#but i’m glad i never got too in the weeds of that

[silent-partner-412]

i feel like i’m engaging with fandom in a way i really never did when i was a teenager nowadays. i never talked about characters i love like i do now. like i never read a fanfiction till i was 19, and then i never read one again till i was 20. honestly, i never really made long posts about the specific shit i’m into the way i do now. honestly i think i would’ve probably found my current self a bit cringe (and that’s on toxic masculinity tbh) but i enjoy engaging with stories and games this way. it’s fun, cathartic, and honestly i need that shit now more than ever lmao.

[bloatedandalone04]

Love Drug

➪the one where you have a girls night while jake has a guys night, and he gets a surprise when he comes home and finds you acting more clingy than usual.

Warnings: drugs, weed, alcohol consumption, first time weed trying, swearing, fluff, pot brownies

Word Count: 2.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“I love you,” Jake spoke in between kisses as he pushed you up against the wall beside the front door. You couldn’t seem to get a word out as he kissed you again, his hands placed firmly on your hips. “Have a good night. I’ll miss you.”

You laughed against his lips, pushing on his shoulders. “You’re going to be late for drinks,” you warn softly, pulling away from his relentless mouth. “And the girls will be here soon.”

Jake groaned quietly, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. “Okay, okay,” he sighed, reaching up to caress your face as he guided you into one final, soft kiss. “Have a good night, baby.”

You smile, leaning into his touch. “You too,”

Jake reluctantly pulled away, straightening out his simple dark gray button up and smoothing out his hair in the mirror on the opposite wall from the one you were currently leaning against. “I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said as he turned to you and placed his hands on his hips. 

Nodding, you step forward and take it upon yourself to tuck his shirt into his jeans. You smile up at him, keeping your fingers tucked against the denim waistline. “I love you,” 

He grunted quietly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “I love you, too,” he said back, turning to grab his keys and wallet from the small table by the mirror. “Text or call me if you need anything.”

You smile and nod as he opened the front door, and you leaned against the frame and watched as he got into his truck. You waited until he was gone before closing the door and heading towards the living room to wait for your friends to come over. 

Ever since you moved in with Jake, you two have been inseparable. Even more than you were before. Bradley liked to constantly point out the fact that he was against the two of you living together because he knew no one else would ever get to see either of you, and he was kinda right. 

To prove him wrong, though, you suggested a girls/guys night, where you invite some of your friends over and Jake goes out with the guys. 

Of course, you and he spent all morning and afternoon together before he left, so you both were able to get your fix before being away from each other all night. 

Only ten minutes had passed before you heard the front door open. “I’m here,” Nat called out as she entered the living room, a case of coolers in one hand and a plastic container in the other. “Jake better not be, even though I didn’t see his truck.”

You scoff as she places the drinks and container onto the coffee table and sits next to you. “No, he left,”

“Good,” she grinned before wrapping her arms around you. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. You and Jake make me sick, seriously.” She joked as you hugged her back. 

“You’re so sweet,” you mutter and she laughed before pulling away. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Nat smirked as she gestured to the drinks. “I brought the goods. Where is everyone else?” As soon as she asked that, the door swung open again and your other friends, Brittany and Rachel, came walking in. 

Soon enough, the four of you were spread out around the living room. You and Brittany were having a pretty intense debate on whether white or red wine tasted better, while Nat and Rachel were poking through Jake’s old movie collection. The fifth and final guest, your childhood friend Jill, arrived half an hour late, but you expected that since she had never been on time for anything for as long as you’ve known her. 

As the night went on, Nat opened the container she brought and you were finally allowed to see what was inside it, and you were a bit underwhelmed when you saw that it was just brownies. 

She went on to explain that she made them herself, but you quickly tuned out when your phone went off and you saw that Jake had texted you. 

Jake💖: I miss you. The guys aren’t as fun to hang out with as you are. 

You smile, a blush coating your face as you texted him back.

I miss you, too… Of course they’re not as fun as me ;) 

You glanced up as the girls started to eat the brownies, and you took one from Nat as Jake texted you back. 

Jake💖: How’s your night going? Any guys in my house?

You grinned as you bit into the brownie, and you had to admit that it was pretty good. You never took Nat for a baker, but she should definitely do it more often. 

Don’t worry, I’ll kick them out when you come home.

Jake💖: You better be joking. I’ll come home right now.

A laugh left your lips as you finished the brownie, and when you looked up at the others, they were all looking at you with raised brows. “Sorry,” you mumbled as you finished chewing, assuming they were teasing you about being on your phone. “One sec.”

You know I am. Hope you’re having a good time with the guys. 

After that, you set your phone down as Nat gave you another brownie and waited with a small smirk on her face until you took a bite of it. “Okay,” you trail off, looking up at her when she stood to go mess with the speaker by the TV. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Were you not listening when I told you what I put in those?” She asked as she plugged her phone into the speaker. 

You shake your head slowly. “No, sorry, Jake texted me,” you answer and then you realized the other three were also smirking at you. “What am I missing here? Why are you all staring at me?”

“Oh, no reason,” Rachel shrugged. “I’m assuming you like the pot brownies?”

Your face fell and you quickly looked over at Nat before down at the half eaten brownie in your hand. “These are pot brownies?” You asked quietly, and when Nat nodded, your eyes widened. “Nat! What the fuck, you know I don’t like messing with drugs.”

She placed her hand over her heart. “It’s not my fault you decided to text your boyfriend instead of listening to me when I told you what I put in them,” 

You groan, falling back on the couch. “I had almost two of these,” 

“One and a half,” she nodded. “Yeah.”

“What the fuck,” you whine, setting the brownie down as a random song from her gym playlist started playing through the speakers. “What’s gonna happen to me?”

“You’re probably gonna get high,” Jill answered, finishing the brownie for you. “I’m actually kind of excited to see it. You were always such a good girl in high school. I could never get her to smoke with me.” She told the others as Nat sat down next to you. 

“Don’t worry,” she grinned. “You’ll be just fine. Trust me.”

And trust her you did, and then within the next half hour you were stumbling your way over to the bookshelf by the window, a cooler in one hand and the other half of Nat’s brownie in your other. 

Rachel, Jill and Brittany were all chatting about something that didn’t interest you, and Nat was laying down on the carpet and staring up at the TV as old music videos played. 

A grin took over your face as you looked at the framed picture of you and Jake on the third shelf, his arm slung around your shoulders and big, goofy smiles on both your faces as you looked at the camera. “You’re so cute,” you mumble to yourself as you trace your finger along the glass, outlining the shape of your boyfriend. 

“Y/n,” Rachel whined as she moved to lay down next to Nat. “I’m hungry. Do you have any food?”

“No,” you answer as you keep staring at the photo. “We meant to go shopping today but we got distracted.”

“Ew,” Nat groaned loudly, “Can’t you just ask Jake to pick up food?”

You turn to look at them and part your lips to answer, but your phone going off interrupts you. Setting your nearly finished cooler down, you grab your phone from off the couch and see a text from Jake. 

Jake💖: About to head home. Do you girls need anything while I’m still in town? 

“Do you want pizza?” You asked your friends as you sat down on the armrest of the couch. 

A multitude of ‘yes’ sounded throughout the room and you quickly type out a text,

Can you get us pizza? Pretty please?

You attached about six hearts onto the end of it and waited for his response, and you smiled when it arrived. 

Jake💖: Of course, baby. See you soon. Bird man is coming back home with me, by the way. 

You laugh at his nickname for Bradley before telling the others that food was on the way. Despite only being away from Jake for a few hours, you missed your boyfriend a lot and were having a hard time staying still as you waited for him to come home. 

The brownies definitely didn’t help calm you down, either. 

About forty minutes later, you heard the front door open and two sets of heavy footsteps enter the house. Jake rounds the corner and walks into the living room with Bradley behind him, and you were up and on your feet quickly. “Hey,” he trailed off as he took in the sight of you and your friends. “I brought the-”

You cut him off by throwing your arms around his neck and pressing your body close to his. Jake stumbled back a bit, the pizza nearly being knocked out of his hand before he quickly gave the boxes to Bradley. “Hi, baby,” you beam, kissing his cheek about five times, before burying your face against his neck. “Thank you for the food. You’re the best.”

Bradley raises his brow as he looks over at you, an amused scoff leaving his lips. “I knew you guys should’ve never moved in together,” he muttered before taking in the sight of the other four girls.

Jake ignored him as he pulled back to look into your hooded eyes, his brows furrowing in concern. “Are you okay?” He asked and you nodded quickly, laughing quietly after. Realization flashed through his eyes as he glanced behind you at your friends before looking back at you. “Baby…are you high? Or drunk? Or both?”

You bit down on your lip and shrugged. “A little? Maybe?”

Bradley scoffed again, walking over to Nat and sitting on the couch. “Damn, Phoenix, what did you do to our innocent Y/n?” He laughed as he set the pizzas down on the coffee table.

“I made pot brownies and she had two of them before she realized what was in them,” Nat answered, moving to sit next to him as she opened the pizza box. “Thanks for the pizza, Bagman.”

Jake gave her a quick glare before you brought his attention back to you by gripping the side of his face. “I had one and a half,” you correct, running your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “She told me what was in them but I wasn’t listening because I was texting you.”

His gaze softened as he wrapped his arms tighter around you. “Awh, baby,” he cooed, then you started pressing open mouthed kisses to his neck and throat as if you weren’t in a room with five other people. “Okay, honey, let’s get some food into you. Have you eaten anything? Well, other than pot brownies?”

You shake your head, keeping your chest pressed against his. “No,” you answer, pressing your forehead against his temple as you whispered in his ear, “I’d rather get you into me.”

Jake groaned quietly and shook his head, “Not while you’re like this,” he said quietly as he walked you backwards until you were by the coffee table. “Come on, baby.” He sat down on the armchair and you were on his lap immediately, your thighs draped over his as he held a piece of pizza up to your lips. 

Coaxing you down from a high when he got home was not something Jake had in mind when he left earlier, but he couldn’t deny how cute you looked as you clung to his side. You were even more clingy than usual, and he knew he would be hearing about this from Rooster for quite some time after this.

Jake watched as Bradley kept poking Nat in her side, and the way she kept swatting at his hand in annoyance, and then he turned his gaze to Jill, Brittany and Rachel, who all looked like they were about three seconds away from falling asleep. 

He sighed, wrapping his arm around your middle and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He knew none of these people were leaving tonight, including Bradley, and the thought of having a house full of groggy and hungover guests tomorrow morning was something he was not looking forward to. 

But as you finished the piece of pizza and gave him the crust to eat, Jake just shook his head with a grin, because he knew he would happily put up with all of it just for you. 

And as he took the crust from you, the way you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek before mumbling, “I love you,” was more than enough for him to push his complaints aside completely.

-

Me and my bsf are going to see Twisters tonight and I haven’t been this excited to see a movie in a hot minute 😌

[chestersturniolo]

Summary ; dealer!chris visits y/n for a top up of her usual, but intrigue consumes her and she decides to try something new.

Pairing ; fem!reader x dealer!chris

Warnings ; (MDNI) strong mentions/use of drugs (don’t do them!) , use of y/n & pet names , not really proof read 

============================

after a long, long day, i trudge through the door of my apartment with a deep sigh. 

i throw my bags down by the door and immediately head to my bedroom, to the pretty glass jar stashed in my dresser. 

i fumble around the draw and pull it out,eagerly snatching the lid off. 

“fuck” i mumble to myself, whilst staring down at nothing but pathetic crumbs laying at the bottom of the jar. i let out a frustrated huff,setting it down on top of my dresser.

i reach to my back pocket, pulling out my phone 

the upside to running out is needing more…and needing more meant seeing him. 

chris was my first ever dealer. and my only one since then. at first i was terrified of him, i had never smoked before. so having to meet a scary stranger guy to be able to do so, made it even more nerve wracking.

••••••••••flashback••••••••••••

my heart is in my throat as i walk towards his car. the soft glow of the streetlights that flicker slightly not helping my nerves. meeting a random guy in his car at night for illegal activity? what could go wrong?

the only thing that keep those thoughts at bay (not really) is the fact i got his number from a close friend who i trust. 

“here goes nothing” i sing to myself before reaching out to the handle, plopping down into the passenger seat. i keep my eyes at my lap, too nervous to even make eye contact. 

“uh-hi” i mumble, barely audible

“what’s up… what do you want, and how much?” 

i tear my eyes away from my lap, to meet the boys gaze.

woah

i open my mouth to talk but nothing comes out, partly because i didn’t expect him to look like this , and partly because i had no idea what to say. or how any of this works. 

i just sit, staring like an idiot , mouth agape.

“helloooo” he says with a slight underline of frustration in his voice, waving his hand across my eye line to grab my attention. 

“what do you want” he repeats, 

i force myself out of my trance “um…weed?” i squeak, coming out more like a question 

“okaaay? and how much?” he presses.

his face emotionless and stern

once again i have no idea what to say. this should be so simple, but i have no idea the terms and phrases, how much is too much, how much is too little????? i try my best to hide the thoughts running through my head with a simple “just a little i guess…”

what the fuck is wrong with me 

i watch as his eyebrows raise and he lets out a soft chuckle

“you’ve never done this before have you” 

i wave of embarrassment washes over me as i feel my cheeks burn up, realising that my inexperience is so blatantly obvious. my gaze once again falls to my lap.

“uh..no..no i haven’t” 

he must notice my humiliated state, as his whole demeanour shifts.

“hey,don’t worry about it” he reassures, his voice now soft. 

“i’m just glad you came to me” 

i glance up to him once again, a new set of eyes now looking back at me. warm and reassuring.

a soft smile on the corner of his lips.

“i’ll help you out okay? i don’t think you should do it alone” 

i nod softly. for some reason i trust him.

•••••••flashback end•••••••

the rest of that night was spent with chris. he wasn’t so scary after all. we went to a backstreet and he talked me through everything. we smoked, we talked , we laughed. 

he made me feel so comfortable and safe. and i will forever be grateful for it.

i have been going to him ever since. although it’s not just a transaction.

we’ve hung out every now and again (a/n iykyk) and an unspoken connection has been built between me and chris since we met that night. i’m honestly not sure what it is. 

i’m not just a customer.

he’s not just my dealer.

we care for eachother.

———————

i change into an oversize T and some shorts to get comfy, whipping my bra off and basking in the free feeling. 

i hear my phone ping, i look over to see a text from chris 

“here”

i smirk and slip some shoes on, not bothering with any extra clothing, making my way out the the apartment. 

i see his car parked in the complex lot, i rush over ,goosebump’s engulf my skin as the cold night air whips around my legs. i swing the door open, plopping into the passenger seat of the warm car, the smell of chris’ familiar cologne fills the air. 

“hey ma” he chirps, shooting me his signature smirk whilst his eyes trail down to my legs and back up again.

“want your usual?” he asked, starting to rummage through the backpack on his lap.

“pleaaaaseee” i smile. 

chris starts pulling out handfuls of baggies placing them on his lap, whilst looking for my usual. 

my nosey eyes fall on the pile, examining the contents of each bag. 

one in particular catches my eye. the bright white contents staring back at me. 

i had never had any interest in anything else other than smoking. but for some reason,in this moment, my intrigue was strong. 

“here” chris says, holding out a familiar bag. 

i grab the bag without looking up 

“thanks”

chris notices my fixation and follows my gaze down to his lap. 

“oh absolutely not!”  

i snap my head up, his slightly widened eyes already on me. his eyebrows are raised as he looks at me with a face full of disbelief. this quickly turns into a stern look.

“no way, i’m not selling that to you” 

“why not, you sell it to other people?” i challenge with a slight pout. 

chris sighs and tears his eyes away,setting them on the dashboard. 

“yes, but they’re other people ma. you’re you.” he glances back to me 

“i’m not selling that shit to you y/n” 

i roll my eyes with a defeated sigh. 

“fine” i mumble, crossing my arms, turning my head frontways away from chris.

“don’t sell it to me. i just kinda wanted to try it i guess” i speak quietly, whilst making sure the disappointment in my tone was clear. 

see i knew chris was a softy deep down. at least for me. so i figured i’d try and make him cave. but just incase that wouldn’t work, i had the perfect saving grace

“i’ll see if y/f/n has any other contacts, maybe they’ll sell it to me” 

“god dammit” i hear chris hiss under his breath through gritted teeth.

i feel him grab my jaw, guiding my head back towards him. his eyes staring intently into mine.

“one try” he states. pointing a finger at me with his free hand. 

my lips turn upward into a smirk

he notices my satisfaction, releasing his grip on my jaw. he sighs with a shake of his head. stuffing the scattered baggies on his lap back into his bag, before opening the car door and stepping out. i watch him as he comes round to my door, opening it and reaching a hand out. 

“come on” he orders. 

i grab his hand, he pulls me up and starts leading me back to my apartment. 

—————

my leg bounces anxiously as i perch on the edge of my couch, watching as chris wades through his bag once again. finally he pulls out the bag i was fixated on. 

he holds it up to our eye level, his eyes move from the bag to me.

“you’re sure about this?” he asks, with a dead serious expression. searching my eyes for any traces of hesitancy.  

i nod my head 

“talk to me” he presses 

“yes chris i’m sure”

he gives a soft nod of his head before opening the bag.  i watch as he brings his finger to his mouth giving a small suck to the tip, getting it wet. 

he pauses, glancing up to me

“you trust me?” 

i nod once again  “of course” 

he reaches into the bag dipping his finger into the powder. i watch curiously as it sticks to his wet finger tip.

he scoots closer to me on the couch and uses his free hand to hold my jaw. 

“open sweetheart” he whispers, giving my jaw a small squeeze.

my brows furrow slightly, but i obey, slowly opening my mouth.

chris brings his other hand towards me , and slowly slides the coated finger into the side of my mouth. i feel him find his way to my gums, slowly rubbing up and down. his reassuring eyes not leaving mine. 

he repeats the action to the other side,then slowly pulls his finger out, planting a sweet kiss onto my cheek whilst still holding my jaw. before placing the finger that was in my mouth, into his own, taking off the excess. 

he sits back into the couch and watches me.

a mixture of anticipation and nerves start to wash over me, my leg returning to its bouncing state. the fear of what will happen next starts swirling in my brain. 

chris noticed my shift immediately , he reaches over and grips my knee, holting the bounces. brushing his thumb in small soothing circles. 

“hey hey-” he coos, bobbing his head down slightly to meet my gaze that’s now resting on the floor

“-it’s okay ma, i’ve got you aight?” 

================================

a/n - thankyou for reading loves🤍🤍🤍 and thankyou again for 500 of you!!? this was a fun one i hope you enjoyed. requests open 🥰

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

[wheneverfeasible]

Inspired by this post courtesy of @steddiecameraroll

wc: 1.3k || rating: E || cw: drug/alcohol use || summary: Steve loses a bet. Pre-Steddie rivals-to-lovers. Ambiguously takes place in a S1 AU.

🔞🔞🔞

“Fffuuckk…”

The word was drawn out, breathy, and cracking in that perfectly wrecked way that had Eddie’s pulse throbbing in his jeans. His mouth had long since gone dry at the sight, his eyes never wavering.

It had started as a bet, a dare, something between two dudes who had had a little too much weed, a little too much beer, and it had been humorous at the time. Sure, Eddie felt a little guilty about it considering his own feelings towards the guy, but Steve had been game for it, so…whatever. He hadn’t really expected Steve to lose the bet after all…

The wet schlick of Steve’s hand only added to the sound of shuddering breaths, the gasping whines as he chased the end, his neck arched back in pleasure. Legs spread wide to give Eddie full view.

“Beat that, King Steve!” Eddie crowed as he landed on his feet, wiping his wet mouth dripping with beer with his whole forearm, eyes sparkling in delight.

Harrington just scoffed from where he was standing nearby, hip cocked out with his arms folded over his chest. He rolled his eyes mockingly. “Please. That’s not even close to my record. I can take you down easily, Munson.”

“Oh yeah, big boy?” Eddie sneered, but there was no heat to his words. “Bet you can’t.”

A competitive streak sparkled in Harrington’s eyes, dropping his arms to stalk up to Eddie and pushing his finger into his chest. “Oh yeah? Wanna put your money where your mouth is, Munson? Let’s bet on it. I win, I get free weed for the rest of the school year.”

