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ashwhowrites · 1 year ago

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Dustin's babysitter

Eddie x Dustin's babysitter

A small idea that ran through my head. I hope you guys enjoy this🫶🏻 and thank you for reading!

Dustin wasn't a fan of admitting he still had a babysitter. His friends always teased him but his mom was just scared of the world and wanted extra eyes on him. Dustin loved his babysitter, Y/N. He always had a blast with her, she interacted with him and he liked to believe they were good friends.

Dustin groaned when he saw Y/N's car pulling up to grab him from hellfire. He hated his friends knowing, and he didn't want to admit to Eddie he needed a babysitter.

"Awwww Dusty's little babysitter is here!" Mike mocked, his voice like a baby.

Dustin blushed and rolled his eyes. So much for not wanting Eddie to know, Dustin thought.

"Woah! Henderson, do you still have a babysitter? Aren't you like in high school?" Eddie asked, confusion on his face and a slight smile peeking out.

"My mom is paranoid, okay!" Dustin argued he tried to quickly walk to her car as she still drove up, but he yanked open her door before she even parked.

"You okay?" She asked, Dustin sighed and nodded. It wasn't her fault he was embarrassed. She was simply doing her job.

"...well let me meet this said babysitter." She heard a deep voice say, definitely older than the young teens she was around.

Then a face appeared in Dustin's open window. She saw dark curly long hair and dazzling brown eyes. This boy was much older, and she was thankful for that because he was damn hot.

Eddie wasn't sure what smart-ass remark he planned to make. He met her eyes and found himself wishing he needed a babysitter. She was gorgeous, hot, and sexy all at once. In simple jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, but he swore she glowed. He snapped out of his daydream and turned on his charm.

A smirk on his face as he held out his ring-filled hand, "Name is Eddie Munson, and you are?"

"Y/N, it's nice to meet you." She said with a polite smile as she shook his cold metal hand. The weight of his rings made his hand feel heavy, yet she didn't mind.

Dustin watched between the two, eyeing the way they stared, and didn't let go of each other. He awkwardly coughed, causing them to jump apart with embarrassed smiles. Eddie pulled back his hand and held it behind his back.

"I'll see you around, Eddie." She said and pulled out of the parking lot. Eddie straightened his spine as he watched the car take off.

"Wow, she's -" he started but Mike and Lucas cut him off.

"Hot," they said in unison with a knowing smirk.

"Yeah, hot." Eddie agreed, his mind filled with her and her only.

~~~

"Pizza is coming at 7, so just don't be later than that," Dustin said to the gang as they circled in the hallway.

"Do I have to be there?" Max asked with a sigh, she did not want to spend her Friday night at Dustin's house.

"Not like you have anything better to do," Dustin argued with a glare. Max sighed but agreed that he was right.

"So my house before 7!" Dustin said one last time, the gang nodded and everyone understood.

"Having a party little man?" Eddie asked as he walked up, overhearing the conversation. It was a Friday night and he kinda hoped Dustin's mom had big plans for the night.

"Sorta! Why? Are you interested?" Dustin asked excitedly, Eddie was slowly becoming like a big brother and he wanted to hang out with him more.

"Will your mom be there?" Eddie asked slight hope in his voice.

"Nope!"

"Then I'm there," Eddie said with a wink. He couldn't wait for tonight.

"Okay! Bring your apron!" Dustin said as the final bell rang. He was quick to walk down the hall for class.

"WAIT! APRON!?" Eddie called after him but the halls got loud with all the commotion.

~~~

Once school ended, Eddie raced him with excitement. He dug through his closet to find his best clothes, and he picked out his best jewelry. He sprayed cologne all over himself and covered his lips in chapstick....just in case.

He didn't want to seem too eager so he waited to show up around 7 o'clock. He knocked on the door and rocked on his heels. He planned to talk Y/N's ear off all night and then ask her out. And hopefully, end the night with his lips on hers.

"You made it!" Dustin cheered as he opened the door. Eddie walked through and saw the gang all covered in flour.

"What's going on?" Eddie asked

"Bake sale!" Dustin said as they walked into the kitchen. Eddie did not know what he got himself into. A bake sale? Eddie does not bake, he gets baked.

"Oh hell no, I'm not baking." Eddie laughed, he took in the room and noticed Y/N wasn't even there.

"Where's your babysitter?"

"Right here," Steve said as he walked into the kitchen. A towel over his shoulder and a dirty apron on his body. "You must be Eddie?" Steve asked.

