#it's my own fault. my car has been warning me for weeks.

[vaeolus]

i hate you """"intelligent"""" key fobs i hate you cars that don't turn on with a key i hate you push to start cars i hate you smart technology i hate you key fobs i hate you key fobs i hate you key fobs

[jobean12-blog]

Make It Last

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob/Mafia AU)

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: When the most powerful man in the city wants you, it's hard to say no. Obviously he's hard to resist but considering his significance in the city you can't help but wonder if you're just another piece of arm candy, so if he wants you, he'll just have to wait.

Author's Note: I've been thinking about Mob!Bucky a lot and what it would be like the first time with him. Lovely Sydney @buck-star had sent me a Mob!Bucky thot last week and he's just so yummy! Hope you enjoy, thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: lots of build up and tension to lots of smutty fun. Bucky is dominant but also soft and gives you everything you want. Oral (f rec), p in v (wrap it up but no need here bc it's Mob!Bucky and he's good and already checked you out haha), light praise and overstim, Bucky can't get enough and you don't want him to.

“It might last longer if he just takes a picture!”

You laugh but you don’t look at your friend even after she makes the joke.

“Why is he even here? Didn’t you tell him you’d be out with the me?” she adds.

At her question you turn to Nat and raise a brow.

“He owns the place. What am I gonna do? Have security remove him for staring too much?”

Nat laughs into her drink but shakes her head. “I guess that won’t work…but it doesn’t bother you at all?”

You give Bucky one more lingering glance then turn your full attention to Nat.

“Under different circumstances it might but it’s sort of my fault that he’s so…worked up.”

“What does that mean?” Nat asks as she leans in closer with a smirk.

You take another sip of your drink. “Well, speaking of pictures…I sent him some while I was getting ready…”

Nat pauses then says, “and? Hasn’t he seen you naked already. You’ve been dating almost a month.”

“We haven’t had sex yet.”

She nearly spits out her drink. “You haven’t fucked that man yet?” She peeks over your shoulder at Bucky, who still has his full attention on you.

“I know,” you sigh. “I can’t believe I’ve lasted this long. But honestly, he’s the most powerful man in the city. He probably has had every woman alive. Why me? I didn’t want to just sleep with him and then…that’s it.”

Nat nods in understanding. “So, you’re making him work for it.”

“Work for it, wait for it…I like him. A lot. And I’m hoping that this shows him I want more than just a good fuck.”

“I bet he’s the best fuck…ever!”

Nat’s words send you into a fit of giggles that dissolve as you feel him approach, the heat at your back followed but a shiver from his whispered words against your ear.

“Enjoying yourself doll face?”

You turn your head, your face so close to his you nearly bump noses.

“I am Bucky, thank you.”

“Good,” he says. “And this is your last drink.”

Your eyes widen at his statement, and you open your mouth to argue but he places a long finger against your lips to silence you.

“I want you completely coherent when I fuck you tonight. I want you to remember everything I do to you.”

With a hard swallow you whisper, “ok,” and your eyes drop to his lips. He kisses you, sweet and soft and way too quickly.

“My car will be outside at eleven.”

He says goodbye to Nat before walking off and disappearing behind one of the doors at the back of the club.

“What was that about?” Nat asks. “You look like you might pass out.”

“I’m going to sleep with him tonight,” you answer, nearly breathless.

Your eyes roam over his body, his black button-up shirt tucked into black pants. The first two buttons of his shirt are left undone, hinting at the expanse of skin beneath and highlighting the long and muscular line of his neck. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his corded forearms and prominent veins shift as he removes the lustrous watch on his wrist.

You stand and wait, watching him as he slowly stalks closer.

“Do you know how hard it’s been? How hard I’ve been…waiting?”

Your eyes drop to his pants and the clear outline of him pressing along the lush fabric. You reach out, your fingertips just brushing against him and his breath comes out in a sharp exhale.

He wraps his fingers around your wrist and drags you into his chest, pressing you against every inch of him. His lips find yours in a hungry kiss, his hands slowly tracing your curves until they cradle your face.

“Are you finally going to let me have you?” he murmurs against your lips.

Your palms flatten along his chest, and you kiss him softly.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“My favorite word,” he breathes before kissing you again.

His hands move to your back, finding the zipper of your dress and toying with the small piece of metal. You whimper with impatience, and you feel his smile against your mouth before he spins you around, so your back is to him.

Goosebumps break out across your skin as he smooths his fingertips over the curve of your shoulder then drops his hand back to the zipper, slowly pulling it down until the fabric pools at your feet.

He hums in approval, kissing the back of your neck and then the space between your shoulder.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing the lace of your undergarments.

He turns you to face him again and then gently guides you toward the bed, pushing until you sit. He kneels, taking your foot in his hand and sliding off your heel. He repeats the action with your other foot and smooths his palm along your calf with a delicate caress.

“So soft,” he sighs then stands, gazing down at you. “So beautiful.”

He starts to unbutton the rest of his shirt, but you stand to stop him, taking the fabric between your fingers and teasingly undoing the buttons until you can push it off his shoulders.

Your fingertips lightly scrape down his chest, lingering over every scar you find before your lips press to the puckered skin.

His eyes close and he whispers your name.

When your fingers reach his pants, trembling slightly, you pull the zipper down. You reveal his boxers and the noticeable bulge beneath the tight material.

You lick your lips and brush your fingers through the soft hair just above the waistband then dip them inside, sliding your hand along every warm, silky inch of him.

He throbs in response, your thumb tracing the tip and smearing the wetness there. You kiss him all over, not taking him into your mouth yet but teasing with your lips.

“Doll,” he warns and unclenches a fist to stop you. “If you keep that up this will be finished before we even start.”

You let out a soft gasp as he helps you stand and pushes you back onto the bed. His hands skim your thighs, pulling your legs up and placing them on either side of his hips. He hovers over you, staring, the curling wisps of his dark hair falling across his forehead.

When he slides his hand between the mattress and your back, you lift yourself, giving him access to unhook your bra. He makes quick work of it but takes his time as he peels it from your body to reveal your breasts.

He stares again, his cheeks flushed and the muscles in his arms and chest straining. You reach for him, pulling him down for a kiss and pressing your bodies together. His lips trail down your neck, to your collarbone, soft nips at your skin before he continues his descent, lips leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

His tongue teases your nipple then sucks it into his mouth making your back arch in pleasure. He pays the same attention to your other breast, teasing, licking, nibbling, and soothing.

You feel his smile against your skin as he pulls away to kiss down your stomach, keeping one hand on your breast.

His name falls from your parted lips when he presses a kiss between your legs, the thin fabric of your panties doing little to dampen the heat of his breath.

He sits back, gazing down at you, fingers teasing the waistband of lace at your hips.

“Do you want my mouth doll?”

You nod, your hips squirming.

“I want to hear the word.”

“Yes!”

A satisfied look crosses his face as he hooks his thumbs into the soft material and pulls it off, purposefully dragging the tips of his fingers down your thighs and calves.

His kiss is a barely there whisper of his lips to your clit, yet it causes your entire body to quiver. He does it again and again until you’re begging for more.

Finally, his tongue flattens, and he tastes you in a long lick from top to bottom. You cry out, bucking and pushing your hips into his face. He closes his lips around your clit and sucks, applying the perfect amount of pressure to make you tremble.

His hands dig deeper into your thighs, the rings adorning his fingers leaving marks in your skin as your calves come to rest on his shoulders, opening you wider for him. His tongue circles your clit before sweeping lower and dipping inside you. Your fingers grasp his hair, another breathless moan leaving your lips.

After bringing you to the edge he pulls back and lets you catch your breath, but it’s short lived as his finger circles your clit before sliding lower to sink inside you.

“More Bucky,” you breathe.

He pulls his finger out and rubs along your entrance with two, teasing you, before only pushing one back inside.

You bring your hand down toward him, needing more, but he quickly intercepts it. He withdraws his fingers and gathers your wrists together with one hand, bringing both arms stretched out above your head.

“Keep them there,” he orders.

You start to nod but then quickly reply with a breathy, “yes.”

He bends down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before sinking his teeth into it. He moves back down your body, his tongue working you over, no longer teasing, but with purpose.

It takes everything in you not to let your hands fall to his hair and when he suddenly pushes two fingers inside you, giving you what you asked for, you moan out in pleasure.

His long fingers reach deep inside you, and combined with his attention to your clit, you can feel your release building.

A warm, tingling sensation spreads through your body and your breathing turns ragged as your muscles tense.

He doesn’t stop, working you through your release and prolonging it until you’re a trembling mess beneath him.

You open your eyes to find him watching you with a heated gaze.

“Fuck doll face. I could watch you come undone for me like that every day for the rest of my life.”

His thumb sweeps over your sensitive and swollen clit and your eyes roll back.

“Again,” he murmurs, dipping between your legs before you can respond.

His lips replace his thumb, his fingers resuming their previous pace as he slides his free hand under your lower back to effortlessly lift you and bring you closer.

Everything feels ten times more sensitive now and you fight with the clashing sensations of pulsating pleasure and the soreness of overstimulation.

You feel your release approaching quickly and your eyes squeeze shut but his commanding voice pulls you from your haze.

“No,” he growls. “Open them. Look at me.”

You obey, opening your eyes again, and the sight of him between your spread thighs sends you over the edge.

“Bucky,” you choke out.

“Gorgeous,” he whispers. “But not nearly enough.”

You struggle to sit up, your eyes falling to his cock resting against his abdominals. He smirks and grips himself, pumping his hand slowly up and down his length.

“Do you need a break doll?”

“No,” you tell him, letting your legs fall open.

He settles between them, his lips kissing your neck and the sensitive spot below your ear. He slides his hand down between your bodies and rubs himself against you teasingly.

“What is it?” he asks, pausing at the slight tensing in your body.

“Nothing Bucky.”

“Tell me doll face,” he demands. “I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“No!” you say quickly. “No. It’s not that. You’re just…bigger than what I’m used to.”

He smirks, rolling his hips slowly, not pressing in yet.

“You can take it doll.”

His hand moves to your face, grasping your jaw, keeping you looking up at him.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

“Yes Bucky.”

His other hand grips your waist, holding you steady, and your breath catches in your throat as he begins to press into you, then came out in a low moan as he unhurriedly sinks in, making you feel every throbbing inch of him.

Your eyes flutter closed, but then his fingers dig into your jaw, a silent reminder to keep your eyes open. Your body stretches to accommodate him, the initial burn giving way to sweet friction as you relax.

He continues to move maddeningly slowly, his gaze never leaving yours, the intimacy of the moment making your pulse pick up in a way that has nothing to do with his languid movements.

He lets out a soft exhale as he finally stills, settled fully inside you. Your inner walls flutter around him as you adjust to his size, and he pulls back slightly, only to push back in with more force, drawing another moan out of you.

“See doll. You take me so well,” he praises. “Do you want more?”

“Yes,” you say, your hands wrapped around his biceps, feeling the power in his muscles as he holds himself over you.

He draws back until only the tip remains inside you and then slips back in slowly. You lift your hips with impatience but his hand pushes on your stomach to pin you back down to the bed.

He leans in to kiss you, softly and with sweet, whispered words. The slow roll of his hips builds tightness in your stomach, and he takes your hand in his, pressing it next to your head, entwining your fingers.

You slide your free hand through his hair, dragging your fingers through the soft strands and then down his neck. He closes his eyes, savoring the sensation, his hold on your hand tightening.

“I could come just from this,” he says huskily, lips dropping down to your ear. “Just from the sight of you completely ruined under me.”

His words make you squeeze around him, and he lets out a low, deep rumbling moan into your neck. You jerk your hips up toward him, your legs trying to draw him closer and deeper.

He lets go, pumping his hips faster, fingers digging into your thigh possessively as your body jolts with the force of it.

With a precise and purposeful rhythm, he keeps a relentless pace until your body explodes with every sensation and all you can do is hold onto him and listen to the rough sound that comes deep from his throat.

He pants against your neck, then trails soft kisses along your jaw to your lips, his kiss slow and deep, making you breathless all over again. Your heart beats frantically between you, his own a rapid thump, thump, thump, against his sweaty chest.

With gentleness he pulls out and lays down next to you, throwing his arm over your waist and curling you toward him. You quickly get lost in his cocoon of warmth, sighing, and closing your eyes, but he presses two fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze to his.

“I want to clean you up,” he whispers. “And I want you to stay the night with me.”

Your quiet “yes,” makes him smile proudly and he carefully extracts himself, returning quickly with a warm cloth and delicate hands.

He slides up the bed and pulls you to him, closing the distance and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, then the corner of your mouth and finally your lips. His hand cradles your face, his thumb swiping over your lips, applying enough pressure to part them.

Then his hand glides along your throat and his fingers close around the back of your neck to angle your head in a way that allows him a deeper kiss.

When he pulls away his nose gently bumps yours and he opens his eyes, ghosting his lips to yours as he whispers, “so perfect for me doll.”

[queers-gambit]

Perpetual L's and Overwhelming Dubs

prompt: slutty stranger bathroom sex on a train.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 3.7k+

note: are all our safe words pineapple? i need this man to rail me, you know, for science. yep, that's right, Cherry has a new fixation! aren't y'all so lucky?

warnings: author has brain rot, smut (public, strangers, unprotected), obviously cursing, PWP.

Japan was bright, you decided with a soft smile on your lips; looking around the train station glowing in neon lights; some blinking, some colored, all fluorescent. People milled around every inch of the place, all walks of life from school children to professionals with briefcases, talking on the phone, running to make their departure. Couples held hands, families took meals together, and a few meters away, a little girl screamed when her brother stole her Momonga plushie.

You must've been enraptured with all around you that your shoulder bullied into someone else's on the platform, making you gasp an instant apology in Japanese. However, the man you had collided with just offered you a stoic look up and down, letting his lips pull in a half-smirk, checking in English with a thick accent, "My apologies, love. You all right there?"

"Yeah, I-I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you bid with a small smile.

"'S all right, pretty ladies like you can run into me all day," he smirked, eyeing you up and down before following after his snazzy-dressed companion - who slapped his chest forcefully.

"Leave the girl alone, mate," the man reprimanded. "Sorry, miss, he gets it in his head he's God's gift to ladies."

"It's really okay, it was my fault for not watching where I was going," you assured the men, glancing at your watch. "I'm so sorry, but I really can't miss this train. Safe travels, gents!" You bid, offering a simple wave, then scurried off - trying not to double back for the man with a mustache.

God, was that man handsome! Like, illegally handsome. Hauntingly handsome.

You'd even go as far as to say he was devilishly handsome! Those eyes? Beautifully clear blue, alluring, drew you in and held you captive. His cologne? Absolutely heavenly, borderline intoxicating. And he was built like a fucking mountain - tall, broad, slender hips, bulging muscles that looked as if they would rip his button-up.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of the body-heating thoughts about the stranger you had just barreled into. Being horny got you nowhere, but being perpetually horny... Was the biggest fucking L. Sure, you could rub one out; you knew where the clit was and how to stimulate to your own pleasure (unlike most men). But it was something about a man sweating over you, thrusting into you with abandon; creating a mess in your guts, mind, and chest.

Yeah... You needed to get laid, you were fucking drooling over some stranger you had a 23-second interaction with.

However, upon entering your train and locating a seat in the hopefully peaceful quiet car, you mindlessly downloaded Tinder to pursue at your leisure, but only a few swipes in and you were exiting the app and deleting it (again) from your phone. The train was ready to depart the station, you cracking a bottle of water, looking back on your two-week Japanese excursion your job had sent you on.

And now, you were finally heading to your last stretch of meetings, requiring you to purchase an overnight ticket on one of the available bullet trains. Seemed the fastest, simplest, and most affordable way to travel - skipping out on upgrading to first class. Economy was just fine, you decided, perhaps doubting yourself when your eyes widened when you caught sight of the two strangers you ran into on the platform finding their seats a few rows up. There was a third man with them now that was left slumped in a spare chair - probably drunk off his arse, based on the man's grungy, disheveled look.

You tried not to thinking about the handsome stranger, but he was just a few rows up from you! God, you could practically smell his cologne from here, letting your mouth water slightly.

Yeah, perpetually horny was the biggest L - like you said.

Your thighs squeezed together as you crossed them, hoping the pressure was enough to relieve the build-up of warmth in your belly and cunt. Your headphones were placed, your attention diverting out the window, and tried to imagine if nobody else was in this fucking carriage - he could take you here and now.

After a few stops, your empty water bottle sought revenge against your bladder and ushered you to the closest bathroom. It wasn't as tight a squeeze as airplane bathrooms, but it was still a small facility to use. When done, you washed your hands as a knock sounded at the door, calling in Japanese, "Just a second!"

After unlocking the door and opening it, you actually flinched back slightly when the man from early with the '70s pornstache was stood directly in front of you.

"Well, don't you look like hell," you mused slightly.

"All in a day's work, love," he answered, stepping out of your way to let you exit the bathroom. He looked you up and down, asking, "So, uh, where you headed?"

You told him your stop, asking him the same. He told you, your mind doing mental gymnastics to understand that you both had a good bit left on this train... Surely, anything could happen.

"I'll let you, yeah," you half-smiled awkwardly, moving out of his way fully to give him access to the restroom.

"You know..." He trailed, pointing at the empty lavatory, "Could fit two."

You chuckled, "Yes, but I'm finished now - you go on."

He hummed, glancing up and down the train car - spying through the windows of the conjoining connection each car had. When he faced you again, he took a slow, calculating step forward, "That's not exactly what I meant, sweetheart."

You feet took a slow, calculated step back to find the wall, his smirk broadening. "Then how about using your words like a big boy and tell me what you meant?"

"You look like a smart girl, sure you can figure it out, yeah?" He leered over you, either foot standing between yours, nearly pressed into you but far back enough that he could maintain eye contact.

You pouted at him, "I don't read minds."

"Not sure it's me mind yah gotta read," he perked a single brow, glancing out the window again. "Now, I'd love t'stand here and ravish you the way I've wanted since you bumped into me earlier, but maybe exhibition isn't your thing."

"Judging me now?"

Now, both his brows slowly rose. His teeth poked out from between his smirking lips, praising, "Naughty girl."

"Maybe you're the one a bit nervous, hmm?" You quipped, boldly reaching forward to palm his cock - already half-hard. "What's wrong, mister? Don't want people seeing you so, hm, submissive?" You gave a cheeky flex of your hand, his hips bucking involuntarily.

"You fuckin' minx," he chuckled, hands to your waist now. "Get in that fuckin' bathroom or I might just have to give this whole fuckin' train a show."

"Better start charging them all," you whispered, hearing his growl before pushing his chest back to give you a little space. "You do this often, then? Proposition strangers into dirty bathroom sex on public, moving trains? Hmm? In a foreign country? Seems terribly disrespectful, don't it?"

"Sweetheart, the thoughts in my head about what I want to do to this body - those are disrespectful," he smirked. "Wanna tell me I'm not truly tempting you? You would've left by now," he pointed out, making your chest feel warm from the embarrassment you felt suddenly. You smirked and twiddled your fingers at him in parting, turned, and just before you could step away, you felt his arms lock around your waist. "C'mon, darlin', don't be like that," he hissed in your ear, your visible smirk spurring him on. "Not about t'beg yah, princess, get this pretty li'l arse in this stall."

You folded.

Being perpetually horny was an L, sure, but being propositioned by a handsome, hulking, muscly stranger was for sure a Dub, right?

You turned in his arms, lips only centimeters apart; breathing the same air, hand on his chest to ease him back into the bathroom stall. He grinned in triumph, and the moment you were over the threshold, still maintaining eye contact, he reached around you to click the lock in place.

"C'mere," he growled, surging forward to bring his lips down to yours finally - and just like that, your panties were done for. You moaned instantly, feeling something akin to relief when his lips molded against yours; all but immediately sweeping his tongue against the seam of your mouth.

Letting him in was mind boggling; literally making static fill your brain as your hand lifted to hold the back of his neck, threading into the hair at the nape of his neck. His mustache was stiff, wriggling in an irritating fashion against your upper lip and nose, but you didn't notice - too engulfed in the way he domineered every rational thought. His hands both pressed tightly to your ribs, then waist, down your hips, around to your arse - like he couldn't make up his mind where he wanted to touch you. So, he chose to touch you everywhere.

He was intoxicating; feeling drunk on his taste, smell, touch. He was warm, his curls a bit greasy but still shocking soft, and his lips - plush, welcoming, anchoring. You didn't even know his name, but you didn't need to! All you needed was exactly what he was doing: holding complete control over your heart, mind, and cunt.

Your stranger pulled back suddenly, offering a skeptical look, "There's no boyfriend, fiancé, husband I'm gonna have to look over my shoulder for, right?"

"Not since about 6 months ago, no. Do I need to ask you the same?"

"'Course not," he mused with a grin, kissing you again - but just a degree softer. Now, both his hands rose to caress either cheek; his tongue wagging against yours in more controlled caresses. One hand dropped slowly to hold your neck, pulse quickening, and your stranger smirked, muttering against your lips, "Cheeky girl."

You pushed him back half a step, offering him a once over before confidently reaching down for the end of your shirt and pulling it off over your head. Your companions mouth fell open when you revealed yourself to him, smirking as you opened your jeans to show a hint of the lace panties you wore. You told him your name, earning a confused hum. "My name," you explained, "figured you need to know what to moan." His tongue swept over his lips. "Gonna just stand there?"

He chuckled, checking his watch, then started unbuttoning his waistcoat. "Tangerine," he spoke simply.

"That your safe word?" You asked, shucking your jean clean off after toeing out of your shoes. "Hm, mine's pineapple."

"'S my name, love," he chuckled, opening his button up to reveal exactly what you thought - plains of smooth skin over rigid, bulging muscles. "So you know what to scream," he smirked.

You paused, stood in your panties, bra, and socks, asking through a small chuckle, "You're telling me, your mother carried you all those months in her belly, pushed you screaming - bloodied - into the world, looked at yah, and said, 'yeah, he looks like his name should be Tangerine'?"

He peeled his top half naked, your throat swelling close; swallowing harshly to clear your mouth of the overflow of salvia. Slowly, he moved closer to you, once again leering over you. He reached out for your neck, not too tight or aggressive, but forceful enough to tilt your head back. "'S a codename, love," he explained.

"Ah, so can't reveal the government."

"Exactly."

"The fuck kinda job you got that requires codenames?"

"The dangerous kind," he smirked, "wanna keep running your mouth or put it to other use?"

You chuckled and reached for his trousers, holding his eyes with yours as you easily unfastened him and hooked your thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and suit pants. His mouth parted slightly when the cooler air hit his exposed cock, asking, "Safe word?"

He snickered, "Pineapple's fine, love," he sounded far too amused, watching you get on your knees in front of him, "but I doubt we'll need - Oh, holy, fuckin' good God," he seethed through clenched teeth when you eagerly took him in your mouth.

He was bigger than what you were used to - like a full double the size your previous partners had been. He was longer, thicker, and Goddamn, was he sweltering in your mouth. You wondered how long it had been for him, feeling your panties dampen as you felt exhilarated to show this man with a "dangerous job" exactly what your mouth could do - and why he'd never forget your name.

"Oh, there's a good fuckin' girl," he groaned, collecting whatever hair he could in a makeshift ponytail; looking down his nose to watch you. His cock was overwhelming, but you were determined to earn the pleasure he would surely bring; mouthing around his cockhead, using one hand to pump what didn't fit, the other alternating between holding his hairy thigh for balance and cradling his balls.

A few times, you held his eyes with yours as you removed his cock with a pop; licking his shaft up and down like it was a popsicle on the Fourth of July. His jaw would clench each time, sputtering his breath. His veins were pulsing, prominent under the skin; making your cunt contract as his throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly, groaning.

"Li'l too good at this, baby, Goddamn," he breathed, chuckling to himself as he retracted his hips while holding your jaw. "All right, all right," he chuckled, "made your point, love. Get up here 'fore I lose my bloody mind."

You pouted, "I quiet like it down here."

"Darlin', I'm about to bust - "

"Isn't that the point?"

He chuckled and reached down to help you up, instantly searing you in a wet, messy kiss as he backed you into the sink counter; tasting himself on your tongue. It was erotic, something you were vastly not used to - no man ever being okay with you kissing them after having their dicks in your mouth.

But no, this Tangerine fellow was obviously built different.

One hand anchored your waist, the other dropping to toy with your panties gently; petting the waistband before sinking his hand lower. You shuddered lightly when his finger swept through your wet folds, both groaning in pleasure when he sunk knuckle-deep. "Feels so good, love," he praised, your legs widening your stance to let him better access; hand fully disappeared into your panties. "So fuckin' warm, yeah," he breathed, increasing his speed so he pumped aggressively. He didn't need a second finger, he was chasing your orgasm - purely focused on the way you withered before him.

"Tan," you whimpered, gripping his assaulting arm as he found your g-spot and chuckled darkly.

"Got it, there, did I? Yeah, let's see what you've got, love, c'mon."

You whined in your throat, leaning into his chest as your legs began to quake. You didn't get a chance to warn him, feeling that overwhelming urge to urinate - gasping loudly and needing him to support your body as his finger jabbed your g-spot to the point you were gushing into his hand.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he encouraged, stimulating you further; loving the feeling of your squirt in his cupped hand, "keep goin', good girl, that's it, yeah? I got yah, good girl, there you go."

You grunted when he slowed his hand to the point the heel of his palm ground into your clit. Feeling overstimulated, your hand slapped to his meaty forearm, meeting his eyes with a glare, begging, "Okay, okay, okay, you made your fuckin' point."

He grinned, "Didn't know I had that affect on you, love. Huh?"

"You could've offered to fuck me when I ran into you earlier and I would've bent over - right there and then," you whispered against his lips, licking into his mouth right after; making his own mind go blank.

"Feelin's mutual, doll," he nodded, using both hands to shred your lace panties from your hips with a shrill gasp. "Keepsake," he teased, showing you the ruined fabric before dropping it.

You offered him a coy look before turning around for him, not needing the instruction; meeting his stare in the mirror. Bracing yourself against the sink, you slumped over it, making him groan.

"Fuck, doll," he whispered, admiring the view and smoothing a hand over one bare cheek. "Just look at yah, ready fa' me, just drippin'," he bit his lip, giving a few pumps to his length as he looked you over; other hand toying with your weeping hole. He growled and slid his cockhead up and down your slit, both shuddering lightly; moaning in union when he notched himself at your entrance. His eyes met yours in the mirror, his mouth parted, slowly sinking forward to the fucking hilt - making you feel impossibly full.

"Oh, Jesus fuck!"

He chuckled, shifting his hips, "Keep it down, love, don't need anyone bangin' on the door, interrupting us, huh?"

"I'll be quiet when you get a smaller dick."

This made Tangerine genuinely snicker, "Fair enough."

"Fuck's sake!" You yelped when he suddenly pulled back, surged in, and started his own rhythm. Through the mirror, you saw the concentrated, cocky expression he wore; looking purely focused, mesmerized by the way his cock would disappear within you, only to reappeared - soaking wet, glistening.

"Feel's divine," he hissed, the grip on your hips sure to leave bruises. "God, this pussy's made fa me - grippin' s'fuckin' tight. Who was the idiot who let this go, huh?"

"Really wanna talk about my ex now?" You panted.

"Nah, don't need to - 's mine now," he grit, one hand letting go of your hips to bring down on the meat of your bottom. "Hear me? Huh? Fuckin' mine now," he pommeled your arse a couple more times. "Like that, huh? Don't you? Feel you fuckin' squeezin' me each time."

"Yes," you moaned. "Fuck, yes, yes, God, you feel fucking amazing."

"Keep talkin'," another slap that made you squeak.

You were nervous 'cause you never considered yourself the best at dirty talk, but still tried, "So fuckin' good, makin' me so wet. Fuck - never had cock like this, so good - so deep, so big. Don't stop," you whimpered, his feet repositioning to allow himself a new angle and speed to drill into you. "Fuck, yes," you moaned loudly, encouraging, "harder, please, yes, yes, yes! Just like that!"

The motions cause ripples across the flesh of your bottom, thighs quaking. You pushed your hand down your front, your partner groaning at the sight as you found your clit and started massaging; the contractions squeezing Tangerine's cock tightly. His one hand traveled around the front of you, sliding up to yank your bra from your breasts; palming one with fever before tweaking your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

"Fuuuuck, Tan," you whined, moaning. "Don't stop, please, 's too fuckin' good!"

"I've got yah, darlin', almost there," he grunted, folded a little more over your back so he could fondle you roughly. "Naughty fuckin' girl, lettin' me bend yah over like this - don't even know me. Just knew you needed my cock, huh, love? Ain't that right?"

"Yes," you moaned, orgasm fast approaching.

"Probably let me do whatever I wanted t'you, huh?"

"Fuck yes, whatever you wanted, however you wanted me!"

"At's a good girl," he grit. "Takin' me so well, so fucking good. Need this pussy again, hear me? Fuck," he panted, increasing his speed to an erratic pace, "need a taste, need yah t'squirt on me again. Need this pussy in all positions." He bared his teeth, increasing his speed, hissing, "Lemme hear you scream, love. Wanna hear my name. from that pretty fuckin' mouth, c'mon."

"T-Tan, fuck, Tangerine, I-I'm right there, I'm so close - OH FUCK!" Your orgasm made you reel back into his chest, milking yourself on his impaling cock. You gasped, mouth left wide as his hand constricted around your throat, his mouth hot against your ear; biting and licking as he grunted forcefully.

He gasped in your ear, moaning your name on a short repeat, shuddering as he stilled himself; coating your wet interior with his thick ropes of hot, heavy cum. Your eyes were closed, head tilted back to his shoulder; his lips actually soft as he planted several kisses along your neck (that he released) and shoulder. "Holy fuck, doll," he whispered, chuckling in disbelief. "'S a li'l too good."

You smirked, "Yeah, I've heard that before, you're not the first t'tell me."

"Ah, way t'ruin it, doll," he joked, making you chuckle breathlessly. "All right?"

"Mhm," you sighed, eyes opening. "You?"

"Never better," he mused softly, sighing as you both tried to regain your breath. He let out a single grunt as he held your hips, pulling his cock free; releasing a gush of cum from you both to drip from your cunt. As you both redressed, he eyed you for a moment, then mentioned, "Listen, love, uh... Don't miss your stop."

"I wasn't planning on it?"

"Good... Just..." He sighed, closing up his shirt. "Make sure you get off this train."

You stared at him for a moment, pondering, "This have something t'do with that 'dangerous job' of yours?"

"A bit."

You hummed, zipping your jeans back up sans panties. "Why don't you get off, too?" You asked softly.

"Can't, darlin', got a job t'finish."

You nodded, "Then be careful, yeah?"

He nodded in return, reaching out to pull you in close. He took a second to look you over, smirking slightly, "Worried about me, are yah?"

"I don't even know you."

"We'll change that," he eased. "Your phone?" You offered a small look before sighing, reaching for your phone, unlocking it, and offering it to him. He typed for a moment, a distant buzz heard from his own phone, then handed it back to you. "I'll call you up sometime, love," he smirked, watching you reach back to unlock the door.

"You better," you mused, letting him press one more searing kiss to your lips. You hummed, pouting slightly and telling him, "Behave, or we'll go at round two."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, darlin'," he pocketed your shredded panties with a cheeky grin.

"You still owe me for those," you pointed.

"Send a bill, I'll make it up t'yah."

You smirked, "No bill, but I'd take dinner."

To your honest shock, a sort of... Contemplating, soft expression took over his face, nodding, promising quietly, "I'll call yah, darlin'. Just make sure you answer."

