#he just takes my breath way with the -pulling strings- scene

[sttoru]

𝝑𝑒 SYNOPSIS. sukuna is shameless—not caring if anyone were to ever catch him righteously claiming ownership over his favorite concubine in the garden.

wc. 1.5k-ish

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, pwp. exhibitionism. size difference. dumbification \\ objectification. has two c.ocks. hair pulling. use of spit (yeah ik i wouldnt write for it but its sukuna). breeding themes. overstimulation. reader gets called ‘little girl, slut’. sukuna’s a menace and loves to create drama between his concubines

“shut up. i don’t care if they’re here or not,” sukuna grunts, tightening his grip on your fleshy thighs as his lower cock slams in and out your sloppy cunt without much thought. the sound of pruning shears cutting off branches is easily overwhelmed by the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin.

you feel sorry for those servants who’re just doing their job tending to the garden. none of them dare to look your way. they’re sweating, eyes solely focused on the branches they’re cutting, acting like they are not hearing the sinful moans and grunts in the distance. if they look, they’re dead. that much is known.

everything is blurry to you. all you can manage to do is let out a string of pleasure filled whines. your body is easily overpowered and held up against the harsh wood of the nearby wall. your thighs are spread in an awfully painful way, your knees up to your chest. quite literally folded in half.

“i said eyes on me, y’ fuckin’ slut,” sukuna barks. he does not have the patience today. you breaking the intense eye contact with him only worsens his mood. one of his veiny hands tug at your hair. the others hold you up—not allowing you to even think of getting back on your feet until your tight cunt is done milking him for what he’s worth.

you gasp and sukuna takes the chance to grab your jaw with yet another free hand. “open y’r mouth,” his hips do not still for even a second. they roll and ground against yours, the surrounding skin near his pelvis stained with your wet juices. he could smell it. just as nasty and dirty as he wants it to be.

you part your lips and keep them like that, not wanting to piss sukuna off even more. he grins at the sight of your red tongue instinctively rolling out like the obedient little girl you are. he spits right into your mouth, “swallow.”

you do so without second thought. the warm liquid trickles down your throat. sukuna watches in satisfaction, drilling into you until your insides are complete mush. you’re drooling over yourself already—clearly having lost control over your rationality.

you sniffle and try to hold onto sukuna’s biceps. your small fingers curl around the shape of them, nails digging into his flesh. every time you think sukuna’s finally letting up, he only increases his inhuman pace. “my l-lord, ‘s too much,” you cry out. your body could only handle so much pleasure before it’d break down. your pussy is convulsing around his girthy cock, feeling his other sliding back and forth over your sensitive clit.

the king of curses shuts you up with a hiss. his bottom set of eyes is focused on the impressive scene of your tiny pussy swallowing his cock so easily. he’s feeling proud of the fact that he’s molded you into the perfect concubine for him and his carnal pleasure.

sukuna has fucked you silly enough times to know how to get you under his spell. his fingers brush over your hard nipples, grabbing the squishy flesh of your tits as they bounce with each of his thrusts. he leans his head down towards yours. his rough, raspy voice makes your body heat up, “no, no. it’s never too much for my little girl, right? she can easily take ‘nother load f’me.”

your breath hitches and sukuna realises it worked. he knows just what to say to manipulate you into giving in. so he can fuck you senseless for how long he wants. you’re a sucker for the fact that he calls you his. that’s what you are—you’re his woman. only his and no one else’s. the claim of ownership makes your pussy clench.

“y-yes, my lord. i can take another, i can,” you breathe out, head swaying from side to side, not mentally able anymore to keep up with sukuna’s intense libido. yet, your body is still active, squeezing around sukuna’s dick as he promised you more of his precious cum.

the king of curses snickers, amused by just how fast you gave in. “that’s what i thought, hah,” he’s realised that his hold on you knows no bounds. you’re his little toy. the only one he wants to ravish these days. and the only one worth of carrying his seed.

you’re still thinking about the way he’s called you ‘his little girl’. it’s driving you closer to the edge. you start to get louder, completely ignoring your inner thoughts that begged you to have some decorum; to try and hide the fact that you’re getting slutted out in the courtyard.

there’s not much hiding it anyway since the servants have a clear understanding of what’s going on behind them. “mghh, please—please need more!” you mewl and sukuna listens. his red eyes darken with desire as you get into it. he loves to experience that lust driven side of yours. a complete opposite to your usual formal and shy self.

“louder, c’mon. let them know i’m fucking you good,” sukuna sneers, enjoying the mind games he is playing with you. you’re too cockdrunk to even notice. the them in his sentence refers to his other concubines. he knows that you’re secretly craving to get revenge on them and show them just how well you get dicked down by him every single day.

unlike them, who rarely get graced by his touch. that is, when you’re unavailable.

you do as told and increase the volume of your erotic moans, letting everyone around the estate know what you’re getting up to. not like anyone could interfere. sukuna wouldn’t dare let them live a second after.

“that’s it, yeah,” the sorcerer grunts and rams his length repeatedly into you, cursing at the way you’re gripping him so tightly. you’re so dripping wet that he slips out of you for a second. he moves his hips, angling them better to slam back inside of you.

however, you’re one step ahead. your shaky hand reaches down between your legs and you quickly guide his tip to your entrance, urging him to push between your moist folds again. “nasty fuckin’ girl,” sukuna scoffs at your desperation, though secretly thrives off it. he switches cocks and shoves the upper one into your cunt.

you gasp. you’re so used to him to the point that you could sense the difference between his dicks. the upper one has more veins and is a tad bit girthier. you hiccup and nearly choke on your own moans and spit from the change of pace and dicks. “ngh, ‘tis so deep, my lord—” you whine loudly and your hands move to hold your breasts, stopping them from painfully jiggling around in every direction.

sukuna hums in content as he continues his rough thrusts. he can feel his balls twitch and clench, ready to shoot his sperm all up in your womb like you deserve. though, he doesn’t want to end this moment too quickly. he wants to extend it.

“c’mere,” sukuna grumbles and stops pounding your poor, aching cunt. he stills his dick inside you and allows you to cling onto his tall stature, lifting you away from the wall. he silently urges you to wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you.

the robes of your kimono get left behind on the patch of grass near the wall of the main house. there’s a few droplets of white liquid that’s stained the grass, right where sukuna and you were standing at seconds ago.

you don’t think about anything anymore as you babble about how full you felt with his cock all the way in you. the fat tip brushes against your cervix with each step sukuna takes towards his next destination.

“keep talkin’ to me, doll. tell me how good it feels to take my cock,” he grins smugly as he carries your little body like a trophy into the main building—not paying mind to any maids who he passes by. they’re shocked by the sight of their lady in such a state, though are only able to bow at the two of you.

sukuna finally stops in front of the dinner table. the same table you always have dinner at with him and his other women. he places your back against the surface, big hands holding you down by your hips. “there we go,” he coos mockingly, seeing how you’re completely fucked out, yet still needing more of him.

the king of curses has his own twisted reasons of bringing you here. looking outside of the window, you notice how the sun is starting to set. that’s also the moment you realise his hidden motive.

the other concubines will sooner or later gather at the dining hall to eat supper. they’d expect a peaceful meal, though instead, they’ll be greeted by the sight of their dear lord screwing his favorite. it’ll be a painful blow to them.

which is exactly what the ruthless man wants to achieve.

sukuna licks his lips and all of his eyes focus on you solely, “gonna enjoy my dinner a bit earlier t’day, yeah?”

CR. STTORU 2024

[rafecameronssl4t]

Deal or deal? || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

gif by @rafeyscurtainbangs

Summary: inspired by this scene in ep 4 but with my own twist and it’s dad!rafe x reader w/ Mabel 😍

Warnings: nothing rlly!

Word count: 1,075

A/n: hey so um I caved in couldn't resist writing at least one fic w the new season during my break...

MASTERLIST (dad!Rafe au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

You walk into the ensuite bathroom as you adjust Mabel on your hip. Her little hands curl around your shoulder, her head nestling against your neck. The soft scent of baby powder clings to her skin, and despite the busyness of the morning, there’s always something calming about her presence. Rafe stands by the counter, packing the beach bag with towels, sunscreen, and toys, his movements relaxed yet purposeful.

He looks up as you approach, his sharp blue eyes softening. “You’re just in time,” he says, zipping the bag with a quick motion and setting it aside. You smile back, setting Mabel in her bouncer next to him. "Thought I’d let you handle the sunscreen part," you tease, brushing your fingers gently over Mabel's soft curls. Rafe chuckles and kneels beside her, his large hands dwarfing the bottle of sunscreen as he carefully squirts a bit onto his fingers.

"Alright, princess, we don’t want you burning up, do we?” he murmurs, gently applying the cream to her chubby cheeks. His touch is so soft, filled with care, as Mabel giggles, her tiny hands reaching for his face. You smile, pressing a kiss to the top of Mabel’s head. She gurgles happily, her tiny feet kicking as she looks around, wide-eyed and curious. You turn away, heading toward the closet where your bikini is draped over a chair. The fabric feels cool in your hands as you slip it on, the rich colour contrasting with your skin.

“So,” you begin, your voice casual but carrying a note of seriousness, “I was thinking… about that business opportunity that came up last week.” You glance over your shoulder as Rafe’s eyes flick up from Mabel, curiosity piqued. “The investment thing?” “Yeah,” you say, fumbling a little as you try to tie the back of your bikini. “I really think you should go for it." He stands, moving closer, his eyes shifting between your face and your chest as you adjust it.

"Turn around," he mutters, his hands brushing against your back as he pulls the strings into a neat knot. His fingers linger for a moment longer than necessary, and when you glance at the mirror, you catch the way his eyes roam over you—an intensity in his gaze that sends a slight shiver through you. "You really think it’s that good of a deal?" he asks, his voice low, his hands hovering at your waist. You meet his gaze through the mirror, feeling the heat of his hands lingering at the small of your back.

"Yeah, don't you?" You adjust the bikini strap on your shoulder. His hands drop to rest lightly on your hips, and for a second, he doesn't' respond. Lightly biting your lip as you wait for a response, he meets your gaze in the mirror, a slight smirk playing on his lips. His eyes stay locked on you, a mix of thoughtfulness and something more. "I think you should go for it." Rafe’s eyes darken with thought, but his smirk doesn’t fade. He pulls you a little closer, his grip firm but gentle, his chest pressing against your back.

“God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?” His tone is a mixture of amusement and consideration. You give him a playful look over your shoulder. “That’s what I’ve been saying. You’d be stupid not to take it.” He chuckles, his breath warm against the side of your neck as his lips brush against your skin, slowly at first. “You always know how to push me in the right direction,” he murmurs, the teasing lilt in his voice sending a warmth down your spine.

His hands glide up from your hips to your waist, pulling you just a little closer. You let out a soft breath, your heart quickening as his kisses trail lower. "You could make so much freakin’ money, Rafe,” you say, your voice a little breathless. Rafe grins against your skin, “Could I, now?” His voice is a teasing drawl as his lips move along your skin, causing a ripple of warmth to spread through you. You laugh softly, leaning back against him. “I’m serious!"

“So am I,” he whispers, his kisses slow and deliberate. His hands tighten slightly on your waist, his touch firm but tender. But just as you start to sink into the moment, Mabel lets out a whine, breaking through the intimate bubble. You both pause, exchanging a look before bursting into quiet laughter. Rafe pulls away first, shaking his head as he glances at Mabel. “Perfect timing, huh?” he says, his smirk playful but affectionate.

You walk over to Mabel, scooping her into your arms as she quiets down instantly, snuggling into your chest. “Guess we’re not the only ones who need attention,” you joke, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Rafe grins, his eyes following you. “She’s just jealous,” he says, tossing a towel into the beach bag. Rafe smirks, watching the two of you, his earlier intensity replaced with something softer. You laugh, bouncing Mabel lightly in your arms as she grabs onto your bikini strap with her tiny hand.

“Can you blame her? You spoil me,” you tease, glancing up at him. Rafe leans against the counter, his eyes never leaving you. “I’ll think about that deal,” he says, his voice a little more serious now. “Sounds like it could be good… for all of us.” You nod, bouncing Mabel lightly in your arms. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.” You say, brushing Mabel's hair. Rafe steps closer, wrapping one arm around your waist, pulling both you and Mabel into his chest as he presses a soft kiss to your head.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, his eyes meeting yours with a knowing look. “We’ll see.” You can tell, though, from the determined glint in his eyes that he already knows what he’s going to do.

[chvoswxtch]

teach me

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: you want frank to teach you self defense, but it doesn't quite go the way you expected.

warnings: swearing, some angst, mentions of guns, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 8.3k

a/n: what better way to end this year and start the new one than with our favorite hot bodyguard. don't ask me how many times I watched that scene with him and amy. it was for science. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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“You’re being a dick.”

“Hey, you said you wanted to learn.”

“You’re still being a dick.”

“Yeah yeah, you ain’t gettin’ no sympathy from me, sweetheart. Now c’mon, try again.”

It was a good thing the cabin was isolated in the middle of the woods, because if anyone had been looking in the living room window at that very moment, they would’ve definitely called the police in horror. Frank had a gun in his right hand that was trained on you, and while he wore a neutral expression on his face, your brows were furrowed in pure annoyance and there was a faint scowl on your lips.

Letting out a huff of irritation, you kept your eyes focused on the gun in Frank’s hand, getting back into somewhat of a fighting stance again. Clenching your hands open and closed a few times, your teeth sank down into your bottom lip before you suddenly rushed forward in an endeavor to take the gun out of his hand. 

But just like he had done the past seven times you tried this, Frank easily managed to block your attempt. He grabbed your wrist in his free hand and spun you around swiftly, pulling you back firmly against his chest while a deep chuckle sounded right next to your ear.

“That was real cute.”

Letting go of you, Frank took a step back and lightly pressed at the back of your knee with the heel of his boot, sending you down to your knees below him. He decided to take it a step further and used the toe of his boot to gently shove at your ass, causing your hands to fly out to catch yourself, rendering you on all fours in front of him. Turning to narrow your eyes at him over your shoulder, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth let you know that was very intentional.

“You know, if you wanted me on my knees, all you had to do was ask.”

“That right?”

Grumbling a string of curses under your breath, you pushed yourself back up onto your feet and turned around to shoot a death glare in Frank’s direction. His plush lips instantly parted into a crooked grin while he looked at you, cocking his head to the side slightly while his eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Aw, what’s wrong baby, hm?”

“I already told you, you’re being a dick. You’re supposed to be teaching me-”

“Then why don’t you quit actin’ like you know everythin’ and start askin’ questions, yeah?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what questions to ask? I asked you to teach me. Teach me means tell me what to do.”

“And when have you ever done what I told ya to?”

As you opened your mouth to protest, Frank arched one of his thick brows and shot you a pointed look, and your rebuttal quickly died on your tongue. You did have a history of ignoring his instructions completely and doing whatever you wanted anyway. With that in mind, you let out a deep exhale through your nose and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Okay, that’s…fair. But this is completely out of my area of expertise. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never even held a gun until four days ago. And for the record, when it comes to something serious, I do listen to you. This is serious, and I’m listening.”

Originally when you asked Frank to teach you self defense with a gun, he was completely against it. He made the argument that with him around, you wouldn’t have to worry about that, to which you reminded him of the incident where two people tried to kill you in your own home where you had nothing to protect yourself with and no knowledge of how to in the first place. 

The two of you went back and forth about it for at least an hour. He made the case that it was a one time incident that would never happen again, and argued that nothing was ever going to happen to you in the first place anyway because he showed up to take care of it. You argued back that Frank wouldn’t be by your side twenty-four seven anymore and would eventually be assigned to someone else, possibly taking him far away for extended periods of time.