"Son of a bitch!" Eddie groaned.

~~~

After Eddie's big fail of a Friday night, he didn't have much energy for Saturday. Of course, Henderson has two babysitters and Y/N wasn't there the night he was around. And he got stuck baking over a hundred cookies. Safe to stay, he learned his lesson of jumping into plans.

Eddie was trying to work on his campaign when his line rang. He groaned and walked over to pick it up, figuring it would be Wayne. But instead, he heard Dustin's familiar voice on the other line.

"Hey! I got this new video game, wanna come over and try it? Mom's gone so you can bring your beers."

Eddie had to admit, drinking and video games were tempting.

"Babysitter gonna allow that?" Eddie asked.

"Y/N wo-" "I'm on my way" Eddie cut him off and raced to his room. Once again, he found his best clothes, sprayed himself in cologne, and grabbed a beer case from his closet.

Eddie prepped himself during the car ride. He had limited time to make his impression on her and a little time to get her number. He didn't want to ditch Dustin too much so he needed to give equal time to the young kid. And to make it not noticeable Eddie was going for the hot babysitter.

Dustin raced to the door to answer it when Eddie knocked, excitedly dragging him to the couch as he had the game all set to go. But before they could start, Eddie's prayers were answered.

"What's Eddie doing here?" She asked confused, Dustin didn't need permission but she wasn't aware he invited anyone over.

"New video game!" Dustin said, remote in hand.

"Nah uh, you still need to clean your room. Mom said that before the new game." Y/N reminded him with a stern tone. Dustin sighed but listened. His shoulders slumped as he walked into his room. "ONE SECOND EDDIE!"

"I'm sorry to make you wait. He didn't tell me." Y/N said, "But you can play if you want while you wait for him."

"Wanna join me?" He asked, holding out Dustin's remote with a smile. This was his chance.

"I don't know how to play," Y/N said, a little nervous. She didn't want to look like an idiot in front of Dustin's incredibly hot friend.

"I'll teach ya, baby. Come sit." He patted the cushion next to him, excitement in his stomach as she shuffled towards him. She tried to fight off the blush on her cheeks from the nickname.

She sat next to him and tried to listen to his instructions, but her nose caught his scent and traveled to her brain. All she could focus on was how amazing he smelled, how his T-shirt fit him in all the right places, and how his jeans touched her legs.

"Ready?" He asked, his head turned to look at her. She felt her breath get stuck in her throat, she had no idea what to do. She coughed and snapped herself back into reality. "let's do it!" She smiled.

Within the first five minutes, Eddie could sense she was struggling, he reached over and held his hand over hers. His fingers and thumbs pressed her fingers into the correct buttons. Again his scent filled her nose and his hair tickled her neck.

His hands felt warm and rough, but she liked it.

"See, you got it!" Eddie encouraged, slowly taking his hands off hers as she focused on the game. She was playing it by herself and successfully!

"Like this?" She asked but her eyes were still on the screen. His head turned as he looked at her. "like that" he whispered.

She turned her head to look back at him and held her breath when she noticed how close their faces were. She bit her lip as his eyes looked at her lips, her eyes, and back to her lips. She couldn't help but look at his lips as well. They were so pink and looked so soft.

"Did good?" She breathed out, her eyes still on his lips.

"Very good." He whispered, his right hand cupped her cheek and he slowly leaned in. He smiled as her eyes fluttered shut and her head moved forward. He closed his eyes and killed the space between them. His lips were on hers as he softly tasted her. He felt a fire burning in his stomach and fuzziness all over his body. Her hand slipped from the controller and moved to his chest. Her palms rested against him as she kissed back.

"ALL DONE!" Dustin screamed, causing Y/N to jump back and shuffle over. Eddie groaned in disappointment as Dustin interrupted.

"I'll leave you boys to it." She said softly with a smile, her fingertips touching her lips as she stood up, a little dazed.

"Can I get your number? Maybe take you on a date?" Eddie asked before his chance was up.

"Oh absolutely. I'll go write it down." She said as she rushed to the kitchen. Eddie couldn't help but keep his eyes on her as she walked away.

"That excited to play?" Dustin asked, seeing the huge smile on Eddie's face.

"Very damn excited," Eddie said, his smile never leaving as Dustin pressed play.

Eddie scored a date with the babysitter.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie Munson x babysitter reader #ashwhowrites

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hotluncheddie · 5 months ago

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My @steddieexchange for @lulalulens !! :) <3

wc: 3k | rated: E | tags: hurt/comfort, confessions, Christmas fluff, fingering, handjob, they both need a hug and they both get one

₊✩‧₊

It’s Dustin that causes it. Not on purpose, but he’s the catalyst. The uh, what did Robin say about movie plots? Oh, yeah, he was the inciting incident.

The glasses had a red tint to the lens that reminded Dustin of Cyclops, and Daredevil - something he was sure Eddie would find cool. He held them up in the air as he ran through the store back to Steve. Was sure Eddie would like that they were from the thrift, that they had story - were like an artefact.

And Steve agreed, was exited by Dustin’s excitement. Exited to see Eddie’s face when he opened them.

Always exited to watch Eddie smile.

(He didn’t tell Dustin that, since they were still figuring things out. Keeping being together on the low until, well, Steve wasn’t sure. Only Robin and Wayne knew, and that was enough, for now.)

So Steve smiled, agreed that it was a good choice, but also rolled his eyes, calling them both dorks for thinking looking like a comic guy was cool. But when Christmas Eve came around and the party gathered in the trailer to make it easier on Max’s still recovering body and Eddie’s still recovering reputation, Steve was exited. He shifted in his spot on the couch next to Eddie to watch his face, which was grinning as Dustin handed him the brightly wrapped box. Steve’s arm draped over the back of the couch twitched and his resolve quickly folded, he let his fingers find a wisp of curls to hold, to connect them.

Eddie opens the case with a laugh, agreeing with Dustins references. ‘I’ll wear these on my first magazine cover.’ He declares, standing and slipping them on. ‘What do you think Mikey? Metal?’ He asks in front of them all, posing with his hand on his hips. Mikes cheeks go slightly pink as he nods and Eddie sends a wink to Steve.

But then Steve notices Eddie’s smile fade slightly as his eyes scan the room, his breathing change. Eddie, with hands clenching his hips so tight his fingers go white, looks up at the untarnished ceiling of the new Munson trailer, and squeezes his eyes shut.

‘Now, not that I don’t love you all, but Wayne allowed me one Christmas smoke and I’m hankering.’ Eddie says woodenly, clapping too loudly in the sudden, cautious, quiet, and turns for the door.

Steve watched him slip quickly into his shoes and bring his hand up to remove the glasses, a tremor in his fingers.

The door slams shut a moment later.

He didn’t even put on a coat.

Steve’s hand comes to Dustin’s shoulder as he gets up from the couch, trying to tell him it’s alright, trying to tell him not to follow. Lucas pipes up about cigarettes smelling nasty, pulling Dustin into an argument about whether his present for Max is better than Dustin’s present for Suzy. Smart kid.

Steve grabs his and Eddie’s coats, pulling his own boots on and zipping up.

‘I’m just gonna, uh.’ he mumbles, half out the door and looking to Robin. He raised his eyebrows, she nods.

The yellow light from the trailer window cast elongated patches across the frozen ground, too cold now to snow but the flurry they had a few days ago still stubbornly remains in patches, glittering faintly in the light.

Steve find him, hunched over the front of the bimmer, shadowed by the thicket of bare branches that offer the only corner of privacy from neighbouring unis.

He approaches slow, Eddie’s shoulders are rising and falling a little too rapidly, white clouds of icy breath billowing out into the star laden sky. The glasses gripped in his hand, knuckles white.

A rogue patch of icy snow crunches under foot. ‘I know you loved it when I called you hot stuff last week, but this is taking it a little far don’t you think?’ He asks softly, draping Eddie’s coat over his shoulders in slow catalogued movements.

He rests his hand there, between Eddie’s shoulder blades. The rise and fall of his breathing is staggered, and shaking. He rubs circles between the two points of bone, hoping it’s soothing, trying to time it with Eddie’s breaths and is thankful as they slow somewhat, becoming deeper, less ragged.

‘Want to talk about it?’

‘No s’fine. M’fine.’ He mumbles, rubbing his nose.

‘C’mon, don’t be like that man.’ Steve says softly, his heart clenching as Eddie’s lip wobbles.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, swallowing thickly. ‘It was, it was like I was back there.’ He whispers.

‘Oh, Ed’s.’

Eddie rises finally, tugging at his sweater collar like the stretched material is too tight, sucking in great slow lungfuls of icy air.

Steve prise the glasses out of Eddie’s stiff fingers, slipping them into his pocket and manoeuvring Eddie properly into his coat. He goes willingly, pliant as the adrenaline leaves his body, hollowing him out.

‘I, I don’t.’ he sniffs, eyes brimming with tears.

‘Shh, You’re okay.’ Steve hushes, pulling Eddie into his arms. Hand on the back of his head as he buries his face in Steve’s neck. ‘It’s okay,’ he whispers, rocking them gently, his collar slowly growing damp.

They stay until Steve’s ears go numb. Until Robin and the kids need to get home. Until Eddie’s face is blotchy and red, but no more tears fill his lash line.

The party files out and into Steve’s car while Eddie slips back into the trailer, mumbling quiet goodbyes and closing the door behind him.

‘Dustin finally took the hint that it’s none of his business why you left, and that no one thinks he caused it.’ Steve says, tossing his keys onto Eddie’s cluttered nightstand. ‘All it took was Rob, Erica and Mike all agreeing on it. My opinion didn’t do shit, obviously.’ He smirks over at Eddie, shucking off his jeans.

Eddie grunts, just a soft puff of air from his chest. Eye staring up blankly at the ceiling, chewing on a lollipop stick. (Another of Wayne’s ‘we need to quit smoking’ ideas. It helps.)

‘But can you call him, tomorrow?’ Steve asks, pulling his socks up and taking off his polo.

Eddie blinks over at him finally. ‘Yeah, ‘cause. Wasn’t his fault.’ He murmurs, his eyes raking over Steve. All of him soft and fragile in the lamplight: he always looks smaller somehow, without his jacket and jeans, plaid pyjama pants and worn sweatshirt softening all his edges, reminding Steve how fragile he really is.

He steps over, pulling the stick away from Eddie’s lips, dropping it in the waste basket.

‘Come here, please?’ Eddie holds his hand out.

Steve smiles at him, dropping down onto the bed and pulling the quilt up over them both. He shoves at the pillows and leans his head against the wall, pulling Eddie down onto his chest and wrapping him up in his arms.

Eddie nuzzles in, cheek against Steve’s undershirt, hot breath ghosting over his nipple. Steve combs his fingers through Eddie’s hair.

‘I really thought I was okay, that I was over it.’ He whispers.

Steve hums, resting his cheek on Eddie’s head.

Eddie swirls a pattern across Steve’s skin with his finger. ‘I, I remember, when the bats, you know’ and his throat clicks on a swallow, ‘remember looking up at the sky and the, the lightning was red. Like, it was like the whole world was made up of these big, red, fucking gashes through the grey. Everything, everything, hot and wet and bleeding.’

‘Eddie.’ Steve’s voice cracks.

Eddie sniffs. ’Sorry, that’s, God. Depressing as shit huh?’ His hand splays out, long fingers stretched across Steve’s pec. He clenches his fist.

‘Hush.’ Steve chastises gently, squeezing Eddie tighter. ‘You know I don't mind. I mean, I still get nightmares, and I didn’t even, I wasn’t. You.’ His throat tightens. Eddie was in the hospital, for months.

‘Stevie.’

Eddie’s fingers are on his cheek, stroking gently beneath his eye. Steve breaths deeply through his nose, squeezing his eyes shut.

’S’okay, you got me, we’re here. You got me.’ Eddie murmurs gently. Steve swallowing back a noise, blinking away the sting at his eyes.

Eddie pulls at him, at the neck of his t-shirt, at his jaw. ‘C’mere, huh? C’mere.’

Steve opens his mouth, moving lower down the bed and sliding his thigh over Eddies. Focuses on the warmth and softness of his lips, the pressure of them against his own.

Eddie pulls him closer, over and up so he’s straddling him. Their mouths still connected, teeth scraping against lips, sliding together in a way thats hot and wet and makes Steve’s whole mouth tingle.

‘Can I? I I need. Let me, please.’ Eddie goes for Steve’s shirt, his waistband, pulling and gripping the fabric in his palms.

Steve rests his forehead against Eddie’s, he can feel his heart beat in his ears. ‘We don’t.’ he swallows. ‘We, are you sure Eddie? It’s, you’re, you were upset.’ he lays his fingers against Eddie’s neck, pulse fluttering under his fingertips.

Eddie grasps Steve’s hand, pulling it up to kiss at his knuckles. ‘I want to feel like I have control over something in my life Steve. I want this, with you. Let me want this.’ Eddie’s eyes are dark and wide and Steve cant help but fall right in.

Their hands move until they’re both naked and panting against each other again. Steve grinds his hips down as Eddie whispers in his mouth. ’Come on, we, we got control over fucking nothin. Let’s have this. We have this.’ His fingers pulling at Steve’s hair.

Fumbling around on the floor by the mattress corner Steve finds their lube. Taking a second to bite his lips and grind his hips again as Eddie sucks wet kisses across his neck.

Eddie’s hand retightens, this time at the back of his neck once Steve is close again. ‘Please.’ He speaks into Eddie’s mouth. ‘Fingers.’

Calloused fingertips tap gently at Steves bottom lips and he swirls his tongue around them, hollowing his cheeks as the hand on the back of his neck squeezes and he feels tension seep out all along his spine. His whole body going pliant and gooey.

‘A little more.’ says Eddie, pulling his fingers out. Steve uncaps the lube and squeezes some on, having to blink hard in order to refocus his eyes.

Eddie circles his rim and Steve licks into his mouth as a finger slips inside. They’re fully hard against each other and Steve doesn’t know which sensation to move towards most.

‘Let me in, baby let me in.’ Eddie whispers, demanding, pleading.

‘You have me, I’m here.’ Steve moans, a second finger slipping inside and stretching him out. His skin hot and prickling as he wraps his hand around them both. Eddie whimpering into his neck.

He feels the scared little monster of want and possessive need raise inside him. The fire in his belly morphing into something hungry and dangerous.

‘Don’t, you, I want you to tell me. Always tell me, when you’re not okay.’ He says, whining slightly, eyes squeezes shut. ‘No, no bullshit okay? I want, let me help.’ Because, because even if he can’t fix it, he can still do something, still be enough to help a little.

‘Steve.’ Eddie’s voice is wet. His hand comes up to cradle his cheek. ‘Stevie, baby, look at me.’

Steve opens his eyes, the moisture on his lashes sticking them together. His chest rising and falling rapidly.

‘I love you.’ Eddie says.

Steve gasps, hand squeezing them both reflexively, making them groan. Eddies fingers twitch inside of him and his skin feels too tight, his mind too foggy to process anything other than the beat of his heart in his ears.

‘You love me?’ He gasps. ‘You love me.’

‘I love you.’ Eddie goes back to kissing his neck, sucking a bruise and crooking his fingers just so.

Steve laughs, delirious. ‘You love me’ and he starts moving his hand in earnest, the glide slick with their combined pre.

He grinds himself down as Eddie adds another finger, clenching his teeth at the stretch, and feeling the familiar heat spread through him.

‘Eddie, baby, m’close.’ he gasps.

Eddie speeds up, pumping his fingers inside him, grinding his hips up into Steve’s hand. A needy string of ‘ah ah ah’s’ is all he can manage as his vision tunnels. His thumb swiping over their sensitive heads before gripping them tighter, moving his hand faster.

Steve doesn't know who spills over his fist first, but Eddies fingers were working relentlessly inside him, scissoring and pressing until he couldn't hold on any more, the spool of him unraveling itself completely as he came all over them both.

Panting, he looks down at Eddie below him. His hair splayed out, haloing his flushed cheeks and bitten red lips. Steve marvels at him, watches Eddie drag his clean hand across his face, combing his sweaty bangs away from his forehead.

‘Hey’ he says, voice soft and wobbly.

Eddie smiles up at him, cheeky, reaching up and spreading some of the cum into Steve’s skin where it splattered up as high as his chest hair. Steve giggles, feeling loose and happy.

‘Hey’ he says again, and Eddies eyes flick to his.

‘I love you.’ He whispers.

Eddie beams softly as him, his eyes shining.

Steve leans down, kissing him, not caring about the mess between them as he splays his hands across Eddie’s chest, sinking into him and he swears their hearts beat in time.

They kiss until he can feel Eddie falling asleep beneath him, his mouth moving slower and weaker until its just Steve pressing their lips together, feather light.

‘Don’t fall asleep on me just yet.’ He says, nipping at Eddie’s lip and laughing at the low growl he receives. ‘One sec, kay?’

Eddie squeezes him, mumbling out and huffy little ‘one’ just to be annoying before he lets Steve up. He goes to the bathroom to wash his hands and comes back with something to wipe them both off with.

Eddie is completely pliant as Steve swipes over his chest and crotch, lifting his hand to get between his sticky fingers. The only tell that he isn't fully asleep is the singular cracked eyelid that allows him to follow each of Steve’s movements.

He tosses the cloth into the dirty clothes pile, which isn't his favourite of Eddies organisation choices but right now he doesn’t really care about anything other than crawling under the sheets and wrapping Eddie up in his arms.

He falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Steve wakes in that slow rolling way that happens when he knows theres nothing needed of him, when his body and mind relaxes enough to let him sleep until he doesn't need to anymore.

He stretches and flips onto his front, shoulders popping deliciously and he just breathes there, eyes closed, until the smell of coffee permeates his reprieve.

pulling Eddies discarded sweatshirt on and a clean pair of boxers he shuffles into the kitchen, knuckling his eyes and yawning until his jaw clicks. Something in the back of him mind marvels that he can wander into the kitchen without the use of his sight and make it there just fine. Another part wonders, vaguely, how his hair looks, but those thoughts are quickly trounces by the chair he falls into and the steaming mug that Wayne places before him.

‘Merry Christmas kid.’

Steve smiles up at him, the first sip of coffee making him shiver.

‘Didn’t know hair could do that, must be a Christmas miracle.’ Wayne mumbles from behind his own coffee cup in his gruff, deadpan way.

Steve just scowls at him, taking another sip before he combs his fingers through his hair in an attempt to smooth it down. He feels the strands fling right back up to where they had been and shrugs.

‘My present to you. Be grateful.’ He says.

Wayne grunts, his eyes sparkling, and he stands to start cracking eggs into the heated up skillet. But not before ruffling Steves hair.

‘Ed, get off the damn phone and come get this bread toastin’.’

Eddie’s leaning against the wall with his back to them, phone cord tangled around his fingers. He’s back in his pyjama pants from last night and Steve realises with a burning stab that he’s also in the polo he discarded on the floor yesterday.