This announcement was met with resounding cheers from their audience, but Eddie wasn’t paying attention to them. He was paying attention to the warmth of Harrington’s finger against his chest, the warm breath that wafted over his face that already smelled like beer and Eddie’s weed, the way Harrington’s eyes were lit with mirth and a hint of friendliness towards the town freak. His lips were curled into a smirk of his own and Eddie wanted to lick it.

Eddie caught Harrington’s wrist where his finger was still pressed into Eddie’s chest, pulling it off him to tug Harrington closer. “You so confident you’re gonna win?” Eddie snarked, a part of him telling him to cool his jets before Harrington remembers he crashed his party after selling his product instead of leaving, but the weed and the beer rushing through him from his keg stand wouldn’t listen.

“Then, let’s make it something truly terrifying.” Eddie leaned in to whisper his prize if Harrington lost in his ear…

“Oh god,” Steve whimpered, and Eddie could only watch the pearly flood leaking from Steve, dribbling over his fingers as his hand moved faster, squeezing at the base with a deep moan.

Eddie could feel an answering patch of wetness in his boxers, making him glad for his black jeans at the moment. He shifted ever so slightly in the chair pulled up to the foot of Steve’s bed, where the other boy was propped up against the pillows and short headboard.

He ached to touch, to press the heel of his hand where he throbbed in his jeans, but he only stared, watching Steve with a continued smirk, legs spread out as he lounged back. Even for all of his displayed nonchalance, however, he couldn’t stop the flush in his cheeks as he watched Steve, nor the hungry look in his eyes.

Harrington jerked back at Eddie’s words, staring at him with wide eyes and a slightly gaping mouth. He was silent and still for just long enough that terror started to fill Eddie’s booze and weed drenched mind, and he was just about to laugh it off like a joke, to squash his stupid crush down down down, when Harrington moved.

The other boy closed his mouth, cleared his throat, and shook Eddie’s hand off his wrist. His eyes dragged over Eddie before he crossed his arms again and smirked. “You know what, Munson. You’ve got yourself a deal. I’m not King for nothing,” he said with another scoffing roll of his eyes. “I always get what I want.”

Harrington moved over towards the keg without another word, deftly let his teammates hoist him up, and the count began.

“Fuck,” Steve breathily gasped again, his hips making small thrusting motions as his feet dug into the bed below him, giving him the room he needed. His free hand was, amazingly enough, roaming over his chest, lightly tugging at his own chest hair with another moan.

The moonlight filtered in through his open windows, casting his tanned body in a spotlight for his audience of one. Steve’s sweat glistened, the sheen of his shiny and wet tip like a beacon for Eddie’s eyes. At least until Steve’s other hand drifted down, skating his navel, over his hip, and skimmed over his balls.

Harrington didn’t make it. It was close, literally just a single count away, and then he had to drop the nozzle in defeat.

Eddie won.

When Steve’s fingers slid lower, slipping between his cleft to touch the most intimate part of himself, Eddie couldn’t keep his own gasping moan between his teeth. If Eddie had thought Steve might have forgotten he was on display, that was immediately disabused now as Eddie’s sound merely causing Steve to arch against his fingers, a deeper, more guttural moan leaving him.

“Fuck, Eddie…”

“If you lose, Harrington, then I get to watch you jerk yourself off.”

The sound of his name on Steve’s lips, wrecked and needy, sent a pulse through Eddie that had him leaking heavily and twitching in his jeans so much it was painful. The gasp that left him only seemed to drive Steve on further, his hand fisting his own cock tighter, faster, his breath punching out of him with every harsh tug.

“R-right there, fuck, yes,” Steve was moaning, and even though the words were barely anything at all, they were somehow the filthiest thing Eddie had ever heard in his life. “Fuck, feels so good.”

Eddie couldn’t stand it anymore, his wide eyes glued to the purpling tip of Steve’s cock, barely able to drag his eyes away to see the way Steve’s other fingers massaged over himself between his ass cheeks. Eddie’s hand crushed and squeezed his own erection through his jeans, thrust up against his palm for more pressure. The pain was exquisite.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Steve gasped, the muscles in his thighs and arms bulging, his toes curling in his sheets. Throwing his head back, cords in his neck straining as he clenched his eyes shut, Steve came in thick and hard rivulets over his fist and shooting across his chest with such velocity a splatter even hit his chin. “Eddie…”

Eddie let out a shaky moan, his own dick spasming in his jeans as he released wet and hot in his boxers. The only sound in the room after their oddly in sync panting breaths.

Two weeks later, at another party that Eddie was actually invited to as reigning Keg King, he could only watch with slack jawed awe as Harrington surpassed not only Eddie’s record with ease, but also his own.

When Harrington landed nimbly on his feet, he sauntered over to Eddie with a small smirk, and leaned in close enough to whisper softly in his ear. “I told you, Munson. I always get what I want.” He pulled back just enough to look Eddie in the eyes. “Next time, let’s bet your mouth.”

Then, with a wink, King Steve was swept away into a congratulatory crowd, leaving Eddie wondering…just who had been playing who, and just how soon was too soon to propose marriage.

-

Hostage tag: @derythcorvinus

Tagged in celebration of first publicly posted smut: @katyawriteswhump

[moonstruckme]

hi!! ngl i’ve never actually requested anything so im kinda nervous to do so but if it’s possible, do you think you could write something along the lines of eddie munson with like an anxious reader? maybe she has a panic attack and he’s there to help in the aftermath or just an overall anxious person. i know you’ve written something similar with the marauders so i hope that this is okay for me to request. i love love love ur writing!

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: aftermath of panic attack

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 642 words

Eddie’s rambling hasn’t stopped since you sat down, but it’s become background noise for you, like ocean sounds or the music they play in grocery stores. You know well enough how to get yourself through this. His hand on your back is a steady, if somewhat frantic, reassurance. 

“You okay?” Eddie asks, his rhythm slowing as you blow out a lungful of air, bending your head towards your knees. You hold up a weak thumbs-up, and it picks up again. “Shit, yeah, you’re okay, baby. You’ve got it.” 

You feel bad that this is Eddie’s first time dealing with you like this, though it’s nice to be in his trailer and not at the mall or in a restaurant or something. His couch is familiarly uncomfortable, lumpy in places and nearly flat in others, and the air smells like weed and grease, the electric fan Wayne brings out for the summer months whirring diligently in the corner. You’re glad Wayne’s not home now, though someone should probably be around to comfort Eddie after he’s done comforting you. 

“Anything I can do to help?” he asks again. “You want some water or something?” 

This time, you nod. Your boyfriend all but springs up from the couch, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and hustling it back to you like he’s training to be one of the NASCAR pit stop people. You take it from him, rubbing the condensation from the bottle on the back of your neck before taking a sip. The chill is grounding. You rest your head back on your knees.

“You feeling better, sweetheart?” Eddie grabs another water bottle from the fridge once he sees what you did with the first, holding it to your neck. “You seem better. Sounding less like Darth Vader.” 

You laugh a little, and he laughs back nervously. 

“Yeah,” you say, “it’s mostly better now.” 

He blows out a breath. “Phew, okay. Jesus. You’re a fucking champ, you know that?” 

“Thanks,” you chuckle. “Sorry I put you through that.” 

“I’m pretty sure I’m not the one who went through something just now, so consider your apology heard and nullified.” Eddie’s lips come down on the back of your head. “I’d tell you where to shove it, but I’m feeling kind of bad for you right now. Count your blessings.” 

“Oh, I’m counting them.” You smile down into the semi-dark valley between your legs and chest, taking one more deep breath in and out before lifting your head. “Okay, I’m good.” 

“Yeah?” As he pulls back to see you, your boyfriend doesn’t look so sure. His eyebrows are pulled up in the middle, freakishly huge eyes full of freakishly sweet worry. “Good enough for a hug?” 

You hum your assent, and in the next second you’re in his lap. Eddie goes all the way, curving his body over yours as his arms wrap protectively around your back and his cheek squishes into yours. 

“It scares me when you’re scared,” he admits. 

“Sorry.”

“No—goddamnit, what did we say about that? You’re lucky you’re cute, I swear—don’t be sorry. Obviously it’s not your fault, I’m just sorry that happened to you. It seemed really fucking shitty.” 

“It felt really fucking shitty,” you agree. “I’m wiped.” 

“Honestly? Me too.” Eddie chuckles. “Nap?” 

“Yes, please,” you say, but wriggle closer to him, preventing him from getting up. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. He starts rubbing your back again, contemplative. 

“You wanna sleep here, or on the bed?” 

“Bed,” you answer immediately. 

“...right. But are you gonna get up and go to the bed?” 

You make a thoughtful humming sound, grasping him tighter. “Probably not. Maybe you could carry me?” 

A sigh, long and dramatic. “Yeah, maybe I could.” Eddie’s hands move to grip you more securely, and he grunts as he stands. “You’re seriously lucky you’re cute, trouble.” 

[prttykittes]

staying anon for this bec i feel disgusting indulging in this.

i’m big on dark/dddne stuff and yet I feel terrible reading it so i’m kinda glad i found somewhere i can kindof have a place to express more extreme stuff.

anyways big sis beidou wants to be your first so right when you turn 18 she takes your virginity :3

or dad zhongli sees that your bf is not what he thinks a BF should be like to he takes him out and makes you his. i mean this is more of a possessiveness than actual NSFW. i dont know😭

Stoner kazuha roofies you (with prior consent tho w this one)

Diluc gives you too much to drink so he fucks you instead.

i have so much more.. and if i ever do come back i’ll be “:3 anon”

do what you want w any of these 💕

Woahh:0, there's alot so I tried my best to do everything blog, I won't shame anyone for liking these things kind of stuff!!<3

ෆ Big!sis Beidou, Stoner!Kazuha, dad!zhongli, diluc X Afab!Reader [you/your]

— Synopsis:: multiple characters x reader, yeah

CW. Incest(father/child, Sister/slibing), smokes, weed, roofies, consent(Kazuha), dubcon(for everyone else), possessive sex(zhongli), drunk sex(Diluc), age gaps, fingering, Dom!characters x Sub!reader, reader wears pants in kazuha's part

A/N :: Multiple sexy characters :4— written by a minor

[MASTERLIST] — ╰⁠(⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)⁠╯ works in link!

BIG SIS! Beidou ! — She was so happy for you! It was your birthday! She got off her boat and went to your parents house! She saw you, you were still gorgeous as ever! She tears up, she was with for 18 years, her lovely slibing.... Oh how she dreamed about this day, she wants to be your first. So she's going to take you to her boat since you had always wanted to go on the water with her! She would spent time with you on there, just you and her. She celebrated your birthday, then she asked if you wanted to go on a ride. You said yes, now your both on her boat but instead of familial love it was filled with romantical love. She was half she was your first, she at first toying with your nipples. She went lower, she can hear you breathing heavily. Your eyes are hazy, your mind cloudy. Her hand was your sex, she rubbed it. She sees your lovely juices on her fingers, she can't wait to claim you as hers. Her sweet, lovely slibing all hers!

STONER!Kazhu— The smell of weed brunt your nose, he was smiling at you. His hand on his chin, his eyes were slightly red. He had his eyes on you, you sat down next to him. "{Yourname}" he says, you tilt your head in confusion. He gets up, his legs slightly trembling, he wraps his arms around you. "Can I?" He said, you knew what he had wanted to do. You never went this far in your friendship with him! You did have dreams and did wish for him to like you, you also had sexual dreams about him. You can't believe what your going to do with him, he smiles. He grabs some pills, he was going to roofie you but instead of doing it without consent. He has your consent, you close your eyes and take it. You gulp and your head feels weird, your eyes become hazy. He smiles and gently lies you on the bed. He is on-top of you, he lays soft and gentle bites on your neck. He continues to do while his kisses gets lower, you close your eyes and let yourself into the pleasure. He toys with your chest, rolling your nipples between his fingers. He pulls down your pants and touches your sex through your underwear. His finger going up and down, pressing on it. "Your so cute..." He mutters, he take soff your underwear and Lena's down and licks at your sex. He smiles when your sex twitches. He coats his fingers in your pre-cum, then he prods his finger at your hole. His fingers scissor your virgin hole, making you more open for dick. You can feel his clothed dick against your leg while he continues to finger you, after some minutes. He stops and and pulls down his pants so his underwear shows and he slides his underwear down and his dick jumps up. He aims his cock at your hole, your hole clenches around nothing as you anxiously wait for it. He grabs a condom and enters you, his hard dick inside of you. He moves once you get used of his size. The motion is lazy and tried but it still feels good. Your virgin hole is not a Virgin anymore!!!

DAD!ZHONGLI !— He doesn't deserve his sweet baby! He stares at you and your boyfriend, he isn't a boyfriend. His boyfriend ideals for you are something like him!! He angrily glares and judges your boyfriend from afar. He can't believe that you chose someone that is trash, he gets so mad that he gets rid of your boyfriend... Oh I wonder how he got so bloody and why he is covered in blood.. don't worry it's not his!!don't worry baby, no need to worry about anything~ he comforts you after you find out your boyfriend is dead, shhh.... You still have him, your daddy is always here for you!! He won't leave you, he is going to make you his, not like you weren't his from the start! His kisses start form your temple to near your lips, his hands on your thigh to inner thighs. You sniff as you lean into his touch, just enjoy his touches. he slips his hand into your pajamas pants, touching your underwear. He continues to kiss your neck, wanting to mark you with his kisses and his touches. His fingers touch your sex and he slips his hand into your underwear, he smiles as he can feel your sex being wet. He pleasures you with his touches, he can't wait to claim you for his own. Emptying his seed inside of you!

DILUC !— He watches you, you weren't this drink from the start but you know... Things change, he continues to give you more. You were worried about the drinks because you wouldn't have enough to pay but you don't care anymore. Your drunken state, it exitces him but it's only with you. He gives you two more drinks and you drink it up fast like you want to please him... Your flustered face makes him want to kiss you and fuck your face but he can't bring himself to do so~ you let out hiccups and you lay your head on the table. He cleans the empty cups and gives you one more, you grab it weakly as you managed to drink it. You rant to him about annoying people and troubles in your life, he smiles as he listens to you. Your face still on the table, your hands are in a fist but then it goes limp. He hears soft snores from you, he walks around and rubs your hips. He blows in your ear, you still don't wake up. Your body is asleep and he could take advantage of it. He groans while he moves you over to more of a comfortable spot. He takes off your lower clothing and slides down your underwear. He sticks his finger in a cup as it is soaked with the alcohol, he pushes inside of you. Your loose and not tight, your whole body being loose. He kisses your forehead and continues to finger your hole, he lets out a grunt. His dick is really hard, he pulls out his cock and aims it at your hole. He can't wait anymore, he spits on his palm and rubs it on his dick. It's unsanitary but whatever because he is going to be inside of you!! His dick enters you, he lets out a groan, he moves his hips. It feels so good, he should do this more often to you until he gains courage to ask you out!!

[slytherinsrule89]

Hii how are you? Love your blog 🎀

May i ask for a request of the boys dating someone from hufflepuff or other houses?

Byye 🌸

Hello lovely, I’m doing well and hope you are as well :) I’m so glad you love my writing and I’m glad you requested this

Slytherin boys x Hufflepuff!reader

Hufflepuff Reader :)

Tom

Tom was quite skeptical of you at first because you were a Hufflepuff but it was soon after he had learned just about everything about you that he had asked you out. Well more manipulation happened than actually asking you out, but you know whatever works. It took him a while to get used to your bubbly personality and positive attitude but he managed, just so that he could say that your beautiful face belonged to him and only him. As we all know he’s quite possessive so when you are talking to your friends or even just strangers, with that great big smile of yours, he’s always there watching. Making sure that if the person you’re talking to even steps a toe out of line he will be behind you in an instant. You guys were an unpredicted couple that no one would have ever guessed but somehow you two still made it work. Plus it’s not like Tom would ever let you leave him.

Blaise

Blaise had a soft spot for Hufflepuffs. He liked their positive personality and hardworking dedication. So it wasn’t much of a surprise when Blaise had started to fancy you. He had asked you out as soon as possible and when you agreed with that kind smile you always wore he was ecstatic. Blaise had poured his whole heart and soul into that date and it was a start to a great relationship with him. He’d often sit with you in the library when you’d help tutor the younger students. Always watching and admiring how good you were with people. Doing it all with such grace and confidence. Something Blaise admired about you the most was how humble you were. Most of the guys in his house were constantly bragging about this and that constantly trying to one up each other. So when he noticed you were quite the opposite he got comfortable with you quite quickly.

Theo

Originally Theo had only been talking to the Hufflepuffs to get some weed for the Slytherin parties and well, his own personal use too. But never once did he expect to come across you. When you had first started talking to each other Theo had made it clear to everyone that you were his only. Even before you guys started dating.He had a tendency to go a bit quiet when there were a lot of people in the room and a lot of talking. So when you guys finally started dating and he had realized just how much people enjoy talking to you on a daily basis he was a bit quiet. You were quick to pick up on it though and reassured him a lot. Eventually though Theo had gotten used to it and actually admired how kind and helpful you were to everyone. And it also wasn’t long before Theo grew comfortable enough to talk more while you were with friends. Theo was always cheered up at the way you face lit up when he had talked along with you and your friends and had simply talked more just to see it.

Mattheo

Mattheos first encounter with you was interesting to say the least. He had just finished a fight and was up in the Astronomy towers smoking a couple cigarettes to calm himself down. That was when you had come up there and saw him frowning at his busted up knuckles and his cut lip. You were quick to take out your small first-aid kit and sit him down on the ground of the tower quickly cleaning him up. He was shocked of course, being the dark lord's son and all he wasn’t used to this treatment but quickly learned to enjoy it. When he realized how much he craved to be near you all the time he was quick to ask you out and make it a special night as well. The whole time after that first date Mattheo started noticing the smaller things about you. Like how much you valued your friends, how loyal you were, and just how pure you heart was. He enjoyed the change in pace and didn’t want it any other way.

Enzo

Enzo had had a few Hufflepuff friends that he’d hang around with when he got tired of the Slytherins rowdiness. One day when he was with his few Hufflepuff friends in their common room, he met you. You were very kind to him right off the bat and drew him in like a magnet without even trying. Enzo knew right away that he wanted to be with you and didn’t waste any time asking you to be his girlfriend. When you happily agreed Enzo did everything in his power to be the best of the best boyfriend. While Enzo thought all Hufflepuffs were more of perfect beings he wasn’t too far off but one thing he did notice is when you put others above yourself but he had no part in that. He started quickly making sure that you made time for yourself and weren’t stretching yourself too wide for other people. Something he’d do for the rest of your lives with no fault.

I really enjoyed writing it and am quite happy with how it turned out. Hope you all enjoy 😊

[gremlingottoosilly]

Cabin in the woods (yan!slasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!slasher!Horangi) part 3

Little birdie got caught. Konig is simply too excited to let you go. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 AO3

TW for the chapter: Light blood and gore, dead bodies, mentions of drugs, spanking, kidnapping

— Those fucking bastards killed Karen! Don’t you care?! 

Shouting at your friends was never your forte, but you expected that it would come out at some point in your unwilling journey, You never knew it would because of the psycho killers on the loose, wanting nothing more but to make a nice set of decorations from your bones and eat your liver. 

You try to scream some senses into Chad’s tough skull but, just like his name suggests, this is a useless endeavor and you would be far better off running for your life, abandoning your friends, and hoping that killers would be satisfied without your sacrifice. But, you’re too nice. But, you have a bleeding heart and a death wish – and you feel guilty over not feeling guilty that Karen is dead. This is a new, overwhelming feeling for you, the one that almost revamps your whole essence. There are changes occurring, and you would rather die than acknowledge those changes. 

— Listen to me, goddamnit! We’re all going to die! 

You must be looking horrible – mouth covered in blood like you just ate a bunch of raw meat, smelling of dirt and fresh guts, hands shaking and your face resembling the horror mixed with anger – even Marty is surprised to see the resident mouse behave like this. God, even you are surprised to see just how horrified you look, screaming at them in the hope of saving at least someone. 

Marty drops a hand over your shoulders, pulling you to the side. You try to resist, but his clanky figure is surprisingly grippy and strong – you are being pulled to the nearest tree branches, just out of the range of the group. You spend the previous few hours trying to find them and yell some senses into their heads – and the only thing that they advised is that you should stop drinking for today and that stealing pills from Marty’s stash isn’t very nice even if he kinda doesn’t care where his junk goes. Still, you are fucking trembling. 

Marty pushes you to the tree, whispering in your ear – you feel his hot, deranged breath on the side of your face, making you wince. Even compared to the killer’s smell of sweat and blood, they still were nicer to be around than Stale-Beer-And-Cheap-Weed-Breath Marty. 