In the end, you wore him down like you usually did until he gave in and you got your way.

Frank took in the impatient and stubborn expression covering your features, the one he had become all too familiar with and grown to adore. You were a force to be reckoned with when you wanted something, just as much as he was. Even though he didn’t want you to ever have a reason to use a gun, he would rather know you were safe and could handle yourself in his absence if it came down to it. 

“Alright, alright. Wipe that pout off your face and c’mere.”

Doing your best to conceal your tiny smile of victory, you went to stand in front of Frank, but he held his large hand out to stop you and motioned for you to move back a little.

“Keep your distance, okay? You don’t wanna be too close. Now, step one.”

Frank reached out to grab your wrist and brought your hand up towards the barrel of the gun, placing his large hand on top of your own and squeezing gently to signal for you to grab onto it. Once he felt your tight grip on the barrel, he slid his hand over to grab onto your forearm and pushed against it, which caused the gun in his right hand to shift directions. It was no longer aimed at you, but pointed at the wall to your left.

“You wanna take the gun offline, yeah? Look.”

Glancing up at him briefly, you nodded to show him that you were paying attention. When he pulled your arm back in the position it was before, aiming the gun at you once again, you quickly redirected your focus back to his large hands. To reiterate what he was trying to explain to you, Frank repeated his demonstration two more times to make sure you understood.

“Offline, right? Offline, right? And push hard, as hard as you can.”

While Frank’s eyes were locked on you as he demonstrated the first step, you were studying his movements, committing every detail to memory. It seemed simple enough in theory so far. Keep your distance, grab the barrel of the gun, and push it away from yourself hard. When he let go of your arm, you let go of the gun, and you looked up to see that Frank was already watching you.

“Show me.”

Without hesitating, you swiftly reached out to grab the barrel of the gun and forcefully pushed it to the left. Frank let you redirect it to a certain point, and then pushed back to hold the gun in place. His strength was something you couldn’t combat, and as you kept pushing at the barrel, his resistance  made the gun almost wobble in your hands. 

“Attagirl. Easy, easy. Relax.”

Frank reached out with his left hand and grabbed onto your wrist, gently squeezing it to steady your hand.

“Alright, now step two, you go for that wrist, yeah? You get control. Go.”

Immediately you reached out with your right hand to wrap your fingers around Frank’s wrist to grab onto it tightly. Giving a slight shake of his head, Frank pulled your hand off of his wrist and guided it underneath his wrist instead.

“Look, underneath, yeah? Underneath. Go for the joint. Joints are weakest.”

Everything Frank was showing you seemed so simple that it filled you with a false sense of confidence. With your right hand under his right wrist, you gripped onto the barrel tightly with your left hand and took a step back as you tried to tug it away, thinking it would spring loose. Frank let out a grunt of disapproval and pulled his right arm back, easily slipping the gun out of your grasp completely and causing you to stumble forward a bit. He had a somewhat stern look on his face as he wagged the gun in your direction twice.

“Easy, bang bang. Don’t ever pull a gun towards you. You push it away.”

Letting out a huff of annoyance as your previous overzealous confidence fizzled out, you looked up at Frank as he held his left hand out towards you to signal for you to stay in place. He wasn’t teasing you anymore like he had been earlier. This wasn't Frank that had made you strawberry pancakes and caressed your legs while they sat in his lap as the two of you shared breakfast this morning. This was Frank that nearly sent your ex to the morgue instead of prison. He was back in full protective bodyguard mode.

“Listen to me. Use your legs, get underneath, and twist. Don’t pull, twist. Yeah? C’mon, show me.”

Taking a deep breath, you gave a slight nod and went over the steps in your head. Grab the barrel of the gun, shove it away from yourself, slip your other hand under the wrist joint, and twist the gun away. Your lips faintly twitched as you silently recited the steps to yourself three times for good measure. Frank didn’t make a move to rush you. He kept his eyes on you and waited patiently until you were ready to give it a try. 

Sucking in one more deep breath, your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and you sprung into action. Taking a quick step forward, you reached out to tightly grab the barrel of the gun with your left hand, and while you pushed it away to the left, you simultaneously slipped your right hand under Frank’s wrist. Twisting the barrel of the gun forcefully to the right caused Frank’s wrist to twist with it until he was forced to let go, and in that short window of weakness you were able to pull the gun out of his hand with a hard step backwards.

Glancing down at the gun in your hands, your eyes went wide with surprise and your mouth hung open as you let out an incredulous laugh. 

“Holy shit, that actually worked!”

Frank held his hands up like you had just made a touchdown, and he started to clap as a proud tooth bearing grin stretched over his lips.

“Look at that, huh? Who got a gun, huh?”

Looking up at Frank, your lips parted into a huge grin of your own while you held it up like a trophy and spoke in a proud voice.

“I have a gun.”

“Attagirl. You’re goddamn right you do. You did good, sweetheart. Real good. Feels good, yeah?”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you let out a soft laugh while admiring the gun in your hands. Well, more so admiring the fact that you were able to actually take it from Frank. The only reason you felt comfortable holding the gun right now was because Frank had shown you the clip was empty before he started demonstrating the basics earlier. 

Pointing a loaded gun at Steven had been different. You were blinded in a fit of rage, not thinking clearly, but deep down you knew there was no way you would have actually pulled the trigger. However if you had been level headed, you probably wouldn’t have taken it from Billy, even if he offered. 

“Yeah…yeah it does.”

And it did feel good. It made you feel strong…less helpless. Frank was giving you back a sense of safety and security that had been stolen from you when you were first threatened by the Defenders of Freedom. Even if you never used this lesson, and you genuinely hoped you wouldn’t have to, you felt a surge of confidence knowing that you were at least capable of protecting yourself in some capacity. 

“Okay, step three.”

A pinch of confusion settled between your brows as you looked up at Frank when he mentioned a third step, and you noticed that he wasn’t smiling anymore. A grim look had settled over his features that sent a chill of unease down your spine.

“You just took a gun off someone that wanted to use it on you. What d’you do.”

The delight of pride had disappeared from his face and was swiftly replaced by a shadow of severity that was now coveting his sharp features, and the elated grin that was on your own lips had slowly fallen from grace. It was a rhetorical question you both knew the answer to, but you hadn’t factored in a third step. It hadn’t even crossed your mind, and Frank could see that in your eyes.

“You use it on them. Don’t matter who they are, you do not hesitate. You got that?”

Looking down at the gun in your hands, the weight of it was suddenly too heavy in your palms. Step three was a reminder that step one and two weren’t just to boost your confidence in protecting yourself; they were steps to defend yourself. Swallowing thickly, you nodded your head in silent understanding.

“Good. Show me.”

Frank’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. It wasn’t a command, but it wasn’t a suggestion either. Placing both of your hands on the gun the way he had shown you to properly hold it, you took a deep breath, slowly raising it to aim in Frank’s direction. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that he knew the clip was empty, or that this most likely wasn’t the first time he had stared down the barrel of a gun, but he looked completely unphased. The canvas of his face was expressionless, but his eyes were what you had learned to read. Only right now, you couldn’t understand what they were trying to tell you. 

The gun trembled slightly in your grasp, as if every cell in your body knew exactly how wrong it felt to point a gun at Frank, loaded or not. The self defense lesson you wanted for a possible yet highly improbable scenario had quickly become too heavy and realistic, and you were quickly regretting even asking for it.

“Show me.”

“I’m not doing that-”

“It ain’t loaded-”

“Frank, I don’t want to-”

“What’d I say, huh? I don’t care who it is, you do not hesitate. Ever. Now, show me you understand.”

Frank’s tone was a little more forceful, but the volume of it was still even and somewhat soft. You knew there were no repercussions if you didn’t pull the trigger. He had learned early on that he couldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to, and you trusted him enough to know that he would never try to force you. Frank never demanded anything of you, he always asked.

But you had asked for this, and he wanted you to follow through with it.

Clenching your jaw, you let out a shaky exhale through your nose, and you slowly squeezed the trigger like he had taught you to yesterday when you were out in the woods using cans as target practice. The click that sounded caused you to flinch, and it seemed to echo loudly in the living room. Frank on the other hand didn’t visibly react to it at all.

Without another word, you placed the gun down onto the coffee table a little too forcefully and headed towards the back door, wanting to put as much distance between it and yourself as possible. Frank caught your wrist before you could get too far and gently tugged you back towards himself.

“Hey-”

“I’m going for a walk.”

“No, you ain’t. You ain’t runnin’ away, you’re gonna stay here and talk to me. We ain’t doin’ that not communicatin’ shit. Why are you upset?”

“I told you I didn’t want to do that-”

“You asked me to teach you. I said no, but you kept on beggin’. What did you think this was gonna be, huh? You think you get a gun off someone, and it ends there? No. As soon as you get control and take it, you use it. No negotiatin’, no questionin’ it, you do it-”

“And what if I can’t, Frank?”

The distress in your voice made him pause and clench his jaw. He could see that you were visibly upset, and for a moment he wondered if he was being too hard on you. You said it yourself, this was not your area of expertise. It was his. Frank had years of professional training under his belt. Pulling a trigger was something he didn’t even have to think twice about. It was an automatic response. The aftermath of what followed didn’t even make him bat an eye. There were always casualties in war. 

But you weren’t a soldier, and having to actually pull the trigger on someone would be something that haunted you for the rest of your life if it came down to it.

Letting out a deep exhale through his large nose, Frank stepped forward and wrapped one of his arms around your waist to pull you into his embrace while using his other hand to slip his fingers gently into your hair to brush it back before cradling your face in his right hand.

“Listen to me. If it comes down to you, or someone else, you do whatever you gotta do to save yourself, you got that?”

The rational part of your brain knew that Frank was right. If you had taken a gun from Cavella or Walker, you would’ve had to shoot them. There’s no way they wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to kill you if they had it. But the emotional part of your brain was struggling to figure out if you could handle the consequences of taking someone’s life, justified or not. Frank could see the internal conflict in your eyes, and he lightly brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone as the rough timbre of his voice broke the tense silence.

“Hey, no one’s sayin’ you gotta shoot ‘em point blank, alright? I’ve seen your aim, and it ain’t all that great anyway. You’d be lucky to scare ‘em off with firin’ a terrible shot just so you could get away.”

Rolling your eyes at his comment, you let out a dry laugh. As much as you wanted to be annoyed, he was right. You were terrible. You didn’t hit a single can yesterday, even at close range. You did manage to scare the shit out of some crows in a tree though.

“You are such an ass.”

The edge of Frank’s mouth twitched up into a light smirk while giving your waist a gentle squeeze.

“And you’re cute thinkin’ you could actually do some damage. I know a blind guy that can hit targets better than you. Look, you gotta stop gettin’ upset ‘bout things that might not even happen, alright? If it ever comes down to it, remember that you’re the one controllin’ the gun, yeah? It ain’t controllin’ you. Wherever you aim, the bullet’s gonna go. You can shoot ‘em in the leg, foot, shoulder, hell shoot ‘em in the dick for all I care. That’ll keep ‘em down for a while. You just promise me you’ll pull that trigger. You get ‘em down however you want, and then you get the hell outta there. That’s all you gotta do, yeah?”

Frank dipped his head to catch your eyes, staring intently into them. Letting out a deep breath, you bit down on your bottom lip and nodded while placing your hands on Frank’s biceps. You could do that. Injuring someone just to get away was a lot more manageable for your conscience. Frank lightly grasped your jaw in his large hand, his bottom three fingers wrapping around your throat while his index finger and thumb held your jaw. He tipped your head back so that you had no choice but to look up at him.

“Lemme hear you say it.”

Staring up into his warm brown eyes, you gazed up at him silently for a moment before speaking.

“No hesitating. I promise.”

“Attagirl. C’mere.”

Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a soft and sweet kiss. Sometimes it amazed you how easily he was able to talk you down from the ledge. Frank was a man of few words, but he somehow always knew exactly which ones to say to ease whatever anxieties were weighing on your mind. And the distraction of his plush lips against yours also certainly helped.

Ever since the other night by the fireplace, every kiss between the two of you that started out soft and sweet had a way of evolving into something more passionate and insatiable. Maybe it was the months of denying your feelings for one another, or maybe there was just some magnetic pull between your souls, but whatever it was, neither of you could get enough.

Before you could even register that you were moving, Frank was lifting you up by your hips and setting you down on the dining table, his hungry kisses leaving a searing path along your jawline and down the column of your neck.

“Did good today, sweetheart. Did real goddamn good, made me so proud.”

Frank’s gravely songs of praise in your ear only further ignited the flame of desire that was burning in your lower belly. Despite the warmth of his large palm touching your bare skin as he slipped it underneath your shirt to caress your lower back, a shiver teasingly tumbled down your spine from the contact.

“I had a good teacher.”

“Nah, I think you’re just a natural, baby.”

“I thought I had terrible aim?”

“Didn’t say you were perfect. Everybody’s got their strengths and weaknesses.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it, and you could feel the rumble of Frank’s deep chuckle vibrating in his chest that was pressed against yours.

“Wow, you really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Castle.”

Frank pulled back slightly to look down at you, his eyes traveling over your figure to drink in the sight of you sitting on the edge of the dining table before they slowly wandered back up to meet your gaze. He arched one of his thick brows as a smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Yours are currently danglin’, sweetheart.”

Before you could retort with a smartass comment of your own, Frank’s mouth was back on your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin. Feeling his tongue gliding along your collarbone and giving it a delectable love bite, you closed your eyes and let your head fall back, granting Frank all the access he wanted to your skin.

The feeling of his lips on your neck was so heavenly you almost didn’t notice that he had popped the button on your jeans and tugged down your zipper until he was lifting you up slightly with one arm around your waist and pulling the denim down your hips with his free hand. As soon as your jeans were completely off, your own hands were reaching for Frank’s belt buckle, but he grasped your wrists and halted your attempt. A soft noise of protest quickly slipped past your lips.

“Frank-”

“Shh shh shh. Spread your legs for me, baby.”

A rush of heat pooled in your cheeks at his request, but you obliged immediately. Frank leaned in to kiss you deeply, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip and nipping at it softly while his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your panties and slipped them off too slowly for your liking. The sudden contact of the crisp autumn air coming in through the open windows hitting your slicked folds had you gasping, and Frank used that to his advantage by slipping his tongue into your mouth to caress your own sensually. 

“Spread ‘em wider for me, sweetheart. C’mon.”

Frank’s deep voice was quiet, but it nestled in your ears as comfortably as it did between your thighs. He pulled you a little more towards the edge of the dining table, and when you spread your legs further for him, he sank down to his knees in front of you and let out a low groan of appreciation at the sight waiting for him. 

“Attagirl, that’s it. God, look at you. You should see how fuckin’ pretty you look right now, baby.”

His large hands gripped onto your soft thighs, kneading and squeezing your flesh with his thick fingers. Frank didn’t waste a second before diving into your cunt face first. As soon as his warm and wet tongue began to strum your clit like chords to his favorite song, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. He brought your legs over his broad shoulders, burying his face so deep into your core, you weren’t sure how he was breathing.

Your hand quickly found a fistful of his slightly grown out hair that you gripped onto to steady yourself, and when you gave it an experimental tug, the vibration of his groan against your clit had your thighs trembling more than any toy you had ever gotten for yourself before.

“Fuck…Frank…”

Frank let out a loud grunt as he pulled back for just a moment to stare at your glistening pussy almost in awe, his hooded eyes briefly meeting your own for a second before focusing back on the display of your desire for him.

“Taste so good sweetheart, so fuckin’ good. You got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

He dove right back in, this time slipping his tongue inside of you to explore while using his large nose to bump against your clit repeatedly. The stimulation had your back arching off the dining table and a loud moan echoed throughout the cabin. Tugging harder at his dark roots, you pushed your hips up against his face, desperately and greedily searching for more. None of your exes had ever eaten you out like this before. Most of them didn’t even know what the fuck they were doing, and the rest gave up after a few minutes because it “took too long”, but still expected you to suck them off until your jaw ached.

But Frank…God, Frank knew what he was doing. His thick fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, following your hips wherever they went. The groans that continued to vibrate against your clit not only turned you on because of their stimulation, but because you could tell that Frank was genuinely enjoying eating your pussy. The fact that he was getting just as much pleasure out of it as you were had you on the brink of an orgasm alone. Frank had a way of making every experience feel brand new, and it made you realize just how much you had been missing out on in your previous relationships.

That familiar bubbly feeling was building up inside of you, cresting slowly like a tidal wave ready to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting beach. Your breaths were coming out in short staccato variations, and at this point you were roughy tugging at Frank’s hair with both hands while essentially fucking his face. Not that he seemed to mind at all. If anything, it just seemed to make him more feral.

“Yesyesyesyes…please-fuck, Frank…I…I…”

Frank pulled you even closer towards the edge of the dining table to where your ass was basically hanging off of it, and the jolt of his large palm smacking against your ass was the only indication you got that he understood what you were trying to tell him.

You thought you had more time, but your climax suddenly crashed into you without further warning, and your hips were stuttering as Frank continued his incessant assault on your pussy with his tongue. It seemed like he didn’t want to let a drop of your essence go to waste, and while you appreciated his enthusiasm, the way he was flicking his tongue rapidly against your overstimulated clit was riding that very thin line between pain and pleasure, and you were weakly shoving at his broad shoulders.

“Okay okay okay…Frank…fuck, please! Just…give me a second, God-”

Frank dragged his tongue up your entire pussy from your entrance to your clit one last time before granting you mercy with a low growl. While you panted heavily laying back against the dining room table, he was pressing featherlight kisses to each of your inner thighs, but due to your body feeling like a live wire, they felt like faint shocks that had your body jolting every time his wet lips met your heated skin. He chuckled deeply watching you respond to his touch.

“You alright there, sweetheart?”

Lifting your hand, you gave him a weak thumbs up, and Frank just laughed even louder in amusement at that. The sound of his laughter combined with your own blissed out post orgasm state had a lazy grin stretching over your lips. You felt his large and rough hands slipping underneath your shirt, gently caressing your bare skin and grabbing your waist while he leaned over you, kissing your lips deeply. The taste of your own sweet tang on Frank’s tongue had your head spinning, and a soft hum sounded in the back of your throat.  Even though you were still recovering from your first ever oral orgasm, the feeling of Frank’s hard cock straining against his jeans and rubbing against your inner thigh reignited your greed.

Brushing your hand slowly down his chest, you palmed him firmly through his jeans, and Frank let out a grunt while pushing himself further against your hand. He broke the kiss momentarily to nuzzle his large nose against your throat.

“If ya need a minute-”

“No. Now.”

While you unfastened his belt in record time, Frank placed his hands on the table on either side of your head and pulled back to look down at you with a soft chuckle at your impatience. He lightly cocked his head to the side, his brown eyes darkened with lust as they roamed over you shamelessly. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and a crooked smirk caressed his mouth.

“Anybody ever tell you what an impatient lil thing you are?”

A smirk of your own tugged across your lips while you slipped your hand into his jeans, stroking his thick cock through his briefs, earning a quiet grunt from Frank.

“Apart from you every day since we met? Maybe a few other people. Is my lack of patience really what you wanna talk about right now, big guy?”

The sultry tone of your voice did not go unnoticed by Frank, and in fact, it only made his cock swell even more in your welcoming hand. He slowly moved his hips back and forth as you teasingly stroked him and leaned down closer towards you, nuzzling his nose along your throat before whispering huskily into your ear.

“Got somethin’ better in mind.”

By the time Frank had carried you down the hall to the master bedroom, the two of you had left a trail of forgotten items of clothing strewn like breadcrumbs along the path from the kitchen. He let you push him back against the mattress and grabbed your hips to pull you on top of him, his lips moving in sync with your own, but when you felt the swollen head of his cock bump against your clit, you suddenly pressed your palms firmly against his chest and pulled back while breaking the kiss.

“Wait.”

Frank immediately paused, loosening his grip on your hips, his lust clouded eyes clearing a bit while searching your own and wandering over your figure for the source of the problem.

“What? What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

The concern in his rough timbre combined with the worry in his soft brown eyes made your heart melt. A gentle smile covered your lips while you reached out to delicately hold his strong jaw in your hands, and you leaned in to kiss his lips softly.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t think it’s fair you get to have all the fun.”

Frank’s apprehension morphed into confusion, and a few creases nestled between his thick brows. 

“Huh?”

Letting out a soft laugh at how adorable he looked when he was confused, you decided to explain with actions instead of words. When you moved backwards off his lap to settle between his legs, Frank raised himself up on his elbows, following you with his eyes as he watched you intently. 

“What are you-holy shit.”

Frank’s jaw went slack the second you leaned in and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it once before beginning to take a few inches into your mouth. Placing one of your hands on his left hip, you teasingly moved your lips up his length until he was out of your mouth with a satisfying pop. Pursing your lips, you let a string of glistening saliva slowly drop onto his tip and used your free hand to spread it down the rest of his thick cock for lubrication, and after wrapping your fingers around his girth, you began to twist your wrist up and down slowly. 

You could feel how tense he was through your hold on his hip. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you noticed that he was staring directly at you, completely mesmerized, and was gripping onto the sheets so tightly you thought he might rip them. Moving your hand from his hip, you reached out to caress his hand, and he slowly loosened his grip, his knuckles no longer stark white. His plush lips were parted, and he was breathing hard, his thick brows knit in complete focus. You allowed him to slip out of your mouth for just a moment to smile softly up at Frank.

“Just relax.”

The sweet sound of your voice seemed to reach his ears, and after a few more moments of hesitation, Frank finally laid back against the mattress and let his head rest on the pillows. He moved the hand that was underneath yours to grab your wrist, turning your hand over so he could slot his fingers between yours to hold it. His other hand slowly came over to card his fingers through your hair before cradling the back of your head. Giving his hand that you were holding a light squeeze, you continued to hold eye contact with Frank while slowly sucking him off, using your hand that was around his base to work over what wouldn’t fit in your mouth.

The sound of his quiet grunts and low moans sent a thrill through you, and you wanted to know just how vocal he could get. Letting go of his hand, you placed both of your palms firmly on his hips and relaxed your jaw completely, taking his entire cock into your mouth until his tip hit the back of your throat. A guttural groan ripped from the depth of his chest and his lower abdomen instantly tensed up as he gripped onto your hair.

“Goddamn-fuck…fuck, sweetheart. Do…do that again. Please…please baby, do it again.”

Taking in a deep inhale through your nose, you prepared yourself to deepthroat Frank’s thick cock again, and this time you held him there until your eyes started to water. He let out a louder moan of your name, and that caused the throbbing between your thighs to evolve from dull to downright unbearable. You thought about sneaking your hand downwards to get a little relief, but Frank had been so unselfish when he ate you out, only focused on your pleasure, and he deserved that same treatment. 

All of a sudden, Frank roughly tugged at your hair, and that made you moan around his cock. You heard him let out a quiet fuck under his breath in response. He gave your hair another tug to get your attention, and his cock slipped from your lips as you licked them and tried to catch your breath while staring at him, noticing that he had sat up.

“C’mere.”

He didn’t give you a chance to protest before he grabbed your throat and pulled you in close to kiss you fervently. Frank’s large and rough hands grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap again, and you let out a soft whine against his lips when the head of his cock rubbed against your sensitive clit. 

“Frank, I didn’t get to finish-”

“As much as I’d love to come down that pretty throat, I need ya baby. Need ya now.”

Grabbing the base of his cock, Frank positioned himself perfectly with your entrance and pulled you down slowly, letting you feel every single inch of him. Your mouth hung open at the sensation, and your body instantly tensed up. You thought Frank had been deep the other night, but he was reaching an even greater depth inside of you right now if that was possible. There was a slight burn as your walls stretched to accommodate his size, but your brain barely even registered it, because Frank was slipping his tongue into your mouth and kissing you sensually as if he wanted to steal the very essence of life from your lungs. 

Once he was fully nestled deep inside of you, a high pitched cry left your mouth, and he wrapped his arm around your waist tightly.

“Shh…s’alright. Just relax for me, sweetheart.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you clung to Frank as he wrapped both of his strong arms around your waist and held you tightly against his chest. Both of you sat there for a moment, your foreheads pressed together as you panted. He rubbed his large calloused hand up and down your spine soothingly, his teeth grazing along your ear lobe and biting down gently to distract you from any discomfort. Slowly, the tension in your body melted, and you gave an experimental roll of your hips that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“That’s it…attagirl. Take your time, sweetheart. M’right here. I got you.”

This felt right. It felt…perfect. Those three little words almost slipped out right there. Grabbing onto the back of his neck, you pulled Frank in for a passionate kiss, trying to pour every ounce of emotion you felt into it. He groaned quietly against your lips when your nails lightly scratched at the back of his head where his hair was shaved closely to his scalp. Moving your hips in slow circles, you grinded down onto Frank’s cock, and he flexed his hips upwards to match your rhythm. The other night by the fireplace had been the best experience of your life, but this…this was something you couldn’t put into words.

Placing your palms against Frank’s firm chest, you pressed lightly and he followed your silent instructions, allowing you to push him onto his back. His large hands gripped firmly onto your hips as he gazed up at you, and you kept your palms flat on his chest while slowly riding his cock. Neither of you could tear your eyes away from each other. The feeling of his warm hands leisurely moving up your bare skin made you shiver, and a soft gasp left your lips when he groped your breasts and squeezed gently. The calloused pad of his thumb gingerly brushing over your peaked nipple had you arching your back, pressing your chest further into his eager hands.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

The sincerity in Frank’s vulnerable whisper nearly brought tears to your eyes. He wasn’t saying it because he thought it was what you wanted to hear, he was saying it because he felt it, and he was making you feel it too. The way he was staring up at you like you were the only thing that mattered had your heart swelling inside your ribcage like a balloon about to burst. It had been a long time since you mattered to someone, and you felt lucky it was Frank. The look in his eyes was almost too much to handle.

Letting your head fall back, you closed your eyes for a moment as you writhed on top of Frank, getting completely lost in how good it felt to be connected to him in such a raw and intimate way. One of his hands traveled up from your breast towards your throat, and he wrapped his fingers tightly around it almost entirely, forcing you to face him again. He pulled you down over him so that your forehead was pressed to his, and the two of you stared deeply into each other's eyes. 

“Frank-”

“I wanna see you. Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come for me. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

Being this close to him, you noticed for the first time that there were scattered flecks of honey in his deep brown eyes. They looked so warm and inviting, like two melted pools of chocolate you wanted to drown in. The eyes that could say so much with a single look. You thought you could see it…that flicker that he felt it too. You wanted to tell him so fucking badly, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment, and the way he was hitting that spongy spot inside of you that could cause supernovas to appear behind your eyelids was making it hard for you to speak at all.

Holding his face in your hand, your eyes drifted back and forth between his own as you stared down at him in complete devotion, your lips parted as you nodded your head frantically while short and breathy moans escaped you. Frank’s eyes were focused solely on you, one of his hands holding the back of your head while his other remained around your throat. It was getting harder and harder for you to keep your eyes open, but you didn’t want to miss a single second of this moment.

It was also getting harder and harder to not voice the sentiment that was overflowing from your ribcage.

“Frank…I…I-”

Frank cut off your words by capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The softness of his lips against yours, the heat of his bare skin pressed to your own, his thick fingers wrapped around your neck and tangled in your hair, his pubic bone rubbing just right against your clit…it was all too much. Breaking the kiss, you buried your face into the crook of his neck and let out a sharp cry of his name. Your nails raked harshly down his chest when your climax finally peaked, and a white hot cloud of hedonistic desire blinded your vision. 

Your entire body seized up, and you could faintly hear Frank whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he gripped your hips and repeatedly thrust up into you, fucking you through your orgasm while barreling towards his own. The sensation of that alone was enough to nearly send you free falling into another. The intensity of your orgasm had rendered you an incoherent and moaning mess. Frank dug his fingers roughly into the flesh of your hips and came with a deep grunt that nearly sounded like a growl, letting out a loud groan of your name.

The room felt like a sauna. Your face felt overheated, and your hair was stuck to your cheeks and the back of your neck with sweat. Frank had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, hugging you against his chest. The feeling of his strong heartbeat thundering against your own chest kept you anchored to the moment while your body trembled with aftershocks. You couldn’t move, and you didn’t want to.

As soon as Frank made a move to sit up and pull out of you, a desperate and high pitched whine of protest fell from your lips while you gripped onto his shoulder and dug your nails into the muscle.

“No no no no no, please…don’t move.”

Frank instantly stilled, bringing one of his hands up to brush the sweaty hair stuck to your forehead and neck away. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead and gave your body a gentle squeeze in his strong arms.

“Okay, we don’t gotta move yet.”

Letting out a soft sigh of relief, you buried your face further into Frank’s neck, letting the comforting scent of his cologne calm you. He gently carded his thick fingers through your hair and kept holding you tightly to his chest while resting his head against your own.

“I just wanna stay like this for a while.”

“We can stay like this as long as you want, sweetheart.”

When you started to regain your senses, you started to wonder just how true that statement was. 

How long could you and Frank stay like this before reality came knocking?

Your home wouldn’t always be a crime scene. Eventually the two of you would have to go back to work. Now that everything had changed between the two of you, what would a new normal look like? Frank’s job required him to be with someone constantly. What happens when he gets assigned to someone else? What if it’s another woman? Even though Frank was broody and unapproachable initially, you had still found him attractive, and all the time you spent together over the past few months led you right here to this moment.

What if that happened with someone else? What if the next woman he was assigned to found him just as attractive? What if she wanted him? You and Frank hadn’t really established what this was between the two of you. Were you together? Did he want to be together? Would he still want to be together if the next woman was prettier and less stubborn and actually-

“Quit it.”

The sound of his deep voice breaking through the silence interrupted your spiraling. 

“What?”

“Whatever you’re overthinkin’ right now, let it go.”

Removing your face from the crook of Frank’s neck, you pulled back slightly to peer down at him in pure curiosity.

“How do you even-”

“I can practically hear the gears turnin’ in your head, sweetheart. You keep thinkin’ so hard, smoke’s gonna start comin’ out of your ears.”

Giving him a pointed look expressing you weren’t amused, he let out a quiet chuckle and gently brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.

“C’mon, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry ‘bout right now. Just relax, yeah?”

Letting out a soft sigh, you nodded and laid your head back against Frank’s shoulder, nuzzling your nose against his neck as he hugged onto you tightly. For a while, you two laid there wrapped up in one another, and you were able to let some of your anxieties go. The afterglow of your shared euphoria was peaceful, and you could’ve even fallen asleep at that moment, but something Frank said earlier suddenly popped back into your head. 

“Hey Frank?”

“Hm?”

“Do you really know a blind guy that has a good aim with guns?”

Frank let out a quiet snicker at your question.

“He don’t use guns. He’s too…Catholic.”

That did nothing to answer your question and only fueled you with more inquiries.

“But…you said he could hit targets better than I could.”

Frank simply grunted in response. You stayed silent waiting for further explanation, but when one didn’t come, you continued your questions.

“How?”

“Hell if I know.”

Sitting up a little bit again, you stared down at Frank in complete puzzlement.

“But…he’s blind. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No it don’t.”

“So…he’s-”

“An asshole. Go to sleep.”

Letting out a soft laugh, your eyes widened slightly as you gently smacked his chest.

“Frank!”

“What? Cause he’s blind he can’t be an asshole?”

“Well…no. But…how does he do it?”

“You’ll have to ask ‘em yourself.”

“I thought Billy was your only friend.”

Frank pulled a look of faux offense at that, his thick brows knit as he let out a puff of air through his lips.

“Ouch. I got other friends, smartass. And I never said he was one. He’s more of a pain in my ass.”

Frank gently pinched your ass which made you squeal before erupting into a fit of laughter.

“Hey!”

A huge grin split across your lips as he suddenly flipped you both over, managing to keep himself nestled inside of you while he pinned you beneath his large body. As he leaned in to kiss your lips, you brought your index finger up and pressed it against his mouth.

“I’m not done. I have more questions.”

“Course you do.”

“I wanna know who this mystery blind man is with good aim, and your other friends that you suddenly have that you’ve kept from me. While you’re at it, is there anything else you’re hiding, Castle?”

While your question was intended to be teasing, a dark look flashed across Frank’s eyes, and it made your breath hitch in your throat. He stared down at you silently for a moment, and it made you wonder just how much more there was to Frank that you hadn’t uncovered yet. As soon as you removed your finger from his lips, Frank leaned in closer, caging you in with his large hands on either side of your head. As he loomed over you, he slowly thrust his hips against your own, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. His breath was warm against your lips while he nuzzled his large nose along your own, his rough voice coming out in a husky whisper.

“Think I liked you better when the only thing you could say was my name, sweetheart.”

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[riki-dazed]

Take a video; it'll last longer

suggestive · wc 549

Your steps halted abruptly after opening the door, a quiet gasp slipping from your lips. The sound broke the hushed stillness of your boyfriend's dorm room as your gaze remained fixed on the scene before you.

Riki let out a soft chuckle as you watched him slide a pair of sweats over his boxers, his back remaining turned towards you. You hadn't intended on walking into him changing, though, you had no intention of leaving.

Your gaze followed the outline of his figure as he pulled a clean, white tank top over his bare skin. The smug boy turned around just at the right time, allowing for you to catch a glimpse of his toned torso.

"Take a picture, babe; it'll last longer," you could hear the smirk in which played behind his playful tone, and yet, it sounded like it was laced with a hint of something more.

Instead of retreating in embarrassment, you found yourself wanting to become bolder than you usually are during moments like these. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you proceeded to grab your phone out of your pocket. One of Riki's eyebrows raised in surprise as he watched you step towards him.

As much as he wanted to keep his composure calm, and cool in front of you, he couldn't deny the fact that he could feel an array of butterflies erupt within his stomach as you approached him. The sight of you alone did unspeakable things to his brain. A small, warm smile found it's way across his lips as he welcomed you into his personal space.

After swiftly opening the camera app and hitting record, you handed him the device.

"Turn around and hold it still," your voice was calm, yet firm, "Okay, baby?"

Riki remained silent as he followed your instructions. He soon found himself facing the mirror he was previously changing in front of.

You stepped in front of him.

"Send me the video later—?" his voice had dropped a few octaves all of a sudden as he scanned the features of your face carefully, your chest tightening at the smooth sound of it.

You began to caress the soft skin beneath his tank, your fingers leaving light traces across his buldging abdominal veins.

"Only if you be good."

Riki's stomach caved beneath the soft touch of your hands at your response. He was your good boy, after all.

With your back facing the mirror, he ensured you were still seen in the frame of your phone as he recorded the both of you through the large piece of glass. He watched you like a hawk. The way you knelt before him caused his breath to already start hitching within the back of his throat.

Riki needed you.

Badly.

The both of you held eye contact as you untied the strings of his sweats, nothing but his almost-shaky breaths were heard within the quiet room. With the way Riki's mouth hung open slightly, it looked as if he was about to drool over the sight of you. He ran a hand through the strands of his dark hair, stopping for a moment to pull at his roots from anticipation, as you successfully undressed him.

You too were salivating, eagerly anticipating what was about to come.

...

Copyright © 2024 riki-dazed. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.

[81sainz]

11:34PM ★ M. VERSTAPPEN

★ PAIRING: secretboyfriend!max x female!reader

★ GENRE: secret relationship, NSFW

★ WORD COUNT: 880

★ SUMMARY: you’re usually good at keeping your hands off of your secret boyfriend in front of a crowd, that is until a few drinks makes you insatiable.

★ WARNINGS: oh boy…alcohol consumption (but no one is drunk), making out, tongue kissing, dirty talk, oral (m. receiving), cum eating/swallowing, descriptions of spit, bathroom sex, descriptions of max’s dick, and uhhh think that is all!

★ AUTHORS NOTE: just a little something for the girlies here…hope we’re feeling good about this vegas gp weekend! Im nervous like every race weekend. lol. but I do have a new set of lando nails to be patriotic 🏁 btw idk if the ending is abrupt I did nawttt want the scene to keep going lol I said CUT!! but hope you enjoy babes.

“You’re fucking crazy.” Max could hardly catch his breath as he kissed you, his tongue tasting slightly of gin and tonic. “Someone’s going to catch us.”

You and max had been secretly seeing each other; not telling any of your friends in your close knit group. Everything always went according to plan, you both never gave off the vibe that there was something more than just a good friendship.

Until now, at a house party with a large attendance you thought it would be easy to stay away from each other. Both of you promised not to have too many drinks to not slip up and say or do something that they shouldn’t.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself and dragged Max into the nearest bathroom that you could find apart from the crowd.

“Nobody saw me.” You answered abruptly, gasping when his large hand squeezed your bare thigh after propping you up onto the countertop to be level with him. “I needed you…”

Max’s hips jolted forwards when you reached down to feel his bulge in his jeans, taking note that he already had somewhat of an erection.

“Fuck…” Max sighed at the feeling of your touch.

“Can you make sure the door is locked?” You spoke the moment that your fingers landed on his Hermes belt buckle.

“What? Yeah.” Max was clearly in another world as you broke the silence as he turned partially to make sure the door was in fact locked.

Before he could even look back at you, you were already getting to work undoing his belt.

“Finish for me?” You asked; max nodding in agreement to whatever you had asked of him. You quickly hopped off of the bathroom counter and got on your knees in front of him.

“My god…” Max spoke, finishing lowering his pants and underwear for you as you waited for him.

You shushed him. “Don’t be loud.” The music outside was far too loud for anything to be heard, but you didn’t trust anybody to not get curious and put their ear to the door.

Any sign of protest was gone once Max felt your tongue against the tip of his cock; making him suck in a harsh breath.

“Stick out your tongue.” Max suddenly spoke, and you did what he said. He gripped the base of his cock, smacking the tip against your tongue. “You’re gonna get me in trouble, you know that?”

You smirked, replacing his hand with yours as you stroked his length with whatever lubricant the saliva from your tongue offered; spitting on it when it seemed like not enough.

Max usually had good stamina, but this time you hoped you’d break him before anybody realized the two of you might be missing together.

You wrapped your lips around his tip; hollowing your cheeks to suck him in your mouth just the way that he liked.

You felt him hit the back of your throat, but you pushed further until your nose nearly touched the patch of stubble near the base of his cock. Hearing a grunt from Max, you pulled back slightly to fuck your throat with his cock.

“Oh my fucking god.” Max spoke, trying so hard not to moan as he leaned his head back.

You pulled off of him, and he looked back down at you just in time to see a thick string of saliva attached to his cock to your mouth. He whimpered slightly when you stroked his length again, giving proper attention to his tip that was super sensitive by now.

“Fuck, keep doing that…” The way Max’s voice sounded had you wanting to stop everything, pull up your dress and have him rail you into tomorrow on the bathroom counter.

“God, I love your cock.” You spoke finally, after releasing his cockhead from your lips with a lewd pop.

“Yeah? Gonna let me cum in your mouth?” Max was almost taunting you, because he knew you wouldn’t say no.

“Please, please.” You whined before Max quickly leaned down to grab your jaw, making you sit up onto your knees higher. He kissed you sloppily as he was stroking himself with his free hand.

His breathing was getting erratic, and you opened your mouth; sticking out your tongue for him to finish in your mouth as he pleased.

“Fuck.” Max swore under his breath as he tried to be as quiet as possible, all while trying to steady his breathing.

You eventually got up off of the floor with Max’s help before he fixed his clothes.

“Does my makeup look okay?” You looked at yourself in the mirror before looking to Max.

“Well uh not really.” Max laughed before fixing some of your smeared lipgloss.

“No, don’t tell me that!” You looked back into the mirror, not wanting to make it obvious what you were doing. “That’ll be embarrassing if someone points it out.”

Max turned you to face him. “Listen. I’ll find the girls, and tell them I’m taking you home.” His speech was paused by him kissing you quickly, then he was whispering. “And then you sneak out and meet me at my car, okay?”

You tried not to laugh because somehow even Max trying to whisper wasn’t that quiet. “Okay, be quick please.”

[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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[angelltheninth]

His Soul to Wed

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, marriage proposal, kiss, soul contract, making a deal with Alastor

Word count: 0.5k

Ao3

A/N: Truly don't see him proposing in any other way.

While not particularly touchy Alastor did have his moments of romance and affection. Although tonight was highly suspicious, even for him. Never the most trustworthy sort, that boyfriend of yours, always scheming behind the scenes for something or other. You were no exception to those schemes.

"I know you're planning something, Al, I can tell by the way you're looking at me." His fingers tapped against the table at your accusation, the smooth song suddenly broken by an almost deafening snapping of strings. "Alastor? What are you planning?"

He could never look innocent, even when he was innocent he was still a suspect. This suited him, it meant that the Radio Demon always got front row seats to any and all drama in the Hotel. "Since you're onto me darling I suppose I could do this now. A shame however, as I had a whole song and speech ready for this."

With a snap of his fingers the mood in the room shifted. From a warm red and orange glow to an eerie green. His shadow demons retracted back below his feet as he set his microphone aside and walked over to your side of the table. His hand dragged and left scratches in the once smooth wooden table. Normal people would run to save their souls under these circumstances.

You weren't normal people, you were Alastor's girlfriend.

"Darling, we've spent the last 10 years together. In that time we've had... a long distance relationship because of circumstances outside of my control." Radio static pierced your ears for a moment, "Regardless both you and I have remained faithful to each other. I value your love and your loyalty."

Alastor kissed your hand and immediately went down on one knee, letting his intentions be known. "Al..." You barely choked back a sob.

"Will you be mine?" Alastor presented you with a red box, and a pretty obsidian and ruby ring. Despite his wide grin you could see by the way his ears and tail twitched, that he was nervous.

You also caught onto the wording of his question. Be his, not his wife, not his partner, be his.

No wonder the mood in the room felt so different from before. It wasn't the light, it wasn't the adrenaline that was making it hard for you to breathe, but the realization that what Alastor was asking for was not just for you to marry him and stay by his side, but your very soul to be his.

"I'll be yours." Alastor's grin got impossibly wider as he slid the ring on your ring finger, his magic wrapping around you both, cold and then warm and then cold again. It didn't happen but your brain registered a biting pain from the ring, as if it was biting down on your finger. Ever the perceptive one Alastor saw your frown.

"Thank you for trusting me with your soul, darling. I promise I'll take good care of it." He didn't mention taking care of you and as he pulled you in for a kiss all the cold left your body, you were safe with him, despite no longer owning your soul, you knew nothing could touch you.

[uluvjay]

So long, London- L. Norris

Lando Norris x fem! Reader

In which you have to say goodbye

Warnings?; angst, toxic relationship, lying, cursing, lando being a bit of an asshole, crying, one sided love, feeling unwanted and lonely, this is kinda old and hardly proof read so i apologize for any errors!

Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away

You could tell when things when first got rocky, the way he went from being connected to your hip at all times to being as far away from you as possible.

The way his once lingering touch would now drop the second there were no longer cameras or people to keep an act up for.

How he couldn’t be bothered to give you more then a pathetic forehead kiss and small side hug when he would once kiss you breathless and hold you so tight you almost couldn’t breathe.

But you always did your best to pull him back in, sitting down and having talk after talk about how you were feeling and telling him that if he wanted to leave then he needed to instead of stringing you along.

The conversations always ended the same, him with soft tears in his eyes while you were sobbing, him telling you he’d change and do better and that you were were all he wanted.

And he’d make the changes he promised to, dates as often as possible, nights once against spent together, his eyes never straying from you.

But that only lasted so long before he was back to his old ways.

My spine split from carrying us up the hill

Eventually overtime the constant chasing and fighting had began to take its toll on you, and everyone had began to notice.

“Y/n Darling are you doing okay? You look exhausted.” Adam spoke from his spot next to you.

You smiled politely at your boyfriend’s dad, “yeah just haven’t been sleeping the best.” You shrugged the lie spilling effortlessly from your mouth.

You could tell that the older man didn’t believe you but instead of prying he just nodded and pulled you into a tight hug.

You hadn’t realized just how bad you needed that hug until you were silently crying in the man’s arms, body shaking as all of your built up emotions came spilling out.

Adam turned you two, his back facing the entrance of the garage incase any cameras decided to pan inside, not wanting them to catch you in this state.

“You know you can speak to me about anything right? Even if it’s my son, you’re apart of this family too.”

You wanted to laugh at the man’s words, in what world would you be able to open up to the man about the fact that you were almost certain his son didn’t love you anymore but both of you were refusing to let go.

“I know, thank you.” You spoke softly.

I didn’t opt in to be your odd man out

You only realized how bad things had gotten when you got a text from Max asking why you weren’t at dinner.

What dinner? I didn’t even know you were in town

When the Brit left you on read you understood that even he had began to connect the dots and that his best friend had been lying to the both of you.

He had told you he was going to a business dinner while he sat across from his best friend and told him that you couldn’t make it to dinner because you already had plans made prior.

Max was pissed to say the least but he wasn’t one to cause a scene and decided it would be best to bring it up with lando tomorrow when they went to play paddle.

“How was dinner with Max and P?” You questioned as he stepped in the living room.

“What’re you talking about? It was a bus-“

“Don’t even try it Lando, max texted asking where I was.” You scoffed before standing on your feet and heading down the hall towards your room.

“Fuck.” He groaned quickly following after you.

“Baby please, I’m sorry I lied-“ he tried but was quickly shut up by the bedroom door slamming in his face and the lock clicking.

“Sleep in the guest room, we’ll talk tomorrow.” You spoke and he could hear the sadness in your tone.

My friends said it isn’t right to be scared

“I just don’t know what more I can do, I try so hard and things just aren’t changing. I feel unwanted and uncomfortable in my own house, I’m anxious to even go home sometimes because I don’t know what the night will hold.” You ranted to Kika and Pierre as you laid on the lush carpet of their living room floor.

“Darling it isn’t right to be scared, you shouldn’t have to have these worries, this isn’t love.” The model cooed as she took a seat next to you and held your hand tightly.

“I know, but I look at him and for some reason I still picture a future and see the man I want to start a family with..I just don’t think he sees that with me anymore.” You shrugged sadly.

“Oh honey.” Kika whispered before laying beside you and throwing and arm over you, holding you tightly.

“I don’t know what to do.” You whispered to no one in particular but Pierre caught it.

“It’s not what you want to hear but as one of your closest friends I’m going to tell you the truth, it’s time to leave Y/n.” The boy began, also moving to sit on the carpet on your other side.

“You’re doing nothing but hurting yourself and we can all see how hard this has been on you, you’re not yourself.” He continued.

“Where am i supposed to go? I gave up everything back home to move with him, he’s been in my life since we were little kids, he’s all I’ve ever known.” You croaked, a small tearing escaping.

The couple shared a look, hating how their once bubbly and out going friend had became someone they didn’t recognize, a girl so broken and hurt.

“You can stay here until you figure something out, we have the room and with Pierre being gone for races and me working there’s hardly anyone ever here.” Kika spoke up.

“No-I couldn’t do that, I don’t want to intrude.” You shook your head.

“You’re not intruding, we’re asking you to stay, we don’t want you living like this anymore.” Pierre spoke up.

You took a moment to think about it, were you really going to pull the plug and leave? After spending all of your youth with Lando and giving him all you ever had?

“Okay.” You nodded.

Just how low did you think I’d go ‘fore I self-implode? ‘Fore I’d have to go be free?

A few weeks later while the boys were gone for a double header you and Kika packed everything you owned, boxes and boxes stacked into the back of the large car you’d rented.

You cried in the girls arms as you looked around the place you had called home for the past few years, hearing aching in your chest as it processed that this was it, it was over now.

You’d written a note, placed it on the kitchen counter next to the necklace you wore with his name on it and your key to the apartment along with the keys to the car he’d gotten you for your birthday.

You two hadn’t spoken in days so having to keep him from getting suspicious wasn’t hard, he’d have no clue that he’d return from a different country to find you and your belongings gone.

And that’s exactly what happened, the boy sighed as he slid his key in the lock, his body aching and exhausted from the back to back races and constant time changes.

“Baby?” He called stepping into the dark apartment, it wasn’t like you to be out at nine pm but he shrugged it off and pushed up the light switch that was next to the door.

However his stomach dropped as the apartment lit up, all of your shoes that had been on the shoe rack were gone, your favorite blanket that had always been on the back of the couch gone as well.

He dropped his bookbag before darting towards the shared bedroom, his heart racing as he found your vanity that once sat in the corner of the room gone, your side of the bed perfectly made as if someone had slept there in days.

Reality crashed down on him when he walked into the closet to find all of your things gone, your key to the safe sitting on top of one of the shelves and the boy couldn’t help but to open it up only to find that all of the expensive pieces he bought you were sat contently inside, your custom Richard Mille still right next to all of his.

Getting back on his feet he raced back into the entryway for his phone, however the sight of something on the kitchen counter caught his attention.

He felt tears prick his eyes at the sight of your necklace laying beside a folded up paper, the necklace he got you at seventeen, the necklace that you hadn’t taken off since the day he put it on you.

“She’s gone.” He whispered to himself, picking up the note and reading what you had to say, full on sobs escaping the boy by the time he had made it to the end.

And I’m just getting color back into my face

It was almost a year before he saw you again, he watched as you walked into Pierre’s birthday Party on Kika’s arm.

Your skin was glowing and the laugh flowing from your mouth was genuine as well as the smile that tugged on your lips.

He felt his stomach twist as he realized how good you were doing, how good and happy you looked, without him.

You wouldn’t admit it but your eyes had found him as soon as you walked into the venue, however you didn’t let him see the way that your heart hurt by just the simple sight of him.

However your best friend caught it and was quickly spewing out apologies, “I’m sorry, I told Pierre it was a bad idea bu-“

“Kika it’s okay, I know their friends as well, I’m not mad.” You laughed at the girl’s rambling.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” You smiled, “now let’s go get drinks and hit the dance floor.” You smirked dragging her towards the loaded bar.

You two ended up spending a good bit of time on the dance floor, dancing until your feet were aching and you decided it was time for a short break and some fresh air.

“I’m gonna get some air, I’ll be right back.” You spoke into your friends ear.

“Okay.” She smiled before spinning from your body into her boyfriend’s opened arms.

You smiled at the pair before making your way off the dance floor and to the small balcony on the floor above, allowing yourself to be cooled off by the soft breeze of the evening air.

You were so caught up in your relaxation that you missed the sound of the door opening and shutting or the presence of the British driver behind you until he spoke up.

“You left me.”

You jumped at the sound of his voice, the voice you hadn’t heard in nine months.

“It was for the best.”

“What just leaving? Not giving me any explanation or warning? You pretty much abandoned ship and left me hanging.” He scoffed.

“I abandoned the ship?” You scoffed, “Lando I fought day in and day out for us, I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“But I loved you!, no actually I still do, you’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

“If you loved me so much then where was the proof? Huh? Because I sat around hoping and praying to the gods above for you to change and for things to get better but they never did.” You cried.

“I was trying okay?! I was doing my best to make things better-I just needed time.” He exclaimed, his hands tugging on his messy curls.

You laughed at his words, turning back to face the skyline of the small city, the wind making the tears on your cheeks feel like ice.

“I explained everything in the note.” You mumbled after a few moments of silence.

“I know I read it..I-i just don’t know why you wouldn’t let me fix things.” He spoke.

“I tried Lando, so many fucking times. I waited and waited for you change and for you to realize how much I love you but you never did so I gave up, I couldn’t keep doing that to myself.”

You kept your eyes trained on the view of the city even as he came to stand beside you, your heart aching for you to lean into him and give it what it so desperately wanted, but you couldn’t.

“Is there ever going to be a chance for us again?” He spoke up.

Your body shook at his words, tears streaming down your face at this point, “I don’t think so Lan, I love you I really do I just don’t think we’re meant to be together anymore.” You whispered turning towards him.

“You’ll find someone one day, and I hope that you never put her through what I went through in the end. You gave me some of the best years of my life but, this is the end for us.” You cried, unconsciously reaching up to wipe the tears off of his tanned cheeks.

Your heart clenched at the way he leaned into your touch, his body yearning for you just as much as yours was for him.

“I’ll always love you.” He cried.

“I’ll always love you too.” You sobbed stroking his cheek one last time before placing a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips before stepping back and heading inside.

Leaving your past behind you and continuing to heal yourself.

So long, London..

[sthwaaberry]

firsts - k.hongjoong

wc: 550+

pairing: subby virgin hongjoong x fem reader

warnings: p w/o plot, handjob, blowjob, make out scene, mention of sex, lmk if i missed anything (not proofread!)

hongjoong had a lot of his firsts with you. first hug, first kiss, first date. he loved being with you and experiencing what it’s like to truly be loved and appreciated, he did.. but there was always one first he was seemingly hell bent on avoiding.

almost a year into your relationship, and you guys still hadn’t fucked. never going beyond a quick make out session, you never even saw hongjoong naked. you respected his boundaries, no matter how much you wanted him.

it was a night like any other, he came home after coming home from airport, chunky glasses sitting atop his nose bridge as you watched whatever shitty rom-com you chose. not even 30 minutes into the movie and he was all over you, having placed you in his lap leaving sloppy, rushed kisses on your lips; odd. usually you were the one to initiate it. though, you weren’t complaining. though the way his fists bunched at the oversized tee you were wearing started to worry you at his change in character.

“joong, is everything alright?” you murmur, a soft peck placed on your lips before he answers “yeah, just— fuck. today was really stressful, love. i wanna forget about my responsibilities right now, wanna focus on you.” he pouts. “can you help me forget?”

his words sent a shiver down your spine. was this really happening? you tried to ignore how heated your ears felt. “hongjoong, are you asking—“ “yes. please. i come home and you’re sitting here so damn pretty.. w-we don’t even have to fuck yet.” he says, clearly desperate. you bite your lip before leaving your spot on his lap, falling to the carpeted floor below the sofa, in between his spread thighs.

your eyes widen at the bulge you see in his boxers when you finally take off his pants. you weren’t expecting it to be this big. you slip the remaining fabric off, mouth salivating at the sight before you.

he wasn’t exactly thick, but he made up for it in length. his tip red and angry, dribbling with precum. you look up at him, watching as he purses his lips, glasses slightly crooked and foggy to the point where you could barely make out his eyes. you looked so damn pretty like this, slotted in between his legs.

you wrap your fingers around his length, giving him an experimental stroke, a gorgeous moan leaving his lips. you wanted to hear it again badly. encouraged by his sounds, you start stroking him slowly but surely, thumb running across his tip as a string of whines and profanities leave his lips.

“p-please, y/n.. need my cock in your mouth, you’ll let me, right?” he whimpers out, and you obey, lips slowly wrapping around his cock. with what you can’t fit in your mouth, you continue to stroke, feeling him throb inside of you.

“a-ah.. f-fuck, wait- m’gon—” with little to no warning, strings of his warm cum shoot down your throat, making you pull away for a bit to swallow, catching your breath.

“give me a warning next time, joong.” you say with a breathless chuckle, while hongjoong looks away flustered, grumbling an apology talking about how he didn’t mean to. meanwhile, you could tell he was noticeably less tense than before, leaving a satisfied smile on your face.

a/n: AAAA im sorry i know im supposed to be writing two other full fics but these images appeared on the tl in the dead of night and i couldn’t help myself 😣 i didn’t proofread sorry for mistakes, please leave your thoughts i’d love to hear it since this is my first time writing smut and thank you if you read all of this !!

[trashmouth-richie]

You are eeeeeexcellent at smut 😘😘

🥹🥹 plsss you’re so fucking sweet for saying that! i think ive finally found my style and i love it.

keep reading for a blowjob scene with eddie that i’m really proud of from an already posted fic—

heated: double dosed

He shuddered a breath when your hand cupped him in his boxers, the velvet of his skin soft and warm in your soft grip. He was bigger than you remembered, thick like a stout of beer.

“Christ,” he breathed when you stroked him fully, the pad of your finger running over the vein that ran along his cock. 

You looked at him through your lashes as you lowered yourself to the ground, dragging his jeans and boxers with you, “this what you wanted big boy? Wanted me on my knees for you?”

He hums and holds your chin, brushing his thumb across your lips. 

Licking the tip of his thumb, you hold his heavy cock in your hands, stroking his shaft slow then fast, “you’re so big, Eddie.”

He swallows his next words when your tongue circles his head, collecting the precum with each devilish swipe. You stick out your tongue to show him the pearl in your mouth, and he almost combusts when you swallow it with a hum. 

“Yummy.”

He’s certain he’s going to die right here in your living room, looking at you with your pink tongue swirling around his cock, the way your lips suction around him, fuck, you haven’t even put him fully in your mouth yet and he’s a goddamn mess. 

The teasing is too much but he’ll take whatever you give him, if you were to stop now he’d be completely satisfied, he’d have to pump his cock furiously when he got home to make the ache go away but, he’d do it. 

But you don’t stop, fuck no. You’re just getting started. You like him like this, flushed in his cheeks and waiting patiently for your mouth. His mouth opening as yours does. Waiting, pleading, hoping that you would finally let your wet warmth surround him. 

And then you do. 

He stretched your mouth cheek to cheek, a literal mouthful. And he hums. Is he thanking God? You hide your giggle, deciding to take him further into your throat as you hollow your cheeks and slide him deeper with the help of his canting hips. 

You hum around him and it tickles him, but he’s so drunk on your mouth he’s muttering sentences that don’t even make sense. 

Pumping your hands along his shaft you dribble spit from your throat to the head of his dick, a slimy string connecting you mouth, one that you slurp back up and take him in deeper. His knees are bent and he pulled his shirt under his chin, wanting to see you fully with his cock stuffed in your mouth, your pretty eyes are teary and he can feel you gag around him before he pulls out and you come back for more. 

He’s not sure how long you’ve been at this, and he’s trying to keep his mind averted to anything other than your slippery throat and the cute way your eyes are looking up at him. 

This was better than the way you sucked him off in the bed of Wayne’s truck. You were solely focused on him here. No other distractions, just you and him. 

“Look so fucking pretty, baby,” he moaned, reaching down to hold your cheek, his thumb wipes away some of your smudged make up from your eye, “ do you know that?”

You nod with him in your throat, and he breathes more nonsense as he looks to the ceiling and runs his fingers through his hair, trying not to convulse, but he can’t take it any more, you're working his dick like you’re short on rent. 

“Fuck, sweet girl, fuck,” Eddie whines, scrubbing his hands down his face, his stomach burning to give in to you,  I— shit shit shit, ‘m gonna come.”

He works his hips away from you but you wrap your arms around the back of his knees, holding him with his dick still in your mouth, waiting like a kitten for milk.

He cums hard, biting through his bottom lip to keep himself from yelling out loud. You don’t stop bobbing your throat, swirling your tongue, around his length and puckering your lips around him. 

With his load in your mouth you paint his cock with it, moving it around and around with your excess spit, a hurricane against your tornado tongue, you finally swallow, sucking in your cheeks once more, and cleaning Eddie off in one swoop. His cries fill the room and you finally release him with a pop. 

“Jesus, fuck.” He exhales, sleepy eyed. His reddened swollen cock hanging between you both, “c’mere.” 

He helps you to your feet, and you tuck him back into his boxers gently. He mutters an embarrassed thanks, you’re smiling up at him with a cocky little smirk. Completely ready for him to pull up his jeans, maybe get himself a beer from your fridge, but he doesn’t. 

Eddie holds you to him, his forehead leaning on yours, big hands wrapped around the small of your back. His erratic breath plumed through his nose and his chest was beating fast. You’ve never seen him like this, “Eddie?” 

He doesn’t let go, doesn’t say anything, he just moves back to press the lightest of  kisses to the tip of your nose. “You, “ he finally says, licking his lips and rolling his eyes into the back of his head, finally focusing back on you, he pulls you closer, enough that his eyes are all you can see.

But whatever he was going to say is stuck in his throat, he never finishes what he was going to say. Just pulls you into him and holds you there, his lips on your neck, kissing you softly.

[enemiestolovershoe]

hii!! Do you think you write a kook!reader(but basically a pogue) x jj , where reader and jj are secretly dating but reader wants to meet the rest of the pogues, jj’s not ready so they have a slight argument about that during midsummers and that scene when jj runs away and calls the pogues to go to the bonfire place (don’t remeber what’s its called), he ‘forgets’ to call the reader aswell, making her end up feeling sad and after that finally they talk about their relationship and reader meets the pogues… sorry if this is random.. i just thought about it

Crossed Tides

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: JJ and Kook!Reader argue when she wants to meet his friends.

Words: 1,5k

Warnings: not proofread, rushed

A/N: I know this is rushed but I just can‘t bring myself to write properly about JJ. I‘m fucking grieving about a fictional character. So if this sucks I‘m so fucking sorry :(

The Midsummers gala was in full swing. Guests glided across the lawn in a sea of pristine whites and blues, sipping drinks and laughing beneath strings of fairy lights. But you stood on the edge of it all, nervously twisting the hem of your dress between your fingers, watching the crowd for one familiar face: JJ.

He’d been distant tonight, showing up late and barely saying two words to you. You’d been secretly dating for months, always meeting at the docks or hidden stretches of beach, anywhere away from the sharp gaze of both the Kooks and the Pogues. But tonight, that distance felt different, like there was something he wasn’t telling you.

You spotted him at the bar, leaning back with his arms crossed, his gaze scanning the crowd as he downed a drink. Taking a deep breath, you walked over, determined to get some answers.

“JJ,” you said, softly but firmly as you placed a hand on his arm. He flinched slightly, then turned to look at you, his usual mischievous smile nowhere to be found.

