#you can do all three if you’re brave enough

[s0urw00lf]

When the bow breaks

Pairings: Dean Winchester x reader / Sam Winchester x reader / Bobby singer x reader

Summary: Sam Dean and Bobby find out that you made a deal and they’re not happy about it

An: this can be read as either a Sam x reader or a Dean x reader or both just platonically also might be a part two I wrote this in a way that it doesn’t need a part two but one could be added

Supernatural masterlist

“Damn it y/n!” Dean shouted at you throwing down his beer, shattering it to pieces. You felt the shards fall against your boots but you didn’t flinch.

Bobby looked at you in disbelief, he marched toward you grabbing your shoulders firmly, almost knocking you off balance “how could you be so damn stupid!? All this time, all we’ve been through together and this is how you decide to go?!” There was fire in his eyes and his facial expression matched.

You knew they’d be angry, but that’s the way it has to be. You just got back from making a deal to bring back Sammy. You put your head down holding back the tears in your eyes “I’m sorry. But I couldn’t let it be one of you” you said.

Dean scoffed, making you lift your head to him. You pulled out of Bobby’s grip rushing towards Dean pushing him, making him go back a few steps. You laughed bitterly “you don’t get to scoff at me like you’re all high and mighty. You know you would’ve done it if I hadn’t”

His gaze hardened “yeah? what makes it okay for you to do it then huh?!” He challenged. “Because I don’t have anything left! All of my family is gone Dean! Sam needs you, you need him and you both need Bobby. It was only fair”

“What do you think we don’t need you too? We’ve known each other since we were teenagers! And been together damn near ever since” deans anger was more scary than Bobby’s. He resembled John a lot when he was angry abt thy was something that still scared your inner teenage self.

You stepped back “I’m sorry Dean, but I can’t see you like that. I won’t.” You shook your head letting the tears fall finally. “And you don’t have to see me like that. I’ll go home. Spend my last moments there like the rest of my family.” Your voice was quiet and broken, not having the ability to keep up the strong voice.

There was a long silence following what you said, nobody dared to speak, or even wanted to but that question loomed over everyone’s head and no one was brave enough to ask it but they had to.

“How long they give you?” Bobby questioned quietly. His gaze wasn’t even on you, as if he couldn’t stand the sight of you and that broke your heart just a little bit.

You looked to Dean contemplation written all over your features. “How long y/n” Dean pressed. You licked your lips “six months”

It was as if all the sound and air had been sucked from the room at your confession. You awaited an outburst from either of the two men but none came. At least not from them.

“You made a deal!” You heard from behind you. Your heart sank at the sound of his voice, you sis t want him to know, or to find out like this but it was too late and you were at the part of no return.

You turned to face the tall man who looked like you just crushed his soul. “Sam I had to” you said in a pleading tone. “Why would you do that- I mean I don’t understand!” He all but shouted.

“Because it was either me or Dean, Sam. With him gone you’d be all broken up! No matter what you say you need each other more than you need me! And maybe it’ll hurt but you’ll still have each other!” You yelled back.

Sam shook his head “that’s not your damn choice to make!”

You scoffed a laugh, “it’s all my choice Sam. Look I don’t know when it’s gonna occur to you guys but I’m a grown woman! I can make my own decisions without you breathing down my neck. And I did I made my chose, live with it damn it!” You shouted at all three men before rushing out of the house.

[incorrect-upon-a-witchlight]

Gricko: what should I get at ihop?

Frost: pancake combo

Gideon: sucked dry

Kremy: killed

Gricko: alright

[falesten-iw]

To Those Who Still Hold Onto a Shred of Morality and Humanity - Stand with Us and Don’t Forget Us.

Over 40,000 lives have been lost, with 70% of them being children and women. Among these numbers are my own family members—many of whom I’ve already lost.

My family, my cousin, aunt, their children, and grandchildren were all directly targeted by Israeli airstrikes. I’m sharing a video of my aunt and cousin to reveal the harsh reality we are facing in Gaza. In this video, my aunt bravely shares her story about how the Israeli army airstruck them along with their children and grandchildren. Even if you don’t understand Arabic, just watching her speak will help you grasp the immense suffering we are enduring in Gaza. You can see the vedeo in this post.

The few family members who remain are in grave danger, and I’m terrified of losing them too. We have a chance to make a real difference and give my 24 surviving family members a chance to live.

In Gaza, jobs are non-existent, and nonprofit organizations like the UN have drastically reduced their work on the ground. Basic necessities such as milk, food, and medicine are almost as expensive as gold. My family is struggling to afford even the essentials, and my mother urgently needs medication that we simply cannot afford.

I’m also sharing another video that shows the daily struggle people face just to get clean water. The suffering here extends far beyond my family; it’s a genocide affecting every aspect of life in Gaza.

Thanks to the generosity of those who have already donated, we’ve raised $535 toward our goal of $190,363- august 17th. I’m deeply grateful to each of you, but we still have a long way to go, and I need your help more than ever. Imagine if it were your family—how would you feel if they were in this situation?

For those who have created special posts or reblogged to amplify my voice, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your support means everything to me and to my family. If you haven’t yet shared our story, please take just one minute to do so. Your voice could be the lifeline my family desperately needs.

You cannot continue to treat human lives as mere numbers. This is a genocide that demands immediate action. How many more should be killed before you all wake up? Will 40,000 lives be enough to stir us to action? 50,000? 100,000? 150,000?

Asking for donations and charity is something we never imagined having to do in Gaza before the war, and it’s heartbreaking that it has come to this. But if everyone who saw my last post donated just $10 or $20, we could reach our goal in no time. If you’re looking for a way to contribute, consider giving up your coffee, tea, or other “cup” for one day, one week, one month, or anything in between. Then, donate what you would have spent to help me. Please help us and donate now!

This is about more than just donations—it’s about preserving human lives and upholding our shared moral values. Your contribution can make a world of difference in our survival and ensure I don’t lose more of the people I love.

Demanding an end to this suffering is a matter of basic humanity. You cannot remain neutral in the face of such genocide. Please, let’s stand together. Enough is enough.

Every donation, no matter how small, brings us closer to hope and healing. Thank you again for your kindness and support. I will never forget it.

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link

Listed even as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link

Important note: ** 105 Swedish kr is just 10$ ** 1050 Swedish kr is just 100$ ** 10500 Swedish kr is just 1000$

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[caamboys]

FUTURE SPOUSE PAC

the dynamic between you both

long time no see guys <333

love reading for 2025 ! 🦪 I pray the reading resonates for anyone who engages.

( unedited )

this is focused solely on your personalities / energy within your relationship, not outside or in general.

PILE ONE

core energy within the dynamic : first love, situationship turned relationship, love coming when you least expect it

Reader within the relationship dynamic

channeled song- “ pretty girls walk this “

“ foreign, private, designer, stylist “

“ I’ll throw a tantrum, now a b*tch’ll get childish “

You’re turning over a new leaf within this relationship, embracing change. You could’ve been single for a while or this is your first relationship, either way you’re inexperienced. You’ll be exploring this relationship and all the aspects of it, embracing the new physical and emotional connection. You move quickly within this dynamic, a very spontaneous energy. You might have a key to their house and pop up randomly on them. You might want to move in quickly.

I see despite you being inexperienced you’re navigating dating them freely and bravely. They make you feel confident enough to date them without being plagued by feelings of paranoia or caution. You’re going into everything headfirst within this dynamic.

Future spouse within the relationship dyanamic

channeled song - “ poison “

“ I’m not above love to cash in “

“ Anyway you want me baby, that’s the way you got me baby, I’ll be yours “

-

This will sound cliche but they’ll be the ideal romantic partner. This is a lover boy / lover girl, a simp if you will. I think prior to your guys' connection they struggled with cold and detached partners, people who never could truly handle their emotional depth and yearning. This will dampen their spirit towards love in general until they meet you. The nonchalant facade will fade, and you renew their passion for love. Your genuineness towards dating and even the naivety you have towards love is shocking to them. You’re a breath of fresh air because you have nothing but good intentions, no ulterior motives in dating. Their ability to give to you is like a bottomless pit. They feel useless if you don’t ask them for anything. Want your hair or nails done? They got it. Want to go somewhere? They’ll take you. Don’t have something you need? They’ll handle it. This is definitely Mr/Mrs. Make it Happen. Gift giving is their ultimate love language to you. It’s funny because they’ll surprise you with something you didn’t even know you wanted. This person will be in a constant internal battle on whether or not they’re doing too much. Some of them want to show you the true depths of their love and just how deeply they can love you but another part of them doesn’t want to scare you off with their intensity. Their solution to this internal struggle would be “ gift giving “, a token of their affection for you that isn’t necessarily showing it in verbal / emotional way and making them feel vulnerable.

Another thing I channeled is the way they gaze at you. Even their stare has another level of intensity and yearning.

PILE TWO

core energies: expansion, extending the lineage, exploration

Reader within the relationship dynamic

( tw : mention of childhood trauma & abuse )

( promise it’s not a sad read just a small section addressed it )

channeled song- “ I wanna be your girlfriend “

“ I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips “

“ I wanna kiss you until I lose my breath”

Pile two you’re never paying for anything in this relationship. It’s giving, show up and look cute and you’ve fulfilled your payment. You don’t pay attention to anything when you’re with this person in public, you’re in your own little world, content and protected. I see you in a very youthful and reckless energy within the dynamic. You may be in college/school right now and living with either roommates or parents during the initial stages of this relationship. This relationship will address and heal a lot of childhood trauma. The main thing I channeled was parental wounds. Perhaps one or both of your parents may have been emotionally absent or abusive, or something happened with a trusted guardian or teacher that formed some sort of trauma at a young age. The one thing I’m getting from this is you’ve carried a lot of burdens that forced you to think / act a lot older than you were. You may have developed a hyper independence from this. This person is going to help you release control to someone else and allow them the opportunity to help you take care of yourself.

One thing about you in this dynamic I’m fond of is your standards. You know what you want, how you wish to be treated and you won’t hesitate to leave. You have very strong boundaries and this comes from a strong self worth. You will advocate for yourself within this relationship, you will voice any opinions you have regardless if they’re positive or negative. If your needs aren’t being met you have no problem communicating it. You’re not aiming to be a people pleaser within this relationship but instead your most authentic self.

Future spouse within the relationship dynamic

channeled song - “ Alone tonight “

“ I don’t wanna be alone tonight, can you keep me company? “

“ My names known worldwide, still need someone in my life “

They’re older than you or they have more life experience or knowledge than you. They will play many roles within your relationship including your partner, protector and teacher. This is a very intellectually charged person. They’re already established within their long term career or pursuing it. They’re the more disciplined and structured individuals in the relationship. When it comes to making plans, scheduling trips or dates they’ll handle it. Look up airport couple on TikTok and you’ll get a glance into your relationship, you’ll turn off your brain in public and they’ll be the vigilant and focused ones. Another scenario I’m channeling for you is them taking you camping. I can imagine them guiding you to build the tent, teaching you how to start and maintain a fire, etc..

They will be the clean freak within the relationship. If you’re more disheveled or messy they’ll be stern about it lol. They will move quickly within the relationship. To you, they plan spontaneous dates but for them, it was already calculated and thought of days ahead of them communicating it. This person has a strong paternal/maternal instinct and it reflects itself in the relationship. They know exactly how to read you emotionally, soothe you, or show up for you way you need. It also shows in their protectiveness. They want to have your location and know your work schedule. This person's protectiveness to you is also because you represent a legacy to them, a new lineage, the chance to build their own family.

The overall energy of this dynamic that I’m channeling is

“ I can do it myself “

“ I know; but I want to do it for you “

PILE THREE

core energies: best-friends, lots of banter and bickering, US VS THE WORLD

Reader within the future relationship dynamic

( yall, I channeled these songs AFTER I did the reading and wrote everything down. CHANNELING THIS SONG WAS SO FUNNYYY TO ME 🤭🤭 the “playfighting “ I mentioned several times below was definitely confirmed lmaooo in no way am I condoning violence but im giggling )

channeled song - “ bust your kneecaps “

“ honey believe me, I have your heart on a platter”

“ they’ll bust your kneecaps, probably some other stuff too “

You try to overpower them. You’re constantly challenging them mentally or physically. You enjoy invoking a reaction from them, getting them super hype during debates or red in the face from play fighting. Prior to the relationship you didn’t like this person, they may have come across as egotistical or arrogant and it irritated you. The kind of person everyone likes and you’re just like “ yeeah okay whatever “. Somehow you two enter a partnership but I think you still have the energy of wanting to take them down a peg, not in a toxic way, moreso the way bestfriends bicker and check each other. That aside, you're very grounded within the relationship. You seem very down to earth, perhaps a humanist or an animal lover. You might have a cat lol. Your energy alone within the dynamic is a constant source of growth for you both. You balance out the love and tension well, dishing it out at the perfect moments. You get cuteness aggression with this person a lot, I think it’s the source for a lot of the banter between you both.

Future spouse within the relationship dynamic

channeled song - “ super shy “

“ I wanna go out with you, where you wanna go? “

“ You don’t even know my name do you? “

They are similar to you, but can be even more immature. They are childish and allow themselves to be free and youthful around you. Within the relationship they might be the reckless one, never scared to cause commotion or be a daredevil. They may have a lot of scars or get hurt easily from this lol. They’re super active, whether in sports or working out but they’ll want to include you in it. You might go on hikes or walks or nature trails with this person, be careful though because they’ll be the type to get you lost lol. They get off on the tension / debating within your relationship. Physical touch is their love language with you, and play fighting with them will be like the ultimate foreplay. They have a big family, friend group, or a lot of external energy around them. I say this because people are naturally drawn and charmed easily by your significant other. I think prior to the relationship you’ll be the one to see past all sweet and nice exterior and into their underlying mischievous side. They may seem like an angel in front of others but you can sense the deception within it, and in turn you don’t treat them like everyone else. This will catch their interest first about you, your seemingly detachment or dislike of them. They will pursue you and seek you out first because of your obvious dislike or disinterest in them and then realize how well you connect mentally.

Communication will flow naturally and honestly I'm getting a sort of telepathic bond between you both. Not literally, moreso you can read each other’s expressions and know what the other is thinking. They can look into your eyes and have an entire conversation with you. They’ll definitely encourage this “telepathic bond”, wanting you both to be in a bubble apart from everyone else.

They’ll honestly recognize you as themselves in another body, you two may think so similarly that you both see each other as extensions of the other if that makes sense. An example I’m channeling is

“ you’re the boy version of me”

“ no, you’re the girl version of me”

PILE FOUR

core energy: breaking barriers and social norms, establishing wealth, breaking generational curses

Reader within the relationship dynamic

channeled song- “ take me to church “

“ knows everybody’s disapproval, I should’ve worshipped her sooner “

“ my lovers got humor, she’s the giggle of the funeral”

You’re in a very successful energy within this relationship. Career wise you are independent and very productive, I channeled booked and busy to be exact. You have very ambitious energy within the relationship towards finances and establishing wealth, part of this is through a stable and healthy partnership. In the past you’ve lowered yourself to meet others levels, within this relationship you stand securely within your power. You wish to combine finances and wealth and build a sustainable legacy for your future generations to come. That aside, you seem to be the more extroverted one in this Dynamic. Even if you’re introverted, people are very fond of you. This will irritate your future spouse because they feel like people are constantly “ orbiting“ around you. You may have a lot of friends or social connections, or just a well known person. You may have a large social media following. People might even think you’re out of your future spouse's league in terms of appearances or finances but you understand that shallow and superficial standards won’t secure a healthy and flourishing life. I’m not getting your future spouse is unattractive, but something about them compared to you is different. They could be nerdier than you, alternative, super spiritual, etc, goth. You may have to defend this person and explain to others you’re not dating this individual for social norms, instead you’re securing a healthy partnership. You will recognize just how well you collaborate and vibe together on an emotional, spiritual and intellectual level. You’re not dating them for them to be your trophy wife/husband, but moreso a soulmate connection that exceeds society's standards. This may also be a same sex connection you’re in.

Future spouse within the relationship dynamic

channeled song - “ money trees “

“ love one of you bucket headed h*es? no way “

“ money trees is the perfect place for shade “

They’re very fulfilled within your relationship. They daydream about starting a family with you. They feel like no one knows you better than them, and it’s something that makes them feel special especially compared to other people around you. In the beginning stages of your relationship I’m seeing your future spouse in a competitive energy with your friends or maybe even family about who is closer to you. This may cause strife within your dynamic, jealous of the attention you give to others and scared of the attention you receive, sometimes making them question whether or not they’re good enough for you. You will realize this very early on in the relationship, recognizing that they put you on a pedestal. Unlike with other people, it may particularly bother you when your future spouse does, you don’t want them to romanticize you like others. You will share with them all the repulsive sides, flaws and shortcomings you have and you will be reborn again in their eyes. This will only make this person love you that much more. “ seeing what no one else gets to see “ is what I’m channeling from them. Your vulnerability will soothe any feelings of abandonment. They will know how special they are to you after you’ve let them see past your surface level and into the depths of who you truly are. This will make them arrogant within your dynamic about their spot in your life, no longer insecure. A random example I channeled is someone offering you a certain snack / food and your future spouse answering for you and telling them “ no, they’re allergic to so and so”. They’re like a walking encyclopedia of you . They know everyone’s connection with you doesn’t nearly go as deep as theirs. They’re a bit obsessive over you, strong Scorpio energy here. You will have a very watchful and observant partner, even when you think they’re not watching, trust me they are. I think prior to this relationship they knew you and liked you, but you didn’t know this. They give me the energy of someone getting into a relationship with their crush. They have tunnel vision when it comes to you, I don’t think anyone could ever tempt your future spouse.

—

[readwritealldayallnight]

There are less than ten minutes left until midnight when you realize you can’t find Ghost anywhere

The local bar you and the rest of the 141 are visiting tonight is packed tight, on account of it being only a few minutes before the new year

The Lieutenant had mentioned stepping out for a smoke a while back, but had yet to return to the table you were all occupying

It was silly, but a small part of you had been harbouring some hope that you might get a kiss at midnight this year

It wouldn’t be so silly, if you were hoping to have that kiss with anyone other than Ghost

And yet, that was exactly the man you’d had your eye on all night and all year if we’re being honest-

“I’m going to run to the ladies room really quick.” You murmur quickly, hopping out of your bar stool before anyone can realize you’re slipping away, their attention focused on some story Soap is recounting enthusiastically

You work your way through the densely packed crowd until you make it to the back entrance, finding the door propped open with a brick

Carefully pushing it open and poking your head out, you scan your gaze around the back alley until your eyes land on none other than the tall, dark figure of your Lieutenant, leaning against the brick wall a ways down further away from the light, the smoke from his cigarette wafting from his hand

Wordlessly, you make your way towards him, his attention never straying from the hole he’s currently staring into the wall ahead of him, even as you step up next to him and lean your own shoulders against the bricks

Only when you let out a small sigh does his head instinctually turn towards you, even just the slightest fraction, and he slightly raises his cigarette towards you in offering, bringing it up to his own lips to inhale when you shake your head

You can’t help the way your eyes naturally follow the movement, zeroing in on the pair of lips you’ve spent so much time thinking about and such little time ever seeing with your own two eyes

You’re certain it must be the liquid courage still running through you that prompts you to speak up, otherwise you don’t think you’d ever be brave or foolish enough to look him in the eyes and say, “Hey Ghost, when was the last time you had a midnight kiss?”

You only know he’s heard you because he cuts off his inhale abruptly, eyes snapping towards you, exposing his genuine surprise for only a split second before he’s recovering already, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and letting the smoke out, taking those precious seconds to absorb your words, before carefully choosing to say:

“What are you fuckin’ goin’ on about now?”

“You know,” you quickly reply before you can feel too embarrassed to back down. “A kiss. On New Years Eve. At midnight. People do it all the time. When was the last time you-”

“Never.” He replies bluntly, throwing his cigarette butt onto the ground next to him, stomping it out with his boot before turning to face you fully

“Oh. Really? Because I-”

“Is tha’ what you came all the way out here abou’? A bloody kiss at midnight?” A chill runs down your spine at the sound of Ghost’s rough, Manchester accent just uttering the word kiss. Your eyes are locked on his lips as they form around the word, failing to notice how his own eyes are now glancing down at your own mouth

“Fuckin’ hell- come here then.” He playfully rolls his eyes before pushing off the wall, taking the small step it takes to close the distance between you, his one hand coming to pull his mask up just a little further until it’s resting over the bridge of his nose, while his other hand is slipping behind the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as he pulls you towards him without hesitation

Your hands land on his shoulders, reaching up on your tip toes when he slots his lips over yours, just as you hear the crowd inside the bar chanting, “…three, two one, happy new year!”

You’re not sure which are louder, the fireworks erupting outside on the streets or the ones going off in your head as you kiss Ghost back

Before you know it, he’s pulling away from you, leaving you breathless where you stand

He allows himself one last glance down at your lips before he’s pulling his balaclava back into place, reaching an arm around your waist to turn you back around towards the propped door

“Come on, pretty. You’ll catch a cold. Ya didn’t take my jacket I left for ya.” He says, paired with a sneaky smack to your ass as he leads you back inside, where there are three men waiting, and though they’d been occasionally entertaining other women throughout the night, they each had realized they couldn’t find you as midnight approached

[soobnny]

my girl — jeongin x f!reader ; the boys find out their youngest has a gf

(1.3k words)

It’s a once in a while thing for the boys to be able to eat out together.

Challenges usually pose through schedule conflicts, one or the other being absent, and timing. They can never truly catch a break. So, when the first sign of a temporary alignment showed, they took the opportunity in a flash.

It was going to be their first dinner together in months, one of their off days.

Usually, the next challenge of indecisiveness would present itself. However, their youngest is quick to suggest a place.

Apparently, they had really good jjajangmyun.

(The boys didn’t know then, but it was because the faster they could decide where to eat, the faster he could go visit you.)

(They also didn’t know then that jjajangmyun was your favorite.)

A chorus of laughter echoes through the little corner store as they’re served their third plate of food. Jeongin didn’t lie about their food, and it was a safe enough space for them to celebrate the end of their latest comeback season.

“Seungmin, you’re getting really brave with your jokes about PD-nim.”

“I ran that contract renewal like the military.”

They spend the night joking, revisiting their past, and being hopeful for the future. A few grateful messages are exchanged after liquid courage is brought to their table. And while a simple night, the boys knew they’d remember this day for the rest of their lives.

There’s quiet pop music playing in the back—the kind you’d hear in the early 2000s. And Han Jisung orders another plate of jjajangmyun.

“Ayen, the food here is crazy good. How’d you find this place?”

Jeongin snaps out of his mental chant at the call of his name, fox-eyes trained on the older boy before the question reverberates in his mind. “My girlfriend recommended it.”

A pin drops.

Their youngest has a habit of lying, taken after his roommate, Seungmin. He usually does it with sneaky smiles and a few giggles. However, both signs indicative of lying are absent, and the boy has the audacity to refill his plate and keep eating as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on his members.

“Girlfriend?” Hyunjin is the first to speak, asking the boy to reiterate what he had just said, even though he heard. Loud and clear, in fact.

“Uhuh.” Jeongin replies through a mouthful of food. “What?”

He looks curiously around the table. His friends’ eyes are glazed, and he’d expected the conversation to be over three minutes ago, but it doesn’t.

Jeongin is in the middle of another bite when all hell breaks loose.

“Girlfriend?!” It’s said even louder now, more amplified, and Hwang Hyunjin stands from where he was previously seated in pure disbelief. All the while, their eldest is having an existential crisis. “Innie, what do you mean?”

He perks his head up, pursing his lips slightly and tilting his head. “What’s the big deal?”

“You have a girlfriend and you didn’t tell us?” It’s Han’s turn to be perplexed, and it’s humorous the way his features mimic the dramatic shock on Hyunjin’s.

Seungmin simply keeps eating.

“Yah, Kim Seungmin. Why aren’t you as surprised as us?”

“I already knew.”

“Seungmin knew, but not us?!”

“Not my fault he trusts me with dating advice.”

That boy definitely knows how to add fuel to fire. Chaos erupts as the younger half harass Seungmin for knowing before them.

“How long have you been dating?,” Minho asks.

“Just around 3 months now.”

If Chan was out of it then, you wouldn’t know how to describe his state now. Felix sits next to him to comfort the poor boy.

“My baby has been dating for 3 months, and I didn’t know anything.”

“Sorry.” Jeongin responds bashfully, scratching the back of his head. He knew his hyungs would act this way, which had led to his decision of keeping it hidden for a while. He thinks he should’ve just told them right away.

Though, he thought they’d known by now. He wasn’t exactly the most secretive about it, and he was sure he’d mentioned you before.

And although shocking to suddenly hear that their youngest (and their baby) had a girlfriend, they will not have his head for it. They know he’s responsible enough to know what not to do, and it was a little touching to know the boy had enough time to fit romance in his life.

“Show us what she looks like!”

The boys get a selfie of you that’s set as his lockscreen, and it’s enough proof to have the boys cooing at how adorable you two would be together.

“Motherfucker, she’s really pretty.” Changbin comments.

“I know.”

Meanwhile, Han and Hyunjin are making up fake scenarios in the corner, scrolling through photos and videos. Then a message.

While their youngest is distracted, Han quickly taps on the notification.

(8:23pm) innie: I miss u

(8:30pm) ynie: miss u too!!!!

(8:31pm) innie: Wish you were here right now

(8:32pm) ynie: aren’t u celebrating with ur friends rnnn

(8:32pm) ynie: stop texting me and enjoy !!!

(8:33pm) innie: But i miss u

(8:33pm) innie: Call me later?

(8:36pm) ynie: after you spend time with ur friends let’s call

(8:37pm) innie: Wanna call now. Just for a second

(8:37pm) innie: Haven’t heard your voice in a while

(8:37pm) ynie: ok fine >:( give me like 10-15 mins

(8:51pm) ynie: i’ll call now

“Oh my god, she’s calling.”

That’s definitely enough to get Jeongin’s attention.

“Give me my phone back.” He reaches out to them, but Hyunjin is fast enough to swipe it.

“Answer it!” Changbin instigates.

Jeongin’s eyes widen in horror when he hears your voice go through his phone. “Innie? Oh—hello.”

You sound so shy, and Chan feels like he’s about to cry. “She calls him Innie.”

The youngest finally snatches his phone back when all Hyunjin could do was stare at you through the screen of his phone. You were real. Yang Jeongin actually has a girlfriend.

“Hi.” He mumbles, moving away from their table to talk to you privately. Though, before he does, he makes sure he leaves a threat to the boys not to follow him. “‘M sorry, did they scare you, baby?”

“It’s okay, I was just surprised.”

Jeongin visibly melts at the sound of your voice. “The boys know about us now.”

“I figured.” You laugh, and the service at the restaurant doesn’t do the warmth of your laughter any justice. He can’t wait to see you later.

“Can I see you later?”

“Mkay, but just… enjoy your time with the boys, okay? You told me it’s been a while since all of you were able to relax over a meal like this.”

“Fine.” He sighs, before a smile creeps on his face. “They liked your suggestion.”

“That’s good. Now go!” There’s a pout on his lips when you shoo him away. “Go have fun, go! I’m hanging up now. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

The wide, bright smile remains on his face even when he goes back to their table.

“Who has our Ayen smiling like that?”

“My girl.”

“Innie’s getting soft.” Minho teases.

Seungmin, on the other hand, fake vomits at his response, and another chorus of laughter bursts from their seats. The night continues through conversations over Jeongin’s sudden revelation, and the promise to let the boys meet you properly next time. He agrees if they promise not to scare you away.

And while he’d kept you a secret for a while, he can’t help but feel a tinge of happiness in his heart that the most important people in his life know about you now, are even eager to meet you. There is no better contentment than all of the people he loves aligning with one another.

The entire night, Jeongin itches in anticipation to hold you in his arms and hear your voice in person after his schedules had torn apart his much needed quality time with you. And when he asks to leave, they don’t need to know where he’s going.

One look at his face, and the only evident answer is you.