�� Hey. Heeeeey, doll, what was happening back there? 

— Karen is…

— Nah-nah-nah, this is where you should shut up, yeah? Karen isn’t dead. I mean, I’m glad you think she is, it means my prank is fucking awesome. 

Prank? Her fucking head was chopped off and then tossed over to the nearest creek when the shorter killer decided that he wants you to perform a blowjob on his knife, making sure that you are licking all the blood away. You don’t think that there are ways to fake this – and if there are, then your friends and their hired goons are no better than actual killer psychos anyway and you’d still want out. 

— I saw her! 

— Sure you did, hon. Listen, I’m really glad you were the first to notice and everything, but keep it down for now, yeah? I have this sick mask and I was actually planning to prank the group later at night, but if you found it first…

— Prank?! There are two actual killers on the loose, this is the worst time to do pranks! — God, you’re annoying. This is why I fucking asked Jenny not to invite you. There are no killers, alright? Karen agreed to partake in the prank, so she is hiding somewhere in the forest until I’d pull out that sick knife and fucking scare everyone shitless. You were probably hallucinating from booze. 

— I saw her severed head!

— Sure you did. Listen – you can help me, yeah? Just rile everyone up a little, then you will come back and say that…hmmmm…that Marty was taken! Everyone panicking, screaming, crying, and then I show up with this big-ass knife and…

You never heard the last of his amazing, perfect, simply brilliant idea – because before he could finish it, his head was impaled with…oh, no. No-no-no, you can’t do this anymore, not so soon after Karen is dead, not when you are still shaking and can barely think straight not when you are far away from others because Marty fucking led you to another secured place just to get his stupid head impaled with a fucking crossbow bolt – something that you only saw in video games or historical dramas. 

This was completely silent – the quiet music of the bolt flying through the air, a small grunt that escaped Marty’s lips before he fell to the ground beneath your feet. You didn’t even manage to see from what direction this thing came from, too disoriented to observe the world around you properly. You feel the adrenaline running up again, probably breaking the record for you in the whole year – you jump from the body on the ground, tears dwelling in your eyes. You can’t do it, you can’t do it, you won’t do it, you were never a fighter, the freeze-fight-flight instinct always coming up to curling down in a small ball and sucking on your thumb. 

Some people are simply not built for survival – this is a natural order, something that Darwin was talking about. Soft, weak humans are meant to die, meant to be the food for stronger predators, for monsters dwelling in the shadows. Some creatures are never meant to exist – fleshy cute creatures, the ones that melt at the slightest touch, someone like you – when your first answer to a threat is to roll on your back and show your belly to a mountain lion, you just knew that evolution never meant for you to live past the crib. And yet, civilisation allowed you to survive. To thrive even, before you were put in this fucking forest. 

You run before everything else can kick in – at least some of your instincts are working properly, adrenaline running through your veins as you are leaving Marty behind, not even bothering to check if he is still breathing or not. The man was never thinking with his head – not the upper one anyway – but you doubt that he would survive a bolt shot perfectly between his eyes, separating his brain in two perfect halves. Like a fucking apple. 

You ran 

 ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎   ‎‎      ‎    and you ran ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎  ‏‏‎  ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎      and you ran some more

And you ran right into his chest. 

Wall of muscles, no less – you aren’t even sure if this is a human’s body, too sturdy and hard and perfect to belong to something less of a Roman statue. You feel tears running down your face, panic not even bothering to settle in – you know you would be dead in the next few moments, brain tragically easy saying goodbye to being intact. A pathetic sob escapes your throat as you are caught for the second time in this night – lady luck might be smiling upon you the first time, but you doubt you can be her favorite for long. 

— I thought the rule of escaping was to run away from danger. 

This is the tall killer – low voice, secured by the mask, making it almost unrecognizable. You shake as a big, glowed hand goes on your back, laying there heavily. Even more pathetic sounds are produced from your lips, and you are almost ready to beg him for a quick, painless death – his hand is big enough to cover your head and you don’t want to think of the implications that he might crush your skull with just his fingers. 

König listens to your sobs, doing nothing but keeping a firm hand on your back, securing you in place. You sob and whine and tremble in his hold – and he was never more hard in his life. What an adorable, pathetic little creature you are. Helpless in his hold – even squirrels can fight, scratching and biting. You were sobbing in his hold like the perfect kleine prey you are, and he could almost pretend this was a hug. 

— Tshhh, Hase, don’t cry. I won’t be able to let you go if you’d proceed with those sweet noises, ja? 

His revelation only makes you squirm more. You finally try to get out of his bear-like hug – only to realize that all of your little movements and struggles fit perfectly with the enormous, pulsating bulge in his pants that can probably be considered a murder weapon on its own and shouldn’t be concealed since this is an obvious threat to…ah, on second thought, running around from a serial killer who has his monstrous dick hanging out would be worse. Much, much worse. 

— Let me go! 

You squirm one of your hands, punching his chest. Feels like punching a marble statue – the only thing you are hurting is your own hands. You try to resolve to a different form, jerking up your knee to land a blow on his crotch. 

He fucking moans. 

— Never knew you were such a fighter, Schatz. But I warned you, aren’t I? 

You don’t understand what he is talking about before he suddenly lifts you in his hands, dropping you on his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. You are crying, trying to get away, [unching him with your legs and your hands, all the adrenaline in your veins working solely for the purpose of inflicting as much pain on this enormous figure as possible. 

You tug on this weird hood he is wearing – if you are going to die, at least you would die exhausting all possible options, not feeling like you gave up without a fight. This is still a journey of self-respect and deep insight searches for the mysteriously hidden backbone of your body – maybe, yoga classes would be more effective and less dangerous but, unfortunately, you’re not a rich white housewife in her thirties, so not like you have money for a guru who would spend hours trying to convince your ovaries to stop dying on the inside. 

— Let! 

You punch him on the back, a multitude of well-served punches right into his back. He laughs, spreading his shoulders, cocking his chest forward like you were giving him a massage. With a groan, you made a very deliberate punch right in the middle of his back – and he moans from satisfaction, probably releasing some pent-up tension that he got from killing grandmas and destroying hotels. 

— Me! 

You tried to kick him in the chest, your legs working overtime as you cosplayed a rabid rabbit – only for him to laugh even more, his arm securing you holstered across his shoulder like your punches meant nothing. They probably didn’t – he is literally still holding a fucking crossbow in his other hand, managing to secure it on his side while moving towards…you only assume it to be a murder cabin because of course those freaks would have a murder cabin, why the hell not – probably with some cool classy furniture made out of bones. 

— Go! You finally manage to secure hold on the edge of his hood, yanking it upwards in hopes of actually revealing who the fuck is he – a dirty businessman who doesn’t like those damn kids and their dog to ruin his plans for burning down the forest to create a shopping mall? A nice old man who showed you the road when you were lost, but he is actually on a spree to get revenge on all young people for killing his pet chicken in 1997? One of those creepy guys at the corner store who was weirdly obsessive over you, talked like a serial killer, and was constantly and also came in pair with the guy whose height and manner perfectly resembled a pair of killers that are after you now? 

Probably the grandpa. 

You yank the mask up and…

Ah. 

Of course, he is wearing a freaking balaclava. The only thing that you managed to see were his eyes – blue, icy, pretty, filled with anger as he pulled the hood down, concealing his features again, without you even managing to take a closer look. You gulp loudly, preparing to die. 

He smacks your ass with a power that would be enough to break a bone – your only saving grace is that the flesh of your butt provided some cushion, instead leaving a nasty bruise and inability to sit for at least a few days. That is if you would even survive long enough to have problems sitting on your backside. You won’t have such problems if you’re dead, right? 

— Quiet, Schatz. I already breaking the rule for taking you too early. 

— Br…breaking a rule? Do you have a freaking hunting pact? 

— I promised Tiger that we’d let you roam around a little. Make things interesting. 

Ah, yes, because letting you go the first time was such a brilliant idea on their behalf. The only reasons you didn’t go straight to the police is because A) You don’t speak rural Austrian German, B) Your phone can’t connect to anything, and C) You don’t even know in what part of the forest you are. Also because you’re scared that the police are going to turn out treacherous people, just like in horror movies, and that it would fucking destroy your trust. 

— I can roam around. I can roam around just fucking perfect, ass…

Another loud smack on your ass makes you feel like a misbehaving kitten. He grips your ass through your jeans and you whimper a little bit, starting to cry again as his hand goes straight for the bottom, gripping your cunt through the tough layer of denim. You thank every god you know for making you wear ugly, but protective and thick jeans. Every time his hand goes to cup your most intimate parts, the fabric of your jeans protects it – you don’t even feel too violated when he pushes his fingers even more, desperately trying to get a reaction out of you. 

— Language, Hase. Don’t make me discipline you, ja? — Fuck you! — Very gut then. That’s what you will do very soon.

Oh, but the rough material grinding over your delicate, thin panties and the sensitivity of your cunt really makes you feel…something. You won’t want to admit it, he smells like blood and sweat(still better than Marty, but you shut down that thought before it was born because fuck the new abortion laws), and he spanks your ass only to grope your pussy right after – and he also has masterful fingers that are working at the hem of your jeans, making the fabric press even more against the sensitive skin and…

You try to think of something – anything. 

Dead bodies, dead bodies, a lot of dead bodies, and there are some dead puppies too and everything is gross and smelly and…ah, it’s not working. 

König touches your lower parts with a wide grin under his hood – you’re fucking perfect, a nice addition to their house. You bite when he needs a little fight and you shut up when he touches you – perfect birdie, adorable birdie, Horangi will probably be bitching about spoiling the fun since you’d be stuck with them without a proper chase like he wanted, but the tiger would come around once he’d emptied himself on your warm body just once. 

You squirm under his touch, moan and cry and tremble and he can’t stop imagining you in millions of different positions. Stuck in the basement of their house, on your knees like a good girl you are, maybe with some branding or a collar – it’s more of a Horangi’s thing, even though König hopes he won’t have to break you too much until you’d call him daddy – pushing you to their shared bed, making sure that you’re nice and stuck in some open positions, allowing them to take you without much repercussions. 

— Let me go. 

— Nein. 

— Please? 

— I like your begging, Spatz. 

— It means you’d let me go? 

— Nein. You will tell your little friends, and then you will run to the police, ruining our fun. You are not going anywhere. 

— But, um…your culprit will be mad, no? 

As cunning as you can, you’re trying to seal the seeds of destruction among them. You’re trying your damn best not to act too charming or too fake, just so he won’t fall in love with you for real and would try murder-suicide you, but also with enough charisma checks so you’d actually convince him. 

But, it’s not really working – maybe, you aren’t as good at spreading havoc as you thought you were. 

— He’d live. We would get to hold you in your house, little one. It’s enough to make him understand my reasons. 

It’s definitely enough to make you want to puke. He is fast, not even bothering to check on the body of your friend as he goes past it – he just marks it with something that resembles a piece of torn fabric and pushes some leaves and sticks on the body, probably signalling to his friend to come and get rid of the body – and then he changed your position a little bit, securing a hand on your ass he goes deeper into the forest. 

You’re trying to remember the location, maybe counting the trees and every bush that seems like a good mark – but you, a city girl raised on a cocktail of Google Maps and a constant internet connection, have already grown tired of trying to remember everything. Every tree is the fucking same, every turn feels like the one before and, at some point, you were sure that he is actually going in circles to make you understand the location even less. Your blurry vision obstructs the goal even more – you cried so much, it feels like your very eyes gave out. With a sigh of defeat, you metaphorically roll over to your back and present your belly to the predators. 

After a hike that felt like hours, but was probably like 10 minutes long – this guy has long legs and the determination of a dog dragging a really cool stick home and, before you know it, you’re standing in front of a…house. Nice house. Expensive house, a big house, something less of a mansion, but more of a shed that you thought he was going to live in because he is literally a serial killer. 

Even serial killers made good property investments in the respective years – and you were too busy with useless stuff, like learning how to walk or trying not to choke yourself on a piece of carrot. 

— Welcome home, Schatz. 

He gently lets you down from his shoulder, allowing you to take a closer look at your surroundings. Normal living room – literally nothing weird. Maybe a bit too much hunting trophies, maybe a lot of guns lying around, some overly manly decorations, and very questionable art pieces but if you’d see that house advertised on the property website, you wouldn’t even consider it too weird. You were expecting…something. Blood on the walls, furniture made out of human flesh and skin, a devilish feast for imps and every like them…

You saw nothing as König punched the back of your head, putting you to sleep. 

You fucking hate forest trips. 

[katyswrites]

put on your records (and regret me)

PART 3 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: asshole!Steve, rivals-to-lovers, swearing, alcohol use, recreational weed use, descriptions of puking/hangovers, no use of y/n, not quite smut but we're getting close folks

Wordcount: 4.3k

Playlist

You love WAMC-Hawkins, Indiana’s top college radio station. It’s your safe space, your niche. It’s where you’ve made your friends, your favorite place to be when the rest of the world gets to be just a bit too much. Well, with one exception.

Steve Harrington is a thorn in your side. And just as well - he thinks you’re a royal pain in the ass. But in your senior year, you’re both on the e-board, so you have to work together. You love to hate him. So why can’t you get him out of your head? And, why do you find yourself going to see his band, each and every weekend?

Underground basement concerts, spinning old records, and screaming matches in the vinyl library with the boy you love to hate. An enemies-to-lovers college radio station 90s AU.

TRACK 3

You don’t see Steve for nearly a week after that - you hang around the radio station quite a bit, as you usually do, but never manage to run into him. You should be thankful for that - for how peaceful it is. It’s not even like you want to see him - no, why would you? He’s a pain in your ass, and you should be thankful that you can do your job in peace. 

No, it’s not actually at the station that you see him next - though, it’s tangentially related. You’re at perhaps your second-favorite place in the world - Varsity Vinyl, the local record shop downtown. It has some of the best selection you’d seen, and you always find yourself there - buying for your own growing record collection, or rooting through the used and discounted bin to help stock the station’s vinyl library. It’s where you find yourself on a Saturday afternoon, flipping through records while figuring how much money you actually realistically are able to spend.

You don’t see him, not at first. He’s standing further down the aisle, and when you finally look up and spot him, you nearly jump - he’s just staring at you, eyes wide. You straighten up, just holding eye contact - you feel like two wild animals sizing each other up, deciding whether to run or fight. You’re truly deciding between those two options when he clears his throat.

“Oh - uh, hey,” he says, quieter than you had expected.

“Hey.”

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, a beat of silence passing between you. Then, you both find yourselves speaking at once:

“Your party was fun the other night -”

“Are you okay -”

You both pause, and you awkwardly laugh.

“Sorry, uh - the party was fun last weekend. Thanks,” you say quietly.

Steve shrugs.

“Oh, yeah - glad you came. You… you seemed like you were having a good time.”

Like I made an absolute fool of yourself, more like, you think to yourself.

“Oh! I mean - I guess. Sorry if I got a little - uh -”

“It’s fine, don’t worry - we’ve had worse,” Steve assures.

He hasn’t said anything about bringing you home. Part of you is convinced that Eddie was misinformed, and Steve didn’t actually bring you home that night - that is, if it wasn’t for that stupid note. The note you probably should have thrown out, but stuck into a desk drawer instead - to refer to later, just to make sure you weren’t crazy, you had reasoned.

But now, Steve is standing in front of you, more quiet and withdrawn than you’ve ever seen in the past four years of knowing him.

“So, uh - thanks,” you say quickly, almost mumbling.

“For what?” he asks, confused.

“For, um, getting me home safe - I don’t really remember it, but -”

He waves you off. “Oh, that - don’t worry about it. The hardest part was getting you to tell me your address,” he says, laughing. “You were wasted.”

You groan. “That’s…embarrassing.”

He smirks. “Honestly, yeah, a little bit. But most people were gone by then, so… your secret’s safe with me.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“I mean - I’m surprised you didn’t tell everybody - how I was, you know, throwing up all over your apartment, being a drunk idiot -”

Why didn’t he? It’s leverage - a way to make people lose respect for you, and gain more for him. A part of this stupid, pointless power battle you two seem to always be involved in, seeing how far you can push one another. His response is unexpected.

“You don’t actually think that little of me, do you?”

You don’t really know how to answer that.

He scoffs. “Look, it’s not my fault that you can’t hold your alcohol for shit. But, I’m not going to go around telling everyone that, okay? Christ -”

He trails off, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re welcome, though.”

You suddenly feel like a bit of an asshole - Steve is used to you throwing insults his way, but this time, it seems to have struck a chord with him.

“I was in a really bad way, wasn’t I?” you ask quietly, avoiding eye contact.

He nods. “Honestly? Yeah, it wasn’t pretty. You really don’t remember?”

You shake your head, face feeling flushed with embarrassment. He just sighs.

“What do you remember?”

You rack your brain for a moment, biting your lip absentmindedly as you think.

“Um - I remember playing Kings with everyone… and, uh…”

I remember you coming in from the porch with what’s-her-face on your arm -

“-and it gets fuzzy after that,” you say quickly.

“Oh, okay - wow, that’s pretty early on. Well, you did some shots with Eddie and Robin - you got on the kitchen table at one point ... I think you threw up over my balcony… and after that I, uh, hung out with you in the bathroom while you threw up some more, and brought you home.”

You freeze. “Wait - you babysat me, like, the whole time? I thought that was Eddie -”

“No way, Eddie was too high to help anyone. I was stone-cold sober by that point, thanks to you.”

“Oh,” you say, wishing you could sink into the floor. Steve fucking Harrington knew what you looked like keeled over a toilet and puking your guts out… dammit.

“It was pretty gnarly, but… it’s fine. Really, it’s okay.”

For maybe the first time in his life, it sounds like Steve is being sincere with you. Another beat of silence passes, then he’s clearing his throat again.

“So… you have any big plans tonight? A repeat of last weekend, maybe?” he asks casually. You furrow your brow, confused.

“Um - do you actually care?”

He shrugs. “So what if I do?”

“Well - no, after last weekend I’m not sure if I ever want to drink again -”

“The most famous lie ever told,” he cuts in, grinning. You just roll your eyes, and pretend to be interested in perusing the records as you return to flipping through the crates.

“-but it just so happens that I do have plans tonight,” you say quietly.

“Hot date?”

You scoff. “I’m going to Fuze Box. Nancy’s covering some bands for an article for the campus paper, and I figured I’d check out who's playing tonight.”

WAMC has a long-standing relationship with Fuze Box, a small music venue for local artists and college bands. A lot of students and station members play there, and shows at the Box get advertised a lot on the air. You try to go to local gigs as much as you can - though, you haven’t made as much of an effort lately, too overwhelmed by other responsibilities as station manager. Nancy’s article is a good excuse to go, for the first time all semester.

“So, you don’t know any of the bands playing tonight?” he asks, leaning against a shelf and crossing his arms.

You shake your head. “Nope - just figured I’d check it out, go in blind. Maybe I’ll even put some of the bands in my radio slot next week, if they’re selling CDs or something.”

Steve grins mischievously.

“Right - well, have fun, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname, and know that any semblance of an awkward peace between you two is gone - the Steve you know and love (to hate) is back. You turn to make a clever retort, but he’s gone, having stalked off to a different aisle.

You’re not sure what he’s up to, but part of you now has a sneaking suspicion that he might show up at the venue tonight just to piss you off - it’s such a Steve move.

As you go to the checkout, you do your best to shake it - after all, what’s the worst that can happen?

*****

“Thank you - we’ve been Lime of Decision - goodnight!” the lead singer shouts, a collection of hollers and applause following. The lights go up a bit, some venue staff coming out to the stage to adjust the equipment for the next band.

“Lime Of Decision is… a choice,” Nancy says, scribbling something into her notebook.

“Yeah, that’s because their name is literally meant to be a joke,” you say absentmindedly.

“What?”

“Jason, the lead singer? His ex-girlfriend is in a band called Lemon Of Choice, so it’s like…funny. I think.”

Nancy chuckles, shaking her head.

“Which band is better?”

“Definitely hers,” you say immediately.

You and Nancy both stare at each other for a moment, and break into a fit of giggles.

“I’m going to get another drink, you want anything?” she asks.

You shake your head, holding up the cup of beer you’re still nursing from the beginning of the last band’s set.

