pan at the boy’s face and continued “If you were an adult I wouldn’t have even spoken and ran to my mom.”

“..Are you not scared of me?” He asked.

“No. You’re a child, not much to fear than your idiocy.” He told him. Food crumbs were still visible on the boy’s mouth. “If you were hungry my mom would have fed you out of pity. Now while I’m still merciful, give back those things you stole. Now.”

“..Fine…..” The boy stood up and grabbed all the spoons and such from his pockets and dumped them to the sink. “I said back to where you stole them. Not. The. Sink.” Eli was ready to strike the boy’s face with the pan, even as the boy stood a few inches taller than him.

As the boy fled and grabbed all of it and placed it back to their rightful place Eli was noticing him more. With a more muscular form than normal, tanned skin, scruffy attire. He guessed he was from the morning merchants area not far from here. Maybe he was a laborer, some unfortunate kids in the isle are forced and made to work for whatever reason the adults had. Maybe financial aid, familial businesses, or so on.

He wasn’t that bad, “What's your name?” Eli asked him when he finished. “...are you not going to tell on me?” the boy asked him, he was worried since he was caught if he was gonna be punished. “I’m a merciful kid. Now, what is your name child?” Eli questioned him back with a condescending smirk and his cooking pan now resting on his shoulder.

“Jay. Call me Jay.” He answered back. “Well nice to meet you Jay, quite the first impression huh?” Eli showed his free hand to shake. 

“What's yours?” Jay asked him. He seemed less shaken and worried now by his voice, he grabbed Eli’s hand.

Eli shook his hand and smiled at him “Eli. You can call me Eli.”

Jay had a blush when hearing the name, Eli didn’t seem to notice. “Are we friends then?” he asked

“Maybe. You have to prove to me you’re worthy though, the first impression of you being a burglar isn’t exactly helping you.” Jay smiled for it was his first time gaining a friend, one he thought was as cute as Eli.

It wasn’t that surprising that Jay and I dated once we got older, now looking back at it. That day seems more crazy as it was the first time I met other kids that I like other than Carlos. My first time meeting Mal and Evie, alongside Jay. Now look at us, we’re on our way out of the isle, going to this school we haven’t heard off since just this morning.

Mal and Evie are still quite close together, but with Mal tolerating us more. Carlos was still like a little brother to me, but now he wasn’t as quiet and shy as back then. Then there is Jay, possibly the one that knows me the best out of everyone.

It was nice when we dated, even when it hurt to break it off. Becoming and then staying friends with him was the right choice, though I am happy that I got to experience what I was like to be with him at the time. I’m sure he does too, his one of the best mistakes I ever made. Now, he is one of my closest friends.

As I stare out of this Car window, I can see the clear blue skies outside. We’ve reached Auradon and have left the isle. It's beautiful, I hate it.

An : Did you guys like it? So I tried doing a mix of 2nd and 3rd person, if you can’t tell. The initialization of paragraphs like here in the end, this is all Eli’s Monologue. Also just in case Y'all also didn’t get it, the entire chapter is just Eli reminiscing about the first time he met every other VKs! PLEASE LIKE IT, IM SORRY I’VE BEEN GONE I HOPE YALL ENJOY THIS.

[slutouttanowhere]

Pairing: Randy Orton x Mavis Pete x LA Knight

Warnings: none

Word count: 4k

a/n: ngl yall it’s currently 3:23 am right now, and I’m just so excited to get this to y’all. This…mini series (I’m not sure don’t get your hopes up lol) is not turning out how I expected, I accidentally added LA Knight to the mix completely forgetting he’s currently feuding with Randy canonically. The female main character, Mavis Pete is my oc, and if it isn’t obvious she’s Black. Anywho, hope y’all enjoy the full version, as always likes,reblogs and comments are appreciated