‘Yes. No. Dustin I gotta go, Wayne’s calling. Yeah, we’ll swing by tomorrow okay? Me and Steve sure, yes, okay. I know Dustin, I know. You’re fine. Okay, see you tomorrow. Bye, yes, bye.’ Eddie finally hangs up the phone, sounding exasperated but when he turns he’s already smiling.

Steve catches Eddie’s hand as he shuffles back into the kitchen, kissing the back of it and preening as Eddie kisses the top of his head.

‘Happy Christmas love.’ Eddie mumbles into his hair.

Steve sighs, happiness swelling in him.

‘Dustin wants us over tomorrow, he got new D&D stuff he wants me to see and he specifically requested your presence.’ Eddie says and starts putting bread in the toaster.

‘Bet if he knew you said it like that he’s get all weird, he only ever says nice stuff about me when I’m not there.’

‘He’s obsessed with you Stevie, that can make a person act weird.’ Eddie refills his coffee. ‘He’s fine though, now, by the way.’

Steve nods.

‘Speakin’ of weird, after that first time you took Ed to the drive in he came back with a real bug up his ass, wouldn't stop talking about-‘

Wayne is stopped abruptly by Eddies hand across his mouth.

‘Okay old man, enough with that.’ Eddie says, voice an octave higher than normal.

Steve grins as Eddie peaks over to him through his hair. Grins harder as they start to bicker, continuing to make breakfast in the tiny kitchen.

He’s definitely planning on asking Eddie about that later. But for now, he enjoys the comforting warmth that spreads through him. The feeling of home. Of being loved.

₊✩‧₊

sorry this is posting after the holidays but its done! we did it! hope u all enjoy!

Tag list: @scoops-aboy86 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @marvel-ous-m @hickeysgodcomplex

@cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots @chameleonhair @wheneverfeasible @hbyrde36

@bookworm0690

#hotlunch #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie winter exchange #steddiewinterexchange #steddie winter exchange 2024 #my fic #:)#ive not posted in so long omg sorry if anyone ive tagged is not interested i feel like i dunno what's going on on here anymore lmao

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craziertogether · 4 months ago

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will’s character is equally as nerfed as mikes.

tbh i hate to say it but it’s equally as valid to say that will’s character arc is equally as nerfed as mike’s IF byler isn’t endgame. will has been nothing but the stereotype of tragic gay kid. he’s experienced nothing but misery from the second he was introduced.

abusive, sexist, homophobic, AND absent father (who may have SA’d him, if you subscribe to that belief).

bros also literally canonically poor asf like brother… get your bag up fr.

LITERALLY GOES MISSING for a week and has his death FAKED by the government.

will’s trauma isn’t actually unpacked on screen, we’re left to wonder what happened to him and how he was able to survive in the upside down for that week when bigger and tougher people have died.

been possessed by the mindflayer for all of S2, brother cannot catch a break

forced to have a connection with the UD, vecna, and all that even after his trauma from literally being stuck there for a week

love joyce but her overbearing nature in the seasons isn’t that great for him either because as will said “everyone treats him like he’s different” (except someone hmm i wonder why)

set up to be this sad bullied kid, described as “all alone” by mike FROM THE BEGINNING. bullied by troy in life and even after his “death”. isn’t even accepted when he does come back to school in s2

is low-key replaced by eleven by the group while he’s gone. (i love willel don’t start)

mike replaces him for el, lucas and max aren’t as close with him in season 3, dustin has suzie and the russians plot line

wants to play DND all summer and is ignored just to have his best friends leave and join a new party like not even a little bit later bro.. the SECOND they joined hs 😭💀

has basically been sidelined for 2 full seasons as the guy who gets a tingly neck feeling every 3 weeks. he’s not even considered smart or brave anymore, js the guy with the little itty bitty twitches on his neck and loves to touch it

is STILL not well liked by his peers in california plot line because of his sister

lowk is forced to become siblings with the girl that his first love is dating (again love willel stop)

tragically plays match maker for the doomed couple (literally the ONLY person who cares about their relationship)

is written to be a sad gay boy in love with his childhood best friend since idk SEASON 1. don’t get me started in why this is actually js torturous to have done if it will end with m*leven endgame.

hes basically a prop for this ship that is TECHNICALLY STILL canonically true but leaves will with all his trauma and gay pining to currently be put at risk of being sidelined forever for the development of m*leven (painting lie)

wasted how much time on that masterpiece of a painting to then sit in a HOT ASS VAN and pour his entire soul into mike just to try and salvage a dead relationship

forced him to lie to his BEST friend, who, even if they byler not endgame is the most important person in will’s life next to his mother.

forced to LITERALLY COMFORT THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE as he’s still being a gay mess and struggling to say that he loves his own fake girlfriend

sat through mike’s piece of shit monologue and heard him tell his gf that he loved her like 10 times

not only was the monologue garbage but it probably felt genuine to will who’s been on the receiving end of mike’s motivational talks. although he should’ve clocked it as in-genuine, he probably feels like he doesn’t remember mike anymore bc they haven’t talked in months in this essay i will-

basically if byler isn’t canon, will is set up to be amongst the worst characters in the show. maybe his connection to the UD is deep as hell but even if they explain will’s secret powers or connection to the upside down, his personal development outside of the supernatural is absolutely DOG SHIT. he could be more powerful than el in the telepathy world and it would still feel like emotionally he’s been nothing but a sad doormat for the writers that only gets remembered every time there’s a small disturbance in the UD. like no development except pure torture and sidelining him for two whole seasons to be nothing more than sad gay boy that the entire GA hates bc it threatens m*leven endgame.

#byler #will byers #mike wheeler #byler analysis #byler endgame #miwi #byler nation #byler proof #byler evidence #stranger things #stranger things 5 #wiseheart #cleradin #byler is canon #byler tumblr #st5

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pearlessance · 11 months ago

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Watch Duty - Idle Threats [i]

Series Summary — Joel has watch duty with Jackson’s twenty-year old, smart-mouthed brat and gets more than he bargained for.

Pairing — Joel Miller/Reader

Warnings — Explicit sexual content MDNI, brat taming, age gap, mean!Joel

SERIES MASTERLIST

[cross posted to AO3]

There are certain, non-negotiable ways of post-apocalyptic life. For instance, food must be rationed, and in most cases water, too. Energy is to be conserved for necessary things. Looting is for food, water, medicine, and weapons first—then for things that improve the way of life. Everyone must be willing and able to shoot to kill. And in a commune like Jackson, someone must always be on watch.

Joel Miller knows these things. He’s been living in the end of the world for years now, has grown accustomed to this cutthroat way of life. Sometimes he even convinces himself he was meant to live in a world just like this one.

When he settled in at Jackson a few short weeks ago with Ellie and was assigned his job, he was grateful to be a watcher in the homemade tree blinds. Simple, easy, to the point. And, most importantly—quiet.

There’s always two people on the south side of the commune and two people on the north side. Joel is thrilled to learn he’s been paired with Mike, a middle-aged man with a penchant for crossbows. Mike is a man of few words, which just so happens to be Joel’s favorite thing about him.

Every night, they’d relieve the daytime watchers, nod to each other once, and start their shift. Mike brings a large thermos filled with hot water, and Joel smuggles in a plastic bag of instant coffee in his pocket. A rare commodity these days—but he’s willing to share it with Mike in appreciation of his silence.

Joel enjoys his nights of quiet. Especially after he and Mike make an agreement to allow one another to sleep in rotating shifts. It’s a blessed routine. Simple, easy, to the point.

So, when Tommy lets him know that Mike will be going out on a run for a few weeks, Joel isn’t exactly happy to hear it. He tries to convince his brother to let him be on watch alone—but Maria puts a stop to that before Joel even finishes getting the words out.

It’s too dangerous. What happens if you're ambushed?

Joel is capable of handling himself. They know it, he knows it, but Tommy agrees with his wife. And once the two of them decided on something, there was no use arguing.

His dread escalates when Tommy tells him you will be taking Mike’s place. Joel’s hardly ever spoken to you—has gone out of his way to avoid you, in fact—and anxiety spikes in his chest at the idea of being in that tree blind, stuck with you, completely alone.

The third day he spends in Jackson is the first time he sees you. He and Ellie are sitting at a table in the dining hall, eating a peaceful breakfast, and you waltz right up to the table where Tommy and Maria sit. Flakes of snow cling to the ends of your hair and your long lashes, making you look a little ethereal, like some vengeful snow goddess. You’re wearing tight jeans that leave little to the imagination and a white, low-cut, long-sleeve shirt that’s drenched and left completely transparent.

Joel has to force his eyes away from the sight of the black lace you wear beneath because the feelings it evokes are so wrong.

There’s something clutched tightly in your hand. Joel can’t see what it is, even as you slam it on the table in front of Maria. You lower your head to look her right in the eye, hands braced on the wood between the two of you. “The next time you have a craving for bullshit, go and get it your goddamn self. I’m not your fucking errand boy.”

Tommy raises a hand. “Hey, now,” he reasons. “Everyone’s got a job to do—”

“I almost died! I almost died for this!” If your near nakedness didn’t command the attention in the room, your shouting certainly does.

Joel tries to ignore the fury lashing at him from the inside. You’re just a girl—a young girl, and you might as well be naked for all that wet shirt covers. Was everyone in this town so fucking nosy? They should be turning away from you, not toward you.

Never mind the fact that Joel, it seems, is incapable of doing just that.

You pick up the item and throw it at Tommy’s chest. It’s only as his brother catches it and sets it back on the table that Joel recognizes the foil package of barbecue flavored chips.

“You’re a runner,” Tommy tries to reason. “That’s what you’re supposed to do; go on runs.”

But you don’t hear him and his calm logic. You point a finger at Maria, whose face has gone crimson in embarrassment, and bare those pretty white teeth in a snarl. “Go fuck yourself, Maria.”

She opens her mouth to respond, to offer an excuse. Only she never gets the chance before you turn away and storm back through the dining hall, slamming the door behind you so hard it rattles the windows.

When Joel asks his brother about it later that night, Tommy explains that that’s just how you are. Explosive, defiant, easily provoked. But you’re the best runner Jackson has, which was why you specifically were assigned to Maria’s task for her pregnancy craving.

But the run had gone south, and you’d narrowly escaped an encounter with a small group of men who’d happened across you on the way back to Jackson. Tommy doesn’t explain what exactly happened, but he mentions the jacket you returned wearing that was so soaked in blood you had to burn it.

The next time he sees you, Joel and Ellie are walking through the streets of Jackson. Ellie is poking fun at him, cracking some joke about Joel being old, when you come barreling out of one of the buildings in the middle of town.

Mike’s wife owns a bakery, Joel knows. And it looks like you’ve just done something that’s made her real mad—because she’s standing at the threshold, shaking her fist and yelling your name.

You’re running fast, sweet sounding laughter falling from your lips. You nearly run right into Ellie, but stop yourself a moment before you crash into her. “Hey, kid,” you say, a grin stretching wide across your pretty face. “You ever had a strawberry scone before?”

Joel snorts when her mouth hangs open as she shakes her head, eyes starry as she stares up at you. “Uh…no—no. Never.”

You pull a plastic-wrapped scone out of your pocket and peel off the cellophane packaging.

Joel watches eagerly as you carefully split the pastry in half. Your hands are small and smooth. They look soft, so soft , and he wonders what they’d feel like against his back, his hips, between his legs.

Ellie takes the halved scone with a smile, and it’s reflected back on your face as you watch her tear into it with her teeth. Her eyes widen as the sugar reaches her tongue.

You and Joel both laugh at her reaction, but all amusement leaves him as you take a bite of your half and let out the prettiest sounding moan he’s ever heard.

No, Joel suddenly doesn’t think anything is funny anymore. He clenches his jaw and says, “I hope you paid for that.”

When you roll your eyes, Joel resists the urge to take your face in his hands and squeeze. “Oh, please,” you say, voice filled with sarcasm. “I’ve brought that woman so much sugarcane this last week, there wouldn’t be a bakery without me. I think I’m owed a little scone now and again.”

Joel is inclined to agree, but the blatant arrogance in your tone stops him. Don't you have any civility? Any manners?

You turn back to Ellie and say, “If you want another one, go on and give Stella some puppy dog eyes. She’s a real sucker for the kids.”

“No, Ellie,” Joel says, fixing a scowl on his face. “If you want another scone, we’ll pay for it. We don’t steal from our own people.”

You roll your eyes again and start to walk away. Joel wants to watch you, wants to turn one hundred and eighty degrees to get a full glimpse of the back of those jeans. But he knows he shouldn’t.

Ellie distracts him, an awestruck look on her face as she chews another bite of pastry. She looks up at Joel and says, “I think I just fell in love.” And then she’s clutching at her jacket like she’s having a heart attack. “Oh god—is that what this feels like? Holy shit.”

Joel just grunts in annoyance at her dramatics, but he ends up thinking about you for the remainder of the day.

It’s wrong, he knows, to find you so appealing. You’re half his age, so full of life you’re bursting at the seams with it. And Joel is nothing but a grumpy, old man. Your polar opposite, really.

He has to refrain from asking Tommy about you during dinner that night. But there’s so much he doesn’t know, so much he wants to unearth. How did you end up in Jackson? Why are you the only runner they allow out alone? What happened to you?

There’s something that happens to everyone these days. Joel’s is Sarah—and then Ellie. He wants to know what your something is. He wants to know why you’re so explosive, defiant, so easily provoked.

When he crawls into bed that night, he tells himself he’ll stop thinking of you tomorrow. He’ll put his curiosity to bed and allow you to continue wreaking havoc in the commune without any interference from him.

Except Joel dreams of you. He dreams about that white shirt, about those skin tight jeans. He dreams about the black lace. He dreams about what’s beneath even that. About your softness, about that gritty fight he sees in you. Joel dreams about taking you over his knee and showing you what discipline feels like, and he wakes up the next morning with sticky sheets like he’s some pillow-rutting teenage boy.

It’s embarrassing. Even though no one else knows, even though he’ll never, ever tell another soul, Joel feels shame at the realization that a mouthy, twenty year old girl is what does it for him.

Joel pushes his dreams and filthy thoughts far, far away as he makes his way to the tree blind that night. He’s running a little behind, and he can’t deny that the sole reason for his tardiness is you.

You make him nervous. Uneasy, on edge. He never knows what to expect from you, and it drives Joel just a little bit insane.

He expects you to arrive before him. But when he sees that both Bonnie and Greg remain and you’re nowhere to be found his jaw ticks. “She didn’t show up?”

When Bonnie shakes her head, Greg says with a shrug, “We thought she’d show up with you.”

The answer leaves Joel’s blood boiling. How could you be so inconsiderate? The two of them have been on watch for hours—likely counting down the minutes until they could be home with their families. It’s rude, Joel thinks. And he has a few choice words to say to you. He holds up a hand and says, “Give me five minutes.”

Jackson is small, and Joel is…observant. He knows you live at that little white house down on the corner. And he takes the steps of the porch two at a time, banging a fist on the door. You don’t answer, and so he’s hitting it harder, well and truly furious now.

“What the fuck?” You rip the door open, brows pinched together. You’re wearing nothing but a pair of flannel pajama shorts and a sweater that’s two sizes too big, and Joel’s hands shake at the sight of you.

“What are you doing?”

There’s a light in your eyes, he notices—excitement maybe, or mischief. Either way, it sends off warning bells in his head, loud and demanding. “I was trying to sleep, asshole.”

The curse word on your lips sends him into a blind rage. Joel grabs you around your bicep, hard enough to bruise. “You have a job to do. We all do. Your little attitude doesn’t make you exempt.”

You snort incredulously. “You’re talking about my watch duty,” you infer, seething. “That’s such bullshit. It’s just Maria’s way of trying to get back at me for that day in the dining hall. I’m not doing that shit.”

“Yes, you are,” Joel states. He’s not sure why, exactly, it’s so important to him all of a sudden. Hadn’t he nearly begged Tommy yesterday to let him be on watch alone? “Even if I have to drag you down there myself.”

With a hand on your hip you say, “Then drag away, because I’m not mov—jesus christ!”

Joel’s got his hand tangled in your hair, pulling you out of the house and onto the porch. It feels like silk between his fingers, and he wants to wrap it around his fist. But, more than that, Joel wants you to take this seriously, to take him seriously. He pushes you towards the steps just enough that you stumble. When you look up at him, there’s surprise, anger, and something a little more heated in your eyes. “Go,” he orders, leaving no room for negotiation.

Much to his delight, you actually listen. You turn away from him and lead the way through Jackson, toward the edge of the commune. Joel realizes you don’t have shoes on, either, and the smallest bit of guilt weeds itself into his chest as he watches snow melt beneath your fuzzy pink socks.

When you dismiss Bonnie, she offers you her coat. But you mutter under your breath, “No, thanks.” And the words themselves aren’t rude, but the tone you use is, and Joel wonders where the fuck your parents are. You’re not old enough for them to be gone, but even if they are, they’ve done a real shit job at teaching you to be respectful.

As Bonnie and Greg walk away with apologetic looks on their faces for Joel and what he’ll have to endure for the remainder of the night, he holds the rope ladder to the tree blind steady. “Ladies first,” he says.

A wicked smirk tugs at your full lips. You take a step back and sweep an arm out in front of you. “By all means, ma’am.”

Joel doesn’t laugh, but it looks like you might. And your childish stab only serves to rub him raw. “You’ve got about five more seconds before I force you up there myself. And, believe me, little girl, I don’t make idle threats.”