She disappears into the crowd, and you sigh, taking a drink as you once again survey the room. If Steve actually is here, you haven’t spotted him yet - maybe he decided that getting on your nerves wasn’t worth actually paying the cover at the door. Or, maybe he actually had more important plans - maybe even with that girl he was all cozy with at the party -

You stop yourself - why do you care? If anything, it should be a good thing that he doesn’t seem to be here. 

There’s two more bands left to go - you had glanced at the flier on the way in, but only recognized Lime Of Decision in the lineup. So, when Nancy returns with a new drink and the lights begin to dim again, you just hope the next band is better - it can really be hit or miss at these sorts of shows.

Darius, the radio station’s tech engineer, is emceeing the show. He steps out on stage to introduce the next band, earning a smattering of cheers and hollers thrown in his direction.

“Alright, alright everyone! Settle down - that includes you, Hagan - Jesus Christ, okay - can we give it up for the amazing bands we’ve heard so far tonight?”

You clap along with the rest of the crowd, rolling our eyes at the sound of particularly rowdy hollers from the back that you just know comes from Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin.

Darius’ eyes narrow.

“Dammit, Munson - when I said a month-long ban, I meant it -”

You glance back to see Eddie flipping Darius off - famously, Corroded Coffin got a temporary suspension from Fuze Box for smoking weed in the green room. But, the ban actually being enforced… not likely.

Darius rolls his eyes, struggling to get the room back on track as he taps the microphone.

“Okay, okay - everyone, can we please - if you all can shut the fuck up - okay, whatever. The next band up tonight - you guys know and love. They’re a Fuze Box favorite - and no, they are not promising anything with the name. Give it up for Free Beer!

You can’t help but laugh at the band’s name - you instinctively turn to Nancy, who is doing her best to stifle a giggle as she writes something on her notepad, squinting in the dark.

It’s during those few seconds while you’re looking away that the band takes the stage - which is why, when you glance back, you freeze as you see who’s standing front-and-center.

Steve stands at the mic stand, an electric guitar slung over his shoulders as he smiles at the crowd.

You freeze. Other band members - including Robin and Argyle, who you know all too well from the radio station - come out onto the stage behind him. But you’re just staring at Steve, dumbfounded.

You knew he had a band - scheduling them to perform on the air was always a nightmare for you, which you knew Steve did on purpose. So, you had never learned anything about them on-principle. You hadn’t heard a lick of music, didn’t know who else was in it, or even the goddamn name - until right now.

Nancy’s eyes are on you, you can feel it. You turn briefly to look at her.

“Do you want to leave?” she asks, glancing at where Steve stands on stage. You shake your head.

“God, no! I - I’m an adult, I can be in the same room as Harrington,” you say, laughing nervously. You’re not sure how much you believe yourself. She stares at you for a moment, then just nods, turning her attention back to the stage, where Steve is stepping up to the mic.

“Hey guys - we’re Free Beer. I’m Steve -”

A few feminine voices cheer from the back. Your eyes roll so far to the back of your head that you’re worried you’ll go blind.

“Thanks, ladies, love the enthusiasm. So - let’s just get into it. Ready to hear some songs?”

There’s an eruption of cheers through the audience - one of the biggest reactions of the night so far.

“Alright - this one is called ‘Closer,’ I hope you enjoy.”

From the moment he plays the first chord, something shifts in the room. The crowd becomes less rowdy, less chatty. No - everyone is really listening. Some are even singing along - how the fuck do this many people know the words? 

You want to hate it - you want the set to be something you’re tolerating, something that makes you look forward to the next band coming out. But, despite your efforts, that’s not what happens. Because the band is good. Robin is killer on bass, and Argyle is a formidable drummer, despite his perpetually laid-back persona. And Steve - it’s like he was born to do this.

Aside from having a pretty good voice, and being an excellent guitarist, he’s actually a good frontman. He’s charismatic, knows how to work the crowd, and somehow, he makes the tiny stage of the Fuze Box feel as exciting as Live Aid. 

You want to scream - of course he’s good. You catch yourself moving along to the music every now and then, and immediately stop yourself, hoping nobody sees. At one point, you swear Steve sees you. His eyes land on yours - or, at least, in your direction. You think you imagine it - it’s a big enough crowd, and you’re far enough back that he probably can’t see past the first few rows. That is, until he smirks, in the way that you know he reserves only to taunt you, to challenge you.

Fuck.

*****

You find yourself heading down the hallway after Steve’s set - you’re looking for the bathroom, shouldering through the bodies packed into the narrow passage. Part of it is because your beer has finally gone through you, and more so because you need a minute of peace and quiet, just to stare at yourself in the mirror and talk some sense into yourself. Steve’s band can’t be good - that would be a problem. If you didn’t know who was part of it, they’re the kind of band you would buy records for, keep a spare CD in your car, and even include as part of your radio show. But…it's Steve.

You had purposely never gone to any of his shows - you never listened to any in-studio sessions they did at the station, and God knows you would never ask Steve about his music. What the fuck?

Part of you also wants to smack him - of course he was performing here tonight - he looked you in the eye at the record store today, heard you were coming here tonight, and said nothing. Next time you see him, you decide, you’ll ignore him - you won’t even acknowledge that you saw him perform. If he asks, you’ll tell him you left the show early, long before he came on stage. You won’t give him the satisfaction of thinking you sat through his whole set, let alone enjoyed it.

You can’t exactly remember where the bathroom is - was it all the way at the end of the hallway? None of the doors are really labeled, which tracks for Fuze Box.

You knock on a few doors and jiggle the handles - one is an electrical closet, the other is locked and seemingly empty. You finally reach a door at the end, and give it a gentle knock - nobody responds. You try the knob, and it gives way. After shouldering your way inside, you wish you hadn’t.

Apparently, instead of the bathroom, you’ve managed to find the green room - although, to call the backstage area of the Fuze Box a green room is generous. It’s really a tiny room with a worn out couch, a cracked glass coffee table littered with ashtrays, and lighting so dim that you have to squint to figure out exactly where you are as you slip through the door.

It’s only once you’re inside, when it’s too late, that you realize you’ve walked in on Steve.

His back is turned to you, but he jumps slightly and turns when he hears the door open. He’s wiping his brow with a towel, and he grins when he sees you.

“Hey, sweetheart - wasn’t expecting to see you back here.”

You stand in the doorway awkwardly - why couldn’t the rest of his band be hanging out here with him? That way, you could throw out a blanket ‘you guys were great’ statement. But now it’s just him, staring at you, his face saying why the fuck are you here?

“Oh - sorry - I’m in the wrong room,” you say quickly, your face feeling hot as you start to back away.

“Okay - sure you are,” Steve says sarcastically.

“What does that mean?” you ask, stopping your retreat.

He shrugs. “Don’t know - you just seem to always conveniently stumble into me, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Try to stop me.”

There’s a moment of silence, and you just groan with frustration, taking a few steps towards him.

“Jesus, I - I don’t know if it’s like, a weird sick game to you, or you’re just always trying to piss me off - or if you just can’t help and flirt with everyone -”

“You think I’m flirting with you?” he asks, grinning mischievously.

You stop, folding your arms in indignation.

“No - I mean, kind of, but probably as a joke - I know what you’re up to, Harrington.”

“And what exactly am I up to?”

“This bullshit you keep pulling,” you say, gesturing between you two. “This - like, always sabotaging my shit, and getting in my way - but then like, this stupid nice-guy thing, where you drive me home when I’m drunk and don’t tell anyone, but then like you trick me into watching your stupid band perform -”

He scoffs. “Trick you? Be serious -”

“You knew I’d be here tonight - you knew, and didn’t say anything -”

“Well given your track record, sweetheart, if you had known I’d be playing, I’m sure you would’ve been front row!”

You stop mid-sentence, mouth hanging open as you try to search inwardly for a reply. Your face feels hot all of a sudden.

He’s smirking now, just like he did on stage. As always, he’s too confident, too sarcastic, too Steve. He’s taken away your ability to even come up with a halfway decent retort. It pisses you off.

“I - that’s not -”

Your blood is rushing to your head, roaring in your ears, too enraged to even let you think straight anymore. You’re marching right up to him now, prodding his chest with your finger.

“I don’t like you,” you say. 

“You don’t say?” he drawls, still smiling. Why is he smiling?

“Stop doing that -”

“Doing what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“Stop distracting me -”

“I distract you?”

You want to kick yourself.

“I - well - only because you’re so -”

“Devilishly handsome?”

“-fucking annoying.”

He cocks his head, like you’ve only mildly piqued his curiosity instead of insulted him.

You sigh. “What?”

“It’s just - you didn’t seem to find me very annoying last weekend when you tried to kiss me.”

A beat. You just stand there, jaw agape as his words hang in the air between you like smoke on a hazy summer’s day.

“That’s not funny,” you manage to say.

“Does it look like I’m laughing?”

You’re suddenly aware of how close you are to him - the next band has started outside, a distant din that should be distracting. But all you can focus on is Steve - the beads of sweat on his forehead, the way you’re close enough to smell that he had just had a cigarette.

“I didn’t -”

“Sweetheart - right before you puked your guts up in my bathroom, you tried to stick your tongue down my throat. Don’t worry - I didn’t let you. I really thought you would’ve remembered, until I saw you in the record store - then I realized you didn’t remember jack shit.”

You feel like you’re making this up. He’s just saying this to get under your skin - he must be. It’s the only explanation. Because you’d never - 

“You’re lying.”

But he’s just staring at you, and you’re starting to get the sickening suspicion that this isn’t a joke.

“You’re lying,” you repeat, though it sounds more like a question this time.

He’s taking another step towards you, shaking his head.

“You know what they say, sweetheart - in vino vesco, or whatever. You know - how people say and do what they’re really thinking when they’re drunk -”

“Veritas.”

He stops, furrowing his brow.

“I - what?”

You can’t help yourself - you just can’t.

“The phrase is in vino veritas - it means truth. I think vesco means food or something, you’re missing the whole  -”

“Shut up,” he says. “You’re always such a -”

You don’t let him finish. Instead, you’re kissing him. You don’t mean to do it, you swear - but he had gotten so close, the heat radiating off of him too much to ignore. And, he was really pissing you off - you didn’t need to hear another word out of his mouth.

You fist your hands in his t-shirt, your lips on his, messy and desperate, like you’re trying to prove a point. And he’s kissing you back.

Steve kisses the same way he argues - he’s aggressive, his hands coming up to grab your face and pull you closer. He tastes like cigarettes and cheap beer, his aura hot and desperate as it envelops you. 

The band plays out in the venue, the audience cheering and singing along - but, all you can hear is Steve’s labored breath against your lips, your own heart thudding in your chest.

The kiss was all teeth and tongue, another argument you were both desperate to win. But, right now, you’re losing. Because he’s guiding your body, and you’re responding, stepping backwards until your back is hitting the cinderblock wall.

No words are spoken, just breathy moans and the sounds of your lips moving in unison. It’s not remotely romantic - it feels more like fuck you, I’m trying so hard to hate you, why can’t you let me -

One of his hands has traveled down to your waist, gripping it firmly enough to tell you that he wanted more. You feel his hand start to move, slipping under the hem of your shirt and gently brushing the warm skin of your lower back. His hands are calloused, rough against the softness of your skin. You let him start to explore, unable to stop yourself from quietly moaning against his lips. 

You know you should stop - but you can’t. It’s addicting, the way he’s still fighting with you as his tongue enters your mouth. Is this really happening? Maybe this could’ve gone on for hours. That is, until -

The knock on the door makes you both jump, pulling apart as quickly as you had crashed together. Steve is staring at you, breathing heavily, his pupils blown and lips a bit swollen. You imagine you look similarly. He takes a step back, separately himself from where you’re still frozen against the wall.

“Yeah?” Steve calls, voice rougher than before.

“Are you decent?” a voice asks from the other side of the door, barely audible over the sound of the band currently on stage.

Steve looks like he’s fighting laughter, but he just shakes his head, back facing the doorway.

“Nope - you’re good,” he says, his eyes meeting yours again.

He doesn’t need to say it - the look he’s shooting your way is enough.

Not a word.

Robin enters, grinning.

“Hey, we were just going to - oh, hi.”

She’s spotted you, and you just know she has questions.

“Hey, Robin,” you say quietly. “I, uh - I was looking for the bathroom. Ended up in here - I was just telling Steve how much I liked your set.”

Robin beams. “Thanks! It’s fun to see that you came out - haven’t seen you at a gig in a while!”

You nod. “Oh, yeah - I’ve been trying to get myself out there more -”

Steve scoffs, and you want to slap him. If Robin notices, she doesn’t say anything.

“- but, um - I should go.”

Robin nods. 

“Yeah - I was just coming to find Steve, we’re all going to head to WT’s for a drink - uh, do you want to come?”

She’s probably just being polite. But, you shake your head vigorously.

“No, I’m good - sounds like it’s a band thing. I should get going anyway - I’ll catch the end of this set,” you say, gesturing towards the sound of the band on stage echoing from down the hall. You still haven’t made eye contact with Steve, not since Robin entered the room. So, you just give her a curt nod, and do everything in your power to head out the door without looking like you’re bolting.  You’re screwed.

author's note: thanks for your patience y'all! I'm going away to Ireland on a work trip for about 3 weeks starting tomorrow, so I'm hoping to do some writing while I'm there, but no promises! As always, reblogs and likes are appreciated!

[schrodingerspsycho]

Another Shot - Chapter 2

Pairing - Sam Carpenter x Reader

Warnings - Mentions of alcohol, addiction, weed

Word Count - 5.1k

Summary - (Some of) the truth comes out. Tensions rise between you and Sam.

Chapter 1

Help Palestine by clicking this link!🇵🇸

You couldn’t sleep. Of course, you couldn’t. Sam Carpenter was in New York City.

All the memories you’d tried so hard to repress had come flooding back in full force, washing over you like a tidal wave. It hurt more than you would’ve imagined. And that fucking look in her eyes. As if she had any right to be angry with you. It made your blood boil. God, you wished you could hate her.

But you couldn’t. Yes, the memories were bitter, but they were still oh-so-sweet. You wanted nothing more than to crawl back to that better time when she was by your side and you were happy, uncaring of how the broken glass cut your hands and knees along the way. Then you remembered that fucking face, and you knew you couldn’t do that either.

You groaned and rubbed your eyes, which still ached from crying, and rolled over to stare at the clock. It was four in the morning. You wanted a drink. How ironic, Sam made you want to drink.

Instead, you opted for the one vice you still allowed yourself; weed. You stepped onto the balcony as you lit up, pulling your blanket tight around your shoulders. Just a few hits to help you sleep, you told yourself. The high would pass before your shift started. And just this once, you let that be a lie.

Luckily, you had an afternoon shift, and the weed was completely out of your system by the time you clocked in. Not that anyone would have cared, you wouldn’t be the first person to show up to work high. But you didn’t want to risk it. You couldn’t lose this job. So you made an effort to push Sam far from your mind and man the counter with a smile on your face. And it would’ve worked too, if it weren’t for her meddling little sister.

“Hey, Tara!” you smiled when she walked in. She waved back, clearly distracted. You took no notice, turning back to the lobby to go about your business. But Tara stepped out in front of you, blocking your path and nearly making you drop the menus you were carrying. “Shit! What the hell, dude? Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you cried.

“I want to know what happened,” she said, ignoring you. “Sam wouldn’t tell me.”

You stared at her. “Are you serious? I told you to drop it.”

“You didn’t really think that was going to stop me, did you?”

You sighed. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, or maybe you were secretly dying to unload all the memories clogging your brain. And talking about your feelings was supposed to help, right? “If I tell you, you can never bring this up again, got it?”

“Got it.” She crossed her finger over her heart, excitement shining in her eyes. You hoped she wouldn’t regret asking for the truth.

“If you can get Jay to give us our breaks at the same time, I’ll tell you then.”

Tara nodded and rushed off to find your manager, finally leaving you in peace. Maybe after this, you would finally be able to put it all behind you. And if Sam didn’t want Tara to know… then perhaps you could relive it after all. Sure, it was petty. But after everything she’d put you through, you deserved to be a little petty.

Jay must’ve been in a good mood because he granted Tara’s request. She didn’t mention her sister again for the first half of the shift, choosing instead to gush about how Chad had surprised her by taking her out for breakfast that morning. You listened eagerly, glad to finally put a face to the name you’d heard so many times.

“He’s going to come in to have lunch with me tomorrow,” she smiled. “Are you working the morning shift? I want you to actually meet him. I think you’d get along.”

“Yeah, I’m working a double tomorrow. I look forward to it.”

“Yay!” she exclaimed, and you grinned back at her. She’d only been working at the diner for two weeks, and she’d already become one of your best friends. You hadn’t grown so close with someone so quickly since… well, you knew where she got her charm.

Your break time seemed to arrive faster than ever, and you steeled yourself for your unorthodox therapy session as you made your sandwich. Tara was watching you like a hawk as if she expected you to run away.

“You sure you wanna do this?” you asked her. “Last chance to change your mind.”

“You have to know that only makes me more desperate to hear this story.”

“Fine,” you sighed. You led her into the break room and shut the door, making sure no one would overhear. She gazed up at you, her eyes wide and serious now as you sat next to her on the couch.

“Take your time,” she said softly. You nodded in appreciation, and with a deep, shuddering breath, you began.

“We met through a Facebook group four years ago. It was for young people in Modesto who were trying to get sober. Like a support group, but without the stuffiness of AA.”

“Wait, when you say sober, you mean-”

“Alcoholics,” you nodded, a grim look on your face. “Some people were addicted to other things too, and we did what we could to help. Mostly cigarettes, like your sister. She’d weaned herself off the harder drugs by that point, thankfully. We would have meetings in coffee shops and cafes, and sometimes people would host at their apartments during the week. Then we would all go out to clubs or parties together on the weekend.”

Tara stared at you, bewildered. “What? How is that helpful?”

“It wasn’t. The idea was that we would do all our drinking in one night and stay sober the rest of the week, but there weren’t any professionals involved. Most people at least thought they wanted to get sober, but we all wanted to drink more. It was still better than getting hammered every night, but not by too much.” You swallowed, and your hands started fidgeting; one of your nervous habits. You hadn’t spoken this much about your alcohol problems in a long time. “Anyway, that’s how we met. I don’t remember which one of us joined the group first, it’s been such a long time. I mean, your sister was still using a fake ID to get booze back then!” You chuckled at the memory. “But we became friends pretty quickly. Then we realized our apartments were only a neighborhood away from each other, so we started going to meetings together. And after about a year of being friends, we started- well…”

“You started dating?”

You let out a hollow laugh. “God, no. She never would’ve made a commitment like that. She was kind of infamous for it, actually.” You took a swig of your soda, hoping to dowse the heat you felt rising in your cheeks. “But we were probably the closest thing to it. We were together just about every other night, we knew each other better than anyone, she knew I wasn’t seeing anyone else and after a while, she stopped seeing other people too. Pretty much all we would’ve had to do was say the words. But that was the problem. She never wanted to talk about anything real. Her past, her feelings, our relationship, nothing. I knew who she was, but I didn’t know anything about her. And believe me, when you drink with someone for that long, you get to know them really well. She knew how I felt about her, how much I cared for her, and she just wouldn’t reciprocate. But I told myself that being with her was enough. And maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. I don’t even remember.”

“Then what happened?” Tara asked, her voice small.

“About a year into us being… whatever we were, there was… an incident. We went out together, without the group, to a house party. That I invited her to. And we were having fun, y’know, drinking, dancing, just having a grand ol’ time. Then she asked me to go to the bar to get her another shot.” You ran your hand through your hair to try to quell the agitation bristling in your chest. “It took me two minutes to push through the crowd, get the drinks, and come back. Two minutes. But when I came back, she was… she was…” Angry tears welled up in your eyes, and you turned away from Tara. You hated that it still had such a hold on you, even after all this time.

Tara laid a shaking hand on your back and you let out a strangled sob. Why was this so fucking hard? You felt like you were back there, the pounding of your heart drowning out the loud music, your vision blurring, the taste of vodka burning your throat, and the feel of your stomach dropping down to hell.

“She was making out with someone else,” you croaked. Tara’s hand stilled, and from the corner of your eye, you saw her mouth open in a silent gasp. “It was some- some guy. Just a random, boring-ass guy. She didn’t even know his name. And when I asked her what the hell she was doing, she laughed. Like it was all just some big fucking joke.” Your fists were clenched, and you could feel your fingernails digging into your palms. Then the tears finally began to fall. “She told me we were nothing. That I meant nothing.”