Chapter 1

Friday Night SmackDown– 7:30 pm

Adam Pearce had enough on his plate with The Judgement Day running around terrorizing the roster, and ruining matches, now on top of that he had to deal with Mavis Pete. She’s been raising hell for the past two weeks, for every time she didn't get a title shot, she’s attacking every female superstar that does. Sabotaging all their opportunities in any way she could. Suspending her wasn’t enough to deter her, no matter how big the fine, she paid them. He’s talked to Hunter multiple times about her behavior, but it seemed as if the young super star was hell bent on having her way. Luckily for her, it’s working out to her benefit with the crowds, but he needed to find a creative way to subdue an insubordinate talent. He tried to put her with Drew before, but the bickered like children to the point where he didn’t have a choice but to split them up. ‘Hmm, there’s gotta be someone else….’ He thought to himself, he looked through his roster, and he didn’t really see anyone he thought would be a good fit. ‘Mavis, despite her causing a hell storm, she’s still in pretty good standing with the locker room. If I put her with anyone she gets along with too well it’ll be pointless.’ He continued to ponder on this, flipping back and forth through his documents. Suddenly, his office door swung open, an agitated, Randy Orton stood in the doorway. A stern look on his face, his lips parted to speak, but before he could get his words out, Mavis came barging in right behind him. “Finally your office hours are open, listen I don't have time to waste you know what I want–

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you any manners, kid?” Randy cut her off, he turned to her, temporarily taking his eyes off their general manager. She looked taken aback by his attitude, one hand on her hip, and her face scrunched into a disgusted expression. Mavis and Randy rarely cross paths, but of course she knew who he was, she’d never tell him, but he’s in her top five favorite wrestler’s of all time. Given any other circumstance, she’d be gushing, and fangirling. She snapped out of her thoughts quickly, his icy blue irises analyzing her, her diamond chains catching his eyes. 

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to interrupt a bad bitch when she’s talking?” She asked, a slight smirk on her lips, to which Randy scoffed, and turned back to Pearce, blocking Mavis’ sight 

“Anyway, like I was saying.” He started talking again, ignoring the younger superstar behind him, Adam raised his eyebrows expectantly, but to Randy’s misfortune, he never got the chance to speak. 

Mavis rolled her eyes, and cleared her throat, “like I was saying.” She had pushed past Randy, her hips bumping him out the way, now it was his turn to be shocked. “It’s time to make some shit shake, I think baby face was nice, but being heel is what the fan really want from me.”  He watched as she demanded answers from the SmackDown Gm, Randy would be lying if he said he hadn’t been watching Mavis’ performances. She was a star in the making, if she could control her attitude, and if she could learn to pull that trigger when necessary, she’d be gold. Or in her case diamonds.

“You wanna be a champion, but don’t know when to stop running your mouth? The disrespect is astounding, please tell me you know better than this?” Randy talked over Pearce, he watched the interaction between the superstars, and now the wheels were turning in his head. He finally had a perfect idea, maybe it was temporary, but it would keep everyone busy till he figured out the alternative. 

“Listen, I know you’re old enough to be a father…” Her lips pressed together a poor attempt to repress her disdain, and to keep her mouth from becoming more reckless. She didn’t understand why Randy treated her the way he did, like she didn’t even exist. It bruised her ego that out of everyone she got along with, he was the one she couldn’t crack. 

Randy smirked in response, his assessment was swift, the revealing outfits, and over zealous confidence is what caught his eye when she first got drafted. In a way, she reminded him of a younger version of himself. He let out a condescending chuckle, and as badly as he wanted to let his intrusive thoughts take over, he tried to remain professional. “It seems to me like you sure could use the guidance of a wiser man, Hot Girl, Maivs Pete.” He said her name mockingly, and she’s not sure what bothered her more, the fact that he thought that she needed his help, or that she was turned on by his innuendo. They stared each other down, neither one of them refusing to break, till Adam Pearce clapped his hands together.

“That’s it! I got the perfect idea, since you're both more than likely here for the same reason, contenders spots. So here’s the plan, in a few minutes, I want you two to meet me out there in that ring.”  Adam clasped his hands together, a satisfied expression on his face as he watched Mavis and Randy pause their bickering, and turn their attention to their boss. 

“For what exactly?” Randy asked , his arms folded across his chest, he watched Pearce with a skeptical glance. He gestured between the two, a wide grin grew across his mouth, Randy and Mavis turned to look at each other, look back at Pearce, and back at each other. That’s when it clicked in their heads what he was referring to, Mavis rolled her eyes, and Randy groaned. 

“I don't have time for this, Pearce, I’m not a babysitter.”

“I couldn’t care less as long as it involves a title shot.” 

Randy, and Mavis spoke simultaneously, the roar of the fans in the packed Ford Field Stadium could be heard throughout the whole arena. The chants of them demanding to see their hometown sweetheart, Mavis Pete, could be heard throughout the arena. It warmed her heart to know that damn near the whole city showed up for her.