You raise your brows in astonishment. “Fuck you, dude. Seriously.”

“Four,” he says sternly, eyes fixed on yours. He enjoys the way your mouth parts just slightly. “Three.” And the way your sweet, pink tongue darts out to wet your lips.

“You think that’s gonna make a difference? You’re not—!”

“Two.”

“Okay! Jesus,” you huff, shoving him out of the way hard and starting up the ladder.

Joel holds it steady for you, ensuring you make it up nice and safe. And, yeah, maybe he does it for his own benefit, allowing himself to marvel at your thighs, at the swell of your ass poking out of the bottom of your shorts, the sight of all that bare skin.

He climbs up after you, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. The tree blind isn’t spacious, and Joel finds himself wishing that it had a little more room because you and your sweet-smelling skin take up too much of it. You’re sitting in one of the wooden chairs, arms crossed firmly over your chest and a glower on your face.

Instead of taking the seat beside you, Joel walks the perimeter slowly, trying to find any disturbance outside. It looks quiet tonight, though, the only movement born from the two patrolmen walking the outer walls and the song provided by the wind in the trees.

Twenty minutes in, you let out a frustrated sigh that’s a little too loud for his liking. “How many times are you going to check before you realize that nothing is happening out there?”

It’s true, but he can’t bring himself to sit that close to you. “I’m just being cautious,” he says. He’s worried about wandering thoughts, about wandering hands. Joel’s sure you hate him, and if you didn’t before tonight you most certainly do now. But that look you’d given him after he’d pulled you by your hair is what keeps him standing. Because Joel Miller has morals, but at the end of the day he’s still a man. And he’s self aware enough to know that all it would take is one look—one fucking look that gives the smallest bit of permission and he’ll be throwing caution to the wind.

“Cautious,” you mock. “Of what, the wind?” His brows pinch together, a little unnerved at how parallel your words are to his inner thoughts. “Better be careful. The universe might huff and puff and blow this blind right down, huh? Fuckin’ stupid.”

“You watch your mouth,” he snaps. He’s tired of the disrespect, of the attitude. You’re a goddamn brat, Joel thinks.

You turn in your chair, facing him with your shoulders squared in challenge. “Fuck-ing,” you repeat, annunciating every letter. “Stu-pid.”

Joel can’t help himself, morality be damned. He crosses the small space in one step and wraps a calloused hand around your neck. You try to pull him away, clawing at his wrist, hissing in pain at the force. But Joel holds firm, leaning over to look you in the eye. “Let’s get one thing straight,” he says lowly. “You might be able to pull this shit with Tommy and Maria, but it’s not gonna work on me. It’s in your best interest if you just keep silent. You understand?”

There’s something on your face that gives him pause; something more than amusement, more than gratification. It’s hot and heavy and needy. And as you stare up at him through those long lashes, your grip on his wrist loosens in submission.

He leans down, lips inches from your ear. Joel feels you shiver in his hands as he repeats, “Do you…understand?”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. He can hear it stutter, can hear you swallow nervously. Good, Joel thinks. He likes that he makes you nervous, edgy, restless. He feels you lean slightly to the side, pressing your cheek against his greying stubble. “Yes,” you whisper, and the submission is so sweet sounding in his ears that he feels himself growing hard.

It’s that particular realization that has him pulling away from you, nearly outed by his own body. Joel finally takes the seat next to you and stares pointedly forward, out at the far end of the perimeter. He’s thankful when you slowly turn back around and remain quiet.

This he can handle, Joel thinks. As long as he doesn’t look at you, as long as you’re not spouting off at the mouth…he’ll be just fine. He’ll remain a man with his morals intact.

You pull your legs up to your chest, holding them against your body. Even though the tree blind provides a fair bit of shelter, it’s still the middle of winter in Wyoming. And Joel suddenly feels guilty about dragging you out here like this with nothing but shorts and fuzzy socks on.

He shrugs off his coat and lays it across your legs without a word.

But you have something to say about it, of course, suddenly forgetting your agreement of silence. “You’re real chivalrous for a brooding asshole.”

“What did I just say about that goddamn mouth of yours?”

Your eyes round and your mouth hangs open in hilarity. “Do you hear yourself? I mean, really, Joel. Seriously?”

It’s the first time you’ve ever said his name, and it sends a shock of delight down his spine. Even if you do say it in annoyance, it’s still his name in your mouth, and fuck, his resistance falters. “C’mere.”

“You can’t just tell me what to do,” you say, defiant. But you stand to your feet and set his coat on your chair. “I’m not just some little girl you can boss around.”

Joel spreads his legs wide, allowing you to stand between them. Even though he’s sitting and you’re standing over him, you look so small. Joel smirks up at you and asks, “Liked that, did you?”

“No,” you answer, too quickly for it to be true. “I didn’t like it. Not…not even a little. I don’t know how you got it in your head that you’re the boss of me but…but you’re not.”

He doesn’t speak. Instead, Joel takes a selfish minute. He lets himself drink you in real slow, raking his eyes over your face, down the smooth curve of your shoulder. Your sweater is too big, but Joel can tell you’re not wearing a bra beneath, can see the hardened peaks of your nipples through the material. Your hands hang loosely at your sides, but they tremble just a little. Joel thinks it’s real cute, how you’re pretending not to be afraid. Your legs are smooth, thighs thick and delicious.

Joel raises his hand, letting his fingertips ghost across the soft skin. He waits a couple of seconds, staring up at you, giving you the opportunity to run far, far away from him.

But you don’t. Of course you don’t. You stay firmly planted between his legs, chest heaving with each ragged breath.

He searches your face for any apprehension as his hand begins to move, knuckles running along the top of your thigh. He finds nothing but heat in your eyes, and Joel ventures a little further. When he presses his hand between your legs, he watches as your eyes flutter closed and you take your bottom lip between your teeth.

Your skin is searing, so hot he wonders how plumes of smoke don’t emit from you in the cold night air. He squeezes your flesh, delighting in the peaceful little sigh you give in response. He does it again, a little higher this time. And then the side of his index finger is pressing hard against the seam of your shorts, and you raise a hand to cover your mouth.

“Joel,” you breathe. “Joel, you—”

He stops, hand freezing between your legs. He expects you to shake your head, to take that opportunity of fleeing once and for all. He’d allow it. Encourage it, even. He was no good, proved even further by the fact that he’d touched you even knowing he shouldn’t.

But you do none of these things. You only press your fingers against your mouth and squeeze your eyes closed real tight.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

Defiant as ever, you keep your mouth sealed firmly shut for once. Instead, you use your free hand and reach for his wrist, turning it so his hand is cupping the warmth between your thighs. Your hips shift forward slowly, experimentally.

It’s the hottest thing Joel Miller has ever fucking seen. You’re so needy, so desperate that this little bit of friction has you moaning.

The sound is so much sweeter when it’s him making you feel good instead of some pastry, Joel thinks.

And as much as he wants to let you use him for your own benefit, as much as he wants to see you fall apart just like this, rutting against his hand, right here, right now—Joel wants to teach you even more.

He pulls his hand away, grabbing your hips and pulling you close. You stumble towards him with a gasp, eyes snapping open. You put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as Joel pulls you down, forcing you to straddle his thigh. He places one hand on the small of your back and tangles the other in the hair at the base of your skull, gripping just tight enough that it hurts.

“Gonna listen real good now, aren’t you, little girl? Hm?”

You’re nodding frantically, and Joel can feel how wet you are even through his jeans. When you start to move your hips, grinding against his thigh, Joel pulls your hair hard.

“Did I say you could move?”

You stop moving, even though you spit through gritted teeth, “I didn’t ask.”

That fucking mouth on you. He has half a mind to fill it up to quiet you once and for all. But Joel’s a patient man, and he wants to see you squirm, wants to hear you beg. He tilts his head menacingly and orders, “Apologize.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” he answers. “You said you’d be good. Now, go on.”

The glare you give him in response brings a depraved smile to his lips. But then you lean forward, pressing a kiss to his neck. The touch sends a shiver down Joel’s spine, and his cock throbs in his jeans, begging to feel your wet mouth. You kiss him again, just below his ear, and then run your tongue along his pulse. “I’m sorry, Joel,” you whisper.

And then the hand on the small of your back is pushing you forward, forcing you to grind against his thigh again. You let out a moan at the friction, nails digging into his shoulders through his flannel. He’s weak, so fucking weak. Completely at your goddamn mercy, desperate to hear the sounds you make.

He lets you move a little faster, lets you grind yourself against his leg at whatever pace feels best. A dark spot forms on the denim spread over his thigh, and it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.

You nestle your head against the crook of his neck, your breath warm and wet against his collarbone.

“That’s it, baby,” he says. “See how good it feels when you behave? See that?” You’re so soft, so pliable in his hands. It’s such a stark contrast to the unruly girl you were just moments ago. Joel could tell, even before he ever set his hands on you, that you were capable of being good. It just took a little discipline, that’s all.

The hand he has on your back drifts down, over the curve of your ass, even lower. When he snakes his hand below you and you drag your hips backward, his fingertips brush up against your entrance. “Oh, god,” you whimper, grinding against him even faster now, more desperate. “I’m close, please don’t stop.”

He almost listens. You sound so fucking pretty when you beg, and Joel thinks he’d be perfectly content to listen to you for the rest of his life.

But no. No. You could apologize and beg all you wanted. That doesn’t mean the lesson is learned. Joel pulls his hand away and forces you off him, back onto stumbling feet.

“What the fuck, Joel?!” Your hands are clenched into fists at your side, but your fury only proves his point.

“What did I say about that mouth? Hm?”

Your lips part, and Joel has no doubt there’s another insult on the tip of your tongue. But the threat in his eyes must be enough to dissuade you because you’re rendered silent, deciding to close your sweet mouth and clench your teeth instead.

“Not so hard, was it?” Joel shifts in his seat, settling lower, very much enjoying the glower on your face. “Don’t worry, little girl. You won’t forget your manners anymore when I’m done with you. Take off your shorts.”

The muscle in your jaw feathers, but you do as told. And Joel is proud of you, really. So, so proud of you. He watches as you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and pull them down, kicking them away with your feet.

Seeing you bare before him is magnificent, so beautiful it hurts him. Your face turns a sweet shade of pink as he takes you in; memorizing the way your pussy looks. Joel adjusts himself through his jeans, cock aching painfully. You don’t deserve an ounce of praise, not right now. Not after all the attitude you’ve given him. But the words escape him anyway. “You’re so pretty, baby,” he says. “The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Joel leans forward, presses his mouth to your belly. And again, lower this time. His kisses are slow and soft, his stubble tickling your skin. Your fingers thread themselves through his peppery curls, tugging softly, and Joel can’t hold back his moan at the sensation.

You feel so good, and Joel knows you’ll taste even better. He convinces himself that it’s for him, not for you, as he runs his tongue along the seam of your pussy. He does it again, licking desperately, wondering if he’ll ever get his fill of you. It’s just for him, he reminds himself.

You’re so wet that every soft stroke of his tongue makes an obscene sound, but it’s the sounds you’re making that keep his mouth between your legs.

“God, Joel, yes—mmm. That feels so good,” you moan, pressing his face against you harder. You start to tilt your hips against his face, spreading your legs wider. Joel glances up to see your head thrown back, goosebumps rising over your throat. He can’t tell if it’s the cold or him that creates them, but he selfishly hopes for the latter.

He sucks your clit into his mouth, circling it with the tip of his tongue, and he feels your legs begin to shake, hears your breathing slow. And then he pulls away, and the sight of your eyes as they turn glassy in desperation makes every bit of his own suffering worth it.

You know well enough by now not to scream in protest like last time, but he can see that you want to. You’re learning. Good, Joel thinks.

“Turn around,” he says. And you do, but he can feel the rage radiating off your skin. He pulls you back into his lap, laying your legs over his, spreading you real wide.

When you finally realize his intention, your whole body melts against his chest. And it’s trust he senses then, a warm feeling that cuts through him like a razor. You’re trusting him to make you feel good, Joel knows—and he has every intention of doing just that.

His hands are cold as they drift up the inside of your thighs. He drags them back down, and then back up even slower this time. He does this again and again, feeling you, tracing patterns into your skin, savoring the feel of you in his hands. By the time his fingertips ghost across your pussy, you’re trembling in anticipation. “Please,” you beg.

Joel presses one hand to your belly, just below your navel, and uses the other to slide his middle and index fingers through your wetness. He moves easily, gliding them over your clit, down to your entrance, circling it with the pads of his fingers but never sinking in. You tilt your hips towards them, desperate to feel them inside of you.

You’re so beautiful like this, Joel thinks. All needy whimpers and frantic movements. He swipes his fingers over your clit, back and forth, picking up speed as your moans grow louder.

“This all for me, little girl? You’re so wet. Look at you, makin’ a big mess in my lap.” He presses a kiss to the side of your neck.

Your knuckles turn white as you grip the arms of his chair. “Joel,” you cry out. “Joel, please, I’m gonna—!”

He stops, pulling his hand away completely. He winds it around your trembling thigh instead, spreading you so wide your muscles burn. He clicks his tongue right next to your ear, and you can feel him smiling into your hair. “ Nuh uh, baby,” he says. “Not yet. Not until I say so.”

You raise your hands to the back of his head, pulling on his hair, writhing in his lap like a woman possessed, grinding against nothing. Your slick drips down your legs, and even though you’re near to tears, Joel knows you’re enjoying this. Knows you need this. “Please,” you beg. “Please, please, just—!”

“Shh, s’alright,” he says. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head. I’m gonna take real good care of ya as long as you behave.” His words seem to relax you a little. Joel works the tension from your muscles, massaging slowly. He doesn’t touch you again until your breathing evens out.

Joel slips his hand beneath your sweater, palming your breast, squeezing the supple flesh between his rough hands. His thumb smooths across your nipple, hardens it into a perfect little point.

It feels so good that you close your eyes and lean your head back against him, so focused on the feeling of his calloused hands that it takes you by surprise when his fingers find your pussy again.

This time, he circles your clit once, twice, and then he’s pushing two fingers inside of you. He slides in easily, your body so worked up and desperate for him that it pulls him in. His fingers are thick, stretching you, pressing in deep. He hooks them upwards, searching, searching— there. “Ohh, yes —yes, please, Joel, fuck.”

He begins to slide his fingers out of you, but you grasp his wrist and push them right back in.

“Wait, no! No, no, please, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean it, god, just touch me, please, please, please, ” you rush out, all in a single breath.

Joel thinks you look like damnation as you fuck yourself with his hand, moving it of your own accord, whining when you can’t get enough pressure. “Oh, baby,” he says, wiping away the tear that’s spilling down your cheek. “That’s alright, hm? I know you don’t mean it. I can see what a good girl you are. S’okay.” He presses his thumb against your clit and begins moving his hand again, thrusting his fingers inside you, caressing that sweet spot you can never reach on your own.

Silently, Joel begins to panic. Because you’re so tight, so wet, so perfect. His perfect little girl. And he knows this is wrong, knows that while, yeah, technically, you’re an adult, Joel fucking knows better than to touch someone like you. He knows what other people will think of him, what they’ll say behind his back, what they’ll whisper about in the dining hall. He should stop it right here, right now, while there’s still a sliver of redemption to be had for him.

But he can’t. He can’t. Not now, and he worries he’ll never be able to. Because no one, fucking no one has ever felt like this.

He picks up his pace, trying to push the thoughts from his mind. He feels you clamp down around his fingers, feels your walls tighten so much it makes a deep groan rumble through his chest. You’re close, he knows. He can see it, can feel it.

“ Joel,” you plead when he pulls his fingers out of you. Your tears are falling freely now. Big, fat, alligator tears on your flushed cheeks. You let out a ragged moan as he pinches your nipple beneath your sweater and for a split second, he thinks he’s fucked up. Thinks he’s strung you so tight that the little bit of pain and pleasure has you tumbling over the edge.

Thankfully, though, you’re only shaking in blissful agony.

“Oh my god,” you cry, hands trembling as you scratch at his arms. Every small movement of your hips has your ass rubbing against his erection, and it’s almost enough. Watching you shake, hearing you beg for him. It’s almost enough to do him in entirely. Almost. “Please, Joel, I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, I promise.”

He presses a kiss to your jaw, licking the salt from your sweat-slick skin. “I know you will be, baby,” he says gently. “I told you, didn’t I? Told you you’d remember your manners by the time I was done. And I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

You’re whimpering, so desperate for his hands, his mouth, for anything, that you don’t even notice what he’s doing as he reaches beneath you. No, you’re too busy grinding against his hand to notice as Joel unzips his jeans and pulls his cock out until he’s holding it against you.

He’s got his cock between your pussy and the palm of his hand, pushing it against you hard. You feel so good against him, so warm and wet, and Joel’s moaning right along with you. Your clit is so swollen he can feel it as you grind it against the head of his cock, delicate fingers wrapped around his bicep. “Ohh, yeah. Feels real good, don’t it, pretty girl? Jus’ like that.”

“I want it, Joel,” you say, voice sweet and whiny and angelic. “Put it in, please, please.”

“Gotta get you right on the edge first,” he says, palming your breast. “Gotta make it hurt. Haven’t you learned by now, little girl?”