“I… I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Tara breathed. You leaned back against the couch and wiped your eyes, chuckling in spite of yourself.

“We were both drunk and angry, so what happened next is kind of a blur. But we started shouting at each other, and I think I was crying. I don’t know. Then she slapped the drink out of my hand and spat in my face.”

“She what?” Tara uttered, appalled. You laughed again. It was a sinister sound, but Tara didn’t seem to notice and you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“That was actually the most normal thing she did that night,” you said, to Tara’s growing horror. “She’s an aggressive drunk, and it was far from the first time she’d spat at me. But she’d never done it as an insult before.”

“That’s disgusting,” Tara said. You finally turned to look at her.

“I want you to know, I’m not trying to make you think badly of your sister or anything. I think it’s great that you’re talking again, and I would never do anything to hurt your relationship. I’m just telling you my side of the story.”

“I know,” Tara assured you. “Thank you.”

You shook your head. “I’m not even upset that she didn’t feel the same way. I just wanted her to be happy, and we weren’t even together. But she just had to let me down in the cruelest way possible. She knew how much she was hurting me, and she did it anyway. With a smile on her face.”

“That’s fucking bullshit,” Tara grumbled, and you gave her a brief smile. “So what happened after that?”

“Well, I went home, and the next day I found out she had blocked me on everything. She even left the Facebook group. And the next thing I know, I hear she’s calling this guy her boyfriend and switched to a new shitty, minimum-wage job so she could work with him. She led me on for a whole year, then committed to him in one night. I lost my partner and my best friend at the same time. In two fucking minutes.”

You sat in silence for several moments, the conversation weighing heavily on both of you. When Tara finally spoke, her voice was thick with emotion.

“Thank you for telling me all of this. I know it wasn’t easy for you to relive it. I’m sorry she did that to you, and I’m sorry that I’ve brought it all back-”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you insisted. “She’s your sister, and you can’t help that I have a history with her. What happened with us- whatever happens with us- none of it is your fault.” She nodded, but the look in her eyes told you she didn’t believe it. “She told me about you, y’know.”

“She did?”

“Oh, yeah. I could never get her to talk about herself, but if you got enough alcohol in her, she wouldn’t shut up about her baby sister.” You grinned at Tara, and she smiled back. “You’re exactly the way she described you.”

“I’m gonna assume that’s a compliment,” she chuckled. Then her expression turned serious. “I really am sorry that she did that to you, Y/N. It’s… it’s horrible. But I can promise you, Sam’s changed. She’s sober now, and she’s reliable. She’s done so much work to be a better person. She would never do something like that now.”

You gave Tara a sad smile. “I’m happy to hear that, I really am. But I’m going to need her to prove that to me herself.”

“C’mon, Mindy, let’s go.”

“Can’t we just stay in our rooms? We won’t interrupt-”

“No.”

“She said she’d tell us later, let’s just give them some space.”

“Fine.”

Sam put down her book. The twins had been quietly doing their homework on the couch for the last hour, giving her a much-needed respite after the back-to-back six-hour shifts she’d worked at her two jobs today. But now their hushed voices roused her, drawing her from her room in time to see Tara ushering them out the door. “Hey, how was work?” she asked nervously. She didn’t like the serious look on Tara’s face.

“It was fine,” she said with a sigh. “We need to talk, Sam.”

Sam felt her heart rate spike, and her mouth went dry as her palms started to sweat. Truthfully, hearing those words from Tara was more terrifying than the five Ghostfaces she’d faced. She nodded numbly and took a seat at the kitchen table, following Tara’s lead.

“Y/N told me what happened between you two,” Tara began, and Sam’s breath hitched. She knew she should’ve expected this, but it caught her off guard all the same. “I don’t believe they would lie to me, but I have to ask… did you really cheat on them? After leading them on for a year?”

“Yes. I did.” Sam felt like crying. Having you as a reminder of her mistakes was bad enough, but now Tara was judging her too. She wanted to beg you both for forgiveness, but she knew she didn’t deserve it.

“Jesus, Sam,” Tara groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “That’s really shitty. Do you know how broken up Y/N still is about it?”

“I know. I’m so sorry, I-”

“I’m not mad at you, Sam.”

“You’re… you’re not?”

“No,” Tara said with a small smile. “I’ve forgiven you for worse. And I know you’ve changed. We don’t need to talk about what happened.”

“Then what do you want to talk about?”

Tara grinned. “Do you still love them?”

“What?” Sam stared at her, shocked. “Who-who said anything about love?”

“Okay, fine. Do you still like them?” she corrected, rolling her eyes.

Sam gaped at her as her cheeks started to burn. “It doesn’t matter how I feel. Y/N doesn’t want anything to do with me, and I need to respect that.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Did you see how they looked at me?” she deflected, beginning to sound choked up. “They hate me. And they have every right to.”

“They don’t hate you, Sam,” Tara said kindly, placing a comforting hand over her own. “Trust me. Yes, they’re hurt. Really hurt. But they wouldn’t be if they had moved on.”

“Or if I hadn’t cheated on them and treated them like shit,” Sam mumbled. She leaned against the table and put her head in her hand. Just like mom.

“I think you were wrong,” Tara said, ignoring her. “There is something you can do about it now.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?”

“You can apologize!” she smiled.

“You don’t really think it’s that simple, do you?” Sam scoffed. “Apologizing doesn’t just make things go away, Tara. Not something like this. It won’t mean anything.”

“Yes, it will,” she said softly. “It’ll show them that you’ve changed and that you know it was wrong to cheat on them. It’ll let them know that you’ll be a better person if you start talking again. I mean, sure, it’s not gonna fix everything right away, but it would be a start.”

Sam shook her head. “That’s not enough. It wouldn’t be enough.”

Tara sighed. “Will you at least answer my question?”

“What question?”

“Do you still have feelings for Y/N?”

Sam stood up abruptly and turned away from Tara. She ran her hands through her hair and took a deep breath. “Where did you send the twins off to?”

“Seriously, Sam? Are you really just going to ignore me?”

“I was thinking I could make spaghetti for dinner, does that sound good?”

Tara glared at her incredulously. “You are unbelievable,” she said, standing up and stomping toward her room. She slammed the door, and Sam stared at it for a long moment. Despite everything, Tara was an optimist, and Sam admired her for it. But two little words wouldn’t mean anything in the face of what she’d done to you. No matter how much she wished it could.

After telling Tara the truth, the rest of your shift had felt awkward, with both of you staying uncharacteristically silent when you weren’t talking to customers. But luckily, everything was back to normal the next morning. You had teased her for being a few minutes late, she teased you for always arriving early, and you passed the time by joking around like you always did. She once again asked Jay if you could take your breaks together, and he once again obliged.

“Dang, he must really like you,” you smiled at her. “He never would’ve said yes if I asked him.”

She shrugged. “I’m very likable.”

“Yeah, you are. Little manager’s pet.”

“Maybe I’ll ask him not to give you a break at all.”

“What, am I suddenly not good enough to meet your boyfriend?”

“No, I’m excited for you to meet him,” she grinned. “He’s excited to meet you, too.”

“Then it sounds like we’re all excited. It’s going to be a very exciting lunch break.”

“Oh, shut up,” she said, nudging you playfully as she went to make another pot of coffee. Usually, it was all the customers ordered at this time of day, which made the morning shifts more bearable. You were able to hang out and talk with each other while they finished their nearly forgotten homework and nursed their hangovers, frying up some eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns every now and then. It made the time fly, and soon Jay was calling you and Tara to go on break.

Chad arrived just as you finished making your food, announced by Tara’s squeal of delight. She ran to him and leapt into his arms, and he spun her around gleefully. The few customers in the lobby didn’t even look up from their phones.

“Y/N, get over here! I want you to actually meet Chad!” Tara called, beckoning you with her hand. You smiled and headed over, your tray of food in hand.

“Shouldn’t you let him order first?”

“No, it’s fine. He doesn’t need to eat,” she smirked. He gave her a look of feigned offense.

“Excuse you, I’m very hungry. I ate a very light breakfast so I would have room for an amazing lunch made by my beautiful girlfriend.”

“I’m not gonna make your food, I’m on break,” she said, turning to face him. “That was really stupid of you to not eat.”

“Well, then what did I come here for?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“You’re breaking my heart, you know that, Tara? You’re breaking your boyfriend’s heart.”

“Oh, please, you eat enough of my cooking at home,” she grinned, leaning in closer.

“Anyway, I’m Chad! It’s nice to meet you,” he smiled, looking up quickly when he remembered you were there. Tara blushed.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” you chuckled. “I’m Y/N. Tara’s told me a lot about you.”

“All good things, I hope?”

“Mostly.”

He grinned. “Well, I’m going to go order some food made by a stranger, and then I’ll join you.”

Tara stuck her tongue out at him as he left, and you followed her to the table where she had set her food. “Sorry about that,” she said sheepishly as you sat down.

“Don’t worry about it. You two are adorable.”

“Thanks,” she smiled.

After a few moments of eating in silence, Chad joined you once again. “Alright, where were we?” he asked, sliding into the booth next to Tara. You looked at his tray and smirked at her. He’d ordered exactly what she’d said he would.

“You were about to tell me about yourself,” you prompted. He smiled.

“Well, I’m Tara’s amazing boyfriend who’s known her since we were five, I’m studying sports medicine at Blackmore, I was the offensive lineman on my high school football team, Mindy is my twin sister, and my favorite Pokémon is Meganium. What else do you want to know?”

You laughed and Tara raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, that’s certainly an introduction,” you remarked.

“What? Those are important things to know about me!”

“They sure are, babe. You’re doing great,” Tara said, patting his arm.

“And you said you go to NYU, right? What are you studying?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t start until next year, but I’m going to study photography. I actually can’t wait to start classes, I’ve been saving up for it for years.”

“That’s really cool! What kind of photography do you do?”

“I want to study different kinds, but I love taking pictures of little moments in regular life. Like the little things that no one notices, the things that tell stories. Candid photography, I guess.”

“That sounds really interesting! I’d love to see some of your photos sometime.”

“Thanks! Yeah, Tara’s been wanting me to show her my portfolio.”

“And yet you keep denying me!” she accused.

“I’ve told you, they don’t look good on my tiny phone screen!” you replied. “I can’t exactly bring my laptop to work, can I?”

“I’m sure we can figure out a time when we can all see your amazing pictures,” Chad said, putting his arm around Tara.

“Yeah, maybe,” you mumbled, blushing a little at the praise. “It’s cool that you were able to go to the same college. And your sister, too. That must be really fun for you guys.”

“Yeah, we’re really lucky we found a place that has a good sports medicine program for me, a poli-sci program for Tara, and a film program for Mindy. Although, we probably would’ve gone to the same school no matter what. It’s important that we stick together. After all, we can’t split up-”

“Do not say it,” Tara scolded him.

“-the Core Four!”

Tara punched him in the chest and he swooped down to kiss her cheek.

“What is the Core Four?” you asked.

“Me, Tara, Mindy, and Sam! It’s what we call our little squad.”

“It’s what you call us,” Tara retorted. “He comes up with these stupid nicknames and doesn’t listen to us when we tell him they’re terrible.”

“Oh, c’mon, you secretly love my nicknames. Don’t you, Taradactyl?”

She looked appalled. “Yeah, that’s an immediate no.”

“But I thought you liked that one!”

“I absolutely do not. Get away from me.”

“Whatever. You like Core Four. You’ve said it.”

“I have not!”

“Yes you did, Sam told me,” he said smugly.

“Lies and slander.”

He stole one of her fries and she tried to shove him out of the booth, a goofy grin on her face. You couldn’t help but chuckle at their antics.

“You two are very entertaining,” you commented.

“Are you making fun of us?” Tara demanded, still grinning.

You put your hands up in surrender. “Not at all. Having a similar sense of humor is important in a relationship. You two seem perfect for each other.”

“Why, thank you, Y/N. I’m glad someone thinks so,” Chad said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you thought we were perfect for each other, then you would support my nicknames.”

“Oh, shut up,” she groaned, leaning back against him. He kissed the top of her head before turning back to you.

“Speaking of relationships, are you seeing anyone?”

“Nope,” you smiled. “I only moved here a couple of months ago, so I haven’t really had time to meet anybody.”

“Then we need to get on that!” he exclaimed. “We don’t want you to be lonely! I’m pretty sure we know someone your age who you’d get along with. What are you, twenty-four?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m twenty-five, and it’s rude to ask.”

“You’re absolutely right, it is rude. I’m sorry. But you know what, Tara’s sister is right around your age, and she’s single too! Her name is Sam, she’s the absolute coolest, and- hey, didn’t you say you knew her already?”

You shot Tara a look of disbelief, but she avoided your gaze. “I do know her. I was just talking to Tara about her yesterday. And you know what, I just remembered that Sam once showed me some of her baby pictures.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, she wouldn’t stop talking about you,” you said pointedly. “It’s all coming back to me now. Little baby Tara… in the bathtub…”

“Okay, okay! We’ll stop talking about Sam!” Tara cried, her face bright red. You smirked at her.

Shouldn’t have broken your promise, you thought. At least she had the decency to look guilty.

The conversation carried on normally after that, with you and Chad discussing your favorite action movies and comic books. Tara was right, you did get along well. As it turned out, he had already seen the movie you were looking forward to seeing this weekend on your rare Saturday off. Tara had to quiet him before he accidentally spoiled it in his excitement, but he gave it a rave review. It was enough to distract you from the fact that Sam was apparently single again, at least for a little while. And when Jay called you back to work and you bid your goodbyes to Chad, you decided that it had indeed been a very exciting lunch break.

Sam found herself spending her Saturday off at the movies. She hadn’t been to a theater in months for obvious reasons, but Tara knew she wanted to see the new comedy that came out this weekend and convinced her to go. She was anxious like she always was when she was out in public, but she was glad to be spending some quality time with her sister. Saturday matinees used to be their thing, and Tara still bounced on her heels while she waited for her popcorn like she did when she was little.

But something seemed off with her as they walked toward the theater. She kept glancing behind her as if she was looking for something. But before Sam could ask her what was wrong, Tara spun around and slammed into her.

“I think the popcorn needs more- fuck!”

Sam looked down to see the front of her hoodie covered in Tara’s soda.

“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry, Sam!”

“It’s okay,” she sighed. “It was an accident, I’ll be fine. At least it didn’t get on my jeans.”

“Here, I’ll take the popcorn and save our seats. You go get some napkins and clean yourself up,” she said, gazing up at her apologetically. Sam nodded and handed her the bucket.

She pulled the sticky hoodie over her head as she walked, thankful that she had worn a tank top underneath it. And the theater still had the heat on despite the warming weather outside, so she wouldn’t be cold. It was still shaping up to be a pretty good day.

But before she could reach for the napkins, a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you said as you looked up from your freshly buttered popcorn.

“Y/N.”

“Sam.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see a fucking movie, obviously,” you hissed. Sam rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“I should’ve known,” she mumbled, her gaze drifting to where Tara was spying on you from around the corner. Your eyes widened in realization.

“Dammit! That sneaky little- I never should’ve told her my weekend plans.”

“What the fuck did you just say about my sister?”

“Oh, you know damn well this isn’t about Tara! This is about us, and what you did- oh my god!” You had finally turned to look at her, and your eyes immediately went to her arms. Not because her biceps were even more muscular than you remembered, but because of the long, raised scars on her right shoulder and collarbone. Any anger you had been feeling dissipated, replaced with worry and a deep-seated need to protect. “What happened?” you asked softly, instinctively reaching out to comfort her. She flinched back, her eyes startled and scared, and you lowered your arm. She stayed silent, just standing frozen and staring at you like a lost puppy. It made your heart melt, just like it always did. “Sam, are you okay?”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” she snapped after a beat, her expression hardening back into the look of contempt you were starting to get used to. You glared right back at her.

“Fine. I don’t even know why I care,” you snarled. Her scowl faltered, but you just scoffed in disbelief and stomped away. That devilish woman may still have a cruel grip on your heart, but you wouldn’t let her see it.

“Hey, Y/N, I didn’t expect to see you here! How are you?” Tara called, running up to you. But you kept walking, your only response a look of disapproval and hurt.

“What the hell was that?” you heard her demand from Sam. “Why won’t you just apologize to them?”

“I told you, I can’t do that.”

Your vision blurred as you stepped out of earshot, her words hammering the final nail into the coffin of something that died long ago. You knew Tara meant well, but she’d taken it too far. You tried to focus on the movie as you entered the dark theater, but you knew no amount of explosions could save your ruined day.

All because of two minutes with Sam fucking Carpenter.

Taglist: @smut-religiously777

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 8

Hello! It does look like there is only one more chapter to write on Paper Hearts so yay!!! I'm not sure how much longer Sweet Home Indiana is but it's nearing it's end too.

Steve is never going to go to another party after this, Eddie gets book two of the Boy with a Bat, and they have a frank discussion about how Eddie gets paid for his less than legal side gig.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

trigger warning: homophobic language by an OC.

****

At least the swim team knew to how to throw a party. Lyle was hosting and even though his family wasn’t well off, not like Steve’s parents, there was still enough room for the whole team and a few of their friends to have a good time.

Granted there wasn’t any booze, not openly anyway, but there were ice chest after ice chest of canned sodas. And all kinds, too. Steve was on his third Coke and had already sussed out the dude with the beer and was working his way over.

Going right up to the guy was asking for trouble that neither of them wanted.

The music wasn’t too loud, but you could dance to it in the main part of the house. People were actually laughing and having fun.

Which really should have been Steve’s cue. The universe was out to get him and wouldn’t let him have a moment’s peace.

He had almost reached the guy with the beer when Ezra blocked his path.

“Hey, Steve,” he greeted syrupy sweet. “I’m so glad you made it out. I wasn’t sure if you would come without Eddie Munson.”

Steve frowned and tried to move around his co-captain. “I go lots of places without Eddie. I went to nationals without him, didn’t I?”

Ezra put his hand on Steve’s chest to stop him. “Sure you did, but we didn’t win nationals now, did we?”

Steve looked down at the hand on his chest. “We swam our hearts man, the other teams were just better. Hell, that team from Georgia was on fire.”

Ezra snorted and rolled his eyes. “They only got where they were because they were black. They didn’t have any real talent. Not like us. Not like you and me, Steve.”

“Are you saying Lyle and Nick held us back?” he asked with his brow furrowing deeper in his confusion.

“We’ve always known that Lyle is a strong swimmer and not a fast one,” Ezra moaned waving the drink in his other hand around. “But he’s all this shit town has on offer.”

Steve gently pushed Ezra off of him. “Hey, how about not talking shit about the actual host, man.”

Ezra rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he huffed. “That’s not even why I’m over here. I’m here to warn you about Munson.”

And there it was. Everyone in his life had felt the need at some point in the last six months to warn him off the super senior.

The other boy leaned in close, his lips a snarl. “He’s a queer, a little faggot boy,” he hissed, the spit landing on Steve’s face. “It’s the town’s worst kept secret.”

Ice slid down Steve’s spine. Oh shit. Of all the places he thought the other co-captain was going to go, that was not it. Drugs. DND. The ranting on table tops. All that slid away to sheer terror.

“And you better not bend over in the showers,” Ezra continued, “a pretty thing like you would just be his type.”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Wha–what do you mean?”

“Everyone knows that if you can’t pay for your weed,” Ezra sneered, “that he’s willing to take a blowjob as payment instead.” He leaned further into Steve’s space, so that they were almost touching, the stench of weed radiating off the other boy in waves. “I saw Harry Masters sucking him off for a gram of the good stuff.”

Steve stomach lurched and swooped, bile rising up in his throat. Harry Masters was on the baseball team. He was tall, good looking, with that devil may care charm of Rob Lowe. Looked like him, too.

“What he does or doesn’t do doesn’t effect me, man,” he said, trying to aim for nonchalant and missing by a mile.

Ezra laughed in his face.

“Dude,” he cackled, “if you didn’t want people to think you’re down bad for ‘the Freak’ maybe rein in the eye fucking. I’ve seen the way you look at him and it makes me sick.”

That was when Steve got it. He had been wondering what the hell this conversation was.

“Oh my god!” he laughed. “Fuck, man, you were scaring me for a second there. You’re just jealous I don’t have the hots for you.”

Ezra pushed him. “The fuck I do, Harrington!”

“No, no!” Steve crowed. “I’ve got it all figured it out. All the times I caught you staring at me, all the times I felt someone watching me, all the times you’d try to keep me late after practice. You wanted me all to yourself.”

