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hargrove-mayfields · 2 years

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It’s the 30th, which means it’s already the final day of @harringroveweek! I had such a fun time writing a new piece for every day! Thank you to everyone who participated in, engaged with, and organized this event!!

Today I chose the song of the day prompt: I Think We’re Alone Now by Tiffany!

trigger warning for detailed depictions of blood/injury and general violence. Basically, monster hunting.

If he lived to see another day, Steve was going to murder those kids.

Sending him out there with no back up, no plan, no fucking way out. Just watching as he was dragged under and didn’t resurface. What a real group of geniuses they are.

He doesn’t even know how long it’s been since then. If maybe they’ve forgotten about him. He’d prefer to think that they just think he found his way out and skipped town or something. Not that they probably had given up all hope.

To be fair, he would’ve too, pretty early on actually since after only about a few minutes of the portal sealing itself behind him, he’d been jumped by some new flesh eating thing.

Yet another obstacle he’d come unprepared for, without even a weapon.

Laying on the ground, being eaten alive by those things, that was when everything changed though.

Because Billy Hargrove, looking only a little worse for wear, had been the one to bash the monsters in, and toss Steve his own bat to finish the job.

Time moves differently down here, so he doesn’t know how long it’s been since then either, but one thing Steve is perfectly certain of is the fact that they’ve fought through another three hordes of those things, and spent even longer hiding from more.

They haven’t even had a chance to talk about much, like what happened before Billy died. Dynamic wise, things seem unchanged from last year, but as far as Steve remembered, Billy had died heartbroken by him and his stupid inability to not be jealous all the time. They fought and broke up and then Billy went missing.

But now he’s alive again, in better shape than Steve even, and they’re too busy fighting for their lives to fight for themselves. They just sort of accept that they’re together again.

Feeling like he can’t walk any further, Steve leans against the siding of a crumpled metal shed. They’d searched it for more weapons, then promptly broke most of them when another pack of demobats showed. His mouth tastes like blood, and not because he bit one this time. He needs a break.

“Hey. I think we lost them..”

Billy turns his head to look at him sharply, “Just like you’ve lost your damned mind if you think that means I’m just going to stand here and wait for them to come back.”

“I’m not stopping, I just need a breath. Not all of us have had this shit in our lungs for as long as you have.” Steve is doubled over now, panting a little. Blood and spit drip past his lips. Not a good sign.

The harshness drops from Billy’s tone instantly, moving to trying to encourage him, “Can’t let it get in your head or you’ll suffocate. You’re fine, Steve. Gotta keep going.”

Wheezing, Steve emphasizes his point, “So a little break isn’t going to kill us. I seriously think we’re alone now..”

“Fine. But if those things catch up to us again, with you in this state, we’re goners.” Billy sounds stern, but his heart isn’t in it.

Tired of leaning on hard metal, Steve sinks to the ground to catch his breath, “What happened to not letting it get to your head?”

Billy moves closer, drawing his weapon of choice, which is a shotgun for now. A silent agreement to stand guard for Steve while he’s down. He mutters bitterly, despite his willingness to help, “There’s a difference between being cautious and driving yourself crazy.”

“I think being trapped down here with you is enough to drive me crazy.”

“Good crazy or bad crazy?” Billy scoffs a laugh, and Steve returns it with a crooked, pained smile, “Both.”

“Aw, you’re just flattering me.”

“See? I can’t even get a word out without you being all sarcastic and snarky about it.”

“You like it.” Billy hums confidently, so, instead of disputing it, Steve decides to catch Billy’s ego off guard, “I guess I do. That’s why we’re going to make it out of here, Billy.”

Everything about him softens, his face, his posture, his voice, “Well if we’re going to do that, you’re gonna need patched up again. You’ve bled through again.”

“I’m fine.” Steve tries to resist, just so he doesn’t become a burden. His feelings towards Billy are too complicated right now, caught between that old summer fling and a sense of inferiority, for how quickly he succumbed to a bite when Billy’s been here for twice as long.

“Sure, thing. Just watch my back.” Billy hands off the gun and kneels in front of Steve, digging through the bag of supplies he’d been able to accrue during his time down here until he finds more bandage rolls, the cleanest material he can.

Shifting forward on his knees, Billy rolls up the sticky, tattered shirt they threw on Steve to cover his bandaging the last time. He grimaces, and Steve takes that as his cue to look straight up at the sky instead of assessing the damage for himself, “Damn it, Stevie. This is getting bad.”

He swallows hard, bracing himself by asking, “How bad?”

“Not worse than I’ve seen it. Just.. not good.” Billy pokes at it, assessing the damage. Even the lightest prod feels like fire in Steve’s abdomen, the pain flaring as far up as his chest.

He starts to panic, seeing the expression in the other boy's face combined with the intense feeling, “Oh god..”

Pulling his hands away to look for something else, bandages apparently not cutting it anymore, Billy warns, firm but sort of sweet sounding, “Panicking’s not going to do anything but shorten your air intake and attract those things to the sound. If you’d like to savor this tranquility, I suggest you cut the freaking out.”

Steve closes his eyes and tries to follow his advice. The first thing that comes to mind, he starts talking about it to get his mind off of the irritating ache, “You always just call the monsters ‘things.’ You haven’t named them yet?”

Billy snort-laughs, half-heartedly sarcastic, “Uh, no? Why the hell would I? They’re trying to eat me, they’re not my pets.”

Something wet touches him, and he reacts so fast, but so uncoordinatedly that he smacks his head off of the surface he was leaning on. It’s just a rag with bottled water, Billy’s attempt at washing away some of the dried blood to asses the damage further, but it felt suspiciously like a bat tail. Billy smiles apologetically. Steve rolls his eyes pathetically slow and and keeps talking,

“We call the big ones demogorgons. And the little ones are just demo whatevers: demodogs, demobats, now..”

Periodically checking in with Steve on what he’s doing after that little scare, Billy glances up at him, waiting for a small nod to keep pressing harder, wiping away more blood and dirt and monster spit than Steve knew was possible to have on him. He keeps him engaged as well, asking, amused, “Those losers named the interdimensional face-eating monsters after dungeons and dragons?”

“You recognized it.”

“Shit. You got me.”

A particularly painful movement has Steve wincing, demanding despite the nice back and forth they had going, “Are you done yet?”

“Almost. This last parts gonna hurt..” Billy warns, and Steve tries to understand but,

“Why? What are you- Fuck!”

Too late. There’s a stinging pain so intense his vision goes blurry, and if Steve didn’t want to throw up so bad he’d be cursing at Billy for it.

Knowing that just from Steve’s posture and his clenched fists, Billy explains himself, “Sorry, H. Pretty sure that was a tooth or something in there. I couldn’t bandage you back up like that.”

Steve lets his head fall back, suddenly feeling more exhausted with all this, his pain levels admittedly somewhat improving with that thing out of him, even if it sucked to get to that point, “Just please tell me that was it.”

Finally wrapping the bandage around, watching Steve’s face to make sure it isn’t too tight and making him feel weirdly vulnerable under his gaze, Billy remarks, proud of his work, “It’s your lucky day. All done.”

Finally Steve relaxes, exhaling out some of the tension he kept in his muscles to make Billy's job easier. It helps, but not much. “Christ.. How did you survive down here for so long? I’ve been here what, a few hours? And I’m barely hanging on.”