“But it does! It hurts, Joel, please!”

Joel leans his head back and chuckles lowly. “I know it does, I know, baby. You can take a little more though, hm? Just a little more so you remember this lesson.” So you remember me.

The thought comes wicked and unwanted. But it’s there, it’s there, embedded in his brain. Joel swallows, can feel your exhaustion as the tremble in your legs returns. And then he stops. He pulls his cock away from your warm heat and taps it against your clit as you cry out for him.

“Shh, I know, sweetheart,” he coos in your ear. He wants to wait until your body calms back down, until you’re loose and pliable again. But he can’t wait another minute, not one more goddamn second. “Don’t worry, I’ve got ya,” he says. Joel lines himself up against your entrance, so wet it’s already dripping down over him.

You’re panting as he pushes in slow, stretching you wide. You’re so tight that Joel’s not sure it’ll fit despite how soaked you are. But he works himself in inch by inch, and once he’s fully seated inside you he’s met with a wave of pride so intense he wraps his arms around your middle and rests his head against your shoulder. “Yes,” you cry, breathing a sigh of relief. “It’s so big, Joel. God.”

“You take me s’good, baby.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder, your cheek, your temple. “Gonna fuck you now, hm? Gonna fuck this little pussy real good, promise.” Joel pulls out almost completely and thrusts himself back in, slamming his hips up against yours. You let out a whine so loud he chuckles and uses a hand to cover your mouth. “Shh, quiet now,” he tells you. “Don’t want anyone getting any ideas about what we’re doing up here.”

When you stick out your tongue and suck his middle finger into your mouth, Joel’s cock twitches inside of you. Your mouth is so soft, so fucking soft he thinks he might die. Might have a heart attack right here, still inside you. You meet each of his thrusts by grinding down against him, moaning around his fingers, the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

Joel reaches his free hand down and rubs your clit, and two seconds later your pussy grips him like a vice. “Hold it,” he orders.

With a shake of your head, you bounce in his lap harder. “I can’t, I can’t, I—!”

“Yes you can. You can. Not till I say so, little girl. Hold it,” he says. And just because he’s decided he likes you, Joel grants you a little relief and lessens the pressure on your clit. Your walls flutter around him, and it nearly does him in. He wants to hear you, wants to fucking see you.

He straightens in his seat, allowing for a better view. He leans over your shoulder and watches where he disappears inside you, fucks into you a little harder.

With one last kiss against your forehead, Joel says, “Go ahead, baby. Come for me.”

That’s all it takes. You go silent for a moment, breath held in your lungs, And then you’re shaking in his hands, a whimpering mess, flooding his lap. You say his name over and over, a prayer, or perhaps a curse.

“That’s it, little girl. Ohh, it’s so good, hm? Feel so good when you earn it. Good girl, baby. Good fuckin’ girl. My good little girl. Yeah, there you go.” He’s talking you through it, watching it all unfold, watching you tighten around him so hard you’re nearly pushing his cock out. But Joel keeps it buried inside you, forcing it right up against that sweet spot.

It’s right then that he knows.

Joel will never, ever be free of you. Not now. Not knowing how it feels to be inside you, knowing how it feels when you lose yourself because of him. Whatever redemption there was for him is gone now, evaporated into thin air, never to be found again.

He pulls out with just enough time to spill his come onto your thighs, fisting his cock in his hand. It’s almost a painful end, not being able to finish inside of you.

But then you reach between your legs and run your hand through the stickiness. You bring it to your mouth and suck your fingers clean.

Joel watches every movement, hard again at the sight.

As you stare up at him, he knows you feel it, too. That energy shift, intense and wicked and damning.

Wisps of your hair stick to your forehead, the back of your neck. You pull your fingers out of your mouth, and your swollen lips curve into a grin. You look so beautiful that it pains him. You stand back up on wobbly legs, using his thigh as support while you pull your shorts back on.

Joel thinks you look even better as you slip your arms through his coat. It swallows you up, but it’s his and it’s on you and the sight feels like a kick to the gut. He stuffs himself back into his jeans before he can ravage you again, before he makes the situation even worse.

You pick up his rifle from the floor and settle back into his lap. Joel has half a mind to push you away, to get some much-needed distance, to give you your last chance at freedom.

But he’s a selfish man. So he doesn’t. He lets you lean back against him, even wraps his arms around your waist. You lay the weapon across your legs carefully. “If watch duty is always this good, tell Maria to sign me up.”

[part two]

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admirationandromantics · 2 months ago

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Guilt and Grudges, Prologue

The awaited time is done! 52 000 words later, aka 88 pages, plus a couple of months and you get results! I'm finally posting the first chapter of the Chris x reader game based story. Thank you all to those who have supported me through this time! Anyways, I'll be making a taglist for this one (didn't do it on the Josh one), so please send me a message or comment if you're interested in being on it.

There'll be a total of 12 chapters. 1-10, as in the game, but also a prologue and epilogue included. There'll be one chapter posted each day. Please keep in mind that I'm not a professional writer, and there will be mistakes here and there. This story will also feature less smut than the Josh one, as to complement the characters correctly (Don't worry, there will be some, and it will be hot and heavy. Bear with me!)

The night was icy and cold, but the fire in the lodge kept us all warm inside. The annual winter getaway to the washington lodge was upon us, and the dark snowstorm outside made the mood much cooler and mysterious. I loved it. I think we all did.

The party was barely beginning, everyone drinking and having the time of their lives. Sam was sitting with her drawing pad, Ashley and Matt were joking around, and Mike and Emily were going out in the hall every now and then to make out, Jess interrupting them regularly to steal Em away. They did that many times throughout the night, sly smiles on their lips as they came back into their room. I don’t know what they were planning, but considering the girl, it was going to be nasty.

I sat on the couch with Sam, Chris, and Josh, everyone joking around and laughing. Chris has had a few too many beers, making him stutter and slur his words. Josh was even worse, sentences being completely backwards and laughing at every little thing that was said.

I look over at Sam, giving her a tight smile. These guys were going to drink until they laid flat on the floor. She nods over to Chris, signalling for me to talk to him. She knows about my crush, how I yearn for his attention and presence. But I was never brave enough to tell him that. He’s a jokester, a smart and funny guy. He’s incredibly pretty, his eyes sparkly and vibrant. I feel completely hopeless when imagining him. She knows all this, and has several times tried to make me confess, but I refuse. Worst case scenario, he doesn’t feel the same, and everything will change. We have a good, friendly dynamic, and I don’t want to ruin that.

I signal back to her with my eyes, saying “No way, never gonna happen”. She smiles kindly, as if she’s trying to say that it’ll be okay. I shake my head in response.

“Is this that type of girl-language us men can’t understand?” Chris asks, looking back and forth between us.

“I would say it’s an exaggeration to call you two men” Sam responds, a smirk playing on her face.

“Oof, hard one. And why would you say that?”

“Because you need a brain”

“Hey, I get the best grades in my class” Chris defends, and I laugh at their banter. Josh is paying close attention, well, as much as he can in his state.

“Well, maybe there’s other things you should be smart about” She says, looking over at me. Panic rises in my chest at her boldness. Shit, shit, shit. Chris looks over to me, confused by her statement.

“Do you get what she means?”

“No idea” I answer, killing her in my mind. God, was she going to get yelled at later. Maybe I would sneak in while she took a bath, stealing her clothes and hiding them somewhere in the lodge.

Josh shifts his gaze between me and Chris, thoughts battling in his mind. I look at him weakly, unsure about what he’s thinking about. Suddenly, he gets a realization.

“Omg, Chris, she has a crush-”

Sam quickly covers his mouth with her hand before leaning in and whispering in his ear. My heart falls by the words, the panic rising once again. This can’t be. Why can’t this man keep his mouth shut? He turns her head, whispering back, and she laughs. Chris furrows his brows, not understanding what’s happening. Finally, Josh turns to us again, taking a deep breath.

“Well, didn’t you hear me, Chris?”

“You just said she has a crush? On who? What is happening?”

“Dude, chill. I just said that this girl has a crushing need for more alcohol” he raises his hand. “Look at her, almost sober. Serve the lady, Chris, be a gentleman” he continues, smiling at his own cleverness.

“Jesus Christ, well the lady can ask me herself, can she not?”

I laugh, the saving being a tad funnier than anticipated. Chris rises, taking my glass in his hand.

“Does anyone else want something?”

“Six shots!” Sam shouts, and he sighs loudly while walking back to the kitchen. When he’s out of earshot, I focus my attention back on them.

“Are you guys insane???”

“Not only you Sam, but you too Josh? You almost made me friendless!”

Both of them laugh, not taking me seriously. I give them a smack on each knee before leaning back on the couch again. These people were monsters. And Josh almost ruined me.

Chris comes back, a couple of shot glasses, spirit, and a drink for me. He puts everything down on the table, and Sam is quick to sit up and start pouring the alcohol. I give a smile and thank him when he hands me the glass. Fingers brushing slightly against each other as I grab it. The small contact colours my cheeks, and I turn away in embarrassment, afraid that he’ll see.

“Drink up!” Sam shouts, handing everyone a small glass each. There are still two on the table, and give a look.

“The last ones?”

“Just drink”

We all clink glasses before gulping down the liquid quickly. Gosh, how horrid this night was about to be. The nasty aftertaste lingering in my throat. I grimage, unable to stop myself. I look up to Sam, who does the exact same thing. Josh is unphased, having drunk so much that he can’t feel the flavor anymore.

“And two more!” Sam urges again, filling the glasses and placing one to her lips and giving me the other. Just for the girls I guess.

“You’re going to be the death of me”

“I plan to”

The guys cheer as we drink down the liquid, letting it down our throats and further. A wave of nausea hits me, making me reach for the drink Chris brought and taking small sips. The drink tastes good, too good. I could drink this for breakfast.

“What is this?” I ask, turning around to face him.

“Orange juice and some other stuff”

“I can’t taste the booze”

“That means it’s working”

I take another sip, trying to feel the taste, but still can locate the strong contents.

“Fucking hell I’m going to throw up” Sam exclaims, pushing past Josh and running to the bathroom. All of us laugh, seeing her try to climb the stairs while holding herself. Poor girl.

“So” Josh starts, looking over at us again.

“When are you going to sleep with Mike?” I choke on the drink, starting to cough. Chris places his hand on my back, giving small pats to help me. I compose myself, looking up at a smirking Josh. Chris opens his mouth before I can.

“What kind of question is that?”

“Didn’t ask you Cochie”

I look back and forth between the two, Chris being tensed up, his hand still on my back. I try not to think about it, how his fingers grace over the hem of my bra.

“I agree with him, why would you ask that?”

Josh leans forward, his smirk still going strong.

“Nah, the man just gave me a vibe when he looked at you. How could you say no?” I shake my head in response, he knows who I like, why would he bring this nonsense up? Unless he's trying to unleash something, trying to make me confess on my own. What a sly move.

“Not only is he dating one of my friends, but he’s also not my type”

“Okay, then what is your type?”

“As if I’m gonna tell you”

“Oh, come on”

“Fine” I sigh, laying back on the couch. “Someone kind”

“Everyone can be kind”

“Well, I’m not fucking done am I? And we already know that you’re not on the list Josh”

Chris laughs, giving his buddy a nudge. God, what else am I going to say?

“Someone smart and caring, someone big, like body-wise, right?”

“Right”

“Um, I don’t know, someone funny who I can easily get along with. And can fuck me senseless of course”

Both of their eyes widen at my statement, surprised by how forward I can be.

“What? If we’re talking about a romantic partner, can’t I have sexual criterias?”

Josh laughs, shaking his head. Chris’s hand is still on my back, more tense than before. I hope I didn’t scare him away.

“Maybe Sam needs help in the bathroom” I stand up, taking the drink with me.

“Watch out, she might fuck you senseless” Josh shouts after me. I give a sarcastic laughter in reply, showing him the finger. God, what a long night this was gonna be.

***

I walk over to Beth, slightly struggling to keep myself up as I do. I sway from side to side, gripping chairs and the counter to stop myself from falling.

“Hey, too much for you?” Hannah laughs, hands coming around me. I lean on her, letting her take me to the kitchen counter and sitting me up.

“Never enough”

“When are you gonna stop drinking?”

I take up my cup, filled with whatever the other guys mixed. “Not until dawn”

Beth comes just as I gulp down the liquid, giving Hannah a side stare as she notices me.

“If you survive until then”

I give a snicker in reply. This wasn’t bad, and with Chris being passed out, I didn’t need to be careful. Before, I was terrified of getting drunk in front of him, scared that I’d say something I didn’t mean, but not now. I could lose control, and no matter what I said about him, he didn’t hear it.

“When was the last time you drank this much?” Hannah asks, hand coming to steady me yet again.

“That’s a good question, I don’t know”

“At least we get a good show” Beth comments, giving me a tap on my back. I smile in response, looking back to the living room. Jess and Emily are fidgeting with Chris, I don’t know what they’re doing. I try to make out what they’re holding, but my blurry vision fails me.

I’m blasted, I know that. Everything spins as I move my head, dizziness and heavy heartbeats overtaking me.

“You good?” Beth asks, suddenly worried. I try to form words as I feel something acidic in the back of my throat.

“Shit”

She runs over, grabbing hold of me and running through the bathroom. We make it to the hallway when I black out.

***

My body is slumped upon the bathroom floor. The cold and hard tiles make contact with my back and head. I try to open my eyes, groaning from the raging headache taking over. How long have I been here? Where’s Beth? A large shadowy figure is in the corner of my vision. “Chris?”

“Yeah, still alive” he answers, sitting against the wall. He gives a cheeky smile, looking me up and down. His face is full of scribbles and writing all over his face. He isn’t wearing his glasses, instead drawn on ones and a red heart. I smile at him, trying to hold my laugh.

“I’ve already seen it, you can laugh”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about” I giggle, unable to stop. He rolls his eyes, holding out a hand for me.

“I don’t think I should sit up”

“I think you should drink some water”

He helps me up, my back supported by the bathtub. He hands me a glass, and I grab it with both hands. He doesn’t let go, instead helping me pull it up to my face and letting me drink. The cold liquid makes it in my mouth, washing away the awful lingering taste which was there before. I signal for him to pull the glass away.

“Where’s Beth? What happened?”

He smiles, eyebrows rising as if surprised by my question. “You don’t remember what happened?”

“And why are you awake? You were passed out”

He only laughs in response, putting the glass up to my lips again. I drink up, and he puts it down beside the sink. His body falls down beside me, sitting and letting me lean on him.

“Beth helped you throw up”

“Oh no”

“And I woke up”

“Oh no”

“Oh yes”

I look up at him, my pleading eyes making contact with his orbs.

“Please tell me you didn’t see anything”

“I saw too much”

“Nooooo” I whine, burying my face in his big shoulder. I feel my cheeks heat up from embarrassment.

“Beth left like, five minutes ago to check on the others”

“So she left me on the floor, ready to choke on my own puke?”

“Hey, I’m here, I’ll make sure you don’t die”

“Oh? The big, brave, handsome Christopher will make sure I lean over the toilet it I must”

“Handsome huh?”

I hit him in the arm, not feeling how hard. Judging by his laughter, it wasn’t that hard.

“If it helps, she brushed your teeth before she went”

My tongue automatically feel around my mouth, maybe that was the slight taste of mint. I hum in response, head fully relaxing on him. His arm goes around my back, holding me tight. Maybe to stop me from falling? I don’t know, I just know that I like being in his embrace, benign close to him.

“Why aren’t you sick?”

“You know I never get hungover”

“Lucky”

“But I do pass out. If I didn’t then this wouldn’t be on my face” he points a finger to the scribbles and I laugh. I can’t help it, this warm and cozy feeling overcoming me. He’s kind, funny and smart. With or without his glasses he was handsome. And he’s much more attractive than he gives himself credit for. I’ve seen his arms, and I’ve seen him in tight shirts before. That thought alone gets me going.

“Want to wash it off?”

“Tried already”

“I’ve got some makeup remover in my bag”

I stand up, surprised when I don’t immediately fall down again. I look at him, and his arms are lifted around me, ready in case I fall.

“I’m fine”

“Just making sure”

I see my bag on the counter, and of course my toothbrush is on the top of it. She’s too kind. I must remember to thank her in the morning. I grab a couple of pads, drenching them in the liquid before making my way over to him. I sit myself on his lap, grabbing hold of his chin to move his face.

There’s a slight blush on his face, his mouth is slightly ajar and eyes blank. He grabs my thighs with both hands, letting me sink completely down on him. I start rubbing, first slowly, but it ends up rougher and rougher to get all the ink off.

“You’re gonna rip my skin off”

“Almost done”

I take the last line, and his face looks good as new. A little red maybe, but that’ll fade. I hold his cheeks with both hands, staring deeply into his eyes. He does the same, breathing heavily and looking down on my lips. I don’t know if it is the alcohol, the intimacy or just the surroundings of the cabin, but I lean in, carefully connecting his lips with mine. He responds, opening his mouth and letting me go deeper. He tastes like alcohol, but I’m not bothered by it. One of his hands goes to the back of my head, gripping my hair and pulling me closer. My arms go around his neck, fingers messing up his hair. The kiss gets wetter and sloppier as we keep going, breathing uneven and difficult. We both pull back, surprised by the encounter.

His cheeks are red, hair messy and eyes lustful. He looks magnificent, and I want to do something more about it. He looks me up and down, hand gracing my thigh up to my waist. He doesn’t know what to do now, and honestly, I don’t either.

“Maybe we should stop” he finally says. My heart falls, but I just nod in response. I take a deep breath, standing up, getting off him. Shit. I pushed the boundaries too hard. He didn’t want this, he was caught up in the moment and so was I.

“Um, yeah”

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that-” he starts, but is interrupted by a loud yell.

“Hannah!”

The yell roars through the night, like it’s being screamed outside. We take a look at each other before running through the hall and down the stairs. He’s right on my heels as I occasionally skip one or two steps. What’s going on? We arrive at the entrance of the lodge, everyone standing outside without their jackets.

“You know, I think you’re the last person she wants to see right now, Mike”

“What’s going on?” I ask, looking around confused. Everyone but Hannah and Beth are here.

“It was just a small prank, got a little out of hand” Mike replies. I still don’t get it, what prank?

“Where’s Hannah and Beth?”

“Hannah overreacted, just ran out into the forest, Beth ran after her” Emily comments dismissively. She walks inside again, pulling Mike with her.

“There’s a fucking storm outside!” I yell. Both of them can be in danger, and you could barely see a few meters in front of you because of the snow. I grab Sam’s arm hard, pulling her into me.

“Try to wake Josh, let’s just make sure they get back okay” I state, and she gives a nod, walking inside again. I look over at Matt and Ashley, both of their faces covered with guilt. I don’t need to talk to them right now. I turn on my heels and start running down the snowy trail.

“Wait!” I hear Chris yell after me, but I don’t wait. The faster we find them, the better. No one should be out in this weather alone. I run down the path in the freezing cold. I should’ve taken my jacket, but there's nothing to do about it now. The occasional animal sounds scare me, especially in the dark. The path has lights, but they’re far apart. I jog just to keep my warmth, arms going around myself for that extra bit of comfort. I look down, noticing some fresh foot marks. They must’ve gone this way. The snow is still heavy, and the footprints are getting less and less visible as I continue. Out of all the days to pull this prank, it had to be today? I jump over a couple of fallen branches, almost slipping on the snow-covered ice when I land. I take a right, hoping to find them around the corner.

“Hannah! Beth!”

I’m met with a flock of deer, some of them running away as they notice me. Shit. I put my hands up, carefully walking backwards to avoid agitating them. A loud inhumane scream is heard throughout the forest, making me stop in my tracks. What the hell. I keep walking slowly backwards, each step taken carefully. Please don’t let a bear come out. Maybe Hannah and Beth are already back at the lodge. I decide to think positively, and take one last step backwards before turning.

My chest immediately hits a large figure in front of me, and instinctively I scream. Chris’s hand goes over my mouth, muffling my yells.

“Shh, stop, it’s me”

I calm down, my heart raising so much I feel it in my throat. I feel tears threatening to fall in the corners of my eyes. I need to get a hold of myself.

“Have the others come back?”

“I don’t know, I came to get you first”

“They could still be out there”

His hand goes to my arms, feeling my cold skin. When he does, I realise how warm he is, or maybe how numb I am.

“Shit, you’re freezing”

“Chris, what if something happened?” He takes off his jacket and puts it on me, forcing my arms inside the soft sleeves. He’s still wearing a thick sweater underneath, not being too cold.

“They’ve basically grown up here, they’re probably back at the lodge right now”

I nod. That makes sense. They know these woods like they know their backyard, but why haven’t I heard them? And what was that horrid scream?

“Have you woken Josh?”

“I don’t know, come on, let’s get you back”

I look behind as we walk, the previous footsteps now being invisible to the eye.

Taglist:

@b3rryb3t @porcelainbluedove @z0mb1epuzzy @l0relaii

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spnjediavenger · 5 months ago

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I Need My Brother (Chapter 1)

Title: I Need My Brother (Chapter 1)

Type: multi-chapter; matt murdock x sister!reader, some foggy and karen x teen!reader (platonic!)

Warnings: Matt unintentionally being a jerk brother, sibling argument, some angst, hurt no comfort (yet)

Spoilers: S1 SPOILERS

Notes: hey look, another fic that was meant to be a one-shot that turned into 4+ chapters. Oops

As always, love and/or constructive/friendly criticism is welcome and encouraged!

Word count: 1506

Y/n Murdock had a decent life. She would admit that. She was in a good school, she had good friends, and she had family through Nelson & Murdock. Her brother, Matt, always did his best to look after her. She never knew her father but she had Matt next to her as they both grew up at the orphanage. And as soon as he was legally able, Matt took custody of her, knowing she wouldn’t be happy without him. Granted, going through college with an 8 year old wasn’t entirely smart. Or easy. But he did it.

So Y/n was thankful for these things.

That began to slowly change, however, when the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was born. Y/n and Matt knew each other better than they knew themselves so it didn’t take Y/n long to figure out his ‘secret.’ Needless to say she wasn’t happy about it. But she learned to live with it. There were still times, though, where it got hard. Y/n felt like her brother was spending more and more time away from her and she was beginning to miss how things used to be.

After doing some tracking down, Y/n found Claire and the two formed a bond over the stresses of knowing her brother and his secret life. She lately found herself at the hospital during Claire’s breaks or her apartment after shifts unwinding with her and venting about Matthew’s absence. Like today.

“I mean, I get that what he does is important, and I’m proud of him - I really am. But…”

“But you miss him,” Claire finished, tone understanding. She pursed her lips as the girl nodded sadly, looking down at her mug of hot chocolate. “It’s ok to think that way, Y/n. Your feelings are valid. Why don’t you talk to him about it?”

Y/n shook her head. “He has enough going on. He has his p-“ she stopped herself. While Claire knew about the vigilante side of her brother, she didn't know his true identity. And as Matt told her several times - the less she knew about him the better. “He has his day job that’s gotten busier, he has his vigilante thing that’s also gotten busier. I don’t want to waste his time.”

Claire frowned and furrowed her brow. “But he’s your brother. And your legal guardian. If he makes time for anything, Y/n, it should be you.”

Y/n sighed. “I know,” she said meekly. “And I do have this mindset that I should be his priority…”

“But?”

“But I still can’t get myself to bother him.”

Sensing it was a lost cause, Claire just pursed her lips and rubbed Y/n’s shoulder. All she could do was encourage her to talk to Matt (or, ‘Mike’ in Claire’s case) and be there for her if and when she needed to talk.

A couple weeks later, Y/n was at her breaking point. She had barely seen her brother for days it seemed. She couldn’t get herself to approach him and be upfront about the issue; but she had an idea to get his attention. Leave it to a teenager to make things more difficult than they needed to be.

Y/n smirked to herself as she walked up to Nelson & Murdock, tossing a bouncy ball off the ground. She had been trying to get Matt’s attention the whole week with no luck. But she was sure this would get him.

“Uh oh, I know that look,” Foggy’s voice came as Y/n walked through the doorway. “You better not be spiking my food again, gremlin.”

“Ok, first of all, don’t say ‘spiking!’ I didn’t drug you!” Y/n defended herself.

“You may as well have,” Foggy muttered.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “It was just hot sauce, you wimp. And, no - I’m not here to mess with you.”

“But you’re here to mess with someone else,” he accused, pointing a finger at her.

“Shut up!” She whisper-yelled.

“Matt’s not here, relax…is that who you’re messing with?!”

“Foggy!”

“Ok ok whatever. I’m leaving soon anyway.”

“Don’t give me away. Matt knows things, ok?”

Foggy rolled his eyes and messed up her hair as he walked past her, making her swat his hand away.

Y/n kept bouncing her rubber ball as she entered her brother’s office. She brought her backpack over her shoulder to pull out a whoopie cushion. She moved the seat cover on Matt’s chair and placed the partly filled cushion underneath before replacing the cloth. She walked back out to the ‘lobby’ of the firm and sat on Karen’s desk, smirk on her face. The unpaid secretary looked at her with a knowing look.

“I have a feeling we’ll know when it happens?”

Y/n nodded proudly.

About 30 minutes later, Y/n could hear Matt’s walking stick tapping in the hallway. She stayed on Karen’s desk, still bouncing the rubber ball off the ground as her brother came in.

“Welcome back,” Karen greeted nonchalantly.

“Thank you,” he nodded plainly. “Y/n,” he addressed his sister. “How come you’re not at the apartment?”

“It’s my usual day to see Foggy and Karen,” she commented, a little deflated. That part she kept true - she did visit the firm every friday. Was Matt really that out of the loop that he forgot her routine?

“Ok. Well, I have a couple things to finish up at my desk then we’ll walk back together, ok?”

“Alright,” she shrugged dejectedly.

Rubber. Constant bouncing off the ground. Normal heart rate. Matt quirked a brow but made his way to his office.

As part of her plan, it distracted him enough to ignore his seat; the smell of the rubber also made it so the rubber from the whoopie cushion was also overlooked by the vigilante.

Y/n’s face split into a grin as she saw her brother’s shadow bend down towards the chair. Her hand flew to her mouth so she didn’t laugh prematurely as her brother sat and a loud fart sound rang through the office. Foggy and Karen both let out sudden laughs and Y/n let her own laugh loose, a rare snort coming out as well.

Matt sat in shock for a moment before staring towards his door, jaw dropped. Ears burning, he called out, “Y/n…” warning in his tone.

Foggy and Karen looked at said girl, amused looks on their faces. She mirrored their looks and hopped off Karen’s desk and popped her head into Matt’s doorway.

“Yes, dear brother?” she said innocently.

“Shut the door,” he said, a little too seriously for Y/n’s liking.

She gave a nervous glance at the other two, who shared her expression, before steeling her face and stepped into Matt’s office, closing the door behind her.

“Feeling gassy today, Matty?” she joked.

“Y/n, it’s not funny,” he said, looking her way.

“Oh, come on, Matt-“

“Y/n, just stop. You’ve been pulling these immature pranks all week and it has to stop. And to bring it to the office? What if a client had walked in?”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause you get a lot of those, do you?”

“That’s not the point! You know how hard Fog and I have been working to try and get this place off the ground! I can’t have a teenager running amok and pulling this stuff because the last thing I need is for someone to walk in and for their first impression to be that we don’t take things seriously! Is it too much to ask for you to act your age for once?!”

Y/n’s jaw dropped about halfway through Matt’s rant, tears collecting on her waterlines. Matt never snapped at her before. She was just trying to get him to lighten up. Not turn him against her.

She set her jaw and hardened her gaze. She went from shock, to sadness, to anger. “You know what, Matt? No. It’s not too much to ask. Because I forgot that this whole world revolves around you, how foolish of me to forget! God forbid you have to think about anyone but yourself for once! It’s not like you have an underage sister who still depends on you metaphorically and legally or anything.”

Salt in the air. Almost non-existent sniffles. Watery voice. She was crying.

“...Y/n-”

“Forget it, Matt,” she said, voice cracking. “I’ll see you later. Don’t let your big ego get caught in the doorway when you leave.” At that, Y/n spun on her heel and stormed out, tears streaking down her face.

“Y/n. Y/n!” Matt tried calling in vain. “It’s dark! You don’t walk back alone!”

“I got her,” Foggy said. He turned to leave but twisted to look at Matt one more time. “And you know something? Everyone’s entitled to act stupid every once and awhile, but I think you just abused that privilege.”

As Foggy ran out to catch up to Y/n, Matt hung his head in shame.

(Chapter 2) ->

#fanfic #fanfiction #daredevil #matthew murdock #foggy nelson #karon page #daredevil x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x sister!reader #daredevil x sister!reader

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dayasfilms · 1 month ago

Text

Chapter One - The In Between

Summary: It’s your senior year, so it was the time to submit your college applications. You still don’t know if you should take the next step with Steve. You also couldn’t help but worry about Barbara’s parents selling their house when you go to their house for dinner with Nancy.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N. Mentions of death.

Word Count: 3.7k

Note: Season two has begun! Not too much happens in this chapter since it’s the beginning.

Series Masterlist

ㅤ♡ ㅤ♡ ㅤ♡

The night sky stretched above you, scattered with stars through the darkness. The roads were mostly quiet, save for the occasional headlights flickering past. As you turned into the familiar parking lot, the neon glow of the Arcade sign came into view. You pulled into a spot, turned off your car, and stepped out, making your way inside. The glow of screens and music surrounded you before you spotted Mike, Lucas, Dustin, and Will, huddled around their favorite machines.

You leaned against one of the machines, arms crossed as you watched them play. “God, you guys are such nerds,” you called out, your voice loud enough to rise over the music.

Dustin spun around, squinting at you. “And you’re what? You think you’re so cool?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah. I’m literally the coolest person any of you know. I just hide it behind my straight A’s.”

Mike didn’t even look away from the game as he shot back. “Please, you’re a bigger nerd than all of us combined. You read a science textbook for fun.”

“Yeah, because I helped you finish your stupid science project,” you said, rolling your eyes.

Lucas laughed. “Nerd!”

You flicked Lucas’ head. “I didn’t say being a nerd is a bad thing. I love being a nerd.” You looked at Mike. “Plus, Wheeler said it himself. I’m smarter than all of you combined.”

“I said you’re a bigger nerd than all of us combined.”

“That’s literally the same thing, Mike,” you snickered.

Will laughed softly beside you, nudging your arm. “They won’t admit it, but they missed you.”

Dustin threw his hands in the air. “Did not!”

“I did,” Will said with a small smile.

You glanced down at Will, ruffling his hair. “You’re the only one here with manners, unlike these losers.”

Mike crossed his arms. “You know, for someone who calls us losers all the time, you hang around us an awful lot.”

“I only ever hang around you guys when I’m with Jonathan or Nancy,” you corrected. “I have no interest in being around any of you.” You looked down at Will. “Well, maybe except Will.”

“Yeah, sureee,” Lucas dragged.

You pushed off the machine and motioned to Will. “Come on, Will. Time to get you home before your mom gets worried.”

As you walked off with Will, you heard Dustin mutter. “Why do I like her?”

“Because you’re delusional,” Mike replied.

“Because she’s hot and smart,” Lucas added.

“Exactly,” Dustin said dreamily, then blinked. “Wait…what?”

As you opened the door, you caught a glimpse of a guy from your school, Keith, staring at you while loudly munching on a bag of chips. You grimaced and quickly looked away, stepping outside before he had the chance to say anything.

You and Will climbed into your car and you turned on the radio. Backing out of the parking lot, you glanced at Will from the corner of your eye. “So, did you have fun tonight?”

Will nodded eagerly. “Yeah, I did.”

“I’m glad,” you said, flashing him a smile as you turned onto the road. “Did anything interesting happen?”

“Yeah! Someone named Mad Max beat our high score on Dig Dug,” he said, sitting up straighter in his seat. “It was over seven hundred thousand points!”

“Woah, that sounds super high!” You responded, genuinely impressed, even if you didn’t know much about video games.

“It is. We tried to find out who Mad Max was, but Keith…you know Keith, right? He goes to your school?” He asked, glancing at you.

You hummed, raising an eyebrow. “Unfortunately, I do.”

“Well, he said he’d tell us who it was…if we got him a date with you.”

Your jaw dropped. You blinked and quickly recovered, letting out a startled laugh. “Oh, uh…seriously?”

Will nodded. “Yeah. We told him no, of course. No way were we going to hand you over to some guy like that.”

You burst out laughing and reached over to affectionately pinch his cheek. “I knew I could count on you guys.” He grinned proudly, and you let the silence settle for a moment before glancing over again. “Anything else happen?”

Will went quiet. You noticed the way he stared out the window, his expression distant.

“Will?” You said softly.

He blinked and turned to you. “Huh? Oh, no. Nothing else.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking back out the window.

You didn’t want to push him. If it was important, you trusted he would tell you eventually. If not you, he would tell his mom or brother. Still, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in his head.

Soon, you pulled up to the Byers’ house. The porch light was on, a warm glow spilling over the driveway.

“Tell your mom and Jonathan I said hi, okay?” You said as Will unbuckled his seatbelt.

He nodded, giving you a small wave. You watched him until he disappeared inside safely, then turned your attention back to the road.

A loud honk echoed from outside, prompting you to grab your bag and rush toward the door. “Bye, mom! I’ll see you later!” You shouted over your shoulder.

Yasmin appeared at the top of the stairs, zipping up her jacket. “Bye, sweetie! Stay safe and make sure Steve isn’t speeding this time!”

You rolled your eyes with a grin and shut the door behind you, locking it before jogging to Steve’s car and getting into the passenger seat.

“Hi,” you said, a little breathless as you settled in.

Steve leaned over the console, giving you a quick kiss. “Morning, honey.” He watched you toss your bag into the backseat, then pulled down the sun visor to check yourself in the mirror. “How’s my girl doing this morning?”

You felt warmth flooding your face at the name. You smoothed a hand over your hair. “Tired. I had to finish my English paper after picking up Will last night. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit my pillow.”

He chuckled, pulling out of your driveway. “I already know that you wrote the best damn paper in that class.”

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I’m hoping it wasn’t too bad but I feel like it was a little rushed.”

He rolled his eyes and took one hand off the steering wheel to gently squeeze your thigh. “You worry too much.”

You glanced at him with a soft smile and laced your fingers with his, holding it there as he continued driving to school.

It had been almost a year since you and Steve started whatever this was. You weren’t officially back together. You told him you weren’t ready to take that step, not yet. Still, he remained by your side, affectionate as ever. He’d kiss you in the hallways, carry your backpack, and wait for you after class. People asked all the time if you two were dating again. But you never said anything.

Whenever Steve gently brought it up, you would dodge the conversation. You changed the subject, made a joke. And Steve never pressed further. He hoped you would tell him when you were ready.

As Steve pulled into the school parking lot, you both sat in silence before he shifted the car into park.

“Hey,” you said, turning toward him. “Didn’t you say you finished writing your college essay? Did you do it?”

Steve hesitated, then reached into the backseat and pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper from his bag. “Uh, yeah. Can you read it? Just tell me if it sucks.”

You took the paper from him and leaned back in your seat, scanning the handwritten pages. Steve watched you closely, trying to read your face as your eyes moved across the lines.

You didn’t say anything right away, trying to think of the nicest way to put it.

Steve let out a sigh. “It’s crap, I know.”

You looked at him sharply. “No, it’s not crap, Steve.”

“It’s not good.”

“It’s going to be.” You grabbed a pen from your bag. “Can I mark it up?”

Steve shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

You circled a few phrases, tapping one part. “Okay, so you used the basketball game against Northern as a metaphor for your life, which is actually clever.”

Steve looked surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you said, giving him a small smile. “But then here…” you pointed to the middle of the page. “You start talking about your granddad’s experiences in the war. I don’t really see how it connects.”

He shrugged, trying to explain. “It connects because…” He realized it made a lot more sense in his head. “Because, you know, we both won.”

You blinked, head turning away from him back to the essay in your hands.

“Do you think I should start from scratch?” He asked, voice tight with worry.

You hesitated. “Don’t start over…just refocus it. When’s the deadline?”

“It’s tomorrow for early application,” he answered. “Can you come and help me tonight?”

You winced. “I have my dinner tonight with Nancy and Barbara’s parents, remember? We had to reschedule from last week.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly.

He didn’t say anything at first, just stared through the windshield.

“Okay, look,” you offered. “Work on this tonight, okay? I’ll look at it again tomorrow.”

Steve didn’t respond.

“Steve.”

He finally looked at you. “What’s the point? I’m just gonna end up working for my dad, anyway.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I don’t know,” he said, saying your name. “Is that such a bad thing? There’s insurance and benefits and all that adult stuff.”

You frowned. You knew how strained things were between Steve and his dad. The idea of him settling for that life, not by choice, made your heart ache.

“And hey,” he said, voice softening. “If I stay here…I’d be close when you go off to college in the city. Someone’s gotta keep an eye on you.”

You pressed your lips together. “Steve…”

He smiled. “Just to make sure you don’t forget about this pretty face.”

You laughed under your breath but quickly sobered. “What if I move out of state?”

He paused, then smiled again. “We’ll figure it out.”

You looked at him for a long moment before he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand cupping your cheek.

“I love you,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours.

You didn’t say anything back, instead closing the gap. He gently kissed you, soft and warm, like he meant every second of it.

A loud engine revved in the distance, cutting through the quiet buzz of the parking lot. You and Steve turned your heads just as a blue Camaro came roaring in, the tires screeching a little as it made a dramatic turn before pulling into a space.

Both of you stepped out of the car, eyes locked on the scene.

A guy about your age climbed out of the driver’s seat. From the passenger side, a much younger girl with red hair hopped out, grabbing her skateboard, and pushed off toward the middle school.

“Is he new?” You asked, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

Steve shrugged, shutting the door behind him. “I think so. Never seen him before.”

The two of you started walking toward the school entrance. Steve kept glancing back, clearly sizing the guy up.

Just then, Tina’s voice rang out from across the lot. “Would you check out that ass?”

You turned to see her standing with Carol and Vicki, all three of them openly staring at the new guy like he was some kind of movie star.

You made a face. “Gross.”

You looked at Steve, who had the exact same unimpressed look on his face. The moment your eyes met, you both cracked up, laughter spilling out as you walked.

You waved at Jonathan in the hallway, his classroom directly in front of yours as the two of you walked out. The two of you walked side by side to your locker, where you put your math textbook back.

“How was bio?” You asked, balancing your books on one arm.

Jonathan shrugged, adjusting the strap of his bag. “We had a sub. She made us watch this weird documentary. Half the class fell asleep.”

You smiled. “Jealous. Mr. Davis just gave us thirty questions on logarithms. I think my brain is still smoking.”

Jonathan let out a quiet laugh. “Sounds like hell.”

“Eh, I love math. It was still exhausting though.” You swapped out your books before you looked at him with a smirk. “So, how’s Nancy?”

Jonathan looked over, brows slightly raised. “Good? Why?”

After Steve and Nancy broke up, you and Nancy began to hang out more, building a closer friendship. Sometimes, Nancy would hang out with you and Jonathan. The two weren’t as close, but they shared quiet moments here and there. Occasionally, the three of you and Steve hung out together. The tension was never awkward between Steve and Nancy, so Nancy didn’t mind your relationship with him.

Still, you could always sense a different kind of tension between Nancy and Jonathan. The kind people pretend isn’t there but it so obviously is. You weren’t sure why it was taking them so long to admit it.

“No reason. Just curious.” You nudged him with your elbow, before closing your locker. “How’s Will?”

He shrugged. “He’s…okay. Thanks for dropping him off last night.”

You waved a hand. “Of course, no need to thank me.”

“Still though,” he said, before turning the conversation. “How’s Steve?”

You looked ahead, falling into step with him again. “He’s good. Just stressed about college, I guess.”

Jonathan nodded slowly. “I keep forgetting it’s your last year of high school. Can’t believe you’re going to be gone next year.”

“I know,” you sighed, a quiet ache settling in your chest. You didn’t want to think about leaving Jonathan behind.

“Are you two officially together yet?” Jonathan asked, glancing sideways at you.

“Um,” you hesitated. “No.”

He furrowed his brows. “Why don’t you just tell him?”

You shrugged. “Whenever I think about it, it just…seems like a stupid reason to get mad over, you know?”

Jonathan gave you a puzzled look. “Then why don’t you want to take the next step if it’s something so stupid?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out. That caught you off guard.

Before you could think of anything to say, the warning bell rang overhead, followed by the usual rush of footsteps and voices flooding the hallway.

“See you later?” You said, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

He nodded, watching you walk away. “Yeah, later.”

“Hey,” Tina called your name, shoving a flyer into your hand as you passed her in the hallway. “Be there.”

You gave her a tight-lipped smile, before it dropped as soon as you turned the corner. You glanced down at the orange paper inviting you to Tina’s Halloween party and barely noticed the figure leaning casually against your locker.

Two arms suddenly wrapped around your waist and spun you in a circle. You let out a startled shriek. “Steve!”

He set you down with a grin, and you turned to face him, still catching your breath. “I missed you,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

You raised an eyebrow when you spotted the sunglasses on his face. “Take those stupid things off.”

“Why? You don’t like it?” His lovesick grin was impossible to ignore, his hands still resting lightly on your waist.

You laughed, shaking your head as you opened your locker and stuffed your textbooks inside. “It’s a little goofy.”

Before you could say anything else, he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin as he leaned in. His lips met yours softly at first, but the moment you leaned into him, he deepened the kiss, tilting his head slightly to the side.

His fingers slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, holding you close like he didn’t want to let go. The kiss made your thoughts melt away, until you remembered where you were and pushed him away. His forehead rested against yours, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.

“I really missed you,” he murmured.

You rolled your eyes with a small grin. “I saw you an hour ago.”

“Yeah, an hour too long.”

You sighed, a playful smile tugging at your lips, before showing him the orange flyer. “Tina gave me this.”

He glanced at it. “She gave me one too. You want to go?”

You shrugged. Parties were never really your thing, but since this was your senior year, you wanted to make the most out of it. “I mean, I don’t see why not?”

“Are you sure?” He asked genuinely. “I know you never really go to these parties.”

You laughed. “Yeah. We can show off our matching costumes we planned out a month ago.”

His eyes lit up, his lips curving into a grin as he leaned in again, brushing his nose against yours. “Okay, honey, sounds good to me.”

You bit your bottom lip to hide the smile creeping up, then stepped back as you shut your locker.

You pulled up into the Wheeler’s driveway, beeping the horn lightly as you waited for Nancy to come out. After a moment, she appeared, stepping out of her house and shutting the door behind her before walking to the passenger side of your car.

“Hey,” she greeted, smiling as she slid into the seat

“Hi, Nance,” you replied, returning the smile before backing out of the driveway.

The drive was quiet, but comfortable. The two of you had grown closer over the past year. You would even go as far as to say she was one of your best friends.

Barbara’s parents invited Nancy to dinner, but knowing how hard it might be for her to go alone, she’d asked you to join her. You knew how much Barbara’s loss weighed on Nancy, the guilt still there whenever her best friend’s name came up. It was hard to watch her struggle with it, especially since she blamed herself for what happened.

The car rolled to a stop in front of the Holland’s house, now glaring with a ‘For Sale’ sign in the front yard. You both stepped out of the car, making your way up the driveway. Both you and Nancy paused, glancing at the sign, then at each other. Nancy’s lips pressed together tightly, her eyes momentarily clouded with sadness before she quickly masked it.

As you reached the front door, you and Nancy stood quietly.

“Ready?” You asked softly.

The girl nodded her head. “Yeah.”

You pressed the doorbell, and moments later, Mrs. Holland opened the door with a warm smile, immediately pulling you both into a gentle hug.

After a few polite exchanges and questions about how everyone had been doing, the three of you walked to the dining room. Mr. Holland was already seated at the table, and he stood briefly to greet you both. “Girls, good to see you. Sit down, please.”

You and Nancy took your seats across from the couple. Spread across the table was a familiar assortment of food in KFC boxes.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get to cook,” Mrs. Holland said, clearly flustered. “I was gonna make that baked ziti you guys like so much, but I just forgot about the time, and before you know it, ‘Oh, my God, it’s five o’clock.’”

Nancy offered a small smile, barely touching her food. “It’s fine. It’s great.”

You nodded reassuringly. “Please don’t worry about it, Mrs. Holland. This is more than enough.”

She smiled at you both and began to eat.

After a moment, Nancy glanced your way, then looked back at the couple. “So, I noticed a ‘For Sale’ sign out in your yard. Is that the neighbors’, or…”

Mrs. Holland looked at her husband with a small smile. “You wanna tell them?”

He gestured towards her. “Go ahead.”

She turned back to you and Nancy. “We hired a man named Murray Bauman. Have either of you heard of him?”

You and Nancy exchanged puzzled glances, both shaking your heads. “No,” you said.

“He was an investigative journalist for the Chicago Sun-Times,” Mrs. Holland explained.

“He’s pretty well known,” Mr. Holland said, handing you the guy’s business card. You read the name and number as Nancy leaned in beside you to get a look.

Mrs. Holland continued, her voice more hopeful than you’d heard in a long time. “Anyway, he’s freelance now, and he agreed to take the case.”

You looked up from the card, lips parting. “That’s…Wow, um, that’s…” you paused. “What do you mean?”

Nancy echoed your question. “Yeah, what exactly does that mean?”

Mr. Holland spoke this time, voice tinged with frustration. “Means he’s gonna do what that lazy son of a bitch Jim Hop–” His wife put a hand on his arm. You looked at him, tilting your head at the name he called Hopper. “Sorry. What the Hawkins police haven’t been capable of doing. Means we have a real detective on the case.”

“It means…” Mrs. Holland began, her voice shaky. “We’re going to find our Barb.”

“If anyone can find her, it’s this man,” the man said, a hopeful smile on his face. “He already has leads. By God, he’s worth every last penny.”

You looked down at your plate, your appetite gone. A tight feeling crept up into your chest. You glanced at Nancy, whose face had grown pale, her eyebrows drawn together.

“Is that why you’re selling the house?” She asked quietly.

Mrs. Holland placed her fork down. “Don’t worry about us, sweetie. We’re fine. More than fine. For the first time in a long time, we’re hopeful.”

Nancy blinked quickly, her jaw tightening. She stood up from the table. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

You watched her disappear down the hallway, your heart aching. A strange, sinking feeling stirred in your stomach. Barbara’s parents were going to give up their home, give up everything, all in search of answers they would never truly find.

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z0mb1epuzzy · 3 months ago

Note

MIKE HATE SEX MIKE HATE SEX MIKE HATE SEX PLEASE I BEGGGGGG ON MY HANDS AND KNEES

- @boom-butterflyeffect

.✭.✭.✭.✭. ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ .✭.✭.✭.✭.

`✭ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⭒ Hate Sex with Mike Munroe

HATEFUCKING WITH MIKE IM GONNA IM GONNA NUT EVRRYWHERE

.✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭

✭ Warnings: Hate sex (duh), mike & reader are a lil tipsy, GN! Reader, Hair-pulling, mild choking, idk mouth covering, biting, potentially dubious consent, mike is a dick and i want his, Dom! Mike, Sub! Reader, porn with minimal plot…

song recs if u wanna listen 2 freak music idk

.✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭

kay plot time, porn under the cut 😜

So obviously mike is an egomaniac, albeit a deeply insecure one, but he KNOWS he’s hot.. so imagine him with someone who expresses no direct interest in him, but more than that, someone who actively DISLIKES him?

it’d turn it into a little bit of a game for him, seeing how much work it takes to make you swoon for him like everyone else does, taking little jabs at your ego to disguise the way you’re bruising his..

And, obviously, all of that frustration builds up overtime, the antagonizing turning into a weird sort of sexual tension fueled only by pure annoyance towards each other. He thinks you’re a bitch, you think he’s a douche, and it makes him want to fuck you so stupid you’ll shut the fuck up for once..

sooo… you, him, and just enough alcohol to get rid of those nerves? yeah, yall fucking..

It’s messy and mean. one of his big, brutish fucking hands balled in your hair, tugging the threads enough to sting, one hand over your mouth to shut you up….

his hips pound into yours from behind, the power in his thrusts are almost enough to sting, if not for the way they leave you seeing stars - but god forbid he knows that part.. His breaths are heavy and ragged, low, almost angry groans breaking from his lips punctuating every harsh thrust. His pace is rigid, too, sharp snaps of his hips against yours, intended to reflect that frustration he feels towards you, but it’s nearly impossible for him to deny that it feels fucking fantastic.

It’s not just being inside you that has him on cloud 9, it’s the ego boost, hearing you moan and cry out against his palm every time he fucks you a little deeper, even though his words reflect the opposite, obviously.

He’d practically growl little insults every chance he got, saying some shit like “fuck- You just can’t shut up, can you?” inciting you to bite down on the hand over your mouth, just as the one act of retaliation your liquified brain can come up with in the moment. “Oh, you’re such a fucking- bitch-“ his insults are punctuated with more deep thrusts, and, no matter how vehemently he’d deny it, you may even be able to catch low whines between his moans.

his hands change positions after that, the one over your mouth now around your throat, squeezing just enough to make you a bit fuzzy-headed, the other wrapping around your midsection, just to give him more control as he gets closer and closer to cumming, part of him hopes you will, too, the other part thinks you don’t deserve it.

either way, he relents. He’s nothing if not a gentleman (a thing that even he can’t fully believe, but whatever.) and he finds it in himself to be kind, to be soooo gracious as to make sure you get off too. and oh LORD you do.

and he does not live that shit down literally ever, any time you get smart with him? you’re getting the most SMUG smile from this man. You can’t say shit to him after you came on his dick, sorry diva…

.✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭

🍒：if this is shit oh lord don’t tell me (i am writing this at nearly 6 AM after an all nighter) either way i fear i need to fuck this man sloppily and angrily sorey

💋 Taglist ↳ @boom-butterflyeffect @barkbre @l0relaii @admirationandromantics @spaceycat

.✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭

#🍒#anon ask #until dawn #mike munroe #until dawn hcs #mike munroe x reader #mike until dawn smut #mike munroe smut #mike until dawn #until dawn smut #multifandom writer #smut hcs

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willbyershandmoles · 5 months ago

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people who think will would roll his eyes at mike being nerdy are so wrong. will gets hot and bothered every time mike shows off how smart he is. mike talks about the physics of a video game and then will jumps him and starts sucking him off.

#mhm 🙂‍↕️#spicy byler #my hcs

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truths33k3r4 · 5 months ago

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CHAPTER 11- A Sun, A Moon, and a Misunderstanding

Normally when someone woke up early, they would be warmly greeted by the soft rays of sunshine peeking through the window, or perhaps the cheerful melodies of a bird singing their song…

But for a mutant teenager with tendencies to sleep through alarms, that was not the case.

Mikey jolted upright after getting pelted by Raph’s pillow.

“IF YOU DON’T GET UP, I’M GONNA SMEAR BACON GREASE ALL OVER YOUR PAINTIN’.” Raphael warned in his ‘it’s WAY too early for this’ tone.

Raph was a lot of things: hot-headed, passionate, cool but rude… but a bluffer he was not.

Mikey launched himself off his bunk bed just as Raph began reaching for one of the many slabs of bacon decorating his black and red-rimmed plate. Landing perfectly, the youngest cheerily jogged up to his fiery brother with an impossibly large grin for such an early hour.

“G’morning to you too, Raph.” He sarcastically greeted, despite the stretched yawn cracking his jaw. “Sleep well?”

Raphael turned towards him with a piece of bacon between his fangs and unenthusiastic expression dragging down his face.

“... It wasn’t exactly a peaceful slumber, Mike.” He grumbled before chewing and swallowing the steamy slices of smoked meat.

Oh… right…

“Ooooh yeah…” Mikey hissed through his teeth as he remembered the events of the night before. He rubbed at the slight ache in his neck. “I hope uh… I hope Don’s doing better now…”

Raph’s expression softened. “Yeah… I hope so too, little brother.” He whispered as he reached an arm out and wrapped it around Mikey’s shoulders. Mikey quietly hummed as he leaned further into his big brother’s touch. “I think he’ll be fine. He’s a tough guy. Just needs some time to get over what… happened. Probably wouldn’t hurt to pray for him too, hmm?”

Mikey nodded with a smile beginning to spread across his lips. “Yeah… yeah, I can do that.”

“Good.” Raph grunted as he finished off another slice of bacon, licking the smears of grease off his fingers. “Now get your sorry shell into the kitchen before Sensei has your head.” He spoke sternly, as his grip around Mikey’s shoulders rose to wrap around his neck in a playful gesture that all youngest siblings knew well.