[ part two: Shower Shenanigans ]

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[vanillakook]

DOPAMINE (PT. 2) ꔫ - JJK

synopsis: jungkook has a question for mingyu’s sister

paring: brothersbestfriend!jk x fem!reader

info & warnings: explicit language, angst, risky rendezvous, forced proximity, tones of corruption, established crush, sexual tension and slow burn, oral sex (m. receiving), face fucking, hair pulling, manhandling, dom!jk, pretty short but it’s preparing to transition into a much longer pt 3 🙈

a/n : part 2/3! comment to be added to the taglist for this series! first part here: <3

“do you think i’m stupid?”

jungkook’s irritated voice rang through you. you had officially pissed him off, and for the last time at that. annual vacations with your family to jeju were usually jungkook’s favorite. your parents owned a cozy little house by the beach that you went to a few times a year. he had the privilege of getting away from school and work for a week. just a full week of kicking back by the ocean with some beers and seeing his favorite girl in a way too revealing bikini that mingyu planed on burning when you were back at the house. even jihyo tagged along, this being her first vacation with the kim family, to which your parents were ecstatic, and oh– and he’s here. jaehyun.

jungkook knew he didn’t hate anyone... but it was all too easy for him to hate jaehyun, all because of your maniacal actions on this getaway. having jaehyun win stuffed animals for you, sharing boardwalk treats with him, and clinging by his side had been enough for poor jungkook, who really enjoyed annual vacations to jeju. things escalated from a simple boardwalk treat to rubbing sunscreen down your back, and drying you off with his towel after dunking yourself in the ocean. he was no longer enjoying his annual vacation to jeju.

the worst part about it all? it was his fault. he knew you’d never touch jaehyun, not even with a ten foot pole. yet after the moment you and jungkook shared in his car, you might as well. after he dropped you off at home something changed. jungkook was around less and when you needed a favor he was suddenly busy. it was like nothing had mattered. all of the things you had done together, the things you had said, nothing mattered anymore. he left you in the dark, and you were two strangers with a secret now, nothing more. he had to be the bigger person. if jungkook couldn’t tell you no then he would just have to start acting on it, even if it meant ignoring your existence all together.

if jungkook wasn’t going to fuck you, there was someone who wanted to. and who better than jaehyun, who’s pants form a tent when you do as much as smile at him– and who better to flaunt your power around than jungkook. which bought you here, laid out on your beach towel, sipping on your soju mixed cocktail and reading a novel when jungkook came to you with a scowl on his face and a question ready on his tongue.

“do you think i’m stupid?” he couldn’t hold himself together anymore. you were prancing around in a tight bikini and letting another man touch you. a man that wasn’t him. so he took his chance when your brother, jihyo, and jaehyun joined a volleyball game on the far side of the beach. he finally caught you after you made yourself very unattainable during this trip.

“you’re blocking the sun, too big. move.” you moved your sunglasses up on your face.

“listen, come back to the house with me. i think we should talk–”

“about? about how i was another pussy to you, is that the conversation you want to have?” now he had your attention, because talk? about what?

“get up.”

“no.” you turned a page on your book.

“y/n,” a very frustrated jungkook pinched his nose. “i said get the fuck up.”

“and i said no. the fuck do you think you are? my brother?” you spat back.

“nah, i’m worse.”

now you were being dragged by your arm down the beach, up the boardwalk, and back to the house. you stumbled up the sandy porch with your things in hand, jungkook angrily flinging your arm from his tight grip and trailing behind you. once the door was unlocked and you were being pushed inside, coming into the dimmed living area that had sun sneaking in through the curtains. “okay, i’m here. now what? and make it quick because they’re probably looking for us.”

“i let gyu know i walked you back to change.”

“to change? i– okay sure. my parents will be home soon though.”

“they’re out at dinner. so i’ll ask again, do you think i’m stupid? just picking at me, trying to piss me off.” he had you corned, taking another step back with every word that fell from his lips until your bare back hit the door. “you’re gonna get that lil boy hurt y/n. mingyu’s one thing, but me? tsk tsk.” he sucked his teeth. “he won’t walk intact around me.” his voice dropped a few octaves and you had nowhere to look but his disrespectfully, good looking face.

“who’s fault is that?” you couldn’t help the smirk that came onto you when jungkook indirectly confessed just how bothered he was. “you’re the one that’s gonna get him fucking hurt. now hyunnie has to get whacked by mingyu because you wanna ghost me.” jungkook thought it was comical. your mouth was too big for your body, constantly trying him, picking at him, and now you were folding under his strong gaze. his eyes were darker than what they usually were, holding something more intense.

“hyunnie?” he raised his eyebrows, letting out a loud cackle. jungkook actually laughed out loud. “you’re so full of shit. both of you, probably made for each other even.”

“mhm pretty much.” your eyes rolled dramatically. he was close enough to where you were able to poke at his hard chest, landing your finger four times to match the speed of your words. “such. a. fucking. hypocrite– i can’t take you! god forbid i flirt with jaehyun to pass some time. i forgot you’re the only one that can eat my pussy and dip out as if it never happened.”

he put his hands on his waist, shut his eyes, and took a deep long breath. “i never forgot about us, i didn’t want to just forget, but i had to.”

“two months! two jungkook!” you screamed, waved your fingers in front of him. “that’s how long i’ve waited for you to speak to me, touch me– fuck– something! this right here,” you gestured to the little space around you. “i’d rather have us arguing like this than nothing at all!” it was hard to mask the hurt in your voice, it certainly didn’t go unnoticed by jungkook. yet his own jealousy had been too persistent for him to calm down right now.

“and that’s how you went about it? hopping on mediocre dick to spite me?” his voice, his fucking voice. you hated how it made your bikini bottoms cling to your pussy. “have fun fucking on somebody that can’t make you cum. thought that’s what you wanted though, right baby?“

“get a fucking life, jungkook.” you couldn’t even look at the man. probably because the atmosphere was getting thicker and you could hear his voice dripping with the same condescending tone that got you into this mess.

a maniacal smirk spread across his face. he could do this all day with you, he wanted to do this all day. “jaehyun too? mhmm just gonna ruin that boy’s life. that’s cool, when im telling mingyu about his backstabbing friend i wont tell him how much of a slut his lil sis is. secrets safe with me.”

“but you’re gonna leave out how you had his slutty little sister first?” you stepped forward, closing the gap between you. the two of you couldn’t help your wandering eyes, his eyes taking in your lips and sandy skin, yours being stuck on his mosaic of tattoos and the piercing in his lip that you desperately wanted in between your teeth. it was all a matter of who was going to break first now. “going on and on about how pretty my pussy is, so wet and tight for you wasn’t it kookie?”

“mouth way too big for your body, baby.”

“what? can’t handle it? oh and you are fucking stupid by the way. and you’ll look even stupider when jaehyun is balls deep in this–”

“go upstairs.” his voice was so quiet, yet ringing in your ears like bells. his resolve was the thinnest it’s ever been when it’s come to you. “i can show you what’s stupid, come on.” he titled his head towards the stairs, starting up them while you stayed put, defying him for the last time.

“come and get me then.”

just like that, the composure, the respect, all came crashing down. without warning, jungkook tangled his fist in your hair, wrapping the strands around and around until his hand was full. his grip was rough, making sure to make a statement, not with pain, but control. “on your knees. you woke me up now baby.” before you could do you were being forced. here he had you, making you crawl for him while he pulled you along by your hair. like a fucking mutt. it was a scene so lewd and degrading to where you didn’t even think you could muster up the thought of it.

“jungkook– ouch!”

jungkook stopped your journey mid way. with a fistful of your hair still, he turned his half naked body towards you, ducking down just so the metal of his piercing was grazing your ear. “oh uh uh, where’d she go? what happened to my big, bad pretty girl? what? can’t handle it?” he cooed, spitting your words right back at you as he ignored your whining and continued to walk you up the stairs and into your bedroom. a bedroom he’d known since childhood due to how much he and mingyu terrorized you in it during family vacations. now decades later he was dragging you into the same bedroom, ready to fuck some sense into you. still on your knees, you rested yourself against your door and watched him.

“gonna ruin that cute face, but we’re gonna clean up that attitude.” adrenaline ran through you when you realized just how much bigger he was than you. his broad shoulders, veiny forearms, meaty thighs– it had just occurred to you how screwed you were. jungkook yanked down his swim shorts, damp cloth still clinging to his legs and outlining the muscle. he bit back a laugh when he heard the way you audibly gasped when his cock slapped against his stomach. he was already leaking for you, fuck he’s been leaking since your tits were ready to fall out of that excuse of a bathing suit.

“clean up my attitude?” and still your mouth was moving. “if you can–” jungkook quickly made use of your mouth, taking ahold of your locks again and sank inside of your warmth. deeper, deeper, deeper, until you became a drooling, slobbery, babbling mess who struggled to adjust to his size. he mustered up a groan when he began moving. bottoming out, dragging himself back down your warm tongue, and leaving you just to suck on his tip. he repeated the same motion which felt like a thousand times over. you breathed in sharply when bullied his cock just deep enough into your hole so that your nose tickled his pelvis. tears started to prick your eyes, your face flushed with violent heat, along with muffled cries for him to slow down. your cunt had a mind of its own, only wanting his torture to continue further.

“aht aht. pretty girls don’t talk with their mouths full.” this was who he really was, mocking and plain evil. “that’s how you listen? when you’re full of my cock huh?” no response. now you were being pulled up for air, your once comfortable and full mouth now deserted. he held his thick cock in one hand and your hair in the other. “i asked you a question doll.”

you nodded slowly through stained tears and plump, glistening lips. slow nods transitioned to quick and now he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. his snippy girl finally had no more fight left in her. “i– i listen.” you nodded frantically. “i listen when im full of you.”

“full of me? use all those nasty words you learned.”

“i listen when im full of your cock koo.”

a laugh rumbled through him, now it’s koo and kookie again when he’s making a mess out of you. “well look at that, i fucked this cute hole into obedience.” he pushed himself back down your throat with the goal of watching you slurp up his nut– until you both heard the front door creak open, followed by the familiar footstep pattern of none other than–

your brother.

your face morphed with panic, trying to push back at the same man you weren’t supposed to be giving into. jungkook wasn’t letting you off easy, you were going to finish exactly what you started. he didn’t give a fuck who came in, he wasn’t done with you. so if he had to finish you off with your brother knocking on the other side of your door so be it. “y/n! jungkook! where are you guys?!” mingyu called throughout the quiet house. your names rang from each end that he searched. “guys? you’ve been gone for like an hour!” your fear filled eyes locked with a way too calm jungkook who did nothing but move to lock your door and hit the back of your mouth with his tip again. his tatted finger went up to his lips and now you were wondering if you’d come out of this alive.

both of you.

“gyu!” jungkook called out. you could hear your brothers footsteps get closer until they stopped at your door. your heart thumped against your chest so loudly you felt like he could hear. he tried the door, jiggling the knob. “hey man calm down, i’m naked.”

“naked? in here?” mingyu said with disbelief.

“relax, y/n just let me use her bathroom. you know her room has the best shower,” he sounded completely at ease. way too at ease for someone face fucking his best friends sister. “she isn’t here, changed and went back out to the boardwalk, you probably walked past her.”

mingyu sighed. “fucking figured, all her shit is all over the living room. just dropped it and went back out?” why did the thrill of potentially being caught have you opening your mouth wider, tongue resting against the underside of his shaft while you waited for him to spill into your mouth. “we’re finishing up on the beach though now. also we’re doing snores tonight, so we might have to make a store run. she left her phone downstairs so if you see her just let her know.”

“gotcha, i’ll be– sshit–” jungkook didn’t mean for that to come out as a grunt, but he was so close and you felt so goddamn good. “i’ll be on the lookout for her.” he said just as he spilled down your throat. he kept himself so well put with mingyu on the other side, you’d think he’s snuck around like this before.

“thanks man, and hey, i’m glad you and y/n are talking again. hated this vacation at first.” you heard mingyu strut back down the stairs. you felt like you could breathe once you heard the front door slam shut. jungkook pulled your head up, his cock dropping from your mouth with a pop! he didn’t even have to tell you to swallow. it was already done, and you were already showing him that you swallowed it all like the big girl he knew you were.

“did so well for me doll, s’ pretty and all mine.” he caressed your face with gentleness after using you as if you were nothing to him. you’d never done something like this, so lewd and obscene. now you felt like an addict, aching for your next fix. jungkook’s jaw tensed as he gazed at you, a flicker of guilt breaking through his cocky exterior. “if we’re going to do this, we need some ground rules… are you sure you want this?” he said firmly, though his touch betrayed his reluctance to let you go.

“jungkook,” you sighed softly. “we’re too far gone.”

“i didn’t ask you that. i asked you if you want this.”

you stared at him, the weight of his question settling in your chest. “this is all i’ve ever wanted,” you whispered, the words barely audible but firm. jungkook’s eyes softened for a split second before a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“good,” he muttered, pulling you up from your spot in the floor and into his arms. his mouth was on yours before you could say another word, firm and demanding, yet fleeting enough to leave you wanting more. when he pulled back, the cocky glint in his eyes was back in full force. “see how you just saved a man’s life? your little boyfriend gets to live.”

You rolled your eyes. “you’re insufferable, you know that?” you shot back, grabbing a nearby throw pillow and launching it at him. He dodged it effortlessly, laughing as he caught your wrist before you could grab something else.

“had you choking on this insufferable dick though,” he quipped, his hand lingering a moment too long before he finally let go. the moment he did you landed a hard punch on his chest. “now, get dressed, with actual clothes.” as much as he liked looking, you were no longer prancing around like that for as long as jaehyun was here. in fact, jungkook was declaring him banned from any family vacations from here on out.

“i hate you.” you said, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you as you followed him into your bathroom.

later on that night while the boys were helping setting up with your parents, you and jihyo stayed in the kitchen to prepare some smores. you thought you were the only one who knew about your secret rendezvous with jungkook, to which you were about to learn– was completely wrong. as you and jihyo yapped about everything under the sun you learned a lot about her that you’d prefer you didn’t know. yet she knew more about you than you did. “jihyo– okay ew. anymore talk about my brothers private parts and no one’s having smores because my throw up will be covering them.” you cringed for hopefully the last time after she thought it was hilarious to tell you how good mingyu was with his tongue.

“okay fine, you then lil gyu.” she grinned deviously, nudging your side while assembling the smores stack. “someone’s been pinning after you, how’s that going?”

“oh– me and jaehyun? that’s never gonna happen,” you let out a nervous giggle. “he’s nice and all but not my type. gyu also wouldn’t ever let me date his friends. over before it started.”

jihyo’s silence and smile only grew. “i wasn’t talking about jaehyun… in fact, i think you guys are more obvious than you realize.” you froze. before letting panic settle you remembered, it’s just jihyo. however you still looked around the perimeter of the kitchen and living room, even glancing at the sliding patio doors to make sure mingyu was far away from them.

your hands stopped their actions and you breathed in once, a heavy sigh following. “do we make it too obvious?”

“umm with that cold war that you two dragged everyone else into? hell fucking yes!” she turned to you dramatically, growing serious for a moment. “don’t worry, mingyu doesn’t have enough brain cells for it to click for him yet.”

you stared outside, taking in the sight of your parents joking around with jungkook. jaehyun and mingyu were still throwing wood into the pit, ready to chuck one at jungkook for being the one with the most muscle yet not helping. “do you think he’ll be mad at us? at him?” jihyo gave you a small pout at first, but her lips quirked into a smile. you never cared about yourself in this situation. you knew you’d always be mingyu’s sister, his full fledged family.

but would jungkook always be mingyu’s friend?

jihyo walked you over to a stool and sat you down. she took your hands in hers and gave you the best she could. “i think it’ll be… an adjustment. there’s no thought in the back of his head telling him jungkook might have feelings for you. so when he knows, yeah he might be taken aback.” in other words, mingyu was going to have yours and jungkook’s heads on a stick. she tried to sugar coat it as much as she could, but you knew her sweet words for you had a double meaning.

“feelings?” you could laugh out loud. “if you count feelings as leaving me high and dry and then randomly deciding to look at me again when you feel threatened by someone else then yeah, feelings… i guess. we’re still working out the kinks.”

now you had jihyo laughing out loud, slapping her knee even. “you two don’t even have to acknowledge each other. it’s seeping off of you. you really are lil gyu, plain ole stupid.” the two of you giggled like schoolgirls, hitting each other lightly. it felt good to have someone to speak to about this. your friends were heavy liabilities, if they knew then mingyu knew. you couldn’t even speak to your sibling, and you couldn’t even imagine his hurt when he’d find out. suddenly all the cares you never had were coming to the surface, you understand jungkook now. could you… really do this?

your thoughts were interrupted by three rowdy, hungry boys who made their way through the sliding doors and into the kitchen. in just a matter of seconds they had managed to steal half of your prepared smores stacks, which earned them a nice scolding from a very mean jihyo.

as the banter continued between the five of you, it had been distracting you long enough to realize that jaehyun’s repeated attempts at you had finally come to a halt. mingyu must have given him a stern talking to while jungkook was busy dragging you to the house to give you an equally stern face fucking. with a few beers cracked open and everyone working in tandem on the smores, there left a lot of room for usually unnoticed things to start coming to light.

mingyu, who was still lazily holding jihyo’s waist, suddenly straightened as the chatter in the kitchen became background noise. he took another swig of his beer, but his eyes stayed locked on the way jungkook leaned slightly toward you, his shoulder brushing yours as you both laughed softly at something only the two of you could hear.

it wasn’t anything obvious—no stolen glances or shy touches— but just the way jungkook’s body naturally angled toward you, like he couldn’t help it.

mingyu’s grip tightened on the beer bottle, his gaze narrowing ever so slightly. he knew jungkook well—better than anyone—and this wasn’t just friendly. realization hadn’t settled just yet, maybe he was just mistaken, reading too much into it.

it was just odd. the way your smile lingered just a bit longer for him than anyone else, it was odd.

masterlist

taglist <3: @jungshaking @junecat18

[pickingupmymercedes]

Ageless wonder - Lewis Hamilton

warnings: mentions of alcohol, Toto being an ass (himself)

genre: fluff and teasy Lewis

wordcount: +1k

a/n: I had to, 'shelf life' my ass

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Waking up with a hangover wasn’t new to me, Lewis was the one non-alcoholic Tequila master in the relationship after all. But waking up feeling like my skull is auditioning for the lead role in Crash: The Musical, though? That’s special.

My tongue feels like I licked an old battery, my hair probably looks like I got electrocuted, and the sun streaming through the window is public enemy number one.

And still somewhere through the haze of pain, I catch a whiff of something heavenly: Lewis’s cologne.

Thank God. Home.

There’s a low chuckle near me, and the bed dips slightly. “Morning, superstar.”

I pry one eye open. Lewis is sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing a grin that’s somewhere between amusement and concern, though he’s annoyingly chipper, like he hasn’t just watched me drag myself through hell disguised as a bottle of – real – tequila.

“Why are you so loud?” I croak, turning over to bury my face in the pillow.

“I’m not loud; you’re sensitive” he shoots back, that stupid chuckle rumbling again. “Rough night”

I flip him off without looking, which only makes him laugh harder. “Rough week actually.”

And it has been rough.

Toto, king of ominous sound bites, had suggested, in the newly launched Mercedes book, that Lewis might’ve been near his “shelf life.”

As if Lewis wasn’t out there fighting the excuse of a car they couldn’t understand how to work around, pulling phenomenal races from P10, setting twelve fastest laps, lapping four-tenths faster than his own teammate at some points.

And if there’d been more laps? Well, Toto might’ve had to eat his words on a very public stage.

I’d been at the race, of course. Watching from the garage, headphones clamped tight over my ears, my hands clasped together until they ached. I’d barely breathed until he crossed the line in P2, the garage erupting around me.

The relief was immediate, but it didn’t last.

I caught the frustration in his shoulders as he climbed out of the car, the way it clung to him during the cooldown drive to the podium interview and those mandatory interviews.

He’d wanted more.

He hadn’t said anything directly to me, of course—he never does when the sting is fresh. But I know the weight when I see it.

It’s in the way he’s still tense even as he waves to the fans, in the measured, overly polite answers he gives in interviews.

Watching him absorb the quiet digs, I wanted to storm the press room and defend him, consequences be damned. But what good would it do? Still, the knot in my chest wouldn’t loosen until I saw him smile again.

And then Toto had gone and made it worse. Of course. Lewis’s teammate was “from another planet,” while Lewis was just working with a “super strong car.”

I’d had to sit there and smile politely, even though every part of me wanted to grab Toto by the collar and shake him.

It wasn’t my fight, though—not really. It was Lewis’s. And Lewis, being Lewis, handled it like a pro. Calm. Measured.

Acknowledging his own faults while subtly calling out the micro-aggressions of all sorts he’s dealt with his whole career.

That’s my man. Too classy for this world.

But let’s be real: the post-race party in Vegas? That was for me. Not that I’d ever admit outside of our bedroom, but seeing him relaxed, smiling, surrounded by people who adore him? That was the real victory.

And the price for that? Me, nursing the world’s worst hangover and Lewis, laughing at my expense. Classic.

His voice broke through my thoughts. “You really went for it last night. Celebrating like you won something.”

“I did win something,” I mumble into the pillow.

“Oh yeah?” His tone is teasing, and I can feel his grin without even looking.

I finally roll onto my back, squinting at him like he’s the sun itself. “Bragging rights,” I said. “Because you…” I pointed vaguely in his direction, “…are a goddamn force of nature. And because everyone who said otherwise is a dumbass.”

He shakes his head, amused, but there’s a softness in his eyes now.

“And,” I add, smirking despite the pounding in my head, “I won tequila shots with Miles. That’s also worth celebrating.”

“Clearly.” He gestures vaguely at my disheveled state, and I kick at him weakly with one foot.

He dodges easily, then leans back, holding his phone up with a sly smile.

“Pot, meet kettle,” I muttered, rolling onto my stomach and burying my face in the pillow. Except that pillow smelled like him, which was entirely too distracting.

“What’s got you so chirpy this morning anyway?” I mumbled into the pillowcase, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

He had an uncanny ability to bounce back after days like these, his body apparently immune to exhaustion. I would’ve hated him for it if I didn’t love him so much.

“Just enjoying the comments on your last post,” he said nonchalantly.

That got my attention. I lifted my head to look at him. “What post?”

Lewis didn’t answer. Instead, he smirked and held up his phone, just out of my reach.

“Oh, come on,” I groaned, dragging myself upright. My head protested the movement, but curiosity outweighed the pain. “What did I do?”

“You don’t remember?” His grin widened. “It’s good. Really good.”

“Lewis.” I reached for his phone, but he leaned back, clearly enjoying this way too much.

“I think it’s fair to say the caption was… pointed,” he said, drawing the word out.

“Pointed at what?” My patience was wearing thin, and my curiosity was spiraling into mild panic.

He finally handed me the phone, and the moment I saw the screen, the haze of my hangover lifted just enough to make room for a new emotion: horror.

The photo was innocent enough—just me and Lewis at some ridiculous Vegas afterparty, his arm slung around my shoulders, both of us grinning like idiots. But the caption. Oh, the caption.

“All in on ageless wonder”

And my jaw drops. “Oh my God.”

Lewis is laughing now, low and warm and entirely too entertained. “You went all in, babe.”

I scroll through the comments, and my stomach flips. Hundreds of thousands of likes. Thousands of comments. Most are supportive—#GoatHamilton is trending, apparently—but a few are... less so.

I can’t help it but laugh. “Drunk me is bold.”

“Drunk you is sincere” he corrects, taking the phone back and locking the screen.

“Toto kinda deserves it.” I sit up, wincing as the motion sends my head spinning. “How long can I leave it up before PR calls me personally to tell me I’m banned from every Mercedes garage on Earth?”

Lewis checked his watch like he was genuinely considering it. “I’d say we’ve got a couple hours before the panic sets in. Maybe three if I keep ignoring my phone.”

I grin at him. “Reckless. I like it.”

He grins back, and for a moment, it’s just us. No hangovers, no drama, no shelf-life bullshit. Just Lewis and me, in sync as always.

He kissed me then, and for a moment, the lingering fog of tequila and regret melted away. All that mattered was him—his warmth, his steadiness, his love that he didn’t have to put into words because it was always there, in everything he did.

Lewis always had a way of grounding me, of silencing the noise in my head with something as simple as a kiss. It wasn’t just the feel of his lips—it was the way his hands cupped my face, anchoring me to him, the unspoken reassurance in the way he held me.

He didn’t need words to remind me that we were a team, that no matter how loud the world got, we’d always have this.

And I knew—I’d burn through a thousand hangovers just to feel this peace

“How much trouble are you when Toto sees that post?” I ask after a few moments of us studying each other.

He smirks. “Don’t worry.”

“Remind me to confiscate my phone next time I drink.” I lean back against the headboard, closing my eyes again.

“Not a chance,” he says, and there’s so much affection in his voice it makes my chest ache.

I peek at him through one eye. “You like chaos too much.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs, still grinning. “Or maybe I just like you.”

Damn him.

I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling now, the pain in my head fading to the background. Lewis has that effect on me. He always has.

And as much as I want to give him hell for waking me up, for teasing me, for letting me post that caption in the first place, I can’t bring myself to care.

Because at the end of the day, Lewis is Lewis. And he doesn’t need anyone to tell him who he is.

Although I’ll keep on shouting it from the rooftops if I have to.

Shelf life, my ass.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend @unlikelystay

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[sparklingchim]

you're losing me 02 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 5k

genre: angst, married couple, age gap, ceo jk, nepo baby oc, second chance romance

rating: 18+

warnings: pregnancy scare, mean possessive jungkook 😾, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, fingering, choking, oc gets her hands tied bc she's a brat ! ☝🏼, blowjob, cum eating, car sex, teasingg, tipsy oc, v vulnerable oc :(, dirty talk, daddy kink, crying, one boob bite methinks

summary: having a bit too much fun at chanyeol's halloween party, jungkook unexpectedly joins the party too.

a/n: it's finally here !! i hope u like it hihi <3

you're losing me masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Chanyeol never misses with his Halloween parties.

And usually, you never miss with your costumes too, but given the circumstance you’re glad to even attend.

Truthfully, it was entirely your own fault, and you hate to admit it because you had been extremely excited to wear your customised Barbie doll outfit, but one spill of your wine and the dress was disastrously ruined.

So you had to come up with a spontaneous Plan B.

You finally found usage for the small Victoria Secret wings from their special collection you received during a fashion show. Cinching a lace-embellished corset from Dolce & Gabbana, you paired it with a flirty ruffled miniskirt from Chanel. Your hair was crowned with crystal-embellished hairpins by Jennifer Behr. And oh, those satin heels by Jimmy Choo, adorned with dazzling crystals, added the perfect dose of sparkle to the outfit. You think you might’ve redefined last minute-magic.

“You’re trending on Twitter.”

As you sit on the couch, reaching down to retrieve the ping pong ball for Eunwoo turn at beer pong, Chanyeol abruptly shoves his phone in front of you. His screen is showing the trending page on Twitter.

“Didn’t realise my costume is that cute.” You look down on yourself. It’s a basic costume, but you would have thought that Chanyeol’s vampire look gained more attention.

“Your outfit’s cute, but everyone’s talking about what you posted on your Story,” Chanyeol remarks. He taps on your name trending and scrolls through a myriad of Tweets, with people reposting the picture.

“Oh.”

Eunwoo peeks over Chanyeol’s shoulder and reads the Tweets. He chuckles. “Everyone’s just talking about how hot we look.”

You giggle, swatting his arm.

You didn’t expect a little mirror pic creating chaos to this extent.

It was just a funny coincidence seeing Eunwoo dressed up in a matching costume to in a devil costume, complete with fitting horns and wings, creating an impromptu couple costume. It was his idea to take a picture.

You probably should have considered that Eunwoo is a rising idol and actor. Everyone adores him. And seeing him photographed next to a girl off-screen, especially when it’s not for a highly anticipated KBS drama, might not sit well with everyone.

“Has your hubby seen it?” Chanyeol asks.

You shrug. “I dunno. Maybe? He does regularly check what I post.” But he told you how busy he is today, so you’re not sure if he saw.

“Have you thought about my offer, by the way?” Eunwoo asks.

“What offer?” Chanyeol curiously chimes in.

“The lead role in my next drama. They're srill looking for an actress and honestly, I think ___ would be incredible for this one.”

Chanyeol’s eyes grow wide. “You two in a drama? That’s insane.”

“I’ve never tried acting. Not sure if I’d be any good,” you confess,

“I feel like you’re good at anything,” Chanyeol assures with a grin.

“I’ll think about it.”

They both resume playing beer pong with the others while you watch them as you drink.

As you take a sip from your drink, the weight of lingering gazes persists – less intense than in the beginning, yet a subtle scrutiny remains.

The curious looks undoubtedly trace back to the headlines two weeks ago, when pictures of Jungkook and you in his car near the gynaecologist’s building surfaced online. Captured in a vulnerable moment, perched on Jungkook’s lap with tears streaming down your face, you know how it must’ve looked like to the public.

You couldn’t stand those pictures making the rounds, especially with you in tears.

~

2 weeks ago

“You don’t need to worry.” Jungkook gently traces his thumb over the back of your hand.

You huff, frowning at your interlaced fingers. “But I do worry.”

“Love, if you are potentially-”

“Don’t say it!” you cut him off. “Hearing the word makes me more anxious.”

You hear him utter an exhausted sigh. “You said yourself that your period has been irregular in the past.”

“Yeah, minus the morning sickness.” Your tone is a bit sharp, maybe even sassy, and you don’t actually want it to come off that way and in another circumstance you’d feel guilty, but you’re too drained from your emotions and the conversation to care.

“But the tests you took were negative,” he tries again.

“It’s just plastic. I can’t trust it.”

You took countless of pregnancy tests weekly, filled up the bathroom bin with those stupid little things until you finally acquiesced to Jungkook’s persistent suggestion to schedule an appointment with your gynaecologist.

The slow traces on your hand come to a halt. His fingers lightly squeeze your chin, directing your gaze at him.

“I promise you, whatever the outcome is we’ll make the best of it.”

“I don’t understand how you’re able to stay calm,” you say, eyebrows arching at his composed demeanour.

In truth, this is an authentic depiction of your relationship dynamic. You deal with lots of anxiety, always have been, and Jungkook stands as the serene counterbalance – tranquil and calm, akin to a gentle, silent breeze sweeping over your arms just as it gets unbearably hot in summer and you’re out of options to cope with the temperature.

But this is concerning you both and you can’t grasp the ease with which he handles the plaguing situation.

“Either outcome won’t change anything drastically.”

You head turns to the side and your stare out the windscreen, a hint of pique evident as your tongue pokes your cheek.

“I don’t want a baby.” It’s barely a whisper under your breath. “But you want one.” Your eyes flutter back to him.

Thinking about it, it dawns on you that a potential pregnancy would undoubtedly bring joy to everyone in your life. Especially your dad, who has been eagerly anticipating it for years – bugging you about it almost every time you see him. However, at 24 you have dreams beyond motherhood. The thought of being tied down to it now fills you with a quiet sense of unease.

You know that Jungkook views it differently. It’s understandable; he is 31, and despite mutually agreeing to wait for a baby, for him it’s not the end of the world. His calm demeanour, shaped by having navigated through a previous marriage and bringing a wealth of life experience, contrasts with your apprehension.

Jungkook hesitates. “I do want a baby,” he confirms, a shadow of regretful longing crossing his face. “But it doesn’t matter. Whatever the result is, I will support it – I will support your decision.” Upon squeezing your bare thigh, he realises how cold you are. “Love, you’re freezing.” He fetches a fuzzy blanket from the backseat that he keeps there just for you. He tucks you under the comfy blanket.

“It’s ‘cause I’m scared,” you mumble, leaning back in your seat.

“Come here.” He softly anchors his hands on your hips and guides you to his lap. “It pains me to see you like this.” He wraps the blanket around you tighter. “You don’t wanna go in there and get this done quickly? Avoiding the inevitable messes with your headspace.”

“Just a few more minutes.”

Jungkook mindlessly cups your cheek, tatted knuckle skimming over your skin.

Maybe it’s the way he peers at you. With a gentle shimmer reflecting sheer fondness and poised to unfold the world at your feet, build a home for you wherever your finger points to without having to ask. Maybe it’s the way he is holding you to himself, his hands serving as a protective embrace, a shield warding off any harm that would dare come your way. Or maybe it’s the tall, daunting building on the side of the road, towering over you like a spectre of uncertainty.

But something brings tears to your eyes – making you grow smaller and younger and suddenly fragile.

“My love,” Jungkook utters tenderly. It fills you with warmth and so much love.

Worry contorts his face. His hand around you holds you tighter.

“I’m not gonna cry.” It serves more as a reassurance for yourself than for him.

“You know you can when you’re with me.”

You refuse, adamantly shaking your head. But when you lose control over the tears stinging your eyes, you bury your face into his neck.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, adding a small peck to your temple. “It’s okay to feel this way.”

“Don’t like it,” you murmur into his now tears stained skin.

“But there’s no point in denying it.”

“There’s just...so much. All at once.” You lean back a bit, finger pointing right to your heart.

“I know, love.” He gingerly caresses your back. He softens at your trembling bottom lip, a piece of his own heart falling apart upon seeing you vulnerable on his lap. “I’ll carry everything you can’t, remember?” It’s a vow that formed the foundation of your shared existence. In the quiet assurance of his voice, he continues, “I’ll carry your worries, your fears, your doubts.” His promise is a soothing melody in the symphony of your shared moment. “As long as we talk – communicate properly, this won’t be difficult.”

“But we do talk,” you reply, scrunching your stuffy nose. “No?”

“Yeah, I know.” He nods, thumbing away the tear from the corner of your eye. “But I need you to be honest with me regarding this. No hiding your thoughts from me.”

“I won’t.”

“You’re ready now?” Jungkook asks. As much as he comforts you, traces of curiosity glimmer in his eyes.