“One, don’t say that kind of shit. You’re fine. Two, I don’t really know why I was able to fight for so long.”

Billy looks away, whether he’s hiding his feelings or checking the tree line, Steve isn’t sure, “I mean, I guess that’s what I’ve done all my life, is fight against some big scary monster. Except now instead of worrying about school and my social life and watching Max, it’s just about surviving now. My troubles are between me and the monster and nobody else for once. So it’s almost easier.”

Steve opens his mouth to say something in response and validate his willingness to share his feelings, his breath sort of crackling in his throat, but Billy cuts him off quickly and stiffly, “I’m not done.”

“When all I have to do is fight, and not try to balance all these problems on top of an already broken foundation, I got to thinking. About how shitty I’d been to everyone, just because I was too busy fighting the monsters to notice. You and Max and Sinclair, mostly. Susan too. Everyone really though.”

Billy pauses to clear his throat. Steve can tell it's to hide the strained sound of a tearful voice, but he also coughs, pretending it was something to do with the air. In exchange for how open he’s being, Steve is willing to let him have that, “I dunno. I just felt kinda shitty knowing that if I died here and never made it back, everyone would always think of me like that, and I would have done nothing with my life but make other people feel like they were running from a monster. Running away from me and all my shittiness like I had done for so long.”

“So pretty much, I guess I survive now ‘cause I want to do better than that monster. And I want to get back so I can make things right.”

“You’ll get that chance, Billy. I promise. We’re getting out of here.” It’s not much compared to that massive emotional speech Billy had just given, but Steve doesn’t know what else to say, what else to believe in.

Billy only mutters, all his passion drained out and just sounding tired now, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I mean it. Because unlike before, we’re not alone. We aren’t fighting these monsters by ourselves the way you had to. There are so many people behind us, those kids and their families, your family, that are looking for us right now.”

Steve assures him, making himself feel better if he’s being honest, “They don’t care who hurt who in the past. Our friends are going to do what’s right no matter what and they’re going to save our sorry asses. I know it.”

But Billy just sounds broken, defeated. “Steve. It’s been days. Maybe even weeks, and nobody’s come for you.”

He’s speechless. There’s no way it’s been that long. Bracing himself, he tries, “Well it was months before I found you. I never gave up on you.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“So say it.” Billy demands, and Steve does with equal intensity, “Because I love you.”

“Right. Do you think anyone up there feels that way about either of us?” He hadn’t been expecting him to weaponize that. Steve bites his tongue as Billy rants, “I shot down any chance of Max feeling that way a long time ago. Wheeler definitely doesn’t love your bullshit anymore. Our parents hate us. Half of those kids are strangers, and the other half just think you’re their expendable babysitter to send away on suicide missions to fix their problems.

“They don’t care, Steve. Not the way you do. With your stupid stubbornness and your stupidly big heart. They’re not coming for us now.” This isn’t something that’s coming out of nowhere. It’s obvious Billy has put a lot of thought into this, probably long before Steve found his way down here.

At least Steve knows where they stand relationship wise now. It’s not much of a silver lining.

Matching in his desperation and fear, Steve asks, “What do you mean?”

“You said it yourself earlier, babe. I think we’re alone now.”

A beat. Steve makes up his mind, “That’s not going to stop me.”

“Who said it should?”

“Alright, then. What’s next?”

The fight still seems to have drained out of Billy entirely. He shrugs, “You tell me. You’ve done this before.”

“We follow those things and see where they’re hunting. We’ll probably find another portal there if we’re fast enough.” Steve details. That’s how they found the portal on the other side, anyways. It’s the only theory they’ve got.

Billy buys it, seeming slightly less defeated to see that Steve actually might know a little bit what he’s doing, “If you’re sure, then lead the way.”

A hot spot for monster activity is usually near flat ground. Clearings and fields and places where the dead grass is tall enough they wouldn’t dare go near it unprotected.

Their hideout is on top of a hill for a reason.

Gathering all they need, weapons and such, they set out, waiting at the bottom behind trees and vines for a monster to step out. They’re hard to find down here, that bluish tint making everything look the same. It’s easier to listen. Rustling steps ahead, accompanied with growls and chitters, tell them they’ve got what they need.

Billy leads, peering around to check that the demodog is indeed walking away from them, and signaling for Steve to follow.

It leads them unknowingly for a good several miles until they lose track of it in a separate clearing. Exposed like this, they’re on high alert now, Steve’s got enough adrenaline pumping in his system now he can barely feel the bites. That’s for the best, he thinks. To be afraid of anything.

Up ahead, there’s a faint reddish glow emanating from exactly what they’re looking for, a hole large enough to fit them both through at once in the wall of what looks like the remnants of an old barn. A portal. Intimidating as the sight is, Steve is relieved, “There it is.”

Billy is too, as he jokes, “Are those things always that gross looking?”

“Who cares? Let’s just get out of here.”

Steve steps forward towards it, but is quickly caught by Billy, a strong hand on his shoulder freezing him to the spot.

Billy holds up a hand, a sign to stop and listen, “Wait..”

As expected, Steve hears it before he sees it, a demodog lurking just beyond the edge of the clearing where the old barn is. It chirps, calling for backup. Eventually Steve’s eyes adjust, and from yards away he can see rows upon rows of hungry teeth.

They hardly have time to prepare after that initial moment, Billy having just enough to make sure there’s still bullets in his gun before it pounces with a sickening snarl.

There’s a half dozen of them, two smaller ones taken out instantly with blasts from the shotgun as they opened their mouths to bite. For someone who never held a gun before, Billy’s become a damn good shot.

Then the gun clicks. It’s empty. He hadn’t had time to reload it before, so he certainly doesn’t now.

But he doesn’t falter for even a second, when the next one comes he uses the butt of the gun in the same way Steve is using his bat, swinging it and sending the demodog skidding across the wooded ground.

He chases it and bashes its skull in. That makes another angry and it pounces at him, taking his gun between it’s jaws.

More dogs swarm them, and they get turned around then, separated when a bigger dog runs between them, rearing to tear apart whatever it can get its teeth into. Steve calls it out and bolts, finishing off the one that initially ran with him with a side swing of his bat. It stumbles, already bleeding, and doesn’t get back up.

Now the larger one is after him, because Billy must not have killed the one he was fighting yet. Steve wishes he could stop and find him, make sure he was holding up. Right now, he let that get in his head. He focuses, and waits for the dog to pounce to jam the bat in its jaws.

The nails stop it from splintering the wood with its teeth, and give him a way to shove it through the things skull. He hates that part, feeling it pierce flesh, feeling the fight fade from what’s left of the monster. Not out of sympathy for it, just because it feels gross, to take a life.

It sounds like the fight has died down. He looks around, counting the bodies and coming up with six. There’s no more left from this wave. He withdraws the bat from the corpse and kicks it just to make sure it's not going to get back up and bite him.

Out of breath and sweating from the fight, Steve checks in with Billy after he’s sure that last one is dead, “Looks like we’re alone again. You good?”

“Uh..” When he looks over, Billy is pulling his hand away from his side, uncovering their worst fear. There’s blood on his hand up to his elbow, soaking completely through his shirt, which has been partially torn away to reveal giant gash marks in his side. A missing chunk of flesh near his ribs. It looks like Steve’s injury, but much worse, which makes sense considering this one’s a dog bite, instead of from those mole rats on wings. Rationality doesn’t make it less terrifying.