[sunni-stuff]

Three days had passed since Jellybean, your rescued stray, vanished. Though an outdoor enthusiast at heart, she'd never missed a meal. Now, your phone tracker beeped, signaling proximity. The crafty runt had escaped, but you were closing in. Jellybean's street-smart ways usually brought her home, yet this time felt different. As you followed the signal, hope and worry battled within.

You traveled alone as none of the townspeople were brave enough to help with your search. The mere mention of the North Woods shook them to the core, earning your request swift declines and slammed doors in your face. Whispers and rumors follow you with every interaction 

Secluded and untraceable, his cabin lies tucked away, invisible to prying eyes.

Rumors swirl of his territorial fury. Trespassers beware—this hunter stalks from afar. His domain is unforgiving, and his presence is a constant threat. The lucky ones spot the warning sign; others never see him coming.

Even the butcher, renowned for his toughness, said no, unwilling to even hear you out.

“There’s a man in the woods,” he said, voice unwavering. “You’d be smart to forget the idea.”

The boom of the door closing makes you flinch, jumping back a bit. A man in the woods? Surely not.

Even more absurd than some creep in the woods was the thought that the big, bad butcher was scared of him. This was a man who walked you home at night, who sneered at men and pulled you close to his side when you became uncomfortable. You knew him for a long time and you’d never seen him so much as flinch, but suddenly he was all squinted eyes and hushed tones at the thought of even stepping a foot off the beaten path. It couldn't be true, right?

Well, there was only one way to prove him wrong, and it was the only way you were gonna get Jellybean back. You’re going in that forest, urban myth or not.

Shadows lengthen as you exit your truck. The door closes with a hollow thud. The townsfolk's warnings replay in your mind, urging caution. You scan the area, heart racing. Drooping leaves cast an ominous veil over the forest. The murky depths seem to whisper, both alluring and forbidding.

Anxiety grips you as you take a step further. "Bean?" You whisper, voice trembling.

Silence answers. Twigs crack underfoot, and each snap creates an ominous echo. You cringe, the sounds amplifying your unease. Yet you press on, searching the quiet forest.

Minutes stretch like hours as you quietly call Bean's name, doing your best not to attract any unwanted attention, as the woods loom, hiding unknown dangers. Glancing down, your phone shows her location, unchanged, since she first wandered off. Jellybean's absence at this late hour is unsettling. She never stayed out of the house this long, and not so still, either. You can't help but think the worst, deciding to hurry closer to her, praying to find her safe.

Venturing deeper, the terrain grew wilder. Massive leaves parted, revealing fallen trunks and tilted trees. The more you looked around, the more it became clear that the uncharted wilderness wasn't made for humans.

There was no possible way.

The forest gave little leeway to those travelings through its domain. Predators strayed barely out of sight, lurking in hopes you'd be their next meal. A howl in the distance has you on edge, skin crawling, the feeling of being watched running anxious edges.

"Just keep walking. It'll be okay. The tracker says she's near." You reassured yourself under quite murmurs, trying to will your heart calm.

Then it appeared without warning.

A wolf lurches from the woodland gloom, baring his jagged canines, poised and ready to pounce. He circles you in a slow, menacing loop, foam pooling from his parted jaws. His eyes blaze with a frenzied gleam, wild and driven by something beyond hunger. Some dark, unseen force propels him, and you feel it tightening around you.

You turn and run.

Run as fast as your legs can carry you, tearing through the thick underbrush. Foliage slaps your arms and face, and the weeds clutch at your ankles like skeletal fingers desperate to drag you down. You ignore the stinging scratches, the pounding in your chest. If you fall, if you falter for even a second—you know it’s over.

Run.

The untamed beast snaps its jaws inches behind you, hot breath searing your calves, each bite narrowly missing as he hounds you with ruthless, single-minded determination. You crash through a thicket, branches clawing at your arms, tearing through your clothes, until you stumble onto a barely visible trail where weak shafts of light seep through gaps in the trees.

There’s no time to think. No time to process the sting of cuts or the burn in your lungs, nothing beyond the raw, primal instinct to get the hell away from the rabid creature on your heels.

Then you see it.

A cabin.

Really, a dilapidated shack, its sagging roof overrun with twisting vines, looms before you, barely held together by rotting beams and splintered boards. The whole structure looks one hard gust away from collapse, yet it’s the only shelter in sight. You don’t hesitate, heart hammering in your chest, and charge toward the door.

In your frantic rush, you miss the glint of watching eyes, shining like dark coals from the shadows behind, tracking your every move.

You burst inside, slamming the door shut with a desperate shove, then lean your back against it. Your chest heaves, each ragged breath scraping your lungs as you struggle to catch your breath, the weight of dread pressing down on you even harder than the beast’s pursuit.

The aroma of simmering soup wafted through the air, warmth enveloping you. A cozy scene unfolded: a bubbling pot atop a wooden stove, a modest desk tucked away, and a solitary lantern casting a soft glow. The space exuded an unexpected warmth, soft light pooling over worn furniture and the faint scent of old wood calming your frayed nerves. Your pulse slowed as the familiar coziness settled around you. Then, a gentle brush against your leg pulled you from the haze of adrenaline.

You glanced down—and there she was. Jellybean, her eyes wide and radiant, a few telltale crumbs clinging to her brown fur from some long-forgotten snack.

A rush of tenderness overtook the fading remnants of panic. You reached down, catching the elusive little troublemaker as she gave an indignant squirm. “You little—” The half-hearted scold fizzled, replaced by a sudden, overwhelming need to hold her close. “How—How did you end up here, huh?”

Holding Jellybean close, you feel the weight of your situation settling over you—a stranger in a cabin far from familiar ground, with the last of the sunlight slipping away, trapping you inside until dawn. Outside was darkness thick and impenetrable, the forest itself a living maze you dared not attempt at night.

“Shit,” you mutter, voice barely above a whisper as if speaking too loudly might stir something in the shadows.

Slowly, you move deeper into the space, eyes sweeping over the bare walls and spartan furniture. There’s something unnervingly sterile about the place—no photos, no knickknacks. Not a trace of personality or life. Who would live here? The rumors of some reclusive figure haunting these woods flash through your mind.

No. You shake your head, brushing off the thought. This was probably just some hunter’s shack. Or a place someone from town stayed now and then, just a shelter, nothing more.

Your foot presses down on a loose floorboard, and a loud creak echoes through the stillness. You freeze, heartbeat stuttering. Jellybean’s ears twitch, but she remains calm. Before you can step back, a low groan seeps from somewhere within the cabin, rolling through the floorboards, shivering up your spine.

Your grip tightens on Jellybean, and you hold your breath, listening.

“I-Is anyone there…?” Your voice barely steady. The words hover in the silence, as though the shadows themselves are holding their breath, waiting.

Then, clear as day, you hear it.

“Help… me…”

The voice is thin and broken, barely more than a whisper. Instinct screams at you to ignore it, to sit tight until morning. But something tugs at you. The sound is weak, desperate—human. The cabin feels suddenly smaller, its walls pressing in, urging you to run.

“Please… someone help me…"

A shiver races down your spine. Curse your altruism. You clutch Jellybean tighter, swallowing back the fear rising in your throat.

“U-uh, where…?” The question slips out before you can think, shaky and uncertain.

Silence stretches taut, pressing against your ears. Then, faint and low, a whining sound rises from beneath the floorboards, almost like a wounded animal. Every instinct screams at you to turn back, to stay safe. But you find yourself edging closer to the noise, heart hammering against your ribs.

Your gaze lands on a small, almost-hidden door near the far wall—the entrance to a cellar.

The pleas are louder here, wavering but persistent, each whisper curling up from the depths. “Help… please…”

You should walk away. This is a bad idea. A terrible idea. But, against every sliver of common sense, your hand reaches out, fingers trembling as they brush over the handle.

It turns with a rusty groan, and you pull the door open, revealing a narrow staircase descending into shadow. At the bottom, you catch the flicker of ember light, glowing faintly as if from a dying fire.

The cellar stretches out before you, a vast, dimly lit space far larger than should exist beneath such a modest shack. Shadows cling to the walls, the only light casting a faint, sickly orange glow that barely cuts through the murk. You step cautiously, heart-pounding, but then you glance to your right—and freeze.

The scene hits you with a nauseating force. Men hang suspended from thick meat hooks, bodies bruised and broken, some barely clinging to life, others unmoving, their faces blank and eyes empty. Their battered forms twist slightly in the air, like grotesque puppets left to dangle and rot. You swallow hard, stomach twisting as bile rises in your throat.

But then the horror deepens—recognition dawns. One face after another, familiar, each one seared into memory. The delivery driver who refused to take no for an answer, the lawyer from the pub whose relentless advances wore you down, the pizza guy who loitered outside your job, watching, waiting. All here. Hung like slabs of meat in this nightmarish cellar.

Your mind spins, the details piecing together in a sickening realization. The butcher. He’d warned them off, told you they wouldn’t bother you anymore. But this? This was something beyond any threat, beyond any punishment you’d ever imagined.

How? How had they ended up here? How did any of this exist beneath an unassuming cabin in the middle of the woods?

You weren’t supposed to see this. This was something that should have remained buried, hidden in the depths where secrets go to rot. The enormity of it presses down on you, making it hard to breathe, hard to think.

But then, one of them stirs. The pizza guy, his head lolling weakly to the side, lifts his face. His eyes, clouded and bloodshot, light up with recognition—a desperate spark of life in his hollow gaze. “Help! Please, before he comes back!” he rasps, voice cracking.

He.

The word rings in your mind, cold and jagged. He? Who could do this? Who would do this?

Your voice trembles as the question slips out, a thin whisper in the oppressive silence. “W—who… who are you talking about?”

The cellar door slams shut behind you, the echo reverberating off the cold stone walls, trapping you in the silence that follows. Heavy, methodical footsteps descend the rotting stairs, each step creaking beneath his weight. His breathing is deep, ragged, each inhale and exhale marking his slow, purposeful approach.

Don’t turn around.

Your body locks up, instinct screaming to flee, but your legs refuse to move. You clutch Jellybean tightly to your chest, but suddenly, she squirms, thrashing in your arms in a way she never has before. Confusion twists through your terror—Jellybean has always clung to you, never trying to escape. What was she doing?

With a leap, she slips from your grasp, landing soundlessly on the floor. She pads past you, moving behind you, and the silence is filled with soft, delighted purring.

You don’t want to look. You hold still, desperately hoping that if you don’t move, you’ll disappear, fade into the shadows. But you can feel him standing just behind you, the weight of his presence pressing down like a storm cloud.

And then, a voice. Familiar. Deep, smooth, and thick with a British lilt, edged with something that both chills and soothes you.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, a note of affection clear in his tone as he addresses Jellybean.

Recognition strikes you like a blow. That voice—you’ve heard it a thousand times. The same voice that always offered a warm “good evening” when he walked you home at night. The same voice that laughed as he handed Jellybean her treats at the butcher shop. The same voice that warned you, with a peculiar intensity, to avoid these woods.

The butcher.

---

A/N: I don't usually do long writing stuff... but I've had this one in the drafts for too long and wanted it out. I kind of like how it turned out but I can def improve!

[dumpywrites]

Trophy Boy - Jeon Jungkook

Prompt: Beauty privilege exists, that's why you're selling your hot best friend.

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, friends to lovers, model! Jungkook, soft! Jungkook, office worker reader

Pairing: Jungkook x she/her reader

a/n: softie and goofy Jungkook is my weakness! and I know ya'll feel the same way :)

Yet another busy day at the office. You were sitting down in a slumped position in your cubicle, something you should probably change or would regret in the future. The hot air was not helping you at all and you were starting to sweat through your stripped shirt, despite the air conditioner being on full blast. 

Boss just entered the room with the not-so-short rant targeted specifically to the marketing team. Apparently interest in buying plain tees and other basic fashion items were not the greatest at the moment, but if you actually were to be frank, it was more on the brand you were working at. Your boss was blaming things left and right, trying to find excuses to cope with his current losses. 

The thing was with the big guy, was that he wanted huge impact while spending the smallest amount he could possibly afford. It was a somewhat clever business decision in terms of saving cost, but sometimes people just needed that extra boom. That go big or go home. If your boss wanted his brand to reach a new market of people, he needed to brave himself for greater risks. 

“Sir, maybe we do need to endorse some big name influencers to help boost our social media exposure.” One of your co-workers spoke up. 

“We cannot afford millions just for a few Instagram stories, moreover they charge more for a simple photoshoots.” Your boss replied with a groan. 

“Sir, but if you look at how Calvin Klein promote their stuff, we obviously need some good looking people wearing and demonstrating how good our products could be.” The guy retorted. “Good looking people make basic items look good. That’s literally what they do.” 

“Good looking people cost a lot, Hoseok. If you could somehow find me a drop dead gorgeous guy who would somehow accept anything under thirty dollars per hour, we’ll talk.” And with that the man walked out from the room. 

“Well good luck on that, I guess.” Hoseok rolled his eyes with a smirk. 

“At this rate you’re gonna get kick out.” You eyed the guy next to you. “We don’t want that, remember? We need you resigning with class, so that you don’t get a bad rep???”

“That man needs to know that whatever boomer shit we’re doing here, ain’t gonna boost our sales!” He protested. “You could buy plain white t-shirts anywhere, what makes us special?!”

“True.” You sighed. “I even heard the design team complaining about this.”

“If only we could afford that one handsome mukbang streamer who is everywhere right now.” Hoseok sighed along with you. 

“If you could magically make Kim Seokjin to accept three hundred per hour I would literally worship you.” 

“Do you maybe have any hot friends?” 

“God, I don’t know?! Do you??? I don’t have any friends who are influencers or anything.” 

“Can I see any group photos you have? They don’t have to be an influencer. Just gotta be good looking enough. The rest can be helped through styling.” Hoseok scooted closer. 

“You sound crazy.” You eyed the guy, shaking your head. “Are we that desperate?!”

“Hey, maybe doing this could help me get that recommendation letter, you know?” Hoseok said smugly. “Now let me look through your friend group…”

“If you want a decent looking guy that we could revamp by styling later, Yoongi literally exists.” You said, suggesting the tech-support guy. 

“He’s short. Although I get your point, would he even be willing to do so without actually killing any of us???”

“Fair enough.” You laughed. “Here, I don’t know, take a look at my friends, I guess…”You handed him your phone. 

The picture you flashed on your phone screen was from a recent dinner hangout you had with your group friend of five. Hoseok throughly scanned the photo as if he was doing some detective work. It did not take him too long before an idea popped and he snapped his fingers. He straightened his pose and moved his chair closer to you. 

“Who is this hunk with tattoos?!”

“Uh, that’s my friend Jungkook?” You eyed him suspiciously. “Don’t tell me—“

“He’s hot.”

You stopped and looked back to your co-worker’s direction. “He’s the most unserious person I know, we can’t—“

“But he’s hot.” Hoseok cut your sentence again. “He’s not like a model or something, right?”

“He’s a graphic designer…” You replied, unsure. 

“Perfect! That means he won’t mind us underpaying him.” He smirked. “Do not argue with me right now, I know you agree with me.”

You eyed the guy again, searching for doubt and found none. The guy was dead serious about this. 

“Fine.”

**

And that was how you found yourself assisting your friend for his now third photoshoot. After the first one being a huge success, your company kept asking for more content and for him to become their part time model. 

Obviously your friend’s beauty was no news for you. Jungkook had always been cute in your eyes alone, way before he discovered Pinterest and basic styling. You had known him for a few years, the friend group was built around university days after all, and you had seen him through thick and thin. Literally though, you saw him transformed from this scrawny boy to a gym bro right in front of you. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by a few knocks at the door. You straightened your figure and told the person to enter. 

“Hi, Y/N!” 

It was Chaewon from design department. Her alongside with Jimin both work in the fashion area. While she designed the silhouettes, Jimin helped with the styling. Even though she was a normal employee like you, she actually was the CEO’s daughter. It was a known fact already, but she insisted to be treated the same as everyone else. 

“Hi, do you need something, Chaewon?” 

“I need to talk to you about something…” The girl said, looking nervous. She was fidgeting her fingertips and looking to other direction. 

“Sure, what is it?”

“Jungkook’s your friend, right?”

“Uh, yeah… why?”

“I really need your help.” She put her hands together above her head. “I need a plus one to a wedding.”

“And you need Jungkook to help you?” You looked at her questioningly. 

“Yes!” She said, nodding her head a few times. “Please, my ex is gonna be there.”

“I’m not sure if he’s willing—“

“I’ll pay.”

You froze and she continued again. 

“I overheard you talking to Hoseok that Jungkook’s not getting the pay he deserves because he’s new…“

“Chaewon, you don’t have to—“

“Please, just this once??? If it makes you feel better I’ll pay you both.” When you stopped she added. “Is five hundred enough? I’ll give you the same amount.” 

You gulped. So unlike her father, Chaewon was not at all stingy. Her offer sounded really tempting. While you wanted to say it sounded good in your head out of good conscious in you, because Jungkook deserved better pay, you also couldn’t lie to yourself that you needed the extra dollars at the moment. Accidentally dropping your phone from the stairs and having to replace the whole screen certainly did a dent to your savings. Not to mention how your car just broke down a month ago.

“I’ll… ask him.”

“Awesome. Let me know as soon as possible cause the wedding’s this weekend!” She smiled before exiting the room. 

You spent the next few hours contemplating with your inner debate. It sounded rather wrong, but there’s no harm if he agrees to it? You thought. 

“Hey, there!”

Speak of the devil. There he was, skipping through the office walking straight to your shared room. The muscle bunny, sometimes his duality scared you, how his facial expression and demeanor could switch in between takes and breaks. He looked effortlessly good with the brand’s blank white t-shirt hugging his body nicely. Let Jimin cook because he styled his hair wavy this time and it looked so good on him. 

“Hello to you too, Mr. Model.” You shook your head, smiling. “Done with the shoots?”

“Yep. I finished an hour earlier this time.” He leaned to your table with a grin on his lips. 

“You didn’t give Jimin and Chaewon a hard time, right?” You said, mentioning the design team. 

“Nope.” He giggled. “Chaewon even said that I’ve improved a lot and I barely need any pose references now.”

“That’s great.” You said with your eyes still glued to the computer screen. 

He hummed and took the empty seat next to you. He started flipping through his phone, not wanting to disturb you but also not wanting to leave.

“Aren’t you leaving? Hoseok’s meeting is done in like ten minutes. He’s gonna need that seat.” You pointed. 

He bit his inner cheeks. “What time are you finished?”

“At five? And you knew this already, stop asking.”

“Who knows if I keep asking, one day you’ll get to clock out earlier.” He shrugged. 

You chuckled. “You know you don’t have to wait up for me every single time.” 

“You got me the job, it’s only fair. Besides, I’m not doing photoshoots every single day.”

Yeah and they’re underpaying you. You sighed. “Kook, I want to ask you something…”

His eyes lit up as he perked up, looking to your direction like a puppy. He nodded eagerly with a smile, waiting for you. “Yeah?”

“Chaewon asked me if you’d be interested on being her plus one at a wedding?”

The excitement in his face dropped almost instantly. You could see his eyes frowned at the question thrown at him. 

“That’s weird. Why would she?”

“It’s a wedding and her ex is attending.” You explained. “She said she’ll pay.”

“Nah, that’s still fucked up though. Isn’t she the big boss’ daughter or something?!” He raised his eyebrows. 

“But she’ll pay.” You repeated. “She told me five hundred…”

“Oh shit.” He widened his eyes. “For real?!”

You nodded. “Just say yes, it’s literally just a one time thing.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, I’ll help you out with everything.” 

He breathed out a sigh. “Alright, only if you’ll help me out.” 

“Great, I’ll let Chaewon know.” You turned your head quickly realizing Hoseok was already at the door. “Go home, don’t wait up for me.”

He shook his head and smile. “Okay, don’t forget to eat, yeah?” 

“I won’t. See ya, Kook.” 

He waved his hand to you with a big tooth-aching smile and headed towards the door. He briefly waved to Hoseok and the guy greeted him back before he went out. 

“How are you not dating that dude is beyond me.” Hoseok suddenly blurted as he calmly took his seat. 

You almost choked on nothing. “Excuse me?!”

“That boy is clearly into you. He basically waits for you every single time like an obedient dog.”

“Cause he’s my friend and I technically got him this job? He said it himself.”

“Sure.” He snickered, eyes immediately back to his computer screen. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“I will because that’s the truth.” You rolled your eyes and returned to your work. 

**

As promised, you found yourself accompanying Jungkook on a Saturday morning, helping him choosing a suit. Jimin was kind enough to recommend you a good place to rental one. Man only had baggy clothes and baggy clothes only in his wardrobe, and for sure they were not a good fit for a wedding.

“Have you asked Chaewon what color she’ll be wearing?” Jungkook asked as he browsed through the hanger. 

“Didn’t I gave you her number? You should talk to her you know, it’ll be less awkward.” 

The guy puffed his cheeks, pouting. “Dunno dude… It still feels kinda weird to me. I’ll rehearse when I pick her up.” 

“Oh, speaking of that. I’ve rented the car for you. It’s a Lexus.”

“Couldn’t afford a Porche or some?” 

“I figured we don’t need to be that flashy.”

“I was joking.” Jungkook sighed with a smile. “It’s always straight up business with you, huh?”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” You looked at him for a second, but proofing him right as your eyes quickly moved to the loafer shoes at the shelf. “I think these could go well with your suit.” 

The man sighed again with a defeated smile on his face as he took the loader to try them on. “This is fun too, I guess…”

“You mean renting an outfit and cosplaying as a rich person?” You quirked your eyebrow and grinned. 

“No, I mean hanging out with you like this, silly. When was even the last time we hangout like this?” He chuckled, jumping up and down as he tried the shoes. “Would you look at that, I could probably dance in these!” 

“We’ll take those then.” You gestured him to take them off and he did so. “I don’t know, back in college??? Back then when I helped you buying an outfit for—“

“Don’t!” With his eyes widened he immediately stopped you from finishing your sentence. 

“Why?” You laughed. 

“Do not even man… that was so embarrassing.” He covered his face. “My confidence level was through the roof thinking I could win someone with a bowl cut.”

“Hey, that bowl cut wasn’t so bad!” You chuckled. “Aww, I suddenly missed the cute and innocent looking Jungkookie…”

“You mean I don’t look cute and innocent anymore?” He batted his eyelashes at you jokingly. 

“Taehyung thought you were a drug dealer when he first met you.” You folded your arms. 

“He’s a judgmental person.” He clicked his tongue. “I am in fact still cute, you need to accept that.”

“Sure.” You giggled and patted him right in his tatted bicep. 

There were some audible protests coming from your friend, but you let him be as you paid for the rented clothings and footwear. 

After making sure all things were set, you texted Chaewon to double check on the time and place, as well as asking her on whether there was a specific topic she wanted to talk or not to talk. Jungkook still refused to call her or even text her personally, which is a bit annoying, but at the end of the day you were also getting that paycheck so you couldn’t complain too much, since Jungkook was the main performer in this after all. 

“All good?” You asked him. 

“Do you think I should take off my lip piercings?” He said, looking at the mirror. 

“Nah, it’s fine. Chaewon already knows what she’s doing when she asked for you.” 

“She specifically wants a bad boy for a plus one?” 

“Now who says you’re a bad boy?”

“I thought we just had a talk about how I don’t look cute and innocent anymore???” He turned to face you. “Although, I’m not a believer but that’s your statement.” He shrugged with a big smirk on his lips. 

“Your exterior yes, but you’re not fooling anyone with your personality, my guy. You’re a softie.” You chuckled and moved closer to fix his crooked tie.

A genuine smile was visible on his face. “Glad to hear that.” 

Seeing his smile instantly made you did as well. “Nervous?”

“Me? Nah, never.” He dismissed. 

“Of course.” You giggled. “Go, we’re so gonna try that new Japanese restaurant after this!”

And the party went well. Apparently Jungkook impressed all of Chaewon’s friends, even though they were not the main target and some were even aware of the agreement. Most importantly, he got her ex’s attention. He got the guy approaching, introducing himself, and seemingly pissed when Jungkook decided not to reveal his name to him in return. 

In conclusion, Chaewon had a great time and both of you were paid handsomely. Oh, that wagyu beef you had together afterwards sure was delicious! 

**

“I may need to borrow Jungkook again.” 

You stared at the lady in front of you, fazed. Chaewon had just stopped you right after work, just randomly popping the sentence out of nowhere. You were not too sure how to react. 

“I’ll pay again! Don’t worry.” She giggled nervously. “It’s just that, my parents actually think it’s good if I have someone with me to attend a shareholder party…” 

“I see.” Was all you could say. 

“They don’t know I’m paying both of you but they do think he’s one good looking arm candy…”

You sure did not like how she phrased that. 

“It’ll be quicker than the wedding, it’s just a small dinner.” She reasoned again. “Can you ask Jungkook?”

“Why don’t you?” You cleared your throat quickly after realizing how that might sound rude. “I mean, you could just ask him?”

“I don’t think he’s that comfortable with me… He also talked to me through you, no? Please, I really need your help.” 

“I…” The thought of your unfinished car payment started to fill your mind again. “I’ll talk to him.” 

“I’m counting on you.” She quickly reached for your hand and shook it vigorously. “And uh, keep it between us but I think you’ll be getting a raise next month with your contribution and all.” She winked before leaving you. 

The whole ride back home got you thinking deeply. Mostly considering your morals and common sense. Sure it was easy money on your part, and while Jungkook himself had not shown major complaints, you couldn’t help but to feel awful. You then decided to give him a call.

“Ye?” The guy on the other line sounded like he had food inside his mouth as he spoke. 

“You busy?” 

“Wait.” He said, seemingly taking his time to swallow. “No, I was just catching up on Squid Game with Bam. What’s up?”

“Chaewon kinda asked for your help again.” 

“Huh?” He voiced, followed by an upcoming video call notification. 

“Wait, do you really have to video call right now???” You swore you almost laughed, this man could be out of this world sometimes. 

“I need your live reaction.” He chuckled. “And Bam too! Don’t you miss him?”

“Shit, hold on.” You quickly took a peek at your reflection in the mirror, making sure your at home appearance was at least presentable before you accept the call request. “You are so weird, you know that?”

“I’m aware.” He laughed and took his dog’s paw to playfully wave at you, making you smile. 

“So uh, about Chaewon…”

“Oh yeah, that.” He frowned. “Do I need to go to another wedding? Damn, people must really care about the declining birth rate…”

“Her parents apparently wanted her to go to a dinner with the shareholders.” You controlled yourself not to make any weird expression, thinking about the word eye-candy Chaewon called him still rubbed you the wrong way. 

“Oh, am I gonna get introduced as a model?” He beamed. “That’d be cool.” 

“I don’t know.” You said, trying not to sound discouraging. “She’s gonna pay again though…”

“Ah…” He nodded, biting his inner cheeks. “I kinda need me a new camera…” 

“So?”

“Yeah, why the heck not.” He shrugged. “Does this mean we’ll get another makeover montage moment though???”

“We don’t need to rent a suit for this but I’ll help you out with your outfit choices, I guess.” 

“Cool, it’s a date then?”

You looked at him a bit weirded out but man just flashed you a big grin like it was nothing. 

“What?! I mean it’s kinda like a date since I don’t have to dress all formal.” He chuckled. 

“Of course.” You rolled your eyes. 

“I wonder though, I’m not one to judge but can’t she have anyone, I don’t know… more normal?” He then threw a cheeto in his mouth, snacking on it. “She’s a rich girl who’s also conveniently good looking. I’m sure there’s someone willing to go without payment.”

“You think she’s pretty?”

“I mean yeah.” He said, casually crunching on another cheeto. 

You didn’t know why a random opinion of his bothered you somehow, but you decided to shoo the thoughts away. “I don’t know but I think you’re underestimating the power you hold here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jungkook, you are aware that you’re hot, right?” That might be too bold of you, but you were feeling a bit frisky. 

“Oooh~” He laughed giddily. “Didn’t know you think of me that way but thank you.” 