“That’s too bad, my choice has been made, and in just a little bit you’ll find out more details. Now, if I were you two I’d take this opportunity to get to know each other a little better, because whether you like it, or not, you will be working together for quite a while.” The two of them began to fuss, but Pearce was not hearing any of it; he shut them down immediately, then swept them out of his office. They stood there looking at each other dumb founded, this was not how either of them expected their night to go at all, Mavis wasn't on the card till much later in the night. Randy was supposed to work Austin Theory, how he just got switched from one rookie to the other? He had no clue, this was still the opposite of what he originally came to Adam’s office for. He asked for lemons, they gave him oranges. Mavis turned to go her own way, not before Randy reached out, and grabbed her by the arm. 

“Hey, quit it with the sass, you're not as tough as you think you are.” Randy called her bluff, a knowing grin on his lips, but she refused to fold. She rubbed her lips together redistributing the coat of gloss on her lips; her eyebrow raised as she pondered rather she’d play nice or not. Randy watched her expectantly, which caused Mavis to sigh softly, her expression told him nothing about how she genuinely felt. Instead, she morphed back into that playful, flirtatious girl she showed everyone else.

“Ugh, you’re no fun, you mine as well relax since you’re gonna be stuck with me.” She snorted, a smirk slowly growing across her face, her gaze held Randy’s, but when he tilted his head confusedly, she let out a mischievous giggle. Her hand on her hip, switching her weight from one foot to the other, Randy eyes shamelessly wondered down her body, taking in her curves from this distance, and took note of how toned her muscles are. Her skin looked soft to the touch, and it shimmered like mermaid scales underneath the lights from all the body glitter.  She definitely knew how to present herself like a star.

“This isn't the first time AP has tried to use someone else to ‘keep me in line’, a month ago he tried to stick me with Drew, but little did I know, he’s a bigger brat than I am.” She folded her arms over her chest, Randy pushed off the wall, and took a few steps towards her, minimal space between them. As tall as Mavis is, Randy is taller, and bigger; she peered up at him from underneath her long lashes. He was curious about her; he wanted to see past her mask. For a fleeting moment her cocky demeanor faded, he looked away for a second, an official spoke to him. Randy mumbled a few words, but by the time he looked back to her, whatever he thought he saw was gone.

“Do you think I’m gonna keep you in line?” Randy asked, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

Mavis shrugged her shoulders, her lips stretching into a smirk, “maybe, we’ll see.” She turned to walk away to get her gear on for tonight, but not before turning in enough time to notice how his eyes had dropped to her ass. He took his time making his way up to her face, she angled her body giving him a better view, and making a show of it.

“See ya out there…partner.” Mavis grinned like a Cheshire Cat, then sashayed away. 

Adam Pearce stood in the middle of the ring, mic in hand ready to address the WWE universe. The crowd buzzed in response, they had a rowdy crowd tonight in Mavis Pete’s hometown Detroit, Michigan. The way the arena is sold out, you’d think it was a pay per view event, but no, this was an average Monday night. “Good evening Detroit, and welcome…to Friday Night SmackDown!” The fans roared in response, Adam looked over to the camera, his hand gesturing to the viewers on the other side of the camera at home. “And good evening to you all at home. I know you all are excited for the show tonight, so I won't hold you up for too long. Recently, I’ve had more than a few trouble makers on my hands, among the few, your very own Mavis Pete.” On cue they chanted for her relentlessly, the sound of thousands of people was damn near overwhelming, but it’s nothing Adam isn't used to. 

He continued his announcement, moving about the ring. “With that being said, tonight will be my second attempt at partnering ‘Thee Money Making Mavis’, who can not only subdue her reckless behavior, but also keep her line.” He paused for a moment taking a breath, “this superstar is not only a veteran to the game, but he himself is someone who’s had their fair share of suspensions. Someone whose legacy is killing WWE legends, Mavis’ new partner… is none other than Randy Orton!” He let the crowd react, they stood to their feet to chant, ‘RKO’ he nodded his head proud of his decision, the people loved it, and that’s what mattered to him. 