“Billy!” Steve drops his bat completely and rushes over to him, using his hand to press Billy’s back against the wound, applying pressure despite the way it makes Billy wince. He walks him backwards like that for a few steps to sit down on an old turned up tree stump.

“You know how I said it was only a little bad before?” Billy snarks through gritted teeth, voice straining with tension.

“Don’t. You’re going to be fine. We just have to go through the..” Steve glances over his shoulder at first, referring to the portal they had found. The portal that he doesn’t see even a trace of. He knows they hadn’t gone that far in the midst of the battle. His heart drops, his spins around, cranes his neck, desperate to find it.

But it’s not there, “Where’s the portal? I saw it, where’d it go?”

“Looks like we missed our chance.” Billy grunts in pain, forcing himself to sit up straighter, a sorry mistake that has him doubling over, barely able to speak, “Listen, Stevie, I don’t think-“

“Shut up. You’re fine. You have to be. I can’t do this on my own.” Steve kneels down to his level, tending to him in the only way he knows how, shaking out of his jacket and bundling it up, pressing it into his side. It makes him sick how quickly Billy’s blood seeps through the fabric onto his hands. He keeps talking, to keep them both sane, “We might be alone, but we’re alone together. You’re all I have. You have to keep fighting, for us.”

“Don't be such a sap. Just, get me some alcohol or something and I’ll be right as rain.” Billy smiles weakly, half-heartedly, trying to be snarky like usual.

Another snarl interrupts the mood, telling them more of those monsters are coming to where they are, probably to finish the fight.

“And maybe get me out of here first.”

“Can you walk?” Helping him back up to his feet, Steve wraps one arm sturdily around Billy’s middle, letting him press the wound on his own, carrying all their discarded weapons under his arm. They’re vulnerable like this. Too vulnerable.

Billy knows it, because he insists, “I’m fine.”

“You just said-“ Steve starts, but Billy cuts him off, the urgency of there being more dogs nearby outweighing his caution over the injury. Which is fair, because if more came after them like this, they wouldn’t stand a chance this time.

“I’m fine. Let’s go.” His insistence weighs out, and Steve begrudgingly walks him back through the long expanse of woods they traveled through in the first place, all the way to their shelter that way.

By the time they make it there, Billy’s barely conscious. It makes it easier for Steve to tend to him when he’s fading in and out like that, too in shock to argue or fight, but it does nothing to soothe his worries.

It’s at least a few more hours of bandage changes and shots of vodka before Billy’s fully with him again. Steve has taken the time to clean up most of the blood off of them, if not just to make the target on their backs smaller. He also found the least decomposed pillows and blankets he could find in their hideout and made a comfortable little corner to prop Billy up. It’s not ideal, but he thinks it might be nice to regain awareness in a slightly better state than when he went out.

The first thing he says when Billy is fully conscious is, “Hey. We’ll get another chance.. It’s not over.”

“I know.” With assistance, Steve ready to help as soon as he sees him move even an inch, Billy sits up on his elbows, “It’s just.. hard to keep hoping for something that seems like it’s never going to happen.”

“We were so close. Don’t quit on me now.”

“I told you I’m not I just.. I need a break.”

A reference to their earlier conversation. It hurts, realizing how long ago that felt, when really it only took them less than a day to fail so miserably. Steve pretends it’s okay, “Is this the part where you tell me I was right?”

“Sure. You were right Steve, stopping isn’t what’s going to kill us.” A slow smile spreads over pale lips, making him look more like himself, and certainly sounding more like Billy as he says sarcastically, “Just the gradual buildup of this floaty shit in our lungs from not doing anything. When we suffocate in a few hours, well, at least we got to rest right?”

Steve loses what he’s saying about halfway through though, because another sound catches his attention. He can’t be sure what it is, but after what happened, he’s on high alert. He warns, “Be quiet.”

Billy scoffs, “Damn. Won’t even entertain a wounded man.”

Steve shakes his head, listening and finally understanding. It’s surface noises that are distracting him, the distant sound of people talking and car horns and dogs barking that carry over in the dead of the night, so he explains, “No I.. thought I heard something. Voices.”

Billy looks hesitant to remind him, “Hate to say it, Stevie, but..”

“I know, I know. We’re alone, whatever. But.. don’t you think it’s strange how if we’re quiet enough, we can hear things on the other side?”

“I try not to think about it. I thought we already established that nobody's coming to find us.”

“Because they don’t know we’re alive down here, but what if there was a way we could contact them?” Steve’s onto something with this. Another breakthrough idea like before with the portal. He just hopes this one works out better.

Billy is skeptical before he’s even heard the plan, “Don’t torture me.”

“I’m not. I’m serious. When Will was down here, he was able to talk to his mother through lights, like lamps and things.” Steve explains the foundations of his idea as it comes to him.

Still not convincing enough, Billy rambles critically, “So we possess the lights and suddenly our problems are magically fixed? The portal closed on us Steve. Even if we catch somebody’s attention, what if it’s the wrong person up there? Some government cronies who rescue us just to blow our brains out in the backroom of a lab.”

“Then we find the right person before we do it. We have to try.”

“If you knew this all along, why only bring it up now?”

Steve motions to himself and Billy, the state of their clothes, the nearly identical bloodied bandages around them. Things aren’t looking so good, and that's his answer, “You’re hurt now. I’m willing to risk being hunted by the men in black or whoever the fuck they are if it means we have a chance at getting you help.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll play along. What do we do?” Billy shifts forward in interest, wincing slightly. He’s really hurting now. Steve can tell. But Billy’s hiding it well, so he doesn’t bring it up. Not until they’re safe.

“We don’t really know what Will did, but I guess you have to just touch the lights. And be careful about it so somebody can see that it’s intentional.” It’s the oversimplified version, but it will do.

Simplified plans lead to simple observations. Billy points out, “There’s nobody around.”

“Not on this side. But up there, things are normal. Life goes on. Empty buildings are full of people and light. As long as it’s somebody who knows about this happening before, we’ve got a chance.”

“Where do we find this somebody?”

“I’m going to leave it up to you.” Steve’s tone is rich with honesty, knowing that this is a tender spot for Billy. He suggests, “I don’t know most of the kids too well except Henderson. He’s probably noticed I’ve gone missing so he might notice the lights too. But then there’s also..”

“Max.” Billy finishes for him, his expression too multifaceted for Steve to even begin to break it down. What he gets most is doubt, “She knows about this shit?”

“Well, she’s been down here, technically. The night we fought..”

Billy doesn’t want to acknowledge that, enough other hints to argue about, moving on almost immediately to, “The lights in that house are shitty anyways though. Doubt she’d even notice a little flickering since that’s what they do all the fucking time.” He’s trying to make excuses for the obvious concern they both have without saying them. What if they don’t notice or care that it’s them?

Steve offers a solution, “There was something else.”

“Go on.”

“The radio. Will was able to turn on a radio, and Eleven could hear him through radio static. Nobody without powers could hear us, but if we flicker the lights and play music, she’ll probably know something is going on.”

“Think it’s worth a shot then?” Billy sounds more optimistic and stronger too. Like the idea of still having hope to be saved is helping him to push through. Steve doesn’t want to think of what might happen to Billy if this doesn’t work.

He nods determinedly, “The best we have.”