His co-captain turned purple with rage and swung at Steve, but before he could even flinch, there was someone at his side, holding Ezra’s wrist to keep the hit from even going anywhere near Steve’s face.

“Eddie!” Steve breathed. “What are you doing here?”

Eddie smiled at him with that soft dimpled grin Steve loved. “Hey ya, Stevie. I was just plying my wares when I heard the commotion and came over to make sure you were all right.”

“So you are my good luck charm,” Steve said brightly.

Ezra wrenched his arm out of Eddie’s hand. “This doesn’t concern you, Freak!”

Eddie leaned in close and cocked his head to the side. “It does, because you were talking shit about me and Stevie, here. And as Stevie’s good friend, I’mma gonna come to his rescue. Now, you’re going to skedaddle on home and sleep all this off.”

Ezra spat in his face. “Or what?”

The older teen just smiled menacingly. “Or else that gram you smoked will be the last you ever smoke, because I’ll report to you for doping for matches.”

Ezra paled and he gulped. “You can’t do that! I’ve never done anything but weed.”

“That’s true,” Eddie admitted. “But they’d have to do this big investigation and your name would be dragged through the mud. Or you could toddle off and go to college and leave this town in your rearview mirror.”

Ezra turned on his heel and ran out of the house as if the hounds of hell were on his tail.

Steve shook his head. “You do know this is where all the allegations about you being a devil worshiping cult leader come from, right?”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “They can think all they want.”

*

Eddie and Steve talked about what Ezra had said about how people make payments for their weed.

“I won’t deny that people have offer to blow me or even have sex with me in exchange for drugs,” Eddie said as they lay curled up on his bed. “But I’ve never taken anybody up on that.”

Steve twisted his head to look up at his boyfriend. “I can’t say I’m not pleased to hear that, but is there a reason why?”

“Several,” he admitted pulling Steve in closer. “One is that there is an actual fucking pandemic going on regarding gay men, and I wouldn’t trust those assholes even with a condoms. Another is that if I say yes to one, then I’ve got to say yes to next guy. And as my supplier wants actual cash for his product, blow jobs aren’t currency in any country I know of. And despite what Ezra said, most of the people offering aren’t men.”

Steve hummed as he snuggled under Eddie’s chin. “I can see that. Any other reasons why you won’t?”

“Does having a super hot boyfriend count?” he chuckled.

Steve kissed the underside of his jaw. “That’s a very good reason.” His hand slipped down his boyfriend’s side and to his belt. “A super hot boyfriend who is very grateful for the rescue.”

Eddie moaned as Steve’s fingers ghosted over his zipper. “Yeah and how are you going to show that gratitude?”

Steve slid down Eddie body and undid his belt. “I was thinking it was such a shame you didn’t get those blow jobs when your cock is so delectable.”

Eddie gasped and threw back his head as his super hot boyfriend’s breath felt hot on the front of his boxers. “God, baby. Show me what you’ve got.”

And Steve spent their evening doing just that.

*

Steve fidgeted nervously at Eddie’s locker after school. He had finished the most recent comic with only a week of school to spare. He had made sure that Jonathan and Nancy weren’t staying after school for any reason so they didn’t see him make the hand off. He knew he should have just done it at the trailer, but with him cutting it so fine before the end of the year, he didn’t want to make Jeff and the others wait for it.

Eddie loped over to his boyfriend and looked around. “Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”

He thrust the comic at Eddie, his eyes downcast. “It’s the most recent comic. There’s an explanation like before. But please don’t let people see that part.”

Eddie cradled the comic to his chest. “I’ll be careful, I promise. I’m guessing this means you aren’t coming over tonight?”

Steve shook his head. “Lucas wants to go see the latest Bond film, but his friends don’t want to go with him...”

“So you offered to take him,” Eddie finished. “That’s sweet of you.”

Steve snorted and shook his head. “His parents think I’m taking him to ‘Meet the Littles’ or some shit like that.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Yeah, that’s more like the Steve Harrington I know and love.”

“I’ll call when I get home, though...” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair.

“Okay,” Eddie murmured. “Well talk then.”

*

This time Eddie went straight to the back page to read the explanation first.

“Hey, Eds,

Again there are parts in between this, parts that don’t include me, that I’ll some day tell you all about. But I’m focusing on the parts I was part of. This time it all started with what the kids thought was a new species of lizard and turned out to be the beginning stages of an Upside Down monster. One they they dubbed the demodog.

I can just picture you frowning as you try to remember where you heard that from and the answer is you heard it from me. You asked me what it was and I told you it from one of their game thingies, but that’s only part of it. These demodogs have flower faces and run on four legs. They are part of a hive mind that allows them to communicate with each other.

Dustin had taken one of these things home and it ate his cat. His cat. You can be disgusted, I know I was. He had originally gone to Nancy’s for help but she had gone off with Jonathan about something related to Barb Holland. This was right after our fight at the Halloween party.

I was on my way with roses to apologize to her, when he intercepted me. And the rest is as they say is history. I would do anything for that kid now.

The other players are Lucas Sinclair and Max Mayfield. I don’t know if you need to know that, but I feel like you have to understand that for the rest of it to make sense.

I have so many tales to tell you but I can’t because it could get you hurt and that is the last thing I want to do.

Also, (blurred words) show you all the times I was brave, that I did the (more blurred words) when it came (blurred words) because I love you so much and (blurred words again) less of me.

Love,

Your Stevie”

Eddie hated how easy Steve had pegged him for frowning at the name like he said he would or how he knew he would be disgusted at the poor cat. He stared at the blurred words for a moment before his own eyes welled up.

Steve had tried writing over the parts with what were clearly tear drops but all it had done was make it worse. Why he didn’t just write again, Eddie didn’t know.

But Eddie could now make out the words, “Also, I wanted to show you all the times I was brave, that I did the right thing when it came to it, because I love you so much and I didn’t want you thinking less of me.”

He flipped back to the beginning and started reading. It was thrilling and exciting. That was if you didn’t know it really happened. And happened to the sweetest boy he had the privilege of knowing.

He wiped away his tears and made a promise to whatever it took to protect this boy with every fiber of his being. Because by god, someone had to.

****

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson

@messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi

@val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89

@vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer

@yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

@angels-of-hades @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911 @birbsauce

@acingthecounts @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @kultiras @ravenfrog

[iwas-princess]

suna rintaro • cherry flavored

“here, your turn.” suna called, an outstretched hand presenting the one hitter in front of you.

you smile sweetly at him, a smile so sticky sweet that it nearly sickened him as you grabbed the slender cigarette-shaped hitter from his cold fingertips.

“thanks.” you mumbled as you put it up to your lips, the lighter following at the tip of it.

“you’re welcome.” he lightly mumbled after you smoothly, sarcasm behind his mannered words.

as you lit the ruby red plastic lighter, his eyes watched carefully with each movement you made, scoping you out like a predator. you were everything to him before you even knew it, if only he could muster up the courage to tell you.

his squinted eyes danced around your face slowly, like a intimate tango as you lit the lighter— his lighter.

he loved you.

his heart swelled with each breathe you took, his high becoming more intense with the anxiety you caused him. you were his entire being, his soul. everything he ever wanted was trumped by you, anything else that mattered melted away the moment suna saw you, all of his worried disappear.

except just one:

how much he loved you— his best friend’s baby sister.

he knew it was terribly wrong to corrupt you like this every night he stayed over, but he couldn’t help it. you were just so picture perfect and watching you take hits like a pro was so fucking exhilarating for him. the twins would freak if they ever found out what you two were up to, threaten suna and most likely stop being friends with him to protect you from… further dirty things that suna could offer.

but they weren’t going to found out, suna made extra sure of that.

you sucked in a hit quickly, your parted lips sucking in the flame and burning the freshly packed weed at the tip before smoke filled your lungs and mouth.

he watched in silent awe as you inhaled, then watched as you exhaled smoothly.

“good hit?” he asked deeply.

you smiled that sickeningly sweet smile again, and giggled out smoke.

“yeah. super good hit.”

“i’m glad, princess.” he chuckled, referring to you as your given nickname.

the same one your brothers called you.

“was that stuff new? i’ve never tasted that before.”

he grasped the one hitter from you gently, grazing  your soft hand briefly, causing sparks to erupt inside of him.

“yeah, my dealer got me some new shit. do you like it?”

the thought of you being displeased with anything enraged him, especially something of his. he would never buy from that dealer ever again if you didn’t like this stuff. he might even spread nasty rumors about them.

“yes, it’s… different.” you admitted.

“different?”

suna paused before pressed the one hitter again his lips and lighting the lighter. he copied your previous actions.

“yeah, it taste weird. but not ‘bad’ weird.”

he chuckled at you as he puffed out a cloud of smoke, turning away from you to avoid giving you an airful.

“you’re cute.” he honestly admitted.

you blushed ferociously at his lighthearted comment, heat rising on every piece of your skin.

“thanks.”

“want me to pack another one, princess?”

“s-sure. i can’t get too high though-“

“hush, i’ve got ya. if the boys come in, i’ll tell them that you went out with some friends and climbed through your window. i heard you talking to yourself in here so i checked on you.” he shrugged. “no big deal.”

you began to fidget with your comforter, playing with a stray seem.

“but, i don’t want to be alone. if i get really high, i’ll want you to stay with me all night.”

suna looked up from the weed tray.

“and that’s a bad thing?”

you stumbled out a reply, your face heating up more.

“n-no.”

he chuckled before packing another hit.

“i’m just teasing you. i wouldn’t mind spending the night in this princess bed.”

you let out a snort.

“princess bed’?”

“well, a princess does sleep in it. unless you sleep on the floor. you don’t sleep on the floor do you?”

you giggled again. this time it rang in suna’s ears minutes afterwards, the sound making his stomach twirl.

“no, rinnie. i sleep in my bed.”

his heart skipped a beat at the nickname you provided him. no one could call him rintarou except you. the name sounded angelic when you spoke of it, like an ancient poem.

“good, good.” he nodded frantically. “just checking.”

his sarcastic personality caused your heart to flutter as you giggled with him. you couldn’t stop yourself as you leaned over slightly, and squished his cheek gently.

“you’re so cute, rinnie.”

[leasstories]

Unexpected deal

Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Trigger warnings: Mention of weed

WC:  0.7K

Eddie can’t believe his eyes. He just got a note from his crush, you, in his locker. Okay, it is a business note, a note to buy from him, but he never imagined this day would come. You and Eddie run in different crowds: he is well… a freak and you are a theater kid as well as a goody two shoes. You wanting to buy weed is, to say the least, surprising, but Eddie would never pass on an opportunity to see you. The only thing that makes him nervous is that the meeting with you is in an hour. Eddie does not know he can psychologically prepare himself to face his crush alone.

Eddie noticed you the first time you set foot at Hawkins High and ever since, Eddie was head over heels. Eddie is usually a confident person, well except when it comes to you. You make him nervous, hence why he never got the courage to talk to you. But now, you are handing it to him on a silver platter, you initiated contact and Eddie needs to find a way to ask you out.

Eddie is so excited (but also nervous) that he goes to the meeting point thirty minutes early. Eddie sits at the picnic table in the woods and prepares a plastic baggie of weed for you when he gets an idea. He knows, he won’t be able to ask you out, at least not out loud. That’s how Eddie ended up taking a marker out of his metal lunchbox and started scribbling the following words on the plastic baggie: Want to go out on a date? Once it’s done, Eddie proudly smiles to himself.

About five minutes after the bell rang, Eddie hears leaves scrunching behind him. He turns around and sees you, shyly walking towards him. Eddie gets up and smiles at you.

“Hey!” he says.

“Hi,” you answer, waving shyly at him. Eddie can also see that you are nervous.

“Nothing to worry about Sweetheart.” He tells you reassuringly, as if he had read your mind.

“Sorry…” you say, looking down at your feet. “I just never did that…”

“Don’t worry. It’s okay. It is like any other sale.” Eddie starts. “Except no receipt and cash only. Uh… for obvious reasons.” Eddie continues.

You nod in answer. Truth is, you are not only nervous about the sale, Eddie himself is also making you nervous. You have had a crush on him for a while, and knowing he was the only dealer who sold to the Hawkins Hugh crowd almost dissuaded you from buying. Eddie cuts your train of thoughts.

“Before giving you anything, may I ask why you decided to buy weed?” Eddie curiously asks. Before it doesn’t seem like you and deep down, you, suddenly deciding to buy weed worried him a little.

“I have troubles sleeping and I heard that weed can help.” You tell him earnestly but still shy.

“It can help.” Eddie says truthfully.

“How much do I owe you?” you ask, taking your wallet out.

“Free sample.” Eddie answers, taking the baggie he prepared for you out of his metal lunchbox.

“Oh no, really I can pay.” You say, embarrassed.

“I insist, it’s on the house.” Eddie insists.

“Thank you.” You say, blushing.

Eddie tosses the plastic baggie of weed at you and waiting for your reaction to the words scribbled on the bag.

Eddie can see you blush as you read the words. You shyly sway from one foot to the other, shyly smiling and biting your lip.

“I- I’d really like that.” You answer quietly.

Eddie grins from ear to ear.

“Really?!” he exclaims a bit too loud.

“Really.” You confirm. “I really like the way you asked me out by the way.” You confess.

“I’m glad you did!” Eddie says, blushing.

“When?” you ask.

“Would tomorrow after class be fine?” Eddie nervously asks.

“Perfect.” You answer, still shy.

“That’s a date. Picking you up at Hawkins High, on the parking lot. I drive a van, the only van in the parking lot. Tomorrow after class.” Eddie says, smiling.

“See you tomorrow Eddie” you say with a smile and a small wave.

Once you left, Eddie fist bumps the air. Meanwhile, you walk towards your home, holding the plastic baggie close to your heart.

I HAVE GOT A DATE WITH EDDIE MUNSON! You think to yourself.

Taglist : @abellmunsonmovie

[abbyromanoff]

Daddy’s Smoker

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Word count: 2172

Warnings: smoking cigs, mentions of weed, strap sucking, strap on use, public sex, daddy kink, top!Nat, degrading, praising, nicknames, blowjobs (N receiving), stoner Nat, kinda college AU

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

The sound of beeping horns and tires running against the ground filled your ears. You could hear the loud engine of what you guessed was a motorcycle from four stories away. You sat on your girlfriends' lap, her arms laced tightly around you. Even with her strong arms that could bring anyone to the ground, it felt like a teddy bear holding you. Her cigarette smoke clouded up your mind and face, you blew it away with a swipe of your hand that caused her to chuckle. She knew you hated when she smoked, you knew the dangers and never wanted her to end up sick.

“Can you please blow that out already? It smells disgusting.” You coughed three times to be exact. You never liked having smoke near you, it was too risky to breathe it in and damage your own health.

“I have something else you can blow.” You rolled your eyes at her cheesy joke, turning your head to look at her. She smiled, clearly proud of her statement.

“What? Oh, c’mon, that was funny and you know it.” You brushed her off and rested your head in her neck, her soft red locks tickling your face. She kissed your cheek, leaving her lips to linger on the skin for just a moment. You enjoyed sweet moments like this where nothing else in the world mattered, not the bills that you needed to pay for your crappy apartment. Not the fact that you could barely even afford it. Only this, feeling your one true love holding you tightly yet softly and never letting go.

“It’s so nice out tonight, the breeze is fabulous,” Nat said. “I’m so glad we were able to watch the sunset tonight, it was beautiful.” You hummed in agreement, feeling the tiredness of the day catching up to you.

“But, I think there’s only one thing more beautiful than the sunset tonight; you.” You smiled, letting out a small laugh at her pickup line that she probably found off of Google.

“Very cute, Natty.” She hummed a medley into your skin, it sounded familiar but you couldn’t wrap your finger around it. She noticed the way you shivered and goosebumps erupted upon your skin. She lifted you up an inch, only to sit you back down onto her lap as you were now enwrapped in her leather jacket.

“Aren’t you cold?”

“Don’t worry about me, darling, I’ll be fine. Plus, you already warm my heart every second of every day.” She grabbed your hands, kissing the backs of them and smirking while admiring the small blush on your face that definitely wasn’t from the cold.

“Oh shut up!” You laughed out, moving in closer as she wrapped her arms around your shoulders and rested her head on top of yours. Your head rested on her neck once more, savoring the mixed smell of weed and cologne that laced her body. The table next to you held the cigarette tray already filled with ashes and buds of the disgustingly addicting taste.

“All those cars make so much noise. And that full moon is so distracting. The neighbors arguing again is so, so annoying and agitating. And no matter what’s happening around me, all I can think about is you. All I can see is you. All I can hear is you. All I can focus on is you. And all I want is you.” You could tell by the way she bit her lip that those sweet words weren’t the only thing she had on her mind. You moved your body so your nose brushed against hers, your arms wrapping around her neck as your legs did the same to her waist. She moved her hands down to your lower back, begging to dip them into your pants and squeeze the soft skin beneath them. Your center was placed directly above her own. When you lightly moved your hips, you could feel your favorite toy poking you. You hadn’t even realized that she was packing, only focusing on this sweet moment you got to share with your girlfriend.

“God, you’re so perfect. Your body is so gorgeous, fits perfectly in my hands. And these eyes, fuck I could stare into them all day. And as much as I’m trying to hold back, it’s so damn tempting to just slap this perfect ass of yours.” Her voice was a deep, breathy tone as she slowly moved you back and forth. She connected her lips with yours, letting your tongue swirl around and taste the tobacco flavor sitting in her mouth. She guided your pants off, the cooled air hitting your skin. The pretty pink panties you wore just for her were on display. She looked down, her forehead brushing against yours as she lipped the smirk covering her face.

“You wore these just for me, hm?” You nodded, hiding your nervousness to the best of your ability. She saw right past you.

“Hey, you’re so beautiful, doll. I think it’s so hot you wore these just for me. Were you waiting for me to get home in this?” Your nod confirmed her question. Her fingers traced your pantie line, going to rub your clit through the undergarments. You twitched in her hold, grasping her biceps and feeling the muscle clench.

“Why don’t you get down on your knees, darling.” You listened, rushing to get off of her and do as she said. You knew your knees would most likely be marked with bruises after this due to the cement beneath you. You longed for her fingers to touch you again, hoping she’d continue if you were good for her.

She ran the head of her faux cock against your lips, stuffing your mouth the second you opened them. You sucked on the tip as if she could actually feel it, nearly moaning at the way she threw her head back. Her hand ran through your hair, pulling you closer and making you choke and gag on her.

“That’s my good girl, so fucking sexy.” Tears ran down your face, being wiped away by Nat’s thumb. She admired the way you took her with care, leaving trails of spit behind. When she pulled you off, you chased back after her, missing the way she left a bulge in your throat and cheeks.

“You take me so well, darling, ‘m so proud of you.” You smiled at her praises. “Come here, let me make you feel good.” Before you could sit down on her lap, she stood up. She turned you around by your waist, bending you over the railing and running her hands along your back. You could see everyone from afar, all the cars and druggies crowding the streets.

“You like knowing that anyone could look up and see my girl slutting herself out for me? You think they’ll wanna watch? Watch the way you take me so well?” You shook your head, pushing yourself back into her and feeling her cock line up with your hole. You were dripping, your panties being ripped and thrown off to the side as she grew desperate. You wondered if it was the drugs in her system making her so hot and bothered but you loved it either way.

“Fuck, baby girl, I need you so bad.” She leaned over your body, catching a whiff of the shampoo she loved. She wrapped one hand around her strap, giving your neck a long peck to distract you from the painful stretch. You bit your lip, almost causing blood to trickle down your chin with how harshly your teeth sank into it.

“Nat!”

“That’s not my name, slut.” Her palm connected with your ass exactly four times, her eyes trailing down to watch the way a small red mark grew. She made a mental note to put some healing cream on that later.

“Fuck! I-I’m sorry.” The burning sensation was starting to pass as you focused on the pleasurable feeling of her filling you up. You wished she had a real dick so that she could actually fill you up with her cum, it was a fantasy you both shared. She dreamed of getting you pregnant and making you swallow her load. The thought alone of cumming inside of you over and over until you were dripping down your thighs made her soak her boxers. And the image of your throat being painted with her cum and dribbling down your lips or chin always made her so horny to the point she had to leave work just to catch her breath.

You felt the base hit your back legs, you’ve never taken this much. You knew she loved stretching you out, but she had always gone easy on you. Now, she was making you take her to the brim and it felt fucking amazing.