“Don’t play dumb, I wouldn’t offer you the job if I thought otherwise.” 

“I’m so telling the others. They need to know that you find me hot.” 

“Jungkook, what the hell—“

“Matter of fact, I’m gonna invite Taehyung to this call…” He snickered. 

“What?! No!” You quickly pressed the end call button out of panic. 

A text notification showed up immediately after the line ended, filled with a bunch of laughing emojis, saying that he was just joking and that he would see you on the next photoshoot. You wondered what made your heart doing summersaults but it did for a moment. 

**

“What do girls even like?” Jungkook asked you as he put on his leather jacket. “I probably won’t need this since I won’t be riding my bike, huh?”

You were sitting on his bed, one which had a few clothings messily displayed. It was an off day but you needed to help him with his outfit for another “gig” with Chaewon. The supposed job was not until the next day, but you had to visit your family hence why you were meeting a day prior. To be frank, you didn’t think he even needed you, considering you knew how he dressed on daily basis, but somehow he kept insisting that he needed your opinion as a woman, his words not yours. 

“Just be yourself.” You said as you looked at him from top to bottom. “Do not loose the jacket, it’s nice.” 

He put the outer back on, admiring at his reflection on the mirror. “You think?”

“I’m sure you go on a lot of dates… I assume.” You gave him a look. 

“Oh, you think so?” He chuckled. 

You looked at him suspiciously. “I don’t know? It’s not like I know your private life like that. When was the last time you went out on a date?”

“Hmm.” He tapped his chin in a comical way. “Last month, I think?”

You almost asked on why you hadn’t heard any of it, but you felt like it wasn’t your place to. “Oh? How was it?”

“It was okay-ish.” He shrugged. “I think she liked me I dunno…”

“You seem disinterested.” 

“You gotta try dating apps man… it drains you so much mentally to the point you start thinking everyone’s the same and nothing really matters.” He laughed. 

“You sure you’re not exaggerating?” 

“Maybe I am just a bit.” He chuckled. “But man… I’m so fed up with people!” He said, joining you sitting down on his bed. 

“Then why don’t you just delete the app?” 

He shrugged. “At the end of the day I’m still a human being who needs someone. It gets lonely sometimes.” 

“I wanna say working is a great distraction but let’s be honest it’s not.” You shook your head. 

“What ever happened to that guy that Namjoon introduced you to?” 

“Didn’t quite worked out. Plus, that was like what, five months ago??? Keep up with the news, please.” You laughed. 

“And no one told me?!” He looked at you, pretending to be offended. 

“It’s not exactly the most interesting story to tell… He’s a nice guy but two weeks into knowing him, he had to move to Singapore for a job.”

“Damn, that’s sad.” He clicked his tongue. 

“He’s not exactly my type anyways.” You chuckled. 

Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows, instantly getting a judgy look from you. “How exactly is your type then?”

“I like my men like I like my food.”

“Girlie, you eat anything.” Jungkook slanted his eyes. 

“Exactly, I’m not picky. As long as they’re honest and kind… I guess.”

He booed. “That’s boring.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help a smile. “Hey, I’m a simple person. And in today’s world it’s hard to find someone who has those traits, you know?” You hit his arm. “What about you? Being a model and all now must have set a new standard for you, huh?”

He laughed. “Nah, I don’t really have a type either. I just want someone who matches my freak.”

“That’s gotta be hard.” You giggled. 

“Hopefully not.” He grinned. “I mean, you kinda do…” He looked up at the ceiling, playfully whistling. 

“Aww, Kookie~” You cooed, teasing him. 

“I’m not joking.” He furrowed his brows like a kid. 

“Of course not.” You chuckled and ruffled his already messy hair. 

Jungkook protested and grabbed your wrist to stop you, but for a moment both of you stopped at eye level, just looking into each other. Your teasing grin slowly faded to be replaced with a tense gaze. The dark round pair of orbs were now staring into your eyes. 

Your mind was short circuiting when he suddenly moved closer. Your eyes squinted shut immediately, but nothing really happened after that. Jungkook just laughed it out and softly pushed you off him.

**

After the second agreement ended successfully, Chaewon had decided to come back yet again asking for Jungkook’s help. For sure she couldn’t be having that many social events to attend to, but apparently she did. This time, she needed him for her school reunion, said that it’d bad for her rep to show up alone after introducing him to her so-called friends just recently. 

This time, you were at your limit though. You weren’t so sure how Jungkook felt about the whole ordeal, but you on the other hand felt terrible. You could not just keep continuing and pretending like you weren’t basically selling your friend for money. And so after taking a deep breath, you politely rejected her offer. 

“Oh, come on! It’ll be the last time! Please???”She pleaded. 

“You need to ask him then, and uh… if he ends up agreeing you don’t have to pay me anymore. I kinda feel bad….”

“Guess I have to ask him myself then.” She heaved a sigh. “I’ll ask him after his photoshoot today.”

“I don’t mean to offend you in any way though, I just feel like I’m exploiting him.”

“No, don’t worry I get it.” She smiled, waving her hand in front of her face. 

When you arrived at the set the photoshoot was nearly on its end. As usual you get to monitor a bit and asked the staff about the progress. What was odd and new to you was seeing Chaewon being touchy with Jungkook. You knew she was a stylist and it was her job to take care of his looks during the shoot, but the high pitch laughs? Did she really need to touch his hair like that? And why did Jungkook seemed fine and joked back with her. The photographer definitely did not have to say that they look good together too. 

You did not hear anything from Jungkook after his photoshoot. You were busy with your job, mostly trying to distract yourself from the fact that you were too scared to ask the guy, you were even too anxious to meet him just at the thought of him finding out about your agreement. You didn’t get the chance to find out the event but kept wondering if he had agreed or not. Seeing how friendly they were today, maybe he did say yes to it. 

You also wondered since when did you start feeling jealous over this whole situation. Maybe that one moment between you and Jungkook that day really did something to you. He was about to kiss you, wasn’t he? Or maybe you were just going crazy. 

Funny enough, you thought the lad had went home straight after his photoshoot, but he surprised you with two cups of boba in his hands right after work. 

“You’re still here?!” You were surprised. 

“I didn’t wanna bother you, you seemed very focused today.” He giggled and handed you one of the drinks. “Let’s find somewhere to sit and finish the drink, I’ll take you home after.”

You gulped, the anxiety starting to consume you again. “O-Okay.”

Jungkook seemed to notice the nervousness in the tone of your voice as he looked at you, but he didn’t say anything. You two walked towards a nearby bench outside the building and sat down. It was chilly and you could see the wind blowing his hair nicely, making him look straight out of a movie scene. 

“Thanks… for the boba.” You said, a little nervous. 

“Chaewon kinda gave me an offer again…” 

“Oh.” You said, avoiding his eyes. “How did that go?”

“I don’t know I’m still thinking about it.”

“I see.” You said, trying not to sound too unenthusiastic about it. 

“She said you don’t wanna be involved anymore though.” He stopped walking. “Did I do something wrong??? If it’s about what happened last time I’m terribly sorry…”

“No! Jungkook, you’re not the one who should be apologizing here!” You sighed. 

“Why?”

You couldn’t find yourself to explain further. “You should just say yes, it literally means no harm.”

“But why don’t you wanna help out anymore?!”

One thing about Jungkook was that he sure was one hell of a hard headed man. 

“I just have more stuff I need to handle outside work and I don’t have the time.” You lied. 

Jungkook looked at you with doubt but nodded anyway. “But we’re okay though, right?”

The big round eyeballs were looking at you, as if pleading. Who would say no to that. 

**

At this point you were sure there was something wrong with you. 

You knew Jungkook had to come today for some extra footages. That was why you were trying your hardest to not leave your room and made yourself look busy. Hoseok seemed to notice your weird behavior but this time the man said nothing and let you be. 

You managed to avoid your friend for an insufferable few hours, until you had to go to relieve yourself. You saw Chaewon and Jimin first, but then the person who you were suppose to avoid popped out from the restroom, seemingly just done changing back to his own clothes. 

Your eyes met immediately and of course his first reaction was to flash you the brightest smile he could. You could tell there was a hint of awkwardness in it, but you didn’t want to further ponder on it. 

You waved back timidly, hurrying yourself to the toilet. You even spent a good ten minutes there, hoping they’d leave, but when you were done, Chaewon and Jungkook were still chatting in front. 

Chaewon smiled in defeat and grabbed you by your arm. “I just got rejected.” 

You widened your eyes and instantly jerked your head towards your friend. The guy only smiled in return. 

“Guess you guys are really a bundle, huh? Maybe I should consider asking our tech support guy.” She chuckled. 

“Why don’t you just date for real? I could introduce you to some guys.” Jungkook said. 

“No, not right now at least.” She giggled. “Too bad, you can’t help me anymore, it’s not exactly easy to find people who would just agree to this.”

“Really?” Jungkook voiced. “I thought you’ve done this before.”

“Why do you think I even paid your friend here just so you could say yes?” She laughed, not knowing the information she had just revealed. 

“Oh, you also got paid?”

“Excuse me, if you guys don’t mind I still got work left undone.” 

Without looking back you quickly escaped the scene and half-ran to your room. Neither of them came looking for you afterwards so you assumed you were at least safe for the day. 

That was again until you saw a certain Bambi eyed, boba ball looking man waiting for you at the front entrance. 

“You finished early today.” He waved. “Wanna get some corndog? I—“

“Jungkook, why aren’t you mad at me?”

The guy looked at you for a second before speaking. “Why should I be angry at you again?”

You sighed. “I got paid without you knowing. I basically sold you.” You looked away, trying to control your emotion. 

You heard his sigh and his shoulders drooped as he walked closer to you. “No, you didn’t. I also got paid and I enjoyed doing the job.”

“If you enjoyed it then what’s the difference if I’m involved or not? I’m sure you don’t need my help.”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” He took a last sip of the drink in his hand before setting it aside. “I only agreed just so I can spend time with you more, dummy.”

You were lost of words.

“I thought having a crush on you was a phase but it turns out I really do like you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh dear, I hope I’m not making this weird for you.” He chuckled nervously. 

Your mouth went slightly ajar as you froze in place. Jungkook liked you? 

“I’m sorry again for that day. I tried to kiss you, it was weird and you seemed really scared. I still can’t get that image out of my head.” Seeing you being all silent he started to panic. “Say something… please.” 

You were still processing the whole thing. First thing your friend having feelings for you, second being you seemingly discovering that you were not opposed to the idea and your heart was beating so fast it could explode in any moment. So the weird feeling you had been feeling the past few days, weeks even, was something after all. 

You looked up at him, eyes almost teary. “Hold on let me process this.” 

“I’m so sorry, you don’t have to say anything back! I’m just gonna go—“ 

“I like you too.” You shyly smiled. 

“Oh.” The guy’s cheeks turned pink as he giddily smiled back. “That’s nice…” 

“Uh huh.” You giggled. 

“So, wanna hold hands?” He looked away as he offered his hand to you. 

You expected him to be more on the confident playboy type now, guess you were wrong. Guess the same boy you knew still existed. 

You smiled, cheeks turning red as well as you took his hand. “You are such a nerd.” 

Both of you walked hand in hand that night, feeling all warm inside despite the cold night air. 

Thank you for reading! 📸

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Happy New Year.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - may 2025, bring everyone joy and happiness. 🎆🎇, here’s a little something from me to you.

word count - 700.

in which, this new years is the most different one that you and harry have ever spent together, instead of going out to a party, your both cuddled up on the sofa with your newborn fast asleep on there daddies chest.

The living room is quiet except for the soft hum of the television in the corner, where the countdown to midnight ticks away.

The lights are dim, and the Christmas tree in the corner still twinkles faintly, a reminder of how much life has changed in the past two weeks.

Harry sits on the couch, his chest bare, his hair tousled in that effortlessly messy way that makes your heart flutter.

Your baby boy is fast asleep on his chest, his tiny body rising and falling with Harry’s steady breaths.

A soft muslin cloth is draped over Harry’s shoulder—evidence of a just-in-case burp that never came.

You’re curled up beside him, your legs tucked beneath you, watching them both with a soft smile.

"Ten seconds," you whisper, glancing at the screen, the numbers counting down the last moments of 2024.

"Still feels weird, doesn't it?" Harry murmurs, his voice hushed, careful not to wake the baby. His fingers gently stroke the baby’s back, his touch so tender it makes your chest ache. "Not being out f’once, I don’t think we’ve ever stayed in f’new years eve."

You smile, reaching over to run your fingers through his curls. "I don’t think I’d rather be anywhere but here, with you, with him."

Harry looks down at the baby, his lips curving into the softest smile you’ve ever seen. "Neither can I.”

‘Eight…’

"Do you think he’ll be the kind of kid who loves fireworks?" you ask, tilting your head to watch Harry’s expression.

He shrugs, his dimples peeking out as he grins. "Depends. F’he’s like me, probably not. I was always the kid hiding under the kitchen table when they went off."

‘Seven…’

You laugh softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Not me. I loved them. Always wanted to be out in the middle of it all."

Harry tilts his head to rest against yours. "Maybe he’ll take after y’then. Brave little thing."

‘Six…’

The baby stirs slightly, his tiny hand flexing against Harry’s chest, and you both freeze. But he settles again, his soft breaths steady and warm.

"See? Told y’he was brave," Harry whispers, his eyes never leaving the baby.

‘Five…’

You reach out and trace the curve of your son’s cheek, marveling again at how perfect he is. "Can you believe we made him? Like... he’s real."

Harry chuckles softly, his laugh vibrating through the baby’s tiny body. "I know. I keep thinking someone’s gonna knock on the door and tell us s’been a mistake. Like, 'Sorry, y’not allowed to keep him—y’just two kids pretending t’be grown-ups.'"

‘Four…’

"Speak for yourself," you tease. "I’m very mature, thank you."

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, really? Is that why you cried over the last chocolate biscuit yesterday?"

‘Three…’

"That was different," you huff, nudging him gently. "I’m postpartum. I’m allowed to cry over biscuits."

"Fair enough," he concedes, leaning over to kiss the top of your head.

‘Two…’

You both fall quiet, the weight of the moment settling over you.

The new year is seconds away, and for the first time, it doesn’t feel like something you’re rushing toward.

It feels... still.

Peaceful.

Like everything you’ve ever wanted is right here in this room.

‘One…’

Harry looks at you then, his green eyes warm and full of love.

"Happy New Year, m’love."

"Happy New Year," you whisper back, your voice catching slightly.

The television erupts into cheers and fireworks, but it feels distant. Harry leans in, kissing you softly, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek.

The baby snores softly between you, oblivious to the world.

When you pull back, Harry grins. "Best New Year’s ever."

You nod, leaning against him and resting your hand over the baby’s back. "And it’s only just beginning."

[cozage]

Hii!! Can you write some headcanon about how they are with their s/o after 20 or 30 years passed? Or in their old age. Ace Law and Zoro please.(Please include Ace. You know what i mean right? 🥺) With a female reader. Thank you ❤️

A/N:Forgive any typos please :) Characters: gn reader x Ace, Law, Zoro Cw: None :) Total word count: 1k

Years Passed

Ace

After Whitebeard passed, Ace was one of the top contenders to lead the pirate crew, but ultimately the Whitebeard Pirates disbanded. It didn’t feel right without Pops. The two of you sailed around with a smaller ship for a few years before retiring to your favorite island.

That being said, you all still take trips to other islands or sail for a while to celebrate special occasions. 

While you all don’t go out drinking nearly as much as you used to, you’re still regulars at the local tavern. On Friday nights they like to play music, and you trade stories with the new “kids” who are brave enough to take on the Grand Line.

He still brings you breakfast in bed every Saturday morning, complete with fresh-cut flowers. Breakfast is never the same; he always seems to know just what you're in the mood for.

You all ended up having kids. Ace wanted one hundred, but you cut him off after three. 

He still likes to bring home a stray kid he found on the side of the street every now and then, and you never minded having the extra rooms filled for as long as they needed to stay. Some stayed for only a few days, some stayed for years. You loved them all the same.

Just about every night, the two of you make it a priority to sit out and watch the sunset. The moments together are truly what makes life feel worth living

Even after all these years, he sticks up for you and loves you without shame. He’s never afraid to show you off or plant a kiss on your lips when he thinks someone else is eyeing you. He loves to brag about you and all of the light you’ve given him over the years to just about anyone who will listen. 

Law

It took Law a long time to find a place worth settling down in. You all finally decided on Zou.

It made sense. He was a wandering spirit, Zou was a wandering civilization. He could still move about while being in one place. Plus, you always had a feeling he would have a harder time parting with Bepo than he ever let on. 

He ended up working as a doctor for the minks (no surprise there) and found that his favorite part of the day was when he got to help kids feel better. 

Your moment of peace and tranquility, even after all these years, is the morning cup of coffee you all share. You never get tired of that simple moment between the two of you, and you cherish it with your whole heart. 

Every Friday, Bepo’s family comes over for dinner. The kids typically put on some silly play or performance or rope you all into games they want to play, and you all will stay awake far longer than you ever care to admit. 

You always complain about how exhausted you are on Saturdays, and Law promises “We’ll kick them out earlier next week”, but you never do. You would never want to limit your time with Bepo and his family anyway, the complaining is more to get out of any chores you may have promised to do. 

Law loves in the quietest of ways. He prefers to stay in and curl up on the couch, or he’ll bring you a book to read in bed alongside him. But he never goes to sleep without kissing you first. 

Zoro

Zoro still groans when you get out of bed. He almost always pulls you back in with a “five more minutes” mumble. You had begun accounting for this delay years ago, but it still makes your heart flutter when he pulls you back in and wraps his arms around you so that you can’t escape. 

He runs his own dojo now, that operates solely off of donations (and the load of gold you all have from your pirating days). Kids can come to practice, or they can live and work there too. It’s a very satisfying occupation for both of you. 

Funnily enough, Zoro found a strange love for cooking. Well, grilling. He loves to grill. You used to joke about it being a necessary qualification to be a dad, but now he just tries to grill everything. Dinner is almost always covered, but you never know what new thing he’s going to try (and yes, he does have a really corny apron like “#1 Grillmaster” or something).

He likes to stay in most of the time nowadays. If you go out, it’s usually to a small place that is more family-style than bars. 

However, he likes to go to a bar with you sometimes and pretend that you all don’t know each other. He’ll spend the whole night flirting with you and finally end the night with “So, you coming home with me or what?”. He ALWAYS has new pickup lines or witty things to say to you. 

Zoro prefers to keep you to himself. He guards you fiercely and will defend you to death if someone even considers looking at you wrong. The first thing he teaches at the dojo is that you deserve respect above anyone else, and disrespect to you will mean immediate dismissal from the program. He can’t stand to see anything that might cause you pain.

[asahicore]

cherry pits - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. dad!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. Your alarmingly empty bank account forces you to find a last-minute summer job so that you can afford a trip with your friends. The extremely handsome customer that comes into the store just happens to be a young single dad who's renovating the old house next to yours. The tension that settles between the two of you as you start helping him fix up his house soon becomes unbearable, but it's all one-sided anyway, right?

(Spoiler: wrong.)

genre. DILF AUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!, neighbors au, s2l, summer au, slight age gap (reader is 21 and hoon 26), reader is so down bad over sunghoon its actually crazy but also extremely relatable cause this is sunghoon we're talking about, fluff and smut, sex gets freakyyy ngl

word count. 12.9k

a/n. hey sisters had no time to write anything this week so i am coming back (everybody boos) with a repost yayyy!!! i actually love this story idkw i just find it fun so i hope you guys will enjoy rereading / reading it !!!! as always let me know ur thoughts.. even if they're just incomprehensible screaming (bad or good).. im happy w anything ok bye!!!

You’ve always wondered about the ratio of cherry to pit. Such a big pit for so little flesh, isn’t it? Yet that’s never stopped you from biting into the small fruit, eating what you could and spitting out the unwanted part. You actually rather enjoy this whole process. Bite, eat, spit. You could repeat this with huge bowls of cherries at a time until they upset your stomach and you had to stop for your own good.

Bite, eat, spit is exactly what you’re doing when, with a trembling finger, you finally brave to open your banking app and check your balance. It’s the beginning of summer, and after two semesters of intense studying and too-much-coffee drinking, you think you deserve three long months of doing nothing but hanging out in your childhood bedroom and eating the food your parents buy and make. You’re especially looking forward to the vacation in Mexico you have planned with your friends at the end of August.

One look at your bank account and your dreams of white beaches and seas so blue you couldn’t tell them apart from the sky shatter around you, the sad, low numbers on the screen sneering at you mockingly. You were sure you had saved enough money from part-time jobs and generous relatives, but now you regret all of those night-outs and lazy takeaways. If you had cut down on those, maybe you wouldn’t have to go through the hassle of finding a summer job at the last minute, which you would definitely have to do if you wanted to eat something on that dear beach of yours and not just starve to death under the glaring sun.

That was it - tomorrow, you’d go and get a job. Today, however, you’d enjoy your last day of respite and eat some more cherries, or maybe make some jam and a pie so your parents wouldn’t chide you for eating them all, and then go pick some more from the three trees in your backyard. You’d sit outside, enjoying the warmth of the sun while you read or, if you couldn’t be asked, while you listened to the bustle of the old and worn-down house next door being renovated. You’re surprised someone had the courage to buy it and give it a new life, but you assume that’s the kind of courage that comes with having time and money. 

Yesterday night, you’d heard a little girl playing outside until her mom called her in saying it was time to go, so you made up a story of your neighbors being newlyweds that had decided they’d had enough of the city and wanted to raise their daughter in a calmer town far from busy streets and loud honks. You could bring them some cherries, maybe in jam or pie form, as a housewarming gift.

Unfortunately, the day passed and you were too busy doing nothing to actually get around to baking, so you decided to do nothing some more and then go to bed, needing rest before your big job hunt.

You’d gravely overestimated the amount of job opportunities in your small hometown, only receiving apologetic looks from the store owners as they tell you they don’t need any help, or worse, already have someone. Damn those 16-year-olds who only get summer jobs so they can blow their whole pay in a couple weeks before school starts again. You, on the other hand, need that money for important things, like sipping on a cocktail at a bar with a seaview.

The local hardware store next to the train station is your saving grace. It looks quite small from the outside, but once you step inside, rows of lamps and mirrors in all shapes and sizes along with all kinds of household needs welcome you, followed by a section for gardening and pet caretaking. The basement is where all the paints and brushes were, as well as the more technical (technical to you, at least) products, like bolts and tools or kitchen and bathroom appliances.

A lot of people undertake renovations in their homes during their free time in the summer, so it’s important for the store to have their experts helping out customers in their dedicated aisles rather than working behind the till and restocking the shelves, which is what you will be doing for the next two months. The pay is slightly above minimum wage and with twenty-one hours of work a week, you’ll earn more than enough to enjoy your vacation. You start tomorrow.

Your co-workers are happy to welcome a new face into their team. They’re nice even if they have the tendency to drone on about different types of tools and the importance of choosing the right brush for the surface you’re painting, which you don’t particularly care about, but you think you might as well learn as much as you can during your time here; it might always come in handy later.

As you expected, it isn’t the most stimulating job ever, but you aren’t bored out of your mind either. You make small talk with customers as they explain their purchases, some more defensively than others, even if you didn’t ask. You make sure to restock the shelves correctly and sometimes ask for help when you feel your arms giving out after hours of carrying heavy stuff. When no one’s in, you like to rearrange the cute bathroom decorations so that they make a little rainbow of toothbrush and soap holders.

You were daydreaming about what you would do with your friends in Mexico and all the cherries you could eat there when a man so handsome you thought he was a part of your dream walks in. He doesn’t notice (or maybe he just ignores it, you’re not sure) your gawking and smiles at you, saying “hello” before turning his attention to the map which details where everything is stored at the entrance of the shop. You manage a small “h-hello” back that probably doesn’t even reach his ears, and you curse yourself for doing a poor job of greeting a customer just because said customer looks like he’s been pushed from the heavens above onto this unworthy earth by the other angels who were jealous of his beauty. 

You stay put behind the counter the whole time he’s there to avoid the potential embarrassment of running into him in a random aisle and making a fool of yourself. There isn’t much to do anyway, so you rearrange the organic protein bars and chewing-gum at the counter and count all the money in the cash register to distract yourself. He doesn’t spend a very long time browsing and after twenty minutes, you see him approach with a cart full of the biggest cans of paint the store offers. It’s mostly white paint, but there are some browns and grays, and one of pink as well.

You thank God for those twenty minutes because they allowed you to get a hold of yourself so that you didn’t gape at him like a dead fish instead of scanning his articles, which is what you are very professionally and expertly doing. “That’s a lot of paint,” you comment lightheartedly, partly just to prove to yourself that you can also speak in front of this man.

“I know,” he chuckles, and it seems unfair that his voice should be just as attractive as his face. “The previous owners of the house I just bought had terrible taste in wallpaper and wall colors, so I have to repaint basically the whole house. Everything has to go, really. The floors, the furniture, the lights.”

“Sounds like you’re going to have a busy summer. That’ll be $132.76, please.”

“I’ll pay by card,” he says as he brings his wallet out from his back pocket and inserts his card into the reader, which allows you to look freely at his tanned arms and the veins that protrude here and there. He can’t be older than thirty, so there’s probably not that much of an age difference between the two of you, but damn does he look more mature in the sexiest way possible than all of the male college students you’re used to seeing on a daily basis. If anything, he reminds you of the hot young Linguistics professor your whole department likes to drool over. 

The beep of the payment being accepted snaps you out of your daze. “And yeah, it’ll sure be a busy summer. I’ll need a lot of stuff from here, so you might have to get used to seeing me around,” he says with a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this walking Greek god of a man is actually flirting with you, but the glint in his eyes tells you it wasn’t just an off-hand comment.

“I could get used to that,” you surprise yourself by replying confidently, your smile mirroring his as pretty dimples appear on each side of his face.

You hand him the receipt and notice his eyes flickering down to your name tag before trapping yours in his gaze once again. You don’t think you ever want to look away. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he says and walks out with his cart and his tons of paint before you can say anything, lest ask his name, except for “see you.”

You take a deep breath in and another out when he’s out of sight, trying to calm your racing heart. You can’t wait to rave to the girls’ group chat about this, but one of your coworkers calls you for help and you have to put the handsome stranger to the back of your mind for a while.

—

That weekend, your parents ask you to do something about the cherries slowly starting to spoil in the fridge, so you put on your headphones and listen to an audiobook for entertainment, then get to pitting. It feels wrong to listen to The Kiss Quotient and its many smut scenes when your parents are coming and going out of the room, but what they don’t know won’t kill them; you just try to keep your reactions to a minimum during the extra spicy scenes.

Pitting cherries is an arduous task that always takes longer than you think it will, but you never complain about it. You’ve found the perfect technique of cutting them in half around the pit, turning the small fruit without squeezing it, extracting the stone and making sure it doesn’t get confused and end up in the bowl with the pitted cherries, all without tiring your wrists after ten minutes. A surprise pit in a cherry pie can add to the charm of a homemade dessert, but you’d rather not have to spit out five of them while trying to eat one slice.

You prepare a crumbly dough to make two classic American-style pies and fill four jars with cherry jam that you cook while the doughs rest. It’s almost offensive how small the cherries become as they cook, the amount that fills those four jars having filled eight before, but you decide there’s no reason to take it personally since the cherries don’t do it on purpose, and put the jars away to cool down. You roll out the first rested dough and despair for a bit when it keeps on falling apart, but it just makes it more satisfying once you have it perfectly thinly rolled out and covering the tin. The second one is a bit nicer to you and you only have to try rolling it out twice. 

Two hours later, as the sun finally starts to relent and a cooler breeze flows through the air, the pies are all baked, cooled and ready to be eaten. You leave one for you and your parents to enjoy later, then head over to the next house to greet your new neighbors with the other pie. You knock and wait for a good thirty seconds before getting any sort of response, making you think no one’s in.