“With that being said, tonight, we’ll settle some grievances. Mavis was to go one night one later on tight with Bianca Belair for a contender spot, but it seems like you’ll be getting spoiled here tonight Detroit because, not only will you see Bianca Belair, and Mavis Pete compete for the number one contenders spot to face Rhea Ripley at SummerSlam…” He took a breath, Bianca bumped shoulders with Mavis as they sat side by side backstage, and watched the show on the monitors. They had been talking about having this match for ages, and finally they would get the chance to show out, and shine their black girl magic on live television. Bianca was already a three time champion, if anything this match was to put Mavis over; Randy came over to take a seat with them, Mavis’ eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Ladies.” He greeted them, Bianca smiled greeting the well known ‘Viper’, but she nearly falls out her seat seeing Mavis’ reaction. Feeling Bianca’s eyes on her, Mavis turned to her older friend, and gave her a glare that could kill. Her lips turned upward into a knowing grin, but said nothing else.

“And I haven’t forgotten about Randy…joining his tag partner Mavis Pete tonight, as he faces off against LA Knight, think of it as a reconciliation for how last week's contender match was ruined by The Bloodline. Whichever team gets the win by pinfall or submission, is the team's victors, how does that sound?” The arena erupted in response causing Adam’s lips to pull up into a satisfied grin, he waved to the crowd, and right when he was leaving the ring, the camera’s cut to a backstage segment with Liv Morgan. Randy turned to Mavis, his eyes dropped to her neck expecting to see her diamond flooded pokemon chain, but it wasn't there. Curiosity getting the better of him he just came out and asked, “You don't seem like a girl that likes anime.” He suddenly spoke up after being quiet for a few moments, Mavis almost forgot he was there, Bianca on the other hand, took that as her cue, using Montez as her excuse to leave. This left Mavis all alone with Randy, they weren't that far from the guerilla, and had a little bit of time before their match. 

“Believe it or not, girls do watch anime, and a whole lot of other nerdy things.” She grinned, her lips glossy, and shining. Her eyes looked down at her nails, inspecting them nonchalantly, something he’s noticed her doing often. More so when she’s disinterested in what people were saying, but that didn't turn Randy off from getting into her head now that he’s seeing her up close. 

“That’s not what I meant, it’s just you're so —

“Pretty?” She cut him off beaming, showing off her diamond encrusted grills that were outlined with gold, Mavis has never had the chance to be so flirty with him, and it was kind of thrilling to see how this was going to play out. ‘Ole Scrap Daddy may have done me a favor, Drew wasn’t  this fun to play with.’ She thought to herself, flash backs of her time spent working with, “The Scottish Warrior,” replayed in her mind. She could see why her best friend, Desiree Simons, liked him so much. Randy pressed his lips together, the corner of his lip twitched, and his eyes shined with mischief. 

“While you are pretty Mavis, I was going to say…cool, you seem too cool to be into nerdy things.” Randy confused, his voice low enough for only the two of them to hear, Mavis nearly choked on her spit not expecting his response. He looked at her expanctanly, the ball was in her court, and for the first time she was rendered speechless. Though she recovered quickly, but not nearly as fast as she could have. 

She crossed one thigh over the other, her body less rigid than before. Her gaze softened as she watched him with hooded eyelids. “You think I’m pretty? Say it again…please.” 

“Ya ready for tonight Petey.” LA Knight’s voice could be heard from down the hall, aloof to the heat between Randy and Mavis. Randy looked like he wanted to swallow her whole, she got to him when he least expected, her boldness excited  him. He liked when his prey played with him before he striked. He rolled his shoulders, taking LA Knights distraction as time for him to cool down, and adjust.

“Aye! LA, you know I’m always ready.” She said playfully, his eyes looked her up and down, he swore he could still taste her on his tongue. Randy had heard rumors of the two of them having a small fling, but he didn't hear much more than that. He knew there were a few guys in the locker room lining up to get their chance with the self proclaimed ‘WWE Resident Hottie’. He knew for a fact some of them were in over their head, Mavis was too high maintenance to keep up with for an unseasoned man. For some reason he didn't like the way LA was looking at her, the way she was inviting his attention, and egging it on. Randy tried to find his breathing, and clam himself, when Mavis let out a giggle to something LA had said. That’s when he cleared his throat, unable to be around the two of them at the same time anymore.