“God, this sweet pussy is taking me so well. You feel so good clenching around me, baby.” She knew how much you loved it when she acted like she could actually feel it, like she could feel the way your warmth invaded her senses.

“C-can I move now?”

“God, yes! Please, please fuck me, daddy.” Hearing the title you gave her made her groan, leaning herself back up and holding your waist as she started a slow yet hard pace. It took everything she had inside her to not ruin you right then and there. She let you get used to her length before speeding up.

“Look at you, my perfect little slut getting bent over and fucked by daddy. I bet you don’t even care that anyone could see you like this. You like it, don’t you?” Your mouth shot open, forming an O shape. Your eyelids closed shut as your vision went black, your mind becoming filled with thoughts of your girlfriend. You couldn’t stop thinking about what she would do to you. How her fingers would feel inside of you or on you. The way she’d moan into your mouth when you rode her. The way the strap brushed against her clit just perfectly to make her cum for you. Everything about her just made you get closer and closer to the edge.

She couldn’t hold back, it was too tempting to just ruin you completely in that moment. Her hand made its way to your clit, rubbing the bud at an unimaginable speed, making you squirm in her strong grip. She wasn’t going to let go of you anytime soon, she wanted you to break in her arms. She wanted to watch as you lost control and came for her.

“Baby girl, I don’t think I can go much longer. ‘M gonna cum for you, I want you to make a mess all over daddy’s cock, okay? You gonna make daddy proud and cum for her?” There wasn’t any room to deny her, you knew you were close. It felt too good having her inside of you like this, her cock traveling deep in your tight hole to make you feel ungodly amounts of pleasure.

“Please, daddy, gonna cum! Daddy feels so good, I need to cum, please!” Your body spasmed as you finally let yourself go, squirting all over her hand and cock. Her fingers didn’t stop toying with your clit, even when you finished.

“That’s it, good girl, baby. Such a beautiful girl for daddy, making such a mess all over me.” She had reached the edge, cumming with you and throwing her head back as she escaped the awfulness of reality and joined the world of pleasure.

“Fuck, you like when daddy cums for you? You like knowing how turned on she gets from this sweet pussy and this perfect body?” Each word was jagged and mumbled as her ability to form a complete sentence left. You weren’t any better, your body was filled with the sweet aroma of your girlfriend, nothing more and nothing less. She could feel the warmth coming off of your body, it was as if you were a burning candle in the cold night. You both have forgotten all about the view, the fact that anyone could see you right here and right now. She was a naturally jealous and possessive person, but the image of anyone being able to see you being fucked out and used by her was the best feeling. She wanted everyone to know you were hers, and she’d do anything to prove that.

“You’re my precious girl, you got that? My only girl, my only true love. Now, why don’t you have a little smoke? It will make you feel so good, I promise.” The tip of her cigarette poked at your lips, begging to be held by them. You let her, opening your mouth slightly to take a small drag and almost immediately feeling the smoke travel down your body.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, now was it? I knew you would’ve given in eventually, all it took was some convincing and I had you smoking just like your daddy.”

[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

chapter six: remember when

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 7.3k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced/virgin reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), polite southern manners (use of sir & ma’am), feeling familial and self-pressure, undefined relationship, mutual masturbation, voyuerism, dirty talk, likely poor spanish grammar, pining joel

One month. Four weeks. Thirty days. 720 hours. 43,200 minutes. 2,592,000 seconds.

No matter what you convert the time to, it doesn’t change the bone-deep ache that you have felt since you found out your start date for your new job in Boston. No matter how you frame it, you will still be living next to Joel for that long before you can put thousands of miles between you two and hopefully, hopefully, have the space you need to get over him.

Three hours and a few hundred miles was not enough. All year you itched to dial his number, to message him, to come to visit your parents for the weekend to catch a glimpse of him or even a short conversation about the weather or the neighborhood.

It was getting pathetic at a certain point, so you deleted his number.

Of course, not before scratching it into a Post-It note that lives in your wallet now.

You knew yourself too well to think that you wouldn’t want it, or need it, one day.

The temptation to reach out grew like a weed the closer it got to move-out day. Maybe he would want to hear from you that you’ll be home, even for a short while, you thought. Sure, your parents have probably mentioned it in passing by now, but is he hurt that you didn’t tell him yourself?

Who are you kidding? He never called, never messaged. Never answered when you did. That night at his house was the last you heard from him.

There were small updates about Sarah from your mom, and mentions of Joel coming over to watch a Texans game from your dad. Whenever you heard his name, your stomach lurched as if jerking back like a sudden, harsh break in a car. Palms sweaty, mind weighed with memories of your summer with him, all of it crashing down into the same heartbreak you felt that final night.

How could he do that after you told him you loved him?

He never said he didn’t feel the same way.

“You alright there, Kiddo? Spaced out there for a good while,” your dad is sitting across from you on the deck, empty dinner plates in front of you while your mom ran inside to grab dessert, “Something on your mind?”

Your vision focuses again, your practiced smile stretching across your face as you nod.

“I’m good, Dad. Just tired from the drive today. And glad to be home, even for a bit.”

“We’re really happy you wanted to stay at home for a bit, too. And I wanna say how proud of you we are, sweet pea. Always knew you were gonna go off somewhere that moves just as fast as you do,” he beams at you, a glistening in his eyes before he turns away, nodding towards the Miller house.

“You heard anything from Joel about babysittin’ while you’re in town? That little Sarah of his asks about you just about every time we see her.”

That pulls a genuine smile to your face, smoothing over the cracks in your heart as the early summer heat relaxes your muscles. Truth is, you would 100% nanny Sarah again if Joel needed the help. She became like a little best friend of yours after spending nearly every day of the summer last year with her. You missed her probably as much as you missed Joel while you were away.

“He hasn’t asked me, but I haven’t seen him since getting back this afternoon. Maybe I’ll try to catch him tomorrow when he gets off work.”

“Oh! Y’know what? He’s gonna be coming over here tomorrow night, you could catch up with little Sarah then. I mentioned you coming home and got to talkin’ to him about all the flowers and vegetables you planted last year and how those damn rabbits kept gettin’ at them, so he offered to come over and help me build some raised beds for you to replant everything in, sweet pea.”

“Joel offered to do that? You’re not paying him?”

“Nope, not a cent. I offered about ten times and he refused each one. Nice guy, that Miller.”

“Yeah…yeah he is a nice guy.”

The rest of the evening you spend on the deck with your parents, talking about what’s been happening in the neighborhood and with family friends. Your brother is meant to be back home at the weekend, having one more final to take at the end of the week before he can fly home for the summer. Once your mom and dad have resigned for the night, you sit out a bit longer and stargaze, enthralled with the vast night sky and shining moon.

It’ll be the same moon you see when you’re a couple of thousand miles away, but it won’t ever be as decorated with stars as you can see now.

The moon and stars aren’t the only things that you think about as you sit under the midnight sky. The conversation with your dad comes back around, replaying the short moment when he said Joel wanted to do something for you, free of charge.

Sure, he might have thought it the neighborly thing to do, but you can’t help but smile at the thought that Joel volunteered himself to do it. Maybe he wanted to see you as much as you wanted to see him.

Nothing could come of this summer though, of this month, even if there were still sparks between you two. You were leaving. Unsure of when you were going to be back. There were no Spring Breaks or Thanksgiving weeks off you could plan for, and your parents had already decided this year’s Christmas was to be spent at your grandparents’ in Wisconsin. You had no plans to be back home soon after moving, and even if you did, a long distance that far rarely works out.

He didn’t even want to make a go of it when you were at school, why would he try when you’re contracted there for at least a year, likely going to be much longer as you gain the experience you craved of being away from Austin and living a big city life?

Unfurling yourself from the deck chair, you shuffle inside and upstairs quietly; the door closes with a soft click behind you, and relief percolates through your body as your eyes adjust to the golden lamplight of your bedroom. There are boxes of your things from school around, not to be unpacked until they’re moved across the country to the Northeast. Your suitcase is flung open on the ground, clothes rummaged through to find something fresh to wear after your shower earlier that day. You approach the luggage again, culling through the mess of fabric to find something to wear to sleep.

Turning toward your bed to climb in, a light in Joel’s window across the way catches your eye. Being back in your room, staring at the single-lit window of the Miller home, crumbles the resolve you had been grasping onto. Memories of waiting for him to retire to his room every night before that first kiss. The image of him standing at the window after he had made you come the first time while you watched him work his fist in quick strokes. His face as he came, playing over and over in your brain with his handprint breaking up the foggy glass. Aching desire heats your core, arousal flooding between your thighs as your body begs for something, anything to relieve itself.

You climb in bed, touching yourself to the thought of him, of your Joel from last summer, picturing him with his head between your legs or his steady, hard thrusts that you branded into your brain. Laid out on top of your bedding, your fingers circle around your clit and spread your wetness on your fingers, and you’re reminded of each time you have found yourself in this position before. This had been the scene in your college bedroom frequently, picturing Joel over you, under you. When you were brave, or drunk enough, to have hookups this year, you caught yourself drifting to the image of him when you closed your eyes. It never felt the same as with him, never as full, never as satisfying.

And at this moment, your fingers thrusting in and out of you weren’t coming even close to any touch of Joel’s on you.

Little did you know, once you settled on your bed and closed your eyes to attempt to see and hear and feel him, Joel came back from grabbing a glass of water downstairs and glanced out his window when he saw a new light on that wasn’t there minutes ago.

His gaze trained on the sliver of you through the opening of your sheer curtains, bare legs with your t-shirt pulled up over your braless chest, and hand beyond the waistband of your underwear. He nearly drops the glass at the sight, his boxers beginning to tent as his blood rushes down. Rolling his shoulders back, he tries to alleviate the tightness that grips them, his arm coming down too quickly and forcefully setting the glass next to his bed. The amp clicks off to cloak him in darkness, to disguise himself as he finds his usual spot from last summer sitting in front of the window with the perfect view of you. Tugging his boxers down just enough to free his stiffening cock, he spits lewdly on his hand, wasting no time with the view he’d got — that he has been dreaming of having again. He fucks himself with his fist, attempting to keep the pace he sees your hand moving at and talking to himself as he has before when he sits in bed thinking about you with his hand around his dick.

The sensation isn’t anywhere close to what he remembers of you, how he felt like you were made as a flawless match for him to fit into. Never had it felt like it did with you last summer, even the one time he had you completely and unabashed was enough to ruin him for the whole time you were away. Nights off on the weekends, while Sarah was at her mom’s, he’d go out with Tommy or some old friends from work. Women would chat him up, he had no idea what they saw in him, but it happened. And no matter how forward they were with him, he could never bring himself to close the deal. No one had been in his bed since you’d stayed the night, no one else had touched him since you.

And with you back, only a mere fifty feet away pleasuring yourself, he was reminded exactly why no one lived up to you. Watching your face as you worked yourself up to bliss, your soft, curved body laid out for him to devour, even without you knowing.

Maybe you did know. You did last year.

He’s brought himself close, so fucking close but he waits, holding out until he sees that face that occupied his mind every time he found himself in this same position.

Filth flows out of his mouth with an attempt to read your lips as they move along with your hand in your panties.

“Missed seein’ you so much, pretty girl. Look so good laid out on your bed…”

None the wiser to what the other was saying, the two of you were talking as if you were together while you both touched yourselves to the image of each other.

“Oh my god, Joel…Missed you so much fucking much…”

“Remember what I did the last time we were in that bed? Had you coming on my fingers, all over my mouth.”

“Thought about you all the time, Joel. Every time I touched myself, even when someone else touched me.”

“Such a naughty girl. Eres una chica muy mala (You are a very naughty girl). Mi diablita…Fuck, got me so fuckin’ close watching you, darlin’.”

“Never felt as good as it did with you…I was fucking pissed that you made my first time that fucking good. Set the bar way too high…”

“Never goin’ to forget those sweet little sounds you made for me. Es música para mis oídos incluso ahora, mi Mariposa. (It is music to my ears even now, my butterfly.)”

“Fuckfuckfuck, please, Joel. Please let me come…”

“Are you going to be my polite Southern belle like last summer? Gonna ask for things nicely if I get to touch you again? You know what that does to me, Mariposa.”

“Please, please may I come, sir?”

“Dámelo, dámelo. Carajo! Podrías por favor acabarme adentro? Por favor, mi cielito? (Give it to me, give it to me. Fuck! Will you please let me come inside? Please, my little heaven?)”

Joel’s head rolls back once he watches your body seize up, your own jaw falling open as you moan. With both yours and his own window open, he can hear the faintest echo of you finishing, and he swears he hears his name mixed into the sounds. His eyes squeeze shut as his cock twitches in his hand, ropes of his warm come coating his fingers as he slows his strokes and catches his breath.

As his head falls forward, he sees you sit up on your bed and glance his way, heart rate immediately picking up again as he sees a pout on your lips.

He really fucking missed you. And you’re leaving again. Across the country.

This month, he wants to spend every second he can get with you. He just hopes that you feel the same way.

The day after, he spent every minute from when he got home til the sun went down helping your dad build the raised garden beds. You had one conversation that was barely a couple of minutes, thankfully alone, before Sarah pulled your attention away and your dad dragged Joel down from the deck to the yard.

“Hey, Joel. Nice to see you again.”

He was pretty sure it was only a nicety that you greeted him, your voice smooth and higher-pitched than you normally talk around him, like the one you use around your elderly neighbors or when he’s seen you on the phone with people outside of your family. It stings a bit, that you’ve put up that wall again around him.

“Glad to have you back, Mariposa. How’ve you been?”

Your gaze darts from him to your feet when he uses your nickname. Arms crossed over your chest, bottom lip worked with your teeth.

He desperately wants to reach out and run his thumb to release your lip, to use his hands to wrap your arms around him.

“Fine, yeah. Been fine…um, how about you? How are you and Sarah?”

“Sarah’s been great. School was good for her this year. No problems with other kids like before, made some new friends. Her report cards were filled with ‘a pleasure to have in class.’ Only got one ‘sometimes is a distraction to other students.’”

Your laugh lifts the corners of his mouth into a genuine smile. God, he missed that sound.

“I can definitely relate to getting those remarks. She’s much more social than I was though, so I can't say I ever got ‘is a distraction’.”

“She is quite the talkative little one, definitely doesn’t get it from me.”

“Definitely not. She’s got your sense of humor though,” you remark as you knock your closed fist gently against his shoulder, dropping it back towards you when his own hand catches it. He holds it in his for a moment, unfurling your fingers to hook your index with his.

“How’re really doin’, Mariposa?” His finger squeezes yours, looking up from your hands loosely joined to meet your eyes.

It’s quiet for a moment; he watches as you search his face, mouth downturned into a soft pout.

“I guess it’s a little — I don’t know…How are you doing really?”

He laughs sadly, shaking his head as he replies lowly, “Haven’t been great, I’ll be honest. I mean, myself. Work’s picked up — I hired a couple more people ‘sides Tommy. Sarah is doing awesome. Should be over the moon…But, just feel like something’s missin’.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I really—”

You get cut off when Sarah rushes out from inside with your mom on her tail. Joel drops your finger from his, standing up straighter and grinning when Sarah runs right over to you. She pulls you away from Joel, talking your ear off about the school year. The reunion of you two warms his heart, but there’s that aching feeling in his chest still as his thoughts spiral about what you were going to say.

That winding path of thought continued the whole build, glancing over his shoulder every so often to look at you playing happily with Sarah.

After that night, he found little ways to attempt to get you alone again, every time interrupted.

He’d wandered over one evening when you were replanting everything into the garden beds, about to call out to you when your mom came down from the deck to help you out. He was already halfway between your yard and his, so he had to commit to walking over and making small talk about summer produce.

Another time, at the weekend, he’d been spending the afternoon sitting out on his own deck, waiting for Tommy to come over to grill out. Sarah was at her mom’s, so it was only him at home. You were laid out on the hammock in the grassy area of your garden, half in the sun and half in the shade as you swayed side to side slowly. There was a book in your hands, he couldn’t quite make out the title, but when you walked inside, leaving your book to come back for, he’d hopped up quickly and plucked a wildflower from his freshly mulched beds, laying it over your novel and taking note of what you were reading. He’d awkwardly waited a few moments for you to return, but before you could, he heard Tommy pull into his driveway.

The next day on his way to work, he made a stop after dropping off Sarah at the bookstore to pick up his own copy of what you were reading.

The latest time he tried and failed to get you alone was arguably the closest he came to having another conversation with you and arguably the most adorable interruption.

Joel had spent an afternoon hanging a tire swing for Sarah in the backyard while she was out with her Uncle Tommy. It was a surprise for her, something she had been begging for since seeing it in one of the shows she was watching these days. As Joel was finishing up, you walked down the stairs and waved at him on his ladder next to the tree. He called out to you with your name, asking you to come over to help with a favor.

You made your way across the lawns, smiling growing when the tire swing comes into full view.

“You did this yourself? I would have helped you.”

Joel chuckled as he climbed down the ladder and met you next to the swing, a playfully creased brow looking at you incredulously.

“Darlin’, you are very sweet but gotta be honest with you — I think I would end up doin’ it all myself anyways.”

You feign offense, a hand up to your chest as you gasp, “That is so not true! I would help. You would be the control freak you are and not let me do anything.”

His eyes narrow at you as you look at him smugly, shaking his head as he breaks into a quiet laugh again.

“Got me there,” he pats the rubber of the tire, nodding his head toward it, “I’m asking for your help now. Gotta test this thing, you wanna try it?”

“And break my neck potentially?”

“Oh, c’mon. Thought you would wanna be a part of the fun,” he grins and looks at the swing before turning back to you, “Does this make you feel better about swinging on it?”

Joel climbs onto the bottom end of the round tire, feet holding himself up and bouncing his knees to test the strength of the knot and rope.

“Actually, yes. Move it, Miller.”

He happily gets off of the swing, offering you a hand to help you up. You slide toward the side he’s standing on, his hands reaching out quickly to hold your thigh steady and push you back up the swing. His touch lingers on your smooth skin, fingertips dancing along and creating goosebumps in their wake. Finally, he brings his hand to your hip and meets your eyes, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Y’know what we were talkin’ about the other day?”

“Yeah? You mean when I was asking how you were doing?”

“Mhmm…I, um, I wanted to tell you that I missed you. And I know it’s really fucking selfish to say it cause I’m the one that asked to leave it all behind at the end of the summer but…I really missed you, mi Mariposa.”

“Joel, I—I don’t really know what to say. I did mi—”

“Daddy! Is that a tire swing? That’s so cool!”

Sarah speeds down the steps and across the grass to the tree in the corner of the lot. Joel’s hands leave you to scoop her up and sit her on his hip, easily carrying her despite how much she’s growing.

“It is indeed. All for you, Bug,” he smiles widely, nodding toward it with you still sitting there, “You wanna try it with Mariposa, mija?”

“Yes! Yes, please!” Sarah reaches out for the rope and Joel sets her on your lap facing you. Sarah wraps her legs around you, holding tightly onto the rope. You look at Joel, the faintest smile tugging at your lips over the interruption as Sarah looks back over her shoulder, grinning wildly.

“Give us a push, Daddy!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says with a salute and a chuckle. Placed on either side of your thighs where you’re sat on the swing, Joel’s fingers brush against your exposed skin and the hem of your frayed denim shorts. He watches as goosebumps raise on your skin, biting back a smirk as he starts to walk the swing forward with a push, jumping out of the way as he lets go. Sarah giggles loudly and you laugh along with her, throwing your head back as the breeze rustles the leaves above you, rays of soft evening sunshine peeking through the branches and dancing across the two of you.

It is an absolute vision, seeing his two favorite girls having fun together, and it’s an interruption he was glad to have.

“Sarah, mija, we live in Texas. Disney World is about eighteen hours away, even if we did leave right this minute it would take a very long time to get there. And I have to work, Bug. Maybe we can plan something for next year, alright? ” Joel is crouched in front of Sarah, her brows knitted together and arms crossed with an angry pout on her face.

“But Emily’s family is going today and we wanted to go together! Next year is so far away,” she whines with a stomp of her foot, and Joel resigns with a sigh.

“I understand that you wanted to go when Emily was going. But we can’t just pick up and go, Bug. Takes a lot of planning — I would have to find us someplace to sleep, get tickets, pack up suitcases for us. I can’t do it in one day by myself, mija. I promise I will take you,” he brushes her curls out of her face and gives her an apologetic smile, “How about I plan a trip to the beach for us for the end of summer? That would be fun, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t wanna go to the beach! We go all the time, I wanna go to Disney! And see Mickey and Minnie and Ariel and Jasmine.”