“Y/N?” a semi-familiar voice calls out, and your head whips in its direction. If this were a cartoon or a 2012 teen show, you’d probably drop the pie tin, but thankfully, your hands aren’t that sweaty, and the shock of the man from the other day at the store being your neighbor isn’t that great, because of course, of course he’s your neighbor. You’re Y/N, after all; the almighty gods above would never let you have a boring, uneventful summer. Of course the hot new man in town is your neighbor.

“Oh! Hi! Guess we’re neighbors. Ha,” you say with a clumsy smile, holding the tin over your forearm as your other hand shields your eyes from the sunlight so you can look at him without squinting your eyes.

“Neighbors?” he repeats as he joins you on the front porch, taking off his gloves dirtied by the mud and using the back of his hand to wipe off some sweat from his forehead. The sweat makes his hair stick to his face and there are small beads of it falling from his hairline down onto his white t-shirt. You detect the slightest of stubbles on his chin and upper lip, probably from not having shaved for just a day or two. He’s even tanner than when you saw him a few days ago, and his thick eyebrows form a straight line as he frowns in what you guess is tiredness and perhaps confusion from seeing you in regular clothes and holding a pie tin on his porch. For a second, you’re scared he might think you’re some kind of stalker, but you nod and tilt your head towards your house. 

“Yep. That one just over there behind you.”

He turns his upper body to take a look at your house and nods slowly as he turns back around, gaze finding yours again like the other day at the store. You have no idea who this man is - hell, you don’t even know his name - but good lord are you attracted to him, especially when he gives you that unreadable smile that shows off his dimples. 

“Huh. What a coincidence,” he says, and that could mean anything in the world, but you hope he means it in a good way. “I’m Sunghoon, by the way.” he adds, extending his hand for you to take, which you do, and the simple action of shaking his hand without eye contact ever breaking is enough to send shivers down your spine. Hopefully, this goes unnoticed by this Sunghoon.

A walking wet dream. That’s what this man is. He’s walked right out of your deepest Wattpad-induced fantasies and into the house next door. Probably doesn’t help that you’d been listening to literary porn just fifteen minutes prior. 

“Is that pie?” he asks as he releases your hand.

“It is, cherry pie I made myself with cherries from our backyard. A housewarming gift, if you will. Here,” you reply, offering him the tin.

He takes it from your hands, the tips of his fingers slightly grazing yours, on purpose or not, you’re not sure. He lifts some of the aluminum covering the pie and peeks underneath, then hums appreciatively. “Thanks, it looks really good. I’ve been living off of ready-meals and casseroles from the neighbors, so this’ll be really nice.”

“Well we’ve got tons of cherries, so feel free to ask whenever you want some,” you offer, and he nods. A small silence settles between the two of you and you’re about to excuse yourself so it doesn’t get awkward when he invites you in, asking if you’d like to have a piece with him.

“If you want to, I mean. I was gonna take a break anyway,” he says somewhat coyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. You’re surprised to see him being anything else other than confident and self-assured, but it only makes him look cuter in your eyes.

“Sure,” you accept with a smile, letting him lead you inside the house.

“Sorry, it smells like paint all over the house. That’s why I was outside, doing some gardening while I aired the house out,” he explains. “Let me just get some plates and a knife out. And something for us to drink. Do you want to drink something? I’ve got water, or some iced tea or lemonade. The grandma across the street made some for me,” he says all at once, and you suppress a giggle at his sudden nervous behavior.

“Sunghoon?”

“Yeah?” he responds almost immediately, turning to you just as you both reach the kitchen.

“Just water is fine.”

A shy smile makes his dimples appear once again as he nods. “Okay, sounds good.” You help him carry everything to the back porch and set down the glasses and a jug of water on a table with two chairs around it.

“The porches are the only parts I won’t have to fix up too much, for some reason.”

“You’re going to redo the whole house yourself?” you ask, surprised, as you pour two glasses of water and he serves you a slice of cherry pie (“there might be some stray cherry pits, so be careful,” you warn as he sets a slice on his plate).

“A lot of it, yeah, but I’ve also got some people to help out. My dad’s a carpenter so I know my way around these things, but I also know it’s better and faster to have more than one man on the job, so some guys he works with come a couple times a week.”

“Yeah, with the state this house is in, you’d need more than a summer if you did everything yourself,” you comment, and he chuckles, agreeing. “My friends and I used to make stories about how this place is haunted, you know,” you say jokingly.

“Please don’t jinx my house from the get-go,” he says, making you laugh.

“Sorry, sorry. It’ll be nice seeing it all fixed-up, actually.”

“Have you lived here long?” he asks, looking at you thoughtfully as he takes another bite of the pie. “This is really good, by the way.”

“Thanks. And yeah, my whole life. I go away when semester starts but come back for the holidays and the summer.”

“So you're a student?”

“Yeah, just at the state university a few hours away. Not too far away that it’s a hassle traveling back, but not too close that I go home every weekend. What about you, what do you do?”

You wait for his answer while he swallows his mouthful and take another bite yourself. “I teach,” he starts as he dabs the corners of his lips with a napkin. “Fifth graders, on the other side of town. I used to live in a small apartment near the school I work at but it’s nicer, having more space. I saved enough money to buy this house and fix it up, so here I am now,” he says, gesturing to the house and the garden with his arms. 

You notice his use of the first person pronoun when he talks about where he used to live and his house now, which makes you wonder if it’s just him, even though you were sure you heard a woman and a young girl’s voices the other day. Surely, if he wasn’t single, he wouldn’t have invited you in or given you flirtatious looks, right? Or were you reading totally wrong into this and he was just an exceptionally friendly person?

You put these questions to the side and continue chatting with Sunghoon, letting the subject of his marital status come up on its own during your conversation. And indeed, you get your answer when he tells you about the different parts of the house he plans on having, one of them being a bedroom for his daughter.

“Oh, so you have a daughter? How old is she?” you ask as you take a sip of water, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Considering his age, you expect that his child will be one, two years old max, so his answer makes you almost choke on your drink.

“She’s turning eight this summer.”

“Eight?” you repeat as you set your glass down, looking at him wide-eyed. So much for nonchalance. “But you’re so-”

“Young? Yeah, I know,” he interrupts with a knowing smile, probably used to this kind of reaction. “I’m 26,” he adds, then watches as you do the simple math in your head. When you turn to him with a surprised look, he answers your question before you’ve even asked it. “Yep, I had her when I was 18.”

“Wow,” is all you can say. “Can I ask what happened?”

“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing extraordinary or anything. I was in my last year of high school, and I got my girlfriend at the time pregnant. We’d only been dating four months but her parents wouldn’t let her get an abortion. They’re really religious. They took care of our baby, with the help of my parents, while I went to community college and she retook senior year since she had to drop out halfway through the year. No, we’re not together anymore, if you’re wondering,” he says, catching you off guard, as if he’d read your thoughts. 

He chuckles before sighing and continues. “If none of this had happened, we’d probably have broken up before going off to college and proceeded to forget about each other. We started out living with her parents, then got that small apartment I told you about when she found a job. We’re not on bad terms by any means, but we’ve just not been in love since Chaeryeong turned 2, probably. We’ve been more roommates than a couple for the past six years. And you know, we kept on living together for Chaer mainly, but she’s found a new boyfriend and I wanted to have my own place. Which has led me here.”

You nod slowly, letting the whole story sink in. “You’re both handling this situation really maturely, it sounds like. I’ve heard of so many teenage parents fighting all the time and not taking care of their kids properly.”

“She’s already got a weird parental situation, it’s the least we can do for her to behave like adults, you know.”

“Right, of course,” you say, nodding again. Your hot new neighbor was actually a DILF, you realized a bit inappropriately, perhaps. Cherry on top.

He tells you a bit more about his daughter and you keep talking until your dad calls you, asking you why you’re not home at dinner time, and you only notice then how long you’ve been sitting there with Sunghoon, just talking. You tell him you feel bad for taking up so much of his time but he shakes your apologies off.

“It was my pleasure, really. And thanks again for the pie, I think Chaer will love it.”

He walks you to the front door and calls out your name after you’ve waved goodbye and started walking. You didn’t know you had been expecting him to do anything until you heard the hopeful tone in your own voice. “Yeah?”

“You any good with kids?” he asks, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms and a smirk that makes your heart flutter.

Although you’ve only got one older brother, you have younger cousins as well as older ones that have babies of their own, so you’re not a complete stranger to kids, but more importantly, you like them. They have the world to learn, but they say surprisingly smart things and have really cute faces.

“I’d say that I am, yeah,” you reply, a smile growing on your face, mirroring his expression.

“Good,” he says, and pauses a second for good measure. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later, Sunghoon,” you say as you turn back and head to your house, letting him enjoy the view of you walking away. 

On the short way home, you realize that you completely have the hots for your neighbor, although you probably knew that before. Is it twisted that you like him more now that you know he’s got a kid? Probably a little bit, but you’re not going to fight it. He’s single, after all. And not even thirty. A five-year gap isn’t unheard of. 

Your parents ask you where you’ve been as you set the table and get ready for dinner. “Just over at our new neighbor’s house to give him some pie and say hi,” you say as you toss the salad in its bowl, spreading the dressing evenly. 

“Ooh, the neighbor,” your mother echoes knowingly, wiggling her eyebrows, and steals a leaf of lettuce when it falls from the bowl because of your vigorous tossing. “We should have him over at some point, welcome him into the neighborhood. I’ve seen him a bit, you know. Out painting on his front porch or when he was in his garden the same time as me. He’s a very attractive young man,” she says, lowering her voice so your dad doesn’t hear even though he’s outside grilling the meat. “Do you know how old he is? Looks a bit young for a homeowner to me, but who knows what young people are up to these days.

“He’s twenty-six, and he’s saved a lot of money. Plus, I don’t think that house was very expensive. From what he’s told me, the renovations will basically cost as much as the house itself. He’s also got a kid.”

“Aw, must be a cute baby,” she says as your father walks in, carrying a tray of steaming barbecued steaks and potatoes.

“She’s eight,” you say bluntly, causing them both to look at you with wide eyes.

“Oh, right, then. Happens,” your mother says, bringing her glass of water to her lips and taking a sip from it. “Is he still with the mother?”

“They broke up a while ago, but they’re on good terms,” you say, and your mom nods slowly at the information.

“So, he’s single, huh?” she says, trying to hide her smile, earning herself a groan from your dad and a chuckle from you. 

“C’mon, mom!”

“What? You can’t deny that he’s attractive, and he’s single. Plus, you two must get along well if you spent a couple hours talking. Sure, he’s got a kid, but you love those, don’t you?”

“Mom, you of all people would know kids aren’t pets. Dating someone with an eight-year-old isn’t the same as dating someone with a cat.

“No one’s asking you to be that girl’s mom,” she says, dishing out some meat for the three of you. “I’d go get that man, if I were you.”

Your dad shakes his head and you eat your food as you listen to them bickering with a smile. You think about what your mother said - should you go and get Sunghoon? Your heart says yes, but your brain is a bit more reluctant. Another part of your body, lower down there, is screaming ‘yes’ at you.

He does live right by, after all.

That night, you FaceTime your roommate and best friend from college and bring her up to date about ‘the hot man from the store the other day.’ She paints her toenails but listens intently as she always does when you talk about boys, humming and chuckling here and there.

“God, Y/N, I didn’t know you had daddy issues, of all things.”

You gasp fake-dramatically. “Excuse me, I do not! I was attracted to him before I knew he was a dad, I’ll let you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let me know when you guys actually hook up, I’m curious whether older men are actually better,” she says, making you scoff.

“I hope he is. I’m very much tired of those boys that don’t know where the clit is and use too much tongue.”

“You know, when I complain to my mom about guys, she always tells me to wait it out a few years. She says they get more mature and, well, she didn’t say that outright, but she very heavily implied that the sex is much, much better. Kinda gross hearing it from her, but it’s good information.”

You hum. “Well, he’s not that much older… But let’s hope that it still makes a difference,” you say, and then move on to another topic. 

—

One thing that eating cherries has taught you is that if you want to enjoy eating the sweet flesh, you’ll need to deal with the pit as well. Ever the grand philosopher, you realized soon enough that this was applicable to real life and not just your favorite fruit. Wanna get a good grade on your test? Gotta study for it. Wanna go on holiday to Mexico? Gotta find a summer job and earn money.

Wanna make your way to Sunghoon’s bed? Gotta seduce him.

Over the following days, you stand behind the counter at the hardware store, elbow perched on the hard surface, head resting on your palm and vision fuzzy as you daydream about your next encounter with Sunghoon. More often than not, a customer will clear their throat to awkwardly let you know of their presence and you’ll have to exchange your imagined dialogue with Sunghoon for a quick apology and some pleasantries; more often than not, a coworker will call out your name for some help just as you get to the juicy part of your reverie. In those moments, you always feel like you’ve been caught red-handed watching softcore porn, even if no one knows the last thing about what goes on in your head, nor do they care. 

Much like the first time he walked into the store, when he does again on a Thursday morning, you think your daydreams have just gone too far and you’re now hallucinating. But, lo and behold, this is the true Park Sunghoon in the flesh, and he smiles and waves at you as he strides in before disappearing behind one of the many aisles.

You spend the next fifteen minutes going over witty conversation starters that will surely make him fall for you, only for you to stutter out a “h-hi, Sunghoon,” when he finally reaches the counter.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he jokes, and you laugh a bit too hard for a comment that isn’t that funny.

“How are the renovations going?” you ask as you scan his articles - some more paint and brushes, lots of tile glue, a bunch of nails and two different sizes of turnscrews. He frowns in concentration at the snacks next to the counter until he caves in and gets a chocolate protein bar that’s more sugar than protein. 

“Pretty okay,” he starts. “I’m in a bit of a rush, cause Chaer is already coming in two weeks and I need to have finished at least the interior by that time. My dad’s friends helped me get the roof done, so that’s good, but now they’re all busy with other sites so it's just me. Right now I’m redoing the tiles in the bathrooms. You need so much damn glue,” he says with a chuckle.

You think for a second, then timidly offer, “I could help out, you know. If you needed me to.” 

He looks at you with raised eyebrows, halfway through getting his card out of his wallet. “Really?”

“I mean, I don’t have much experience with this kinda stuff, but I’ve picked up a few things here and there from working here. If it saves you time, I could do the easy things. This job isn’t particularly physically demanding so I’ve still got energy at the end of the day. That’s $78.96, please.”

A small smile appears on his face as he inserts his card into the reader. He punches in his code and then returns your gaze. “That could be nice, actually.”

And that’s how you find yourself over at Sunghoon’s house in denim shorts and your dad’s old t-shirts almost everyday for the next two weeks, helping him fix up the old two-storey home. He measures out the perfect length for wood planks or marble tiles that you assist him in fastening to the floors of different rooms and he fixes holes in walls that you paint over afterwards. Sometimes on your breaks, you share a bowl of cherries that you brought from your garden. (One morning, you tried to make cherry juice out of them, but when after almost two hours of pitting the liquid barely filled a glass, you decided that it was too much effort and that you’d keep on just eating them and baking the occasional pie.) You asked him to tell you what each of the rooms upstairs would be and you realized that the window of his room faced yours directly. The blinds were down as they had always been, so you hadn’t known what the room would be.

“I’ve been sleeping on the couch since I haven’t gotten around to fixing up this room yet. Guess I should get to it, though,” he says, giving you a look that blurs the meaning of his words so that you’re not sure what he’s implying, which happens a bit too often with Sunghoon.

And you’d think that spending the better part of two weeks with the current man of your dreams would be amazing, right? 

Wrong. It’s unbearable.

Maybe that’s exaggerating it - it’s mostly fun, and sometimes unbearable. Usually, you’re an avid fan of sexual tension, especially with attractive men like Sunghoon. Lingering gazes, eye contacts when there shouldn’t be any, remarks with a deeper meaning that they let on, barely-there touches on the back of your hand or on your waist that manage to take your breath away. These are all very fine things that keep your heart bouncing and a blush on your cheeks, but they are supposed to amount to something more in the end. Maybe you’re impatient, but after two weeks of sending sex through your eyes to Sunghoon, you get the feeling that he doesn’t reciprocate your desire. One afternoon, you’d made sure to go and sunbathe in your bikini at the exact moment he was doing some work outside, and even then, he merely gave your body a one-over and disappeared a few minutes later inside his house. When he came back about ten minutes later, he could still barely look at you.

At the same time, there’s no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he stands close behind you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest against your back, big, rough hands enveloping yours as he demonstrates how to cut a plank of wood with the machine. There’s no way the way he smirks when the action turns you into a stammering mess is innocent, either.

Yet nothing happens. The tension is thick enough to be cut with a knife, but maybe Sunghoon hasn’t bought cutlery yet. The air is already heavy from the heat and the relentlessness of the sun, but this thing between you and him makes it almost suffocating, in somehow the best yet worst way possible. You’re this close to simply throwing your naked body at him, and it doesn’t help that you see his flexing, working muscles and beads of sweat on his hairline everyday. On the days he wears shorts, which is most days, all you can think of is getting off on his thick thighs, of his hands holding you tightly by the waist, of the way he’d look at you, eyes clouded over, of the words he’d whisper in your-

Your phone buzzes, interrupting you in your horny downward spiral. It’s your dear mother telling you to come home for dinner. As you pick up your phone, a second buzz. Ask Sunghoon if he wants to eat with us. 

You find him in his bedroom, adding the last touches to the walls. “I think I’ll be able to sleep here starting tomorrow night. I just need to go buy a bed,” he says when he sees your figure standing in the doorway.

“We can go together if you want,” you blurt before you can stop yourself. Hoping it’ll make you seem less weird, you add, “I’ve got really good taste in furniture.”

“Is that so?” he questions, turning to you with a smile. “I’d appreciate the second pair of eyes, actually. There’s a lot of things I need to get.”

“Yeah, I didn’t wanna comment on it, but I think you’ll end up needing more than a couch, a plastic dining table and two chairs,” you tease, making him roll his eyes lightheartedly. “We can go to that huge second-hand store they have just outside of town. You’ll be surprised how good - and cheap - the furniture is there.”

“Sounds good,” he nods, and checks his watch. “Are you going home?”

“I am. My mom’s invited you over for dinner, if you’d like,” you say, tilting your head at him.

He raises his eyebrows in delighted surprise. “I’d love to. Just need to shower first.”

“That’s fine. I’ll go home, just come over whenever you’re ready.” You exchange quick see you laters and you head home, taking a shower yourself and making sure to use your best-smelling body lotion.

Sunghoon arrives half an hour later with a bouquet of roses in his hands and an award-winning smile on his face. You let him in and he greets your parents, offering your mother the bouquet. “Sorry I took so much time getting here, I wanted to pick these out as a thank you.”

You can tell your mother is pleased to the heavens as she waves him off, leading him inside your house. “That’s awfully nice of you, Mr Park-”

“Call me Sunghoon, please,” he says with a warm smile.

“Right, Sunghoon. And no worries, you’re just on time. Please, sit.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Oh, no, you’re working all day fixing up that house, just sit and relax. We’re very happy to have you over, aren’t we?” your mother says, sending a very obvious smile your way, which makes you furrow your eyebrows and shake your head lightly at her, silently telling her to shut up. Sunghoon chuckles at the exchange but says nothing and you want to bury yourself and your mother ten feet underground.

Sunghoon sits across from you at the dinner table, which allows you to stare unabashedly at him as he works his charm on your parents. He’s the neighbor, so technically, he’s not a boyfriend you brought home to meet them, but still, you can’t help but compare him to those few boys that you did bring home. None of them were a disaster, but none of them went as smoothly as this, either. There were always some awkward silences and dry chuckles with your past boyfriends, but Sunghoon clearly knows how to make parents happy. Maybe because he lived with his ex’s parents for so long, or maybe because he’s a parent himself. Either way, it only adds to your desire to take all of his clothes and let him rail you into next week. Too bad he clearly doesn’t feel the same way, you remind yourself with an audible sigh, which makes him look curiously at you, but you brush it off with a smile.

You watch as he accepts a beer, compliments the food and the house, talks football with your dad, accepts another beer, and shares teaching anecdotes with your mom, who herself is an elementary school teacher. You jump in every now and then when you have something witty to add or someone asks your opinion on something, but most of the time, you sit back and enjoy, happy that everything is going well. 

You bring out your infamous cherry pie that you’d baked the previous day along with some vanilla ice cream for dessert, and smile when Sunghoon tells you how much he’d been waiting to have some of it again, trying not to blush as his gaze stays focused on yours for a second too long. Thankfully, your parents don’t notice, too busy cutting themselves a slice. 

He stays for another hour or so, until the sun has set and the streetlamps and the moonlight are the only things keeping the world visible. Your mom forces him to accept tupperwares full of leftovers from the night and makes him promise to come back with his daughter. Sneakily, she tells you to help him carry the tupperwares home even though he’s more than able to do it himself, then hugs him goodbye, hurrying you out of the door.

Sunghoon hasn’t yet changed the lightbulbs to more efficient ones, so his kitchen bathes in the faint glow of the overhead lighting as you put away the leftovers in his fridge. He stands a bit to your right close behind you, closer than needed to simply hand you the tupperwares he was holding. When everything is stored, you turn around, but you’re trapped between his body and his arm that holds the fridge door open. With his free hand, he takes you by the waist and pulls you gently towards him. “Careful,” he says so quietly, it’s almost a whisper, and closes the fridge door behind you. 

He’s never been this forward with you, and even though you’ve fantasized many times about this exact moment, now that it’s really happening, you don’t know what to do except to search for an explanation in his eyes. His eyes that are looking right into yours and are a bit clouded over, from the alcohol or the proximity between the two of you or both, you don’t know, but that also have the twinkle of a smile in them. 

His lips are close enough to kiss, you think, and as if on cue, his gaze drifts down to your slightly parted lips. “You’re very pretty, Y/N,” he says, before sealing your lips with his own. You respond immediately to his kiss - you’ve thought too much about it to stand there and do nothing - but it’s all so slow and so soft that you’re not sure if it’s actually happening, so dreamlike it all feels.

You’re called back to reality when his other hand finds your waist, your own hands coming up to his shoulders before one of them snakes its way to the nape of his neck, tugging lightly at his hair. This seems to change something in Sunghoon, who all of a sudden tightens his hold on your waist, his arms wrapping around it to bring you closer to him. His kiss gets faster and deeper too, and, to your surprise but not your distaste, a bit desperate. You’re happy if you have on him half of the power he has on you. You taste sweet vanilla ice cream and tangy beer on his tongue, and it’s not at all unpleasant. It makes you want to eat cherries together so you can then taste them in his kiss. 

A lustful sigh escapes your lips and then the warmth disappears all at once. Sunghoon looks at you like you just woke him up from a deep slumber and takes a step back away from you. You call out for him worriedly and the sound of his name seems to make him think he did something terribly wrong.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I don’t know what came over me. We shouldn’t do this, it’s not- I shouldn’t have done that,” he sighs, looking defeatedly at the ground.

“Why?” you ask quietly, almost inaudible.

“You should go home,” he snaps, then closes his eyes as if in pain, cringing at his harsh tone. “I’m sorry. I think you should go home, it’s getting late,” he repeats, softer this time, but the words still sting.

“O-okay,” you say to the floor, already feeling tears well up in your eyes. You feel like you just got rejected by your high school crush, and the humiliation makes you want to crawl into a hole and die. 

Sunghoon sighs again. “I’ll let you know tomorrow about the furniture shopping, yeah? Chaeryeong is coming in the morning so we can go with her.”

“O-okay,” you repeat, surprised he still wants to do that with you. “Good night, Sunghoon,” you say without looking at him and scurry out of his house.

“Good night, Y/N,” Sunghoon answers to the emptiness after you’ve left, touching his lips with the tips of his fingers and feeling the ghost of your kiss there.

—

Truth be told, you haven’t always loved cherries. Because of a heinous lie your older brother had made you believe when you were just six years old, you hadn’t eaten cherries for two summers in a row. It was the summer your parents had finally allowed you to eat cherries as they came from the trees in your backyard - beforehand, they’d been too scared that you’d choke on the pit or swallow it unknowingly, and had always prepared purées or other forms that cherries can take for you to eat, so to be finally handed the small fruit and told “go ahead, try it,” felt like an honor. 

A simple “don’t forget to spit out the pit” from your mother had sufficed for you to be careful, and yet, your brother had thought a fear tactic would be more effective. “If you swallow it, a tree will grow inside your belly and make you puke out cherries,” he’d lied when it was just the two of you at the outdoor table. 

“Really?” you asked him in disbelief, horror written all over your face as you looked at the seemingly harmless yet deadly fruit in your hand. You’d already eaten two and were in the middle of eating a third; your brother nodding ‘yes’ in response was all it took for you to spit out the cherry furiously and immediately start sobbing, afraid you’d swallowed one even though all three pits were right there on the table, a guarantee that no unwanted flora would grow inside of you. 

Your mother rushed outside at the sound of your wailing and quickly put two and two together when she saw your brother laughing uncontrollably while you hid your face in your hands, desolately imagining your future as a walking cherry tree. She held you tight in her arms as she told your brother off and reassured you that he was just playing a stupid prank on you. Still, the simple thought of swallowing a pit had terrified you and you were unable to eat cherries for the remainder of the summer and the one after that.

This is the story you tell Chaeryeong and her dad as the three of you sit outside together, making them laugh - although, a few minutes later, when Sunghoon is gone to the bathroom away, Chaer leans over the table and whispers, “It’s not true, is it?” so you reassure her that you’ve eaten cherries your whole life and have never had one single root take life in your tummy. 

It’s been a bit over a week after you shared that kiss in his kitchen, and the awkward atmosphere is just starting to fade. You’re glad he didn’t ignore you after that night, even if pretending nothing happened when both of you are very aware that something did happen is only the slightly better alternative. It’s a refreshing change from boys that sleep with you and then act like you don’t exist, for sure.

The kiss hasn’t done anything to burst the tension; if anything, it’s made it even more electric. You catch him looking at your lips more than once and you wonder why he still acts the same way as before when he’s made it very clear he didn’t think kissing you was a good idea. Catching him shirtless one night in his bedroom doesn’t help, and neither does him catching you staring at him - you’d quickly shut the curtains, but it was too late, and he’d seen you ogling his toned chest and abs.

At least, the fact that Chaeryeong is here forces a bubbly atmosphere upon you, and you hope you’re not crazy when you notice him fondly looking at the both of you interacting. Chaer is an outgoing little girl and seems to have liked you as soon as you complimented the toy puppy in her hand, saying you used to have the same and it was your favorite.

The day you went food shopping was practically hell to get through. One evening, you were holding onto Sunghoon for dear life, finally kissing him, and the next afternoon, you were browsing through the endless aisles of your local IKEA, holding his daughter’s hand and pretending like you hadn’t kissed her daddy.

When it got to the bedroom part of the store, you and Chaer decided to try all the mattresses and find the most comfortable one. You usually were never one for seating and laying on random beds in stores, but there was a kid with you, so you were sure it’d be fine. When you found the one you liked most, you looked up at Sunghoon from your position and said, “This one’s pretty good, Sunghoon.” His immediately reddening cheeks told you everything you needed to know and you quickly sat up, clearing your throat. He tested the mattress by pushing his palm against it and muttered a “yeah, it’s pretty good” before scribbling down the number of the mattress onto the small sheet of paper customers use to remember which products they wanted.

Of course, now that Chaer is with him and most of the work in the house is done, save for some minor things that Sunghoon can finish up on his own, you spend a lot less time together. You hate that you miss him so much. You miss the way he makes you feel, like your whole body is on fire with just one look or one touch, the way his stupid jokes make you laugh or how endeared he looks when he talks about his daughter. Seeing him with her only adds to your stupid crush - he’s doting, protective and caring, makes sure she has everything to be happy and manages to treat her at once like the kid that she is but also like a human that has opinions and feelings. He’s a really good dad, and that does nothing whatsoever to stop your DILF fantasies, although now, it’s really Sunghoon that you want, and the fact that he’s a dad isn’t a dealbreaker, it just makes him that much better.