“Oh wassup man, how are ya?” LA ask as if just noticing Randy being there, he could care less that Randy was standing there watching him and Mavis practically eye fuck each other. Every man that comes across her path is in constant competition with the other man that thought he had a chance. Truth is, none of them were particularly special, she did have her favorites though. LA Knight being one. No one turley knew who her number ones were, but he learned that if you were low key enough, and just went along for the ride you might be a main player. That’s all he wanted with Mavis, was to have fun, rather it was sex or not. He genuinely did like her, she was smart, and talented as all hell. He didn’t realize the longer he stayed, the further her fell down the rabbit whole to Mavis’ wonderland. ‘Ya just haven’t figured it out yet have you Randal?’ LA watched Randy with a scrutinizing gaze, he didn’t know much about the legacy kid personally, but Randy did look like a guy to fight over his possessions. It’s too early to tell where Randy will fall in the line up of Mavis’ chosen ones, but he’ll make sure to keep an eye out for the old snake. 

“Just another Friday night, chaos, and energy is in the air.” He smiled pleasantly, standing from his seat, and blocking LA Knight’s view of Mavis. He wasn’t in the mood to argue, he knew what Randy was trying to do, and it wouldn’t work. Mavis is going to do, and talk to who she wants. She leaned back in her chair, a smirk on her lips, but she sat idly. The two men talked formalities while they waited, but after a while, an official came over to Mavis letting her know that she had 10 minutes before she walked. 

She pushed her chair back, then stood up stretching her arms, and legs. LA Knight took that as a chance to get one last comment in, “need me to help stretch you out? Don’t wanna pull a muscle.” His pretty baby blue eyes watched her, taking in everything, from her perfectly applied makeup, to her Nike promoted ring gear. His eyes lingered on her breast, more memories of the nights they spend in her hotel making his head spin. 

She looked at Randy, his facial expression blank, but his eyes sparked a flame of jealousy. She bit her lip looking over Randy’s shoulder at LA Knight, she shrugged as she looked at him sheepishly. “Mm, maybe next time, sweet of you to be concerned though.”  She looked up at the clock on the wall signaling that she had eight minutes left, as she was led past Randy, she put a hand on his large shoulder. “See ya out there, partner.” Her hand slid down his arm, his eyes following her movements, and lingered on her as she galloped down the hall to the main curtains. 

Her music hit ‘Bling Bling Bling, bitches are mad.’ Mavis popped out from behind the titon tron, and Randy swore he’s never heard a pop so loud before. He looked over to the monitor, and as the camera panned out to the crowd, not a single person was sitting. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she danced down the ramp to the ring, she flicked her waist length, purple hair over her shoulder. A few fans from the crowd reached out for her, shouting for her to acknowledge them, but Mavis scrunched her face up in disgust. Some of them didn’t appreciate her attitude, “that’s why you’re that bitch Mavis!” A girl near the front row screamed at her, she turned to see a group of young girls, maybe in their twenties, cheering for her.

“Yeah I know.” She smirked arrogantly, Mavis has been begging for weeks for a switch up on her character, the baby face run wasn’t working with the fans anymore, her real fans. They wanted something different of her, but it was like pulling teeth with creative. She figured she’d just give the people what they wanted, if they loved it, majority of the time she got in a lot of trouble. But consistently doing what others are telling her, going against her intuition, then she felt none of it is worth it. She didn’t tell anyone, but it was starting to affect her mental, just going along with what the company wanted was killing her own creativity. Her recent push backs was the only way she knew how to get what she wanted, suspensions be damned.

“She’s not the girl you think she is, you know. She may have a lot of eyes on her, and a lot of dudes lined up. That doesn’t mean everyone makes the cut, that includes you.” LA Knight spoke up from beside him, a serious expression etched across his face as he stood beside his co-worker. Truth be told, he felt Randy would be his only competition, he’s one of Mavis’s types, and that didn’t sit well with him. He blamed himself for just cruising along this whole time thinking he was secure with her, he planned on telling her how he felt…eventually. However, with Randy in the picture now, it has caused LA Knight to shift things into another gear.

Randy’s eyes flickered over to him momentarily, “and why are you telling me that?” His mind distracted by the way she dropped into a full split on the apron, and crawled into the ring from underneath the bottom rope.