“I think so.”

“There’s nothing to worry.” Jungkook smiles in that boyish and lovely way that it coaxes a weak smile on your face.

~

Jungkook had been right the whole time. You weren’t pregnant.

There had been nothing to worry.

You’re still in awe at how he never doubted his feeling. He just knew you weren’t pregnant – typical Jungkook, always has this uncanny grasp on things, like an innate ability.

Your gynaecologist attributed it to a lack of vitamins and advised better hydration.

Jungkook, feeling more than a tad guilty, bombards you with constant reminders to take your vitamins, drink and eat even more than he used to.

“Is that Jeon Jungkook?” A hushed female voice utters to the person beside her.

As you gaze upward, your eyes lock onto Jungkook in the back of the crowd. A flutter dances through your heart at the mere sight of him.

Jungkook’s presence demands every ounce of attention as people instantly recognise him. He’s draped entirely in black. His pants temptingly cling to his thighs, the buttons of his shirt straining across his chiselled chest and strong arms. His Rolex sits prettily around his wrist, it’s gleam harmonising with the brilliance of his wedding ring.

And you find it so funny, silly almost, because this is just Jungkook in his work attire, you see him like this every day, and yet people’s eyes morph into tiny hearts as he effortlessly strolls by, leaving a trail of heated admiration.

Sometimes Jungkook has a way of teasing your sanity. He turns your life into a whimsical romance, making you wonder if you’re living in a silly, sappy romance movie with the dreamiest guy as the lead. Because in this fleeting moment, the world around you dissolves into a blur, and you see nothing but him. Everyone fades, except him.

“Jungkook!” You stand up, a bit wobbly on your heels. He immediately wraps his hands around your sides.

“Hi, love.” He kisses you softly.

You missed his sweet, gentle voice when he talks to you.

He rakes a stare over you, one brow arched. “You’re already drunk? Who’s been giving you drinks?”

You deny his question with a dragged out “no”. “Just a bit tipsy – if even.” Before he can comment anything else regarding how many drinks you’ve already had, you ask, “Where’d you get these cute horns from?” Your hand reaches for the hairband with two attached red horns on them.

“Don’t know the brands name. Just a cheap store down the street from the company.”

You tilt your head as you ponder. “I don’t know of any cheap store close to the company.”

A ping pong ball rolls towards you on the floor. As you bend down to retrieve the ball, Jungkook’s hand pulls you back by the waist and he picks it up himself. His possessive hand travels to your butt and he slides his palm over the ruffles of your skirt.

“You’re not wearing any panties, are you?” he whispers into your ear. He throws the little ball towards the other end of the table. You shake your head, not really comprehending what he’s implying. Your more focused on how he effortlessly threw the ping pong ball straight into the cup.

“Yah, Jungkook! Come here, I need you in my team right now!” Chanyeol yells.

Jungkook lets out a humourless laugh. “Has Eunwoo not been good enough?”

Eunwoo sends a glare his way. “Chanyeol’s just taking everything too seriously.”

Jungkook rolls up his sleeve. “Too good that I’m also competitive.”

~

When Jungkook has enough of beer pong after carrying his team every round, he sits down next to you, pulling you to his lap.

You were just talking with Jisoo about the newest Dior collection, but she leaves the two of you alone with a knowing smile.

Jungkook swiftly takes the partially filled cup from your grasp and places it on the table. “You’ve had plenty to drink tonight.”

“I didn’t drink that much.” You don’t know exactly how much you drank because maybe you had too much to count, but you won’t tell him.

Jungkook cocks his head. He doesn’t need you to tell him to know.

“Get up.” His palms push your lower back.

“Huh?” You play with his necktie, leaning closer to his body. “For what?”

A crooked, entertained smirk crosses his face. “For what?” he scoffs.

His tatted arm snakes around you, his rolled-up sleeve flaunting the pretty inked lines adorning his skin. Jungkook grips you close to him. He angles your face down, his lips brushing over the sensitive part of your neck until he reaches your ear.

“Gonna fuck your brainless in my car. That’s why.”

His voice has got that pretty husky rasp you love so much. Tingles spread everywhere, especially your pussy. Jungkook sucks your earlobe between his teeth, and you think you can feel his smile when an unintended moan bubbles up your throat. You squirm in his lap.

“Someone’s got excited,” he teases as his hands run up your thigh, thumb disappearing underneath the white material of your skirt.

“Don’t.” Your fingers fly to his wrist. “There are people.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Now you care about people watching?”

Your lips pull together in a confused pout.

“You never notice, do you?” He decided against sneaking his finger further between your legs. Instead, he smoothens the hiked-up fabric of your skirt, though there is not much to adjust. It’s a skimpy skirt, it barely covers you.

“Notice what?” Your sparkly heels distract you and you move your feet around, watching every crystal glitter. “You’re being confusing, Koo.”

“I’m not being confusing,” he denies.

“Yes, you are.” You shift your gaze to him. A subtle crease appears between your brows. “You told me you didn’t have time for a silly Halloween party and yet you showed up.”

Jungkook dislikes seeing you upset. He really does. It creates this unexplainable feeling of protectiveness that sits right behind his rib – annoying and intolerable, coupled with a hint of guilt. But seeing your tipsy form upset delights him the tiniest bit.

“I was able to finish off early,” he explains. “Thought I’d join you, ‘cause you wanted me to.”

“And you were pretty mean to Eunwoo.”

“He can fuck off. I really don’t care about him.” His tongue peaks out as he swipes it over his bottom lip, teeth biting at the skin with furrowed brows.

“You’re such a meanie sometimes.” You run your fingers over his eyebrows, relaxing them.

“Want me to show you how mean I can be?” He tilts his head, a challenging glint in his eyes.

“You can’t be mean to me,” you say, shaking your head as your fingers settle on his broad shoulders. “Been good today.”

“You’ve been driving me insane tonight.”

“Me? What did I do?”

Jungkook rises to his feet with you, and you stagger a little at the sudden movement, but he keeps a safe arm around you. “Always so clueless,” he mumbles as he leads you through the crowd.

“___!” someone yells your name.

You stop when you see Karina rushing towards you.

“I’ve been looking for you all night!” She hands you a drink

You look at her through apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m leaving already. I’ll see you soon!”

Jungkook takes the drink from you after you had a sip and downs the whole thing. He tosses the cup into a near trashcan as you step out of the house.

“Oh, no. I told Eunwoo I’d give him my number,” you remember. “Lemme go back.”

But Jungkook’s hand on the small of your back remains firm.

“He’s not stupid. He’ll find a way to contact your manager.” Jungkook is pissed and you’re not quite sure if you heard it right, but you think he adds a small “Doesn’t need my wife’s number.”.

“Can you imagine me in a drama?” You giggle as you think about it. “Would you watch it?” You turn your head. “You don’t like watching dramas.”

“Of course, I’d watch it. Immediately.”

Your eyes spark up and Jungkook wants to have this image of your forever ingrained in his memory. A literal angel staring at him as if he was the one that hung up the stars.

You stumble over your heels when you refuse to look ahead, pretty eyes still admiring him. “Careful, love.” He quickly steadies you.

He unlocks his car when you reach it and opens the door to the backseat for you. But instead, you pull open the passenger door and bend over to open the glove compartment.

“Are there condoms left here?”

You search for the familiar package, but Jungkook hurriedly pulls you back, shutting it closed along with the car door.

“Nothing left,” he replies. “Get in the backseat.”

As you get into the car and settle on your back, you ponder, “Didn’t realise how many times we’ve fucked in the car.”

You're not particularly interested in cars, but in rare – or apparently not so rare – moments like these, you appreciate the spaciousness of Jungkook’s G-Wagon.

Before Jungkook joins you in the car, he scans the surroundings, vigilant for any lingering onlookers. He doesn’t need you on the front page of every media outlet again. You’ve had enough of that lately, and that darn Instagram Story of yours likely fuelled the gossip mill again.

Jungkook barely uses social media. You’re the only reason he has the apps on his phone. He doesn’t follow anyone except you, only has your notifications on. During a short break he mindlessly clicked on the Instagram notification, expecting a cute picture of your angel outfit – you had texted him complaining about your ruined Barbie dress and he suggested you could use the angel wings he once saw you carrying into your wardrobe.

Safe to stay he expected everything, but a picture with fucking Eunwoo wearing fucking matching costumes.

As hours passed by, his anger didn’t simmer; instead, it prompted his decision to make a swift trip to the dollar store and join you at the party.

“You tend to conveniently forget when you’re a needy brat.”

“It’s ´cause I’m not a brat,” you reply with a huff, yanking at his tie. “Just a bit needy sometimes.”

“Hmm, just a bit needy?” His knuckle follows along your jaw, teasing you with his gentle touches and the mock sympathy seeping from his tone.

You look so cute lying here for him, with the angel wings peeking from your sides and the little sparkly pins adorning your hair. He just wants to fuck you silly.

You nod pliantly. An innocent smile blossoms on your face.

Jungkook’s hand disappears under the ruffles of your skirt, middle finger sliding over your pussy. You gasp, body twitching at the sudden touch.

“So wet already?” he sneers. “All for me?”

You grind your pussy against him, hungry for more.

“And so greedy for me.” He spreads your pussy lips, gently rubbing the pad of his finger over your sensitive clit. Jungkook moves your skirt up and an immediate glint surfaces in his eyes. “So pretty.” He slips two fingers in, smirking when you shake beneath him. “Baby’s sensitive, huh?”

He pumps his fingers into you and your teeth sink into your bottom lip. The alcohol running through your veins heightens your sensitivity to his touch. Everywhere he touches leaves a shimmering trail of tingles, enveloping your body in a cloud of euphoria, a sensation both fuzzy and dreamy.

“I want you.” You reach for his cock, but Jungkook seizes your wrist.

“Did I say you could touch?” His voice drips with condescension.

You weakly shake your head, a frustrated whine accompanying it.

“Use your big girl words.” His fingers stop moving and he completely removes them when you remain silent. “C’mon,” he urges, growing more impatient.

“No, you didn’t,” you sulk. Even dare to look at him through a frown.

“You don’t get to do anything," he tells you. He loses hie tie, wraps it around your wrist in a swift, practiced motion and ties them above your head. “Just lie there and look pretty for me.” He pulls his pants and briefs down, stroking his hard cock before he teasingly nudges his tip against your clit.

You watch him play with your pussy and you’re unable to keep the desperate moans from leaving your mouth, eagerly waiting until he aligns his cock to your entrance, slowly filling you up with his entire length. A throaty moan reverberates when he’s all the way in.

“Pussy’s so good at taking me.”

A gasp leaves your mouth as he stretches you out. “So good,” you mumble.

Jungkook waits until he knows you’re used to h is size before he starts moving his hips.

Your tits move in the confines of your corset. Jungkook’s head dips down and you feel his tongue slide over the swell of your boobs that peek out, teeth slightly grazing over your skin.

“Don’t bite,” you utter between moans.

But Jungkook does exactly that. Even sucks on your skin a little bit.

“You think you have a say on anything?” His hand squeezes your face. Traces of petulance lie in your eyes. His other hand grips your hips, fingers buried in your skin to fuck you fast.

It’s almost ridiculous how fast Jungkook gets you to your high. He knows exactly what to do to get your walls clamp around his cock, begging him to give you just a little bit more to push you off the edge.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, eyes falling closed as you the pleasure builds up in your tummy.

But then Jungkook suddenly stops moving. You open your eyes to find Jungkook smirking at your trembling body, amused when a shaky breath escapes you.

“Why would you do that? I was close!”

He pulls his cock out, tapping it over your clit.

“Hmm, no idea why I would do that?” he asks, pushing his cock back into your pussy in one swift motion.

“I haven’t done anything,” you say meekly, staring at the way he slowly fucks you. He could make you cum so easily.

Jungkook sniffs a laugh. “Can’t recall anything bad you did?”

He picks up on his pace and you can’t think at all, barely able to shake your head as more breathless moans fly past your lips.

“Posting a couple costume picture online? Fuck, ___ what were you thinking?” He hooks his hands underneath your thighs, pulling them up to fuck deeper. “Wanted everyone talking about you two? Wanted to piss me off?”

“No,” you whine. “Didn't mean it that way. We- we didn’t plan on it at all. Just – when we saw each other it was really funny, and I just took a pic of it.” You’re a babbling mess at this point, the ability to form comprehensible sentences gone once Jungkook sticked his cock in you.

“I don’t fucking care,” he curses. “You know how people perceive this stuff.”

“You don’t... don’t think it was a silly coincidence?”

Jungkook is flush against you. Your nails dig into your palms at how deep his cock is buried in you.

“I should find it silly?” A deep glower settles on his face and in a sick, naughty way it turns you on, making your pussy involuntarily squeeze around his cock. “Fuck, ___, do you wanna cum at all?”

“No, please,” you fuss desperately. “Wanna cum.”

“Then start behaving. Quit being a brat.”

“I am good,” you try to convince him.

Jungkook shakes his head in dismissal. “Put on an angel costume and yet you’re such a dirty girl.”

While you may not encapsule the right persona regarding the angel outfit, Jungkook undoubtedly fucks you like the devil. So mean and selfish, teasing and cursing at you.

“Wanna be – wanna be good for daddy.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, hand travelling up your body until it reaches your throat. “Then don’t disappoint me.” With his shiny Rolex around his wrist, he wraps his fingers around you, squeezing the tiniest bit. You feel the familiar outline of his wedding ring press to your skin.

Your legs wrap around him and you try not to poke him with your heels, but tears obstruct your view and you can barely control yourself, the aching feeling to come undone is back in your tummy.

“Jungkook,” you utter between little desperate puffs. “Wanna cum so bad.”

“Only when I allow you to.” Jungkook looks down at your defeated, crushed face with a smug smirk. “Can do that, right? My wife’s capable of that, hmm?”

Your eyes flutter shut. A single tear rolls down the corner of your eye. “Yes, I – I can wait.”

“That’s my good girl.” He leans closer, whispering it into your ear. “Cock so good it’s making you cry, huh?” His lips press to the corner your eye and he kisses your tear away.

The more he talks and whispers dirty word into your ear, the harder it becomes to resist the temptation to pull yourself back and cum on his dick. But you want to be good for Jungkook, want to hear him praise you for being a patient girl.

“Slow down, please.” Your bound wrists unconsciously attempt to free themselves, but Jungkook’s knot is too tight for you to undo it. You’ll cum soon if he continues at this pace.

“Nuh-uh.” He denies firmly. “You can take it. Show me how good you are.” His fingers dig deeper into your throat and your eyes open again. His brows are furrowed, an angry flush tinting his cheeks. “That’s it. Look at me – look at me when you cum.”

It crosses your mind to secretly cum, but Jungkook’s got a knack for spotting your telltale signs, so it wouldn’t be that sneaky after all. You did try to do that once though. You couldn’t properly sit the next day.

Jungkook swipes his tongue over his thumb before he slips his hand between your legs and starts to slowly circle your clit. A devilish grin sparks up his face.

“You wanna cum so badly, don’t you?”

“Please.”

“Wanna cum all over my cock?” His thumb moves faster. “Make a little mess?”

“Yes,” you pant. Pleasure seeps through your entire body and the effort to ignore the feeling becomes so exhausting, more tears fill your eyes.

“Then cum for me,” Jungkook demands, keeping a gentle trace in his voice. His gaze remains on your face and he watches you with greedy eyes as you come undone beneath him.

It happens almost instantly, like a string that snapped. You’re body shakes as your orgasm rumbles through you and you’re so sensitive you want to yank his hand away fromyour clit, but Jungkook enjoys seeing your writhe way too much to stop playing with your nub.

Shaky breaths escape you. Jungkook fucks you slower now, still rolling his hips into you with precision to hit your sweet spot.

“Doing so good, love.” The hand on your throat moves to your face, swiping away the tears. “So good for me.”

And just as you’re about to tell him you’re too sensitive, Jungkook removes his finger from your clit and pulls his cock out. He sits down and pats your thigh. “Come here.”

Despite being tired from just cumming, you’re hungry for him just by the sight of Jungkook stroking his cock. You move to sit on your thighs, tied up hands on your lap.

Jungkook gathers your hair in his hand before he moves your head down. “Open wide,” he instructs, guiding his wet cock into your mouth.

You taste yourself on his dick as your slide your tongue around him. Jungkook is close to cumming. You can feel it in the way his he impatiently pushes your head further down his cock.

“Gonna cum in your mouth.” Tiny moans fill your ear and you take as much of him inside your mouth as you can. “Fuck, just like that.”

Your mouth fills with hot, salty cum and you continue bobbing your head up and down, getting every drop of it.

“Good girl.” Jungkook pulls you away from his cock. You swallow his load as you look at him. He hums approvingly. “Wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asks, untying the know from your wrists. He rubs his fingers over the red marks.

“I’m fine. Didn’t hurt.” Your eyes close when he pecks your forehead.

After he pulls up his pants and briefs, Jungkook checks his phone. His fingers are quick as he types something.

“Who’s texting you at this hour,” you ask, curiously peeking over his arm.

“Just work. I left a bit abruptly.” He tucks his phone away before you can read anything.

Before more questions can leave your lips, he meets yours in a sweet kiss.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he says, patting your hair to tame the mess on your head. “Once we’re home, I’m gonna give your ass the attention it hasn’t got yet.”

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 24 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Spoiled beyond his wildest dreams, Bradley tries to take some time to appreciate everything he has on his birthday, but it can be hard to contain his excitement.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, oral sex, anal sex, DILF Roo

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley was eager. He didn't want you to know how eager, but he was sure it was obvious by now.

"Your cheeks are pink," you whispered, cupping them in both of your hands as he buckled you in. "Did all the dancing and hot sauce get to you?"

"Something like that," he murmured, kissing you so thoroughly, you gasped when he pulled away. The look you gave him beneath the dome light was indecent as he dragged his hand up your body and between your breasts so he could stroke your chin and your perfect cheek. Oh, you absolutely knew why his face was flushed and his hands were so grabby. But it was your fault anyway.

"Should we head home for the night?" you asked innocently.

As if you hadn't been talking about how your ass was all his since this morning.

Fuck. Every year, you gave him the most perfect birthday. When he turned thirty-six, you took him to La Jolla, and he couldn't wait to take you back there next week when your parents came out to watch Rose. Last year when he turned thirty-seven, he fucked you so hard in the backseat of your wretched little Honda Civic, he totaled the thing. At least you got pregnant with Rose that night.

And this year, he got to spend the evening reminiscing and enjoying the company of his wife and his daughter. He couldn't even remember how fucking bad every other birthday was between the year he lost his mom and when he turned thirty-five right before he met you. Since then, he'd been treated like a king. Today was no different. Tonight would follow suit.

"Yeah," he grunted, "let's go home."

The drive back to Coronado was mostly quiet while Rose slept. You had your hand on Bradley's thigh, and he had his hand on top of yours.

"You're excited," you whispered into the darkness. "I can practically feel your anticipation, Roo."

"Oh, fuck," he groaned. He was a complete mess for you tonight, and you knew it. He might as well just say it, but he didn't want you to think you didn't satisfy him all the time. He ran his left hand over his face when he stopped at a red light. "I'm really horny, Sweetheart. Somehow you know just what to do that's going to make me go wild. You've always known."

He could feel you preening next to him as the light turned green, and he hit the accelerator. "I like making you excited on your birthday."

"You do this to me every day," he insisted.

A few minutes later, he was rushing Rose inside in her car seat, and you were locking the door behind him. "I'll put her down in her crib if you put Tramp outside?"

You were already heading for the sliding glass door as you said, "I'll meet you in our bedroom."

He grunted in response, unclipping Rose from her carrier and depositing her gently in her crib. "I'll come back to change your diaper," he promised, straightening out her outfit. 

He needed to calm the fuck down, because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. But when he walked into the bedroom, you made eye contact before pulling your dress over your head and tossing it onto the floor.

"You're killing me," he groaned, already working at his shirt buttons as you climbed into bed in your matching red lace bra and thong. He wrenched the fabric over his head and nearly fell down as he tried to take his shoes and jeans off at the same time. 

Just as he was about to dive in bed after you, he watched you hold up your hand and whisper, "Go get the lube from the bathroom drawer, birthday boy."

Bradley felt dizzy as he turned toward the open doorway and dug around inside your drawer until he was rewarded with exactly what he needed. Armed with the water based lube and a massive boner, this time he did dive into bed with you. The bottle came to rest next to your head, and you giggled as he dipped down into a push up to kiss you.

"You are eager."

"There's no point in lying, Sweetheart. I am fucking eager." 

It was almost better that this was a rare occurrence for him, because he just knew how good it was going to be as you tilted your chin up to kiss him. He could feel your hands on his abs before they slid inside his underwear. His eyes fluttered closed against the feel of your fingers teasing him, and he whispered, "I'm already turned on. Let me turn you on, too."

As he worked his way down your body, he felt your hands on his face. "Don't look at my belly," you whispered, pushing him further down toward your pussy.

"I like your belly," he grunted, pulling your underwear down so he could get to your tattoo and kiss you everywhere. "I like everything about you. Why do you think I'm so turned on?"

"Because you're about to have anal sex."

"With my wife." Bradley's lips skimmed your pussy as he spoke. "I'm turned on, because I've been thinking about��you. And how fucking hot you are. And about the fact that you trust me not to hurt you. And how you let know every intimate inch of your body."

"Roo," you whimpered as he licked your pussy before kissing you there.

"I don't really care if we have anal sex tonight or never again," he said, looking up your body and meeting your gaze as your fingers gripped his hair. "But don't act like the mere notion of me getting to explore and enjoy your body isn't going to drive me wild. You know me. You know what you do to me."

He watched your lace covered chest rise and fall as you sighed deeply. Bradley took your thighs in his hands as you spread your legs wider for him. "I want you to enjoy every inch of me."

He ran his nose through your slick warmth, kissing you everywhere while he said, "You're absolutely fucking perfect, Baby Girl."

-----------------------------

You weren't expecting to feel emotional tonight, but while your husband ate your pussy, leaving you a squirming, writhing mess in the middle of the bed, your heart skipped a beat as you replayed his words. 

I like everything about you. Why do you think I'm so turned on?

He told you so frequently that he thought you were perfect, and you kind of felt perfect as you sucked in deep breaths in nothing but your red bra while he gave you an absolutely killer orgasm.

"Oh god," you whined, your right heel digging into his back as he sucked on your clit and hit that mind-blowing spot inside you with two firm fingers. Bradley knew just what to do because you'd willingly let him explore your body to his heart's content for years. And you wanted him to have more, because you knew he'd give you more in return.

When your back arched off the bed and you came for him, you saw colorful stars at the edge of your vision. It was just that damn good. It took you a few seconds to catch your breath, but when you did, you rolled onto your stomach and looked back at him.

"It's your birthday, not mine," you whispered, and he raised one eyebrow before crawling until his body was covering yours. "Why am I the one getting all the orgasms?"

"Because I love you," he replied, kissing your cheek. You could feel his erection against the back of your thigh, and you wiggled your rear end against him until he groaned. "If you keep teasing me with that thing, I'm going to make a mess all over you."

You didn't try to hide your smile as you said, "Go ahead and make a mess inside me. Just go slow so it doesn't hurt."

His dark eyes widened a bit. "In your ass?" When you nodded, he asked, "Are you sure?"

"I'm absolutely sure, birthday boy."

But he didn't jump right to it. He carefully unhooked your bra and slid it down your shoulders so he could kiss the full expanse of your back. "You're so fucking soft," he whispered. His lips and mustache left your skin extra sensitive as he sucked along the back of your neck until you were moaning his name. "That sounds so pretty." Then you felt his hands rough against your ass and your thighs before he made himself at home, lapping at your pussy from behind. You knew you were still wet, and he used your slick to coat up your asshole with his tongue, big hands gripping you.

"Does that feel good?" he asked, and you groaned a garbled answer letting him know that yes, it did. "Want me to keep going?"

You could feel his finger at your opening, and you whimpered. "As long as you use the lube."

He did, and he worked at you for a while, never rushing you to the next stage before you were comfortable. His fingers were thick, but you knew how big his cock was, and you balled your fists up in the sheets and got onto your knees when you were ready for him.

The stretch felt good. Bradley's body behind yours was like a dream, and his voice in your ear as he pushed himself incrementally deeper made you relax. "Jesus Christ," he rasped. "My god, Sweetheart. Oh, fuck." His lips were on your shoulder, and then his face was tucked against your neck as he whined softly, chest heaving against your back. You felt almost too full as his hips met your ass. "Am I hurting you?"

When you wiggled in response, Bradley's nose dug into the side of your neck, a string of expletives flowing from his lips. "It feels almost good," you promised. "Like I couldn't be more full."

"If I move, I'll cum," he groaned. "But I really, really fucking want to move."

You rolled your hips against him, and it didn't hurt, but now his forearms were shaking, and his knuckles were white, and you knew how hard he was trying to keep himself still. "You can thrust slowly."

He did. He gave you three long, languid thrusts where you felt every bit of him, and then you knew by the sounds he was making that he was almost there. One more wiggle from you, and he was up on his knees with his hands gripping your hips, filling your ass with his cum.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he crooned, withdrawing himself inch by inch until you heard him say, "that's so goddamn pretty." His fingers were smoothing along your pussy up to where you could feel the mess he made on your skin. "What a perfect ass."

Then he was a fatigued mess, sprawled out on his back on the bed, pulling you closer to him. "Happy birthday," you whispered, and he looked up at you with pink cheeks and wide eyes.

"I am so spoiled by my wife."

"You are, Roo. It's insane."

---------------------------------

After a quick trip to the nursery to change Rose into a sleeper, Bradley coaxed you into the shower with him where he took the time to clean both of you up. "It's almost midnight, Daddy. Did you enjoy your day?"

"You know I did. It was absolutely perfect."

"There's cake for you in the kitchen."

He narrowed his eyes. "Are you still talking about your ass, or..."

"Actual cake," you told him with a laugh. "I baked it the other day and then hid it." He honestly didn't know how he deserved to be treated this well, but he always tried his best to do the same for you. He was too in love not to.

You definitely seemed to be less self conscious now as he ran his hand down your belly before using it to give you a soft smack on the ass. "I would love to have any and all of your various types of cake." He leaned down to kiss the tops of your breasts. "Rosie will probably wake up soon wanting to eat. That's literally the only thing holding me back from going to town on these bad boys."

Your laughter filled the room. "I think you've just about reached your treat limit for the day. But the cake in the kitchen is lemon."

"My favorite," he whispered, kissing your lips. "You're the best."

Once you were both towel dried and dressed for bed, Bradley scooped you up and carried you into the kitchen. "A year ago, I was fucking a baby into you."

"You fucked a baby into me, and you fucked up my car beyond repair. That was a big night for you, Bradley." When he set you down on the counter, you yelped.

"What?" he asked as you cling onto him instead.

"My asshole is sore," you whispered, eyes wide.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

You smiled which made him smile. "I just wasn't expecting it," you said with a laugh as you slid down his body until you were standing. "It's not terrible. Kind of a nice reminder of your birthday present." You reached for the lemon cake which had apparently been hiding with the pots and pans for days when you gasped. "I forgot! I got you another present."

Bradley watched you run into the spare room at the bottom of the stairs, and a moment later, you returned with a gift wrapped in red paper with a silver bow on it.

"Before you open it, please remember that you did ask for this."

Curiosity got the best of him. The day was already too good to be true, but when he tore into the paper, he knew what it was almost immediately. "Another sexy calendar," he moaned, and then his eyes bugged out. "A pregnant, sexy calendar."

"That's what you wanted," you repeated when he looked at you. "I had the photographer take them before you met me at the beach for maternity photos."

He absolutely did remember asking for it, but he couldn't believe you actually did it for him. January was a photo of you in your red bikini, pregnant with Rosie, hand resting on your belly. February was you wearing some kind of flowy dress that left nothing to the imagination. March was you in your unbuttoned jean shorts with your hands over your breasts, adorable bump front and center. April had you in a top with your tits practically spilling out of it.

"Incredible," he murmured, mesmerized by May where you were playing in the water in a wet, white tee shirt.

"You like it?" you asked as you sliced up some birthday cake.

"It's fantastic," he groaned when he got to June. It was a close up of your face and tits in that same wet shirt. "Holy hell." You were holding out a forkful of cake to him. "Are you going to make me a sexy calendar every year for my birthday?" he asked before taking the bite which melted on his tongue.

"Only if you're very well behaved. Those things require me to muster up every fiber of my courage, and I swear the photographer works some sort of magic to make me look so good."

"You always look that good, Sweetheart. If you check the photo gallery in my phone, you look just as hot in every photo in there as you do in the calendar pictures. You look that good right now. And you looked that good at the hot sauce restaurant. And you looked that good with my cock in your ass an hour ago."

Once again, he had you preening before him as you fed him more cake. "If you insist, Roo."

"I insist. I look at you more than anyone else does. I've got to be some sort of expert." He took another bite from the fork. "This is incredible. Thank you for everything today." He propped his new calendar up against the backsplash, open to June. 

"Just make sure you put that away before my parents get here on Sunday," you said, tossing the fork into the sink and wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Right," he replied. You had him so excited about Father's Day and his birthday, he almost forgot they were flying in. "I'll put it out with all my workout gear tomorrow," he promised. "And you better start packing for La Jolla."

"I'll just throw some stuff in a bag before we leave on Thursday," you told him with a shrug.

"But I want you to make sure you pack all of your sexiest outfits. You always look good no matter what, but I love peeling that stuff off you."

You buried your face against his chest and whispered, "Okay." He could tell you were smiling just as Rose started crying.

"Midnight. On the dot," Bradley groaned, leading you backwards through the kitchen. "That kid is punctual."

You leaned up and kissed him, "I love you, birthday boy."

"I love you, too," he said over the sound of his daughter wailing to be fed. His past three birthdays were each more exciting than the last. He had no idea what else could be in store for him, but he wanted all of it.

---------------------------

On Sunday, you sat down very gingerly to enjoy brunch with Maria and Cam. You were still sore from Friday, and then last night, Bradley spanked you for being sassy. It wasn't entirely your fault you accidentally called him Daddy while you were FaceTiming your parents. He was using his commanding voice, going over the schedule for the upcoming week. You didn't think your parents even heard you say it, but you happily accepted your 'punishment' in the form of Bradley's hand on your ass and his cock in your pussy as soon as the call was over.

"Your parents are coming out today?" Cam asked, snapping your attention back to the last bit of your avocado toast and mimosa.

"Yeah. They're staying with Rose for a few nights while Bradley and I drive up to La Jolla. I won't be at work on Thursday."

"Bob and I are going away for Independence Day, too," Maria said dreamily. "He's taking me to Santa Barbara."

"Fuck you both," Cam grumbled, biting into some cinnamon toast. He chewed obnoxiously as he said, "I wish I had a hot aviator. I'll just be at home alone, watching Marvel shows and trying to feel something."

"I'll send you a postcard," you told him, giving him a loud kiss on the cheek.

"How's Rose?" Maria asked, ignoring Cam's comments completely. 

"Adorable," you sighed. "You'll get to see her when Bradley picks me up to head to the airport." 

No sooner did you mention your husband and daughter, and then they appeared. 

"Hey," Bradley greeted your friends, leaning down to kiss you with Rose in his arms. He was wearing his aviators low on his nose, and he looked so good.

"Hi," Cam mumbled, and you could tell how badly he wanted to call your husband Lieutenant Commander Mustache. Maria on the other hand popped out of her seat to get to the baby.

"She got big," she said, scooping her out of Bradley's arms. "Such a big girl now."

Bradley eyed you over his sunglasses, and his smirk reminded you of last night. "We need to leave soon. They land in less than an hour."

"It's my turn to pay anyway," you said, digging in your wallet for some cash before Bradley handed you his credit card.

"I really hate you at times," Cam murmured, and you had to stifle your laughter.

"I only have love in my heart for you."

He rolled his eyes, but both of you were stifling your laughter now as Maria continued to bounce around with Rose. Eventually you signed the slip and handed it back to Bradley along with his credit card. "I'll see you both at work tomorrow," you promised, picking up your bag as Bradley took Rose back from Maria.

When you walked out of the restaurant, you saw several heads turn in your direction as women stared. "Everyone is looking at the DILF," you whispered.

"Where?" Bradley asked in confusion, looking around with his brow furrowed. 

"I'm referring to you," you replied with a laugh as you walked out toward the red Bronco. He rolled his eyes but put a firm hand on your waist.

"Hang on. I want to buckle you in after I put her in her car seat."

So you waited until he was ready before climbing in the passenger seat, and then he pulled the seatbelt across your body before giving you a kiss. "Thanks, Roo."

He kissed your lips and the tip of your nose. "Let's get to the airport. Last time, their flight was early."

It was smooth sailing down the highway, and Rose was asleep by the time the Bronco was parked in the garage where she was conceived. Of course Bradley made a comment about it as he very carefully scooped her up again.

"Do you want to use the stroller?" you asked, but he immediately shook his head.

"I like carrying her like this."

"I know you do," you said, heart melting as you watched him kiss the top of her head. "I just thought I'd ask."

He carried her with both hands, and you tucked your arm around his waist as you headed inside and looked for their baggage carousel number. "This way," he rasped, and you followed him to the far end of the area. You snuggled in against him while you waited, and Bradley kissed the top of your head this time. "I cannot wait to get you in that fancy hotel room and have you all to myself."

You tilted your face up toward his and kissed the corner of his mustache. "Just so you know, my asshole still hurts."

"Fuck, Baby Girl," he grunted. "You always do this to me. You always say or do something to get me all stirred up right before your parents arrive."

You were about to tell him you had no idea what he was talking about, but you heard your mom calling your name. And when you turned, she was rushing toward you with your dad in her wake. "There they are! Oh, and look how sweet Rose looks!"

Bradley glared down at you, and you bit your lip and smiled up at him. "I'll make it up to you in La Jolla."

------------------------------

Happy birthday, DILF Roo. If you have an idea for something BG can do in La Jolla to "make it up to him", I would love to hear it. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 25

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@furiousladyking

@godsfavoritebabe

@bethabear12

@halo-mystic

@sherlockstrangewolf

@theamuz

@khaylin27

[whateverloomis]

"Scream" (1996) meets "X" || Billy Loomis x Stu Macher x GN!AFAB reader 🔪🔞

PART 2

A/N: I got this idea while re-watching "X" last week and I couldn't help but imagine the Scream (1996) characters combined with the movie. I had also been thinking what it would be like for Billy to fuck with Tatum so... Muahaha, here it is hoes. There will definitely be a part 2 for this because it would've been hella long if I had posted all of it. Plus, I like to do cliffhangers ;) Enjoy babes <33

Warnings: Voyeurism, mentions of cheating, making out, p in v, AFAB reader (no use of pronouns,) implied size difference, threatening, lots of teasing, poly!Ghostface, reader has pre-determined interests and outfits, Sidney is not in the story (sorry not sorry,) || Not edited

Word count: 2.8k

•

"Sidney doesn't know about it and she doesn't have to, simple," Billy told you while you picked some snacks from the gas station. "Besides, you're what's important here. You're the star," Stu continued, grabbing the items from your hands and walking towards the register to pay for everything.

"I mean, it's not like I care bu-" - "Then stop acting like you do," Billy interrupted and hugged you from behind, his hands squeezing your waist. You bit your bottom lip and smiled, feeling him nip at your neck softly. "Plus, after I fuck you in front of that camera you won't even remember your own name," he whispered in your ear and you craned your neck to kiss him, tongue brushing his bottom lip immediately.

"Ah ah ah, save it for the camera, kids," Stu said while walking towards you. He grabbed your face and kissed your cheek before walking out of the mini market. "Let's go babes, we have a long drive ahead of us!"

•

The car ride was chaotic. Stu and Tatum were making out and moaning in the back of the van while Billy sat across from them, occasionally closing his eyes to drown out the sound of the squeaky back door and his horny friends.

You were completely zoned out, looking outside at the corn field that seemed endless. You couldn't believe you were finally going to film a movie and become a star. Stu promised as much, and all his words of praise and promise excited you more every single time.

Randy was driving while singing along to a tune you didn't recognize and arguing with Tatum from time to time about how she should have some dignity and not suck her boyfriend's face in front of everyone.

He had always wanted his first film to be an artistic porno movie. It was going to be revolutionary, he said. Shown in every theater and be the number one best porn film with an actual good plot. It was everyone's big break.

Billy was in it for the money, not the fame. He didn't care if his face was recognized by any means, but if he got to fuck you and get paid for it?, he wasn't going to say no, and he didn't. You guys have been sneaking around for a while anyways, it was a matter of time before Sidney found out, so he didn't care. Not only that, but Billy supported you. He knew you had potential. He saw it, and this film? This movie was sure to raise you to fame. With those sweet moans of yours and gorgeous body. Those pretty little faces you make when he fucks you stupid. You were it.

"The fuck are you looking at?" Tatum bitched at Billy. He didn't answer her, instead he just kept staring at her, heavy eyes threatening to close once again. He smirked in amusement, Billy got a kick of bothering Tatum while doing the bare minimum.

"Fuck are you bitching at? I'm not looking at anything," he replied, rolling his eyes.

"You were looking at my tits," the blonde answered with an attitude and Billy let out a breathy laugh. "It's not my fault Stu has them out on full display for everyone to look at," he said and Stu laughed along with his friend.

Tatum rolled her eyes and adjusted her dress up her chest. "Awhh, c'mon babe don't be like that-" - "Shut up! I can't believe you want me to fuck him," the girl said and you giggled, looking back at her; "You won't regret it, trust me," you said and Stu stuck his tongue out; "Thaaat's the spirit, see Tate?" - "Ugh, I'm taking a nap," she said before laying down on the carpeted floor, legs over Stu's lap.

•

After nearly a 6 hour drive you finally arrived at the old ranch where you guys were going to be staying at for a few days.

As you and the group were unloading your belongings from the van, Stu walked up to the house to talk to the owner and announce your arrival.

"I told you we were coming in today pops, relax," you overheard Stu say, nervousness lacing his voice. You looked at Billy to see if he caught on to the situation and saw he was already pulling his gun out from the back of his jeans. You gasped and ran towards him, placing your hand over his to stop him from pulling the weapon all the way out.

"Don't," you whispered and gave him a worried look. He poked the inside of his left cheek with his tongue in annoyance before sliding the gun back down inside his pants and you visibly relaxed.

"You didn't tell me there were gonna be so many people!," the old man said and Stu laughed nervously; "I know I know but listen, I've got some extra," Stu paused his words and pulled out a $100 bill out of his front pocket. "There's more where that came from if y-" - "I don't need your money!," the old man interrupted and pointed a shutgun at Stu's chest. Billy reached for his weapon once again, this time not hesitating; "You better back off or el-" - "Or else what?! You kids are getting yourselves kicked out of my property if you keep-" - "LET'S, all... Calm down, yeah?," Stu said, signaling Billy to put his weapon away and smiling nervously at the old man. "Look, we need this, okay? We drove all the way over here so give us one night at least?," he reasoned, and the owner glared at everyone. "One. Then you're out of here," the old man agreed and walked past Stu, making his way down to the small wooden house all the way across the field.

You closed your eyes and sighed, giving Billy a side eye before picking up your bags and following the owner with the rest of the group.

The small wooden cabin was perfect to accommodate everyone, and had a view of the lake that was not far from it. You sat on the couch in the small living room area with Randy and Tatum. Billy and Stu stayed behind talking to the old man but you couldn't make out a single word.

"That old fuck is gonna kill us, we shouldn't stay here." Randy said, fear lacing his words.

"Randy, you know Stu is not leaving until we film this." Tatum said, defeat and annoyance written on her face. "How the hell are we filming this in one day? That's impossibl-" - "Look, I'm sure Billy and Stu are coming to terms with the owner okay? Relax." You interrupted, but you were talking to yourself more than him.

Billy had little patience for people like the owner of the farm and he was definitely going to pull that trigger without hesitation.

You were nervous. You knew he had fired that weapon before. Billy didn't like to talk about it, but you knew what he was capable of.

"Alright! We negotiated and pops played nice. We're staying the whole week like we originally planned!" Stu announced and everyone cheered except for you and Billy. You had a feeling it wasn't so easy to get the old man to give in so quickly after his aggressive behavior.

-

"Did you threaten him?" You asked. You guys were getting settled in your room and the quietness of Billy was putting you off.

"Threaten who?" Billy asked, turning around from his position in front of the window. He had been keeping an eye on the owners house for God knows how long.

"The owner. Why'd he change his mind all of a sudden?" You continued and Billy looked at you seriously a few seconds before leaning against the edge of the window and smiling softly.

"Don't worry about that old rag, we just negotiated, that's all." Billy replied and you sighed softly. "Hey, c'mon now. Everything's fine. Nothing's gonna happen to you, okay? Not while I'm here." He continued and sat next to you on the bed. You looked at him in doubt and he gave you those puppy dog eyes that drove you crazy. "C'mere" he said while patting his lap. You crawled over the bed and straddled him, the boy placing his hands on your hips instantly. "This is your moment. Your big break, I'm not gonna let that old fuck ruin it for you." He said and kissed you softly. His lips molding against yours perfectly. You relaxed against him and placed your forehead against his. "I trust you." You whispered and Billy kissed you again, this time prolonging it. You moaned softly against his lips and felt him grow hard under you. On instinct, you started to grind against his clothed cock and pull his hair, making him groan.

You gently pushed his chest to lay down on the bed. The kiss getting more heated by the second.

Billy started to run his hands under your tank top and pulled it up, exposing your tits before stopping at the sound of the door opening.

"I knew I heard freaky noises." Stu said, leaning against the door frame.

Billy sat up and placed you on the bed next to him before turning around and glaring at his friend. "Fuck off, will you? Not now." - "Awhh c'mon! Tatum just went to bed."

You couldn't help but chuckle at Stu's clear intentions. Ever since you let him join you and Billy during sex once he's been trying to get another chance, but never succeeded since then.

You grinned at both boys and walked over to Stu. You got up on your tippy toes and placed a single, slow kiss on his lips before running your hand down his chest. "You heard the man, not now." You whispered and Stu sighed in defeat. "Fuck, fine... God, you're so hot." He said and Billy smirked at the sight. He couldn't help but find it incredibly hot when you used that sexy manipulative attitude on others.

Stu walked away and you closed the door quietly, before locking it and turning around to face Billy; "Where were we?"

-

The bright sun woke you up. The sky was almost crystal clear and a beautiful pale blue. Billy was already up since Stu wanted to start filming early, and you definitely didn't want to miss it, so you got out of bed and brushed your teeth, overall freshening up to go into the next room and see if you were lucky to catch them before the camera was rolling.

You didn't bother to change your clothes or cover up. You were comfortable enough to walk around in your black thong and thin white crop top that exposed your pebbled nipples in a rather subtle, nearly classy way.

When you approached the room next door and opened it they hadn't started the filming process and you bit your lip in excitement. You really wanted to see what Billy had in store, plus Tatum is hot as fuck and you knew they'd look incredible together.

"Just in time babe, we're about to start." Stu said and Randy looked at you with a rather unamused face. He wasn't exactly too into the whole idea considering he was filming Billy cheating on his forever crush, Sidney, but he was promised thousands just by standing there with a mic so he wasn't going to say no. Plus, maybe he could get some action himself and finally lose his virginity. Randy took the bait anyways.

"Do we really have to do this?" Tatum asked Stu, rolling her eyes. She was sitting on Billy's lap facing him, wearing a short sundress without panties on. Billy had his legs bent up slightly, cupping her ass and providing steadiness while he took a puff of the joint they had all been sharing.

"Babe c'mon! It'll be quick, trust me!" Stu said, camera in hand.

"The fuck are you saying? That I won't last long like your sorry ass?" Billy said, annoyed at Stu's implication.

"With that pussy? You won't last three seco-" - "I'm literally right here, asshole!" Tatum said and threw a pillow at her boyfriend. Stu laughed and threw the pillow to the side.

"C'mon, don't be pussies and get it over with!" He said and Tatum sighed. "Okay, whatever." The girl rolled her eyes before grabbing the blunt from Billy's hands and taking a drag. She exhaled slowly and started to rub Billy over his jeans. He looked at her hands working on him and couldn't help but grow hard at the sensation.

Tatum unbuttoned his jeans just enough for his cock to spring free and she lifted her dress up slightly, rubbing her cunt over his length to lubricate both of them with her slick.

Billy's breathing picked up at her movements. Even if he didn't want to do this he couldn't deny that she felt good against him.

Grabbing her hips, he positioned her right over the tip of his cock and she sat on his length slowly, swallowing every inch inside her tight pussy. Billy released a hiss at the feeling of her cunt wrapping around him. Stu was right, he wasn't going to last long with how wet and snug her little pussy was.

"Now ride him and do your best show for me baby" Stu whispered and she started to move.

Jumping up and down on Billy's cock she moaned pornographically. "Yes! Fuck yes! Pleaseeee" She said and Billy held her hips tighter, releasing inevitable grunts. He couldn't lie to himself, her tits bouncing right in front of his face looked way too good for him to deny it.

"Fuck" He whispered and started to thrust up, practically using Tatum in order to get off quickly. The blonde moaned loudly, this time it was legit. Billy's cock felt good as he fucked her from below and she could feel him growing bigger inside her, signaling he was going to cum any second.

They both couldn't help but moan in unison. Sex is sex, and it didn't matter to them at that point, they were only focusing on the pleasure.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum..." Billy said softly and Tatum continued her show for the camera, however she also wanted to rile Billy up just a bit before finishing. She was having fun. "Ahh yes, cum inside me pleaseee" Tatum practically screamed and that did it for him. Billy exploded inside of Tatum and rode his high quickly before pulling out and throwing his head back on the pillow.

Tatum collapsed next to him, cum dripping out of her puffy pussy. Stu pointed the camera between her legs to get a good shot at Billy's seed spilling out of her before stopping.

"Man, that was kinda hot." - "Shut up asshole." Billy said rolling his eyes before taking another drag from the blunt that was on the ashtray next to the bed.

"Oh my Gosh you guys looked so good." You said while looking at the footage in Stu's camera. You could feel yourself growing wet at the sight of Billy and Tatum fucking.

You took a glance at Billy and he was smirking at you. He couldn't wait to get his hands on you next inside the barn and fuck you raw until you came around his thick cock.

You noticed Randy shifting rather uncomfortably and laughed softly. He was hard and having problems hiding it.

"You good, Randy? Looks like you enjoyed the show." You said teasingly and he blushed, excusing himself.

Stu stuck his tongue out and chuckled at his friend getting hard because of the scene that was filmed. "This is gonna be so revolutionary guys, I can already taste the millions."

-

Before getting ready for dinner and discussing your big scene with Billy, you decided to go for a swim in the lake.

The sunset was approaching and the rays of light were glistening over the water. The wind created little ripples that made it look deliciously refreshing.

You decided to skinny dip since the area was alone, but you didn't really care if anyone saw you.

As you were taking your panties off, you noticed the string of slick that connected the fabric to your cunt. You moaned as you felt the cool air brush against your skin and couldn't help but run your fingers between your legs.

"Fuck..." you whispered to yourself, and trailed your hand up your body to spread your wetness over your pebbled nipples.

You thought about how your scene with Billy would be like. The rush of excitement ran over your body and you started to swing your hips while playing with your tits out in the open.

You chuckled to yourself and were spinning slowly until you were met with Billy's gaze. He was standing on the other edge of the small boardwalk, enjoying the view.

"Mind if I join you?" He said teasingly while walking towards you. You bit your lip and looked at his bulge shamelessly.

"Not at all." You answered and he placed his hands over your waist, squeezing the flesh. "You look so fucking good all alone out here. Naked. Vulnerable." Billy whispered and you couldn't help but release a little whimper.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good for the camera tomorrow."

[moralesluvr]

FABLE AND TRUTH 5 | billie eilish

୧ ‧₊˚ love was the law & religion was taught…. ↳ summary: you had always been raised on being poise, feminine, classy. but what was most important to your family was your religion— and it had embroidered itself into your daily life. but when it’s time to pick between feelings and faith, which will you choose? pairings & aus. billie eilish x fem!reader warnings. religious backgrounds & guilt | mature language | sexual content | substance use author's note. CHAP 5 IS HERE! i'm so sorry my loves i'm kind of a bot and didn't upload for 2 weeks....lol...anyways hi here it is wc. 9.1k

“what’s going on, y/n?”

you’re fighting tears as you look for words, but nothing but chopped stutters pass through your lips. you’re too stunned to speak, and you honestly can’t even comprehend what just happened. 

you had kissed billie. it was a complete mistake, but that was a comfort to no one. especially not you. 

“hello? i’m getting a little worried now.” 

your breath hitches as you stumble over your words, pressing the phone tighter to your ear as if the closeness could somehow keep you grounded. you finally spot the words out, “i messed up.”

“huh?” oliver clears his throat, “you…what? what happened? are you okay? 

you choke, your voice cracking under the weight of your panic as you sink into a bench, not far from where you started, “ollie i…i really, really messed up.”

“i’m lost. what’s going on?” he asks, his tone softening as he registers the distress in your voice. you can tell he’s a little worried too, and you didn’t mean to spread the fear to him, but it’s too late for that. 

“where are you? do you need me to come get you?”

you pause, glancing around the dimly lit street you’ve been pacing down since storming out of billie’s car. she’s gone now— she left a couple minutes ago, and part of you is upset that she just caved in on you that easily. but she probably has her own emotions to deal with, and she didn’t want to impose them on you, so she just ran. 

just like you did. 

your blood is practically hot with anger towards yourself, forwards her— any possible direction that you could aim your emotions at, you did. she knew that you were feeling confused, and you knew that you weren’t in the headspace to be making any decisions as rash as that one was. you were aching and empty inside, any sliver of sentiment you had poured itself out through your tears. 

you were so very lost. everything you stood for, and everything you were against, it all seemed like blurred lines now. you had to admit, though, you wanted to kiss her. and it didn’t feel wrong when you did it, but it really was the aftermath. 

the feeling of shame that washed over you when the kiss broke was almost unearthly. you felt like you had committed the ultimate sin, and you were sure there was no coming back from this. there was no compensation, no do-overs, just you, billie, and the thick feeling of regret hanging loosely in the air, dangling over your head. 

a little part of you wish you were still in her car, your lips smashed into hers, her hands roaming in your hair and your heart pumping out of your chest. but it was all an adrenaline rush, the fun in knowing that you’re doing something wrong, but it feels so right. but you didn’t live by what felt right, you lived by what was right.

by law, by an obligation— a duty to serve the one who put breath in your lungs, the very lungs that heaved and shook as you cried your heart out to oliver, no words being said. you were at a loss for them, there was nothing you could say or do or words to describe to convey a fourth of what you felt in the moment.  

billie was hurting, too, you were sure of it. all this time that you had spent innocently flirting, hanging out, confiding in her— it was all wasted now, and you were back to square one. she was confused, you kiss her and then you leave? what was she supposed to do with that?

but it wasn’t your fault. you couldn’t. you couldn’t allow yourself to be caught up in fleeting feelings and a stupid crush, you had bigger things to worry about, a faith to nurture and feed, friendships to grow, a degree to catch. you had a long life ahead of you, and success was at the center— and you were sure she couldn’t be a part of it.

oliver facetimes you when he doesn’t hear you answer through the phone. he needed to know you were at least alive, so when the phone connected, he returned back to his normal, calm state. he watched as you wiped your eyes and your hands shook over your open mouth, almost preparing to say something, but all that came out was broken sobs. 

“it’s okay,” he whispered, though he knew it wasn’t, but that was the best he could do. “i’m here. i’m ready when you are, take your time.” 

you sniffle harshly, your nose running as you try to take the deepest breath you can to steady yourself. you look around the parking lot— its dark now, empty, only a few cars parked at the rage room and a liquor store that’s two buildings down. 

your eyes squint at it, the blue fluorescent lights suddenly appealing to you. all you’ve ever had to drink was a glass of wine, and it was your last resort of them all, but it seemed like an idea that would keep your feelings at bay. 

so you get up, and you walk. 

you’re almost sure you’re not even conscious, because there’s no way you’d ever do this. ever. you’d never intentionally walk to any place that serves alcohol in the middle of the night, much less a store that sells it exclusively. 

but you really don’t have any other options. 

you could pray, but it seems foreign to you. it feels like God’s turned His back on you, like He’s asleep and you’re trying to jerk Him awake, but His listening is selective. it’s like you’re on the outside, like you’ve slipped out of His hands, and it killed you on the inside. 

you felt conflicted. tense, but loose internally. your mind was thinking of things you’d even begin to think of, ready to commit actions that even you weren’t all that prepared for. but you kept walking. 

it feels like forever until you finally reach the doors of the liquor store. your legs are worn, feet bruising, and the cut on your hand seems to pulse exponentially worse as time goes on. you wince, and oliver’s eyebrow raises through the phone. you honestly forgot he was on FaceTime due to his silence, but it seemed like he was just simply waiting for you to speak when you were ready. 

you shoved your phone into your pocket and approached the door, the fluorescent blue lights buzzing faintly as you pushed open the door open a small bell jingling overhead to make your presence known. the air inside is cool, tinged with the smell of alcohol and old wood. shelves of bottles line the walls, the glass catching the light in a way that makes everything feel hazy, like you’ve stepped into a foreign area.

and you had, truly. you’d never been a liquor store before, because usually, it’d never really interest you. but you were caught up, feeling things you had never felt before, and it was like you were acting before you could think. 

you hated that your curiosity was what pushed you through the door and up to the bar area, where your swollen eyes scanned different bottles that were stooped against the wall. you almost walk out, but you’re here now, so you might as well get something. 

the only alcohol you’ve ever had is a glass of wine at christmas back home when you turned 21. it was alright, but it wasn’t something you really planned on doing that often— or, to be frank, ever again. 

but it intrigued you. why was everyone else so happy and loose when they drank. forgetful, dainty, fearless? 

you wanted to feel like that too, right about now— you longed for it, you craved it. so you sucked it up, your normal way of going about things far in the back of your mind as your feet carry you to the front. a young woman stands there with a warm smile, with so many tattoos that there’s more ink than skin. she greets you, “hey there. you must be sunday school,” and then she snickers, “can i help you with anything?” 

the words hit you like a slap to the face, the nickname pulling you out of your mind fog for just a moment. your heart stumbles, your mind catching on the phrase— it’s something billie calls you all the time, usually with a teasing grin or a playful nudge. but this woman doesn’t know you— how could she possibly know that? 

but you’re so focused on getting rid of this thick, uncomfortable haze that clouds your head, so you shake it off, ignoring the knot forming in your stomach. 

“just… looking,” you mumble, glancing away as your cheeks heat with embarrassment, “um…”

the bartender snorts. “sure you are. well, take your time. let me know if you need anything.” 

it’s radio silence after that. 

you’re really conflicted, to say the least. everything about you had been so prim and proper, so sophisticated— this didn’t feel like the real you at all. or, so you thought. 

sometimes, late at night, when your only company was your own thoughts, you’d ponder about what it would be like to switch lives with someone. anyone at all— but your mind always drifted to your best friends. 

maybe you could switch with emma, your hair traded for her long, red curls that matched her fiery personality. she really didn’t have a care in the world— she was blunt, honest, kind but straight-forward. she was smart, but very flexible. she didn’t have a set schedule for anything, that wasn’t really emma’s style. and you envied that. 

deep down, she was your best friend, but you wished you could steal some of the things that she embodied and keep them as your own. you wished you could just let go and be who you really wanted to be, but that wasn’t what faith was about. that’s not what you were about. 

that came first, always. it wasn’t about what you desired, it was about unearthly things, about things that awaited you after you’d pass away. it was important to you, though sometimes, you felt like your true colors were dimmed out. diluted, watered down— but you had to keep composure. there was nothing you could do, because it was all you’d ever known, and it was all you’d ever be. 

or maybe you could be like naomi. her ability to express herself through her wild purple hair, her whimsical clothing, all her crazy piercings. she was carefree, but passionate and warm, and always had your back when you needed her to. 

and even jules. she was blunt, straight as an arrow, but her laugh was as warm as a california breeze. she was clean cut and undeniably beautiful, her long and silky black hair accenting her perfect and strong features. she was the epitome of beauty and class, yet she didn’t let anyone talk to her sideways. she stood up for what she believed in and never divvied from it. 

you shared that with her, kind of. it seemed like you had drifted away now, like you were falling and you couldn’t even catch yourself. 

“ma’am, are you going to order anything? or…”

you snap out of your thoughts and look back at the bartender, who’s impatiently tapping her nails against the hardwood countertops. you don’t know the first thing about alcohol, so you stupidly ask, “uhm…well, what’s good?” 

“depends,” she starts, leaning against the counter as her eyes darted to the back of her head to gesture towards the cases behind her, “vodka if you wanna get drunk. tastes a little like hand sanitizer, but it isn’t all that bad. it’ll be the easiest on you, i take it that you don’t do this whole drinking thing— so that’s the best start. just burns a little, but you’ll be alright.”

you hum to yourself. 

“uh… okay,” you mumble out, glancing uneasily at the rows of bottles behind her. they’re all bright labels and sharp shapes, promising you a world you’ve never stepped foot in. promising relaxation for your nerves, but all of this just seems intimidating. but you really can’t back out now— you’re here already, and you’d do just about anything to quiet your swirling mind. so you just nod, “alright.. i’ll take that, then. vodka.” you nod. 

the bartender smirks, a little too knowingly, and it makes you feel queasy.

“so, i figured you’d be a lightweight,” she mutters under her breath, pulling a clear, large bottle from the shelf and setting it on the counter, “you want it straight or mixed? might be easier on you if it’s mixed.”

“mixed, i guess?” you say, your voice unsure. you don’t even know what mixed means— you just don’t want to look like you don’t belong here. which, clearly, you don’t, but if you convince yourself enough, it’ll make you feel a little better. 

“you ever drink before?” she asks, grabbing a shaker and some other bottles, pouring them together without even looking at what she’s doing, she’s really just looking at you. 

she’s very pretty, and it doesn’t add to your nervousness, or the already disgusting feeling that you have practically glued to you. you’re trying so hard to forget about the kiss, but it’s just wreaking havoc on your brain. and all of a sudden, it’s like you were opened up to a whole new world— one that you didn’t necessarily feel all that comfortable in. but at the same time, it kept you reeled in, like you needed to figure out what all of this was. 

but you couldn’t. you had to stand firm. you had things to do, and priorities that couldn’t falter. billie could not and would not be a part of them in any circumstance. you just had to mask it all, slip this underneath the carpet and pretend it had never happened. 

“uh, sometimes,” you lie, but it sounds weak even to your own ears. you just didn’t want to seem like you didn’t belong. even though, deep down, you didn’t. 

or did you? 

the bartender gives you a look, one eyebrow raised, like she knows you’re full of shit. but she doesn’t call you out on it.

“if you say so,” she says, sliding the glass of vodka toward you, “here. start with this. it’s on the house, just for the entertainment purposes.” 

you take the glass hesitantly, the cold condensation chilling your fingers as they curl around it, your rings clanking against it, “thanks.” 

binging it to your lips, you take a swig, and your face immediately contorts sourly as you slam the glass back onto the counter. the first sip is sharp, burning, and you barely stop yourself from coughing as it slides down your throat.

the bartender watches you with a grin, “yeah, i thought so. don’t worry, kid— you’ll get used to it.”

you’re about to respond— though you don’t even know what you’d say— when movement in the corner of the room catches your eye. at first, you think it’s just another customer, roaming around somewhere, but then you see her.

billie. 

of course she’s here, by just your luck. she’s sitting at a small table near the back, a bottle of beer in one hand and her phone in the other. her head is down, her hair falling in loose waves around her face, but there’s no mistaking her. you know it’s her. you can feel it. 

your chest tightens, a mix of anger and something you can’t quite name bubbling up inside you. without thinking, you turn on your heel and march toward her, your footsteps heavy against the worn wooden floor.

“oh, hell no.” you hear her mutter as she stands up, her glass forgotten on the table. you can tell just by the way that she’s moving that she’s drunk, and for a second, you’re taken back to that night at the diner. heat is so prominent in your face that you feel like your head will blow off— and in moments, she’s in front of you, her expression a foreign mix of confusion and irritation.

“what the hell are you doing here?” billie asks you, her voice low but tense. 

you straighten up, trying to match her energy, but it’s hard when your nerves are shot, and you’re holding a drink you don’t even want. 

“none of your business,” you reply, but it comes out shakier than you intended, as always. 

“none of my—?” she cuts herself off, running a hand through her dark hair, clearly trying to keep her cool, “you don’t even drink, y/n. what the fuck are you doing in a place like this?”

“i don’t owe you an explanation,” you snap, the words coming out harsher than you expect, but it’s exactly what you wanted. it was exactly what you needed. 

she leans closer to you, though it doesn’t seem like it’s on purpose, her eyes narrowing, “you don’t, huh? after storming off and leaving me to wonder if you even were okay? you don’t think i deserve a little bit of an explanation for that shit?” 

“billie, i—” you start, but she cuts you off.

“no, you listen to me,” she says, her voice rising slightly at you, “you can’t just kiss me, run off like i’m some kind of mistake, and then show up here pretending like nothing happened.”

“billie…”

“i wish you’d stop acting like this, like you’re too scared to feel something, to be something, and just— i mean, y/n—”

“please, stop it—“ 

“really, why would you lead me on like this if you didn’t want me? why would you go out with me if—“

“billie, would you just shut the fuck up!” 

the words burst out of you before you can stop them, loud and sharp, and the entire room seems to go silent for a moment. you freeze, the weight of what you just said hitting you all at once, and your hands immediately slap over your mouth, terrified. you’ve never sworn like that before— never sworn at all, really, and now it’s hanging in the air between you and billie, heavy and suffocating.

her eyes widen in shock, and for a second, neither of you say anything. then, slowly, her lips curve into a small, incredulous smile, and it makes the anger in you only bubble worse. 

“wow,” she says softly, “didn’t know you had that in you.”

your jaw clenches as your hands drop from your mouth, your fingers curling into fists at your sides, “don’t start, billie. just don’t.”

she tilts her head, that stupid smile still tugging at the corners of her lips. it’s like she’s enjoying this, like watching you unravel is some kind of personal victory for her.

“what? i’m just saying, sunday school, you’re full of surprises tonight.”

“enough with the nicknames,” you snap, your voice shaking, but you don’t really care anymore. the dam has broken, and all the emotions you’ve been holding back are pouring out, spilling everywhere, and it’s pointless to try and keep it together when everything is seemingly falling apart, “you don’t get to call me that, billie. not after everything. gosh, i wish you would just leave me alone.” 

billie’s expression shifts, her smile dropping almost immediately. she cocks her head to the side, “after everything? what does that even mean?”

“it means you don’t know me. not really,” you say, your voice rising. at this point, the bartender and the other three people in the bar are all looking at you, but you pay them no mind. you needed to get this out.

“and the problem with you is that you think you do, but you don’t. at all. you just push me and push me, and you never stop to think about what i might be going through. you just… assume I’ll be okay with whatever you want. well i’m not. i don’t want you to know me, i don’t want you to ask if i’m okay, but god— most important of all,” you lower your head, your words slow and deliberate, “i don’t want you.” 

her brows knit together, and she steps closer, her voice dropping. she looks like she could almost cry, but that’s honestly the least of your worries right now. you were so infuriated at her, and the tears that slipped down her reddened cheeks didn’t even phase you. you had other things to worry about. 

“t-that’s not fair,” billie finally speaks, her voice cracking underneath the weight of this heated argument, and for a split second, you almost feel bad. “you don’t let anyone in. h-how am i supposed to know what you’re going through if you don’t talk to me?”

you take a deep breath, trying to contain yourself, “because it’s not your job to fix me, billie. i don’t need you to swoop in and save me all the time. maybe i just need space— have you ever thought about that? huh? have you?” 

she flinches like you’ve struck her, and for a moment, guilt twists in your stomach. but then she straightens, her jaw tightening as she meets your gaze, finally looking up from the floor.

“okay,” she says, her voice cold now, all the warmth vanishing as she shrugs gently, “if that’s what you want. i won’t speak to you ever again.” 

“good,” you snap, though the word tastes bitter in your mouth, and you almost regret it. 

was this really what you wanted? your heart was racing at the words, the reality sinking in. she wasn’t going to ever talk to you again— but that’s what you had begged her for, and now that she’s giving it to you, it’s almost like you had changed your mind. but it was too late for that. 

billie stares at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable as she shoves her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants. and then, without another word, she turns on her heel and walks away from you, leaving you standing there, idle, your anger dissipating as quickly as it came, replaced by an ache that settles deep in your chest.

you watch her go, the weight of what just happened pressing down on you like a weighted blanket. your shoulders slump, and for a moment, you think about calling after her, about saying something to fix this, but the words won’t come. your stomach feels sick and your head is hot, and you’re sure that you’re sinking into the floor as you hear the bells above the shop jingle, billie’s silhouette disappearing into the night. 

with tears brimming your eyes, you turn back to the counter, your hands trembling as you pick up your abandoned drink. the bartender glances at you, her expression a mix of curiosity and pity, but she doesn’t say anything. she just looks at you with an apologetic expression, her lips pursed as she tries to hold back from asking questions. 

you take a shaky breath and lift the glass of vodka to your lips, the burn of the alcohol doing little to dull the ache in your chest. you don’t know what you were expecting to find here tonight, but whatever it was, it feels further away than ever now.

the bartender finally speaks. “i’m so sorry, girl.” 