You hate that you miss him, and yet being with him is somehow worse, because you can’t do any of the things you want to do. You fall asleep one two many nights dreaming about his lips and how nice it’d be to feel them again - on your lips, on your neck, everywhere. You want to feel him everywhere, and this longing lust is starting to drive you crazy. You’d never wanted anyone this much.

He invites you over for dinner one night, and the look he gives you when he opens the door sends a shiver right down your spine. “Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi, Sunghoon.”

He leads you into the kitchen with a hand on your waist, even though you’ve been in his house many times before and need no assistance getting there. A small, horny voice at the back of your head tells you that tonight may be the night, but you quickly shut it down, not wanting to get your hopes up all on your own.

Sunghoon serves you a glass of red wine, and you ask him what the occasion is. “Just to celebrate the house being almost done,” he answers with a smile.

Dinner would have gone as usual if Sunghoon wasn’t practically staring you down the whole time, eyes full of something you can’t quite put your finger on and that drives you crazy. His gaze lingers on you every time you speak, and he punctuates the syllables of your name like he’s trying to get a feel for them on his tongue.

Your heart is pounding in your chest when the clock strikes nine p.m. and it’s time for Chaeryeong to go to bed - you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle being alone with Sunghoon, and you might have to make a run for it, Cinderella-style. 

Chaer goes to the bathroom to wash up and change into her pajamas, and when she comes back, she asks - no, demands - that you’re the one who tucks her in, and who are you to say no to the cutest little girl on Earth? She holds you by the pinky as she drags you up the stairs to her room then buries herself in her covers, tapping on the bed next to her body for you to sit there. “Okay, now we can talk without Dad around,” she says all business-like.

She tells you about the boys at her school and the birthday party she went to last week and the latest drama with her friends. The both of you are too busy chatting and giggling to hear footsteps coming up the stairs and stopping at her door, hiding behind the wall. After ten minutes, she yawns loudly and says, “Can you call Dad? I think he’ll be sad if he doesn’t wish me good night.”

“Of course,” you reply and kiss her on the forehead, wishing her a good night yourself. You’re only half-surprised to find Sunghoon at the doorway, waiting for his cue.

“Wait up for me, yeah? I’ll just be a minute,” he says, that smile still on his lips, that smile that keeps you hoping.

“Okay,” you whisper, and head downstairs, nervously taking a sip from your wine glass as you wait for him on the living room couch.

He is indeed back in a very short time, too short a time for your nerves to settle, so when he sits down close to you on the couch, body turned towards yours, you can feel your heart in your throat. He traces the rim of his glass with the tip of his pointer finger and you both watch the slow movement for a bit, a heavy silence hanging over both of your heads. You wait for him to talk because you’re too scared of what you might say if you start the conversation.

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking,” he starts shakily, “about um, our kiss, the other day-”

“Oh, we don’t need to talk about that,” you quickly interrupt, waving your hand in dismissal at him. “You made it clear you didn’t like it-”

“No, that’s the thing-”

“And that you thought it was a bad idea-”

“No, just listen-”

“So let’s just forget about it, and-”

“Y/N,” Sunghoon says in a stern voice, raising his tone just enough to make you stop in your rambling.

“Yeah?” you look up at him, eyes wide open. Expecting, as always.

“I haven’t once stopped thinking about that kiss,” he says, sounding out-of-breath. “I handled it awfully, and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t like it, because, God, I liked it. A lot,” he chuckles. “Maybe even too much.”

There they are, the words you’ve been dying to hear. Yet all you can say is a stupid “Oh.”

“I just… I was tipsy, and Chaeryeong was coming the next morning, and I panicked. I didn’t know what to do for the rest of the week, and you didn’t say anything, so I didn’t, either. But I can’t pretend like it isn’t there.”

“Like what isn’t there?” you echo, voice almost low as a whisper.

“You know… this,” he replies, voice as low as yours. Slowly, one of his hands comes up to trace your jawline. You release a shaky breath as you set your wine glass on the coffee table and rest your hand on his knee.

“Are you sure about this? ‘Cause if you tell me that you want me… then I’ll be all yours, Sunghoon,” you murmur, hands slowly sliding up his thigh. He takes you by the wrist and puts your hand right on top of his already growing erection, letting you know exactly how he feels about you.

“God, can’t you see what you do to me? I want you so bad, Y/N,” he almost growls, and with that, his lips are on yours, trapping you into a kiss far hungrier and more ferocious than the previous kiss, your mutual intentions finally laid out in front of you for you both to see.

Sunghoon wastes no time as he grabs you by the waist and brings you to his lap, sitting you on top of his crotch so that you can feel his hardening cock against your core. The kiss turns desperate in mere seconds, and you’re relieved to see that Sunghoon seems to have been waiting for this as long and with as much ardor as you have. Your hands are fisting his hair, tugging almost harshly, while his hands roam the expanse of your back until they settle on your ass, grabbing at it to press you closer to him. You can’t stop yourself from moaning into his mouth when his erection rubs over your core in just the right way, and he takes that opportunity to add tongue to the kiss, deepening it.

You start to grind yourself against him, which he helps you do by slightly rutting his hips into yours and bringing your ass closer at every movement. Quickly, you fall into a rhythm so perfect and that feels so good, you think you might explode right then and there. Forget riding his thigh, this is infinitely better.

Needing to catch your breath, you pull away from the kiss, but your lips find his jaw immediately and you start pressing wet, needy kisses there and down his neck, sucking in some spots so that light bruises appear. “Fuck, Y/N, that feels so nice,” he breathes, eyes shut closed. His scent drives you crazy, and his small praise makes you double down on your actions, almost biting the soft skin of his neck.

As you continue kissing him there, occasionally returning to his lips for more, his hands roam your thighs and then up your back, snaking themselves under your t-shirt and finding the clasp of your bra, quickly doing away with it. He pulls away just so he can help you out of your top and takes your bra off of you, hands caressing your sides as he admires your half-naked body in all its glory. You take his hands and bring them to your chest, resting your hands on top of his as you continue grinding onto him and let him play with your boobs. “You’re so fucking hot,” he practically moans, making you chuckle. You reach for the hem of his t-shirt, because it’s only fair that you get to see him too, and you bite back a moan when he uses the absence of your hands on his to pinch your nipples lightly, then takes one in his mouth, catching you off-guard. You forget all about your plan of undressing him as his tongue flicks at the perked bud, your hands finding his hair again as you moan unabashedly. 

“S-Sunghoon,” you breathe, the combined feelings of his now fully hard cock pressing against your clothed but soaking cunt and of his warm mouth around your nipples really getting to your head and making you see stars, so that all you can say is his name. “Please,” you beg, you’re not sure what for. Mercy, perhaps. Or release.

“Please what, baby?” he asks, and the nickname goes straight to your core.

“I don’t- just, please, Sunghoon, please,” you say incoherently, making him chuckle.

“Okay,” he says as if he can read your mind, and you think he actually does when he lays you down on the couch, fingers finding the zipper of your shorts. He unbuttons them and slides them down your legs along with your soaked panties. He makes sure they’re fully off of your body before running his palms up both of your legs, from your ankles to your hips.

“Don’t tease, please,” you plead, too desperate for him to take his time.

“As you wish, princess,” he smirks, and brings a finger to your folds, sliding it down to gather some slick before pushing it inside your hole. Your back arches as an instant response to his touch and you let out a small whine, already craving for more. “Fuck, so wet, and all for me, yeah?” he questions, his eyes not once leaving your glistening pussy.

“Yes,” you breathe out, mind too fuzzy to produce a longer sentence.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos, and adds another finger, pushing all three of his knuckles in and massaging your sweet spot as soon as he finds it. When he’s found a rhythm for his motions, he finally looks up at you and curses himself for not having watched your face earlier. Head tilted back in pleasure, mouth agape as your breathing gets more and more irregular and eyebrows scrunched together, you look like the definition of sex, and it takes everything in Sunghoon to not start touching himself.

He forces himself to look away from you only to focus back on your pussy and notices your swollen clit that is begging for attention. He licks it tentatively, and when your back arches at the feeling of his tongue on you, he dives in completely, licking a stripe up your folds before wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking at it like he did with your nipples earlier. The pace at which his fingers are pumping out of you quickens and you’re pulling so hard at his hair, you think you might rip some strands off. You feel yourself getting close, and you’re reminded of all those frustrating encounters with college boys where they stopped right before you came, so you can’t stop yourself as you desperately chant “oh my God please don’t stop please don’t stop,” not even noticing the way you’re holding his head down against your clit and bucking your hips into his face.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck - this is probably the first one you’ve received from someone other than your own hand or your vibrator in the past year and a half. It takes your breath away, and you’re left gasping for air for a good thirty seconds, your mind reeling from the intensity of such pleasure. When you calm down, you lift your head to look at Sunghoon who’s already watching you with a grin on his face, your slick coating his chin and mouth.

You plop your head back down with a groan when realization hits you. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Sunghoon commands, hands rubbing your still-trembling thighs. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he marvels, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Really?”

“Really.”

After another couple of seconds, you sit up on the couch and send Sunghoon a mischievous look. My turn, you think, and if his smile is any indicator then he seems to have understood. “Let me thank you,” you say, gesturing at him to sit up himself as you lower yourself to your knees on the couch in front of him.

You look up at him from between his thighs then unclasp his belt and undo his jeans. He lets out a shaky breath and says, “You don’t need to do this, you know-”

“Don’t be a gentleman, Sunghoon. I want to do this and I know you want it too. It’s pretty obvious,” you tease as you run your hand over his erection, watching in delight as his eyebrows furrow and his eyes close. “Now help me get these off of you.” He nods and raises his hips so you can take his jeans and underwear off, imitating his actions from before as you take your time to get them over his ankles and caressing his legs until they reach his crotch, watching as he takes his t-shirt off as well so that you can finally see him entirely. You’d caught glimpse of him shirtless before as he worked in his garden, but the sight still manages to take your breath away. Taut muscles and sun-tanned skin, laid bare right before you. This is what they mean by sculpted like a Greek god, you think.

You haven’t done anything, yet his head is already laid back against the top of the couch, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulps in expectation and chest rising visibly at every intake of breath. You must’ve saved a thousand souls in your previous life to be deserving of such an image.

You spit in your palm before taking him, starting out by slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, then rubbing small circles against his tip, the small moan-like sighs that leave his lips letting you know you’re doing a good job. You gather some saliva in your mouth and spit on his length to add some lubricant and smirk when he lets out a low fuck. You bring your head closer and lick his balls, taking one at a time in your mouth and sucking very gently, making the volume of his moans increase. “Just like- fuck, just like that, Y/N.”

You then lick a long stripe up his cock and swirl your tongue around his tip when you reach it, humming at the taste of precum there. Sunghoon gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail so it doesn’t get in your way, and finally looks down at you, blown away by the beautiful sight of your flushed cheeks and your mouth around his cock. He groans when you take him deeper and unconsciously bucks his hips into your throat, making you gag around him. He loves that feeling but doesn’t want to hurt you so he grabs your face and makes you look up at him, lust and worry written all over his face as he apologizes, but you quickly stop him. “It’s okay, I like it. You can do it again,” you say, and smile before wrapping your lips around him once more.

“Fuck, are you sure?” he asks and you hum, sending vibrations all over his body.

“God, o-okay,” he says, in disbelief that you’re okay with him practically fucking your throat and even liking it. And you do like it - you love letting him use your mouth to get off, just like you had earlier with him. He must have amazing core strength because he’s able to buck his hips into your mouth rapidly as he holds your head tight in his hands. The way you keep coming back for more every time he lets you breathe is enough to drive him crazy, but after a couple minutes, he stops you from taking him in your mouth again.

“I can’t- I don’t wanna cum like this,” he breathes, looking just as fucked-out as you do.

“Where, then?” you ask, kissing him all over his thighs as he trails his fingers through your hair. “Inside?”

He groans at the offer but shakes his head, eyes shut as if trying to calm himself down. “I haven’t got any condoms.”

“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, still pressing kisses on his warm skin. You’re far too desperate to feel him inside you to let a lack of condom stop you, especially when you don’t even need one.

He lets out an umpteenth shaky breath and makes you look up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Sunghoon,” you say, looking him dead in the eyes, “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” You’re relieved when he smiles and nods, bending down to trap your lips in a heated kiss for good measure. Something about being in this position, kneeling in front of his spread thighs and having to look up at him, turns you on even more.

“Okay, then,” he says, still smiling as he pulls away, holding you gently by the chin. “I don’t think I’ll be able to last long, and I want to feel you cum around me. So, tell me, what’s your favorite position, princess?”

The question takes you aback but you answer it anyway, looking at the ground. “Reverse cowgirl…” you admit shyly, a small smile spreading on your lips.

“Reverse cowgirl, huh?” Sunghoon repeats, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking. “Come here, then,” he says, and helps you up, making you turn around so your back faces him and seats you down on top of him, keeping your hips raised. He takes his cock inside his hands, pumps it a few more times before guiding it to your entrance, pressing kisses to your shoulders and nape to make you relax. 

You moan at the simple feeling of his tip teasing your entrance and Sunghoon whispers “I know, baby” against your skin. “Sit down for me,” he commands gently, and you oblige, lowering your hips slowly to feel all of him stretching you out, the both of you moaning in synchronization when he bottoms out.

Sunghoon wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you onto him so that your back rests against his chest and you can let your head hang back next to his. “Let me do all the work, yeah?” he murmurs into your ear, and you hum in response. He doesn’t move for a bit, roaming his large hands all over your body until he feels your walls relax around him. One of his hands finds your breasts, playing with each nipple in turn, while the other finds your clit. It’s all so much but so good that you’re already a moaning mess before he’s even started moving. “Ready?” he asks, but you’re too far gone to answer.

His pace starts out slow, but you’re impatient and whine as you try to move your hips against his to go faster, which makes him tut. “I told you I’d do the work, didn’t I?” he asks, pinching one of your nipples in reprimand. “So be good for me and stay still, Y/N. I promise I’ll make you feel good.” You whine again but stop moving, heeding his words.

“Perfect,” he whispers and kisses your neck before picking up the pace, shushing you when your moans get too loud.

“I’m sorry, just feels too good,” you manage to let out.

“I know, but you need to stay quiet, baby,” he says, yet gets rougher with his thrusts, which does not help in the slightest. His hand that was on your breasts comes up to cover your mouth, but he quickly decides to make you suck on two of his fingers instead, muffling your moans a bit.

His fingers on your clit haven’t relented this whole time and after just a few minutes, you feel that familiar knot tying itself again in your stomach and you know you’re mere moments away from it coming undone. Judging by his rapid but clumsy thrusts, Sunghoon must be close too. He pounds into you like you’ve been wanting him to ever since you first set eyes on him as he entered the hardware store, hitting your g-spot over and over again. Tears roll down your cheeks and you whimper around his fingers, biting down on them as your second orgasm hits you.

You’re practically sobbing as he helps you ride out your high, his movements sending your body into pleasant overstimulation until he reaches his high too, the feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around him pushing him over the edge. Ropes of his semen paint your walls white, and there’s enough of it for him to become a father of two. You whine as he pulls away, and feel his cum slipping out of you and onto the couch underneath you. Before you can catch your breath, he asks, “Baby, can I do something very dirty?” and you nod without thinking much. This man could do anything he wanted to you, and you’d thank him for it.

He settles you back down onto the couch, kneels on the floor, head level with your core, and sticks his tongue inside your hole, making you yelp in surprise and overstimulation. You don’t understand what he’s doing until he comes back up and makes you open your mouth with his thumb, then spits inside it, telling you to swallow. You do as he says and taste his cum, laughing in disbelief at what he just did - and at how much you liked it. “Fuck,” you giggle.

“Was that too much?” 

“God, no,” you say, and he smiles. You open your arms, gesturing for him to get back on the couch. He rests his head between your breasts, the both of you sighing in contentment as he rubs small circles on your belly and you graze your fingers through his hair. He’s so silent that you think he’s fallen asleep, but he speaks up after a while, voice soft and calm like you’ve never heard before.

“We should go get cleaned up…” he says, and you hum in agreement, “...but it’s so nice here,” he finishes, making you giggle.

“If we get cleaned up quickly now, we can cuddle in bed right afterwards,” you argue.

“You’re right. Infallible logic. You’re so smart, you know that, Y/N?” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Of course I know that,” you joke. “Let’s go,” you say, kissing the top of his head.

You take a shower together, cleaning each other and leaving kisses here and there, or touching in places you shouldn’t touch and that maybe lead to more, right there in the shower. Now that you’ve had a taste, you’re insatiable, and you warn Sunghoon that the both of you are in for a very long night, to which he answers that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Once you do fall asleep, (which isn’t until two rounds later, and you’re surprised either of you have this much energy), however, you’re holding each other tightly, the fan on high so that you don’t feel all sticky, being so close to each other. Even if you wake up here and there because he shuffled or he snored too loudly, it’s one of the best sleeps you’ve ever had.

—

You wake up the next morning by small giggles and snorts that come from none other than Park Chaeryeong herself, who’s buried herself between you and her dad, shaking her body to wake the two of you. You’re glad that you listened to Sunghoon when he told you to put on a t-shirt of his as well as some underwear so neither you or Chaer would have a fright when she came and woke you up as she liked to do every morning. “You had a sleepover!” she exclaims excitedly when she sees you’ve finally opened your eyes, looking at her with a sleepy expression and a smile.

“We did!” you reply, trying to keep the same level of excitement.

“We did,” Sunghoon repeats, taking his daughter in her arms to hug her tightly and blows a raspberry in her neck to make her laugh.

“You didn’t invite me!” she shrieks when her dad’s left her alone.

“Sorry, sweetheart. It was just me and Y/N.”

“No fun,” she pouts, laying on her back and crossing over arms before turning back to her dad. “So, is Y/N my new mom?” she whispers even though you’re right there. You gasp at her question, making wide eyes at Sunghoon who just snorts, and you can’t tell if she’s genuinely asking or if she’s an eight-year-old with an advanced sense of irony.

“Of course not. Is Heeseung your new dad?” he asks, mentioning his ex’s new boyfriend. Chaer shakes her head.

“No. He’s Mommy’s boyfriend.”

“Exactly, and Y/N is Daddy’s girlfriend. Isn’t she?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you, smirking.

“She is,” you reply, and Chaer turns back to you, giggling. She snuggles close to you, wrapping an arm around your middle, and you’re taken aback by the sheer cuteness of it all. You look at Sunghoon with a fake pained expression, and he smiles endearingly at the two of you before sighing and joining you in your hug. He rests his arms around you and his daughter, kissing the top of your heads in turn. 

“My girls,” he mutters in your hair, and you smile peacefully.

There’s a lot of things you have to talk about with Sunghoon. You know your parents - especially your mom - will be okay with the two of you together, but will his parents be? And once semester starts again, what will happen? You’ll have to go back to campus and he’ll have to stay here - will a three-hour drive be a dealbreaker, or will you make it work?

The thing is, there’s no point in thinking about all of this at this moment. You’ve got the whole summer to figure things out. For now, you’ll eat cherries and spit out the pits, and everything will be perfect.

this is a one shot, there will not be a part two!

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts (ask to be removed/added!)

© asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

[stevie-petey]

episode three: the monster and the superhero

“Breaking and entering into the school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files.” You wince. It’s as bad as it sounds. Tapping Dustin’s shoulder, you break him away from the walkie. “Wait, we won’t need my files, right?” Steve eyes you up and down, shrugging indifferently. “Well–” Hitting his chest, he sputters at you. “Why do you keep doing that?” “You’re not reading my files, Harrington.”

Summary: you and steve can never have a normal conversation, dustin threatens nasa, eddie sadly eats his cereal because youre mean to him, youre once again nancys biggest fan, dustin and steve have an awkward heart to heart, and you and max become felons together and trauma bond (again) !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of blood, trauma lol

Words: 13.5k

Before you swing in: hi hi hi !! so so so sorry for the wait. this chapter was a pain to write and i was so busy with school and work :( promise updates will become more regular soon. i was just simply in the trenches for a hot few weeks. things in the story are heatin up, so get ready gamers. anyways, enjoy !!

–

It’s quiet in Steve’s car. 

Streetlights glow faintly, lighting the way home. The windows are down; the thick late spring air fills the car with the bittersweet scent of honeysuckles in bloom. In the dim of the car lies Steve’s faint outline as he drives. His hands rest against the steering wheel, his chest rises slowly as he inhales all the fear that settles inside the car. 

No one speaks. The tension is suffocating you. 

In the backseat resides Robin with Dustin and Max. The oldest sits in the middle, her fingers drum nervously against the head of your seat. Dustin stares out the window, he hasn’t looked at you ever since promising Eddie you’d be back for him tomorrow. He hadn’t wanted to leave him, he begged you to let him stay in the boathouse, but you wouldn’t let him. 

Max stares out the other window. Her eyes are closed, she’s pretending to be asleep. You’ve come to learn what she looks like when she pretends. Her nose pinches slightly, her eyes can never stay still enough to convince you she’s asleep. It’s what she does whenever she doesn’t want to face your questions, your concerns and your fears. 

Tension builds in the back of your skull, a dull throb rings within your ears. Exhaustion washes over you, fear pierces her nails into your skin. You can’t get Eddie’s terrified eyes out of your head. The way his voice trembled, the sticky blood on his fingernails from the skin he picked at. 

If they’re back again, we need to know.

Vecna’s curse.

The static Eddie felt, Chrissy’s trance-like state. Her bones, the morbid angles they snapped. Barbara Holland, daughter and best friend. Bob Newby, superhero. Billy Hargrove, dearly missed son. Jim Hopper, renown chief and beloved father. 

You’re the best of them, kid.

If the gate really has opened once again… Thick molasses grief coats your tongue and fills your mouth with remorse. There has been so much loss, so many funerals you’ve had to attend. Too many bodies buried without answers, without closure. 

Over and over again. 

“We’re here, Robin.” The gravel of Steve’s voice cuts through the endless dread. He parks the car in front of her driveway, the lights are off inside and you know that Robin is afraid of the dark.

“Need me to walk you in?” You ask her, quiet, but unyielding with all the love you have for her. 

She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I’m brave, aren't I always brave?”

“The bravest,” Steve smiles at her, soft and unbroken. “Get some sleep, yeah?”

“I’ll… I’ll try.” Her facade slips, the fear that grips everyone tightens its hold. How could anyone sleep at a time like this? She shakes her head again, her smile returns, albeit forced, tired. Then she messily crawls over Dustin to exit the car, ignoring his cries of annoyance and pain when her elbow catches his ribs. “Sorry, little Henderson!”

“I don’t even let Steve call me that–”

“Too late, I’ve already decided to call you little Henderson,” Robin climbs out the car, lands with a soft thud on the pavement. She shuts the door with a glint in her eyes before poking her head through your passenger window. “Hey, uh. Y/N?” Her voice drops low, her eyes skirt to Steve, whose cool gaze meets her weary one. Robin clears her throat, you nod your head at her with slight concern. You know that she knows about your argument with Steve. He adores her, what he doesn’t confide in you, he confides in her. Knowing that Robin means well, you soften your voice. “Yeah?”

Robin hesitates, caught between her two favorite people in the entire world. Steve sees her hesitancy and sighs, turning away to provide some semblance of privacy. Relieved, Robin ducks her head down and whispers into your ear, “Talk to him.”

She’s gone before you can exhale. 

Steve starts the car again after Robin has safely made it inside her home. Max and Dustin are quiet in the backseat. As Steve drives, his fingers absentmindedly play with the frayed edges of his leather bracelet. It had been a gift from you, the word constants etched into the material. 

Constants. You were Steve’s constant, he was yours. Through everything you’ve been through together, all the heartbreak suffered in order to fall into one another, he’s the constant within your life. 

Now you’re afraid that you’re losing him. 

There’s still so much Steve doesn’t know. There are stories about your father that you still need to tell him about. Words Jonathan told you last night, the dangerous what if he brought into your life. You’re terrified of how Steve will react, he’s always been so trusting of you and Jonathan even after knowing the history you share. 

And yet Steve also doesn’t know that the future you see involves him, that he’s in it with as much certainty as the sky is blue; you just don’t know how to tell him this, how to articulate the abandonment that sits heavy within your chest that prohibits you from getting what you want in the end.

You have to talk to him. Steve deserves to know everything, all he’s ever asked of you is to be honest with him. 

The broken lamppost in front of Max’s trailer greets you. Steve slows the car, puts it into park. His eyes find hers in the rearview mirror. “This is you, Mayfield.”

“Thanks,” Max responds quietly. She goes to open the car door, but you turn in your seat and stop her. 

“Hey, look at me.” Your tone leaves no room for arguments. She listens, her blue eyes meeting your gaze. For a moment you see Billy’s eyes reflecting within hers. It’s only for a brief second, it ends before you can even realize what’s happened. Startled, you momentarily choke on your words. “I–”

Max raises an eyebrow at you. You’ve been acting strange all night, she doesn’t understand why. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Her words couldn’t be more ironic, more painful to hear. “I-I’m sorry.” Billy is dead, he’s gone. You shake your head, try to get his eyes out of your head. “Just… promise me you’ll call if anything happens, please?”

You know that Max isn’t in any danger, she’s safe at home with her mother, but across the street resides yellow caution tape and boarded up windows. Eddie’s trailer is across from Max’s, the proximity makes you uncomfortable. It’s an eerie feeling, Chrissy died here last night. 

Max seems to understand your concern, and she allows herself to nod. She doesn’t want to fight you, not tonight. “I will, promise.”

Squeezing her hand, you leave Max with a soft reminder to get some sleep. She smiles, a hidden joke between the two of you. Both of you know that there will be no sleeping tonight. 

Once she’s gone, it’s just you, Steve, and Dustin remaining in the car. Tension creeps slowly upon the three of you. Dustin’s never ending annoyance towards you clashes with all the unspoken words left floating between you and Steve. 

Dustin coughs awkwardly. Steve’s fingers tap anxiously on the steering wheel. You keep your head down, your fingers pick at the skin between your nails. The ten minute drive from Max’s house to yours is unbearably long. Stuck at one of Hawkins’ only stop lights, Dustin can’t take the silence any longer.

“Well, this is awkward.” He says to no one in particular. “Lots of tension tonight, huh?”

Neither you nor Steve laugh, and Dustin rests his head against the seat in defeat. He understands why you and him aren’t talking, he’s still angry with you for holding a knife to Eddie’s neck. What he doesn’t understand, however, is why there seems to be so much distance between you and Steve tonight.

Normally you’d be all over one another by now. The two of you can never keep your hands off of each other. As much as Dustin hates it, he’s grown used to the way your hands are always intertwined with Steve’s. Whenever he’s in the car with you guys, your hand always rests against Steve’s arm as he drives. At red lights Steve will always turn to you, pulled in by your smile. 

Except tonight Dustin doesn’t think he’s seen Steve look at you once during the drive home. Your hand rests softly at your side, balled into a small fist. There’s a coldness between the two of you, one Dustin is ashamed to admit that he hadn’t noticed before. 

Then he remembers last night. He’d been too lost in his anger towards you to recognize the tears in your voice. He hadn’t even stopped to consider that you wanted a code blue for any other reason besides lecturing him. His stomach twists with guilt at his own selfish actions. 

Something happened between you and Steve, and you had needed your brother last night. But he had abandoned you, denied the code blue you’d needed so desperately. 

When Steve’s car pulls into your driveway, Dustin runs out as soon as the vehicle stops. He’s frantic to escape his guilt, to escape the chasm that surrounds you and Steve. Slamming the door, he shouts, “Talk to each other!” Then, as an afterthought, he adds, “Good luck, Steve!”

The slam of the door echoes into the night. 

It’s just you and Steve, now. 

The air stills between you, reminiscent of the night you drove him home from the Halloween party. A year has passed since then, it’s been so long since Steve’s presence made you feel anything other than peace. The strings that have always followed you constrict against your throat. 

“We need to talk,” Steve says, but at the same time you say, “We need to talk about Jonathan.”

The words come tumbling out of your mouth, slipping through the grooves of your teeth before you can stop them. They’d been building within you all day, fizzling to the surface. And now they spill out into the silence of Steve’s car. 

His head turns to you, the street lights illuminate the shock and confusion on his handsome face. It pinches with bewilderment, he doesn’t understand. He had been ready to apologize to you, despite still not being able to comprehend how you don’t see a future with him. Steve doesn’t want to fight with you anymore, he was ready to just forgive and forget and hold your hand without the weight of guilt behind it.

Steve had been ready to salvage your relationship, and now you want to talk about Jonathan?

“Jonathan?” Shamefully, his voice cracks. He feels like a helpless little kid again, his stomach twists with the foreboding nausea that something bad is about to happen. “Why… why do you want to talk about him?”

The raw frailty on Steve’s face almost kills you. He’s drawing into himself again, preparing for the final blow that will decimate him and everything he knows.

You take a deep breath. This won’t be easy, nothing you’ve ever had to do has been easy. But Steve deserves to know. To hide something from him feels foreign, to lie to him feels like a betrayal. 

“Jonathan, he–” Your voice shakes almost as violently as your hands do. Steve is looking at you but you can’t bear to face him just yet. “He called me last night, after our… after our fight.”

“What did he say, Y/N?” Steve knows, even before you tell him, where this is going. The light in your eyes whenever you talk about Jonathan is gone. His name doesn’t grace your face with a smile. Instead, the grimace of guilt replaces it. Steve’s stomach twists into tighter knots. It’s happening again.

Inhaling, you close your eyes and try to commit to memory the before. How Steve looked at you with such adoration before tonight. How his soft hands, laced with trust, felt against your skin before tonight. His open gaze, one filled with vulnerability, stared into you before tonight. 

Opening your eyes, you exhale. Nothing will ever be the same again. “Jonathan asked me if I ever wondered if… if we made a mistake. Him and I.”

“A mistake?” Steve’s jaw tightens. 

“I think-I think he was asking me if I ever… thought about what could’ve happened between us. If somehow,” you swallow, the words cement in your mouth. “If-if somehow we made a mistake, choosing you and Nancy.”

Steve is quiet. The muscles in his body pull tightly together. He fills with venom, anger and jealousy and hurt; so much hurt. “And you think he’s right.”

It isn’t phrased as a question. 

Immediately your body turns to his. “No! God, no,” your hands search for any expanse of his skin you can find. Steve doesn’t lean into you, he doesn’t react to your touch. Panic overwhelms you, suddenly all you can do is talk and plead and beg. “Steve, I don’t think Jonathan even knew what he was saying, okay? H-he was high, and he’s been so lonely and-and he kept saying things were easy between me and him but-but that’s not how love is supposed to work and I know he’s just scared. He’s scared and he’s never been so alone before and I think-he’s just lost, okay? He’s lost and–” 

“Why are you telling me this, Y/N?” The hardness in Steve’s voice cuts into you, stings your skin. He isn’t screaming, not like he did last night, but you almost wish he were. The way his voice is leveled, cold and hard, scares you even more. 

“Would you rather I didn’t?” You’re helpless against his anger, you know he has every right to be, but you don’t know how to fix this.

Steve laughs bitterly. “I’d rather you not make shitty excuses for the asshole.”

“I’m not making excuses for him, I just wanted you to understand–”

“You are!” His voice raises slightly, almost imperceptibly so, but you hear it anyways. Steve’s chest rises and falls quickly. His hands fly wildly everywhere, he doesn’t know what to do, either. Then, almost as quickly as the anger surfaced, insecurity replaces it. “Is… Jonathan why you don’t see a future with me?”

Your fingers tighten around his wrist, almost as if you’re afraid he’ll slip between your fingers any second now. “I do see a future with you–”

“Pretty fucking hard to believe when you’re wearing the goddamn necklace he got you.” The words drip with acid. They’re hissed out with a jaw clenched so tightly you’re afraid he’ll somehow hurt himself.

The words startle you, catch you off guard. Your hand slips from Steve’s wrist. He’s never once insinuated any jealousy regarding you and Jonathan. He’s always been so trusting of you two together, he’s always been kind towards him. He always knew that he could never touch what you guys have, and yet his gaze now flickers cruelly to the bee pendant that rests against your neck. 

What Steve has said hurts you, deeper than he ever intended to. He knows how you love, how deeply you care for others. It’s who you are. Regardless of the hurt he may be feeling right now, it doesn’t give him the right to throw this crucial part of you back in your face. 

“I’m made of pieces of everyone I’ve ever loved, Steve. You know this.” The bee pendant rests against your skin as heavily as the charm bracelet does. 

And Steve does know that you’re made of pieces of everyone in your life. It’s what he loves the most about you. His eyes follow where your fingers reside, skimming the silver chain that encases your wrist. He hadn’t meant to say what he did, the words had slipped out before he could stop them. 

“Y/N…” Your name is spoken as an apology, it’s all Steve can manage in his shame. 

But the moment is ruined, you’re exhausted and all you want to do is go home. 

You shake your head at Steve, try to hide the tears in your eyes. He sees them anyways. “Can I leave, please?”

The way you ask so delicately to escape breaks Steve. Something in his chest shatters, his mouth fills with the taste of a broken promise. You don’t need his permission, he hates that you feel that you do. 

“Yeah,” his voice is softer than it’s been all night, but it’s too late. He knows this. Swallowing, all Steve can do is be gentle with you. “Yeah, of course you can leave, angel.”

Angel.

You nod at him; if you try to speak you’re afraid you’ll break before him. 

No other words are spoken between you. Steve watches as you leave. 

– 

The next morning you sit hunched over a mug of coffee, more exhausted than ever before. You haven’t slept properly in days now. Dustin finds you with dark circles under your eyes and a pathetic bowl of cereal before you. From the dazed look in your eyes, he knows you haven’t noticed his arrival, and he awkwardly clears his throat to get your attention.

“So, uh.” He scratches the back of his neck, your eyes are slow to look up at him. Pointing to your coffee, Dustin raises his eyebrows. “Rough night, I take it?”

You nod, too tired to say anything else. The cereal goes uneaten. Dustin doesn’t think your coffee is even warm anymore, he hadn’t heard you wake up this morning. He’s worried that you never even went to bed last night. You’re pale, sickly so, and Dustin hates that he hadn’t noticed the signs sooner. 

“Hey,” he pulls a chair beside you, sits down with a playful shove to your shoulder. He’s your brother, it’s his job to take care of you just as much as it’s yours to take care of him. It’s how the two of you have always been. 

For Dustin’s entire life you’ve looked after him, kissing his scraped knees and warding off monsters hidden underneath his bed. When your father left, the depression your mother fell into afterwards left Dustin clinging onto you. You were all he had left. 

Dustin leans against you, he used to do this when he was a little kid and could still fit between your arms. Resting his head against yours, shoulders pressed together, the angle is awkward and uncomfortable, but it’s safe. “Is it too late to have that code blue?”

It’s a peace offering, an extension of an apology, and you can’t help but smile at your brother. Hand finding his mess of curls, you ruffle his hair and laugh softly. “Yeah, guess we can have a code blue now.”

“Good, you know I always love to shit talk Steve.” Dustin says with humor. You both know he admires the boy.

“Language,” you remind him as you always do. Dustin knocks his head against yours in response and the two of you break into laughter; laughing with your brother again feels good.

In between sips of cold coffee and bites of soggy cereal, you tell Dustin about Steve. You explain the original argument a few nights ago, how he didn’t understand why you wouldn’t want him to follow you to New York. 

“It’s what mom did with dad,” Dustin says, looking down at the table. 

You nod at him, you knew he’d understand better than anyone. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Does he know what happened with dad?”

“No, and I know I should explain what he did, but there’s–” You cut yourself off. Dustin would kill Jonathan with his bare hands if he found out about the phone call. Even though it technically goes against the rules of a code blue, you can’t tell Dustin about Jonathan. Not yet, at least. Clearing your throat, you continue. “There’s… other things that have prevented me from explaining dad to Steve.”

Dustin narrows his eyes. “Other things?”

“Other things,” you look pointedly at him, standing your ground about not elaborating. He denied your original code blue. You’re allowed to lie this one time. “And now Steve thinks that I don’t see a future with him.”

“Well then he’s an idiot.” Your brother scoffs. Anyone with eyes can see how much you fawn over Steve. Dustin has watched you fall for him for years now. “You’re practically ready to marry the guy.”

Taking a bite of cereal, you grimace slightly. “Okay, marriage is a little much–”

“Tell that to mom, she’s already started planning the wedding.” 

Of course she has. She wouldn’t be Claudia Henderson if she wasn’t already planning the names of her grandchildren from Steve. 

The bite of cereal turns into cement, your heartbeat pounds against your throat. With everything going on with Steve, the hurt the two of you have brought down upon the other, you’re not even sure there will be a wedding at the rate things are going. 

As the days go on, you can feel Steve slipping away from you more and more.

Dustin must sense that the subject is hurting you, so he stands from his seat and claps his hands together. “Alright, I feel like we’ve covered our bases for a code blue. Checked all the boxes, felt the feelings needed to be felt.”

“I don’t like the feelings being felt,” you mumble, shoving your bowl away. You’re still drawn into yourself, pale and frail and unlike the lively girl your brother has come to miss. He knows things have been difficult between the two of you, a strain that can’t quite be loosened. 

Dustin falters, his bravado fades. He sighs again and his hand settles against your shoulder. He looks at you with sincerity, his expression softens. “Look, you and Steve will figure things out. You guys always do.”

And he truly believes this. Steve loves you with such a ferocity that rivals your love for him. Dustin can’t imagine a world in which you’re no longer with Steve, where he’s let go of you and allowed you to walk away. 

Except Dustin doesn’t know how to express this to you, but you can understand him anyways. Placing your hand over his, you squeeze it. “Thanks, Dustin.”

He smiles back at you and the code blue is over. The moment lingers for only a second longer before he frowns and sits back down next to you. “Do you think Eddie will be okay?”

And there it is. Eddie fucking Munson again. 

Shoving down your annoyance, you force yourself to focus on the situation from last night. As hurt as you are that Dustin wants to talk about Eddie right now, you can understand why he would. Chrissy died in front of him, he’s being accused of murder. 

You’re just being childish, easily irritated from lack of sleep and the stress of it all. 

“I don’t know, I mean…the cops will be looking for him.” With ease you fall back into strategizing, putting the situation above your own thoughts and feelings. Your mind spins with everything you need to do, trying to come up with whatever you can do to help. “If we have any shot of protecting him, we need to figure out what they know.”

Dustin nods, following along. “Cerebro can tap into the Hawkins PD system, we can easily get intel from there.”

“It terrifies me that Cerebro can hack into our town’s police system.”

“Be grateful I stopped there, Suzie wouldn’t let me use it to tap into NASA.”

You learn two things after using Cerebro to gather information. 

One, the radio is far too powerful to reside in your fourteen year old brother’s hands. He’s able to access the PD system with incredible ease, almost as if he’s done so before. It’d be impressive if you didn’t know the horrors that went on inside the kid’s head.

Two, Eddie is well and truly fucked. 

He’s the main suspect. They think he’s killed Chrissy and have every man in the force scouring Hawkins to find him. Her death was gruesome, you understand the manhunt that unfolds. Dustin, however, nearly loses his mind when he hears chief Powell instructing his men to search Eddie’s neighborhood for the teen. 

“We have to go warn him,” Dustin scrambles to his feet, the chair almost toppling over in his haste. “We need to leave, now.”

There isn’t time to argue, Dustin is already ringing Steve’s number. Either he’s already forgotten about your argument with the teen, or maybe he just doesn’t care. Regardless, the thought of seeing Steve again so soon after last night makes your stomach churn. You want to stop Dustin, make up some excuse to him about why you can’t help Eddie, but you know it wouldn’t matter. Your brother would only beg you to come, your worry for him would force you to listen. 

All you can do is drop your head into your hands and sigh.

– 

It was your idea to stop and get Eddie food. 

Steve had arrived at your house within minutes. Dustin immediately went for the passenger seat, which was more than okay with you, and Steve had mumbled a soft “hello” to the two of you. His greeting went ignored by you, still trying to find your breath around him, and Dustin, who promptly demanded that Steve pick up Robin and Max before returning to the boathouse. 

Halfway to Max’s, the silence in the car was thickening rapidly, so you offhandedly suggested stopping at the local grocery store to get Eddie some food and water. You figured he would appreciate the small act of kindness, especially considering the grime news you’d be delivering to him soon. That, and it’d give you an excuse to leave Steve’s car for a few moments and steady your breathing. 

The boathouse isn’t nearly as creepy in the daylight, but still you make sure your knives are in your pocket before approaching it. Robin walks beside you, helping you and Dustin carry the groceries, while Max and Steve walk silently behind. 

“Think we got him enough?” Robin asks, holding up one of the grocery bags. “I mean, don’t stoners eat a lot? Munchies or whatever?”

Rolling your eyes, you undo one of the buttons on your sweater, allowing the crisp spring air to soak your body. The sun is too warm to be worrying about whatever stoners eat. “If he complains, then he can starve.” 

“Cat’s got claws today,” Robin nudges you with her arm. Turning to make sure Steve is far enough away so he doesn’t overhear, she lowers her voice. “Guessing the talk didn’t go well last night?”

“Oh, it was just peachy,” you grit out through a forced smile. “But we have to focus on harboring a murder suspect right now.” Because nothing in your life can ever be simple. If you aren’t hunting monsters, you’re protecting the town. If you aren’t protecting the town, you’re fighting alternate dimensions.

Robin opens her mouth to say something, but Dustin shoulders past her and bursts through the boathouse doors, ending your conversation. “Delivery service!” 

Eddie nearly has a heart attack at the abrupt entrance. He jumps out of his skin and clutches at his chest after letting out a very unmanly yelp. The reaction is almost enough to brighten your foul mood, momentarily forgetting that Steve stands behind you. 

“Someone’s jumpy,” you sidestep your brother and walk over towards the table. Setting the groceries down, you begin to unload them. “We got you some food, but please don’t eat it all at once. I really don’t want to spend any more money on you.”

“Thanks…?” Eddie slowly approaches you, both relieved for the food and offended you seem so begrudged to have gotten it for him in the first place. From his few interactions with you since last night, he’s coming to learn that you’re far from the girl who showed him such selfless kindness all those years ago.

Eddie doesn’t think you even remember what you did for him. He had been at such a low point in his life, one failed exam away from dropping out of high school and disappointing his uncle, until you appeared. It’d been your sophomore year, Eddie’s failed one, and you had given him your pencil.

The action had been small, meniscal, yet it saved Eddie’s life. He hadn’t brought his own pencil for some stupid English exam. He’d been too nervous for it that he had forgotten his, and Mrs. Greer, the teacher who couldn’t have cared less whether or not Eddie died, threatened to fail him. 

The threat sank deep into his bones, freezing his intestines with dread. Eddie had promised his uncle he’d try harder in school, that he’d graduate, and yet he couldn't do something as simple as bringing a pencil to an exam. Close to tears, embarrassed and overwhelmed, Eddie almost hadn’t registered your softly whispered voice.

“Here,” you tapped his shoulder. Eddie remembers turning around, surprised you were even talking to him, and he remembers the immediate relief that sagged his bones when he saw the pencil extended in offering. He had nodded curtly at you before frantically rushing to begin the exam. He’d already wasted five minutes, he couldn’t afford any more. 

It would only be later that Eddie learned you willingly failed the exam because you’d given him your only pencil, just so he wouldn’t fail. In the end, he passed. It was the first exam Eddie had passed in a long, long time; his uncle had been so proud of him that he bought him his electric guitar.

Eddie never thanked you for that. 

And now you stand in front of him, once again extending your arm out to him with yet another offering, but your eyes are cold. Your body is tense around Eddie’s, he doesn’t miss the wide berth you seem to always give him. 

“Thanks,” he says to you again, clearing his throat uncomfortably. He accepts the box of cereal you offer him and he wills himself to smile. “I, uh. Appreciate it. I’d offer to pay you back, but…”

“You’re wanted for murder.” You finish for Eddie. 

He drops his head. “Yeah, it kinda ruins a person’s life, ya know?”

“I don’t, actually. Never been accused of killing someone.”

Eddie blinks at you. He doesn’t know what to do with the disdain you display towards him. “Right.” He looks at Dustin for help, silently begging the kid to step in before you gut him with your knives.

“Okay, why don’t you crack open that box of honey combs while we all gather around for a fun story time!” Dustin sets down the remaining groceries and ushers everyone to spread around the boathouse. 

“‘Storytime’?” Eddie asks him, looking around in confusion. 

“Y/N and Dustin did some detective work,” Robin offers him, trying to make her voice sound as cheery as possible. “They-uh. Well they found-I mean,” she doesn’t know how to break the news to Eddie, she feels awful for the guy. Deflating, she mumbles, “They’re definitely good detectives.”

Eddie only looks more confused by this, and Dustin sits down awkwardly on a stool next to you. “So, we got, uh. Some good news and some bad news.”

You snort at your brother. Steve stands next to you, his body angled away from you so that your skin doesn’t touch. The distance is small enough to go unnoticed by anyone, yet it’s a chasm that your stomach drops into. “That’s really how you’re gonna break it to him?” 

“What are you guys breaking to me?” Eddie asks, eyes wide.

Dustin hits your leg and gets the teen’s attention. “Ignore her, look at me, alright? Now, how do you prefer it? Good or bad first?”

“Bad news first, always.” Eddie doesn’t even think about his answer, he responds immediately while shoving cereal into his mouth. 

“The bad news is that you’re pretty fucked.” You inform him, arms crossed over your chest. There’s no easy way to lessen the blow of what you overhead from Hawkins PD. The news is bad, it’s all bad. 

Dustin snaps his head towards you, “Y/N!”

“I’m not going to lie to the guy or sugarcoat things!” 

“Would you just let me handle it–”

“Dustin,” Eddie hasn’t moved from his seat. His hand remains in the cereal box, his voice jagged and defeated. He’s tired. He just wants to go home. “Just say it.”

Your brother’s shoulders drop, the anger in his eyes extinguished. “We… We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and they’re definitely looking for you.”

“Chief Powell thinks you killed Chrissy.” Unable to look at Eddie, your eyes trace the ground. As much as you hate him, you can’t help but feel awful for the hand he’s been dealt. No one will possibly believe he’s innocent. “He ordered all his men to track you down before word gets out that you’re the prime suspect.”

“Which leads us to the good news: your name hasn’t gone public yet.” Robin continues for you, her own expression pitying. “But if Y/N and Dustin could find out about you during breakfast, then it’s a matter of time before others do, too.”

“And once that gets out,” you shake your head, you know how cruel a small town like Hawkins can be. “There’s going to be a lot of angry people who know your name.”

Eddie clenches his jaw. You can see tears forming in his eyes; you’re not sure if they’re from frustration or fear. He inhales sharply, licks his lips in disdain. “Hunt the freak, right?”

It’s the way he says it, with so much despair and venom in his voice. The look of resignation on Eddie’s face breaks your heart. He knows his odds, he’s been tormented and abused his entire life by the people in Hawkins. You’ve heard all the stories. The exile he faced because of how he looked, who he would hang out with, the music he listened to and the drugs he smoked. 

Eddie Munson, the freak. The moment the town finds out he’s wanted for murder, you’re afraid he’ll never come out of it alive. 

The ice-hot contempt you feel for him begins to melt. He’s only a year or two older than you, still just a scared kid with no place to call home anymore. Despite the protests of your body, you step towards Eddie and place a hand on his shoulder. Your hand is tense, your fingers scratch on the rough material of his denim jacket, but he seems to calm at the touch. 

“Hey, we’ll protect the freak, alright?” You mean what you tell him, your hand warms his skin. Whatever history you have with Eddie, good or bad, it doesn’t matter right now. He needs you, he’s lost and alone. 

Eddie looks up at you, your kindness startles him slightly, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, his eyes find yours. They’re brown, almost doe-eyed, with a vulnerability within them so intense that it leaves a lump in your throat. 

“We won’t let anything happen to you, Eddie.” Dustin’s voice cuts through, reminding you of where you are. Stumbling slightly, you remove your hand and walk back over to Steve, who gives you an odd, confused look. You ignore him. “We have to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence.” 

“That’s all, Dustin?” Eddie mocks, he doesn’t stand a chance and he knows it.

Dustin draws into himself, uncertain, before letting out a feeble response. You allow yourself to smile, enjoying his wallowing. You understand where Eddie is coming from. “It is a lot that we have to do in order to clear his name.”

“Okay, I know that everything Dustin is saying sounds totally delusional, but we’ve actually been through this before.” Robin tries to reassure him. She’s leaning against a doorframe, she’s trying her best not to let her own uncertainty show. 

“We’ve been here before,” you say with slight bitterness. “You’d be surprised how many times we’ve almost died.”

Robin laughs nervously. “Well, mine was more human-flesh-based, theirs was more smoke-related. I didn’t necessarily almost die, but Y/N has some pretty sick scars on her body and Steve has been concussed more times than he’s had girlfriends–”

“Get to the point, Robin.” Steve finally speaks up, no hint of amusement in his voice. His hand rests besides yours, his fingers ache to curl against your skin. You’re wearing a soft blue sweater, tucked into your skirt, and your eyes shine against the spring cold. He doesn’t want to be here right now.

“Right. The bottom line is, collectively, I really feel we got this.”

Unable to bear the itch in his skin to touch you, Steve brings his hand to his face and rubs at his jaw to distract himself. “Except we usually rely on this girl who has superpowers, but-uh. Those went bye-bye, so–”

“And she’s in California, hundreds of miles from here.” You add on, picking at your nails. The topic makes you uncomfortable. With California comes the reminder of Jonathan.

Robin points at you and Steve. “Both good points, so I guess you could say we’re more in the-in the…?”

“Brainstorming phase.” Max supplies, which Steve snaps his fingers in agreement and Dustin hums thoughtfully. 

“There’s-uh. There’s nothing to worry about!” Your brother says unconvincingly, voice high pitched and full of lies. 

Eddie stares at everyone around him, studying the collective mess that he somehow must place all his trust in. None of you can give him a straight answer about what will happen next, and as you listen to Steve and Dustin try again to make sense of what’s going on, you recognize how hopeless it all sounds. 

“We may not sound like much,” you interrupt the boys, trying again to ease the hopelessness Eddie must be feeling. “But we’re kind of your only option right now–”

The distant wailing of sirens drown out your words, loud and piercing. The sound sets everyone into a panic. Robin instructs Dustin to cover Eddie with a tarp while you, Max, and Steve run towards the window. Squished together, you watch as multiple cop cars fly down the street with an ambulance following them; your breath catches. 

The last time you saw this many cop cars speeding through Hawkins, they had been a dead body in the quarry. It had been Will’s body, lifeless and pale. You had watched as his body was pulled from the water, you held Lucas and Dustin as they cried.

Only this time Will is in California, far away from danger. The onslaught of cars can only mean one thing. 

“I think…” Your mouth fills with syrupy dread, coating your tongue with grief. Breathing becomes difficult. You hope, more than anything, that you’re wrong. “I think someone else died.”

The moment the words leave your lips, Steve grabs his keys and instructs everyone to get into his car. He doesn't ask any questions, he doesn’t question how you know. Dustin quickly tells Eddie to stay in the boathouse while you leave. 

Your eyes squeeze shut as Steve drives, your hand clutches the seat in terror. Every second that passes, your body becomes heavier and heavier from dread. Steve’s knuckles are white against the steering wheel. Robin can’t look at you, Max and Dustin don’t say a word.

The white blanket draped over a body is what you see first. A horde of police surround it, there are lights flashing everywhere. People crowd behind a barricade, necks straining to get a look at the body on the ground. 

Then you see who the cops are talking to, and your heart drops. 

“Nancy,” you breathe out, already opening Steve’s door before he can even park the car. Something terrible has happened. Nancy stands in front of the officers, her arms crossed against her chest as if to calm herself down. She’s never looked so weak, she needs you.

Standing outside the car, the others join you. Steve has parked as close as he can to the crime scene, no one moves. Nancy releases a shaky breath when her eyes find yours. Raising her hand, she waves at you, unsure, and you wave back. She smiles, timid but genuine, and a pit forms in your stomach.

You haven’t told Nancy about Jonathan. 

Steve looks away from her, gaze turning towards you, and he’s thinking the same thing. 

– 

Nancy guides everyone to a park bench at the trailer park. She doesn’t say anything as you all walk, her eyes are exhausted. The police hadn’t wanted her to leave just yet, they had more questions for her, but you’d quickly spoke with the men to let her go. 

Sitting around the table, a bitter cold creeps into the air. The sun is out yet winter still lingers. Nancy sits across from you with Robin and Max next to her. You’re with the boys, Steve pushes his weight against you while Dustin sits stiffly beside you. 

Seeing Nancy’s sunken cheeks and glass eyes, you reach across the table and grab her hand. “What happened, Nance?”

Tears well in her eyes and for once she doesn’t wipe them away. Nancy’s hand twitches in yours, she doesn’t hold onto you like you do her. She’s grieving, you’ve come to learn all the signs of someone who has lost a friend. “It-it’s Fred.”

She explains what they’d been doing, investigating Chrissy’s death at the trailer park. Guilt laces her words, she didn’t think anything would happen to Fred. He’s always been sweet to her, his crush obvious to you but unknown to her. A shiver runs through you; Fred was smart, he was nice to you whenever you spent your days in the yearbook room. 

He didn’t deserve to die. Neither did Chrissy. 

“That makes two deaths in two days,” you say out loud, voicing what everyone else is thinking. Death is common in Hawkins, an inevitability of what lies underneath it, but there’s never been such gruesome deaths so close together. “It’s happening again.”

“What’s happening again?” Nancy shakes her head. “I-I don’t understand, you guys already know what’s causing all of this?”

“We have a working theory, but it’s… not great.” Dustin slouches down, he isn’t sure how much he can explain to the girl with all that he still doesn’t know. “We think it’s connected to Chrissy’s death, something killed her in Eddie’s trailer. He told us she had gone into some sort of trance before her bones snapped and her eyes exploded..”

Nancy grimaces at the gory imagery and you squeeze her hand again. “I’m sorry about Fred.”

She gives you a tight smile before turning to your brother. “A trance? Like El? You aren’t… do you really think this has something to do with–”

“The Upside Down.” You and Max say at the same time.

“‘It’s happening again’,” Nancy echoes your words from moments ago. She understands, now. “So this-this thing that killed Fred and Chrissy is from the Upside Down?”

Steve nods at her and Dustin sighs heavily. “We think he attacks with a spell, or maybe even a curse.”

“But we don’t know if he’s under the Mind Flayer’s control,” you point out. “For all we know, he could just be someone with El’s powers. We know the lab tested on other kids, right?”

Max looks up at you and her face twists with apprehension. “I don’t know, something feels different about this, it’s almost like it’s something new. I don’t think it’s anyone like El.”

“It doesn’t make sense.” Nancy mumbles.

“No, I think Max is right. Something feels off about all of this.” Your arms draw together, it’s impossibly cold for late March. The chill has set into your bones. 

Nancy nods at you, but there’s something else on her mind. “But Fred and Chrissy also don’t make sense. I mean, why them?”

“Maybe they were just in the wrong place? They were both at the game.” Dustin offers, and you shiver again.

Billy had been in the wrong place, too. It’s how the Mind Flayer got him. He’d just been unlucky and alone.

“And the trailer park,” Max adds.

Steve’s eyes widen slightly, he shifts against you and unconsciously moves you closer to him. “We’re at the trailer park, should we… maybe not be here?”

The wind picks up and a crow cries overhead. The barren grass rustles as shadows fall against it. Your spine prickles with nerves. Steve is right to be worried. There’s something eerie about the trailer park, the caution tape that guards Eddie’s door is still too fresh. 

You wrap your sweater tighter to your body, cold with unease. Nancy’s eyes flicker around the park as the wind rustles the leaves. “Fred started acting weird the second we got here.”

Robin asks what she means, and when Nancy begins to explain how scared and on edge Fred had been, a dull throb slowly creeps up the base of your neck. The sensation builds until it’s a roar of nerve endings exploding against your temple, and you wince in pain.

Steve’s fingers skim the crest of your wrist. “Hey,” he’s lowered his voice so the others can’t hear, he knows you never like to worry others. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” the concern in Steve’s eyes burns you. He hasn’t spoken to you all day, but still his skin warms yours and he wants to make sure you’re safe. Comfortable. Okay. Even with the anger between you and all the unspoken half-truths, he still cares about you. 

You want to tell him that you haven’t slept in days, that the nightmares are back and that they’re worse than ever before. You want to rest your head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat. It’s the only way you’ve been able to keep the migraines at bay. 

But you don’t tell Steve any of this. Instead, you lie through your teeth. “I’m fine,” you reassure him again. There isn’t time for you not to be okay. Two people have died already, your migraines can wait. 

Steve doesn’t look convinced. He knows you, he knows how you are and how much you push down for the sake of others, but before he can press you further, Robin interrupts. “Hey, lovebirds, we’re trying to solve a murder case here.”

“I’m listening,” you roll your eyes at her, skin flushing a bit with embarrassment. “Anyways, what if Fred and Chrissy saw something that made them go catatonic? I think we should be focusing on the trace-like state more, it’s a trauma response.”

“What, so they’re insane asylum patients?” Dustin asks with slight displeasure. “I mean, I guess that makes sense. But Vecna can cast spells, at least in DnD. I don’t think they just ‘saw’ something.” 

Steve scratches his nose. “If I saw some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone.”

“Would you, though?” You don’t mean for the question to come off as condescending, and you quickly try to alleviate the offended look on the teen’s face. “What I mean is, who would you go to about something like that?”

“I… I think I know who they’d go to.” Max stares down at the table, her eyebrows furrowed together. She’s deep in thought, remembering something. “I saw Chrissy leaving Ms. Kelly’s office. If you saw a monster, you wouldn’t go to the police.”

“They’d never believe you,” you bear your weight against the table. Nostalgia wraps around you at the memory of how scared you’d been to tell Hopper about El, the years it took for you to trust him. “That’s why I never went to Hopper when I first found El.”

Max nods, she’s relieved you get where she’s going with this. “Exactly, but you might go to your–”

“Shrink.” Robin finishes, sending you an apologetic smile for the offensive language against the profession you hope to one day go into. “No offense, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes, feeling defensive. “Again with calling Ms. Kelly a shrink. She’s not a shrink, she’s actually really nice.”

“You sound like you know her personally.” Dustin narrows his eyes at you. Nothing goes unnoticed by him. 

All eyes turn to you, and you sink down in embarrassment. “I’ve… had a few meetings with her.”

Simultaneously both Steve and Dustin widen their eyes. They hadn’t known you were seeing Ms. Kelly. Nancy looks at you curiously, Robin bites her lip, and Max nods solemnly. It’s a large range of reactions, one that makes you anxious to deal with. “Can everyone stop staring at me, please?”

Steve lets out a quick breath and runs a hand through his hair. “You didn’t tell me you were seeing the school’s guidance counselor, Y/N.”

“She didn’t tell me, either.” Dustin mumbles bitterly. You’ve never hidden anything from him before. He wonders, distantly, when you started to.

“I didn’t want to worry you guys, it really isn’t a big deal.” When both boys bristle at this, you hold your hand up to silence them. “No, I don’t want to hear it. It’s not like I was seeing Ms. Kelly for anything serious, okay? She’s the guidance counselor, so I just. You know. Needed some guidance.”

It’s a horrible lie, you know that no one believes you, but they take pity on you and move on. Originally you really were seeing Ms. Kelly for college admissions help, but after a few sessions you slowly started opening up to her about the sleepless nights. The image of Billy’s lifeless body. Max’s screams. 

Nancy clears her throat and changes the topic. She comes up with what to do next, creating a plan to ask Ms. Kelly what she knows, and you sit silently. You’re relieved the attention is finally off of you. Within minutes a plan is formed: you and Max will talk to Ms. Kelly to try and get more information.

Steve agrees to drive to the house. As you’re walking to his passenger side door, he notices that Nancy isn’t following. Instead, she’s going to her own car. “Hey, Nance. Where’re you going?”

Nancy turns around, a guilty but determined look on her face. Her eyes land on you, knowing you’ll be the hardest to convince of her plan. “There’s just-there’s something I want to check on first.”

Predictably, your shoulders tense and your eyes ignite with worry. “Please don’t make me remind you that there are people dying right now. You can’t seriously think it’s safe to be on your own.”

“I can protect myself, Y/N.” Nancy reminds you gently, understanding your concern but knowing it isn’t needed.

“You care to share with the rest of us?” Dustin calls over to the two of you.

“I don’t want to waste your time,” Nancy shoves her hands into her jean jacket. “It’s… a real shot in the dark.”

You frown at this. “If it’s something you think is worth looking into, then it isn’t a shot in the dark. You’ve always been right.”

Nancy blushes at your words, but Steve silently fumes beside you. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Are you guys out of your mind? No way is Nancy flying solo with Vecna on the loose.”

“I never said that she should fly solo,” you say slowly, not at all liking how he’s twisting your words. You had been complimenting Nancy’s intelligence, restoring her faith back into her work. You don’t understand where this protectiveness from Steve is coming from. “I know it’s too dangerous, that’s why I was going to suggest–”

“You’re right. It’s too dangerous. Bottom line. She needs someone to-Christ.” Steve isn’t listening. He’s too caught up in his head as tosses his keys to Robin, who only barely manages to catch them. “Here, Y/N and I will stick with Nance.”

You cross your arms and glare at him. “I’m sorry?”

Steve doesn’t look at you, he’s too busy staring at Nancy, and for a brief second you truly believe that there’s something soft in his gaze when he looks at her. They’re friends, you know this. There’s a history between them that rivals your history with Jonathan. Nancy was Steve’s first love, and now he loves you, and you try desperately to shake the insecurity that you feel. 

If you’re being completely honest, you’re not even sure why you’re suddenly thinking all of this. You’ve never been insecure, at least not in your relationship with Steve. During the almost year you’ve been with him, there’ve been times girls have flirted with him or old flings that have tried to vie for his attention. But through it all your trust in him never wavered, you knew that at the end of the day it was your bed he was crawling into. 

And yet there’s a voice in the back of your head telling you that the way Steve is looking at Nancy right now is different; it’s how he looks at you. The voice is darker, more cruel. It’s one you don’t recognize, and yet you do. 

Steve seems to come back to himself and turns to you. “Robin can go with the kids to the shrink. Max can talk to her alone, it’s no big deal.”

Robin holds the keys away from her as if they’re poisoned. “I don’t think you want me driving your car.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have a license.”

Steve shakes his head with impatience. “Why don’t you have a license?”

“I’m poor,” Robin shrugs, and you laugh slightly. 

Max raises her hand. “I can drive.”

“No!” You and Steve exclaim at the same time, both of you getting war flashbacks to when Max had driven you after Billy had knocked you guys unconscious. It’d been a rough night and waking up to a thirteen year old driving a sports car definitely hadn't helped. 

“Please,” you look at Max with genuine longing. “Never, ever drive me ever again.”

“Literally anyone but you–” Steve sees Dustin make a face, offering himself to drive, and the older teen snaps his fingers at him in annoyance. “No chance.”

You shake your head as well. No way in hell are you allowing the kid to drive either. “Absolutely not, Dustin. You couldn’t even drive a golf cart properly.”

“I did a decent job!”

“I still think you’re the one who gave Steve his third concussion with your horrible braking.”

“We were being chased by evil Russians!” 

Robin steps between you and your brother, holding her hands up. “Alright, this is stupid.” She grabs Dustin’s walkie from his backpack and marches to Nancy while handing Steve his keys. “Us ladies, sans Y/N, will stick together. Unless Steve thinks we need him to protect us?”

She raises her eyebrows, challenging the teen, and you watch him. He shuffles nervously, ducks his head down. Steve is guilty and ashamed and embarrassed. Your stomach clenches. 

“He knows better than to doubt you guys,” you step in for him, saving him. “Right, Steve?”

Nancy laughs at the look of fear on his face and Robin smirks. Satisfied, they turn around and start to head towards Nancy’s car. You wish them luck as they leave, tell them to be safe. They wave back at you, and although you wish you could join them, you know that Max will want you by her side while she talks to Ms. Kelly. 

Once the girls are gone, you hit Steve’s chest. “Nice one, buddy.”

He lets out a pained huff, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows he had it coming. With a sigh he follows you back to his car and gets into the driver’s seat. Dustin stares at him through the rearview mirror with a shit eating grin on his face. Tired, Steve glares at him. “Not a word.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Dustin defends himself.

“No, but you were going to, and-hey,” Steve turns in his seat and glares even more at your brother. “Did you make sure to wipe your feet?”

“Yes,” Dustin says at the same time as you and Max say, “No.”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and starts the car angrily. His movements are jerky and uncontrolled. “Always the goddamn babysitter!” He exclaims, resentment marring his face.

You jump slightly at his raised voice. He hates being sidelined, you know this. Similar to you, all Steve ever wants to do is help. He does whatever he can, he tries harder than anyone. It’s what you first fell for, back when Steve originally crashed into your life. 

It’s because of his kindness and devotion to others that you reach for Steve’s hand. His skin is cold, goosebumps raise at your touch, but you interlock your fingers through his and slowly, piece by piece, Steve relaxes. 

He’s missed your touch. You’ve missed his, too.

– 

Ms. Kelly, to her credit, tries to mask her surprise when she sees you and Max standing at her door. “Oh, hello, girls.”

“Hi,” you smile kindly at the woman. “We really hate to bother you over spring break, but do you possibly have a minute to talk?”

“With the two of you?” Ms. Kelly knew that you and Max were both grieving Billy, but she hadn’t known that you knew each other. “Y/N, I’m sure you’re aware that this is highly unusual to request.”

You wince. “Yeah, I’m definitely aware that this is a pretty strange thing to ask. It’s just that I was the one who convinced Max to start seeing you in the first place, and now that I’m also seeing you, we figured we could… talk to you together?”

It’s a horrible excuse. The lie is vague and too transparent to believe. Neither you or Max had a lot of time to come up with a convincing cover story during the drive here. 

“I don’t know,” Ms. Kelly’s face strains with contemplation. 

Max softens her eyes and does her best to look small, pleading. “Please?”

You try to appear troubled as well, though it isn’t hard. Your headache hasn’t left. The pounding in your head has only intensified since leaving the trailer park. Ms. Kelly’s gaze flits between you and Max, reading for any signs of lying or ill-will, before her resolve crumbles.

“Oh, alright.” She opens her door wider, ushers the two of you inside. “Come in.”

Steve and Dustin watch as you disappear inside the house. They’ve parked across the street, opting to be the lookout in case anything happens. You spare one last glance over your shoulder, eyes meeting Steve’s, before Ms. Kelly closes the door. 

“Okay, they’re in.” Steve states the obvious, slightly unsettled to be stuck in the car while you’re inside.

“I’m missing collarbones, not eyes.” Dustin snorts. He expects Steve to say something snarky in response, but then he notices that the teen is still staring longingly out the window, tracing Ms. Kelly’s door. He looks pathetic, waiting for you, and Dustin sighs. “So… we gonna talk about it?”

Steve’s eyes linger on the doorway, a far off look on his face. When he realizes that Dustin has spoken, he turns to him slowly. “Huh? Sorry, talk about what?”

“Your temporary insanity earlier today when you basically threw yourself at Nance? In front of my sister?” 

“Okay, first of all, that’s not what happened.”

Dustin glares at Steve, defensive over you. “Oh, really? I’m pretty sure it did, there were a lot of witnesses. Y/N included.”

“What are you implying, little Henderson?” Steve rubs his face, too tired for the kid’s mind games. He knows he was being weird earlier with Nancy, but he would never do that to you. Ever. He had simply been overwhelmed and confused and feeling a multitude of things that he still isn’t ready to face.

“I’m not implying anything,” Dustin puts his hands up. “All I’m saying is that I know you and Y/N have been fighting lately and that for some stupid reason, you’re doubting your relationship.”

Steve throws his head back against the seat. Of course you told Dustin about last night. “Look, I’m not-I’m not doubting our relationship, alright? I mean, I love her, man. So, so much. We just… things have been hard, lately. Really fucking hard.”

He isn’t sure how much you’ve told your brother. He doesn’t think you’d tell him about Jonathan, at least not until you know yourself whatever the hell he’d been trying to tell you the other night. 

Dustin doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He stares past Steve, his eyes almost seem to glaze over. “It’s because she’s leaving, isn’t it?”

All the air in Steve’s lungs gets knocked out of him. “Yes,” he breathes out. His mouth is dry. He swallows, his tongue feels too thick for his mouth. “Sometimes it feels like she’s, I don’t know, like she’s outgrown me? I-I know it’s stupid, but she’s going so far for college and I’m stuck in Hawkins like some fucking moron and she-she didn’t want me going with her.” 

“Did you know that I cried when she got into NYU?” Dustin asks him, a hurt smile on his face. When Steve shakes his head, the boy inhales deeply. “Yeah, cried like a baby the whole night. I mean, I knew she applied, I knew she’d get in, but… you’re right. She is going pretty far. I’ve never,” he wipes at his eyes quickly, embarrassed that he’s crying. “I’ve never had to spend a single day without my sister.”

Steve stares at your brother, finally beginning to understand the distance between the two of you. For weeks now it’s all you’ve complained about to Steve. How much you resented Eddie for being Dustin’s new favorite person, how much you miss singing with him in the kitchen while you baked. But now here Dustin is, teary eyed, explaining to Steve just how scared he is to be without his sister. “It feels like she’s leaving you, too.”

“Yeah,” Dustin wipes his eyes again, nodding. “Yeah, sometimes it feels like she can’t wait to get out of this town.”

“Even though we’ll still be here,” Steve says solemnly. 

It’s quiet again. A few birds sing in the tree above them. You and Max haven’t returned, yet. After a while, Dustin turns to Steve. “She doesn’t mean it, you know.”

“Who?”

“Y/N,” the boy clarifies, and Steve’s heart skips a beat. “She doesn’t mean it when she says she doesn’t want you going with her to New York. She’s just… she’s scared, and she knows that it isn’t what you really want. Nothing gets past her, it’s really annoying.”

Steve scoffs a bit, fondness running through him. Dustin’s right. Nothing ever gets past you, you notice and see everything. But then he thinks about what your brother has said, the fear he hadn’t known about. “Why would she be scared?” 

Dustin stiffens in his seat, his gaze once again blurs. He twists his hands anxiously, fixes his hat. The atmosphere shifts, Steve can see that he’s uncomfortable now. He’s about to tell Dustin that he doesn’t have to answer, but the kid does anyways. “Our parents, they-um. Met in college.”

Steve sits up as well. You and Dustin never talk about your parents, at least not about your father. Steve can’t remember the last time you’ve even mentioned him. He thinks maybe the man had called you once, during Christmas. 

“They got married right before graduation. Our mom had been pregnant with Y/N, they got hitched and in their marital bliss, our dad somehow convinced our mom to leave Indiana. She grew up here, but our dad was from Virginia and he insisted that she move there.”

Bitter. Dustin is bitter.

“Everything was fine, I guess. I liked Virginia. Y/N did, too. But our mom was lonely, anyone could see that. We lived in a pretty small town, our dad was basically a goddamn Kennedy there. Everyone adored him, but our mom… things were different for her. She was always in his shadow, but Y/N and I were too young to notice for a long time.”

Steve swallows. “And then… the divorce?” 

“The stupid fucking divorce.” Dustin spits out. “It wasn’t a surprise, but somehow we still felt blindsided. One day our dad was charming, cracking jokes with everyone and playing the guitar with us, then the next he just-he snapped. Became bitter, mean. Y/N idolized him, but when our parents started fighting every night and our mom cried over some woman named Carry… I lost my sister, for a while.”

“She told me,” Steve whispers, remembering the rawness in your voice the night you confessed to him that you were once cruel. “I had to remind her that she came back, in the end.”

The corners of Dustin’s mouth turn upwards slightly. “Yeah, she came back.” But then his expression darkens, his mood sours. “Our mother almost didn’t, though. After having to move back to Hawkins with barely any money to support us, it basically destroyed her. She had lost all her friends by that point, her own parents died while we lived in Virginia.” 

“I’m sorry,” Steve’s throat constricts. He hadn’t known any of this. He feels like such an asshole now for assuming the worst in you. For allowing his own insecurities to blind him. “I-I didn’t know about any of that.” 

“Yeah, well.” Dustin shrugs. “Now you do. And you need to know that Y/N is being her usual selfless self because of our mom and what happened to her. She doesn't want that happening to you, dipshit.”

Steve exhales through his nose, his head is swimming with so many more questions, so many apologies he wishes he could say. Instead, he stares out the window, waiting for you to return. 

–

“So, what would you girls like to discuss with me?” The clock on Ms. Kelly’s walk ticks ominously behind her. She’s seated you and Max in her basement den. You can tell by the stack of books and messy desk that she uses the area as her makeshift office. 

Max slouches against her seat. “Oh, it’s nothing too serious, we were just–”

“I’m worried about Max.” You interrupt the girl, not daring to look at her.

Ms. Kelly raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I think with all the murders happening, it might be affecting her.” It isn’t necessarily a lie. You have been worried about Max and her behavior. Especially these last few weeks. “It might be resurfacing some… memories.”

Max tries to argue, but Ms. Kelly holds her hand up. “You’ve both experienced trauma, Y/N. She lost her brother while you held his dying body.”

A lump forms in your throat, your lungs feel cold. 

The woman turns to Max, now. “And when you keep your feelings in, your pain, bottled up the way you do, it doesn’t take much to trigger them again. I can see why Y/N may be worried.”

Max doesn’t meet Ms. Kelly’s eyes. She swallows heavily and looks down at her hands. “Yeah, I know.”

“You know you can always talk to me, Max.” You say softly, wanting desperately to reach out to her. But you’re afraid it’ll only drive her further away.

She frowns at you. “Like how you talk to Dustin, or even to Steve?”

Her accusation cuts deeply. You hadn’t known that she was paying attention to you. That your disguised “I’m fine’s” weren’t convincing her. Max must know this, because she lowers her eyes again and mumbles a quiet apology. 

Ms. Kelly notices the tension and leans between the two of you. “Do you think you’re ready to talk more about that night?”

Max’s eyes gloss over briefly, her face distorts with discomfort. An onslaught of memories overtakes her, just as they overtake you. The echoes of her screams for her brother replay in your mind over and over again. The squelch of Billy’s blood trickles down your spine. You were right next to her when it happened. The blood still stains your clothes from that night at Starcourt. 

“I live next door to where it happened.” Max changes the subject, her voice returning. When Ms. Kelly asks for more clarification, she continues. “Next to where Chrissy was murdered. The cops asked me a bunch of questions. Did they talk to you?”

The woman sits up, apprehensive. She hadn’t been expecting to talk about this. You sit there quietly, head still pounding from earlier as Max takes over. She interrogates Ms. Kelly, who does her best to dodge every question, and suddenly the warmth in the room becomes unbearable. 

“Excuse me,” you stand up, hand clutching your stomach. Nausea swirls within you. You feel faint, the pounding has increased and sweat trickles down your neck. Both Max and Ms. Kelly look at you in concern, but you ignore them.

Blindly you stumble towards the kitchen you remember seeing when you arrived. Too nauseous and overwhelmed to care about niceties, you dig through Ms. Kelly’s cupboards until you find a cup. After filling it with water, the icey coolness of the liquid settles uneasily in your stomach. You lean over the sink, hands clutching the edge. Everything in your body feels unsteady.

Max comes up the stairs and finds you breathing heavily. “You’re not going to hurl, are you?”

“Trying really hard not to right now,” you breathe through your nose, out through your mouth. “Thanks for the concern.”

No response comes. Instead, footsteps walk up behind you. You hear metal clanking against glass, and when you turn around, you find Max holding up a pair of keys. She smirks, flashing you the white keyring attached to them labeled, “office”.

Your eyes bulge out of your head. “No, we are not stealing–” 

Except Max grabs your arm and practically flings you out the front door. She shoves you, urging you to start running towards Steve’s car, and all you can do is stumble over your feet and follow after her. When you make it back to the car, panting from the exertion and thrill, Steve and Dustin turn to you with wide eyes. 

“What’d she say?” Your brother asks, noting your frazzled appearance. 

“Nothing, just drive.” Max dismisses. 

“I just became a felon.”

The girl rolls her eyes at you. “Personal property theft isn’t a felony.”

“Jesus,” Steve does a double take, baffled by this entire conversation. “What the hell did you guys do in there?”

“Steve, drive!” Max shouts at him. 

The tires of the car squeal against the pavement as Steve steps on the gas. He steadies the car, a wild look in his eyes. “Where are we even going?”

“The school,” Max holds up the keys she stole.

Dustin looks at her incredulously. “Are those–”

“The keys to Ms. Kelly’s office? Yeah.” You nod grimly. “I told you, I’m now a felon.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic–”

A voice comes through Cerebro, cutting Max off. “Dustin? It’s Lucas. Do you copy?”

Relief washes over you hearing Lucas’ voice. Between tracking down Eddie and dealing with interrogating school guidance counselors, you’d also been slowly worrying yourself to death over the boy. It’s unusual for him to be quiet for so long, and with all the murders now occurring… You’d been terrified. 

“Lucas? Where the hell have you been?” Demands Dustin.

“Just listen, are you guys looking for Eddie?”

You and Steve share an uncertain look. Why would Lucas be radioing about him? How much does he know?

Your brother tells Lucas that you’ve found Eddie and tells him where he is, that he’s safe. Immediately, the boy responds, “You guys know he killed Chrissy, right?”

Predictably, Dustin doesn’t take this very well. “That’s bullshit, Eddie tried to save Chrissy.”

Lucas presses further, not believing what he’s hearing. Max snatches the radio from Dustin, tired of all the vague responses. “Lucas, you’re so behind it’s ridiculous, okay?”

“Technically we still haven’t elaborated on the whole Eddie thing,” you point out, which she glares at you for. 

“Y/N?” Lucas asks, surprised to hear you’re with them.

You grab the walkie. “Hey, how’s your day been?”

“Awful,” he responds bluntly while Steve snorts at your question. “Why are you guys so sure Eddie didn’t–”

“Just meet us at school. We’ll explain later.” Max instructs, leaning over the car’s console. 

“I can’t,” fear leaks through Lucas’ voice. You sit up now, looking at Steve again. He hears it, too. “I think some real bad shit’s about to go down.”

You feel your heartbeat pick up. “Lucas, what does that mean? Are you okay, where are you?”

“Sinclair!” A voice shouts, before the radio cuts into static. 

“Lucas? Lucas!” Max shouts into the walkie, but he doesn’t respond. She sounds scared, it’s the most emotion you’ve heard in her voice in months.

You’re no better. You sit in the passenger seat, numb. The voice, you recognized it. You’d know Jason Carver’s voice anywhere. Everything clicks; you remember how Lucas was supposed to go to the party after the basketball game. Chrissy had been Jason’s girlfriend before she was brutally killed. The cops would’ve questioned him, they would’ve told him how her body had been found in Eddie’s trailer. 

Eddie Munson, the town freak everyone hates. 

“What shit could Lucas get into?” Dustin questions, annoyance twinged with worry for his friend. 

You try to steady your breathing, nausea returning. You almost don’t recognize the sound of your own voice. “It’s Jason. He’s-he’s angry.”

The words settle in the car, linger in the air, before they crash heavily upon the four of you. The realization dawns on everyone, the inevitability of what will happen next is an unbearable weight.

Steve steps even harder on the gas. He knows the basketball team, how cruel teen boys can be. 

– 

Every time you’ve snuck into one of Hawkins’ schools, it’s never led to anything good. The first two times had been in the middle school for Will. Neither time involved very pleasant memories. This year you’re sneaking into the high school in order to violate your classmates’ privacy and read their deepest, darkest secrets.

“This feels wrong,” you huff under your breath, barely keeping up with Steve and the others as they run through the hallway. “I’d hate it if anyone read my file.”

“Would you rather risk anyone else dying?” Max responds, giving you a pointed look.

You frown but don’t say anything, figuring she’s right. As much as you hate to do this, it’s objectively the lesser of two evils. You’ll apologize to the students after this is done. If they question why you’ve baked them brownies, you’ll simply lie and say you had extra laying around. 

“Dustin, do you copy?” Robin’s voice carries over the radio. Your heart skips a beat hearing her, you’ve missed her today. After your brother responds, she starts to explain what she and Nancy found. “So, Nancy’s a genius.”

“What else is new?” You say, and Robin laughs.

“My thoughts exactly, pretty girl.” She clears her throat. “Anyways, Vecna’s first victims date back all the way to 1959. Her shot in the dark was a bull’s-eye.”

The new information startles you. Vecna first started killing in 1959? Why didn’t you hear anything about it until now, and why didn’t El sense him before?

Dustin looks equally unsettled by the news. “Okay, that’s totally bonkers, but we can’t really talk right now.”

“What are you doing?”

“Breaking and entering into the school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files.”

You wince. It’s as bad as it sounds. Tapping Dustin’s shoulder, you break him away from the walkie. “Wait, we won’t need my files, right?”

Steve eyes you up and down, shrugging indifferently. “Well–” Hitting his chest, he sputters at you. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“You’re not reading my files, Harrington.”

Meanwhile, Dustin urges Robin and Nancy to meet you guys at the school. By the time their conversation wraps up, Max has unlocked the office door. She heads straight towards the drawers, long familiar with the layout; you follow after her.

Steve and Dustin look around while you and Max dig through the files. They mumble something about Watergate, but you can barely hear them over the rush of blood in your eardrums. Max’s fingers rest on a specific file. The name printed on it makes you feel sick.

Fred Benson.

“Holy shit,” she exhales, grabbing it.

“Found it?” Dustin stands next to you now, neck peering down. 

You struggle to breathe. “We didn’t just find Chrissy’s file.”

Dustin tilts his head, he doesn’t understand, and Max holds the file up. “Fred was seeing Ms. Kelly too.”

Steve and Dustin freeze. You can practically see their heartbeats still. The air in the room goes stale. Their eyes linger on you, they wish they couldn’t piece it together. Chrissy and Fred were seeing Ms. Kelly up until their deaths. You and Max have been seeing her, too. It’s one hell of a coincidence. 

But that’s all this is. A horrible, awful coincidence. 

“Y/N…” Steve breathes out, but you shake your head at him.

“Please,” your lip trembles. Not here, not now. He can’t look away from you, but you can’t bear to look at him. Instead, you grab the remaining files and hand them to Max. “We need to go through them. All of them.”

Dustin sits at the desk, Steve’s hand rests on the small of your back as you lean over Max to read the files. He shines a flashlight for the two of you, Chrissy’s file is the first one you read. The image of her once vibrant and alive smile stares back at you. There’s a column of writing to the left of her photo, the handwriting is neat, orderly, and it catches your attention.

“Are those…?”

“Symptoms.” Max softly answers, eyes skimming down the list.

Past trauma.

Terrible migraines.

Difficulty sleeping.

Headaches.

Max’s entire body tenses, her muscles pull taut against you. Your own body shakes, the tremors misalign your bones. Slowly, she looks up at you. Her eyes silently beg you to tell her that you’ve gotten it all wrong. Max’s blue eyes plead with you to tell her that none of this is real.

“Steve,” your voice catches, unable to inhale. “Can we see Fred’s file?”

He softly agrees, handing you the file immediately. You take it from him. The paper trembles in your unsteady grasp. Laying them down, you open the file and Fred’s photo burns you. Next to it is a list of symptoms.

They’re the same as Chrissy’s. 

They’re the same as yours. 

The headaches. Sleepless nights. The trauma you’ve been through, the nightmares that will never truly go away. Everything you’ve experienced within the last week. 

Nosebleeds is starred, and for a moment your heartbeat settles. You haven’t had a nosebleed since you were five. It isn’t one of your symptoms; it can all still be a coincidence.

“This-this can’t be right.” You don’t know if you say this to reassure Max or yourself, but when you look down at her, you know. She has a far off look in her eyes. She doesn’t react to what you’ve just said. 

It’s only then that you remember her nosebleed from earlier this week; it hadn’t been a coincidence. 

“Max?” You shake her shoulders, tears already in your eyes. You know better than to be so naive, so blindly ignorant. You should’ve known better. You should’ve known that something was wrong.

Dustin and Steve try to wake Max, but she’s already left her body. She’s unresponsive, lost in whatever trance she’s in. 

“Y/N, what’s happening?” Steve demands, fear in his own voice.

You’re hysterical, screaming and sobbing for Max to wake up. Her body is so small against yours, she’s frail and weak and her skin has never looked so translucent. Over and over you shake her, your palms rest against her cheeks and you cry.

You’ve come to know what fear is. How it can blind a person, leave them stricken with such raw anguish. Fear takes whatever air is left inside you and it poisons it with sulfur and leaves you choking. 

The day Will went missing, the only air left in your body had been blood. 

When inside the tunnels defending your little brother from monsters, the air in your body had been carbon. 

Starcourt mall and the fireworks that exploded over Billy’s dangling and bloodied body left only just enough air in your lungs to scream.

But this fear, seeing Max unresponsive to your pleas, this fear doesn’t spare you any air. 

Gasping and choking, you’re a wreck. “Max!”

Faintly you can feel Steve’s hands on you, or maybe they’re Dustin’s. Someone grabs you, pulls you away, but all you can do is scream.

It all makes sense now, Nancy’s question from earlier rings in your ears. You know why Chrissy and Fred were targeted. Why Ms. Kelly was somehow the center of it all.

The symptoms they experienced prior, the same ones that plague you and Max. You know what it is.

Venca’s curse.

-

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[vapekingg]

could i request playing suck and blow at a house party and steve deliberately drops the card to kiss reader? like in clueless lol

Your wish is my command.

Steve x Reader

TW: Implied drunk sex, drinking

Boy. Girl. Boy. Girl. Boy. Girl.

Steve. Robin. Eddie. Nancy. Billy. Carol. Tommy. You.

Eight bodies sit in a tight circle at the center of the Harrington home. It’s not a typical Saturday night. Steve’s parents are out of town for the weekend and what started as a small gathering somehow turned into a rager, has now dwindled down into just a small gathering once again.

It’s nearly three in the morning. You’re tired, and you’re absolutely drunk, and you aren’t exactly sure why Eddie was so incessant on playing this game, but the promise of cuddling up next to Nancy in the guest bedroom if you’d just get it over with is too good to surpass.

You sit back on your palms and observe everyone surrounding you. Nancy’s eyes are half lidded and she’s slurring something unintelligible while leaning against Eddie’s arm. Billy is looking at Carol with the same smile he gives Mrs. Wheeler at the pool and neither of them seem to care that Tommy is nearby. Robin’s tired, you can tell. Her mom was supposed to pick her up a half hour ago. On the other side of you is possibly the only person other than yourself who still has a semblance of their own bearings.

Or it seems that way, at least.

Steve has been fucking shitting himself all night.

“What, are you just gonna keep watching her from across the room like some… forlorn lover?” Eddie had teased him earlier in the night. And to his credit, Steve had been staring.

He couldn’t help it. He had just enough liquid courage in his veins to help him stand on the precipice of making a move, without ever really being brave enough to take that leap.

Besides, it’s just easier to watch from afar, isn’t it? No ruining the “friends-of-friends” relationship that the two of you have. No making things weird if things go south. And things do tend to go south for Steve.

Once party goers began to say their goodbyes, Eddie had whispered his idea to Steve between a shared cigarette by the pool. And Steve had agreed. That fucking liquid courage had allowed him to, but where was it now?

Steve sits beside you screaming internally. He can feel the heat of your fingers where they sit only inches from his. The plush meat of your thigh presses snug against his knee, Eddie had insisted that everyone squeeze in as tight as possible. He swears he can smell you. The cherry vodka that you’ve been taking shots of all night with Nance. It weeps off of your breath every time you throw your head back with laughter and Steve has purposefully stayed away from that bottle all night just so he can taste the cordial sweetness on your tongue for the first time.

“Suck. And. Blow.” Eddie’s words are loud and demanding of attention, but sexual. And for good reason.

He has a cheeky grin on his face, an ace of spades fixed between two fingers. All eyes are on him, but unfortunately for you, you’ve caught his attention.

“Only fair that the birthday girl start us out, right? Counter clockwise.” He holds the card across the circle and you look at him with surprise.

“Why do I have to pass it to fucking Tommy?” You spit while snatching the card from his hand.

“Because we’re not giving Hargrove the chance to plant one on my girl,” Tommy juts in quietly enough that Billy apparently doesn’t hear him.

Which is a fair argument, you can’t lie.

You roll your eyes. Just one game. That’s the only thing standing between you and sleep.

The circle quiets as you bring the card to your lips. Had this been earlier in the night, it might’ve stuck to your lipgloss and Tommy would’ve really had to suck to get it loose. It rests loosely against your parted mouth now, your breath caught in your chest as you turn toward Tommy and lean in. One stutter in your lungs and you’ll be fighting Carol in the fucking driveway for planting one on her man.

You don’t drop it, though. Tommy leans toward you and kisses you through the card. Even with that protection you can tell he’s uncoordinated and eager.

From his lips to Carol’s, from Carol’s to Billy’s, from Billy’s to Nancy and so on. It feels drawn out. Everyone has to make a thing out of their kiss, don’t they?

You watch through bleary eyes as Robin passes the card from her lips to Steve, thrilled that this is finally over.

Until Steve turns toward you, ace of spades still pressed against his mouth.

Sleep who? You're more awake than ever. You freeze for a second as he begins to inch closer, unsure now of how this game works or what you're even supposed to do.

But then Steve waves you toward him. With the forward, "come here" motion of his two fingers, Steve nods. Somehow reassuring you that this is okay, this is standard. Right?

So why are you only just realizing how thick his lashes are? They frame his warm chestnut eyes beautifully, enhancing the summer tan sitting on his skin and the freckles accompanying it. Of course you've thought about Steve Harrington like this before, at least mildly. Everyone has. But now it feels...

His eyes start to flutter closed as his face nears, his head tilting to seemingly fit yours. Normal, fine. Your heart doesn't drop until you feel those same two fingers he'd used to beckon you forward on your thigh. Tracing your skin, brushing the plush flesh of your outer knee just gently enough for a chill to settle over your skin.

Steve's nose tickles the tip of yours, his forehead coming to rest against your own. You can smell his cologne so well, the vanilla and cedar tones that smother your sinuses. It’s almost strong enough for you to taste, the alcohol on his tongue permeating through the air and coming nearly close enough for it to bleed onto your tongue, if it weren’t for the card protecting his lips.

Except now there isn’t a card protecting his lips.

You see a flash of bubblegum pink, his flushed lips becoming visible as the ace of spades slips between your bodies. It happens quickly: his free hand in your hair, your mouth being pressed against his, the hoot and holler of guests surrounded you at a deafening volume.

But now you know what Steve’s tongue tastes like. He slips it past your lips, presses it against your teeth until you grant him access to your curious mouth, and then you taste the shots he’s been taking all night. Intoxicating a rich, pouring down your throat to intoxicate you further.

You don’t know when, but your hand moves up. You find the collar of his shirt, dragging him toward you even in the close proximity. Steve hesitates at first. His fingers stiffen in your hair as he forgets how this works. Is he supposed to pull back? Climb on top of you? Instead, his other hand reaches for the loop of your jeans.

“Everyone get the fuck out,” he mumbles against your lips, and no one seems to hear him but he’s still pulling you forward. Pawing at your waist, reaching for the button on your pants and kissing you over and over and fucking over again.

“I said everyone get the fuck out!” Steve shouts this time.

And the hoots and hollers die into laughter and scrambling feet, car keys jangling and a front door slamming. Your back meets the Harrington living room carpet and you feel Steve’s hot breath move down your chin, over your throat until he reaches your chest.

Maybe you can do without sleep for just a little bit longer.

[holylulusworld]

Pipsqueak & Grumpy

Summary: Logan defends you.

Pairing: Wolverine (Logan Howlett) x Plussized (short) Reader

Warnings: grumpy Wolverine (you know him), sunshine reader, plus-sized reader, bullying/fat-shaming, protective Wolverine

A/N: Please consider that I write for the taller version of Wolverine from the movies, not the comics.

“Slow down, big grump,” you giggle because your boyfriend (or not boyfriend because Logan hates the word) is stomping toward the bookstore. If he hates anything, it’s shopping, but he makes an exception for you. His hold on your hand is light, but it makes your heart flutter. “Logan.”

“What is it, Pipsqueak?” He stops in his tracks, almost making you bump into his back. Logan cocks one brow while looking down at you. “I’m not smoking.”

“I asked you to slow down.” You pout. “My legs are shorter, and you’re so fast.”

“Aw, do you want me to carry you?” Logan grabs your waist, intending to lift you. “I could throw you over my shoulder and carry you around. No problem, sweet Pipsqueak.”

“No!” You playfully swat his chest. “That’s for the bedroom only.” Your eyes narrow as you watch three girls and their boyfriends walk toward you and Logan. They watch you interact and start laughing.

“Man, I wouldn’t try lifting that chubby bumblebee,” one of the boys laughs. “You’ll break your back, or worse.”

Logan dips his head as they step closer. He grits his teeth, already tensing. One more word from the idiots not knowing what they got themselves into, and there will be blood coloring the street. Not Logan’s, though.

“First and final warning,��� your boyfriend growls in their direction. “Get the fuck away from me and my girlfriend.” Your heart flutters because Logan called you his girlfriend in front of others; you only wish it wasn’t at that moment.

“GIRLFRIEND?” One of the girls says, scoffing. “You could do so much better. You’re not that old.” The group starts laughing when the boy talking shit calls you a fat, short cow.

Logan growls like the animal he can turn into. He gently cups your face and pecks your temple before he turns on his heels. Logan looks the boys up and down, a dark smirk on his lips.

One of them already steps back, tugging at his girlfriend’s hand.

“So, you think you can come here and talk like that about my girlfriend?” Logan’s voice alone makes the girls whimper. They didn’t expect Logan to look like a feral wolf when he turned around. “I see you need me to tell you how to treat a woman, right.”

“Sir, they didn’t mean to-.” The last boy raises his hands in surrender and walks back. “Uh, I didn’t say a thing.”

“You didn’t say a thing; that’s right.” Wolverine steps even closer. “At least your friends were brave enough to believe they could make fun of my girl. You were just standing next to them, laughing like a hyena. A real man would never allow his friends to do such a shady thing.”

“Sir…” The girl laughing at you squeaks. “But she’s…” She screams in terror when Logan lifts his left arm and slowly slides his claws out. He chuckles darkly when the girl wets her pants. “Nooooo!”

“What will it be, boys?” Logan asks, sliding the claws on his right hand out. “A taste of my claws, or you on your knees begging my beautiful girl for forgiveness.”

He cocks his head, waiting for their answer. The girls run off, while the boys fall to their knees, murmuring apologies.

“I can’t hear you!” Wolverine yells. “Louder! I want everyone to know that you are little boys with small dicks and even smaller brains. You will tell them that you said all this shit because you are not man enough to satisfy a hot-blooded woman like my girlfriend.”

“We are little boys with small dicks and even smaller brains,” the boys say in unison. “We are not man enough to satisfy your hot-blooded woman.”

“Damn right,” Logan huffs. He slides his claws back in, but steps closer to the kneeling boys. “You’ll stay like that for ten more minutes and repeat the words. If,” he says while sliding his claws back out, "you ever say something like that to anyone ever again, I’ll find you and cut your tiny cocks off.”

As fast as he put the group into their place, Logan turned back around, his features softening.

“Now, Pipsqueak, we are going to get the books you wanted,” Logan smirks when you look up at him like he’s your hero (and he truly is in any way).

He grabs your waist, easily lifts you, and throws you over his shoulders, laughing loudly as people stop walking only to stare at the bizarre scene. The boys are still reciting the words, while Logan carries you toward the bookstore, whistling a tune.

“Logan,” you giggle and laugh. “Let me down!”

“Never, Pipsqueak,” he laughs and swats your ass with his hand. “I’d never let you down.”

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids,

I feel like advice on loneliness comes in only three flavors:

"It's all mindset, learn to embrace being alone and you'll never feel lonely!"

"Your head is lying to you, you have friends and they love you!"

"Here's a list of places you can go to hang out with people and make new friends!"

Those are usually well-meant and I'm sure there are situations where they do help someone feel better - but they're definitely not universally applicable.

The first one is even plain wrong: connection is a basic human need. You can't just "change your mindset" and turn that off, the same way you can't turn off your need for food or air or mental stimulation. Humans are group animals. We absolutely need social interactions to stay healthy and sane. It is true that some people do not need a large number of friends and are happiest with just one or two close friends, and it is also true that some people prefer to fulfill their social needs in other ways than what's traditionally defined as friendship - but that's not something you can (or should) try to train yourself to do, that's just natural differences and preferences!

The only thing you could "train" yourself to do would be to learn to ignore your social needs and bury them deep down under layers of denial... and you don't need me to explain to you why that's a very unhealthy idea. It's sad enough that so many people have to do that to not lose their minds in loneliness, we certainly don't need to celebrate an unhealthy coping skill as a "superior mindset".

The other two at least get a bit closer to the truth: the solution for your unmet need is not to kill the need, but to fulfill it... but that's easier said than done, isn't it?

After all, "Don't worry, your friends love you!" doesn't help if you have no friends. Loneliness is not always "all in your head": Maybe you moved to a new place and don't know anyone there. Or you cut off contact with all your friends after a big fight. Or you grew up neurodivergent (or got mentally ill at a young age) and had no chance to learn how to make friends at the age most kids do, and by now you have been friendless for so long you don't even know where to start.

Same with "just go to a bar and talk to some new people" or "Take a pottery class and you'll meet some interesting people there" - that's not factually wrong, but also not helpful if the reason you feel lonely is that you struggle to make friends (or even struggle to just talk to people). Which can also be part of neurodivergence or mental illness, or just be a part of your personality (shyness), or be a result of isolating circumstances (like having spent a lot of time in a closed environment, for example a long hospital stay, and now feeling unsure how to connect with people outside of that environment). 

And those are just a few of the many, many possible explanations why someone may be lonely that require a more individualized approach - which is why we can’t solve loneliness with any one-size-fits-all solution.

That may be a somewhat disappointing-sounding conclusion in a letter on loneliness, so let me also tell you: hope and support are always within reach, even if it might take some time and patience to find them. The key is to remember that your feelings are valid and that you're not alone in your struggle.

First, recognize that admitting that you feel lonely, and wanting to take action based on that feeling, is a sign of strength, not weakness. You’re pretty insightful for recognizing your loneliness and super brave for wanting to reach out!

Secondly, be kind to yourself and allow yourself to take small steps. Small, actually manageable steps are crucial in any healing journey! If it’s not an option to just go to the bar or that pottery class, then it’s okay to start somewhere else. Maybe a therapist, a support group, or even online communities can be valuable “training sessions” for social connections. Even reaching out to one single person can make a significant difference over time. Your journey to finding companionship and connection might be different from someone else’s, but that doesn't make it any less valid (or achievable!).

Lastly, do consider embracing new activities that you may enjoy - but not just for the sake of meeting others. It’s important to nurture your own happiness and well-being when you’re feeling lonely. Those can be activities you can try out alone and even at home, for now! Anything that enriches your life is good. Long down the road, maybe it will lead to opportunities to connect with others, but even if it doesn’t: it’s important to incorporate new experiences into your life.

While there isn't a universal solution to loneliness, I truly believe there is a path forward for everyone. It's all about finding what works for you.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

[samthestrangerthingsfan]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, lots of parallels, reader is a lil down on herself but don't worry, eddie is down bad for her.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of weed and smoking, smut!! 18+, minors DNI.

AN: do i write 90% of my fics based on what pops into my head when i hear a certain song? yeah. also this is only half edited bc life. enjoy bbs <3

“Okay, okay,” You laughed. “One more hit then I’m tapped out, Eds.”

Eddie grinned, speaking through a half-held breath. “Oh no, Sweetheart. New stuff hittin’ a little too hard?”

You inhaled deeply, passing back to him what was left of the joint. It went straight to your head, and you flopped back, laying comfortably on Eddie’s bed.

Eddie inhaled, following suit, making your body bounce as he hit the mattress.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “Feel like I’m fuckin’ flying.” He grips your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Don’t let me float away, okay?”

You smile at him, taking in how fucking beautiful he looks under the dim lights in his bedroom.

“Never. You’re stuck with me, Eds.”

He looks down at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He took you in like he'd done 100 times before. Eyes trailing from your nose, to your eyes, landing at your mouth.

So fucking beautiful.

“Good," he breathes, pulling you in closer. "Just the way I like it.”

Eddie let go of you hand, only to wrap his arm around you and pull you into his chest. He placed a kiss to the crown of your head, "This okay?"

It's all I want. You think.

"Or do we have to get up and go watch that cheesy chick-flick I promised we'd watch.

You sighed, fiddling with the hem of your denim skirt. "I'd stay here all night if you let me."

That's all I want. He thinks.

Eddie leans back a bit, looking down at you. He's not sure if it's the weed making his so emotional, but he swears he could cry just looking into your eyes. "What am I gonna do if one of these dates you keep going on works out? What if someone takes you from me?"

He tries to sound relaxed, but the truth is, the thought keeps him up at night. There’s gonna be a guy that steals you away from him one of these days. Someone who can give you everything he can’t, someone brave enough to open their mouth and tell you just how much they love you.

and it'll crush him.

The laugh that escapes you is a cynical one, "Eddie, I've been on three dates with three different men, and I've gone home alone each time."

"So?" He asks.

"So," You scoff. "It means no one is interested in doing anything with me."

It’s true—to you at least. The guys you’d gone out with were either not looking to be tied down, or ran once they met you. The last guy thought you’d be easy because ‘the freak’s best friend has to be a freak herself right?’

The dates were a distraction for you. As your heart pined over the one guy you could have it all with, it was breaking too. Eddie hadn’t made a move on you—ever, and you weren’t brave enough too.

So the two of you sat in limbo, completely unaware that the other person was right there with you.

Eddie sits back, releasing you from his arms. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" You ask, sitting back as well.

"That. Act like you're the problem, and not these shitty fucking dudes you keep going out with.” Eddie tried to control his tone, but his temper got the better of him. He cursed at himself for it.

Jesus H. Christ, Munson, get it together.

You push back from him fully now, "Eddie, the common denominator is me. I-I'm fucking broken or something."

“Stop that.” He seethed.

It’s a command—a tone you've heard him use with Steve, or Dustin, but not you.

Never with you.

Eddie stood as you sat up, hanging your legs off the edge of the bed.

"What--"

He turned back and got to his knees right in front of you.

“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

He was close to you, and with him on his knees, his gaze was just at your eye level. “You’re not broken. There's nothing wrong with you, you’re—you’re fucking perfect.”

“Eddie…”

“No, no, just…just shush for a second.” Eddie moved his hand to your cheek, his thumb sweeping across it gently. “You think all this shit about yourself and it’s just not fucking true. I wish, for a second, you could see yourself how I see you. I fucking adore you.”

You feel the warmth of his breath on your nose. His large hand on your cheek warms you, and you lean into the touch, closing your eyes.

Everything is Eddie in this moment. He’s invading every sense you had.

It’s overwhelming.

You can feel your eyes brim with tears. “You don’t have to say that, Eds. I’m okay. I’m just…I’m lonely, that’s all.”

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He watched you, he saw the tears hidden beneath your lashes. How could you not see it? See how you were…everything to him?

His mind stopped for a moment, deciding whether or not to take the leap, to risk it all and not run for once.

Fuck it.

“I’m right here, Princess. I’ve been right here.” He leans his forehead on yours.

You exhale his name, “Eddie,”

“What,” he’s quick to ask. “What is it, Sweetheart?”

Your on fire with how close he is to you. But he doesn’t mean it, not in the way you hoped he would…does he?

Your eyes open, seeing his beautiful brown ones searching your face for some kind of clue as to what you’re feeling. You clasp your hand on top of his. “Please,” you beg. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel better. My heart can’t take it.”

He laughs softly, bringing his other hand up. He’s cradling your face gently, “Oh, Honey. You have no idea just how much I mean it.”

Eddie is overwhelmed with you. You’re everywhere, and he can’t fucking think straight. Probably a good thing right about now, because he’s about to do something he never thought he’d be lucky enough to do.

“Can,” he clears his throat. “Can I kiss you, Baby?”

With zero hesitation, you nod, earning a chuckle from Eddie.

“Gotta use your words, sweet thing.”

“Yes,” it comes out as a plea. “Kiss me...please.”

Warm warm warm.

It’s all you feel when he leans in. Then his soft lips are on yours, all the while he’s holding you as if you’d be the one to float away.

Eddie kisses you like he’s done it a thousand times. Like he knows your lips and the pattern that drives them crazy. He’s trying to tell you everything he’s been too afraid to say since the moment he met you.

There’s no one but you.

You’re everything.

I love you, please, let me love you.

Regrettably, you pull away. Breathless from the kiss, but also how surreal this moment is.

“I-I,” you sigh, touching your forehead to his. “I’ve wanted to do that for forever.” It comes out as whisper. As if you’d scare him away if you said it too loud.

Eddie smiles, a relieved laugh passing his lips. “Yeah?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

It’s quiet for a beat, Eddie is looking at you so softly and with such care.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says with all of the conviction in the world. “My pretty girl.”

“Am I?” You ask. “Am I yours?”

He nods, "If you want to be." He moves his hands, resting one on each thigh. He rubs them absentmindedly, likes he's trying to flatten the goosebumps that had prickled across your skin. “...and I’m yours. You've got me, Honey.”

Eddie's grin was still a shy one. You brush your hand across his face, pushing back any stray hairs. "Eds?"

He grips your wrist gently, placing small, tender kisses along the inside of it. The gesture is so simple, but it sends a heat through you like you've never experienced before.

"What is it, pretty girl? Whatever you want, whatever you need...it's yours."

You intertwine your fingers with his smoothly, "You, Eddie. Need you. Wanna make you feel good, Eds."

Now it was his turn to get goosebumps.

"Fuck, Angel. You can't just say that to me." He breathes.

Your bedroom eyes blink twice, "Please?"

A strangled moan vibrates from his chest, "Who am I to deny the fair maiden what she asks for?" Eddie stands, holding out a hand for you.

You're pulled to your feet by him, and he's looking at you through a brand new set of eyes. "One problem with that though, Princess. You come first."

You gasp as his hands take purchase of your ass, pulling you into him. "If anything, and I mean anything is too much, or too weird, you tell me, okay?"

You're nodding again, and he tuts at you. "Uh-uh. Words, baby."

Your arms fall around his neck and you press your body against his. "Yes, sir."

"Ho-ly-shit." He moans. "Yeah, I'm gonna kiss you now. Cool? Cool."

He's hungrier this time, kissing with teeth and tongue as his roaming hands explore your body.

"Eddie, Eddie..." You breath through swollen lips. "Too many clothes."

"You a mind reader or something?" He jokes, ripping the t-shirt from his body. His body was a work of art in more ways than one, and seeing it now, like this, made you crave it all the more.

You watch as Eddie falls to his knees, "Can I?" He asks, pulling at your skirt.

"God, yes."

He unbuttons the fastener, pulling the distressed denim down until it's pooling at your ankles. Eddie then came face to face with your black-lace covered heat.

"I-I'm dead right? I've died and now I'm at the pearly gates."

Your hands cover your face, "Eddie! Stop!"

He stands quickly, "No, baby, no. God, please don't hide from me." He pulls your hands away gently.

Your shirt is next to go, and so is the matching bra. Eddie pulls his pants down, leaving his boxers on.

"Lay down for me, Princess. Wanna take care of you.”

The timber of his voice makes you tremble. Once your comfortable on the bed, Eddie climbs on too.

“Now, I know this is all new, and we’re figuring things out as we go, but…” Eddie pauses, laying on his stomach between your legs.

He starts kissing his way up your legs. “I’ve been dreaming of eating this pussy for a long, kiss, long, kiss, long time.”

You’re so turned on you can barely speak, but you manage to get out a quiet. “Well what are you waiting for?”

Your thong is thrown into parts unknown, and Eddie starts to feast like a man starved.

“Eddie, fuck—“ his tongue explores your heat. His hands hold onto your hips as you grind down onto his mouth.

“Uh-uh, don’t hold back. Wanna hear you, Princess.” He dives back in, lips sucking on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He slips in one, the two fingers. Pumping and curling them slowly until he finds the spot that makes you see stars.

The fire in your belly is growing and you feel your legs start to shake. “Holy fuck, Eds—Eds I’m gonna cum!” Your hands take purchase in his hair, giving it a sharp tug as you feel the heat engulf you.

Eddie eats your pussy, drinking you in as you cum.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” You release your grip on his hair as you come down from your high.

Eddie crawls up your body, kissing you. You taste yourself all over his tongue. “Don’t be sorry, Baby. Let’s me know you’re enjoying yourself,” he kisses you once more. “Plus, I kinda like it.”

You’re both breathing heavy.

Now it’s his turn.

Your hands touch his shoulder, pushing him gently. “What’re you doing, pretty girl?” He asks softly.

When Eddie’s leaned back against the headboard, you pull his boxers off. Pink, uncut cock springing from it's confines.

God damn...he's fucking huge.

"Gonna ride you, Eds. Let you feel what you did to me." You climbed on top of him, "Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?"

Eddie's nodding, not sure what part of you he wants to look at more.

"Uh-uh," you tease. "Use your words, Handsome."

"Fuck," He breathes. He palms your bare chest, moving the pads of his thumbs over your nipples. "Do whatever you want to me, use me, I'm yours." He leans forward, hot mouth latching to your other breast.

You sit up, allowing Eddie's hard length to slip inside your aching cunt. The sheer stretch and size is enough to snatch the breath from your lungs.

"Eds...Eds, shit. S'big." You moan.

His eyes close as he bottoms out inside of you, "So tight. Fuckin' pussy was made for me, she wants my cock. Won't let it go. She greedy, baby?"

You adjust to his size filling the void inside you. Eddie hold your hips as you begin to ride him, helping you to keep a steady rhythm.

"Look at you, Princess. Cock-drunk already, hm?" He teases.

Eddie is whispering praises as he fucks up into you.

Such a good girl.

Taking me so well.

My pretty girl.

Mine.

Eddie's pace quickens, and you feel the tremble return to your legs.

"Eddie, fuck, I--"

"I know, Honey. I can feel it, feel you squeezin' me. Let go, Angel. Go on, cum for me."

His words are like a spell.

You cum harder than you did on his mouth, and this time, it's his cock that's drenched in your essence.

"Gonna cum, Sweetheart. Where--"

You're entirely lost in everything Eddie. "Inside me, Eds. Fuck, please cum inside me."

"Shit, shit, shit." Eddie's moves become erratic. Sloppy thrusts chasing his release, and when he does, he all but growls in your ear.

He's breathless and spent, but his arms wrap around you. Eddie holds you, softening inside you. He kisses the center of your chest, the trail making its way across your shoulder, up your jaw, and to your lips.

"Hi." He says quietly.

You giggle softly, "Hi."

"So uh, not sure if this is a good time or not..."

You kiss his nose, "Hmm?"

"I-I...I love you. I don't know, just felt like someone should tell you, might as well be me." Eddie's big brown eyes search your face for any sign of regret or discomfort.

Nothing.

You kiss him deeply, "I'm glad you told me, otherwise I'd be sitting over here, in love with you, looking all silly by myself."

Eddie holds you tighter. "You, you love me?"

You giggle, "Edward Munson. I love you."

He pulls you closer, "You love me." It's a statement now.

Eddie lays his head against your bare chest. "I'm gonna get you cleaned up in a second, Sweetheart. Just wanna hold you for a little."

Rubbing small circles on his back, you kissed the top of his head. "I'm not going anywhere, Handsome."