“Because I know you’ve heard the whispers, how can people not talk about her ya know? But I know you’re a guy that doesn’t get tangled up in the drama, so I wouldn’t expect you to know that. I’ll say this then I’ll leave, no matter what you hear people say, don’t believe it. Don’t bother trying to slither your way into the fold, she runs a tight ship.”  That caught Randy’s attention, he tore his eyes away from the screen to look at his colleague, they held each other's stare. Randy nodded his head in understanding, what he didn’t understand was why LA Knight was going out of his was to throw him off a trail Randy wasn’t even on to begin with. He had a few opinions of his own about Mavis; he thinks she is arrogant, and impossibly flashy. However, he respected her for taking charge of her own character, and story lines. When he was her age, he was looking to everyone else about what to do, but Mavis already has it figured out. So, whatever rumors LA Knight was implying, must be worse than what he assumed. He left Randy to himself, a few seconds passed, then an official came to get him, but he was already making his way to the curtain. When they hit his music he took a deep breath to try to get the past thirty minutes out of his head for now. 

Their match as been going for a few minutes now, Randy and LA knight started the match, till is slowly transitioned over to the ladies. Bianca was busy yelling at LA Knight for getting in her way during the match, so Mavis took that as an opportunity to try and catch her in a roll up pin. Banica’s legs shot up, and effectively kicked out before the count of three. 

Randy watched from his corner, he wasn’t sure when Mavis got this good, but her in-ring work has already peaked since four months ago. The two women had been beating each other inside the ring for so long, Randy, and LA Knight had been sidelined unintentionally. Until, Bianca whipped Mavis into the ropes, and as she bounced off, Bianca slashed Mavis with her long braid. You could hear everyone simultaneously cringing, and grunting from the sound of her hair cracking Mavis’s flesh. 

“Goddamn it! Fuck! Forget this, hell nah.” Mavis shouted, she immediately backed away from her opponent, nearly running to the corner to tag Randy. 

“Bet you’ve never been happier to see me huh?” He chuckled as he slapped her shoulder lightly, which forced Bianca to make her tag to LA. Mavis laid on her back on the apron, both hands above her head, and her eyes closed. Her skin was throbbing, and stinging on that side. This sure will leave a nasty bruise tomorrow, but for now she’d have to suck it up. She brushed her hand over the area, her skin was hot to the touch, and she could feel how welting began. 

Regardless she got up in just enough time to see how LA Knoght accidentally knocked Bianca off the apron, and into the floor from Randy roughly shoving him into the corner. He began to fight back enough to get Randy down, as he laid there on his back, LA took that as the opportunity to climb up to the top rope. ‘Classic Randall’ Mavis’ lips pulled up into a smirk, she knew  there’s only one way this is gonna end at this point. As LA came flying from the top rope, Randy sprung to life at the last second and caught him in the RKO. 

Instinctively Randy went for the pin, by the time Banica jumped back into the ring to break the count it was too late. The bell rang, and Randy and Mavis were named victors. Adrenaline pumping in her veins she ran into the ring, and hopped on Randy, wrapping her arms and legs around him. As soon as their skin touched, she was reminded of the lashing Banica gave her not too long ago, and instantly she cringed away. “That’s a pretty nasty mark you got there, let’s go get it checked out?” Randy offered Mavis a hand to help her steady herself between the ropes, and for a second their eyes locked Mavis felt vulnerable. Like he was looking into her soul. She coughed awkwardly, then jumped down from the apron, and made her way up the ramp. 

“Jesus Bianca, spare me next time.” Mavis playfully scolded, her eyebrows drawn together as she pointed at the red slash mark that wrapped around her side, like a devilish hug. Banica grinned from ear to ear, swinging her braid in her hand, she knew Mavis could handle a little pain, but apologized anyway. 

“I am sorry though, I seen that Back Seat finisher coming and I said this girl trynna kill me. Not my fault I beat you to the punch.” She laughed lightly, the doctors fixed Mavis up and let her be on her way. A gentle hand on her shoulder caught her attention, she turned to see Randy with his long arm reaching out to her. He let his hand slide down her arm, just as she did earlier, feeling her toned muscles underneath the purple mesh fabric. Their fingertips grazed, but at the last second she caught the tips of his fingers before she had a chance to fall to his side. She looked up at him, and for once a genuine smile settled into his face. His gaze softened, as he lets her have a peak of the real him, but it was gone just as easily as it appeared. 

“Not bad kid.” His lips now curing into a smirk, his icy eyes inviting her in to play, and though she started this, Mavis didn’t intend on finishing it. 