———

By the time they make it to Billy’s house, Billy himself is worn down. He’s slow and he’s exhausted and he’s just all around depressed. A sweaty, bleeding mess, much like Steve himself. Not that they could blame it entirely on the injury. They’d avoided this side of town deliberately, the memories too torturous to the trapped psyche.

The best Steve can do is offer his support, holding Billy’s hand tightly as they walk along, partially to help him walk with his injury, but mostly for comfort.

Even with a lethargic second half, finding the house is easy. Just from a year of Billy living in Hawkins they both had every path to and from the house memorized. The hard part is just going in.

Steve asks, after they’ve been staring up at the crumbled form of the house that was never really a home, and definitely not a place where he felt safe, “You ready?”

Billy doesn’t say anything more as he steps forward and leads the way, needing Steve’s help up the front steps but after that navigating straight to his old room. It’s unrecognizable under the thick black cover of vines and decay, but Steve can tell Billy still gets emotional seeing it. He sniffs, wiping at his eyes discreetly before walking to one specific spot,

“Somewhere under here is my stereo. There’s a lamp on the bedside table.”

That means he’s ready. Steve lets go of his hand and lets Billy reach out to the tangled mass of his death that engulfs their chance at discovery. Just touching it, the room fills with this overwhelming, static-like feeling, and there’s a faint, muffled sound like music. It’s indiscernible what's playing, be it some local radio station or the last mixtape Billy left in the rack, but they can tell something is. A fact which is accentuated by the sound of a distant shout in the house.

It worked.

Someone in the real world, and they both have a guess as to who that is, wants the radio turned off. An unfortunate confirmation that they are heard.

“Quiet.” His adrenaline kicking through the roof again, Steve shushes Billy, convincing himself he can hear the sound of approaching footsteps.

“I wasn’t even sayin’ anything.” Billy argues, his voice whispery and sad. This is hard for him. Being hurt and having to ask for help, and just being able to communicate after so long trapped in this dimension.

“You are now. Hush.”

For a moment there is no more noise from above, the only sound the beating of their hearts in the tense moment and the faint radio static.

Anticlimactically, it just shuts off. And then there’s nothing.

Steve looks at Billy and he’s already looking back, they nod in mutual agreement to try again.

Billy taps it once more, and this time, they get a real response.

It’s thankfully Max that’s been tasked with shutting down their sound, as she mutters, barely audible through dimensional barriers, Come on, you stupid thing.”

She shuts the stereo off again, shaking it slightly. But hearing her voice only means they have to act more, before this incident is written off as an easy to fix technical problem and they lose their chance.

Billy turns it on and doesn’t take his hand off, with Max’s further attempts at silencing the stereo now unsuccessful.

She raises her voice slightly, without being able to see her, sounding on the verge of tears, “Even now you just have to annoy me... Why won’t you let me forget you?”

Steve keeps his head down. This moment feels too personal. Even though it’s his only sense of connection right now, he fights the urge to listen too. Those words were meant for Billy.

Only out of his peripheral does he see Billy, who’s taken Max’s words as his cue to up the game, reach across to the lamp he’d mentioned and putting his hand where the long shattered bulb would have been.

They hear Max sigh bitterly, “Great. Now I’m going crazy too. Is this..?”

Her disbelief makes Billy tense, almost panicked from not being able to get his point across easily, or any more clearly than this. Steve imagines that as he does so, the light dulls, because Max’s next response is even more doubtful.

“Of course it’s not.. I’m so stupid. And now I’m talking to myself. This is fine, everything’s fine.”

But it isn’t, and as Billy applies more intensity to the radio, the correlated volume going up on the other side, they hear the sound of hollow thuds against hard plastic, the unmistakable sound of Max smashing the radio against the desk in frustration, “Why won’t you turn off!”

Interrupting her meltdown, Billy goes back to the lamp, trying desperately to get her attention, to answer her question and say that it won’t turn off because there’s someone who needs her to hear them. Steve joins in, reaching up towards the half-exposed ceiling light, which he imagines is still perfect on the other side.

It seems to be enough. In a fascinated voice that is thick with tears, Max confirms what they needed to hear all along, “So this is real. This is really happening. Then that means… Billy?”

They both stop with the flickering, leaving the room in silence and dark until Billy, very purposefully, lights up that one bulb as intensely as he can manage. Whether it’s from the effort that takes or just from the situation, tears are tracking down Billy’s face now. He looks like he’s about to break completely.

“I knew it. I knew it!” The effort, the plan, the poorly thought out strategies, it’s all coming together for this moment. They hear Max raise her voice, as if to be better heard on their side of things, “Hey, um, I-I don’t know if you can hear me too good but, just stay wherever you are. I’m going to get us help.”

Billy nods, but realizes she can’t see him. A strange expression that Steve can’t read settles on his face, and he flickers the lamp, a confirmation that he heard her.

They can hear Max taking shaky deep breaths, sounding in shock, “You better still be here when I get back with backup. I need proof that I’m not nuts. Just.. I’ll talk to you again soon...”

“Please be real, please be real…” Bittersweet, the sound of her voice slowly fades to nothing as she leaves the room. Their presence is known now, but they’re technically back to square one, without anybody but themselves.

This time though, there’s hope in the solitude. There’s a future for them if they can just assemble enough help to make that reality.

Steve puts his arm around Billy, careful not to bump the massive injury in his torso. For the first time since he’s been down here, he smiles a genuine smile, “I don’t think we have to worry about being alone anymore.”

#HarringroveWeek #harringrove #billy x steve #billy & max #this is pretty much my ideal season 4 #canon? i don't know her #pretty loosely based on the song itself and more just on the concept of being alone #also #monster hunting boyfriends #heads up this one is pretty long after the read more #ej writer #story by ej!#my writing

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tastefulstars · 2 years

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The Hunt - 18+

Summary: Running barefoot through the forest was probably a bad idea, but the adrenaline coursing through your body didn’t give you time to regret your choice.

Paring: Male werewolf x human

Word count: 1,325

masterlist

Disclaimer: This work contains Mature Content and is intended for Adults only (18+) - I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere - they are copyrighted and belong to me.

Running barefoot through the forest was probably a bad idea, but the adrenaline coursing through your body didn’t give you time to regret your choice. You had to be fast - no hesitation, no thinking - just moving on pure instinct. You could feel something creeping up the back of your neck, you wanted to look behind you but you couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk the precious seconds it might cost you. You knew it was only a matter of time until it finds you, you couldn’t keep up this pace for much longer.

You were prey. You were being hunted.

You felt yourself straining for breath, lungs burning and heart pounding in your chest. You had to stop, to catch your breath, but you couldn’t just give up that easily. Thinking on your feet as you ran, you decide to try and climb a tree and hide - you knew it wouldn’t really do much in the long run but you couldn’t keep going, the burning of your legs and chest was becoming too much and you refused to just let it win. You spot a tree with a branch you think you can reach and launch yourself at it, feet dangling as you try to pull yourself up. In the few heartbeats it took you to pull one leg up onto the branch, the beast was on you. It’s clawed hand wrapping around your ankle and pulling you down, making you scream. You land on the ground, the beast dragging you closer to it. You refuse to give up and let your stubbornness and instincts take over, you kick and scratch and do everything in your power to get away from it.

A solid kick to its snarling face makes it loosen the grip it had on you, and you take your chance - you pull and twist, get back on your feet and run. You don’t get far when it slams into you from behind, tackling you to the ground. You’re trapped beneath the beast, with no way to get enough purchase on the ground to fight back. It snarls in your ear, deep and low and dangerous, trying to make you submit to it. You vainly struggle again and this time it has had enough, it wraps its jaws around the back of your neck, sharp teeth pressing into your soft flesh, hard enough to hurt but not enough to break the skin. You fall still, not wanting to have your neck ripped apart accidentally because you were too stubborn to accept you lost. It snarls again as it holds your neck before letting you go and it lifts itself just enough so it can turn you around, laying you on your back.

You take it its appearance as it looms over you, it kind of looked like a large wolf, but real wolves don’t move like this, don’t grow this big - it’s lips were curled up into a snarl, displaying it’s sharp, white teeth. You could see its nose snuffing occasionally, taking in your scent, and its black eyes stared down at you, glinting wickedly. You shift enough to bring your hand up to its face, and huff out a laugh as you gently trace its features with a finger.

“Well, I guess you win” You murmur, deciding on teasing now that you’ve lost the hunt, “You gonna claim your prize?”

Almost immediately it began moving, leaning back slightly to give it enough room to tear your clothes off your body, leaving you bare underneath it. You feel a slight thrill course through you, sure it was the middle of the night and you were deep in the woods, but the idea that someone could walk past and see you pinned down underneath such a large beast - a werewolf - aroused you more than you thought it would.

It snuffed its way down your body, clawed fingers still gripping tightly on your upper arms and keeping you pinned. It begins to lick at your body, its smooth, wet tongue leaving a trail of saliva across your torso. You moan, wanting more, but you were its prize and it was going to take its time enjoying you. Slowly, so slowly, it works its way down further, licking and tasting as it goes - it pulls away for a moment, making you whine and lift your gaze to meet its and as soon as you lock eyes, it begins to devour you. You moan loudly as it licks at you, it’s careful to not let its teeth hurt you, and it doesn’t take long before your whole body is shaking with need.

It eats you with a frenzy, like it can’t get enough of your taste, until you’re almost screaming with pleasure. The intensity builds and a few moments later, you let out a loud moan as you reach your climax, entire body shaking, and it keeps going, keeps licking until it becomes too much and you push at its head. It relents and snuffles its way back up your body, nuzzling at your throat while you catch your breath. Your beast whines, nudging your cheek with its nose, and you huff and press your hand on its cheek, opening your eyes to gaze at it.

“M’kay” You slur, almost feeling drunk, “Want you”

Your words spur it on, reminding it of its own arousal. It lifts you into its arms as it kneels on the ground, holding you against its chest. It snuffs against your neck again, gently nudging you before it lowers you down and you feel its arousal at your core. You dig your nails into the fur on its back and shoulders, whining at it to hurry up, and it does just that - it presses you down and fills you up. It snarls and fucks into you with all its strength, holding you against it and ensuring you have no leverage to move. It fucks you like your its own personal toy, and you suppose, you kind of are.

You moan and whine as you stretch around it, feeling every inch, loving every moment. You could barely catch your breath between each thrust, it’s snarls becoming louder every second, holding on and taking it was all you could do. You could feel yourself getting lost in the pleasure, almost desperate for another climax. You start muttering, c’mon, please, fuck me, c’mon I need you, finish inside me, please please please.

Your words encourage it and it speeds up its thrusts, you hold on for dear life as you moan with each movement. You could feel yourself edging closer and closer, and all it takes to tip you over is your beast latching onto your shoulder, biting down hard enough to draw blood. You scream, the intensity of your second climax white outs your vision, you hear it snarling as it finishes inside you. You feel yourself being gently laid down on the ground, your beast still inside you and holding you as it rests above you.

It lets you rest completely on the ground as it pulls out of you and it quickly moves back in between your legs to clean you. You twitch and moan as it licks at your sensitive flesh and you don’t know if you want it to keep going or to stop, your hand comes to rest on the top of its head, and a few more licks later you whine as you feel another climax building in you. You fingers grip its long, pointed ears and you use that to push and pull where you needed, and you climax for a third time. You come back to your senses as it picks you up, cradling you in its arms against its chest, you feel light and heavy all at once, your limbs shaking like jelly, and your mind blissfully blank.

“Home?” You hum, closing your eyes again.

It rumbles in response to your query, and you let yourself drift off.

#werewolf #male werewolf #werewolf x reader #werewolf x human #werewolf lover #monster #monster boyfriend #monster fudger #monster fic #supernatural creatures #creature #creature:werewolf #i:my writing #story:the hunt

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askthelovenest · 8 months

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Slowshiptober Days 7-9: Baking Treats

I tried.

#slowshiptober #slowshiptober23 #selfship #selfinsert x canon #selfinsert #the witcher #the witcher wild hunt #emiel regis #vampire #vampire boyfriend #vampire x human #monster #monster boyfriend #monster x human #the love nest #all in good time #my art

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ickypuppi3 · 1 year

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#it’s called a pep talk look it up !!#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #psyching him up before you hunt monsters just boyfriend things #cut to the kids just standing there and staring #wondering what just happened #ickyposts

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toxooz · 2 years

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cuntri boooooy i luv yewwwww uaaah 👅👅👅 Ramsuse scribble bc i Will explode if i dont draw sum cowboys rn

expect Skate Squad cowboy AU in the Near future

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musicalchaos07 · 1 year

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It is a crime that I didn't get to watch Steve be Jonathan and Nancy's third wheel.

#like c'mon comedic gold was RIGHT THERE #i imagine that Jancy just cannot get rid of Steve and after a certain point they don't want to #but Jonathan refuses to say they're best friends and Nancy referred to Steve as her ex boyfriend always #and Steve is like these are my best friends/ parents Jonathan and Nancy #stranger things #stoncy #ot3:reckless driving #me: what did it cost the writers looking at stoncy: everything #teen monster hunting trio #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #Jancy

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dyrewrites · 6 months

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Why is it that reading fantastic prose motivates me and makes me want to dive back into writing...but the opposite is true for art?

#i want to draw the monster boyfriends #but i am bad at the menfolk #and reference hunting made me extremely aware of this

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lvmbien · 1 year

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i started quite the discussion today in the group chat

a server full of rook dislikers and i brought in the savana rook propaganda to turn the tides for some pro-rook energy

im forever in mourning over his freckles <////3

#put me in pomefiore and watch me try to fight vil on a constant #i would be beefing with that man over so much stupid shit and rook is no exception #me shoving old pictures of rook in vils face dramatically like; you ruined him!! look at how cute he was anD YOU RUINED HIM!!!!#FRECKLES ARE CUTE!!! STOP HIDING THEM!!!!!!!#BRING THEM BACK YOU MONSTER #in the tone of 'hello kitty has a boyfriend?!';#igni!charlie: ROOK HUNT HAS FRECKLES?!#pome!aries: HE HAS FRECKLES!!!!!#this definitely wasnt me distracting myself (and charlie) from floyds new club wear card wym #i am... so n; noar;; normal;;;;; ab basketball club floyd;;;;;;;;;;;;;#(delusional)#(charlie if you see this; no you didnt)#(i am immune.... totally.............)#lvmb rambles

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hellguarded-moved · 2 years

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// hide and seek in the forest with a feral demon turned sexual when

#ERROR ( );#// let a big scary demon hunt you down in some deep dark woods.#// i say feral but i mean it in a good way. u kno.#// the monster boyfriend feral way.#// my son has been tired of this mortal form he wants to be Unhinged

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m0thisonfire · 2 years

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Quick before work sketches of my End. characters. I love most of them so-

*main big bad being a fabulous asshat-*

Sybil: oh my gods...

Sybil: Oh My Gods Oh My Gods Oh My Gods Oh I Killed Him-

Watcher: Ah, would you look at that? Good Job! :D

Devanii, absolutely smitten: You're the reason I fight everyday.

Sybil, absolutely done: I ACTIVELY hate you-

Devanii annoyed: I am so fuckin' done with this group.

#end.#feral drunk dragon man crying in the club because he won't stay dead #him and his boyfriend being hunted by a soul eating monster #Watcher is eating popcorn #sketches #traditional art

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stolligaseptember · 2 years

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a shame the duffer brothers are too big wimps to really pull the trigger, because the older teens polyship of stranger things basically writes itself

#pls.................... they're all dating.#STEVE IS IN LOVE WITH BOTH NANCY AND JONATHAN!!!!!!!!!!! AND HE HAS HIS EYES ON EDDIE!!!!!!!!!!#VICKIE MAY HAVE BROKEN ROBIN'S HEART BUT GUESS WHAT!!!!!!! NANCY'S RIGHT THERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#AND STOP WITH THE FUCKING WILL THEY WON'T THEY OF THE LOVE TRIANGLE ALREADY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#NANCY'S IN LOVE WITH BOTH STEVE AND JONATHAN AND THAT'S THAT!!!!!!!!!#SO REALLY WHAT IS IT FOR HER TO FALL IN LOVE WITH ROBIN TOO #AND JONATHAN'S BEEN AWAY FOR TOO LONG!!!!! HE DESERVES ALL OF THE LOVE THAT'S AWAITING HIM IN HAWKINS!!!!!!!!!!!#and i guess argyle can come along too because why the hell not at this point #jesus what does this make it at this point. monster hunting...... quintet??? sextet if we're counting argyle??????#actually we should because that's a better name #monster hunting sextet #YEAH we've watched all the way up to episode 8 now so #expect a lot of bullshit incoming #stranger things #stranger things 4 #also shhhhhhhhhh i know that eddie dies i've seen spoilers but i've simply chosen Not To Care. he's alive it's fine and he's in love.#he only has one boyfriend but he got dragged into said boyfriend's polycule

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dannybobany · 1 month

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Really old oc of mine I decided to draw (because he kinda looks like Basil omori)

He’s so old in fact I was never a good enough artist to draw him how I wanted when I still used him so. Here’s a gift for my younger self :}

#he was an rp oc for a group I don’t talk to anymore #he was so fun though #he had like 5 adopted daughters through his run #the main one he had in the longest rp thing I used him for was so sad #she watched him die a horrible gruesome death and was never the same #and then in his next life he had a boyfriend who was a serial killer so that’s something #not just a serial killer a serial killer who KILLED ALL HIS PREVIOUS BOYFRIENDS #my guy was the only one he didn’t kill.#he had a couple other boyfriends in his time.#many very whorish men were drawn to him because of the religious trauma #he threw a wine bottle at a drunk girl #the drunk girl was ALSO MY CHARACTER #it was because she pie faced him with her pirate girlfriend #that’s not a metaphor #she literally put a pie in his face #she’s a whole other story though…#monster hunting drunken lesbian #ANYWAY he had this other daughter who was ALSO a serial killer #and once a son who was ALSO A SERIAL KILLER #it’s not like there were a lot of those it’s just they’re drawn to him for something #and he made enemies a femme fatale #he had a few enemies actually….#and 1 entirely platonic friend (except for that one time)#people around that guy either tried to fuck him kill him or got adopted with just the one exception #there was also that time he tried to kill a robot and she shot a tranquilizer at him #and once when he bit a guy….#and once when he stabbed a girl. who was his adopted daughters sister #OH THERES A MAX TO TAGS??? ok then #oc #danny’sdrawings©️

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littleststarfighter · 2 years

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When you survive the end of the world by partying with your (maybe?) Monster hunting boyfriend. Or are they ‘steddie’ already XD

(Yeah, yeah. I make dad jokes. My Gen X arse owns that. I'll see myself out. ;p)

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanart #steve x eddie #my fanart #I can't belive I havent painted in a month #too long #I'm so rusty

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lyonnerileyauthor · 12 days

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monster boyfriends that fuck you hard are great, of course. but i’m also here for monster boyfriends who go hunt an animal and drag it home just for you, who know when you’re tense and touch you all over, who lick you silly when you need some attention and hold you close to their huge bodies to keep you warm at night.

#monster fucker #monster smut #monster fuqqer #monster romance #monster fudger #terato

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ctrlhope · 2 months

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Butterfly (m)

synopsis: he’s been watching you. waiting, stalking his prey. waiting for you to tangle your pretty little wings into his web. chasing you. hunting you. making you play his games until you realise the truth that lies behind your eyes.

j.jungkook x f.reader

୧ ‧₊˚┊: wc: 3.6k

୧ ‧₊˚┊: genre: yandere, serial killer au, college au, dark content

୧ ‧₊˚┊: content: yandere!killer!jk, dubcon, predator / prey, manipulation, fear play, mask kink, slight sub space, slight knife play, strangers to lovers, “public” sex, drug use (alcohol), mentions of blood / injury, threats, allusions to kidnapping, dom!jk, fingering, rough sex, he’s mean but still sweet, obsessed!soft!jk at the end <33

୧ ‧₊˚┊: notes: found this in my drafts back from halloween and i never posted it! so here you go, to hold you over until my long fics are done <33 halloween fic in april lmaooo

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni -> dark content

Bum. Bum. Bum.

Your heartbeat is in your ears, pulse racing. It was too loud. Everything is too loud. It’s all you can hear. It’s all you can think about as your heels dig into the harsh forest floor. Your shoes long since been abandoned, mud caking your feet as you try to run. Tries to escape from the demon that had set his sights on you.

Him.

Fuck. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It really wasn’t. It was just supposed to be a fun halloween party! You didn’t really even know if you wanted to go to it or not. But your friends convinced you with the promise of free drinks and guys that were ‘cute enough’ for some random frat.

What they failed to mention? The simple fact that house was in the middle of nowhere. On one side a lake, the other a massive forest.

Like a pretty little trap meant to catch girls like you. Web tangled in the trees just watching for the prettiest butterfly to find its way into. To be caught in the den of monsters that lined every wall of the ancient house.

You were already disturbed when your friend's pretty jeep turned off the main roads, trailing through the woods. Realising just how distant from the rest of society you would be. How every bump of the car sent your little heart into a deeper flutter of anxiety.

Still, you kept your mouth shut. You didn’t want to ruin the night— for yourself or your friends. You trust them. They promised it would be fun. Plus! Their boyfriends were going to be there! So nothing would go wrong!

Yeah. It really wasn't their fault that a lunatic set his sights on you. Wasn’t their fault you started dancing with a man in a mask. Let him lead you to the backyard for a smoke, dumbly followed him deeper into the woods to see his favourite spot. Let him stuff his fingers into your little hole without even seeing his face, knowing his name.

Nah, you did all that on your own. Just a little kitten being led to the slaughter house.

“Okay babydoll…” He breathes into your ear, pumping two fingers deep inside of your cunt. Skirt that was barely covering anything pushed too far up your hips, showing the whole forest just how tight your walls cling to his fingers. How wet you are. How desperate you are for more.

“We’re gonna play a game, yeah?” You’re hardly able to respond, consciousness laced with toxins from earlier that night. Flush to your cheeks evidence enough of just how much you drank— the series of events that led you to this exact moment.

One he had been planning for awhile.

He smiles, throat letting out a low, almost nonexistent laugh. Slowly circling your clit with his thumb, almost mocking the way your back arches. Finding amusement in the way your fingers cling to his arm as his thrusts continue all to slow.

You’re needy, too needy. He knows that well enough. Can tell with the way your hips start to rock, start to squirm. The way your body starts to get bratty on him while your mind is too far in the clouds to realise the position you’ve found yourself in.

You’re cute. Too cute for him to take another second of this. Too cute for him to hold back anymore.

Wouldn’t want you getting too bratty on him anyway, would he? Then his personal treat, the slice of cake he's been waiting weeks to cut into will have to turn into a punishment. Ruin all the fun he’s worked so hard to prepare.

“‘Gonna need you to run into the woods. Fast and as far as you can…” He groans under his breath, the mere thought sending blood straight to his cock, filling his mind with nothing but pictures of you dirty on the forest floor, “And you gotta do your best to stay away from me yeah? Cause if I catch you… I gotta kill you and I wouldn't wanna have to do that… You’re too pretty to kill, you know?”

Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with him? What is he even talking about?

You try to process– try to understand the words that run off his tongue. But it's unfair, everything is stacked against you as he slides the mask off his face. Gives you a first look at his deep brown eyes. Lets you see how gorgeous he is for the very first time.

He didn’t even give you a chance to recover before he started counting down from 30. Doesn’t even move his hand away from your dripping cunt until 20– the expression on your face just pathetic. So close yet so far from the finish line.

Your race was nowhere close to its end. He’d make sure of it.

It wasn’t until his hand found your hip, gently tapping against the skin that your brain even had the chance to attempt processing his words. Figure out the exact meaning behind them while his lips continued to count down with each syllable.

Such pretty pink lips. Maybe he would let you kiss them if you tried hard enough. If you lean up just right maybe he would–

Wait. Wait. What’s happening? What did he say to you?

Your eyes glance down to your thighs, vision dazed as you try to figure out the object that suddenly pokes at your flesh. The sharp tip grazing your soft skin as you take in the metal; polished to perfection. The deep black handle resting securely in his palm, holding himself back.

Your eyes widen, familiarity cresting your features.

Shit. Shit!

You don’t even think about grabbing your own knife until 15, hand quickly reaching for your hip where you keep it tucked away. Too bad he had already taken it, knew the tool you always carried with you well.

Shit, his own personal little Nancy, huh? Perfect for him.

Survival instincts had to take over for you, forcing your feet to the ground. Urging your skirt down as low as it could possibly go as your legs take off in a direction you hope is the house.

Everything is all too much, it’s not enough. Every little sound is getting to you, making you feel like you’re going crazy. Making you feel like none of your senses can be trusted. Like nothing can be trusted except for the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

The woods– everything looks the same. You can't distinguish one thing from the next but you know you hear something getting closer. Too close.

If his words meant anything you need to keep fighting, keep trying to live. Even as pain stabs into your toes, sticks break under your feet. Even as you’re stabbed by bushes.

It was like the forest itself was out to get you. Like whatever beast behind it is your real enemy in all of this.

Maybe you can pretend it, maybe in your alcohol-addled brain that’s a little easier to manage than the man running behind you. The one with hunger in his heart that only your soul can satiate.

You try, you really do. But your legs can only move so fast. Can only take so much abuse before they start to slow. Lungs can only inhale so much air before they want to collapse.

Too bad he’s done this before. He can run.

And just as you start to be able to see the lights from the tree line, just as hope starts to fill your little heart, you’re forced into the dirt. Two arms wrap around you from behind, tackling your frame to the ground.

Your back presses against his chest as he keeps you there, his face right next to your ear as he pants. Breathe heavy in your ear, hearing the way it cracks every once and awhile as he tries to catch his breath. Lips almost on your ear while he keeps you there. Keeps you trapped under him.

Everything is starting to conflict in your pretty little head, body telling you to get away. Try to get him off. Wriggle your hand— anything out to try and fight back. Try and get away before he keeps his promise from before.

Yet, with every movement, every slight twist of your spine or kick of your legs under his heavy frame he only presses tighter, deeper against you. Presses his cock against your barely covered cunt. Makes you feel every inch of him that he plans to stuff inside. Make you unable to breathe while the rocks dig into your skin.

You put up a good fight, you really do. Better than anyone else. It’s too bad everything is going just a little bit haywire behind your eyes. The world starting to feel like a burden as you try to push away the arousal rushing to your gut.

Shit, you should be scared. Should be petrified of the psycho that took you into the woods, the psycho that threatened to kill you no more than ten minutes before. One that had a knife pressed to your skin and a scythe around your heart. But the chemicals in your brain are mixing into something that you can’t comprehend, can’t describe.

Everything feels like too much, he feels like too much and you have no clue what to do. Head completely gone to mush.

It’s almost easier that way.

“Almost got away, doll. But don’t worry. I’ve got you now.” His voice is rough, harsh as he tries to catch his breath. Teeth clamping against the crest of your ear, hips rolling against your cunt without a care in the world. Especially not for the state of your head. Not for the little world you find yourself slipping away into.

Too many extreme emotions happening will do that to you, won't they? Make you so confused that you’ll just take whatever you can manage. Even if that means plunging his blade into your pretty little heart or fucking you until your pussy wouldn’t even consider another filling it.

He prefers the latter. Too pretty for the former, huh?

He can feel the shift in your frame– one of extreme discomfort, entirely tense to one of a docile little pet put on display. The shift behind your eyes as everything becomes too much, little too difficult to understand. As you slip away just enough to make any feelings of pleasure elevate to new extremes. Let fear spur you on.

The only thoughts in your head are ones filled with him. The way it should be. Exactly should be.

Your hips move again, their last attempt to break free from his spell. Their last attempt to try and get away from the maniac. Yet it does nothing more than press his cock harder against your ass, the mock of a grind against the surface that leaves a pretty little mewl spilling from your lips. A grunt catching in his own.

Wow, you actually surprised him.

“Shit, not patient at all huh?” He smiles, lip quirking as he removes his body from you. Removes the only warmth provided in this hell.

You won't run. Not if you know what's good for you.

He doubts you do– led you right into his arms tonight. But that's okay. He can take over for you. Take over everything.

Hands grip your hips, pull you back against him. Let you imagine how sweet he could fuck you if you just behave. The soft rocking of hips against your own, the gentle way he moves compared to the way he holds you heavy on your mind.

You can’t help the moan that spills past your lips. The way your back arches to meet him better. No one could blame poor little you. No one could blame your mind turning off for just a little bit. Not when he has you. Not with the rough texture of his pants pushing against your cunt. Not with the ruined orgasm of before.

Arousal makes your panties stick uncomfortable to your skin. A disturbing wet patch forming against his own pants where you meet. A flutter erupting in your gut at the way he groans. Way he moves you with such ease.

He really could kill you if he wanted to.

You’re not sure if the realisation scares you or spurs you on.

It scares you more to know that it's the latter.

“I’m not either.” He huffs, air thick with fog, “Been too patient for you. Too fucking patient.”

He grunts, pushing your hips back. Back arching even farther against the forest floor. It almost hurts, it’s almost painful. Not that that really matters. Nothing matters when he grips the flesh of your ass, pulls the cheeks apart. Gets a good look at the mess he’s made of you. Can see clearly how wrecked his little girl is.

Pretty panties sticking against your cunt, thighs wobbly from all the effort of tonight. Shit, if he just hooks his finger under them, pulls them to the side he’ll get to see you all. Get to see your puffy lips, fluttering little hole. Get to fuck himself inside while you just lie there and take it. Get so drunk on his cock you might just fall in love.

Shit, maybe you already have, huh?

Good.

He forces your underwear to the side, stares in awe at the way your slick sticks to them. Imagines how pretty they’d look stuffed with his cum. How you’d tumble around the house, not letting a drop spill just for him.

Because you would know it’s what he wants.

“All of this for me?” He smiles, rubbing his thumb through your folds. Collecting your essence, spreading it around all messy just how he likes. How he knows you’ll like soon enough.

You can only whimper, clutch the ground as your head spins. Tries to catch up with every little minstration he makes. Tries to figure out what exactly is happening. What words he’s saying. How to get him to stop, if you want him to stop.

A shiver runs down your spine. You don’t think you do.

You’re not sure of anything anymore. Only the sound of a zipper running down, the shuffle of pants forced off hips. The hard head of a cock running against your folds like it owns them. Like it was made for them.

The stretch as he forces himself inside. The way it burns, stings with effort. The short, forceful movements as he fucks himself inside. Makes home in your cunt for no one else but him. Makes you unable to think of a soul other than him. Ruin you for all other men that come after.

God he must be big– how fucking big? You have no clue. You wish you could see. Look into those pretty, crazed eyes. Focus on the little mole under his lip as the pain turns into pleasure. Morphs something dark in your brain to like it, to take it just like a good girl. Make you crave him more than anything else.

But instead you stare at the dirt. Hands clutching at the surface as he fucks himself inside. Deeper and deeper with each slow calculating thrust. Fucks you full of whatever twisted definition of love he possess. Makes you see the light, the exact shimmer in his eyes. See that this is the only way to truly live.

“Shit, baby,” His voice is low, deeper than before as his hips finally meet your own. Finally fills you with nothing else other than him. “Been waiting too fucking long for this. Had to make me wait, huh? Fuck.”

His voice harsh, grip bruising as he tries to hold himself back. One last measly reprise he’ll allow you. One last second he’ll give you before he makes you completely dumb. Makes you see what he knows you need to.

“I-I don’t~” You whimper, though the words fall on deaf ears. Not that it mattered anyway, you didn’t even know what you were trying to say. Didn’t know anything except for the way your walls clamp around his cock. Body begging for him, urging him to start and never stop.

He sighs, dramatic, “Little slut, huh baby?”

A harsh thrust punctuates his words, jolting your body forward as you cry. Impatience, ecstasy? He isn’t sure which. Only can notice the way your fingers clench and unclench in the dirt. The way your pussy flutters around him.

“Aww…” He soothes, hips dragging out of your cunt before slowly thrusting back in. The pace slow, antagonising, “Poor thing is having a hard time…” His hips quicken a hair, pretty sounds falling from your lips at the movement.

“Gotta tell me what you need, baby. I can make it all happen then.” A low kiss is placed against your shoulder, the world crumbling around you.

You break.

“Please…” Your voice is soft, too soft, but he hears it. Feels himself cracking as you beg, feels himself lose his mind entirely.

Beg for him. Want him.

His hips suddenly snap, fucking himself into your cunt with force you never thought a human could possibly manage. Fast, hard. Pumping his cock into you to search for his own pleasure. His own release. Forcing you to take it, take all of him while you try to keep up. Try to find your own pleasure in the tangle of limbs.

You hate how easily you do. Or maybe you love it.

“God, fuck.” He can’t suppress his own moans, the feeling of your pussy wrapping so tight around him, squeezing him for all he’s worth is too much. Fills his head with even more nonsense about love. About destiny.

His hips would never even consider stopping. You feel too good. Feel too tight around his cock, feel like he should never stop fucking you. Keep you there forever.

“So perfect. So perfect for me,” His breath is harsh, his heart racing as your little sounds only spur him on. Let him know just how good you feel. Just how far you’ve fallen. Just how much farther you’re willing to drown in all things Jungkook.

“P-Please!” You whine, hips arching further. Moving him into the perfect position to scrape against your g-spot with every rough pound of his hips. No clue what you’re pleading for. No clue what you want other than him.

Don’t even know his name. Nothing other than how incessantly you crave him.

“Fucking brat.” He cusses, eyes pinching into a glare as you somehow clamp down tighter. Walls pulling him back in on every thrust. Milking him for everything he’s worth. Making sure you both know your place in this. Know your place after it, too.

“God, been waiting for this haven’t you?” He groans, hips stuttering. He’s too close, “Been waiting for me to fuck you like the pretty doll you are? Make me take everything from you?”

You can only manage a whine in response, cunt fluttering around him. Obsessing in his praise.

Maybe his words are true. Maybe he’s known the exact type of person you are since the moment he first saw you. Maybe he’s right. This is where you’re meant to be. Meant to be with him.

“Shit, yeah. I fucking knew it.” His voice cracks, “Call you a minx but we both know that isn’t true. Just don’t know how to think until you’re stuck on the end of a cock.”

His thrusts somehow pick up speed. Fuck you harder, deeper. He’s sure he could place his hand over your tummy, feel himself fucking you. Shit.

“My cock.” He growls, voice heavy in your ears.

You can't take it anymore. Can’t take another second of it. Nerves tied tight into knots explode, white dotting the corner of your vision as you moan for no one else other than him. Pleasure courses through your veins, pussy pulling him as he falls apart alongside you. A tsunami pulling you under, making it hard to breathe. Making you feel dead and alive at the same time.

Maybe the forest gods were the ones tormenting you. Making you feel better than you had ever thought possible before. Allowing you to see the light of the stars dancing in the sky, so far above the clouds with his cock still pressed so deep inside. Floating through the air as your orgasm runs through you.

He’s no better. A shell of a man as he slowly fucks him cum deeper into your cunt. As deep as you’ll allow. Marking you. Claiming you. Making sure you know your place, even as you finally collapse onto the floor. Finally come back to reality. Poor body too spent to focus on anything else.

It’s okay though, you don’t have to worry. Not about a thing.

He’ll take care of you. Fix you up nice and pretty for your next lesson. Take you away to his apartment, make you fall in love for real. Keep you there, with him, just like you’re meant to be.

Make all of the sick sides you try to hide come out to play. Make you realise you’re just like him.

He wouldn’t kill you. Ever. Even if he had killed the others, none of them matter. He’s been waiting for someone like you for so long. Itching to bring you home. And finally, finally you had fallen into his trap. His perfect little butterfly, caught in the web. Ready to be corrupted by the vicious spider. Ready for your wings to be clipped.

“Mine.”

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