“Oh, hey.” His voice was clipped, and he looked over your shoulder, as if already searching for a way out.

“Can we talk?” you asked, your voice quiet but unwavering. “Really talk?”

He sighed, setting his glass down and rubbing the back of his neck. “About what?”

“About us,” you replied. “I want to meet your friends, JJ. I want to be part of that part of your life. We’ve been sneaking around for months now, and I feel like… I don’t know, like I’m just some secret you’re embarrassed about.”

JJ’s face fell, but his jaw tightened defensively. “It’s not about being embarrassed.”

“Then what’s it about?” You kept your gaze steady, even though your heart was pounding. “I’m tired of pretending I’m okay with just these hidden moments. I want to meet the people who matter to you. I want to know them, and I want them to know me.”

JJ’s eyes darkened, his frustration evident as he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just… complicated, alright?”

“How is it complicated, JJ?” you asked, your voice softening. “I know you. I know that you’re not just some Pogue or some label. I don’t care about any of that Kook-Pogue division. I’m here because I care about you.”

He looked down, his fingers fiddling with his bracelet. “They wouldn’t understand.”

“Why not? Because I’m a Kook?” you pressed, hurt creeping into your tone. “JJ, you know that’s just a label to me. I’m not… I’m not one of them. I’m not my family.”

JJ’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his defenses cracking for just a moment. But then, just as quickly, he pulled back again, a hard edge in his voice. “It’s not about you. It’s about them. They’re my family. They’re the only real family I’ve got, and I don’t want anything messing that up.”

Your chest tightened at his words, a mixture of sadness and frustration bubbling up. “So I’d just… mess things up? That’s what you’re saying?”

He opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, clearly struggling to put his feelings into words. Before he could say anything else, someone brushed past you, nearly spilling a drink on your dress, breaking the tension.

JJ took a step back, running a hand through his hair again. “I… I just need some air, alright?”

Before you could respond, he turned and walked off, disappearing into the crowd.

Hours passed, and the night grew quieter. The gala began to wind down, and you found yourself waiting on the steps, watching each group of guests leave, hoping JJ might come back. You checked your phone repeatedly, but there was no word from him.

You tried not to let it hurt. He was probably with his friends now, probably didn’t even think to call you. But deep down, you knew you couldn’t just keep ignoring this. Something had to change.

Meanwhile, JJ had wandered off, his feet taking him almost automatically to the Boneyard. The familiar glow of the bonfire greeted him, and he felt his shoulders relax a little as he spotted John B., Pope, and Kiara laughing together. Here, with them, he didn’t have to think about labels or boundaries; he was just himself, just JJ.

“Yo, JJ!” John B. called, waving him over. “What are you doing here, man? I thought you were busy with all those rich people tonight.”

JJ forced a grin as he joined them. “Yeah, needed a break from all that. Figured you guys were a little more my style.

Pope raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? That why you’ve been disappearing on us every other night?”

JJ chuckled, trying to play it off. “You know me, man, always got something going on.”

Kiara gave him a knowing look. “Or someone?”

JJ’s grin faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, shrugging it off. “Maybe, maybe not.”

But as the night wore on and the fire began to die down, his mind kept drifting back to you. To the hurt in your eyes when he’d brushed you off, the way you’d tried so hard to be understanding. Guilt twisted in his chest, and he knew he couldn’t keep hiding this forever.

He pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over your name in his contacts, but something held him back. What if they didn’t get it? What if his worlds just couldn’t mix?

He ended up putting his phone away without calling you.

The next morning, you decided you couldn’t wait any longer. You went down to the docks, hoping you’d catch him there. The salty air was cool against your skin as you waited, watching the horizon until you finally saw him approach.

JJ looked surprised to see you, hesitating before stepping closer, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and uncertain.

“Hey,” you replied, studying his face. You could see the shadows under his eyes, the way he looked like he hadn’t slept much. “We need to talk.”

He nodded, glancing down. “I know.”

You took a deep breath. “JJ, I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep being just this… secret. I want more than stolen moments. I want to be part of your life, all of it.”

He swallowed, looking away. “I get it. And… you’re right. You deserve more than that.”

“Then why won’t you let me in?” you asked, voice soft but steady. “What are you so afraid of?”

JJ hesitated, then looked up, his eyes finally meeting yours. “I’m afraid of losing them. They’re everything to me. I don’t want to do anything to mess that up. And… I don’t want to lose you, either.”

You softened, reaching out to take his hand. “JJ, you won’t lose them. And you won’t lose me. You don’t have to choose.”

He held your gaze, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he seemed to weigh his options. After a long moment, he sighed, a small, resigned smile tugging at his lips.

“Alright,” he said finally. “Let’s go meet the Pogues.”

Later that day, you and JJ headed down to the Cut, where John B., Pope, and Kiara were lounging on the HMS Pogue. As JJ led you over, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves, but his hand was warm in yours, steadying you.

John B. noticed you first, his eyebrows shooting up as he looked between you and JJ. “Whoa, JJ, you brought a guest?”

JJ cleared his throat, squeezing your hand. “Uh… everyone, this is (Y/N).”

Kiara raised an eyebrow, smirking. “So, this is the girl you’ve been sneaking off with.”

You blushed, but her smile was genuine, and she waved you over. “Come on, there’s plenty of room.”

Pope grinned, offering you a seat beside him, and John B. patted the edge of the boat. “Welcome to the crew,” he said, shooting you a wink.

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the weight on your heart finally lift as you took your place among the Pogues, hand in hand with JJ. And for the first time, you felt like you truly belonged by his side.

[wystericwoes]

Stress relief-

Even pros need coping mechanisms.

Pro Hero Bakugo x Reader

Warnings: Sex, Cursing, catching feelings but in denial, being used for sex but not really, there will be a part 2

Mostly GN reader but a lot of fem references... especially in the smut part

While mistakes weren’t often, even Bakugo was still human. And when he fucked up, the whole office felt the ripple effect of his fury.

His friend and by happenstance, neighbor Denki, would sometimes stop on by for a visit or for a hero collaboration; and happened to walk in on one of these moments.

“Yo! Katsu-“

He narrowly dodged a stapler flung past his head.

“DAMMIT! SHIT!”

He took in the scene in front of him. Interns and secretary’s hiding out of Dynamights rampage followed by a path of office supply themed destruction.

He rushed up to him to try and calm him down before he accidentally injured someone and got a lawsuit.

“Woah! Dude! What’s going on?”

“THAT SLIPPERY FUCKER GOT AWAY!”

“Uh… who??”

“THAT SLIMY SWAMP RAT LIZARD VILLAIN THATS BEEN RUNNING AROUND!”

Denki managed to slightly grab him by the shoulders and pull him into a private break room to separate him from the innocent bystanders, closing the door and blocking the handle.

“Dude you gotta chill out! You’re gonna hurt someone!”

It had been a long road for Bakugo and his anger issues. He had come a long way since his youth, and Denki had witnessed most of the growth first hand. And he knew how dangerous he could be when he got like this.

He took a deep breath beneath furrowed brows and aggressively plopped into a seat.

Denki sat across from him, sliding him a bottle of water.

“Alright you wanna tell me what happened?”

Bakugo chugged the bottle before slamming it onto the ground.

“This stupid fucking bank robber keeps terrorizing MY NEIGHBORHOOD and he’s been getting away every single time! I feel fucking useless! And all because of his stupid reptile bullshit quirk! How can I can I ever be number one if I can’t take down a SINGLE PETTY CRIMINAL ON MY BLOCK?!”

Denki took a deep sigh.

“Look man, I get it, but you’re taking it out on your agency and they don’t deserve it.”

Bakugo slouched back and crossed his arms, brows furrowed and teeth grit.

“You gotta find some kind of stress relief before you kill someone dude! You have any hobbies?”

“Work is my hobby. And I somehow still keep fucking up at it!”

“Well I mean something outside of work- when I get over stressed from work I always just go fuck around.”

“You’re a sleaze bag.”

“Look I’m just saying, when was the last time you got laid?”

He sat in contemplation for a dull moment… Bakugo was no virgin, but no playboy either. He just never really had the time or interest. He didn’t like people, and most everyone knew him at this point. Too many gold diggers or secret journalists trying to make him into a marketable tabloid.

“See there’s your issue. You gotta go get out there dude!”

He tched.

“I don’t have the time.”

“Katsuki. We both know that’s bullshit.” He grinned

“I’m just not into anyone right now.”

Denki dragged out a long groan. “Ughhhhh! Please don’t tell me you’re still limiting yourself with your stupidly high standards.”

“All I want is someone who’s hot and has a head on their fucking shoulders. If I wanted to fuck a brainless meaningless hole I’d get a sex doll.”

“So you’re seriously trying to tell me that there’s not a single woman you’ve found pretty and had interesting conversation with?”

He went back into thought. And to his frustration, someone did pop up. The cute little tea shop owner he started to become a regular too a few months ago.

It was so secluded and special, and so precious compared to the rest of the shit hole of a part of town that it was in.

He found it completely on accident, following a string of crimes which led him questioning the locals.

When he entered the secret oasis where that bell rung as he stepped foot in pushing the door open, he was almost awestruck. It was no bigger than a single room, but it was so beautifully laid out and decorated. You could tell that whoever owned it really loved it, like it was their pride and joy. Plants strewn across the walls and little vases on each table, you could tell they were all thoughtfully and meticulously taken care of. The water fresh, the leaves healthy. Atop the windows were hanging glass decorations, causing rainbows to speckle across the walls of strewn art and paintings. It looked magical, he could spend all day in here.

“O-oh hello!!” You rushed out a door behind the counter, messily tying your apron.

“I wasn’t expecting customers this early on a Tuesday haha… what can I get for you?”

He was dumbfounded. Between the lighting framing your face and the scenery around him, he felt so at peace.

“I-“

He found himself almost speechless. He felt like he walked into a magic secret garden, walked through a door to a different world. Especially with how ugly the outside was. Guess you could only afford to live in the poor part of town.

“I’ll uh… take a coffee.”

You tied your hair back swiftly as you worked your way to the espresso machine.

“Alrighty!” You began working your way around the station and whipping something up.

He looked around a little more before settling into a chair and watched as you worked behind the counter. It wasn’t until he saw you pouring something into a cup that he realized he never told you specifically what to make.

He almost spoke up until you started strutting over with a cup of something that smelled amazing towards his way.

“I took a lucky guess. Go ahead and try!”

You placed it in front of him and watched intently as he reluctantly smelled the mystery drink, and took a sip.

His eyes slightly widened, and he downed the whole thing in one go, not even caring that it burned.

“Careful that’s still hot-!”

But he was done before you could protest.

“Are you okay?!”

“…I’ll take another.” He embarrassingly wiped his mouth and looked away.

You sighed in relief and then started laughing.

“You scared me! How did you not get hurt?”

“How did you make a drink so damn good without knowing me?”

He sounded almost accusatory.

“Ah..! Well…” you shyly looked away.

“You a stalker or somethin’?”

“What! No!! I just got a good read on you. Do… you want me to share?”

He looked at you blankly, his signal of approval to continue, but his piercing gaze made you nervous.

“Okay see I noticed that when you came in up you looked in a hurry so I decided to make something that wouldn’t take too long… Then when you just said ‘coffee’ I knew you didn’t have anything particular in mind. Which either meant you didn’t know yet or didn’t actually come in here for coffee… so I knew it had to be something simple. But you didn’t seem quite like the type to just like plain black coffee, weirdly enough, I figured you were more complex than that! But I also could tell you wouldn’t want something overly sweet. So I went with a dark chocolate mocha extra half shot of espresso, for a semisweet yet strong mix, and then I added a touch of cinnamon for some subtle spice and extra flavor…’

You nervously fiddled with the hem of your apron. You knew it was unprofessional and risky to make something without someone asking.

“Well fuck me…”

It was just surprise after surprise. He had even forgotten why he had come in here.

“So… you said you want another?”

And thus begun his frequent ship to your small business. He went in at least twice a week, and he always tipped twice whatever he paid. You two had so many conversations and funny stories shared between the two of you. It became a part of his routine, one that was private and special to him. You were so tucked away and secret; it was like he had you all to himself. No one else worked there, and he hardly saw any other customers. And even when he did, you always gave him special treatment. You’d chat at his table, let him try new pastries, sit and listen to him talk about his day for much longer than you should. Yet somehow… he had never considered sleeping with you.

In his own daze remembering you, he forgot his idiot friend was there, smugly grinning with raised brows.

“Sounds like you thought of someone…”

“Shut up! What the hell are you even doing here?! Go back to your own damn building!”

“So I was right!!”

“Fuck off!!!” He threw the finger as Denki walked out laughing triumphantly.

Fucking idiot. What does he know? He didn’t see you like that anyway. It wasn’t like he didn’t think you weren’t attractive… he just didn’t think you deserved to be nothing but a one night stand. But also… he did have a point.

He took a deep frustrated sigh as he rubbed the crease of his brows.

“…fuck it.”

You were counting the cash in your register as that familiar sound of the bell dung.

“Sorry we’re cl- oh!”

You looked up to see it was just Dynamight.

“It’s just you! Haha… sorry, I close early because of the crime recently. Come on in! Just your usual?”

“I’m not here to order anything.”

“Oh… is everything okay?”

“It’s fine.”

He seemed colder than usual; and it made you nervous. An awkward silence followed by prolonged eye contact, until he slowly walked up to the counter where you were counting, causing you to freeze.

“Do you wanna go out sometime?”

“F-fuck!!” The pro hero was buried between your thighs on his king sized bed, gripping your hips like his life depended on it.

You bit your hand as the other tried not to grab to harshly in his hair.

“Hah… hah…. I- Bakugo…mmngh!”

You squeezed your thighs around him after your second orgasm of the night, pitifully moaning and whimpering as he lapped everything you had to give up.

He came up and pulled your hand from your mouth.

“Why do you keep trying to stay quiet? It’s just the two of us.”

“I’m just… hah… embarrassed..”

You didn’t know how to feel having sex with one of your regulars after one date.. how were you going to go to work and look him in the eyes after this?? Have you no decorum?

“I’m just.. worried that you’ll stop coming to my shop after this…”

He gave you a perplexed look.

“The hell you talkin’ about?”

“W-well now that we’ve…”

“You think I was just trying to fuck you or somethin?? Like I’m some kind of fuck boy?”

He looked angry.

“No! I just… it seems kinda hard to stay professional with a customer after doing this.”

“You’re a fucking idiot if you think I’m gonna stop coming to your shop just cause we slept together once.”

He crawled upwards to you and held your face.

“I just worry-“

He pulled you in for a kiss to shut you up. It was messy but coordinated, you heard a grunt in the back of his throat as his hardened cock pressed against between your legs.

“You worry to much, you’re stressing me out. Just relax.”

You moaned as he pulled away and nodded. Totally at his mercy.

“Are you ready?” He slid his boxers down.

“Fuck yes.”

He smirked,

“That’s the first I’ve heard you curse.”

Before you could protest he kissed you again. It was sloppy, and full of yearning. He rubbed his cock between your folds, letting the tip rest at your entrance for a brief moment as he pulled his face back and grabbed your hips.

You couldn’t bite back your moans as he slid himself into you. A perfect fucking fit, the stretch burned in such a good way, and hearing his pants as his rested inside you for a brief moment, just basking in the moment.

He moved one hand back to your though and pushed it back, letting himself get a good look of himself fully inside you.

He cursed under his breath. you reached down to rub your clit but he grabbed your wrist and placed it above your head, moving his other hand to do it for you.

“You think I can’t do this?”

He started slowly rubbing circles into you with the rythym of careful thrusts. Each one was experimental, testing the waters of what you could handle.

You two were so in sync it drove you crazy. You subtly thrusted your hips into him, feeling his pubes tickle you each time he bottomed out. He was darker blonde down there, following a gorgeous happy trail that made you drool.

He released his grip from your wrist and held onto your hips so he could steadily increase his pace.

“F-fuck… Bakugo….!”

“Call me fucking… hng… Katsuki.”

You fluttered around him when he said that, making him bite his lip.

“Don’t… fucking do that…”

“Sorry Katsuki..”

Oh you knew what you were doing. And it was taking him all his willpower to not fuck you as hard as he could right now.

He put his hand over your mouth which made you whimper, he decided to fuck you hard but slow, and each time he thrusted you moaned.

You bit his hand, he hissed in pain and watched as you moved it down to your throat.

“Didn’t take you for, a brat.”

“Mm… didn’t take you… as a- sadist-! Ah!” He started going faster with his pace.

“So you wanted this then huh? Acting all fucking innocent..”

He started squeezing on the sides causing you to go lightheaded in the best way.

“For so… hah!! Long! Mng… I’m still surprised you chose me..!”

“Don’t talk like a fucking- idiot- hnn.. youre fucking sexy”

“Mmn! You’re so fucking.. hot.. Katsu…”

He growled at the nickname, whether it was intentional or not.

“Don’t hold back… I can… I can take it.”

You moaned into his ear, knowing he wasn’t going all out yet.

Cursing under his breath he switched both his hands underneath your thighs and put your legs over his shoulders, and he did what you asked. He didn’t hold back.

You couldn’t even think straight. You couldn’t form a coherent thought, it was nothing except him fucking you ruthlessly. His tip kissed your cervix causing a good pain, reaching the deepest parts of you.

“Ah! Ah! Ah! F-fuck!”

Your moans were endless. Blending in seamlessly with his grunts and pants. He wasn’t very vocal, but you enjoyed his sounds nonetheless.

The sounds were filithy, you could feel your wetness leaking out onto his sheets and every noise between the two of you. Nothing else existed outside this moment.

You were in a pleasurable trance that was suddenly cut off as he flipped you over onto your stomach; pinning your wrists behind your back as he fucked you even harder from behind.

The sight of your ass smacking against him and your hands pinned against your back drove him fucking wild. He reached his head down and started biting on your shoulders to hold himself back, your whimper from the pain only made it worse though.

“Mm! Ah! Ah! K-katsu..ki!!”

He growled in frustration, feeling an odd sense of possessiveness every time you said his name.

“M’ gonna mark you up, and fuck you so good you’ll never forget it…”

He started leaving a crude trail of hickeys and bite marks across your shoulders and neck.

“Mmn! Kat- Katsuki…l-let me…-!”

You started to roll over, wanting to see his face, he caught on and picked you up turning you around without leaving inside you, placing you on his lap as he sat upright against the headboard.

“Think you can fuckin ride me baby?”

You whimpered at the name, placing your hands on his shoulders as you started to move up and down. Your pace was no where near as controlled and fast as Katsukis, but neither of you were complaining.

You started to get faster and faster as you felt his dick press up against your sweet spot, desperately chasing that sensation. He could see what you were trying to do as he started or fuck himself up into you, getting a hold of your hips and taking charge.

“Couldn’t take it huh?”

“Sh-shut up… you didn’t give me a chance!”

“I saw how needy you were getting. Just let me take control yeah?”

You dropped your face into his neck, biting the nape to suppress your moans as he started fucking you faster.

You stayed like that for a moment before you started to get close and moved your fingers to rub against your clit, once again he shoved your hand away and took it over.

“What did I hah.. say… before?”

You only moaned in response, gripping one hand onto the nape of his neck and the other onto his chest like you were scared of falling.

He wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled you in closer, rubbing frantic yet gentle circles on your clit while repeatedly hitting your g-spot.

“K-katsu…ki! I can’t.. I-I’m gonna…!”

He fucked you as fast as he could so he would cum at the same time as you.

“Do it…”

He groaned one last time in your ear and it sent you over the edge, he fucked you through your orgasm until your body was shaking, and then he bottomed out one last time.

“F-fuck…!” He moaned out as you felt his dick twitch as he finished inside you.

Both of you sat there still, the adrenaline winding down as you both breathed heavily, basking in the afterglow and silence for a moment before you pulled him closer into an intimate hug.

The silence was comfortable, and part of you both wish you never had to leave.

“Mm.. could go t’ sleep like this..”

“Could you now?”

“Mhm.” Your body fell limp into his.

“We should probably use the bathroom first.”

“Mm. Probably.”

“Mm… Yes. Cmon”

You groaned as he pulled out slowly, all the slick between the two of you pooling into a sinfully delicious mix under you.

You squealed as he lifted you up and carried you to the bathroom bridal style.

“H-hey!”

“Im not letting you get a UTI. Go piss and then we’ll hop in the shower. I hate sleeping in sweat.”

“Ugh you’re no fun.”

You reluctantly left his arms to go use the toilet, knowing he was right.

You rested asleep on his chest, as he gazed at the ceiling, listening to the lull of cars outside the window and the sound of your rhythmic breathing. He had one arm lazily strewn over your back, and the other under his head.

He looked down at your sleeping form, and felt something unfamiliar within him… something sentimental, caring, protective.

He slowly and carefully rolled down the sheet to reveal the marks he left on your body and smirked. Closing his eyes and drifting off.

[satorusugurugurl]

BACKYARD MOVIE NIGHT CHOSO PLS OMLLL

thank you so much. i love you.

Backyard Movie Night!

Summary: Marie’s Summer Fest prompt: Movie Night

Pairing: Kamo Choso x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: public play, handjob, exhibitionism, dirty talk, c*m eating, whimpering Choso

Word Count: 916

A/N: aweee Nonnie I love you too!! 💚💚💚 Could you imagine the pretty sounds Choso would make!? Goodness! Thanks for the request, Nonnie!

Phony B-grade screams and graphics play across the projection screen in the backyard. Yuuji and Choso had set up in the backyard for a movie night; the brothers had invited all their friends. Everyone had shown up! But no one was around at the current moment. Yuuji had stepped out with his friends to pick up the pizza with his friends while you and Choso’s friends were inside, grabbing more snacks and drinks and chatting with each other, leaving you and your sweet boyfriend alone in the backyard.

You didn't mind being alone—you two gladly welcomed it! Without your friends' prying eyes or teasing, you could happily lean against each other under the blankets you laid out hours beforehand.

If anyone were to look outside at you, they would find you both cuddling under the string lights, eyes focused on Human Earthworm Five; almost everyone in your friend group had seen this movie except you. Even though you told Yuuji you didn't need to see the last one to see the newest film, he insisted that you should watch it. The second he got back, he would start the next one.

No one wanted to sit through two movies from the franchise. So they left you and Choso alone, innocently watching the movie under the blankets. An innocent-looking scene. No one in their right mind would have guessed that your hand was wrapped around Choco‘s cock, stroking up and down while he tried to rub circles around your clit. Which was a tricky thing to do when you were making him feel so fucking good. Yeah, nothing debaucherous is going on outside!

“Honey,” Choso whispered through gritted teeth as his fingers twitched against your drenched folds. “I Haaah, nnngh fuck—”

Each time he tried to speak, you twisted your wrist with each expert stroke, your thumb brushing over his fernum. Each teasing touch pulled out more whines from the boyfriend’s mouth. His head lolled back as he struggled to keep up with you, to make you feel just as good. But at this point, you didn’t care if you got off. Watching Choso slowly lose the grip he had on himself was more than enough to tide you over until movie night was over.

The string of lights above you illuminated the sheen of sweat on Choso’s skin as he dropped his head forward, watching your hand furiously jerk him off from under the blankets. Your sweet, doting boyfriend can’t hear anything other than his heavy breathing and the wet sound of your hand moving over him and making him even harder as his dark eyes leave the jerking motions under the blanket to focus on you instead. Watching the way you bite down on your bottom lip solely focused on jerking him off, making him feel nothing but pure pleasure, and dear God, he feels so fucking good.

“Oooh fuck, fuuuuck, yes, honey.”

“Shh, sweetie, you don’t want anyone catching us, do you?” You question, squeezing his thick throbbing length.

“No.”

You learned in next to his neck, kissing his neck as he whimpers. “Then just relax like a honey. I’m going to take good care of you.” Your boyfriend shudders as your thumb runs over the slit smearing pre-cum all over his sensitive head. “I can feel you throbbing; you can cum for me, cum all over my hand.”

Just as the sliding glass door opens, laughter from your friend group floods the quiet backyard, and Choso clamps his hand over his mouth. They picked the absolute worst time to come outside as his orgasm hits him. He was whining into his palm as he cums, spurting out a hot, sticky seed that coats your fingers. You lick your lips as Choso’s shoulder shakes, body curling in on itself as he tries thrusting into your stroking hand.

He was so desperate when he would cum, it was so cute. Your friends look over as you rub your free hand up and down. To their unknowing glances, you were comforting him over a particularly gory scene on the projection screen.

“Oh fuck, that’s so gross.” Satoru gags out as he sits near you and Choso while Suguru joins his side.

“Yeah, I heard Itadori saying the next one is even worse. Are you going to be okay, Choso?”

“Mhmm.” Choso hummed into his hand, not trusting his voice.

When everyone continues their conversations as the pizza arrives, no one looks at you except for Choso. They didn't watch as you pulled your hand out of Choso’s boxers from underneath the blankets. Ever so slowly, he watches with burning red cheeks as you lick the cum off your hand before running your tongue over your lips, making sure not a drop is wasted.

He flushes a deeper shade of red once you place your hand, which was completely clean, on his thigh, and you so casually join in Gojo and Geto’s conversation like nothing sexual had just happened. Everything about the last thirty minutes had Choso's brain short-circuiting! The horror movie he could handle, but you were another story.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

Summer Fest Tag List:

@typicalife-101

[anchoeritic]

「 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐬. 」

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jake sully x na’vi/fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nsfw(18+), minors dni. clit play, handjob, vaginal sex, really soft and passionate jake.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you find yourself falling in love with a dream walker: mating with him under the tree of voices.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is my first jake sully fic. the scenes are a bit tweaked just to make this a bit shorter but overall, it goes along with the script. i hope you all enjoy! reblogs & feedback are always appreciated, thank you so much

jake sully was never on your to-do list. you would’ve never expected for him to ever even come close to the thing.

he was a dream walker and you were pure na’vi.

you were strictly his mentor, his guidance, ever since eywa had picked him. you taught him the skills of your people: to hunt, bond, and learn.

it wasn’t long until he picked up on your wave. sometimes, you’d think that he’d be better off mentoring you instead.

he was filled with determination, even with, what felt like the world, weighing on him.

“jake,” you whispered quietly, resting a hand onto his shoulder. he tensed up at the warmth of your palm, turning his head to face you.

his grip was still tight on the bow, but his focus stayed completely onto you. “nìk'ong.” your hand slid down his arm, angling the bow right at the target.

hovering beside his head, you let out the breath you were holding right as he let go of the string, piercing it right through the yerik.

whimpering away, jake quickly caught up to its bleeding body, thanking it for its sacrifice as his first kill on pandora.

a hand was softly placed on the creature’s limb before he dug the blade into its heart, letting eywa take hold of its spirit at last.

“oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukan, ulte ngaru seiyi irayo. ngari hu eywa salew tirea, tokx 'ì'awn slu na'viyä hapxì.”

observing him closely, you watched as he slid the knife back into the sheath, letting out a quiet sigh of exhaustion.

“a clean kill,” you spoke, rubbing the yerik’s head, laying it on your lap. “you are ready, jake.”

pulling out the arrow from its heart, you reach for his hand, grazing it ever so slightly. you felt his eyes on you, burning holes into you.

“come, follow me.”

grabbing his hand, you jumped from branch-to-branch, keeping him close. you were on the tips of your toes, you’ve never felt so alive.

you ran across the forest, jake following shortly behind as your footsteps illuminated a pathway for him.

“slow down,” he laughed, trying to match your pace. you ignored his wishes, going even quicker.

“you need to be faster.” you shot back jokingly, turning around to tease him. “come on, we’re close.”

admiration was one of the many things jake sully had felt for you ever since he laid his eyes on you.

the way you’d smile to yourself whenever he made a stupid mistake trying to speak na’vi, the way you’d still manage to protect even as an outsider; a dream walker.

the way you’d scowl at his horrible earthling jokes that nobody ever laughed at, but you were the only one that paid attention to them.

“a bad reaction is still a reaction” as jake would say to you before you rolled your eyes at him.

but it wasn’t just your beauty, it was your wit. your strong beliefs, intentions to spread love outside and within yourself.

playing with the children, introducing him to them and being completely accepted like one of your own. it was like a big family he had earned back again. it felt like home.

you felt like home whenever he was around you, but those feelings could never be let out

or so you thought.

you finally made your way to utral aymokriyä (tree of voices), walking slowly through the bright, shining lights of the tree.

“we call these trees utral aymokriyä: the tree of voices.” you brought a string of leaves to your cheek, closing your eyes.

“the voices of our ancestors.”

the whispering of ancient na’vi voices could be heard as you continued to talk amongst them, acknowledging their presence in attendance.

jake stands closer to you now, brushing the tendrils away from your face to see you clearer.

clearing your throat, you turn yourself back around to avoid anything else to happen between the two of you. “you are omaticaya now. you may make your own bow from the wood of hometree.”

“and you may choose a woman.” your voice going dry, teary at most. your chest felt heavy, your heart nearly dropping to the bottom of your stomach.

“we have many fine women. ninat is the best singer-“

an expression of confusion can only make up jake’s face as he interrupts you before you could finish.

“i don’t want ninat.” he states strongly.

the attention was back onto you, struggling to come up with another reply. “there is beyral, she is a good hunter.” you said with your back faced towards him, refusing to show the sadness in your eyes.

he reached his hand out, intertwining his fingers into yours. “i’ve already chosen.”

“but this woman must also choose me.”

peering from your shoulder, you smile cheekily. squeezing his hand gently and pulling him into you. “what if i told you.”

you looked into his eyes, to his lips, down to your intertwined hands. was this really happening?

“she already has.”

sparks of happiness shot around like fireworks as he pulled you closer to his chest, gently sitting you onto his lap.

jake makes the first move, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. your hands explored his body, feeling up on the structure of his back.

his hands slipped down to the curve of your backside. you returned the favor, only kissing him even deeper.

the eagerness between the kisses shared were merely starved. he’s always loved you and he was longing to show you how much he really did love.

“kissing is very good, but we have something better.” you whispered against his lips, trailing kisses along his jawline.

you slowly pull away from his lips, already missing them. “closer, jake.”

taking the end of your queue, you raise it to him. he follows, doing the same.

you close your eyes, the feeling sending you nearly over the edge already.

the moss beneath your bodies glew, acknowledging the two souls that had finally connected to each other under its tree.

“y/n, kiss me.” jake licked his lips, wanting, needing to feel your lips against his again.

you obeyed his wishes, wrapping your arms around his neck and continuing where you left off.

quiet moans were shared as your tongues explored each other’s mouths, deciding whether or not to take it further.

his hips proved it positively, moving under you begging for some type of release.