“it’s fine,” you mutter out, your nails scraping against your glass, your other hand busy picking at your lips. you’re engrossed in your own thoughts and the silence that consumes you, when you feel your phone vibrate. 

oliver. 

you had completely forgotten that he was on the other line, and you fish your phone out of your pocket hurriedly, your eyes being met with multiple texts and calls that you had missed from him. 

ollie: dude are you okay ??? i’m coming to get u now. 

ollie: my phone died so i didn’t hear everything but im omw. stay put. 

your chest tightens as you stare down at your phone, guilt gnawing at the edges of your already frayed nerves. you didn’t mean to worry him like that— but you can’t focus on that right now. or really, anything at all. 

all you can do is type out a quick response, your fingers trembling as they dance across the screen. you reassure him that you’re fine, and for him to do his best to get here quickly, because you were sure you were absolutely losing it. 

you look at the time, and it’s somehow already a little past midnight. your body is exhausted and your mind is racing in so many different areas, and you honestly just want to go home. 

you lock your phone and slide it back into your pocket, your hands still shaking as you cradle the empty glass in front of you. you slam it against the counter, “another.” 

“honey, i think—“

“just give me the alcohol.” you speak slowly yet sternly, and the bartender just nods, refilling your glass with straight vodka this time. you immediately drink it, the burn of it sitting heavy in your stomach, but it doesn’t do anything to warm you up, to fill the cold, hollow ache that’s settled deep in your chest.

you take another shot. and then two more, and you start to lose count. you felt trapped in your own mind, and usually, you weren’t really all that bothered by it. but after the kiss, after the blow-up in front of everyone, you were thinking and acting irrationally. you were absolutely over it— whatever consequences that were to come, you would deal with them later. but your thoughts only became louder and louder, swarming your conscience, and you would do pretty much anything to get them to disappear right about now. 

the bartender eventually refuses to serve you more shots. you’re much past tipsy now— and she can tell by the way a slow, warm grin crawls itself onto your face, and you smush your head into your hands, giggling. your skin is tingly and warm, and it’s foreign to you, but you like it. you can only think of one thing, and it’s how good you feel, and you want to wrap yourself in it and never let go. 

the bartender doesn’t push you any further about what happened, or how you’re feeling— she just nods and moves down the counter to give you space. the silence is deafening, broken only by the low hum of the bar’s music and the occasional clink of glasses. you stare down at your half-full drink, your reflection distorted in the clear liquid, and for a moment, you wonder if this is what absolute rock bottom feels like.

the sound of the bells above the door jingling pulls you out of your thoughts, and you glance up slowly, your nerves and slurred body movements not really allowing you to move much faster. your breath catches in your throat when you see him— oliver, standing in the doorway, his hair slightly disheveled, his chest heaving like he ran all the way here. his eyes scan the room quickly, landing on you, and you see the relief wash over his face as he strides toward you.

“Jesus, dude, you scared me. what the hell happened?” he asks as soon as he reaches you, his voice low but urgent.

you open your mouth to answer, but the words get stuck in your throat, and all you can do is shake your head as your eyes well up with tears again. you break in front of him, your facade faltering, and you just press your head into your palms as your body shivers with your cries. 

“oh…hey, it’s okay,” oliver says quickly, his hand reaching out to rest gently on your arm. he gives it a small, gentle squeeze, “let’s get out of here, yeah? come on. i’ll take you home.” 

you nod silently, letting him guide you off the barstool and out of the building. the night air hits you like a slap to the face, cold and sharp, and you pull your hoodie tighter around yourself as you follow oliver to his car.

the ride is quiet at first, the tension thick in the small space of his black mini cooper. oliver glances at you every now and then, his knuckles white as they grip the steering wheel, but he doesn’t say much. he’s waiting for you to speak, waiting for you to tell him what’s going on.

“i-i messed up,” you finally whisper, your voice cracking as you slump into the back seat, stretching out your limbs and resting your head against the window, “i messed up so bad, ollie.”

he doesn’t respond right away, just flicks his eyes toward you through the rear view mirror before focusing back on the road. 

“okay,” he says slowly, but you can tell he’s worried for what you’re about to tell him, “let’s start with what happened. whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. but you gotta tell me, okay? because i’m not gonna lie, you’re scaring the shit out of me.” 

you take a shaky breath, your fingers twisting in your lap as you try to find the words. your mind feels like it’s moving backwards, in slow motion, and you swear that you’re talking, but only your lips move. you rest a hand over your forehead, trying to force sound to come out, “i-i…kissed her.” 

“billie?” he asks, surprised, and you nod, your cheeks burning with shame.

“it just… it just happened,” you continue, the words spilling out of you now. people had always talked about having drunk confessions, and well, here was yours. 

“a-and then… we fought, and i s-said things— awful things, things i didn’t mean, but they just came out. and now she’s gone, and i-i don’t even know if we can fix this. i don’t know if i want to fix this.”

oliver is quiet for a moment, his brows furrowed in thought. his voice is slightly shaky now, and it’s obvious that he’s really worried about you. he peeks at you through the rear view again, “so… you kissed her— but then what? she got mad? or you got mad?” 

“both,” you say, your voice loud, though you meant to say that way quieter than you actually did, and then all the confessions come, “i was sad, r-really sad, and you guys…you guys always talk about how drinking makes you…i don’t know, n-not sad? so i took like— i can’t remember, six shots? and now i’m drunk. and me and billie got into an argument a-and i…i told her i didn’t want her. at all. i’m such an idiot.” 

oliver gasps, ready to say something, but you cut him off with your own words, “ollie…i don’t think i can do this anymore. i’m sick, i’m messed up…i-i’m not this perfect little angel that everyone thinks i am. i’m horrible and messy and…i just, i can’t anymore. really.” 

you feel oliver slam on the brakes, the car jerking slightly as he pulls over to the side of the road. the sudden stop shocks you out of your rambling, your chest heaving as you realize how out of control your words had become. your stomach felt like it was still in the other lane as you felt oliver park next to the street, and you cover your mouth, letting out an unprompted gag. 

oliver immediately unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to you, his eyes wide with concern, his hands gripping the steering wheel. 

“y/n. hey,” he says, his voice firm but still soft enough to remind you that it’s him, that you’re gonna be okay, “breathe. just breathe. it’s alright, you’re safe.”

you nod shakily, trying to pull in a deep breath, but it catches in your throat. your chest feels too tight, like there’s a rubber band around it pulling tighter and tighter with every second. you feel like you’re on the verge of snapping, so you keep quiet. your eyes slowly closing. 

“look at me,” he says, his voice steady, and you do. his eyes are locked on yours, grounding you, “you’re not horrible, okay? you’re not messy, you’re not broken, and you’re definitely not some perfect angel. you’re you, and that’s enough. it’s always been enough.”

you let out a choked laugh, shaking your head as tears spill over your cheeks. you wipe your nose, “no, but you don’t get it, ollie. you don’t know what it’s like to… to feel like you’re drowning all the time. to feel like no matter what you do, it’s never enough. for anyone. not even for me.” 

“i don’t know what that’s like?” he repeats, his voice raising slightly as he leans over the armrest, leaning further into you as your eyes hover over him, “you think i don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re not enough? like you’re just… just barely holding it together for everyone else’s sake? because i do. believe me, i do. i just…i don’t talk about it.” 

you blink at him, startled. he rarely lets this side of himself show, the side that’s as vulnerable as you feel right now. you whisper, “w-what do you mean?” 

“i’ve had my fair share of…bad religious experiences,” he continues, his voice breaking slightly. he really never opens up to anyone, but the timing seemed appropriate, and you didn’t really mind. 

“when i came out to my parents, it took them forever to be accepting. i wasn’t welcomed in my church anymore— though i believed, and i still do. but you don’t see me running away or… or drinking myself sick. because while it feels good, it doesn’t fix anything. it just makes it worse. and seeing you like this? it kills me, okay? because you’re not supposed to go through this alone. it hurts us when you isolate yourself.” 

“but i feel so alone,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you finally sit up in the seat, your head whirring, “even when you’re here, even when billie’s here, i feel alone. like no one really gets me. not even…not even God.”

oliver’s face softens, and he reaches out to take your hand in his, his grip warm and steady as you feel his fingers intertwine with yours, “yeah, i know it feels like that. like He’s not there, like no one is. and i love you, so don’t take this the wrong way— but you’re wrong. you’ve got people who adore you, who want to help you. i want to help you. but you’ve got to let me in, okay? you’ve got to stop shutting me out. out of all of us, i think i’m the one who won’t bully you sick about this.” 

you both giggle softly, and his words sink in slowly, the weight of them pressing against your chest in a way that feels almost comforting. you nod, barely able to meet his eyes as you release your hand from his embrace, playing with your rings, “but i don’t know how.” 

“you just start,” he says simply, shrugging like it was nothing, “you tell me when you’re sad. you tell me when you feel like you’re drowning. and then, you let me help you keep your head above water. that’s what i’m here for, okay? that’s what i want to do. because you’re my best friend.” 

his sincerity is overwhelming, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a flicker of hope. it’s small, fragile, but it’s there. 

“okay,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “okay, ollie. but i…i need you to do something for me.” 

he nods at you fervently, “yeah, anything. anything at all.” 

“i need you to help me get away from her,” you say, your voice steadier now, but still tinged with desperation, “i need you to… i need you to fake date me.”

there’s an excruciatingly long pause, this one heavier than any of the last. when oliver finally speaks, there’s a note of disbelief in his voice. he cocks his head to the side and gives you wide eyes, “hold on, you want me to what?”

“just for a little while,” you plead, your words tumbling out in a rush, “i need her to think i’ve moved on or— or that i’m not interested or something. i just need to put some space between us, and this…this is the only way i can think to do it. i just need her to leave me alone. please. while i figure things out.” 

“y/n,” he says slowly, like he’s trying to piece together the logic behind your plan, though you can tell by the look on his face that he thinks it’s stupid. “are you sure this is the best way to handle this? i mean, fake dating me? that’s… kind of extreme. and honestly, batshit crazy.” 

you shake your head at him. you’ll pretty much do anything to get away from billie right now, and this seemed like the only option. you’d much rather do this with oliver, someone you know and trust, rather than some random, icky dude in one of your classes. 

“i don’t have any other options, oliver, please. i just need you to do this for me. just for a little while. you’re the only person i can trust to help me with this.”

he sighs, and you can tell that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea, but he’ll roll with it just to help you out. he takes a good look at you, weighing your request. and finally, he speaks up, “a-all right. i’ll do it.” 

relief washes over you as you sit up even straighter, a lazy grin on your face as you nod at him.

“thank you,” you whisper, your voice thick with gratitude, “thank you so much.”

“yeah yeah, whatever.” he laughs gently, but his tone firm, “but— you’re going to have to tell me everything. the whole story. no leaving anything out. you need to at least tell me what’s going on if i’m going to be your new boyfriend.” 

you nod, “okay, yeah. um…i’ll tell you everything.”

“good,” he says, and then you start. 

well, you try to. but the car is too quiet, the only sound that’s audible is the low hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of oliver shifting in his seat. you sit there, staring out the window as cars flash by, headlights and flashing colors streaking the glass like a kaleidoscope. everything outside feels distant, unreal, like you’re a side character in your own movie. 

“you good?” oliver’s voice breaks through the silence, soft but firm. it’s not the first time he’s asked, but this time, there’s something heavier in his tone. you can tell he’s a little worried, and you really don’t want to stress him out, so you nod, though it’s everything but true. 

you shift uncomfortably, your hands twisting in your lap. you’re not good. you don’t even know what you are right now. all you know is that your chest feels tight, and the words sitting on your tongue are heavy, weighted down by years of fear and uncertainty.

“i told you what happened,” you mumble out, “why do you keep asking?”

“because i don’t think you’ve told me everything,” he says, glancing at you, “i mean, yeah, you told me about billie and the fight, but… there’s more, isn’t there? you wouldn’t be this upset if there wasn’t. so, let me hear it.” 

you swallow hard, your throat dry as you try to push the lump down. he’s right— of course, he’s right. oliver always sees through you, always knows when you’re holding back. you don’t know why you thought you could avoid this. 

“ollie,” you start, your voice trembling. you pause, unsure if you can even do this, but then his gaze flicks to you again, patient and steady, and it’s enough to nudge you forward, “i need to tell you something. something… kind of big.”

he straightens a little in his seat, his brows furrowing in concern. he’s kind of scared, because based off of the events of tonight, he has no idea what you would have in store. but he just nods, trying to keep enough cool for the two of you, “okay. i’m listening.”

your hands are shaking now, and you clasp them tightly together, trying to keep yourself steady. you take a deep breath, “okay…um…i’ve been trying to figure this out for a long time, and honestly, i’ve been scared to say it out loud. so…um…i’m—?”

he doesn’t say anything, just waits, his expression soft but focused. he’s looking at you like he’s ready to hear what’s next, and you swallow thickly, looking out the window, and then at your hands. 

“i-i’m a lesbian, oliver.”

it goes awkwardly quiet. for a moment, the only sound is your own breathing, shaky and uneven, as the weight of your confession hangs in the air. you kind of feel like you shouldn’t have said it, but it’s too late— so you just wait impatiently for him to speak. 

“oh,” oliver says finally, his voice quiet, like he’s processing. and then, a little louder, “oh. well, okay.”

you glance at him, your stomach twisting with anxiety. what the hell did he mean ‘well, okay?’ was this a bad idea? should you have kept it quiet? 

“ollie…w-what? just okay?”

“yeah,” he says, and there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth now. he leans up against the arm rest to get a good look at you, “okay. i mean, what do you want me to say? ‘oh shit, i never knew!’ like, it’s not like this changes how i feel about you or anything. you’re still you, y/n.”

his words hit you like a wave, but you can’t help but offer up a hearty laugh, even though there are tears streaming down your heated face. oliver disregards your laughter, though— he’s more worried about your ever flowing tears that haven’t seemed to fade since he picked you up. 

“hey, hey,” oliver says quickly, his hands hovering awkwardly like he wants to comfort you but he doesn’t know how, “why are you crying? what’s wrong?”

“nothing’s wrong,” you manage to get out between shaky breaths, “i just… i’ve been so scared to tell anyone. i thought maybe you’d… i don’t know, look at me differently or something. i don’t even know why i thought that, considering— yeah. but…”

“girl,” he interrupts gently, laughter laced in his tone, “i really don’t care who you like. as long as they’re treating you good, that isn’t my concern at all. you’re still my best friend, and that’s never gonna change. you hear me?”

you nod, sniffling as you wipe at your face. “yeah. i hear you.”

he smiles, soft and reassuring. “good. now, is there anything else you need to get off your chest? because i’m already pulled over, so we might as well make this a full therapy session.” 

you laugh weakly, the sound broken but genuine, and shake your head, “no, that’s… that’s it for now. promise.” 

“all right,” oliver says, “so, let’s get you home, yeah? you’ve had a long night.”

you nod at him, returning to the refuge of your comfy spot in the backseat, your limbs stretched out and weary as you steady your breathing. 

as he pulls back onto the road, you lean back in your seat, the weight on your chest a little lighter now. for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel like you can breathe, like everything is setting in stone. 

୨ৎ

by the time you get home, the weight of the night feels like it’s pressing into your bones, leaving you heavy and raw. you sit up on your seat as oliver wakes you, rubbing your eyes gently, “home?”

“yeah, c’mon.” he states, grabbing your bag for you and opening your door as you step into the night. it’s cold outside, and you wrap your jacket tighter around you, facing oliver and reaching out to take your bag, “thank you for taking me home. and…for everything. you didn’t have to do that.”

“no, but i wanted to,” he gives you a warm smile, “you can always talk to me. always.”

you nod as he hands you your bag, and you sling it over your shoulder as you start to walk back to your dorm. you expect to go alone, but oliver follows, insisting on walking you to your door. and you’re too drained to argue, so you let him, your legs feeling wobbly as you climb the steps to your room, his hand hovering behind your back like a safety net.

“you sure you’re okay?” he asks again, for what feels like the tenth time, but you know that he’s being sincere. 

you pause with your key halfway to the lock, turning to look at him. his eyes are wide and concerned, and you can see the way he’s itching to say more, to fix something. you give him a tired smile, “i’ll be fine, ollie. seriously. i just need to sleep this off, for real.”

he doesn’t look convinced, but he nods anyway, “if you insist. if you need anything— like, anything at all— just call me, okay? no matter what time, you know i’ll be up.”

“okay,” you promise, though you know you probably won’t. you weren’t exactly fond of the idea of using oliver as your night-time therapist, although he swore up and down it was okay. you just nod with a lazy smile, waiting for him to bid you goodbye.

he hesitates for a moment longer before finally stepping back, “well, goodnight, y/n. i love you, if you need something, just holler. and… hey, you’re brave as hell, you know that?”

he pulls you into a gentle hug before he goes, giving you a small kiss to your forehead. it’s got no romantic context behind it— oliver had always been the type to be affectionate towards you when you were down, or vulnerable. plus, he laughs afterward, and you know it’s because of your whole ‘fake dating’ ordeal, which makes you laugh, too. 

you watch as he leaves, making sure that he gets to his car safe. and when he waves at you and speeds off, you twist the doorknob into your dorm, stepping inside.

it’s is dark when you enter, save for the faint glow of a lamp in the living room and emma’s bedroom’s light that shines underneath her closed door. sometimes, she’d forget to turn it off before she fell asleep, so you figured that’s why it was on. 

you shut the door softly behind you, your bag slipping off your shoulder and landing on the floor with a dull thud. the silence feels different— heavy, almost suffocating, but you push it aside, determined to jump into your bed and finally go to sleep. 

“so, you’re back.” a voice cuts through the quiet, sharp and pointed.

you freeze, your breath catching as you turn to see emma standing in the doorway to the kitchen. 

so she wasn’t in her bedroom. or, asleep.

her arms are crossed over her chest, her red hair pulled into a messy bun, and she’s clad in one of your victoria’s secret sweatshirts and a pair of red sleeping shorts. her expression is unreadable— somewhere between anger and concern, and you really hope it’s the second one.

“emma,” you start, your voice barely above a whisper, but she cuts you off almost immediately.

“do you have any idea how worried i was?” she snaps, stepping closer, “you didn’t answer my texts, my calls— nothing. and then— this shit is what blew me— oliver calls me, telling me you’re drunk at some bar? what the hell, y/n?”

your stomach twists with guilt, and you look down at your feet. “i’m sorry,” is all you can mumble. you’re honestly too tired and too drunk to deal with emma’s shenanigans tonight.

“sorry?” she repeats, her voice rising. her arms are flailing everywhere, her curly hair bouncing, and it’s clear that she’s more angry than you thought, “that’s all you have to say? you disappear for hours, get drunk off your ass, and pick a fight with billie— yeah, oliver told me about that part too— and all you can say is sorry?”

“i didn’t mean for it to get that bad,” you say, your voice cracking, “i just… i don’t know, okay? everything’s been so overwhelming, and i—”

“and you what?” she interrupts, her eyes narrowing, “decided to self-destruct instead of talking to me? i’m your best friend, y/n. you’re supposed to come to me when you’re struggling, not push me away.”

her words hit you like a punch to the gut, and tears spring to your eyes before you can stop them. you were sick of crying— it’s like that’s all you’ve doing recently, but you can’t stop it. 

“emma, you were the one that was being distant from me, so i just gave you space. i didn’t know how to tell you, okay?” you cry, your voice shattering, “i didn’t know how to tell you that i’m falling apart, that i feel like i’m losing myself. i didn’t know how to tell you that i kissed billie and freaked out because… because—”

you choke on the words, your chest heaving as the tears spill over. emma’s expression softens instantly, the anger draining from her face as she steps closer. when she sees you break, it’s like she can’t even be mad at you anymore, and she rushes over to you, grabbing your shoulders softly.

“hey, hey,” she says gently, “it’s okay. you don’t have to say it all right now. just… breathe, okay? i’m sorry that i was angry with you. i understand…i was just worried. but i’m here.”

you nod shakily, trying to get your breathing under control. emma guides you to the couch, sitting beside you and waiting patiently as you wipe at your face with trembling hands.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper again, your voice small.

“stop apologizing,” she says, shaking her head at you, “i’m not mad anymore. i just… i want to understand what’s going on with you.”

you hesitate, your fingers picking at the hem of your sweater. “i told oliver tonight…that i’m….”

“you are?”

you breathe in. you weren’t really expecting to tell emma this soon— you honestly didn’t mean to tell oliver either, but you were here now, and you might as well tell your own best friend this secret that was haunting you. 

“i’m…” you huff, looking down at your hands, “i’m a lesbian, em.”

emma doesn’t react right away, just tilts her head slightly as she processes your words, resting her chin into her hands as she looks at you with sweet, sparkling eyes, “okay,” she says slowly, “and… how do you feel about that? about saying it out loud? i mean— really, y/n, this is not a surprise, i think you know that.”

you laugh, “yeah. but…just thought i should let you know what’s going on with me.”

“uh huh,” she hums, a smile glued to her face, “i’m proud of you. this is a big step, honey! so tell me, how are you feeling?”

“scared,” you admit, giggling softly, “but also… relieved, in a way? like I’m finally being honest with myself. but it’s complicated. billie— she made me feel things i didn’t know how to handle, and then everything spiraled, and i just…i liked her. i’ll admit it, but— i-i can’t. i have too much to deal with, and i’m still not really all that comfortable with what i’m feeling. but it’s too late, so whatever…”

emma reaches for your hand, squeezing it tightly, “babe, you don’t have to figure everything out tonight. it’s okay to take your time. but you’re not alone in this, okay? i’m here, and so is oliver. we’ve got you. just, focus on what you need to focus on. see what happens— but don’t put too much pressure on yourself. you’re smart, and i guarantee you that you’ll figure this thing out, alright?”

emma’s words are a balm to your aching heart, and you nod, leaning into her shoulder as exhaustion starts to take over. she pulls you tighter into her side, giving you a light squeeze as you both sit there for a second, basking in comfortable silence.

“thanks, em,” you murmur, your eyes fluttering shut.

“always,” she whispers, running a hand gently over your hair, “have you told jules and naomi yet?”

you shake your head gently, still resting on emma’s shoulder, “nope. i haven’t really talked with them all that much, but it’ll come when it comes. i don’t really feel like dealing with all this at the moment. i’m just trying to make sure of my own feelings, first. y’know?”

emma takes a deep breath, nodding at your words, but she doesn’t say anything, which you appreciate. she could tell that all you needed was a little acknowledgement, and your heart smiles at that. 

after a few more minutes of talking, you find yourself in your room, slipped underneath the covers as emma laid next to you, scrolling on her phone. now that you were home, she insisted that she keep you company until you sleep, just incase you needed to talk. 

you hadn’t told her about the fake dating with oliver, but it seemed irrelevant right now, so you’d just save it for later. 

you spend your last waking moments thinking. you felt warm at first, finally getting everything out into the air, but now you felt like you were swarming with guilt. was this what God wanted? was He frowning down at you, disappointed and confused?

but you couldn’t think about that right now, or you’d start to downward spiral again. so you just squeeze your eyes shut, attempting to finally rest.

and then, just as sleep is about to fully claim you, your phone buzzes on the coffee table, the sound jarring in the stillness. emma reaches for it, frowning as she glances at the screen.

“y/n,” she says, her voice tense.

you force your eyes open, groggy and confused, “huh? what is it?”

she holds the phone out to you, and your stomach drops when you see the name flashing across the screen.

it’s billie.

send an ask to be added to my taglist !!

taglist: @vharperr | @47lake | @hopingforgoodblogs | @zendayasredbottoms | @chrissv4mp | @mseilishmwah | @justtr | @natbelovasblog | @lovelyy-moonlight | @bilsdillldough | @billiesrighthand | @sturnsmia | @karaeilishh | @asterisk-eyes | @billiesbabygirll | @hrts4billieeilish | @greenbttrflyy | @drunkinyourbenz | @amara-eilish | @profoundcoffeepeanut | @billsbaby | @hkkuugu | @bilssturns | @lovxlyvee | @stargirl-mayaa | @emilyshortcake | @lordfarquads-gurl3 | @wilsonkatya | @enchantingesme | @alexawhatstheweathertoday | @dyinbymistake | @stargirlbils | @ash198458 | @astrcmoni | @diceroll65 | @saranghoe | @thefeverburningalive | @bxllxebxtch | @slxtarchive | @zbeaa

[sagewritings]

Grace and Arrogance - James Beaufort x Fem!Reader

pairing: james beaufort x fem!reader

synopsis: amidst playful bickering, the dynamic between you and james transforms from turmoil to bliss when james sheds his facade of arrogance to reveal hidden admiration.

word count: 2.1k

warnings/tags: mentions of a car accident, fluff with james beaufort

a/n: hello everyone! it's been a while since my last post because i haven't really had any inspiration and time over the past months but after watching maxton hall last week, i just couldn't help but write! ! i wrote this in like an hour on my notes app so it may seem a bit rushed but that's okay :>

if you’d like to check out my other works, you can check the pinned post in my blog :>

i hope you’ll like this fic! happy reading!

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Being a regular visitor at the Beaufort estate has familiarized you with every corner of the house. Now, you have memorized every room and decoration, immediately spotting whatever is newly added. The Beauforts didn’t mind your presence, with your family being close friends of theirs.

But it was not the Beauforts' son who you were particularly fond of.

You were extremely close with Lydia, your best friend since childhood. Despite both of you coming from wealthy backgrounds, your upbringing was notably different. Your parents owned a chain of hotels and restaurants across Europe, but they insisted on raising you humbly, teaching you the value of hard work and modesty. This upbringing made you see through the arrogance often displayed by James, Lydia's brother.

James, with his confident smirk and air of superiority, was someone you couldn't stand. Your encounters often led to playful bickering, a routine everyone at Maxton Hall was familiar with. But behind your teasing, there was an underlying respect for each other, one neither of you would openly acknowledge.

One sunny afternoon, you found yourself in the Beauforts' expansive garden, your favorite place to unwind with Lydia. She was lounging on a chaise, flipping through a magazine, while you were engrossed in a novel. The peace was soon interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

"Well, well, what do we have here? The ladies of leisure," James's voice drawled, cutting through the tranquility.

You looked up, ready to retort. "And here comes the lord of arrogance. What do you want, James?"

James smirked, leaning against a nearby pillar. "Just enjoying the sunshine. Is that a crime?"

"Only if you're planning to cast a shadow over our peace," you shot back, not missing a beat.

Lydia chuckled from her seat. "You two are impossible. Can't you ever have a conversation without turning it into a fight?"

"It's not my fault your brother is insufferable," you said, closing your book and standing up to face James.

"Insufferable? That's a new one. What else do you think about me, Y/N?" James asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Do you really want to know?" you challenged, stepping closer.

"Absolutely," he replied, his gaze locking onto yours.

Before you could respond, Lydia interjected. "Okay, enough, both of you. Can't we just have one afternoon without the bickering?"

You glanced at Lydia, then back at James. "Fine. But only because Lydia asked."

James shrugged, a smug smile on his face. "Whatever you say, Y/N."

Despite your frequent clashes, there were moments when you couldn't deny James's charm. Like the time he helped you with a school project, his intelligence and wit shining through in a way that caught you off guard.

You were in the library, struggling with a particularly difficult economics assignment. The sound of approaching footsteps made you groan inwardly. Of course, it had to be him.

"Need help, Y/N?" James asked, looking over your shoulder.

"I can manage, thank you," you replied curtly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of admitting you were stuck.

He pulled up a chair next to you anyway. "Let me see."

You sighed, sliding the paper towards him. "Fine. But no gloating."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said with a wink, scanning the problem. "Ah, I see the issue. You're overthinking it. Here, let me show you."

For the next hour, James patiently explained the concepts, his usual arrogance replaced with genuine enthusiasm for the subject. By the end of it, you had to admit he was a good teacher.

"Thanks, James," you said, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips.

"Anytime, Y/N," he replied, his expression softening.

Despite these moments of truce, your dynamic remained largely unchanged. That is, until the day you stopped going to your classes in Maxton Hall without warning. Lydia knew the reason but couldn't divulge it due to your parents' wish for privacy. This secrecy, however, only fueled James's concern and curiosity. Despite your clashes, he had always admired your kindness and humility.

Days turned into weeks, and your absence left a noticeable void. James found himself more worried than he cared to admit. His irritation grew, not just because you were gone, but because Lydia refused to tell him why.

James sat in the library, his usual spot, staring at the empty chair across from him. It felt wrong not having you there to challenge him, to banter with him. The silence was suffocating.

"Where is she, Lydia?" James demanded, cornering his sister in the hallway.

"I can't tell you, James. It's not my place," Lydia replied, her expression firm yet sympathetic.

"You know something, and you're keeping it from me," he accused, frustration evident in his tone.

"Trust me, if I could, I would tell you. But I can't," Lydia insisted, turning away.

James ran a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. "You don't understand, Lydia. I need to know she's okay."

"She is. That's all I can say," Lydia replied softly before walking away, leaving James standing there, his mind racing with worry.

He spent sleepless nights thinking about you, imagining the worst scenarios. Had something happened to you? Were you in trouble? Each passing day without any news felt like an eternity, and the worry gnawed at him incessantly.

The mystery was finally revealed during a dinner at the Beaufort estate. As you and Lydia's parents chatted, the conversation inadvertently turned to your family. James listened intently as they discussed the car accident that had left your father seriously injured. You had been absent to take over the family business in his stead, juggling the responsibilities of an heir with the pressures of high school.

"It was such a terrible accident," your mother said, her voice tinged with worry. "He was lucky to survive, but the recovery process has been grueling."

James's heart sank as he listened. The image of you, strong and resilient, dealing with such a massive burden alone, tugged at his heartstrings.

"Y/N has been amazing," your father added, his voice filled with pride and concern. "She's stepped up in ways we never imagined, taking on the business and keeping things running smoothly."

Lydia's parents nodded sympathetically. "She truly is remarkable. We can't imagine the pressure she's under."

James felt a pang of guilt and a surge of determination. He admired you even more for handling such immense pressure with grace. The next day, he decided to visit you.

You were in the midst of preparing for a business meeting when James arrived at your house. The sight of him surprised you, and your initial reaction was to push him away.

"James, I don't have time for this," you said, frustration evident in your voice as you shuffled through papers.

"I'm not here to argue," he replied, stepping closer. "I'm here to help."

You looked up, skepticism in your eyes. "Help? How?"

"I know how to run a business. Let me support you," he offered, sincerity in his voice.

You hesitated, the weight of your responsibilities making you wary. But the genuine concern in his eyes made you relent.

"Fine. But don't think this means I like you," you muttered, turning back to your work.

James chuckled. "Wouldn't dream of it."

He stepped forward, his presence steadying you as you felt the weight of everything crashing down. You fought back tears of exhaustion, the stress overwhelming you.

"Y/N, let me take some of this off your shoulders," James said gently, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

"I… I don't know if I can trust you," you admitted, your voice trembling. "You've always been so… unserious."

James's expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding. "I get it. I've been a jerk, but I care about you. More than I let on."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. "Why now, James?"

"Because I admire you. Your strength, your kindness. You're handling all of this with such grace, and I want to help you. Please, let me," he pleaded.

Your defenses crumbled, the exhaustion and stress finally taking their toll. "Okay," you whispered, the word carrying the weight of your vulnerability.

James stepped closer, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. For the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to lean on someone else, to share the burden.

Over the next few days, James proved to be an invaluable ally. His expertise in business management eased your burden, allowing you to balance school and work more effectively. The more you worked together, the more you saw a different side of him—one that was caring and dependable.

James took on tasks with a surprising efficiency, his usual arrogance replaced with a dedication that impressed you. He handled meetings, reviewed contracts, and even helped streamline operations, all while providing a steady source of support and encouragement.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you both found yourselves sitting in the garden, the stars twinkling above.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" James asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

You laughed softly. "How could I forget? You spilled juice all over my dress."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I was so nervous. I wanted to make a good impression, and I ended up making a mess."

"I thought you were a spoiled brat," you admitted, smiling at the memory.

"And now?" he asked, his gaze locking onto yours.

"Now, I see someone who cares deeply about his family and friends. Someone who hides his true self behind a facade of arrogance," you said softly.

James's expression turned serious. "And I see someone who is incredibly strong, even when faced with immense challenges. Someone who inspires me to be better."

The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity. Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was gentle, tentative at first, but quickly deepened as you both poured all your unspoken feelings into it.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you met his gaze and saw the same vulnerability mirrored in his eyes.

"I've liked you for a long time, Y/N," James admitted. "I just didn't know how to tell you."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I guess I like you too, James. Even if you are insufferable sometimes."