“I did okay.” She mumbled meekly, her body slightly turned away from him, and her free arm wrapping around her midsection to keep his eyes off her skin. He tilted his head, watching her curiously now, ‘you wanted this.’ Randy thought to himself, he wanted to laugh at her sudden shyness, but he held it in.  

“Oh don’t get shy on me now sweetheart, what, now that I’ve shown you a little attention you don’t know how to act?” He leaned in slightly trying to catch her gaze, she sucked her teeth, yanking her hand away from him. A fire lighting in her eyes, that’s exactly what he wanted, and though he knew the tender side that resided in her would be interesting to see. Randy wanted this side of her much more, to get her fired up, just to blow her out again. 

“Boy fuck you.” She rolled her eyes, flicked her hair over her shoulder, and walked away. She was more annoyed that she lost her cool, than the way he tried to embarrass her. He caught up to her again, he tried to grab her by the arm, but when she snatched her arm away, she whipped around to face him. To her surprise he was closer than she anticipated, and nearly ran into him. 

“Hey, hey, hey now. No reason to be mean, I was just joking around, I’m sorry.” He apologized, feigning guilt, and pressing his plans together, pretending to pray. Mavis’ lips pressed together unimpressed, from a distance Randy could see LA making his way down the hall heading in their direction. “How about we go out for a drink, just you and me, think of it as a celebration. And…is officially getting to know each other.” He offered, Mavis folded her arms over her chest as she thought about it for a moment, and boy did she take her time. 

“You were looking like money out there Mavis, could hardly keep focus.” LA Knight drew her attention to him as he approached, she didn’t see the way Randy grimaced, but she felt it. It’s not lost on her that the two men never got along, Knight’s arrogance had always rubbed Randy the wrong way, and one night he let it slip that he and Randy had more than a few heated exchanges. Despite being in the game for 20 years, he still has yet to earn Randy’s respect. The Viper has claimed on several occasions that once all the hype dies, LA Knight is just going to sink with the rest of them. 

“Hey better watch yourself, Banica takes her in ring work very seriously, next time it might be you who gets whooped” The two of them small talk for a while, Mavis knew exactly what he wanted from her, but she was going to make him ask rather than her being the one to offer. Randy however, wasn’t moving from his spot, instead he made himself comfortable against the wall bearing the cold bite of the white bricks. 

“Tell me you’re coming out tonight, it’s been a minute.” And there it was, the invitation, Randy respected the consistency. What he expected was for Mavis to ditch him, and take LA Knight up on his offer since the two of them had a “history” so to speak.

“Actually, I’m already booked, sorry babe.” She smiled sheepishly, she squeezed his shoulder, though his eyes told a different story, he took on the chin like a man. Mavis hasn’t turned him down in almost a month straight, but as luck would have it, Randy posed something more interesting than what she was used to. Without so much of a word, she left the two men alone together yet again. Not wanting to feel the embarrassment any longer, LA began to walk, but not before Randy’s last words. 

“You’re in love with her.” He chuckled in disbelief, and just like that Randy said the one thing out loud, that LA could never. The two men went their separate ways, again he caught up to Mavis before she turned down the hall that headed towards the women’s locker room. 

“Looks like you haven’t turned him down before.” He said trying to dig for information, but Mavis wasn’t going to speak on that at the moment. Instead she offered him a sweet smile, her hip leaning against the door to the locker room. He took a step forward, minimal space between them, and if he leaned in any closer he’d be able to kiss her nose. He’s had his fair share of entanglement with his other female colleagues, and he felt a though going down that road with Mavis may be a rocky one. He knew if he opened the door even just a crack, she’d flounce right on in with no problem. She was looking for the opportunity he could tell, but when LA Knights face flashed across his mind, Randy decided against it. He took a step back, she didn’t seem to notice the slight rejection from the way she continued to swoon.

“There’s a seafood restaurant downtown I like to go to called Fishbones…I’ll send you the address?” This time she held Randy’s gaze, a sensation of butterflies swirling in the pit of her stomach. His mouth turned upward into his classic smirk, his bottom lip tugged between his teeth. Mavis gripped the door handle in a poor attempt to contain herself. 

“See you in a few hours then.” She silently nodded, not trusting her voice, then disappeared behind the safety of the women’s locker room.