“-GAHK- RAPH! GHH! LET GOOO!” Mikey chuckled and growled as he struggled in his older brother’s grip. The two continued to tussle, and despite the empty plate still in one of his hands, Raph remained the victor. Sure, Mikey was nimble and fast, but compared to Raph’s strength and battle smarts, he didn’t have a chance. It had always been that way. Sometimes, if Mikey got the element of surprise on his side, he would have a better shot at beating his big brother in combat- but unfortunately, it was super difficult to surprise someone who watched you like a hawk. It didn’t take long for Raph to catch on to Mikey’s tactics when they sparred.

Eventually, the grip around the youngest’s neck loosened, silently stating that their tussle was over. Mikey subconsciously rang a wrestling match bell in his head.

DING! DING! DING! Winner once againnnn~ Raphael!

“Alright- we gotta get goin’.” Raph declared in a gravelly tone, still getting over the extra heavy gravity of the early morning. “Thanks to you, now we’re both late.” He began to walk to the doorway, swinging his plate in the air in a “COME ON” motion as he made a brisk exit into the hallway.

Mikey began to follow his big bro to the door, but stopped at the sound of a weak groan emanating from the eldest’s bed.

OOh! Lotus is awake!

“G’morninggggg sleepy shelllllll~” Mikey sang warmly as he strode across the room. Bending over Leo’s- er- Lotus’ mattress, Mikey got a good look at this newcomer to his home. Her skin was a misty shade of jade, speckled with blues and purples all over her wrists, arms, ankles, and neck. Mikey’s smile faltered and fizzled at the sight of the painful bruises etched deep into Lotus’ skin. His attention was then drawn to the intricate markings displayed on her arms and head; A crescent moon adorned the sides of her face, as elegant stars were Masterfully painted onto her arms. As his gaze trailed down, he also noticed small glimpses of markings on her toes and feet too, mirroring the look of a ballet dancer’s shoes.

Beautiful.

Mikey’s gaze zipped back to the head of the bed as a startled gasp harshly broke through the silence of the room. The youngest’s body tensed as he watched Lotus jolt awake and clumsily shuffle to the corner of the nook. Away from him.

OH SHOOT-

He raised his arms submissively in the air, shaking his head. “N-no, no, it’s okay!! You’re safe! I’m… not going to hurt you! Promise!” He tried to make his voice as calm as he could, but he didn’t quite succeed, leaving his words shaky and unsure.

What do I do- what do I do- What do I DO???

Mikey watched as Lotus’ chest rose and fell with strenuous speed, forcing staggered gasps to claw out of her throat. A tinted pane of murky glass seemed to cover her darting irises, revealing to Mikey that she hadn’t quite woken up yet. His hands clenched at his sides as ideas began tumbling through his head in unorganized chaos.

Whaaat do I DO- Is she having a panic attack? Can she breathe? What if she can’t BREATHE?!! LEO HASN’T TAUGHT ME CPR YET-

Leo.

… What would Leo do?

Mikey silently ransacked his brain, searching for the misplaced memories like a toy he had lost one too many times.

Finally, the memory revealed itself to him.

“You want to be gentle but firm.” Mind Leo softly instructed him, “If you speak with too much uncertainty, you’ll most likely scare your patient, or they won’t take you seriously. You need to uphold a sense of authority in the situation. Own it. Your patient will see your confidence, and will hopefully trust that you know what you’re doing.”

… And Leo says I don’t pay attention during his medic lessons~ HA!

Okay. Gentle. Firm. Certain. Confident. GOT IT.

Mikey kept his arms in the air as he slowly knelt down. Lotus’ glazed eyes followed his careful movements, looking a little less murky and a bit more clear.

Gentle.

“It’s okay, Lo. You’re safe. I-I think you just-”

Firm.

“... You had a nightmare. No one is going to hurt you. You’re in the lair, my home. There’s no bad guys here. Just me and my family.” Mikey spoke in his best Leo impression, with the hand gestures and everything. He may not have had the natural confidence needed here, but he sure as heck could fake it by acting like someone who would.

Certain.

“I think you just need to get up and stretch your legs. That always makes me feel better if I had a rough night!” Mikey smiled as bright as he could as he began to slowly stand back up, still keeping his hands in the air. He again watched Lotus’ irises as the dusty clouds of nightmares continued to part, revealing a soft lavender from beneath. Her plastron rose and fell much slower too, making Mikey’s smile grow ever brighter.

It’s working! THANK YOU, MIND LEO!

Mikey edged closer and sat down on the rim of the mattress, holding out his hands. “Is it okay if I take you to go get breakfast? You gotta be starving!”

Lotus let out one last, shaky breath as her body slumped against the wall. She looked him dead in the eyes, almost studying him. It felt weird. Mikey tensed and squirmed under the vibrant hues of purple burning into his face, but despite the discomfort-

Confident.

He kept his eyes locked onto hers. When he didn’t back down, Lotus’ posture tensed again as she dragged her gaze to the sheets below her. At first, Mikey was afraid he scared her again, and with each second that passed, his artificial confidence continued to lessen. For what felt like hours but was probably only a minute, Mikey sat there with his arms outstretched, waiting for Lotus’ answer. He could tell she was thinking by how she bit and chewed on her lip.

Eventually, with a deep, agitated but compliant sigh, Lotus softly nodded her head. That was all Mikey needed before he plucked her into his arms and ran down the hall with her.

“SWEET! Dude, you’re going to love this! Raph makes the best fried egg sandwiches! Uh… that is- if he saved us some- And there’s bacon that I can fry up too, or if you’re a cereal kinda gal I can get my cherished frosted flakes from my hiding spot! When you have sibs you kinda have to hide some stuff if you want any- That’s just how it is with three older bros- Not sure if that’s normal haha- Do you have a favorite kind of cereal?”

Lotus’ response was a small gag making her lurch into his plastron with a *thud*.

“OH CRAP- Are you still sick??” Mikey yelled out as he skidded to a stop in the middle of the hallway, making Lotus twitch and burrow further into his chest. “Oh... was that… too loud?”

Mikey sensed a tense, minimal nod against his plastron.

“Sorryyyyyyyy.” He whispered into her ear, forcing a full-on shiver to rattle her thin body.

… I think I suck at this.

Instead of jammering on again, Mikey did his best to be quiet as he walked to the living room, quickly being greeted by the sight of Leo and Raph doing their Bible reading. The faint aromas of smoky bacon and fried eggs still hung in the air, with a teeny whiff of burnt toast from the toaster.

“Good morning Mik-” Leo began, but halted instantly with an uncomely squeak at the sight of Mikey holding his still recovering patient in his arms. “MICHELANGELO HANTEN HAMATO.”

Raph’s head shot up from his Bible with a surprised expression blooming into one of morbid curiosity.

Oh dang- full name- haha I’m a goner.

“Y-yeahhh?” Mikey weakly replied with a shrug of his shoulders and a plastic smile on his face.

“WHAT are you doing with Lotus? She’s still recovering- she needs to rest-” Leo jarringly ranted as he got up off the floor, closing and tucking away his Bible. His arms were waving like crazy with each fragment of a sentence he got out. “- Are you being careful with her leg? Is she in any pain? WHY IS SHE SO QUIET- …Wait… Why is she so quiet.” Leo’s bellowing voice swiftly shifted to hushed monotone as his gaze fell onto the limp mutant wrapped in Mikey’s arms.

Wait, he's right! When did she go boneless on me???

“Lotus?” Leo whispered as he crept closer, his arms reaching out with gentle care. The girl in Mikey’s arms didn’t react at all. “Lotus, are you alright? Do you feel okay?”

A teeny, tiny, strained groan squeezed past Lotus’ lips. She moved a little, pulling her head slowly from Mikey’s plastron to face Leo. She… did not look so good.

“Dizzzzzyyyy…” She queasily moaned as her body returned to being limp, her chin landing softly into Leo’s ready, open palms.

“GYEE- I’m taking that as a no.” Leo stated briskly as he gestured for Mikey to bring her to the couch. The youngest nodded and complied without hesitation.

Yes- Please take the position of Medic again- I am NOT cut out for this yet... Mikey inwardly groaned to himself as he followed Leo to the couch. Without a word needing to be spoken, Raph shut his Bible and leapt off his cushion, giving Mikey full access as he gently placed Lotus down.

“Let me guess- Mikey talked her ear off and now she’s in a coma.” Raph jokingly taunted.

Oh hahaha so funny.

“I did not!” Mikey squawked in mild defense, placing his hands on his hips. He turned to the oldest who was now kneeling and assessing his patient. “Seriously Leo, I just asked her if she wanted some breakfast! She’s gotta be starving after hurling her guts o-”

Mikey winced as Raph slapped him in the back of the head.

“... After being sick, she’s got nothin’ in her stomach!” He said while rubbing at the now sore spot. “And she nodded when I asked- I didn’t just take off with her!” He continued to defend himself, while also giving his oldest brother the context he needed to figure out a solution. Leo was always good at that.

Guess it’s just an older brother thing. Or maybe a leader thing? Both. Both? Both. Both is good.

Leo puffed air through his teeth as he finished looking at Lotus’ incision. “Mikey- as always you got the right heart behind your actions-” Leo said as he turned to look at the youngest with an understanding smile. “... But I think you jumped the gun a bit.”

Mikey’s face slowly crumbled like a week-old cookie.

Leo’s eyes widened as his hands shot up in a steadying motion.

“W-wait. What I mean is, I think you made her motion sick by carrying her. That kind of movement can be very disorienting, especially to someone who doesn’t walk all that often. You most likely threw her center of gravity off- which is why she’s so dizzy now.”

Mikey’s smile remained hidden behind the opaque wall of guilt that was quickly forming around him.

“You didn’t know!” The eldest continued, attempting to lessen the blow of shame crashing down on the youngest, “But now you do, and… you can be more careful.”

Mikey’s head fell down solemnly.

It’s not even nine AM and I’ve already colossally screwed up.

“Lotus has a long way to go in her recovery. I need to sit and make a plan with Don over what she should try to eat- as well as I need to make sure she’s not allergic to anything...” Leo began to list out, getting lost in the many medical checklists Mikey knew occupied his oldest brother’s head. “... Not to mention I need to get some blood samples to see if there’s anything in her veins left from the lab… Wouldn’t hurt to check on the bruises again and make sure they’re healing properly- and I need to see what Don’s got on that implant we found in her-”

Leo’s sentence was cut off by a frightened whimper.

“Lo?” Mikey said as he and Leo turned to face her in concern. Mikey’s expression fell faster than an avalanche down a mountain, sending a cold chill through his spine as he looked down at Lotus. She was cowering.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Leo spoke tenderly, as he instinctually rushed to comfort her. His voice swiftly shifted from a rushing river of anxiety and plans to a quiet stream of gentleness and concern. His hand rose to land on Lotus’ arm, but hesitated midway. Crystal irises met with frightened purple, most likely asking for silent permission to touch her.

Mikey watched with adoring fascination as his oldest brother once again proved why he was the best pick for Team Medic.

“I know that sounds like a lot, but we’re going to take it one day at a time.” He said as his hand slowly landed onto Lotus’ wrist. “We’ll go as slow as we can. No surprises. I pr-”

Leo seemed to choke on the word “promise”, acting as if its name was foreign and poisonous to his tongue. Lotus reacted similarly, as her soft, shaken gaze hardened into a glare of warning.

Raph twitched next to him.

Leo’s shoulders rose in a tense arch as he retreated his head to his chest, letting out a small sigh. “... I hope.”

That seemed to be the correct answer, as Lotus’ harsh expression placated and her posture loosened.

I guess I can’t blame her… Leo did say back in the Medbay that he had screwed up with the Lido- whatchamacallit juice… Something about it not working? Or… Not lasting long enough. But- that wasn’t his fault! Why would Lotus blame him for that? It was a total accident!

Mikey thought back to the events of yesterday.

Huh… Maybe that’s why she was sick. Maybe she had a… a… what do you call ittttt~ Oh- Allergic reaction! If that’s it, then there was no way Leo could’ve known!

… But then… what was that glare about?...

Mikey knew like the back of his hand how to identify different kinds of expressions. As the youngest, it was his birthright to annoy his brothers endlessly. And throughout the years, he quickly learned how to gauge each of their reactions- whether they were growls, glares, taunts, hisses, or the usual shout.

Leo always responded the same. A quick verbal warning, followed by the usual threat to tell their dad. Easy and predictable. Boring.

Don was a wild card. It completely depended on the day, how work was going, and how many brain cells had died due to his customers’ stupidity. His reactions ranged from a simple warning hiss to physically chucking books. On a severely bad day, his freckled brother would give chase after rushedly telling his client on his headset that he’d “be right back~”.

Raph was the middle ground. But he hadn’t always been that way. In his younger years, he would almost always react to Mikey’s pranks with violence, wrestling or biting the youngest until he apologized or ran away to dad. He never truly did any harm, but more or less just frightened Mikey away.

And then things began to change rapidly. Raph and Leo fought more. They drifted apart and spoke harshly to each other. Any time they would begin to argue, tears would relentlessly begin streaming down Mikey’s face. Soon after, Don’s gentle hand would guide the youngest out of the room where the two would sit in the brothers’ bedroom and color, surrounded by muffled shouts echoing through their no longer peaceful home. Mikey hated hearing his oldest brothers fight so often. They wouldn’t try to argue out a truce or understanding, but instead inflicted more verbal wounds on each other. Their words became sharper than the blades they had been gifted for their fourteenth birthdays. More blood was shed through insults than in sparring practice. Eventually, Master Splinter completely drowned both Raph and Leo in homework, having hours of Bible lessons in their dad’s room.

All that to say…

Mikey knew what bitterness looked like. And that same weariness of two souls separating in painful warfare returned to his heart when he saw how Lotus had looked at his oldest brother.

I don’t want this to happen again.

“BOYS.”

Every living soul in that room tensed at the lightning CRACK of Master Splinter’s call.

Oh we’re all dead.

Mikey didn’t have to look at the time to know that he and his brothers were beyond late to practice… And now they were about to reap those consequences. All the brothers quickly ran to the door of the dojo, simultaneously calling back “Yes, Master Splinter!”

When they all entered, sporting the walk of shame with their heads slightly hunched inward, they quickly found their places on colored mats placed neatly on the ground.

Once Mikey’s knees planted themselves onto the thick fabric, and his nostrils breathed in the fresh scents of Sensei’s candles flickering in the corner of the room, a realization sparked inside of him of how long it had been since all the brothers had done their training together. Ever since Don and Raph were taken, Leo and Sensei were spending nearly every waking second searching for the twins. While they were gone, Mikey was forced to stay home thanks to his annoying ankle still healing. It was incredibly boring and beyond aggravating to be forced to rest and heal while his family was searching for its treasured missing pieces.

Throughout all those weeks of searching and healing, the brothers didn’t step foot in the dojo together. Mikey knew Leo would go in to train late at night, with the youngest frequently waking to the echoed *taps* of the punching bag being wailed on…

But this was the first time they were all back together for training; A big step in the right direction to recovering from their wounds, and grow stronger again as a team.

Mikey’s thoughts came to a screeching halt at the sound of Sensei clearing his throat to get his attention.

Leo was the first to speak up as usual.

“Uh- Sorry, Dad… We had a little situation with Lotus-”

“- Do you mean the female turtle?” Their sensei asked, tilting his head and perking his ears in question.

“Yeah, that’s what she told us to call her… Anyways, she wasn’t feeling great so we just had to make sure she was okay.” The oldest spoke meekly, his eyes meeting their father’s in due respect. Leo gave a cheesy grin with a weak chuckle. “We um… we didn’t mean to be late…”

Splinter’s expression didn’t change all that much, his ears slacking to their normal height. His whiskers twitched as he let out a thoughtful hum, making the brown and white fur adorning his face bristle just the slightest. A long, five fingered paw rose to stroke the white beard hanging from his pointed chin.

“Hmm. I see.” The old master mused, raising his hazel brows in contemplation. “I suppose it would be fine if you skipped your training today, Leonardo. Please, go take care of our guest. But I still expect you to practice those katas after dinner. You are excused.” He said with a gentle wave of his hand, allowing Leo to stand up, give a graceful bow of his head, and return into the living room.

Lucky.

“Michelangelo.”

Mikey twitched at his name being called and straightened his posture, giving Sensei his full attention. “Yeah, Dad?” He asked, doing his best not to allow his voice to crack. Going by the fact that a muffled snort escaped out of Raph, he didn’t quite stick the landing.

“I would like to talk with you privately after training is over. There are some… matters we must discuss. Now that you’re thirteen, I must tell you about some changes that will be happening.”

Raph snorted again, but was instantly cut off by a loud *THWAP* of Sensei’s staff bopping the fiery brother’s head.

Confusion and dread pooled into Mikey’s breakfast-less gut.

AM I IN TROUBLE???

And that's it for this chapter!! :)

We have officially reached the "healing" arc in my story. These coming chapters are going to be a bit more slice-of-life, but don't worry, there will still be a lot going on! It felt really nice to write a chapter in Mikey's perspective again. He's just so bright and cheery, and he gives me the best opportunities to sneak in easter eggs from other shows with his dialogue or inner thoughts. ;)

AND NOW Y'ALL KNOW WHAT SPLINTER LOOKS LIKE. YIPPEE KAI YAY. ~ (I had to use 2012 Splinter as reference guys- I'm sorry I just can NOT get that ratman's anatomy to LOOK RIGHT- XD But I am happy with how his overall design turned out!)

A BIG THANK YOU TO @poetique823 for reviewing and critiquing my chapter! <3

@indieyuugure @writer-in-wonder @allyheart707 @oddartistl3 @risebabyx2 @joyjoygorl @carrots-bear @imagionationstation @howtotrainyourdragonprince @jasminegazer @brightonstudios @ninjaturtlefan-dee @rottmntlover14

If you want to be tagged in the next chapter, comment down below! (That way when I post the next chapter you'll get the notification!)

To God be the glory!

~ Melissa

MASTERPOST <- PRIOR CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ->

#tmnt #the strength in weakness #my version of tmnt!!#SIW Leo #SIW Raph #SIW Mikey #SIW Lotus #SIW Splinter #Full Splinter Reveal BABY #These brothers love each other #The dojo took FOREVER to get right #but I'm happy with how it turned out :)#Lots of little things hidden in the art of this chapter #I'm curious how many of you are going to find em hehe #The new arc has begun~#Buckle up

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