He laughed, pulling you into another kiss. The garden seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment.

The days turned into weeks, and with James's help, you managed to stabilize your family's business. His presence became a constant source of support and comfort, and your feelings for him began to shift.

Returning to Maxton Hall, you and James surprised everyone with your newfound camaraderie. The playful bickering was replaced by a growing closeness that neither of you could ignore.

The fundraiser ball at Maxton Hall was an annual event where everyone dressed in Victorian-era attire. This year, you and James were assigned to fix the lights, a task that allowed for a rare moment of privacy.

"Careful with that, Y/N," James warned as you reached for a particularly tricky bulb.

"I've got it," you insisted, balancing precariously on a ladder.

James steadied the ladder, his hands brushing against yours as he helped you with the light. The proximity made your heart race, a tension building between you that neither could ignore.

As the last bulb clicked into place, you turned to thank him, only to find him closer than expected. His eyes locked onto yours, the air thick with unspoken feelings.

"James…" you began, but he silenced you with a gentle touch to your cheek.

"I admire you, Y/N. More than you'll ever know," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could respond, he closed the distance, his lips capturing yours in a tender kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you met his gaze and saw the same vulnerability mirrored in his eyes.

"Can we try this?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

James smiled, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "I'd like that very much."

As the evening wore on, the lights you and James had fixed illuminated the grand hall, casting a warm glow over the attendees. You stood together, hand in hand, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

[kiestrokes]

Day 14: Duplicity | NSFW

▸ Idol: Yang Jeogin of SKZ ▸ Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI. ▸ Genre: a hard hour that got away from me, drabble, smut, little brothers best friend AU. ▸ Vibe: reader has a corruption kink and their little brothers best friend is really testing their control this holiday season. ▸ Warnings: language, slight age gap like five-ish years, drinking, club scene.

Sexually Explicit Content: CORRUPTION KINK DNI if this is not something you vibe with, kissing, groping/fondling, slight sub/dom dynamics, masturbation (male), mischievous turn of events.

🗝️ Note: Has not beta-ed by me or anyone else. Happy wipmas 🤗 @minttangerines is once again at fault for their bby bread agenda, thank you to Luce, @chans-room and @minisugakoobies for your input on the direction of the story.

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.

「 25 Hours: Hard, Soft and WIP-mas Masterlist 」

Jeongin.

Your brain hissed the name of your little brothers best friend, as he appeared in your line of sight. Through the undulating bodies, strobing multicolored lights and pulse of the speakers.

In the last week of being home for a visit with your family, he had been everywhere. Inescapable. No longer the thin, shy boy with sometimes snarky remarks. He had grown into his body.

A body that apparently he had no issues in constantly showing off. You were downstairs meticulously pouring creamer into your coffee, watching it for the right shade of caramel, when he appeared. Shirtless. Gray sweats hanging loose around his cut hips. Creamer spilled across your hand and on to the counter.

Jeongin had laughed your name then, rushing over to help you clean the mess. When all you wanted to do was scream for his half naked body to get away.

The pattern continued on like this over the last week. Jeongin choosing to nestle himself between you and your baby brother on movie night. The heat of his warm thigh seeping into your toes through the protective blanket shield, as you had your knees tucked under you for comfort. How he had sweetly asked to share the blanket with you, his hands underneath, resting on your bare ankle.

Your control and grip on reality slowly slinking away as your urge for depravity started to rear its ugly, seductive head. After watching polite and coy Jeongin interact with your other family members and childhood friends. Your teeth tingled at the thought of showing him an taboo side of things he probably never knew to exist.

"Noona!"

Suddenly that timid pup, turned sly fox had made the decision to approach you first. You assumed it was out of courtesy, being you had been gawking at him for the last five minutes.

"Jeongin, my friends and I have a private room upstairs would you like to join us?"

A familiar dimpled grin greets you in answer, you take his hand and guide him towards the stairs for the bottle service suites.

The two of you spend the night with your friends, catching up on his new role at work, introducing him to new liquors and tinctures of familiar ones. His thigh purposefully pressed into yours at all times. You read this as his bashfulness still bleeding through, and your stomach tightens as the urge to exploit flames across you.

"Noona," Jeongin calls, hand tugging your arm so that you will turn back to him from your conversation with a previous male classmate.

"Can I have a sip?"

He is pulling the wrist holding you glass towards him, your knee slots ever so slightly between his thighs to accommodate the angle he is asking and your willpower dissipates when he opens his knees to you.

"You're being quite needy," you tease, leaning in to squish his flushed cheeks and place the cup to his lips.

Jeongin drinks the entire glass under your unspoken instruction. His foxlike eyes boring into yours, asking, begging for more. You arrange a ride on your phone before pouring yourself another, much stronger drink.

The car ride is thick with the promise of more, Jeongin's hand interlaced with yours on his thigh. A quiet move, stating you were the one in control and that he was your submissive.

The two of you stumble into your bedroom, the house empty tonight as the rest of your family was attending your Aunt's annual holiday party. Jeongin sprawls to a sitting position on your bed, legs opened wide, head lifted and eyes on you, calling you in.

"Jeongin-" you step between his open thighs, raking a hand through his shaggy hair.

He tilts his face upwards, sitting up taller, "noona."

His hands ghost on the outside of your body, not touching, but asking wordlessly for permission to touch. You groan, climbing into his lap and grasping one of his hands to press it into your ass. That is half bared to him, where your dress rucked itself up.

Jeongin moans your name, fingers biting into the bare cheek of your ass as he tumbles back onto the bed just as your lips ghost over his.

"The room is spinning."

You cannot stop the tipsy giggle that leaves your lips at his confession. A paradox for how his hands are greedily trying to roll your hips into his trapped erection.

Sitting up, you press your full weight into his pelvis, hands moving to undo what few buttons are left to be opened on his shirt. Jeongin groans underneath you, bucking into your weight.

"Shhh, don't get so worked up just yet," you kiss his cheekbone before sitting back, "sit up for me."

Jeongin obeys, and you help him out of his shirt, leaving his lap to carefully drape it across your desk chair. Stripping out of your clothes as he watches, until you're naked in front of him and he moves to reach for you but you brush him off.

Bipassing his reaching arms to rifle through your suitcase, plucking out a pair of soft boy shorts and your favorite oversized t-shirt.

"Noona-" Jeongin calls, his voice tainted with the faintest whine.

You come into his space then, planting a soft kiss to his lips and down his cheek, along his jaw and neck. As your hands work to unbutton his jeans, he lifts his hips with your guidance and you gift him another soft kiss before pulling away to neatly fold his pants and place them on the chair with your other discarded clothing.

Jeongin rolls his socks off himself, standing up and placing them to join the others. The air between the two of you fizzes with anticipation. Slowly, tauntingly you reach up to cup him through his briefs, watching as his head kicks back with a pitchy groan.

"Oh," you cannot help the disappointment that bleeds into the word.

"Just give me a minute, its all of the alcohol."

"Come on."

You lead him to the bed, "I expected something like this, lets just sleep it off for a bit."

Jeongin nods in disappointment as he climbs in next to you under the covers. You groan, wrapping yourself around him as planting another kiss to his lips but pulling away before he can deepen it. Jeognin nuzzles into your chest, the booze effectively pushing him into a deep slumber

Your awoken to the sound of a car door slamming the next morning, jerking back into Jeongin. He grumbles nestling his erection into you ass as his arms tighten around your stomach.

"Jeognin-"

He lets out a sleepy click of his tongue, one hand slipping under your shirt to trace circles with his thumb on your stomach and the other roughly cupping your breast through the threadbare t-shirt.

You gasp, ass kicking back into his hips as he pinches your nipple. His other hand teasing he band of your panties. You clutch his hand to stop it and he groans, rubbing against you with this newfound embrace.

"I think everyone is home."

"I don't care-" Jeongin's teeth tug at the shell of your ear and you pant quietly in response.

Your hips rocking right along with his, teetering on the edge of your corruption kink and being the respectful eldest daughter. The first winning out when he whines your name into the side of your throat.

His fingers drift over your thighs and you tug them away from their destination and he moves off in a different direction. Palming your bare breast, stroking your lips, fisting your ass.

You groan, rolling over in his arms to caress every inch of his toned front. Finally letting him pull your mouth to his is a desperate kiss. Mouths open to each other, tongues swirling and teeth biting. Your fingers travel across his toned back, down to squeeze his firm ass.

Jeongin moaning into your mouth, melting at every touch and stoke of your tongue. His impatient hand grabs your wrists, pressing it into his still clothed erection. You give it a firm squeeze before pulling away.

"We can't- not now."

Jeongin lets out a long whine, snatching both wrists and pinning you on your back to the bed.

"In-ah," you gasp.

His head diving to leave open mouth kisses down your neck, his hips rolling into your pelvis, cock pressing into your damp panties, pushing up your shirt to squeeze your breast.

"Noona, just let me-" he finally succeeds in cupping your pussy, lifting his head to watch as you bow into him with a silent gasp.

"We can't."

Jeongin drags his knuckles roughly over your clothed clit, causing you to convulse. Your nails biting into his forearm, as her hips rut on their own accord into his fist.

"You sure?"

Jeongin grips your jaw, diving in to kiss you again when someone walks past your locked door. You freeze, cheek snapping towards the noise. You know its your brother by the sound of his dragging feet and you have his best friend on top of you.

You press both hands to his chest, "we can't, not now."

Jeongin stiffly moves off of you and you slip out of the bed, not even glancing back or speaking to him. You strip out of your clothes, leaving them scattered on the floor and slip into your on suite bathroom for a shower.

Jeongin groans, raking a hand down his face, down his abdomen and into his boxers. He can't believe after all his planning he still didn't get to experience you.

Jeongin had caught glimpses over the years, behind doors that hadn't full closed, in the school theatre when you and whatever lucky partner happened to be with you thought no one was home. How you teases and taunted the shy (fit) boys into submission. Had them coming so hard from orgasm denial, all over themselves.

You had a type and Jeongin knew he was halfway there, he just needed to focus on building his body. But he had accomplished that by twenty-one, yet you still wouldn't give him the attention he so desperately sought. So he decided he would have to use your own kink against you, slinking into a little corrupting himself.

Things were going so well until the alcohol hit his dick last night. He grunts, fisting himself hard, giving himself a frustrating tug when another idea hits.

Jeongin sits up, quickly kicking out of his boxers, he tucks them under your pillow, damp with your own arousal and his precum. Stiffly he walks over to retrieve your discarded panties from the floor. Lifting them to his nose, the salty almost cloudy scent of your essence floods his tongue and goes straight to his balls.

Jeongin reclaims his seat on the edge of your bed, your boy shorts clutched in one hand as he steals a pump of your lotion from the bedside table. Moaning as your scent fills the room, jasmine and ylang ylang. He strokes the lotion over his leaking cock. Head kicking back as the thoughts take over.

You're pinning him to the bed, soft pussy slicking up his cock until he's delirious, begging you to let him inside. You want him to come first, but he wants to come inside you to mix his release with yours, to claim you. He's fighting himself not to give in to your touch.

Jeongin's hips buck into his hand as he barrels towards his release, teeth biting into his lip to trap his whines inside until one last thrust he releases into your panties with a winded cry.

Chest heaving, he folds them neatly, setting your soiled panties aside so he can dress, sans boxers before stashing your underwear into the back pocket of his slacks and exiting your bedroom.

You cannot stand when things aren't in your control, when things are messy and especially when your favorite pair of sleep panties go missing.

Jeongin's heatbeat is in his throat as he sneaks out of your families home, a place he is much more accustomed to sneaking into. Both of your parents groaning about hangovers around the coffee pot in the kitchen. Your brother was probably sleeping face down in his unmade bed upstairs, winter coat still on.

Now it was just a waiting game.

© COPYRIGHT 2021 - 2024 by kiestrokes  All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations.

[ophelisstuff]

hiii! could u write some head cannons for Caitlin?

DATING CAITLIN CLARK HEADCANONS

authors note : i’ve actually been wanting to do this for a while but procrastinating smmm. But thank you to the person who requested this ! And i’m making a tag list ! dm me to be apart of it <3

requested by : anon

caitlin clark x reader headcanons

warnings : none

• Overprotective girlfriend who hates when you give anyone else your attention.

• “Well it seems like your friends company is better than mine.”

• Her mind is full of smart remarks, always giving an attitude whenever something doesn’t go the way she planned

• You always catching her mid eye roll and scolding her for it.

• Caitlin would try and teach you every sport she’s good at. Or trying to teach you the basics so you’d understand them.

• You two most definitely have a secret handshake, which Caitlin spent hours perfecting

• You help her pack for away games because she has absolutely no idea how to pack a suitcase the right way

• Her camera roll being full of pictures of you, and her lockscreen being a photo of you two

• Caitlin gifting you a necklace with her initials for your birthday, never wanting you to take it off.

• Always having her arm around your waist when in public, giving every stranger that looks your way an intimidating look.

• Hating when you aren’t able to attend her basketball games because she considers you to be her good luck charm

• Caitlin would refuse to talk to anyone except you after loosing a game, too upset to conversation with anyone else

• She’s always quick to shut down any hate targeted towards you, not caring who’s feelings she hurts.

• Caitlin giving you unnecessary attitude for no reason

• “Well no duh. Who didn’t know that already?”

• Her bringing you up in interviews and loving to showcase your beauty during special events

• An absolute sucker for naps, she falls asleep on your chest while watching movies

• The two of you clearing your schedule to have saturday rest days, to just stay home and cuddle all day long

• Caitlin refusing to let anyone touch her hair except you. Not trusting anyone else to do her signature ponytail except herself or you

• Always trying to take you on surprise dates no matter what day of the week it is.

• Always buying you shoes that’ll match hers.

• When she gets a new pair of sneakers, she’ll see if you want them too

• Caitlin having you wear her jerseys at almost all of her games so people know you’re taken.

• Her trying to assemble every piece of furniture you guys own by herself and refusing help

• You two would definitely have promise rings that would never come off of your fingers.

• Caitlin refusing to let you open the car door yourself and always wanting to open it for you

• Asking you to do her makeup for special events, because she doesn’t want anyone close to her face except you.

• You two definitely being dog moms and spoiling the pets like they’re real children.

• Caitlin hating when it’s her turn to doing the dishes, and procrastinating when it’s time to do so.

• “Well, it’s not my fault the sink isn’t getting hot enough!”

• You buying matching pajamas for the two of you and Caitlin pretending to hate them when she loves them.

[waldau-archived]

put a ring on it — lee jihoon | 1,236 words | fluff, hurt/comfort

can y'all tell i love this man a bit too much? like, this is way too sappy even by my standards. inspired by me forgetting my ring one morning and feeling extremely uncomfortable without it.

gender neutral reader. warnings: one gross(ish) fact about the human body.

jihoon’s not going to make a big deal out of this. he’s not going to make a deal out of this on any scale. not when this is the first proper date you’ve been on in almost a whole month.

it’s his fault, definitely, what with managing making songs and practicing for their comeback and being unable to sleep because of all the ideas buzzing around in his head. it went on till bumzu forced him out of the studio and made him take some time off for you, if not for his own sake.

oddly, the date’s going well. you look amazing, the food’s great, and he’s feeling more relaxed than he has in a while, all thoughts of deadlines pushed back because he’s worked enough to take on new projects.

jihoon knows he’s still not the best with being affectionate with you, and doesn’t match up to the way you’re so casually affectionate with him, despite how much he wants to be.

but it’s not so bad that you’d just stop wearing your promise ring, is it?

you’d been ecstatic when he’d first given it to you, pointing out how much he’d been blushing and how shy he’d been to tell you what it meant to him, and for the two of you, but now your hand looks bare without it. it looks wrong.

to make things worse, you don’t even seem mad with him. you’re talking to him like you normally do, asking him about his work and how all his friends are, telling him about how your day’s been. any other day, he’d love to listen fully to everything you have to say, but today it feels like your words are flowing in through one ear and leaving through the other.

you’ve both neared the end of your meal, and you still haven’t brought up why you’re not wearing the ring. jihoon’s sure he’s beginning to feel sick. did you just forget it after all these months of wearing it? is this your way of telling him that you’re done, you’re moving on, you have better things to spend your time on?

“do you want to go for a walk?” he asks, almost out of breath, when you finish telling him about a new movie you watched with your friends last week.

“what?”

“right now. it’s been a while since we’ve spent time together like this, and i just…don’t want it to end. if that's okay?”

you give him an apologetic smile. “i’m really tired today, hoonie. just want to go home and cuddle with you.”

ouch. okay. at least you didn’t turn him down entirely. and called his place home.

but the doubt doesn’t go away even when you’re in the car with him, singing to songs on the radio while you drive, laughing at how terrible your own voice is. any other day, jihoon would join in to tease your voice, but he doesn’t have the courage to do it right now. he watches you and thinks about what to do next, and more importantly why you’re not bringing it up.

you go into the bathroom first to take a shower, and come out wearing your sweatpants and one of his shirts. but your hand is still empty.

jihoon can’t take it anymore. he turns around resolutely to avoid facing you, trying to shut his mind before he says something stupid. the bed dips on your side and he knows you’ve turned to face him.

“hoonie?” you ask softly. “everything okay?”

“yeah,” he says, burrowing his face deeper into his pillow.

"are you sure?"

jihoon shrugs.

“okay, can i just…” you wrap an arm around his waist so your face rests in his neck, and he instantly relaxes against you. “tell me if this is too much.”

“not too much.”

you just stay together in silence for a while, jihoon just taking in your presence. it’s crazy how he doesn’t take more days off when it’s you he gets to come home to.

“did you know?” you ask, your words laced with a tone he's come to learn indicates you’re up to some mischief.

he shakes his head.

“earwax is a type of human sweat.”

jihoon’s broken out of his thoughts at that, turning to face you with an expression he hopes conveys disgust. you laugh loudly, poking his cheek.

“that’s what you wanted me to know?”

“just wanted to make you react somehow. tell me, what’s wrong?”

he shakes his head. “it’s nothing. i got over it.”

“i’ll believe that when you come crawling to me for cuddles.”

jihoon glares at you. “i don’t crawl.”

“but you haven’t asked me yet, so…”

jihoon knows he’s not going to get out of this, and it’s for the best if he doesn’t. “you didn’t wear your ring today.”

“i…what?”

he knows he’s being shifty. “it’s just…you weren’t wearing your ring when we went out for our date tonight. and you didn’t wear it after your shower, either.”

“i didn’t think you’d notice,” you say.

he sighs. “i’m not…i know i’m not very physically affectionate, and this ring is my way of reminding you i’m always there. for you. so i just felt…you know.”

you shake your head and the next thing he knows, he’s being pinned to the bed while you straddle his waist, giving him a stern look.

“lee jihoon.”

“oh, no.”

“how long have we been together for now?”

“um…a year?”

“are you asking me, or are you telling me that?”

“telling. one year.”

“have i ever once hinted at wanting to break up with you for whatever reason?”

“…no.”

you show him your hand. it’s bare, but when he looks closer, he realizes there’s a skin-coloured band-aid taking the exact place of your ring.

“what…”

“little accident when i was cutting an apple for myself. it’s nothing. i’ve been wearing my ring the way you do,” you say, tugging at your chain you’ve been wearing all evening long. it’s only then that he sees his ring sitting on it like it’s always belonged there.

“i love it just as much as you do, hoonie. of course i want it with me all the time. besides, i told you you’re stuck with me forever, didn’t i?”

jihoon can’t stop smiling like an idiot. when you first met and fell in love, it was new to him, because the love he’d written about in his songs was nothing like what he felt for you. if his songs were two dimensional, loving you and being loved by you was four dimensional.

not to mention all the songs you've inspired him to write about you, songs you get to listen to when you're in his studio, on his lap. just his whole world in one room.

he’s been working to keep that feeling between you both every single day, given he used to wonder how you’d ever understand and accept the part of his life that was music. but you have. and it’s been a whole year since you changed his perception about love.

on a whim, he tugs you down by your chain to press a kiss to your lips, and it ends up with you sprawled on top of him, laughing into his neck. just a year ago, he wouldn’t even have imagined this, but now, it feels right.

because it’s you.

taglist: @bookyeom

[silverstar70]

Fandom: Criminal minds Character: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Author's note: English isn't my first language, I apologize for any mistakes.

Summary: Hotch and Y/N give up and explore their feelings for each other.

Warnings: 🔞‼️ new relationship, mentioned George Foyet, mentioned Haley Hotchner, scars talk, fluff moments, friends to lovers, smut, oral sex, vaginal sex, memories, military backstory, family loss, comfort, idiots in love.

Words count: 6,411k Hope you like it and let me know what you think! Enjoy it!

Something new pt.2

Read part 1 here

Confessions

The car ride home was silent. His hand gripped firmly her tight, afraid that was just a dream. Her fingertips drew small circles on his forearms, over his evident veins. The longing from the past weeks mixed with the anticipation of what would come.

As soon as they were inside his house, the door barely closed behind them, they were on each other again. Aaron backed her up against the wall, his hands framing her face as he kissed her with a hunger that took her breath away. Y/N responded with equal fervor, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she pulled him closer.

“Y/N,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with emotion. “I want you.”

She pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting his. “Then take me, Aaron,” she whispered

His fingers gently brushed her cheek. “This might be the worst decision we ever make,” he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Or the best,” she countered, her own smile mirroring his.

His lips attached to hers again. Hotch’s hands moved down her body, over her curves. Her hands wrapped around his neck to pull him closer, to feel his body impossibly closer to her. His semi-hard cock was pressed against her stomach, increasing her desire.

With an effortless move, Hotch picked her up without breaking the kiss and guided them into the bedroom. He laid her gently in the middle of the bed and climbed over to cover her body with his. His cock was pressed more to her body, causing a suffocating moan from her.

As his fingertips brushed against her sides, her hands moved down his back until they reached the hem of his t-shirt. She slowly pulled it over his back when something shifted inside Hotch. The fear and the memories hit him like a train.

“Wait” he stopped her and pulled apart, sitting on the bed and leaving a concerned Y/N lying on the mattress. “It’s not you. I-It’s…”

Foyet. Y/N felt a pang of sorrow as she realized what he was referring to. How could she forget that? All the pain he inflicted was still there. Hotch tried so hard to put a brave face on, for his team, for Jack, but sometimes when he was alone in his bed, and the night fell he found himself alone with his demons and the memories.

She sat beside him and cupped his face in her hands, looking into his watery eyes. “It doesn’t change anything, Hotch.” Y/N placed a tender kiss on his lips, a silent promise of understanding and support. “But I don’t wanna force you. We could just watch a movie or something.”

“No.” he said firmly, “I want this. I want you. I just hate that he still has some power over my life.”

Her heart swelled with affection for the man in front of her. “Yeah, I know the feeling. I’ve been there more times than I would like to admit.”

“How did you move on?”

“I didn’t. I just learned to live with it.” she gave him a sad smile while her hand caressed his cheeks. “I know you miss Haley, and I know you blame yourself for what happened but, Aaron, it’s not your fault. You did everything you could to save her and Jack. And you did. Jack is alive because of you.”

“But he will grow up without his mom because of me.”  His voice was low and broken.

“Foyet killed Haley not you. Jack never blamed you, you’re his hero. And I’m hundred percent sure you’ll do everything in your power to never let Jack forget his mom. You are a great dad, Aaron.”

He looked at her, his eyes filled with gratitude and something else—something deeper. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Aaron leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, tender kiss. This time, there was no urgency, no rush. They took their time, exploring each other, savoring the intimacy of the moment. Aaron's hands gently slid down her back, his touch feather-light, as if he was afraid to break the spell.

Y/N shifted to straddle him with their lips still attached. His body responded almost immediately, letting her feel how much he wanted her. Slowly, she reached for the hem of his shirt once again, her movements careful and deliberate. Hotch watched her, his eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability.

As she lifted the fabric, revealing the scars that marked his torso, Y/N felt a wave of sadness and anger mixed with pride and admiration wash over her. A big part of her hated Foyet for what he had done, for the pain he had caused to both Hotch and Jack. But there was a part who admired Aaron for his strength, for his dedication to his son, for never giving up.

Aaron tensed slightly when her hand touched her chest, his eyes searching hers for any sign of disgust or pity. But all he saw was love and acceptance, a deep understanding that went beyond words.

"These scars," she said softly, tracing them with her fingertips, "they’re not a sigh of weakness, Aaron. You’re a survivor, you won.”

He swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. "Sometimes, I wish I could forget."

"I know," she whispered, her lips brushing against his.

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. For the first time in a long time, he felt a sense of peace, a quiet acceptance of his scars and everything they represented. He pulled her close, holding her head and capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

Their kiss deepened, their bodies moving together in a slow, sensual rhythm. Aaron’s hands found the hem of her shirt, and he gently pulled it up, his fingers brushing against her skin. Y/N lifted her arms, allowing him to remove the shirt completely. He paused for a moment, his eyes roaming over her body, taking in every detail. His gaze fell on a big scar on her right side, his fingertips brushed over it while his curious look was locked with hers. With her hand tangled in his hair, she gave him a sympathetic smile.

“We all have them, but they don’t define us, Aaron. We’re so much more than that.”

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

Y/N smiled, her hands moving to his chest. “So are you, Aaron.”

The sincerity in her voice broke something inside him, and he felt tears sting his eyes. He had never allowed himself to be this vulnerable with anyone, but with Y/N, it felt right. It felt like he was finally home.

He pulled her down so that their faces were level, his hands framing her face as he captured her lips in a kiss that was filled with everything he couldn't put into words. It was a kiss that spoke of love, of gratitude, of the deep connection that had formed between them.

Y/N responded with equal fervor, her hands clutching at his shoulders as she poured her heart into the kiss. She could feel his love, his need, in the way he kissed her, and it only made her love him more.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to steady their racing hearts.

“Let me show you.” She whispered, her fingers brushing the hair from his forehead.

She pushed him lightly making him lie down on the mattress while still straddling him. Y/N bent down to kiss him tenderly as his hands traveled down her back, over her curves. Her kisses trailed down over his jawline, down his neck, and on his collarbone making him giggle.

Her hands moved slowly over his chest; she could feel his muscles tense under her soft touch. Her kisses went further down while she parted his legs to make room for her to stand in between. Her lips met the first scar and Hotch immediately tensed.  

“You okay?” she asked in a soft voice, looking at him searching for any sign of discomfort.

“Yeah. Just go slow, okay?” Hotch’s whispered, so quietly she barely heard him.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

Y/N continued to kiss each scar, worshipping every single inch of his marked chest. She wanted to show him how much she cared about him, that she didn’t care about the scars, and that she liked him for him. Not for his past, not for anything else. She wanted to show him he was worthy of love.

Y/N could feel the tension leaving his body, his muscles relaxing under her touch. His hands, tangled in her hair, began to release them as he relaxed. She climbed over him once again while kissing his neck. Lost in each other once again, Hotch took her sports bra off, throwing it somewhere across the room.

The tension and the fear were just memories. Desire was spreading in his body. In the heat of the moment, with a swift move, Hotch rolled them ending up on top of her. Her eyes widened in surprise and a gasp escaped her mouth. 

Her breasts rested in his strong hands while he sucked one nipple and massaged the other. His mouth left wet kisses all over her chest making her moan.

“Don’t leave me hickeys.” She whimpered

“Too late, baby.” He said as he left a red mark over her breast.

She hissed in frustration, but she just didn’t want to let him she liked it. He leaned to kiss her again, a searing kiss to explore each other.

His hands roamed her body, exploring the curves and lines that he had come to know so well. Y/N responded eagerly, her own hands tracing the muscles of his back, her fingers digging into his skin as she pulled him closer.

Their movements were slow and deliberate, each touch a silent affirmation of their feelings for each other. Aaron took his time, savoring every moment, every sound that escaped her lips. He wanted to memorize every inch of her, to make this moment last forever.

When his lips found the sensitive spot on her neck, Y/N let out a soft moan, her head tilting back to give him better access. Aaron smiled against her skin, pleased with her reaction as he continued to kiss and nibble at her neck, his hands caressing her sides.

"You're amazing," he whispered against her skin, his breath hot and teasing.

Y/N arched into him, her body craving more of his touch. "Aaron, please..."

He chuckled softly, his hand sliding down her side to rest on her hip. "Patience, Lieutenant."

But he couldn't deny her for long. The need between them was too strong, too overwhelming. He moved lower, kissing his way down her body, taking his time to appreciate every curve, every dip, and every rise.

He worshipped her scar like she did with his moment before. His kisses were gentle on her skin but made her tense at the first touch, but she quickly forgot it and savored the moment

When he reached her hips, he paused, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her underwear.

"May I?" he asked, his voice deep with desire.

Y/N nodded, her breath hitching as she felt him slowly pull the fabric down her legs. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

Aaron discarded the last piece of clothing, his eyes darkening with desire as he took in the sight of her completely bare before him. He let out a slow breath, his hands caressing her thighs as he looked up at her with a mixture of awe and love.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his voice filled with reverence.

She blushed at his words, her heart racing in her chest. "Aaron..."

He didn't give her a chance to respond. Instead, he leaned down, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh, then another, and another, moving closer to her core with each kiss. Y/N's breath quickened, her hands gripping the sheets as she felt the heat of his breath against her most sensitive area.

When his lips finally made contact, she let out a soft cry, her body arching toward him as a surge of pleasure washed over her. The intensity of his touch, the way his tongue flicked and teased her, made her mind go blank with nothing but the sensation of him between her thighs.

Aaron was deliberate, almost reverent in the way he worshipped her body. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he explored her with his mouth. Every flick of his tongue, every gentle nip and suck, was designed to drive her closer to the edge, to make her lose herself in the pleasure he was giving her.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured between kisses, his voice filled with admiration as he continued his ministrations. "So perfect."

Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, her body trembling as she struggled to keep her composure. Each movement of his mouth sent electric jolts through her, making it impossible to think, to do anything but feel. His praises whispered against her skin only heightened the overwhelming sensations.

"Aaron, please," she gasped, her voice trembling as the coil of tension inside her wound tighter and tighter, ready to snap. She was on the brink, teetering at the edge of release, and she needed him—needed this—more than anything.

Aaron hummed softly, the vibration against her most sensitive spot sending a jolt of pleasure through her. He lifted his gaze to meet hers, his eyes dark with desire and love. Without breaking eye contact, he intensified his efforts, his tongue moving faster and deeper

"Let go for me, Y/N," he urged softly, his voice rough with emotion. "I’ve got you."

His words, combined with the relentless pleasure he was giving her, were her undoing. With a sharp cry, Y/N’s body tensed, then shattered as the wave of her orgasm crashed over her. The world around her blurred as pleasure consumed her and her vision narrowed.

“Oh God, Aaron!”

Aaron didn’t stop, guiding her through the aftershocks with gentle licks and kisses, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until she was trembling beneath him. Only when she had relaxed completely did he move back up her body, pressing tender kisses to her abdomen, her chest, and finally, her lips.

"You’re incredible," he whispered against her lips, his voice thick with affection.

Y/N smiled, still dazed from the intensity of her release, but she wasn’t done with him yet. She cupped his head pushing him down gently to place a kiss on his lips, testing herself. One of her hands found its way between their bodies down to his pants.

"My turn," she whispered, her voice filled with playful determination as she massaged him over his pants.

Aaron groaned into the kiss, his hands sliding up her sides to rest on her hips, his touch possessive and tender. The feel of her bare skin against his, the heat of her body, ignited a fire in him that he could barely control.

As Y/N kissed him, she could feel him hardening under her touch. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest, the rapid beat matching her own. The vulnerability he had shown her, the trust he had placed in her, only made her love him more.

When she felt him tense beneath her but didn’t stop her lips from trailing down his neck to his collarbone. She took her time, kissing every inch of his skin, savoring the taste of him, the way his breath hitched with every touch.

"Y/N," he gasped, his hands tightening on her hips as she continued her massage. The need in his voice, the raw desire, sent a thrill through her, spurring her on.

She smiled against his skin, enjoying the way he reacted to her touch, the way his body responded so eagerly to her. With a smirk on her face, she instructed him to stand allowing herself to have a magnificent view of his body.

As he stood between her legs, her fingertips traced patterns on his lower abdomen, over the waistband of his pants. She paused and looked up to him.

"May I?" she asked, echoing his earlier words, her voice soft and teasing.

Aaron’s breath caught in his throat, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he looked down at her. The sight of her there, her eyes filled with desire and love, nearly undid him.

"Please," he breathed, his voice strained with need.

 With a smile, Y/N slowly pulled the fabric down, revealing the hard length of him. The sight of him, so ready for her, sent a wave of heat through her, and she couldn’t resist but took his cook in her hands and began moving up and down, slowly, agonizingly slowly.

Hotch let out a low groan, his head falling back. Feeling that vulnerable, so exposed was almost too much, yet he never felt so loved. Her words were sincere, her love was pure, and the look of admiration printed on her face was more than enough for him.

"Y/N," he murmured, his voice hoarse as he tried to hold back, to give her time, but it was getting harder with every passing second. The need to be inside her, to feel her around him, was overwhelming.

Sensing his desperation, Y/N didn’t tease him further.  “I need you.”

He groaned softly at her words, But just as he was about to move forward, he hesitated, his eyes searching hers for any sign of doubt.

“Are you sure? Do I need to use protection?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/N nodded, her eyes filled with love and trust as she gazed up at him. “I’m sure. And no, I’m clean. I want to feel you.”

“I’m clean too.” He said in a serious tone. That was all the permission he needed and with his cock in hand he slowly pushed himself inside of her. They both groaned at the new feeling, Y/N gasped as the sensation of him stretching and filling her was more intense than she anticipated.

Aaron paused, giving her time to adjust, his breath coming in shallow pants as he fought to maintain control. The sensation of being inside her, of feeling her warmth envelop him, was almost too much to bear, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from losing himself too soon.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice strained with effort.

“More than okay,” she replied, her hands gripping his shoulders as she urged him to continue. “Please, Aaron…”

He slowly pushed deeper until he was fully seated inside her. They both let out a shaky breath at the sensation, their bodies perfectly aligned as they lay pressed together, skin to skin. The connection between them was palpable, a thread of intimacy that bound them together in a way that went far beyond the physical.

He began to move deliberately and slowly, wanting to feel every muscle of hers tightening around him. His thrusts were slow and deep, so deep she felt her eyes roll in her head. Her hands wrapped around him as her nails scratched his back.

Aaron rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closing as he savored the moment, the feeling of finally being with the woman he wanted for so long. “You feel amazing,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with affection for the man above her. “So do you,” she whispered back as she kissed him softly.

Aaron’s movements were deliberate and controlled, each thrust designed to bring her pleasure as he held her close, his hands caressing her body with a tenderness that made her heart ache.

Y/N’s breaths came in soft, gasping moans, her head tilting back as she lost herself in the sensations Aaron was creating. The pleasure built slowly, a steady heat that grew with each thrust, each caress of his hands. She could feel the tension built within her again, tighter and tighter as they moved together in perfect harmony.

“Aaron… I’m close…” she breathed out, her nails digging into his back as the pleasure began to overwhelm her.

He responded by quickening his pace, his thrusts becoming deeper and more urgent as he pushed her closer to the edge. “Come for me, Y/N,” he whispered in her ear, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel you.”

That was all it took. Y/N cried out as the tension snapped, her body shuddering beneath him as she was consumed by another wave of pleasure, even more intense than the first. Aaron groaned as he felt her tightening around him.

“Give me one more, baby.” He whispered in her ears.

He lifted himself up to have a better look at the view under him. Within seconds he was pounding into her once again, his hands gripped firmly her hips to pull her closer to him. His low groans were music to her ears and sent shivers through her spine.

“God, Y/N” a moan escaped his mouth.

His hand found its way to her clit, he started drawing small circles putting pressure with his thumb. A familiar feeling began to grow in her stomach, like a volcano ready to erupt. Y/N was failing at controlling her body, the pleasure was overwhelming, and her head felt dizzy.

He knew she was close; he could feel it around him. He could see the pleasure taking over her and a sense of pride washed over him.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” he ordered as his fingertips kept moving over her clit to add pleasure. The thrusts turned more precise hitting the same spot over and over. Her body trembled beneath him as a strong wave of pleasure hit her more intensely.

“Oh God!” she cried out in pleasure.

With a few more thrusts, he followed her over the edge, his body tensing as he spilled inside her, his breath coming in ragged gasps. For a moment, they were both lost in the overwhelming sensations, their bodies trembling with the force of their release.

When the aftershocks finally subsided, Aaron collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms as they both struggled to catch their breath. Y/N nestled against him, her head resting on his chest as she listened to the rapid beating of his heart.

“That was…” he began breathlessly.

“Worth the wait.” She continued looking up at him.

“Definitely.”

They lay like that for a long time, the only sound in the room was their soft breaths. Y/N felt a deep sense of contentment settle over her, a warmth that spread through her entire body as she started to trace the lines of his scars, her fingertips brushing over them slightly feeling his muscles still tensing under her touch.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly.

“Yeah,” Aaron’s fingers gently traced patterns on her back, his touch soothing and comforting as he held her close. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy,” he admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N smiled, her eyes closing as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Me neither,” she replied, her voice filled with contentment.

Aaron tightened his hold on her, his heart swelling with love for the woman in his arms. He had never imagined that he could feel this way again, that he could find someone who saw him, truly saw him, and loved him despite everything. But Y/N had done just that, and he knew without a doubt that she was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“It’s good to have you here,” he whispered, the words filled with all the emotion he couldn’t express any other way.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shining with love and affection. “It’s good to be here.”

He leaned down to kiss her, a slow, lingering kiss that conveyed everything he felt for her. When they finally pulled apart, they were both smiling, a quiet happiness settling over them as they lay together in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

Eventually, sleep began to creep in, their eyelids growing heavy as the exhaustion of the day caught up with them. Y/N snuggled closer to Aaron, her body perfectly molded to his as they drifted off together, the warmth of his embrace lulling her into a peaceful slumber.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he whispered kissing her forehead.

“Night, Aaron.” She mumbled half asleep.

*

Y/N woke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains, the room bathed in a gentle golden glow. She stretched languidly, her muscles pleasantly sore from the night before. But as she turned to reach for Aaron, her hand met empty sheets, cool to the touch. Blinking away the last remnants of sleep, she sat up, feeling a momentary pang of disappointment at his absence.

The room was quiet, the only sound was the faint rustle of leaves outside the window. Y/N’s gaze wandered around the space, taking in the simple, yet cozy surroundings of Aaron’s bedroom. The events of the night before came flooding back, a warm blush spreading across her cheeks as she remembered every tender moment, every whispered confession.

Pushing the covers aside, she slipped out of bed, her feet touching the cool floor. She spotted one of Aaron’s shirts draped over the back of a chair and couldn’t resist the urge to put it on. The fabric was soft, carrying his familiar scent, and it made her feel wrapped in his warmth, even though he wasn’t there beside her.

As she walked down the hallway, the smell of freshly brewed coffee reached her, and she smiled, her heart swelling with affection. When she entered the kitchen, she stopped in the doorway, her breath catching in her throat at the sight before her.

Aaron was standing by the stove, his back to her, wearing nothing but a pair of dark boxers. The early morning light highlighted the strong lines of his back, the curve of his shoulders, and the way his muscles moved subtly beneath his skin as he worked. His hair was slightly tousled, evidence of the night’s rest, and the sight of him so relaxed, so at ease in this moment, made her heart skip a beat.

Y/N leaned against the doorframe, just watching him for a moment, the domesticity of the scene filling her with a sense of contentment she hadn’t known she was missing. It was such a simple thing, waking up to find the person you loved making breakfast, but in that moment, it felt like everything she’d ever wanted.

“Good morning,” she finally said, her voice soft but carrying across the quiet space.

Aaron turned at the sound of her voice, a smile immediately lighting up his face as he took in the sight of her standing there in his shirt, looking so effortlessly beautiful. “Good morning,” he replied, his voice warm and filled with affection. “I was just about to bring you breakfast in bed.”

She walked over to him, her bare feet making soft sounds on the tiled floor. “I like this better,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind, pressing her cheek against his back.

Aaron’s hand covered hers, holding it against his stomach as he leaned back into her embrace. “I didn’t want to wake you,” he murmured, turning his head slightly to catch a glimpse of her. “You looked so peaceful.”

“I slept better than I have in a long time,” she admitted, her voice muffled against his skin. She could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm, a soothing rhythm that grounded her in the moment.

“I’m glad,” he said, turning around in her arms so that they were face to face. He tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, his eyes soft as they met hers. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Y/N blushed, ducking her head slightly. “I could say the same about you.”

Aaron chuckled, the sound low and warm as it rumbled through his chest. “I’m not sure anyone’s ever called me beautiful before.”

“Well, get used to it,” she replied, her fingers tracing the lines of his chest, feeling his muscles under her fingertips. “Because I’ll remind you every time I can.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t try. Instead, he leaned down and captured her lips in a tender kiss, one that spoke of gratitude, love, and the deep connection they shared. Y/N melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled him closer, savoring the warmth of his body against hers.

When they finally pulled apart, Aaron rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the space between them. “I suppose I could get used to it,” he said softly, his hands resting on her hips, fingers brushing against the hem of his shirt that she wore.

Aaron smiled a contented, almost boyish smile that made her heart skip a beat. “How do you like your eggs?” he asked, nodding towards the stove where he had already started breakfast.

“Surprise me,” she said with a grin, not caring much about what he made as long as they were together.

Aaron nodded and turned back to the stove, one arm still wrapped around her waist as he resumed cooking. Y/N stayed close, her head resting against his shoulder as she watched him work, feeling a sense of peace that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

The sizzle of eggs in the pan, the smell of coffee brewing, the warmth of Aaron’s body against hers—everything about the moment was perfect. It was the kind of morning she had always dreamed of but had never quite believed she would have.

“Do you cook often?” she asked, her fingers tracing random patterns on his back as she looked up at him.

“Not as often as I’d like,” he admitted, glancing down at her with a small smile. “But I enjoy it when I can. It’s… therapeutic in a way.”

Y/N nodded, understanding completely. “I get that. There’s something calming about it.”

As they stood there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for everything that had led them to this point. They had both been through so much—pain, loss, and heartache—but somehow, they had found their way to each other. And now, as they stood together in the soft morning light, she knew that this was where she was meant to be.

When breakfast was ready, Aaron turned off the stove and plated the food, sliding the plates onto the small kitchen table. Y/N poured them each a cup of coffee, and they sat down together, side by side, their legs brushing under the table.

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the occasional smile or touch all that was needed to convey the deep connection between them. There was no need for words; everything that mattered was already understood.

After they finished eating, Aaron leaned back in his chair, watching Y/N as she sipped her coffee, her eyes closed in contentment. He couldn’t help but reach out, his hand brushing against her cheek, drawing her attention back to him.

“What?” she asked with a smile, setting her mug down as she turned to face him.

“Just…you,” he said, his voice soft and filled with emotion. “This was not how I wanted things to go. I wanted to ask you out, bring you flowers, and take you on a date. I don’t want a one-time thing, Y/N. not with you.”

“Neither do I, Aaron.” She reassured him, closing the gap between them to place a kiss on his lips. A silent promise that she meant every word.

The kiss turned more meaningful as he pulled her closer to him holding the back of her neck. The force he used to pull her closer made her get up and stand between his legs. His hands wrapped immediately around her waist. Her hands cupped his face, deepening the kiss, making him groan. When air became a need, they pulled apart, a smile spread on both their face.

“I’ll take you out, anyway.”

“I don’t complain.” She said smiling while caressing his cheeks. “Just promise me we won’t let the job get between us.”

“I promise. We’ll make it work.” He said, his voice filled with quiet determination. “Whatever it takes.”

As the morning continued in its soft, serene rhythm, Y/N stood by the window, gazing out at the peaceful suburban neighborhood and she found herself lost in the tranquility of the moment. A stark contrast to the chaos and danger that always defined her life, especially during her time in the Navy.

Aaron was tidying up the kitchen, the clinking of dishes and the soft hum of his movements providing a comforting backdrop. Y/N turned her gaze back to him, watching as he moved with an effortless grace, his presence filling the room with a sense of calm.

But as she watched him, she became acutely aware of the scar on her abdomen, of how Hotch avoided asking questions that she knew he had. All of sudden her mind drifted back to the day she had earned it and unconsciously started tracing the edge of it through Hotch’s shirt.

Aaron, ever perceptive, noticed her change in demeanor. He set down the dish he was drying and walked over to her, his brows furrowing with concern. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice pulling her from her thoughts. “You okay?”

She looked up at him, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He didn’t push, but his eyes lingered on her face, studying her with a tenderness that made her heart ache. After a moment, his gaze dropped to where her hand rested on her abdomen, and immediately understood.

Aaron hesitated for a moment, not wanting to pry, but his curiosity and concern got the better of him. “Y/N… can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she replied, her voice gentle, though she could sense where the conversation was heading.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against her hand where it rested on the scar. “This… this scar. How did you get it?”

Y/N looked down at his hand on hers, feeling the warmth of his touch seep into her skin. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before she spoke. It wasn’t a story she shared often, but she knew Aaron would understand and after he allowed himself to be vulnerable around her it was only fair for her to do the same.

“I got it a few years ago,” she began, her voice steady despite the heaviness in her heart. “I was overseas, on a mission with my team. We were part of a rescue operation—there was a situation where we had to extract another team from a remote location. It was supposed to be a straightforward mission, but things went wrong. The helicopter we were in was hit by a missile.”

Aaron’s eyes darkened with concern as he listened, his hand tightening slightly on hers as if to anchor her in the present.

“We crashed in enemy territory,” she continued, her voice quieter now as if the memories were too heavy to speak loudly. “The impact… it was brutal. I took shrapnel to the abdomen, and for a moment, I thought… I thought that was it. But I was lucky, and we were eventually rescued.”

Aaron’s hand moved from hers to gently lift the hem of the shirt, exposing the scar that marred her otherwise flawless skin. He traced the edge of it with his fingertips, his touch featherlight as if he was afraid of causing her pain.

“But not everyone made it,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper now. “My older brother… he was on the team we rescued. He didn’t make it.”

Aaron’s breath hitched at her words, his heart breaking for her. He looked up at her, his eyes filled with empathy and sorrow. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

She nodded, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “Losing him… it tore me apart. I got in a really bad place after his death but an old friend of mine helped me through it. So, I fought because that’s what my brother would have wanted.”

Aaron pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she finally let a few tears slip free. She buried her face in his chest, finding comfort in the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his embrace. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t need to. All she needed was someone to lean on and he was there for that.

When Y/N finally pulled back, she looked up at Aaron with a mixture of gratitude and love in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I don’t talk about it often, but it feels good to share it with you.”

“You can always talk to me,” Aaron replied, his voice steady and reassuring. He smiled a soft, almost shy smile that made her heart flutter. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”

“The best pair,” she replied with a grin, leaning in to kiss him.

Aaron pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers as if to make sure she was okay. “How about we take it easy today?” he suggested gently. “We can stay in, watch movies, or just… be together. Whatever you want.”

Y/N smiled, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. “I’d like that,” she said, her voice soft but filled with warmth. “I’d like that a lot.”

Aaron smiled back at her, his eyes reflecting the same warmth and affection. “Then that’s what we’ll do,” he said, his voice filled with quiet determination.

He took her hand in his, leading her out of the kitchen and back into the living room. They settled on the couch, Y/N curling up against Aaron’s side as he draped an arm around her, pulling her close. The TV was on, playing some movie they barely paid attention to as they simply enjoyed the comfort of being together.

Tag: @sweetbearcolorgarden

Read part 3 here

[stevie-petey]

episode seven: the bathtub

Steve sighs, “I just… I wanna help.” Maybe it’s his black eye or the pathetic way Steve says he wants to help, but the man comes down the ladder and hands him the dirty rag he had been using. “All yours.” Steve takes his jacket off and accepts the rag and climbs up, ready to get to work. He really does want to help, he has been trying to help. And Steve just really hopes that you can see his efforts someday, maybe even soon. He’s had a really rough week.

Summary: your brother basically places himself on the fbi's most wanted list and el flips a van with her mind, now you have to create a giant salt tub because of course you do, nancy tries Talking About It but hasn't she read the title ? you don't have the time. sidenote: you've somehow become a steve defender during these trying times. typical. meanwhile: steve's inner thoughts are pathetic.

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/b, implications of death and violence

Words: 10.2k

Before you swing in: hello ! long time no see, i apologize :/ working while im home for winter break and my hours suck, but we move on ! heres chapter 7, she was a pain to write because it was more complex than i thought, but i love her dearly </3 enjoy !

-

When you finally get to the police station, exhausted and sweaty from running, an angry blond woman is following after Hopper as he guides Joyce, Nancy, and Jonathan towards his cruiser.

“Aren’t you going to do anything about that toothless kid and his weird friends?” She screams at the officer, but he just ignores her and instructs the others to get into the car.

A toothless kid and his weird friends? Gee, you wonder who the woman could be talking about.

You get to the car right as Hopper has started the engine. You knock on the window and he sighs when he sees it’s you. He rolls down the window. “Why is it always you?”

“I think it’s time you learn that wherever he goes,” you point towards Jonathan, who smiles at the chief, and then you point at yourself. “I go.”

“She’s right.” Joyce mumbles from the passenger seat.

Hopper places his head in his hands and sighs once more. “We don’t have time for this. Step away from the car. Now.”

You blink. “I’m sorry?”

“Leave, go home.”

Jonathan speaks up from the backseat. “Hopper, she has to come with us–”

“Where the hell are you guys going? Weren’t you arrested?” You ask, now even more confused.

“Not arrested, just detained.” Joyce corrects.

The officer groans. “Does any of this matter? We need to leave, now.”

“We can leave as soon as you let me in the car.”

Hopper stares at you. “You have no idea what you’re walking into, kid.”

“Try me.”

“Step away from the car–”

“The ‘toothless kid’ that the crazy woman shouted about is my brother!” You shout, entirely over this entire conversation. Like hell this bitter old man is going to stop you from following wherever Jonathan goes. Especially if Dustin is involved somehow.

“I told you, no-”

“I can and will hop on the hood of this damn car if you don’t let me in within the next five seconds.”

Hopper laughs. “Sure ya will.”

“One,” you begin counting.

“That’s not going to work.”

“Two,”

“Uh, Hopper?” Jonathan speaks up. “She’ll do it, you know.”

“Three,”

Hopper doesn’t listen, and now Joyce is getting annoyed. “Hop, just let her in.”

“I kind of want to see her jump on the hood.” Nancy says, causing Jonathan to laugh.

“Four,” you walk to the front of the car and pop your foot up, getting ready to start climbing. If Hopper thinks you aren’t being serious, then that’s his own damn fault. He starts shouting at you to knock it off while Joyce pleads with him to listen to you. Jonathan tries to get out of the car, but Hopper has locked them in. Everyone is arguing and yelling and you’re just ready to say fuck it and straddle a cop car.

Right before you can jump entirely onto the hood of the car, Nancy lurches from the back seat and screams through Hopper’s window, “Y/N, just tell the man about El!”

Everyone freezes; no one says a single word. Slowly, you lower your leg and walk over to the driver’s window once more while Hopper just stares at you. You can’t exactly read the look on his face, but if you had to guess, it’d be something like of course this kid knows about El.

“Who the hell is El?” He demands as soon as you’re back in front of the window.

“Buzzed hair, nose bleeds when she uses her powers, and hangs out with my brother and his friends. Ring any bells?” You ask, a slight smirk on your face because you know you’ve won. Bless Nancy’s quick thinking.

Hopper’s face drops and he lets out a tired sigh. “So, you know about the girl?”

You snort. “Yeah, I know about her. Better yet: I've met her, and I know something awful is about to happen. Let me into the goddamn car. Now.”

The two of you have a stare down for a couple seconds before he finally gives in and unlocks the door. “You’re the worst in the group.”

“Oh, just wait until you hang out with my brother. Now, let’s go for a drive, shall we?”

–

The slight amusement you felt earlier quickly dissipates as Hopper explains everything going on. He explains El, who is really named Jane, and how he had found her mom and learned that some guy named Brenner was conducting experiments on her while she was pregnant. Thus, he created El and her powers and ultimately kidnapped her, leaving her mother to believe that she was dead. Now El has escaped, causing Will’s disappearance, and unfortunately some other horrible consequences.

Said consequences include driving to Nancy’s house because this Brenner guy apparently really wants El back and has gone as far as faking a twelve year old’s dead fucking body. Now he’s currently tracking her and the boys down.

Who knew Hawkins could have anything as exciting as a shady lab and actual men in black coats?

“Y/N, I need you to tell me everything you know about this girl,” Hopper demands, glaring at you from the rearview mirror as you sit between Nancy and Jonathan.

You do as you’re told, but admittedly there’s not much to tell him. Sure, you know El and have spent some time with her now, but other than that you’re still a bit lost yourself. The details are fuzzy in your mind, a picture has almost formed, but not quite.

As you’re struggling to explain more about the Upside Down to a very frustrated Hopper and a concerned Joyce, a parade of Hawkins Power and Light vans fly past the car and turn onto Nancy’s block. Once again, everyone in the car goes quiet.

“Neighborhood power outage?” You ask, really hoping you’re right, but worry is now creeping in. God, you really need to just stop leaving the kids alone after this week. Dustin was just supposed to see Mike, apologize to Lucas, and have a nice conversation about how friendship is magical and all that bullshit.

It doesn’t look like they did that.

Hopper suddenly jerks the car into a different neighborhood and speeds down the block. The speed scares you and Jonathan grabs your hand, sensing your growing unease. Then, the car brakes and you’re thrown forward by the momentum. “Fuck!”

“Sorry, honey.” Joyce murmurs to you, but the view in front of you catches your attention.

Hopper has brought you guys to an overlook of Nancy’s neighborhood with a perfect view of her house being surrounded by a bunch of expensive cars and men in suits carrying items out from her basement. You see one man holding a stack of your comics with one of Dustin’s old hats on top.

You want to throw up.

Nancy reacts no better than you do and immediately bolts out the car, Hopper and Joyce not far behind her. The man whips out a pair of binoculars and scopes out the scene while Nancy just stands there, stunned. She begins to speak to him, demanding to go into her house, but he doesn’t let her.

You’re left alone with Jonathan in the car and you feel your own panic begin to settle in. Seeing all the cars, the fucking helicopters, after your baby brother… You really, really want to throw up.

You feel yourself begin to spiral. You think about how you’d left Will alone to bike home and how, because of you, he never made it back. Instead he got taken by a monster that’s big enough to kill a fucking deer. Will, small and sweet Will, is gone because of your inability to keep those you love safe.

And now Dustin and the boys are facing the same fate, all because of your stupidity. You left them alone, again, after they’ve spent the entire week sneaking off and getting into trouble. You have no reason to be surprised by their actions. You’re not an idiot, you should’ve known better.

You should’ve known better than to listen to Jonathan about not taking Will home. You should’ve known better about letting the boys explore those woods the night you found El. You should’ve reported the missing girl, called the cops, anything else rather than help hide her.

But because of your stupid, stupid, need to take care of everyone around you, to please everyone no matter what it may cost you, you’re in a cop car as your brother is being hounded down by what appears to be the goddamn FBI.

This is all your fault.

Hopper is saying something to Nancy now, there’s a commotion outside the car door and you know you should go out there and help, but you can’t. Jonathan, seeing the argument outside as well, turns to tell you that he’ll go and help, but stops when sees how pale you’ve gotten and that your leg is bouncing wildly.

He’s known you for years; he knows what you look like right before you have a complete breakdown.

He grabs you and you find yourself engulfed within his chest. His hands come up to your hair and he runs his fingers through it in a way that’s always calmed you down. You find yourself beginning to cry at the tenderness.

“I’m here, bug.” Jonathan whispers the words with his chin tucked atop of your head. He runs a hand up and down your back, drawing small patterns to try and distract you. You don’t fucking deserve the kindness.

You tighten your arms around him, afraid that he’ll slip away just like everything else has. “This is all my fault.”

“You’re crazy if you think that.”

“I was… I was in over my head.” A few tears slip out and you don’t bother to wipe them away. Instead, you bury your head deeper into Jonathan’s chest, ashamed. “This entire time, I should’ve–I needed to be better and I–I wasn’t, bee.”

Your words slur together as more tears come, but Jonathan is able to understand you regardless. He slides a hand up and under your chin, gently coaxing your head up so that he can look you in the eye. “None of this is your fault. You hear me?”

“But–”

“No. Without you, those boys would probably be dead by now. Nancy and I included. You’re the glue holding everything together, you know more than anyone else involved.”

Jonathan’s eyes burn yours, he’s so sure of his words but you know they aren’t true. You pull away from him and try to collect yourself. “There’s an entire swat team ready to hurt my baby brother… I fucked up, Jonathan.”

“Still up for debate, but if you really feel that way, then I’ll help you fix it. It’s as simple as that.” Jonathan shrugs, saying the words so simply, without any doubt or hesitation. He has such confidence in you, and you know he shares the same thought that you do: together, the two of you can do anything.

You think about your birthday gift from Will, with you and Jonathan battling a dragon together with the boys, and the thought brings you comfort. Together, you and the boys will get through this one way or another. You’re sure of that much, at least.

Plus, you have El and Nancy now.

You wipe away a few more tears and manage a smile, now feeling a bit better “Thank you, bee.”

He smiles back at you and ruffles your hair. “Any time, bug.”

The moment between you is broken by Hopper throwing Nancy into the backseat, cruelly bringing you back to reality. The boys, they’re in danger. Hopper turns to face the three of you with a crazed look in his eyes. “Look, we need to find them before they do.”

“The kids?” You stupidly ask.

“No, we’re looking for Santa’s reindeer.” Hopper deadpans, which you honestly had coming. “Yes, the kids. Do you have any idea where they might have gone?”

“No, I don’t!” Nancy still looks shaken up and you and Jonathan don’t look much better.

“I need you to think.” Hopper presses.

Nancy lets out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know. We haven’t talked a lot. I mean… lately.”

“What about you, Y/N?” Joyce asks, her voice a bit more gentle than Hopper’s.

You wrack your brain for where the kids may have gone, but with all your exhaustion and overwhelming feelings, you can’t come up with anything. Your brain is fried. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Byers.”

“Is there any place that your guys’ parents don’t know about that they might go?”

You and Nancy look at each other for ideas, but you both end up drawing a blank and shake your heads at Joyce. She sighs, but seems to be more understanding. You really wish you could be of more use, but besides Mike’s house, the kids don’t really go anywhere except…

“The junkyard!” You exclaim, throwing yourself forward in your excitement.

“What?” Hopper asks, his interest now is on you.

“The boys went there yesterday with El, they had a fight and–”

Hopper cuts you off. “I don’t need the petty details, just tell me where this junkyard is.”

“I… can’t.” You deflate now, realizing that you have no idea how to access this damn random field in Hawkins. It’s not really an official junkyard, just an area with leftover cars and trash piled up over the years. The boys have never taken you there, it had been the one spot they’d kept all to themselves.

“You can’t?” The man questions, his usual annoyance with you is present once again.

Before an inevitable argument breaks out, Jonathan speaks up. “I don’t know what Y/N is talking about, but I think I know how to ask the kids.”

–

When you get to Jonathan’s to look for Will’s walkie, you’re a bit car sick from Hopper’s damn speeding. You get that this is an urgent matter, but holy shit you feel ill.

You, Jonathan, Joyce, and Nancy hop out the car and start heading towards Will’s room. Jonathan and Joyce guide the way and you’re right behind them until you see Nancy stop in the living room.

“Woah,” she breathes out, examining the room around her. You forget that she’s only been a part of your life for a few days now and hasn’t yet seen the state of chaos that is Jonathan’s house.

“Yeah, welcome to the Byers home.” You say, grabbing her hand to tug her along.

When you get to Will’s room, Jonathan is digging through his drawers while Joyce is on the floor searching underneath his bed. You immediately walk over to the closet and begin sifting through his numerous boxes of comics and drawings.

“I got it!” Joyce announces from under the bed and scrambles into the living room with the walkie in her hand.

You follow after her and sit next to her on the couch. Jonathan stands next to you while Nancy is on your right and Hopper is by the door. Joyce fiddles with the walkie. “Okay, now what?”

“I’ll talk to them.” Nancy says, but you shake your head at her.

“No offense, but I think they’ll respond to me better. I mean, they like me.” Hopper snorts across the room and you close your eyes. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

Nancy bites her lip but eventually nods, thankfully understanding what you meant. “Yeah, okay. You should go first, then. They’ve always listened to you more than me.”

Joyce hands you the walkie and you thank her. You look at Hopper and hold the walkie up. “Anything I should specifically say?”

“No, just find out where they are and we’ll go from there.” He commands.

You nod and take a deep breath, silently praying that the idiots will respond both for your own sanity and pride. Exhaling, you bring the walkie to your lips. “Dustin, it’s Y/N. Do you copy?”

Silence, no one responds on the other end and you feel everyone’s eyes on you. “They’re paranoid right now, okay?”

Joyce reassures you that it’s fine while Hopper groans, unimpressed. You silently curse Dustin, who would choose right now to embarrass you and not listen.

You take another deep breath and try again. “Hello? Earth to Dustin and co? Guys, it’s me and I really need you to respond. Immediately. I will start crying if I need to.”

Again, more silence follows. You want to scream and throw the walkie across the damn room, but you keep your composure and try one last time and square your shoulders. You’re aware of Jonathan and the others in the room with you, so you’re dreading having to say this, but you know it’s the only way to get them to respond. ”Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and possibly El: what you’re about to hear is private and so incredibly embarrassing but obviously I have to prove that I’m me so you idiots respond.”

Jonathan’s eyes widen. “You’re not really going to confess to–”

You shush him and keep talking. “Dustin, remember when mom told you that Mews peed on my bed and that’s why I had to stay in your room for the night last year? Well, surprise! It was me. I peed the bed because I had a nightmare after you made me watch Friday the 13th.”

Nancy makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a laugh covered up by a cough and Joyce herself stifles a laugh. Hopper doesn’t even try to hide his laugh and you just really wish the ground would swallow you up. All Jonathan can do is offer you a pitying smile. This is fucking mortifying.

And yet: no one answers.

You let out a frustrated groan. “Listen to me! Either you answer or I have a very annoyed and rude Hopper who would be more than glad to interrogate you boys himself. This is your last chance–”

“Ya know, you really should’ve just used Hopper as a threat from the start. We would’ve listened.” Mike’s voice comes through the walkie, causing you to sigh out with relief.

“Yeah, now we know you peed your pants at fifteen.” Lucas adds.

Then Dustin’s voice carries through. “I’m ashamed to be related to you, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Dustin. You’ve always had my back.”

Hopper takes the walkie from you and heads towards his car while demanding directions from Mike. He leaves without saying another word to everyone else, simply leaving you with Joyce, Nancy, and Jonathan to wait for his return with the kids.

You wring your hands together, unsure what to do in this situation. So, you do what’s familiar to you; you take care of those around you. “Mrs. Byers, do you still have my baking supplies here?”

–

Steve was having a rough week.

It started with finding you crying in the middle of the road while you were on your bike. At first, he hadn’t been sure it was you, but as you had biked closer and almost hit him, he knew then that you were indeed Y/N Henderson. When you swerved into a ditch to avoid hitting him, Steve did what any rational person would do.

He helped you.

You had been hesitant of him at first, nervous and guarded and Steve couldn’t blame you. Up until then, the two of you hadn’t had the best interactions. He’d always seen you around in the hallways at school, knew about your obsession with comics and Spider-Man, and he knew how kind you could be and had witnessed first hand how devoted you were to helping anyone you could, regardless of who they were.

When Steve was in eighth grade and you were in seventh, Carol had bled through her pants and Tommy had been laughing at her and calling her disgusting. Steve hadn’t been much better, honestly, the two of them had reacted how any other idiotic thirteen year olds would. When Carol started to cry, Steve finally felt bad and told Tommy to knock it off and help his girlfriend. It started a whole argument between the two of them, but as they were bickering you swooped in and offered to escort Carol to the bathroom.

He had watched as you delicately took the girl’s hand and said something soft and kind to her as you guys walked to the bathroom. A lanky boy, who had been with you, told you he’d wait by your bike while you were with Carol. You thanked him and then you were gone, the door to the girl’s bathroom closing behind you.

“Who was she?” Steve remembers asking Tommy. He’d been curious about you and your actions, because not even ten minutes before Carol had bled through her pants, she had been making fun of your scuffed sneakers in the lunchroom. She’d been especially viscous back then, and yet you hadn’t hesitated to help her.

“Y/N Henderson. She’s new, moved here a few weeks ago.”

Steve had kept watching the bathroom door, hoping to catch another glimpse of you. “And the boy?”

“Jonathan Byers.” Tommy snickered. “Poor family, complete nobodies. Guess Henderson likes a pity project.”

“Yeah. Guess so.” The door still hadn’t opened, so Steve sighed and motioned to Tommy to follow him. “C’mon, my mom hates waiting for us.”

So, yeah. Your very first interaction with Steve had been you watching him make fun of a poor girl experiencing her first ever period.

Not a very good first impression.

Ever since then, Steve had kept an eye on you. Maybe not consciously, but you’d always been in his peripheral. He’d seen all the times you helped someone, from teachers to the local stoner kid, Eddie Munson, who needed a pen for his exam so you’d given him your only one and ultimately couldn’t take your own exam. Steve had always wanted to ask if you regretted that, but he was sure you’d say no. It’s just what you did.

He watched as you and Byers grew closer, almost inseparable, and Steve decided that eventually the two of you would get together and live happily ever after. When your hair grew a bit longer and your scuffed sneakers turned into pretty mary janes, Steve figured it’d happen in no time.

Then Will disappeared and Steve had found you crying in a ditch after almost hitting his car with your bike, and everything seemed to change. He wasn’t exactly sure what, but he knew he wanted to make you smile. He’d never been alone with you before and he felt bad about Will; he knew how close you were with him, so he cracked a few jokes, pretended not to know who you were, and then you smiled at him for the very first time.

A real, true, beautiful smile that had left Steve breathless for a moment.

God, then you laughed and Steve swore he’d never heard something more genuine and pure. He had felt like a little kid on Christmas day, giddy over the fact that he had made you laugh at his stupid joke.

Immediately Steve was addicted. He vowed then and there to do whatever he could to help you, to get you to laugh and smile and flash him that annoyed look that seemed to make your eyes reflect everything good and lovely.

So he did.

Steve had helped you out of the ditch and watched as you biked away, lingering until he was sure you’d be safe. He had invited you to his house for a party, figuring that maybe you’d enjoy a distraction from life. Sure, you had rebuffed him pretty harshly, but he had deserved it. He had been an ass to Byers.

But then Byers had taken pictures of his naked girlfriend and Steve’s world had felt like it’d been flipped upside down. How dare he? Byers was yours, everyone knew that. Hell, the entirety of Hawkins knew that. Why the fuck would he need to take pictures of Nancy, his Nancy, when he already had you? Not only was it creepy and invasive, but it was a major offense to someone as selfless as you.

Logically, Steve had to retaliate, it just wasn’t okay. He had told Tommy the plan and then before he knew it he ended up waiting by Byers’ car to confront him, and then alongside him had been you. Of course you’d been with him. Steve should’ve expected that.

He hadn’t wanted for you to get dragged into it so aggressively, but he also had to tell you the truth. Steve knew there was no way in hell that Byers had told you about the photos, so he had to be the one to break the news before anyone else could. It had killed him to see you so upset.

When Tommy threw you onto the ground, all Steve felt was rage. You weren’t supposed to be the one getting hurt, and yet somehow you were. It enraged him that he couldn’t do more to help, but before he knew it you were on the ground and he had rushed over to help.

He doesn’t remember much else that had happened next, but when your back pressed against his chest to avoid Byers, Steve had felt his heart flutter a bit. Again, he had felt like a little kid on Christmas day, giddy and excited and warm. You had needed him at that moment, so Steve helped.

“See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hard-wired into them. They just can’t help themselves.” He had placed his hand on your shoulder, a risky move he had been afraid would scare you away, but you stayed; you had been warm underneath his touch.

Steve hadn’t meant to break the camera, honest. It just kind of happened, his brain had been muddled by your presence. He felt bad about it, but Tommy had whooped all impressed and Carol had encouraged him on, so he had to pretend that it hadn’t bothered him.

But it had.

It had really, really bothered Steve.

He just wanted to help, to defend you, and yet he had gone too far. And he had felt awful about it.

So, when he had spotted you once again biking on the road, struggling up a massive hill the next day, Steve had figured that this was his chance to make it up to you. He thought that if he had offered you a ride, the two of you could talk. When you accepted, Steve had happily thrown your bike in the back and felt so fucking relieved. There was still a chance.

Then the two of you engaged in the banter that made Steve feel so alive and he knew that it’d all be okay, it had to be. He had teased you, gotten you to blush and laugh once more, and Steve felt like he was on top of the world being able to offer you some type of relief from the news of Will’s death. He had helped you, if even for a little while.

Somehow he had ended up confessing to you that he had been trying to make you laugh a few days prior, having pretended not to know your name. “Figured you wouldn’t want to talk about it and the least I could do was make you laugh. And voila, I did.”

He’ll always remember the shocked expression on your face, the way your eyes softened for a moment with vulnerability and Steve had found himself wanting to lean in closer to see if he could make you blush an even prettier red. He had refrained, though (barely).

But his good mood vanished when you had berated him about breaking Byers’ camera, which he had to admit was a selfish move on his end. He had already felt bad about it, but to hear you remind him that Byers didn’t have the money that Steve did, it hurt in a way he hadn’t been familiar with.

And yet, like you always seem to do to Steve, you had completely turned his mood around with only a few words.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

Your words had hit Steve harder than he would've ever thought possible. No one had ever told him that, not even his mother who always insisted on calling him her beautiful boy. Everyone always called Steve various names such as King Steve, the King, Steve “the hair” Harrington, and every possible way to complement his appearance, but no one had ever told him he was a good person.

You had called him “alright”, and those words had been on his mind for the rest of the day, creating a new warmth in his chest every time he thought them. You, Y/N Henderson, had thought Steve was “alright.”

It felt like he had won the goddamn lottery.

Until Nancy started acting weird and ditching plans with him for some mysterious “project”, which sucked. He hadn’t been sure what he did, but he was sure he’d done something to offend the girl. He always managed to do something to hurt those closest to him.

Imagine his surprise when he had driven to Nancy’s and spotted you, glowing in the moonlight and lovely as ever, looking for the girl as well. Pretty fucking convenient, huh? Something was up, Steve could feel it.

And boy, was he right.

There Byers had been, his arm draped over his girlfriend, sitting side by side in her bed without a singular care for the people they were hurting in the process. Typical.

Again Steve had felt that anger deep within him, the same anger from when he saw those pictures of Nancy, because how dare Byers? There you had been, standing underneath Steve, worried about Nancy because you’re the best damn person he’s ever met, and yet Byers had been abusing your kindness and trust for his own gain.

No.

Steve was livid.

“You deserve better, Y/N.” He regrets yelling at you and pushing you away, but Steve had been so overwhelmed with his anger. You deserved everything and more, why couldn’t anyone else see that? Why was Steve the only one who could see this?

Hell, anyone could hurt Steve. He wouldn’t care, he always deserved it in the end. He wasn’t nice or good or worth kindness, but you? Hurting someone like you, someone as selfless and wonderful and genuine, was goddamn unacceptable.

Steve did the only thing he knew: he had to hurt Byers and Nancy for hurting you.

So he did.

And fuck, Steve really wished that he hadn’t, because now he’s standing underneath the Hawk’s sign with a black eye and a bleeding lip and really wishing that you were here to remind him that he’s a good person.

He also really hopes that you still believe this.

Steve had only been trying to help you, to get you to see your own worth and recognize how much of an ass Byers and Nancy were to you. But you had run away, back to that asshole, and Steve had been left to clean up his own mess.

“Need a hand?” Steve calls up to Byers’ boss, who is on a ladder trying to scrub off the cruel spray painted taunts of Nancy.

The man looks down at Steve, his face twisting into a sneer. “Did you have something to do with this?”

Steve sighs, “I just… I wanna help.”

Maybe it’s his black eye or the pathetic way Steve says he wants to help, but the man comes down the ladder and hands him the dirty rag he had been using. “All yours.”

Steve takes his jacket off and accepts the rag and climbs up, ready to get to work. He really does want to help, he has been trying to help.

And Steve just really hopes that you can see his efforts someday, maybe even soon.

He’s had a really rough week.

–

The cookies only take you thirty minutes to make, which is way before Hopper is expected to be back with the kids, so you awkwardly hand out a plate of them to Joyce, Jonathan, and Nancy before sitting in between the teens and pulling out a comic.

Nancy hesitantly takes a bite, but her uncertainty melts into bliss. “Oh my god, these are delicious.”

“Y/N makes the best oatmeal raisin cookies, they’re insane.” Jonathan says with a mouthful of his own cookies.

“Thanks,” you say, flicking through the pages of your comic and trying to remember where you last left off. You keep an assortment of comics between Jonathan’s house and Nancy’s basement just in case you’re ever left with a need for one. Thankfully you’ve always planned ahead, because this latest issue of Spidey keeps you distracted as you wait for Hopper and the kids.

You’re doing your best to keep your anxiety at bay, but it’s hard. Baking has always calmed you, though tonight you’re still left feeling jittery. You’ve never been a patient person.

No one speaks as you wait, the clock on the Byers’ wall ticks away at a maddeningly slow pace. You try to focus on your comic, but it’s useless. Eventually you give up and flop your head onto Jonathan’s shoulder, frustrated and anxious.

The second you hear Hopper’s car pull into the driveway you sprint off the couch and run straight towards Dustin. He’s in your arms before he’s even had a chance to fully get out of the car. “Geesh, Y/N!”

You ignore his complaining and hold onto him tightly. He’s alive and safe and whole. Thank god.

Nancy does the same with Mike. “I was so worried about you!”

“Yeah, uh… me too?” Her brother mumbles back.

You snort at him and reluctantly pull away from Dustin to only then pull Lucas into a hug, which he hadn’t been expecting. You squeeze the other boy tight. “Where the hell did you guys run off to this time?”

Before they can explain, you see Nancy eyeing El and you immediately rush over to the girl and engulf her into a hug as well. You haven’t seen her in ages, you’ve missed her and she looks a mess. “El! God, look at you!”

“Is that my dress?” Nancy asks.

You inspect El’s dress and realize that yes, it is indeed an old dress of Nancy’s. You raise an eyebrow at the boys, silently asking for an explanation.

Dustin smiles and gives you a thumbs up. “Who’s ready for an update?”

–

All you’ve managed to learn tonight is that Will is the only one in the group with any artistic abilities.

Mike has drawn a horrible recreation of what Mr. Clark had explained to them at the funeral a few days ago, the whole tale about the flea and the acrobat. While the boy is explaining the situation to everyone else, all you do is wonder how the hell he couldn’t even draw a straight line.

“Okay, so in this example, we're the acrobat. Will and Barbara, and that monster, they’re this flea.” Mike points to below the line he’s so poorly drawn. “And this is the Upside Down, where Will is hiding.”

You’re sitting in between Jonathan and Joyce on the couch and notice their confused faces, causing you to sigh. “Oh, just wait.”

Mike glares at you but continues with his explanation. “Mr. Clark said the only way to get there is through a rip of time and space.”

“A gate.” Dustin adds.

“That we tracked to Hawkins Lab.” Lucas then finishes.

“Don’t forget the compasses.” You mumble, trying your best not to butt in too much. You’re not really sure how much you should disclose about the fact that you’ve been in on the boy’s adventure without informing the literal cop who is in the room.

Hopper, who is seated across from you, narrows his eyes at you.

Yeah. Best not to push it.

“Right, the compasses.” Dustin leans in closer to everyone to make sure they understand what he’s about to say. “The gate has a really strong electromagnetic field, and that can change the directions of a compass needle.”

“Is this gate underground?” Hopper now speaks up, though his eyes are still on you. El softly responds with a “yes” and the man doesn’t look too happy.

“Near a large water tank?”

“Yes,” El says softly again.

“You’ve been there.” You conclude, now holding onto Hopper’s gaze. Seems like you weren’t the only person keeping secrets, then.

Hopper doesn’t break eye contact. “Yes, I have. And you’ve been playing double agent.”

You shrug. “Didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”

“You should’ve told the police, kid.”

“Like you would’ve believed me.”

“You let these kids run off on their own, does it really matter what I would’ve believed if I had known they’d be in danger?”

You can feel your anger beginning to resurface. You’ll never admit it to anyone, but Hopper manages to bring out an anger within you that only your father could do before. Facing him, you feel like a ten year old again screaming against her father. “I did what I could! I’d never intentionally bring them harm. Don’t ever imply otherwise again.”

“Y/N, Hopper, now isn’t the time.” Joyce interrupts, her face ashen. You feel your anger drain from you as it’s replaced with guilt. She’s right, now isn’t the time for petty arguments with a cop who has a weird vendetta against you.

Joyce then turns to El, her voice shaky and you grab her hand as she speaks. “Is there any way that you could… that you could reach Will? That you could talk to him in this–”

“The Upside Down.” El finishes for her and then gives her own response as a nod.

You notice Nancy nervously picking at her fingers, so you ask El your own question. “What about Barb? Do you think you can find her, honey?”

Nancy gives you a smile and mouths “thank you”; you nod your head at her, understanding.

Again, El nods and you let out a breath of relief. For the first time in days, it feels like you finally have a solid and functional plan. Things are finally starting to all come together and now it isn’t just you who has to glue the pieces down. You have help.

After the conversation you help set up everything El needs to contact Barb and Will. You help Nancy tear a picture of Barb and lay it on the table alongside a picture of Will. Mike has switched his walkie into static and the white noise seems to help the girl focus.

All of you crowd around El at the table, not saying a word. Joyce is seated while you and Jonathan stand behind her, each of you have a hand on her shoulder and she holds onto you both like her life depends on it.

You find yourself holding your breath as El closes her eyes and begins her process of contacting Will. You’re terrified that maybe this time she won’t find him, or worse… She’ll find him, but he’ll be long gone already. You’ve already come so fucking close, you’re worried that your luck will run out soon.

Static fills the air and the lights start to flicker. El opens her eyes; her face falls with despair and you immediately know that something has gone wrong before she even whispers, “I’m sorry.”

Joyce’s hand tightens around yours. “What? W–What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

El begins to cry and her voice breaks. “I can’t find them.

“Shh, it’s okay, honey.” You’re at the girl’s side in a heartbeat, crouched down so that you can look her in the eye as you try to soothe her. “Hey, look at me. You tried your best, it’s okay. I’m right here, my dear.”

While you comfort El, Jonathan comforts his mother. The two of you share a quick glance and through it you’re both able to convey the same message: I’ve got her, take care of the other. Without any other word, you gently guide El to the bathroom and tell her to take some time to herself and that you’ll be there for her when she’s ready.

“Thank you.” She mumbles, tears still in her eyes.

“Of course. Take all the time you need. None of this is your fault, okay? I need you to understand that.”

El nods before she closes the door, but you know she doesn’t believe you. You guess this is how Jonathan had felt earlier in the car when you confessed that everything was your fault and he’d tried reassuring you that it wasn’t. It isn’t easy convincing someone that they haven’t done anything wrong, not when they truly believe that they have.

You hear the faucet running in the bathroom, so you walk over towards the living room to check in on the others. Mike is explaining El’s powers when you catch the tail end of their conversation.

“Like, she flipped a van earlier.”

“El flipped a van?” You ask, staring at the boys in shock.

They all smile at you and Dustin eagerly shakes his head. “Yeah, it was awesome.”

“I left you alone for five hours, Dustin.”

“That was your first mistake.”

Now Mike butts in. “I also jumped off a cliff and El caught me midair with her powers.”

Your jaw drops. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Shut up, Mike.” Lucas nudges him with his shoulder. “What we’re saying is, she’s drained.”

“Like a dead battery.” Dustin confirms.

Joyce looks around helplessly. You know she’s doing everything she can to follow along. “Well… how do we make her better?”

“We don’t.” You say, having known El long enough to notice the limitations to her powers. As far as you’re aware, the only way for her to regenerate her strength is through rest. But who knows, maybe during those five hours you left the kids alone they somehow found a magical crystal that heals El.

Mike nods at you. “Y/N’s right, we don’t. We just have to wait and try again.”

“Well, how long?” Nancy is seated next to Joyce and she looks just as overwhelmed as the woman. Had you not had some time before this with El and the kids, you’d be equally as confused as them.

“I don’t know.” Her brother responds, head ducked in shame.

Suddenly El appears. “The bath.”

You run back over to her side and crouch down once more. “Hey, I told you to tell me when you were ready to come out. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes,” she smiles at you, and though she looks exhausted, you know it’s a genuine smile. “I can find them. In the bath.”

“The bath?” You ask, and later you’ll regret doing this.

–

Dustin is the one who thinks of calling Mr. Clark, though you’re a bit skeptical of the idea.

“It’s late, what if he’s busy?”

Your brother laughs at the idea. “Sure, Mr. Clark will be busy and you’ll have a hot date waiting for you tonight.”

“Dude, harsh.”

He waves you off and dials the teacher’s number and you’re choosing to ignore the fact that it’s inappropriate for Dustin to even have the man’s number. You stand next to him as he takes the call, ready to intervene if needed.

“Mr. Clark? It’s Dustin… Yeah, yeah, I just… I–I have a science question.”

You drop your face into your hands and sigh with disappointment. Smooth, real smooth, Dustin.

“Do you know anything about sensory deprivation tanks?” Dustin’s eyes widen and he quickly looks over at you, covering the phone so that he can frantically whisper, “he asked why!”

“Why are you looking at me?” You whisper back, equally at a loss for what to tell the man.

“You’re no help!” Your brother whispers back, rolling his eyes at you before returning to the phone. “Sorry, technical difficulties. Anyways, we need to know for… fun.”

Again you facepalm and Jonathan, who is standing behind you, rubs your shoulders to relieve some of your stress. You relax against him and remind yourself to calm down. Dustin can handle this, he’s always been better at this stuff than you have; he was practically made for this life of lying and mischief. You were made for cookies and comics.

There’s a pause on the other end of the line and you can faintly hear Mr. Clark ask to talk about the topic later, preferably after a school day, but Dustin insists. “You always say we should never stop being curious. To always open any curiosity door we find… Why are you keeping this curiosity door locked?”

The demanding tone causes you to stifle a laugh and you feel Jonathan doing the same. Yeah. Dustin was made for this.

Mr. Clark and your brother discuss the details of the tank for a while so you wander over towards the table and sit down. You hand Dustin a piece of paper and a pencil so that he can write down important information and flick through a comic as you wait.

As soon as he hangs up, Dustin throws the phone down and turns towards Joyce. “Do you still have that kiddie pool we bobbed for apples in?”

“A kiddie pool?” You ask at the same time Joyce responds, “Yeah, I think so?”

“Good. Then we just need salt. Lots of it.”

“I’m sorry, salt?”

You’re ignored once again as Hopper asks how much salt is needed. Dustin looks down at his notes and bites his lip. “1,500 pounds.”

“What the fuck…” You mutter under your breath, completely exasperated by the entire situation. A kiddie pool and 1,500 fucking pounds of salt? No. This is where you draw the line. You can handle monsters and alternate dimensions, but a kiddie pool full of salt to create a sensory deprivation tank is just too much. It’s your breaking point. “My life isn’t real.”

–

Somehow, amidst the diverging of groups to tackle everything needed to make El’s tank, you end up with Nancy in the shed at Hawkins Middle. You’re really not sure how it happened but one minute you were with Jonathan and Joyce, the next you’re in a shed with the girl you have very conflicted feelings over.

Mike is standing outside the door while you and Nancy struggle to grab the hoses from the shelf. The things are surprisingly heavy so it takes the two of you to get them down. You grunt as you throw a third one down into a barrel. “God, what do these things eat?”

Nancy chuckles. “No clue, but I’m sure Jonathan and Hopper are having a better time with all those salt bags.”

“Touché.” Then both of you are quiet again as you continue working.

“So… what’s up with you and Jonathan?” Nancy suddenly asks, which causes you to drop the hose you’d been holding.

“Shit!” You bend down to pick it back up, though you also do it to try and compose yourself because what the fuck. “And nothing. There’s nothing going on between us.”

Nancy frowns. “Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want you to think I’m intruding or anything.”

“Intruding?”

“I mean… shit, I don’t know how to word this.” She fumbles with her own hose. “I just– I want you to know that you have nothing to worry about.”

You know she means well, but Nancy’s words only upset you for a multitude of reasons. “Nancy, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but why does it matter?”

“Why does what matter?”

“How I feel about Jonathan. I mean, you’re with Steve. He’s your boyfriend, there shouldn’t be any reason for me to worry about you and my best friend.”

Nancy looks down at the ground. “You’re right, but it’s not like that. Nothing happened between Jonathan and I last night. I promise, I know he’s yours and–”

“You know, I’m really fucking sick of everyone trying to tell me what Jonathan and I are.” You spit out.

Nancy flinches. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Let’s just focus on the task at hand, okay?” The girl nods and places the last hose into the barrel, but there’s something that’s been on the back of your mind for a while. “Look, I know you mean well and I’m sorry for being so mean, but… Cheating is something I can’t get behind.”

“I’d never cheat–”

“I know, but a word of advice? Figure out your own feelings before you hurt those closest to you.” Nancy’s frown deepens and you sigh. “Don’t tell him I said this, but even though Steve can be an asshole, he’s still a good guy. He’s already really hurt over seeing you with Jonathan. I just… I don’t want to see him get hurt again, it wouldn’t be fair.”

“Didn’t know you had a soft spot for him.” Nancy says, a hint of something else within her voice.

“Believe me, I don’t, but it sucks knowing that the person you love may love someone else.”

“Woah, I don’t think he loves me–”

“Maybe not yet, but he’s starting to. So again, I urge you to figure out what you want before more people get hurt. Jonathan included. He’s my best friend, Nancy.” You take a deep breath and will yourself to be vulnerable. “Regardless of whatever I may feel for him, he deserves to be happy. You need to figure out your feelings before you’re in too deep. Okay? He’s been through enough to last a lifetime and he’s the best damn guy in this hellhole of a town.”

Nancy swallows and for a moment you think she’s going to refute you, but instead she straightens her posture and gives you a curt nod. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You finish up in the shed in silence. Once you’re done you wheel the barrel out and motion for Mike to follow. “Here, can you take this? I’m going to go check on Dustin.”

Mike makes a face. “I mean, I guess, but–”

You quickly hand the kid the barrel and run back inside the school. You’re a shaking mess from your conversation with Nancy and you need to get away from her as quickly as possible. The conversation replays over and over in your head and each time it’s like a punch. Were you too harsh? Have you revealed too much to her?

Whatever, you don’t have time to dwell on it.

You run back into the school and slam the door behind you.

–

It takes a while to set everything up within the gym. You help Mike hold the hoses as Jonathan and Nancy turn the water on. Lucas holds a thermometer and monitors the water’s temperature and when it’s time, you use your new switchblade to tear open the bags of salt alongside Jonathan and Hopper. Every five bags or so, Dustin drops an egg into the pool to check the buoyancy.

It’s a team effort, but eventually the eggs begin to float and you breathe out with relief. One task down, a million more to go.

Mike switches on the walkie and you help El put on her tapped goggles. Once everything is ready, you hold her hand as she carefully steps into the water. When she’s fully in, you step away and sit down between Jonathan and Nancy, a position you somehow always find yourself in.

As soon as El begins to float in the water, the lights start to flicker before completely shutting off. You feel the static that always seems to accompany her powers. No one moves, too scared to break El out of her concentration.

You wait for a few minutes, uneasy. You’ve never actually seen El’s power in action besides when she made your comic book fly up in the air, so you’re unsure what to do while you wait. Then, faintly, El mumbles, “Barbara.”

Nancy jolts to life and leans in closer to the girl. The lights flicker once more but this time you see El’s body tremble with fear.

“What’s going on?” Nancy asks you.

“I don’t know. I think… I think she’s scared.”

“Scared? I–” Nancy leans even closer to El now. “Is Barb okay? Is she okay?”

You pull Nancy back, not wanting to overwhelm El, but it’s too late. The poor girl trembles even more and repeatedly mumbles “gone” until her voice raises and she begins to cry out. Nancy starts to cry and you motion for Joyce to hold El while you handle Nancy.

Joyce reaches over to comfort the girl and you pull Nancy into your arms as she cries. “I’m so sorry, Nancy.”

She cries harder and you tighten your arms around her. All your anger towards the girl from your conversation from earlier has faded. Barb, Nancy’s dearest friend, is gone. You can’t imagine how she’s feeling right now. If you ever lost Jonathan… God, a piece of you would die.

Eventually Nancy manages to calm down and pulls away with a soft “thank you”, but you keep your hand around hers as you pay attention again. You know she’s embarrassed about her reaction, but you don’t blame her for a second. Later, after all of this, you’ll make sure to check up on her.

“Will?”

You hear Jonathan gasp next to you and he grasps at your free hand. You sit there in shock and feel your heart swell. Tears lump in your throat at the confirmation of Will being alive. Will, beautiful and sweet Will, is alive.

You squeeze Jonathan’s hand and the two of you look at each other. There’s tears in his eyes as well and you both let out a slight chuckle of disbelief. After this horrible week, everything that you’ve been through together to find Will, finding out that he’s alive by each other’s side only seems fitting.

“Tell him… Tell him I’m coming. Mom is coming.” Joyce instructs El, strength returning to her voice.

The walkie sparks to life with Will’s voice. “Hurry.”

You choke back a sob. “Little bee,”

Jonathan squeezes your hand again and you rest your head against his shoulder, completely sagging with relief. He’s here. He’s real and he’s alive and he’ll be in your arms once again soon.

“Okay, listen. You tell him to… To stay where he is.” Joyce is speaking with an urgency now as she hovers over El. “We’re coming. We’re coming, okay? We’re coming, honey.”

The sweet moment is ruined by the walkie’s intense static. El quickly sits up and tears her goggles off and begins to panic. She flings herself into Joyce’s embrace and you hurry over to console her as well. She’s just a little girl, she’s been through so much for someone so young.

You kiss her forehead the way Jonathan always does to you. “You did so well, El. I’m so, so proud of you. You’re incredible, okay? We’ve got you, you’re safe with us.”

Joyce echoes your words and the two of you hold tightly onto El as she cries. You look over at Nancy, who is staring off into space with her own despair in her eyes, and you feel such an intense wave of hurt hit you. You’re all so young. The kids are all huddled together in shock. None of this is fucking fair.

–

You opt to stay behind with the kids on the bleachers as Jonathan, Joyce, and Hopper discuss what to do next. Nancy has walked away, presumably to grieve, so you give her the same she desires.

El shivers, so you tighten the towel around her. Lucas rubs her arms to try and warm her up as well, something that brings a faint smile to your face. You guess the two of them sorted out their differences, then. Good. El needs more friends like Lucas in her life if she’s going to continue hanging around Dustin and Mike. They’re insensible, but Lucas isn’t so bad.

Dustin’s stomach rumbles and he lets out a sheepish laugh. “Sorry, ignore that.”

“Oh!” You gasp, suddenly remembering the cookies you packed in your bag. You had grabbed them before leaving Jonathan’s, figuring the kids hadn’t eaten all day. “Here, made these fresh today. You all get three, that’s it.”

The boys fight over who gets one first and you leave them to sort it out themselves. You roll your eyes at them; they’re such heathens. You focus your attention back to El, who remains pressed against your side. “Hey, honey. How are you feeling?”

“Tired,”

“Hmm, I think I can understand why.” You grab a cookie while the boys aren’t looking and offer one to El. “Have you ever had an oatmeal raisin cookie?”

She shakes her head.

“Ah, well then you’re in for a treat. You see, I’m kinda known for my cookies. Everyone loves them, see?” You point towards the boys, who are about to start throwing punches over the biggest piece, and El giggles.

Your heart brightens at the sound. “Here you go, try it.”

She accepts the cookie and takes a tiny bite. As she chews, her eyes lighten and she lets out a quiet “yum”.

“‘Yum’ indeed.” You agree with a smile.

Eventually the kids settle down and eat their own cookies in silence. You figure that the events from today have finally caught up to them, so you eat your own cookies in peace. You’re content to sit with them for a bit, relieved to have all your boys with you safe and sound. You’ve missed them.

Once you’re done eating, you wipe your hands off and gently nudge El aside. “Sorry, honey. I should go check on Jonathan. I’ll be back in a sec.”

She nods at you and moves so that you’re able to get up.

“Where you going?” Dustin asks with his mouth full.

You make a face at him. “Dude, don’t talk with your mouth full. You know mom hates that.”

He sticks his tongue out at you and you roll your eyes. “I’m going to go find Jonathan. Make sure no one leaves, alright?”

Your brother salutes you and you salute back before heading towards the gym doors. You’re about to open the doors, but then you see Jonathan sitting with Nancy against the wall through the glass panel.

You freeze, unsure if you should interrupt them. They seem to be deep in a private conversation, Nancy’s face is twisted with so many emotions you feel almost guilty for looking in. Like you’re intruding on something.

Then again, it always feels like you’re intruding when you’re with them lately.

Is this really what you want?

Your hand hovers over the door handle and for a moment you think you’ll pull it open, but you don’t. Instead, you turn around and walk back over to the kids. You’re not sure what you’re feeling as you walk over, but when Dustin sees you he seems to notice a change in your demeanor.

He frowns at you. “Is everything okay?”

“Fine.” You say numbly, sitting down next to him. Your shoulders are stiff, your leg is bouncing up and down.

Dustin looks over towards where you came from and he seems to freeze as well. He looks between you, then Jonathan and Nancy in the hallway, and he exhales. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

You think your brother will leave the topic at that, but he surprises you. He grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze. You look up and see that he’s smiling at you and your heart breaks all over again for an entirely different reason. You look around at Lucas and Mike, who are bickering over the cookies, at El who watches in amusement, and then finally at Dustin who is holding your hand and offering you whatever comfort he can provide you.

Dustin knows you as well as you know him, he can sense a shift in your mood before you even can. He’s here with you, holding your hand because the boy you love has broken your heart once again, and Dustin is doing this without you having to tell him. He just knows, and you love him all the more for it.

You’re surrounded by so much love it takes your breath away for a moment.

You squeeze Dustin’s hand back, so immensely grateful that he’s your brother. “I love you, kid.”

He smiles that wonderful toothless smile that you’ve loved since he was a baby. “I love ya too, sis.”

“Are you two done? Can I ask Y/N for more cookies now?” Mike calls over, though his voice is kinder than usual. You guess that even he has noticed your mood change but doesn’t want to pry.

You wipe your eyes quickly and stand up. “So demanding. Let me check my bag, but I doubt it.”

“I’m your favorite, let’s be honest here.” He responds, trying to get you to laugh.

It works. “Sure, buddy.”

You walk over to your bag and rustle around, but you know there’s none left. You’re just thankful for the distraction, and you have a sneaking suspicion that this had been Mike’s plan all along. You look up and see him staring at you with a concerned look in his eyes and your heart swells even more.

You’re so surrounded by love; sometimes it feels like you’re even drowning in it.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3

[aceyanaheim]

So I've been trying really hard not to make this post but I've found myself in a really bad situation.

As you all know I recently moved out of my mom's for what I'm hoping is permanent. The original plan was to move to MIami with my qpp and platonic polycule and use the time I had with them to find a job in my field in Miami or at least one that would make living here sustainably. 

This ended up not working out. I’m not gonna go into details but the bare bones of it is this: I had to safety plan my way around my ( now ex) qpp’s fiancee and at one point got on an uber and left the apartment because things escalated to a point where I no longer felt emotionally safe around her. She then talked to the leasing office and I was moved without any warning and against my will. 

I’m now in a new apartment with a new roommate who doesn’t drive me to tears for forgetting things but needless to say my relationships and plans for the future are more or less in free fall right now. 

Moving with my mom or dad’s isn’t an option as the last time I stayed at my mom’s I was constantly on a hotline so I’m trying to crowdfund for a car. Miami is incredibly high in rent and it’s taken two jobs to barely make ends meet. It’s come to the point where a car isn’t just for transportation but for survival. 

If I manage to stay here, which is unlikely, a car will mean more job opportunities as I’m really limited in finding jobs right now. It’ll help me not sink too much money on Ubers which will make it easier to pay rent and also doctors appointment ( as I'm epileptic)

If the worst happens and I have nowhere to go a car will mean shelter for me and Indi ( she has to come with me wherever I go and a lot of places I could bunk at might not be dog friendly) even if I find somewhere to go if I can’t renew my lease a car would be the only way to get me and Indi there since she isn't allowed on public transit and Ubers Have turned me away because of her.

Even if I end up bunking at my mom’s ( tho I refuse to go there for longer than a week) having a car would greatly reduce me relapsing into unhealthy coping since I’ll have a way to leave the house when my brain gets bad. 

All options lead to the fact that I need a car for survival. I talked to some friends and we figured out for a used car that I would at least want to have 10 thousand. There’s also driving lessons which at the cheapest will still run me over 200 and the license will be 50 but I could swing that. The car is the main thing I need help with.

My parents are both…only sometimes supportive ( the last time I talked to my dad about living with him he said “We’d both hate each other and it’d be your fault” not only that but they’re both disabled and in their 60s so they aren’t an option even when they want to be. My siblings are also striking out on their own and don’t have anything to spare and that’s all the family I have in the states so it’s gotten to the point where I’ve had to make this post even tho I’ve really tried not to.  

If you’re in strife yourself please don’t donate but reblogs help. 

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-a-trans-person-in-miami-secure-a-car-for-safety/cl/s?utm_campaign=fp_sharesheet&utm_content=amp8_t1&utm_medium=customer&utm_source=copy_link&attribution_id=sl%3A2d64a1db-d26d-4d9c-a305-44f9042d5945