“don't be afraid to touch me.” you mumbled, grabbing ahold of his wrist. you placed his fingers closer to your core, brushing against it.

a groan was heard by him, barely escaping. you were wet, he could feel it through the fabric.

the smell of your arousal only making him need you more.

his bulge grew harder beneath you, pressing up on your core as well. a faint moan fell from your lips at the feeling, rocking yourself on him.

“let me feel you.” you slipped your hand lower, wrapping your hands around his member.

he dug his face into your neck, hiding the volume of his pleasurable noises.

jerking him slowly, you swiped your thumb over the tip, collecting his pre-cum. “tell me,” you inched closer to his ear, licking the lobe. “tell me how much you want this, jake.”

kisses were left around the crown of his head, your other hand resting on the back of his neck. “tell me you want this as much as i do.”

his only response to you was barely words, just noises of pure bliss. it was the pure need for you to touch him, to feel you wrapped around him. he wanted to make love to you.

“y/n,” he managed to plead out, “i want this.” looking up at you, resting his arms around your waist.

you lined up his tip at your entrance, sinking down onto him slowly. his lips became a perfect fit with yours as they connected once again, tasting each other.

he sat inside of you perfectly, a perfect match of a puzzle piece. molded together out of love.

“jake.” you threw your head back in ecstasy, crying out for him.

his hands slid down to your hips, helping you ride yourself out on him. “damn,” he murmured, watching your body bounce on top of his.

sweat beading down your forehead. your knees digging into the moss as the rhythm of your pace quickened, his moans growing louder with each stroke.

your thighs started to tremble the faster you went, you could feel his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs. you swore you could touch the end of the universe, reach past the stars.

you could tell his release was nearing; profanities were heard besides your own noises, signaling for you to finish him off.

“tìyìng me ngeyä tìyawn.”

your nails left marks on his back as you felt your release chasing after his shortly.

clenching around him, you slowed down; savoring the moment.

wood sprites circle around their bodies, illuminating the scene.

their release hitting the highest of its peak about to collapse on top of each other. “give it to me.”

riding out the high, your breaths become short in time.

“oeng ulte oe, tì'i'avay krrä.”

[ddejavvu]

ok but my favorite criminal minds specific trope is when the team needs someone to be bait and the unsub’s type is reader, would you pls write hotch just trying so hard not to lose his professionalism when the team realizes reader has to play bait??

There's a knock on your door, and you hope it's Emily. She'd know how to untangle this dress.

"Who is it?"

"Hotch," Comes the reply from behind the door, "Can I come in?"

"Uh-" You stammer, lunging for your tank top and throwing it over your head, "...Yeah!"

Once he gets the O-K from you he turns the knob, peering into the dimly lit locker room that you've been using to change. The outfit you'd been provided is a strappy ensemble, but the strings are intertwined with each other like stray yarn, and you don't know how you're ever going to get into the garment.

"I can't figure this out," You lament, holding the dress sheepishly between two fingers, "I think this is made for wizards or something."

Hotch chuckles, reaching for the dress, "Can I try?"

"Be my guest," You nod, turning to a mirror on the inside of one of the lockers and reaching for a comb, "I'll do my hair in the meantime.

Hotch absentmindedly fumbles with the dress while keeping an eye on your work, "Pigtails?"

"Well," You grimace, tugging one of the ponytails tighter on your scalp so that it sticks up and bounces with any movement of your head, "You know what they say about pigtails."

Hotch's face takes on a similar expression of discontentment, "Right."

While you pin some of your stray hairs in place, Hotch makes a breakthrough. The dress comes untangled, hanging between his fingers like it should have on the hanger.

"Oh my god!" You marvel, "Are you a wizard?"

"I was trying to keep it a secret," He plays along, offering you the garment, "But I guess the cat's out of the bag."

"Thank you," You gush, taking the dress from his hands, "I can't- oh."

The dress warps in your fingers. It hangs limp in your hands; apparently you'd grabbed the wrong strings.

"Uh- like," Hotch reaches for it, pulling a few straps up from where they're sagging, "That."

"Oh. Right." You grab the ones he's holding instead, hyperaware of his fingers brushing your own, "Can- um, is Emily here?"

"No, she's out at the second scene," Hotch hums.

"JJ?"

"Talking to the parents of vic #3."

"Hotch," You hum cautiously, "Could, um- could you help me get this on?"

He's still for a moment, nodding slowly after he processes your words.

"Yeah," He takes the dress back from you, letting you fumble with the zipper, "Here, I'll- I'll close my eyes."

"Thanks," You breathe, watching him lower his hands until the dress is close enough to your waist for you to step into it, "So just-"

"Yeah." He nods, letting his eyes slip shut as you take a deep breath. You take your tank top off first, then your bike shorts, and brace your hands on Aaron's to get your leg high enough to step into the dress. He doesn't open his eyes, but you can tell he wasn't expecting the touch.

"Sorry," You hum, far too close to his face as you shimmy your hips into the fabric. You try finding the sleeves, mindful of the straps, and his breath hits your face when he speaks.

"You don't have to do this." He murmurs, his lips moving mere inches away from your own.

"Hm?"

"This," He jostles the dress slightly, as much as he can with it around your waist, ""If this is too much, you don't have to go undercover. It seems stressful to me."

"It is." You nod, even though he can't see it. The movement shakes your chest slightly too, and with the way Hotch is crouched, your boobs bounce just below his jaw.

You take the time that his eyes are closed to admire his face like you can't when he sees you. There's equal laugh lines and frown lines in his face, and you're glad he doesn't overdo the latter.

You slide the dress the rest of the way up your body, fitting your arms through the sleeves and securing them over your shoulders. Then you hum, 'okay', and his eyes flutter open.

They widen at the dress, a maroon garment that hugs your curves and billows out at the waist. You back away from where you'd been nearly standing on his toes, tentatively turning on your heel, "Could you zip me up?"

"Mhm," He nods once, reaching for the zipper. It puts his hands on your lower back and you barely contain a shiver, something that you'll think about long after tonight.

"There," Hotch hums, securing the clasp at the top of the zipper's track.

"You're sure you want to do this?" He asks, his breath now fanning over your mostly-bare shoulder. This time you do shiver, but you hope he doesn't notice.

"I have to," You nod, "I'll be okay, Hotch."

"Alright," He nods reluctantly, his voice soft and careful, "I'll be across the room the whole time if you need me. Just say the word and I'll be there."

You pride yourself on not collapsing at his words despite your weak knees. You nod, "Thanks." And finally turn to face him with a nervous smile.

"Ready?"

"Ready," You nod, and he steps aside to let you pass him. Despite having let you go first he reaches the door before you do, pulling it open for you and letting you lead the way out.

"Oh," Morgan crows from across the room, "Killer, baby!"

"The pigtails are a nice touch." Reid smiles kindly at you, "Did you know that-"

"Yes Reid," You put a hand up, not intent on hearing nauseating statistics, "I know."

He nods, blinking rapidly at being cut off. But he's quiet, and that's all that matters to you right now.

"Okay, Morgan, you're with me," Hotch commands, "We'll be stationed around the club just in case Y/L/N needs help. And Reid, you stay here with Rossi. JJ will be out soon. Let me know if Garcia has any updates."

"Will do," Reid nods, and Hotch gestures to the exit of the police precinct, letting Morgan fall into step beside you.

"Nervous?" He asks, elbowing you in the arm.

You take a deep breath, nodding, "Yeah, a bit. But it'll help, I'm sure."

"It will." Hotch assures you, heading for the team's SUV and pulling open the passenger door for you. He pointedly avoids looking at the hem of your dress when you climb into the seat as it rides up your thighs, and he even tucks the fabric into the car so that it doesn't get caught in the door.

"Good?" He raises his eyebrows, waiting for your confirmation. When he has it, he shuts the door, striding around the front to the other side.

"I think boss man's more affected than the unsub'll be," Morgan snickers, and you turn to glare at him while Hotch climbs into the front seat.

"Morgan," Hotch eyes him disapprovingly in the rear view mirror, "Whatever you're doing, stop."

"Told you," Morgan smirks at you, hissing at the slap you land to his forearm, "Ow! Hotch, control your work wife."

"You probably deserve it," Hotch drawls, pointedly ignoring the work wife comment, as do you. But everyone notices the slight rosy tinge to his cheeks, and as usual, Morgan doesn't know when to quit. You're happy for the excuse to check your phone, even if the text does make your face flush hot.

Derek: I know he helped you get that dress on, maybe he'll help you take it off tonight ;)

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Hello! If it's alright with you, I'd just like to request a short blurb with Norton, Alva, and Aesop maybe? (my faves are showing 😞 LMAO) with a kiss currency scene, very silly really, like Alva asking to borrow a book and reader's all like 'Oh no mister that comes for a price, since you're my s/o I'll give you a discount' or "give me something you forgot this morning" and stuff,,,, I'm not really good at constructing my words sorry 😭😭

It got thirsty ngl and i changed norton to FG cuz i think doing a 'kiss tax', aesop i think came out the best lol

Rated: Explicit | Warning: fool's gold part

There is a refreshing quality about you, something that makes him proud of his appearance. The older man is no narcissist; it is simply the joy one has when their partner sees them as beautiful as the day they fell in love—Alva knows this feeling well and has experienced it twice: with Herman, his wife, and now you.

You are like a summer breeze from the shoreline, warm but not too much. You cling to his skin and caress him out of his thoughts when necessary. Yet, you are like a storm at times with your chaotic ways, never with malice, you are different. Different times, different mindsets, different clothing; you are both fascinating and confusing while giving hope about a future.

Apostle likes you, Ann is growing to accept you given the cat likes you, and Luca “matches your vibes” (strange wording you said) meaning you both are friends.

There are details about Alva taking note of, mannerisms, wants, and needs; the way you smile at him with your fingers walking up his leg while you flirt with him.

Private life with you is an adventure, makes him feel young again.

Alva finds himself enjoying the attention you give when alone, you respect he is a private person and he respects you like touching him— Not always sexually! You just like holding his hand, laying on him, or playing with his hair. When you want to be intimate, you make a game of it. It is your way of hinting to him your needs while giving him a chance to either encourage or inform you he cannot give at the moment.

His master encourages the idea of a family with you in Alva's dreams.

Today, you are as mischievous as a cat toying with the strings of a shoe, seeking attention though pretending to be innocent and clueless; while trying not to giggle. A nervous tick of yours is cute, a great way to know when he is going except your playfulness to turn into something more. Alva's hand plays with the ends of your hair as you reach (and he leads down) to kiss him.

First kiss price. A kissing toll for you helping him around his room. You like performing acts of service, it is your love language with him along with calling him handsome and other things.

Second kiss price. You kissed his hand starting from the tips of his fingers to his wrists. You often tell him you like his hands.

Third kiss price. Alva is gripping the edge of his desk as he sits on the edge of it, his free hand gripping your hair as your lips are around his cock. Usually, Alva is not one for you giving him— He much prefers to have his mouth on you, a simple preference and one you do not complain about given he is really good with his mouth. It is a treat to be doing this and Alva is the type to tell you if he wants something or not.

When he pulls your head back, his cum spilling on your chin and chest, you look up to see his blushing cheeks and his mouth slightly open from heavy breathing.

If you have photographic memory you are keeping this in your mental album of Mr. Lorenz looking so fucking hot.

“Let me lick it off at least.” Alva understands why you want to but he knows that your hormones are speaking because the taste of cum is not your favorite thing— You like him though, a lot. “Thanks for the pearl necklace.” Being flirty. “Alva!” Whining as he starts cleaning you up your face.

You never play the game of price paid with a kiss with Norton. Never felt right given what you know the Prospector has done in his past; as he fought to survive, doing anything for a coin. You will kiss him freely, assure him that what he wants can be asked for without a cost.

Fool’s Gold is different, very different.

The living embodiment of Greed, the way it twists and corrupts, he lacks the morals or humanity his survivor self does. He likes to make you gamble between your life and others’ lives, and being the good person you are… You choose the one for the many.

“A kiss is your price.”

You frown then sigh as you go to open his worn worker's pants given he has said that and he did not mean his lips.

“Oh, no, no, not this time, my diamond.”

You are confused as leans down to actually kiss you, his lips in an oddly sweet way. It throws you off, having you step back immediately though not too far as his deformed hand keeps you from escaping. The vibration of his laugh is felt as his body carries the sound, the way he eyes your confused face, quick to capture your lips once more. This time his tongue slips into your mouth and his other hand is holding your face in place with his gloved solidified hand, the pressure on your jaw making sure you don't close your mouth.

Fool’s Gold, Norton, has most of his human qualities yet key parts of him are not human. His body for sure as he can reshape himself at will (his cock included), and his tongue is not pink but black and longer than a human touch. You are going to choke on it as literally is fucking your mouth with it.

The lack of non-mineral smelling air is making your head spin, your hands on his large wrist as he has his fun with your mouth. He only lets go when the echoing bell announces the first few minutes of the match has passed. You cough as he pulls away to stand at his full height with that sly grin on his face.

“Not bad there, canary.” A fucked up nickname given what miners used those birds for. You wipe the corner of your mouth where some drool slips out, your cheeks burn from unintentional arousal and from lack of air.

“Whatever.” Voice cracked a bit before you cleared it.

That defiance of yours reminds him of himself, those unpleasant ways to get what he needed at any cost. Money was not always exchanged for his way to slip into the cave off working hours. He wants to keep pushing until he breaks you, puts you under the weight that broke and rebuilt him.

“Remember our deal.”

“And what if I said the price went up, hmm?” You look terrified then upset, “Oh, don't get too excited!” Sarcasm as he laughs again, “Don't worry, this bought you a tie.”

You won't push your luck or sanity to try to get him to give a four-man win.

Aesop is not too fond of exchanging bodily fluids, especially when it means ingesting it (cum). Kissing is not bad as he can use his mask; lips on lips took time to be comfortable with and only went as far as pressing his lips on yours. A cute kiss, you like it! Then as the relationship progresses, Aesop grows both comfortable and curious, and you get a kiss you were not expecting from him.

A French kiss (somewhere you think Joseph and Mary are judging the name of this kiss).

The copycat match kiss left you flustered for a week and Joseph had let you fall apart in joy in his room (he did not pay attention). Aesop did not repeat the kiss but there was a cockiness you have never seen him have, a sort of pride to knowing he had you so wrapped around his finger— Of course, he knows you love him but the desire is different and you were going to explode with how hot and bothered you were post-match.

“Kiss.” He taps your lips, “For following my instructions well.” You are swooning and willing to do more work for kisses. Aesop’s lips are soft and taste of mint and vanilla, he likely made his lip wax for this occasion. His fingers, the material of his gloves make you aware of your burning face, eyes taking in the sight of you. You look completely enamored, enchanted by him and his actions, it is like you worship him. He only is the caretaker of the dead, yet like the old Gods of death you told him about, you give him your love with judgment or fear.

“Good work.” This time the kiss lingers and you let out a small moan unintentionally, “Keep going.” The encouragement is followed by you listing all the necessary items needed to embalm during this century. You took a Thanatology class once.

Another kiss and this time it is just like the kiss during copycat, better as his hands hold you by your waist and your arms are around him. You are a mess why the time he stops, grey eyes looking then he takes your lips again. It lasted longer this time, a little more heated as hands slid down your waist to be behind you.

You both are out of breath when the need to breathe becomes unbearable, your hands playing with his hair as his hands are on your ass trying to keep you close to his body.

“Aesop.” You smile at him, “We can stop here.”

“We can,” His forehead against yours, “I want to touch you.”

You felt like you might just explode, “Okay.” Aesop chuckled at how you buried your face in his shoulder when his leg slipped between yours. The slightest pressure makes you very aware of how sensitive you are right now.