“Well, I’m sorry, mija, but it can’t happen this summer.”

Sarah stomps again, turning on her heel and running upstairs as she shouts behind her, “That’s not fair! You’re being mean, Daddy!”

Her tiny frame pushes hard to slam her door close. Joel stays at the bottom of the stairs, rubbing his hands over his face with a deep sigh. He hates disappointing his daughter, but there is no way he could swing a trip this summer. With business picking up, he needs to be around more than ever. It would be a struggle to take time off to go to the beach even, but he makes a note to plan for something at the end of the summer to get some time with Sarah before the school year.

He returns to the kitchen, continuing to clean up from lunch and making the grocery list to get the shopping done tomorrow morning. It’s been about thirty minutes of Sarah moping in her room, and he decides to attempt to mend the rift with a promise of ice cream later tonight after dinner.

Joel climbs the stairs and knocks on Sarah’s door, calling out for her, “Mija? Can I come in?”

Silence.

She must still be upset if she’s ignoring him.

“I’m sorry we can’t go to Disney, Bug…I’m gonna come in, okay?” He twists the knob and pushes the door open, eyes finding her bed where he expected her to be laying. She’s not there.

His eyes comb the rest of her room, and she’s not anywhere.

Inside his chest, his heart rate starts to pick up in a simmering panic. Moving quickly, he checks under her bed and in the closet, two of her hide-and-seek spots. Nothing again.

“Sarah? Where are you, mija?”

He continues to call out her name as he searches upstairs in his own room, the guest room, and the bathroom.

She is nowhere.

And she’s not anywhere in the rest of the house either.

He is officially in a full-on panic now, reaching for his cell phone in his pocket and dialing Tommy’s number, asking him to come over and help him find her.

He can’t bear to wait as long as it takes Tommy to get over to the house, and he knows he needs help with the way his brain is going to the worst-case scenario. He attempts to take deep breaths to calm himself as he grabs his keys and slips on his shoes, jogging across his front lawn and to your front door. He knocks and rings the bell, hands shaking with worry as he prays that you’re home and that you answer the door.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming. Christ, who the hell is ringing the bell like that?” you grumble to yourself as you pad across the tile in the entryway, brushing your hair back behind your ears and unlocking the deadbolt to pull the door open.

On your porch is Joel who turns at the sound of the threshold opening, eyes filled with dreadful frenzy. His foot taps quickly on the wood underneath it, keys jingling in his hands as he shakes all over.

“Hey, Joel. What’s going on?” Your eyes softened with concern, standing up straight as you wait for his answer.

“Have you, um, have you seen Sarah? She was just at home with me twenty minutes ago, but she wasn’t happy with me telling her we couldn’t go to Disney today to meet her friend’s family so she went up to her room and when I went to go check on her, she wasn’t there and wasn’t anywhere in the house and—”

Reaching out your hand, you squeeze his bicep to cut him off. Your hand rubs up and down as you speak calmly.

“It’s alright. We’ll find her. Gimme two seconds, just gotta go shut off the oven and get some shoes on, okay?”

“Okay, yeah. Thank you.”

You give his arm a gentle pat and nod shortly, a tight but comforting smile on your face.

“Don’t worry. She’s around here, and we’ll find her in no time.”

He nods over and over as if trying to let the words sink in. You feel tethered to him, painfully pulling away from him in this state to run to the back of the house and shut off the oven, taking out the banana bread you were making. Running back up front, you slip into sandals and grab your keys off the table in the entry, closing the door behind you. You lay a hand on Joel’s shoulder, rubbing slow circles as you lay out a plan with him.

“I can start walking through yards to see if I can spot her. Do you wanna stay at home in case she comes back?”

“No, no, Tommy’s on his way over, he can wait there when he gets here. I don’t think I could just sit there right now,” his hands move up to cover his face, pulling down on the skin as he curses to himself.

“Joel, hey, it’s okay. It’ll be alright,” you squeeze your arms around him in a brief hug, standing back and pulling his hands from his face to look him in his glossy eyes.

“Think you can drive right now?” he nods in response before you continue, “Alright, you hop in your truck. Start driving all the streets in the neighborhood. I’ll walk everyone’s backyards to see if she slipped into anyone’s gardens or something, okay? Sound like a plan?”

“Yeah, yeah. I can do that,” he nods repeatedly again, standing frozen on your porch out of fear. You walk him over to his car, waiting in his driveway as he reverses out, pulling away down the street and driving at a snail’s pace while he moves his head back and forth to search for her.

Starting with your neighbor’s house on the other side of the Millers’, you stalk through the yards, calling out Sarah’s name and asking anyone who’s outside if they’ve seen her. You’ve made an entire loop in another thirty minutes through your street and the immediately surrounding streets, with no sight of Sarah. You make your way back towards your own house to start another loop, popping into your backyard on the off chance she made it there without you noticing during your search.

Next to the flowers in your raised beds, you see a mop of kinky curls and a bright blue t-shirt with a Rocket Power backpack slung over her shoulders. Relief settles in your stomach and you immediately pull out your phone, dialing the number you had added back into your contacts after that first conversation with him this summer.

“Hey, did you find her?” It’s the fastest he’s ever spoken to you, and it makes your heart rate pick up again with the amount of alarm that is laced in his voice.

You speak calmly, trying to placate any more anxiety, “Looking at her as we speak. She’s in my backyard. I’ll keep her here until you get back.”

He gives you another thank you before hanging up, your cell phone returned to your pocket as you walk over to the youngest Miller.

“Hey, Sare-Bear. What’re you doing out here, sweet pea?” You approach her with a genuine smile, kneeling down next to her as she stands at the boxes her dad built for you. His small fingers brush over some flowering buds, shrugging and looking over at you.

“Hi, Posey. I wanted to come and see your pretty flowers,” you reach a hand up and rub her back soothingly, nodding slowly in understanding.

“They are pretty, aren’t they? Your dad was so kind to build these for me so that the bunnies don’t eat them all,” you look over at her, her own stare still focused on the plants in front of her, “Does your dad know you came over here, Sarah?”

She looks over at you quickly, guilt painted across her face. She shakes her head in a silent answer, and you nod back.

“I figured…He told me you ran away after you got upset. What happened, sweet pea?” you maneuver to sit cross-legged on the grass, and Sarah immediately sits in your lap still facing the flower beds. She shrugs and plays with the bracelet on your wrist before answering.

“My best friend Emily is at Disney World with her family and I asked Daddy if we could go today to meet them cause I really wanna go with her. He said we couldn’t and that I would have to wait until next year to go to Disney,” she pouts and curls up into you, reaching to pull out a blade of grass from the ground to toy with in her hands.

Your arms wrap around her and rub her back, “That is really frustrating. I understand why you got upset, sweet pea. Sometimes it really stinks that you can’t do everything your friends do. But, if there’s one thing I know about your dad, is that he would do anything for you that he could. It would be really tough for him to take off work so last minute and be able to get you guys there. He would do it if he could, Sare-Bear. I know he would.”

“And if you two plan a trip for next summer, your dad can make sure you get to go all the places in the park you wanna go. And he could find a hotel with a pool. Oh, and you could make a plan to meet all your favorite characters. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

She starts to smile wider in your lap, nodding quickly, “I want you to come with us. I think my daddy would like that, too. He always talks about you..” She trails off into a ramble about her favorite characters as you sit there and listen, thinking about the off-handed comment about Joel talking about you.

Joel pulls the key out of the ignition after parking the truck in his driveway, jumping out of the car and leaving the door wide open as he runs around the side of his house to yours. Displeasure laminates over him, buzzing his nerves as his steps bound heavy underneath him. He stands in the middle of the grass, looking at you two from behind with Sarah curled up on your lap. She’s giggling and listening to you speak about something, a flower pruned off of its stalk and handed to his daughter from you. The sight makes his anger falter, Sarah’s soft laughter and your voice returning his body to a copacetic state. He continues toward the two of you, breaking into a light jog when you glance over your shoulder and see him.

“Sarah Elena!”

He watches her eyes widen as she peeks over your shoulder at him, hiding her face in your neck. He rounds where you’re sat in the grass, squatting down to be eye level with you. You send him a pursed smile, only one side of your mouth lifted as your hand runs over Sarah’s back.

“Mija, can I please see your beautiful face?”

“No, I don’t want you to yell at me, Daddy,” Sarah speaks into your neck, her voice muffled as she wraps herself closer to you.

“Oh, Bug, I won’t yell at you. I promise,” his hand lays over yours on her back, a grateful smile when you drop yours and he takes its place rubbing gentle circles, “I only want to tell you that I am sorry we can’t go to Disney World today, or this summer. I know it’s a bummer, but Daddy can’t take off work that easily…”

“You really scared me when I couldn’t find you today, mija. I love you so very much and I want you to be safe at all times, and leaving without telling me isn’t very safe, is it?”

Sarah shakes her head slowly, twirling the flower you gave her in between her fingers.

“It was really scary for me, and Uncle Tommy, and Mariposa. I had to get their help to find you. We just love you all so much, we want you to be safe, yeah?”

“I love you, so unbelievably much, mi alma. You can be mad at me whenever you feel that way, but please don’t go anywhere without telling me. You can even come to see Mariposa whenever she’s around, all I need is for you to ask me first, okay?”

Sarah unfurls from her spot on your lap, standing and closing her arms around Joel’s neck. He scoops her up as he stands, holding her close and squeezing her gently.

“I”m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just sad and upset and wanted to come play with Posey to feel better.”

Joel pulls back and looks at her with a soft smile, nodding.

“Thank you for the apology, mija. I love you.” He kisses her forehead and she grins, kissing his cheek.

“Love you too, Daddy,” she looks back at you as you stand, Joel’s eyes following hers to lock with your own gaze, “Posey was talking to me about going to Disney World next summer. And I told her all my favorite characters that I would want to meet.”

Sarah looks back at Joel, a wide smile on her face as she asks excitedly, “Can Posey come with us on our trip next year, Daddy?”

Joel stutters, looking at you as his eyes widen, attempting to find a means to explain yours and his situation-ship to an eight-year-old. You step forward with an exaggerated pout, rubbing Sarah’s arm as she stays perched in Joel’s arms.

“I wish I could, sweet pea, but I’m gonna be living pretty far away soon. I have to get a big adult job like your Daddy has, so I don’t know if I could make it. But never say never, if you still want me to come, you let me know,” your smile dazzles in the evening light, your open-ended response making Joel’s chest feel lighter. Maybe you do see a future with him, somehow.

“I have to move in a couple of weeks for my adult job, but I would love to hang out with you whenever you want, Sare-Bear. You just come knocking or have your Daddy call me, alright? I should be getting inside, it’s nearly dinner time and it’s my turn to cook tonight. Y’all should get inside before the mosquitoes come out hungry.” You laugh softly and Joel echoes it, his eyes glued to you with a soft smile.

Tommy comes out then onto the porch, calling out to Joel and Sarah, sending you a friendly wave.

“Sarah, how about you head inside with Uncle Tommy? I’ll be right behind you, just gotta talk to Mariposa about something.” He sets her down and bites back a wild smile when she gives you a hug before running back home up to her Uncle, the two of them retreating inside.

He turns back to you, silence falling between the two of you.

You're the first to break it, nearly squirming under his stare and his silence.

“I’m sorry if that was overstepping to invite her to come over when she wants, I just, I did really miss her when I was at school, and I thought—”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. More than okay,” he steps forward, nearly second-guessing his movements but telling himself that he needs to quit stalling with you. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against his chest tightly with a squeeze, his head resting on your shoulder.

“Thank you. That doesn’t even begin to cover it, but that’s all I can say right now. Thank you, darlin’.”

Arms around his neck, they tighten with his sincerity, your voice breathing hot whisps of air against his ear, “You don’t have to thank me, Joel. I would do anything for Sarah in a heartbeat. I’d do anything for you in a heartbeat.”

“I know. I’m just really grateful that you still have room for her in your life, and that she has someone like you around. Even for a bit…” He stands up, picking his head up from your shoulder to look down at you. His hand reaches to caress your jaw, toying with his bottom lip between his teeth before he speaks lowly, “I’m glad you’re still in my life, even if it looks different from how it was before.”

“I’m glad you’re still in my life, too. Every time we’ve been alone and get interrupted by someone or something, I have been trying to tell you that I really missed you this year, Joel. And I know I’m leaving soon, and we’re gonna be right back where we were, but I needed to tell you.”

“I want every second of time with you that you can give me, mi Mariposa. I want to be with you before you leave, even if you only can spare little moments,” his thumb brushes back and forth on your jaw, eyes dropping to glance at your lips before he brings his gaze back to yours.

“Deal. I’m yours for the month, cowboy,” you grin up at him and he matches the expression, raising his eyebrows at the nickname.

“Cowboy, huh?” His other hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles as he presses you closer to him.

“Mhmm. Gonna be trying out some nicknames for you. Especially since now you and your daughter have given me one.”

“‘M sorry she has picked up on that…It is pretty cute, though.”

“It is extremely adorable. She may have said you always talk about me.” You wink and laugh louder, his own head shaking as heat creeps along the back of his neck.

“She’s always telling my secrets…” he licks his lips, a sheepish smile turning more confident as he looks down at you, “But she certainly wasn’t lying. Missed you a lot, Mariposa.”

“Missed you too, Joel…So are you gonna kiss me or not?”

He breathes out a laugh, shaking his head as he leans in, whispering as his lips ghost against yours, “Todavía eres mi diablita (Still, you are my little devil).”

He punctuates his sentence with a slow kiss, his body falling into muscle memory as he deepens it with you, groaning softly as his tongue melds with yours and the taste of you hits him again after so long without it. His hand greedily paws at your curves, desperate to hold onto the moment, and you, for as long as he can. When you pull away for a breath, his head follows you, planting a kiss on the corner of your mouth and along your jaw all the way down your neck.

“Alright, alright, don’t want to get caught making out with you in the middle of our yards,” you push at his shoulders and he separates from you with a huff of annoyance, lips tingling and mirroring your own kiss-swollen pout.

“See you tomorrow? You could come over, Sarah’s gonna be gone for the day with her mom.”

You nod and lean up, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, cowboy. Text me whenever you’re free.”

“Expect a text at 6 A.M. then. Don’t wanna waste a second that I could have with you,” he kisses you again, hands finding your ass and squeezing it teasingly.

“Well, you’re gonna be waiting for a few hours then, sir, 'cause I am not waking up that early. Even for you,” you drag your nails along his shoulders through the fabric of his t-shirt, “Goodnight, Joel. I’ll see you in the morning. Not at 6 A.M.”

He laughs lightly, nodding as he smiles sweetly, “Yes, ma’am. I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?” He gives you one last kiss before he sends you on your way up to your house, watching you make it inside, that familiar stirring in his stomach making his limbs feel featherlight.

taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @clingontolife @elizabeth01585 @wandaandellie @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @livinxdeadxgrl @sw33tp1xie @starsandsaints07 @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @whydontyoysaynodoja @beee-haw @shmaptainshmerica07 @jenna-mcgraw19 @whore-4-pedro @spursgirl14-blog @katifefe @joelmillerswifu @itsgiorgiaz @soph55 @grapejuicesny @wild-hearts-runfree @youcancallmeelle @lisa-ru @jupitren @ziggy-star @miaispunk @oneofutoo @starkovli @thatgeminigirlx @marchai @bunnyskisses @houseofballoonsth @casual-obsessions @pedro-pascal-lvr @bimbodolls-world @burningnerdchild @tuquoquebrute @mrsvedder12 @estelivi28 @helllsent @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @angie2274 @owod3 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn @sunakochansama43 @elissaaa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

I started out posting regularly, every 4 days. I’ve since lost all semblance of control. Hopefully I’ll regain at least a bit of it back soon.

Part 1 | . . . | Part 46 | Part 47 | Part 48

“Jesus fuck,” Steve breathes after it’s over and Eddie’s grabbed a cloth to wipe them down.

“There’s no Jesus here,” Eddie says, because he’s never met an intrusive thought he doesn’t at least try once.

Steve curls towards him, laughing into Eddie’s shoulder, and really, Eddie’s only human. He’s got Steve, naked and panting, this close to him. It’s not his fault if he gets a little… excited.

Steve notices, because of course he does, and raises an eyebrow at him. “Down, boy,” he jokes, and Eddie laughs as he turns onto his side, taking a moment to just look at Steve.

“How long did we know each other?”

Steve sighs. “Honestly? Only a few weeks, at most. We knew of each other before that, I was on the basketball team and you were very passionate about the balls in laundry baskets. And I know some of the guys gave you shit, which I’m sorry about. But you and I typically stayed out of each other’s ways.”

“And… you said we met because of Chrissy?”

Steve hums. “Yeah. She’d asked you about something stronger than weed, so you took her to your place, and that’s where Vecna got her. There’s nothing you could’ve done, and anyone with two brain cells knows you never would’ve killed anyone, but…”

“Trailer park trash is all they see,” Eddie nods. “And every cop in Indiana knows the name Al Munson. It’s not too surprising. Disappointing, but not surprising.”

Steve moves a hand up, covers one of Eddie’s with it. “Not this time,” he whispers. “I won’t let it happen.”

Eddie picks up the hand covering his and brings it to his mouth, dropping a kiss to the knuckles. He watches as Steve flushes pink. “Can I ask,” he says after a pause, “how you knew you liked me? If we’d only known each other a few weeks?”

Steve’s flush deepens. “It, uh. Kind of wasn’t just a few weeks, for me. I’d noticed you in school, but never knew what it meant. Then I met Robin, and there’s an entirely different story there—the Russians—but she’s how I realized that what I’d been thinking about hadn’t been entirely straight. And then you adopted Dustin into Hellfire. Actually, you adopted all of them, but Dustin was the most vocal. Kinda worshiped you. I got a little jealous. And then everything happened, and we met, and that’s when I kinda realized what all of it meant.” He suddenly frowns and pokes Eddie’s chest. “And hey, Lucas is on the basketball team, and you didn’t reschedule Hellfire so he could do both. That was a dick move, dude.”

Eddie giggles, because really, what the fuck is his life? “I apologize for my future self’s actions,” he says, lips twitching.

Steve chuckles too. “Sorry. I guess it’s not fair to be upset at you for something you haven’t even done yet.”

Eddie shrugs. “But I did do it. Or I will have. Fuck, this is complicated.”

Steve laughs. “What’s even more complicated is now that we’ve talked about it, you won’t do it.”

Eddie groans and buries his face in the pillow. “You’re breaking my brain.”

“Sorry,” Steve snorts, but he doesn’t sound sorry.

Eddie lifts a hand to flip him off. Steve grabs it and gently bites his middle finger.

Eddie slowly lifts his head to look at Steve, who’s staring at him with wide eyes. “What-”

“I don’t know.”

“What the fuck, dude.” Eddie starts laughing, and Steve joins in, shaking his head.

“I honestly don’t know. I didn’t even think. I guess maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”

Eddie grins at him. “That did happen, yes.”

Steve shoves him away and buries his own face in the pillow. “Shuddup,” he mutters.

Eddie chuckles again and scoots a little closer. “Steve?”

“Hm?” He lifts his face from the pillow. It’s a little bit red, and he has to blink a few times to focus, and Eddie thinks he’s beautiful.

“I’m glad we met. Even if it’s because of all of this.”

Steve gives him a small smile. “Me, too.” He yawns, then claps a hand over his mouth, mortified, as Eddie laughs and sits up.

“I think it’s bedtime for both of us,” he jokes. “Gonna be up bright and early tomorrow, right?”

Steve hums. “But if we don’t go to bed, then tomorrow will never come.”

Eddie shoots him a fond look as he tosses him a pair of sweatpants. “I wish that’s how it worked.”

Steve giggles. “Yeah. I’d just stay up every Sunday night until it’s Saturday again.”

Eddie nods. “You’d never have to go to school again.”

“Exactly.”

They share a laugh as they pull their pants on and Eddie gets back into bed before hesitating. “I guess I should’ve asked, is there- d’you, should I-”

“Stay,” Steve asks quietly, and Eddie smiles and pulls the covers up over both of them.

“Gladly.”

It’s silent for a moment before they both hear a sound coming from Steve’s room.

A scream.

El.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @mischivarien @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @str4wb3rry-guy @paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry