#but oh my god I never want to smoke with a stranger and small talk when I’m really like. CAN I GO HOME NOW ….

[wewontbesleeping]

ugh it’s sooo annoying trying to find a new person to buy weed from. I can’t wait until dispensaries open here so I don’t have to do the whole social interaction thing anymore lol

[suguae]

What you need.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ notes ࿐ྂ Emo!Choso x stoner!reader, smoking, drinking, Oral, Female receiving, Strangers to lovers?, creampie, p in v. characters are ooc! Not proofread. I'm taking request so please send I'm running out of ideas smh...

.ೃ࿐

"You’re going–whether you like it or not.” Nobara applied some lip gloss, checking her outfit one more time. The last place you ever saw yourself was at this frat party. Nobara on the other hand begged you to go. Ever since you met Nobara, she pursued you to open up more. Going out to clubs, parties, and even just shopping, which you still hate doing. You were just really lazy, never wanting to leave the dorms. As Nobara would say, a rotting potato. 

“Give me 5–” “No this is gonna take more than 5.” She grabbed your wrist and threw you into the bathroom. Nobara does your hair cutely while you gulp down a very much needed energy drink. She grabs a pair of jeans that still had the tag on and gives you a judging look.“Seriously y/n?” She chuckles while you look confused. She chucked the pants at your face, now looking for a perfect top. 

“You look—mwah perfect!” She claps her hands together proud of the outcome. Different from your usual hoodies and plaid pj pants look topped off with a messy bun. You grab your purse and spray a bit of perfume before exiting the door with Nobara.

You take a hit from the small pink disposable. You only hated parties because you weren’t good with crowds, so taking a puff of the weed pen definitely always helped with the stress. Nobara was always against it but at this point she gave up, only leaving the windows open in her car to fume the smell out. “It’s not gonna be that bad, I promise.” She gives you a reassuring smile. 

“I promise, my ass.” You mumble walking through the crowd already parted ways from Nobara. You weren’t mad that she left, because who were you to stop her from having fun. Your body was already fuzzy from the indica strain you hit less than 10 minutes ago. “Y/n what the hell?” you turn to see Todo with Yuji by his side. You softly smile as Todo leads you to the back where it had been quieter and less abrupt. 

“We honestly never thought you’d come to one of these.” Yuji says passing you a drink filled with god knows what. “No offense but couldn’t even tell that was you, you look amazing.” Todo wraps his arm around your shoulder. “ouch—” you clench onto your chest as if you were hurt by his words. 

“Wanna join us? We’re about to play cup pong inside.” Yuji asked. Going back in there would be hell, but out here was filled with people making out and a little smoke circle. “I’ll be there in a few, I’ll stay out here for now.” They shrugged it off and walked back inside to the real party. You sat with the little circle of people who had been passing around a blunt. 

“You know my little brother?” you turn to look at who’d been talking to you while you waited for your turn. His eyes were sunken and dark, but red due to the weed. His voice was deep and his head leaned on some random freakishly hot girl. “Um–who?” you questioned who he’d been talking about. He cleared his throat before picking his head up to get a better look at you. 

“Yuji.” He passes you the joint. Yuji? Had an older brother? An older brother that was 100x hotter than him. Not even looking remotely similar. “Oh..yeah.” you take a deep puff before passing it onto some other person. “Y/n, seriously?” you turn around to see Nobara rushing to pull you away from the group. “What?” You look back at the circle as Nobara pulls you inside. 

“Not Yuji’s brother, he and his friends are weird.” She closes the back door while leading you into the kitchen to grab another drink. “Listen, I'm just trying to have fun like you told me.” You were a bit surprised at why she pulled you away, wouldn't she want this?

“They're weird, like a cult kind of…” she giggled, fixing her makeup on her little hand mirror while you took a sip from the red cup. Nobara was very judgmental though, judging people before she even knew them.

Now you stood in the kitchen alone. “Where’s that little friend of yours?” Yuji’s brother spoke, catching you off guard. He was inches away from you hovering over you. You noticed how he had some piercings, an eyebrow piercing, a lip piercing and some ear piercings. His finger nails were painted black and to top it off he smelled amazing. The strong cologne taking over your nose, mixed with the smell of the weed. “Somewhere.” You yelled due to the loud music. 

“She doesn’t like me.” He laughed bringing the red cup up to his face for a sip. “I assumed.” you dryly respond looking everywhere but his eyes. “Wanna get out of here?” stranger danger? You didn’t even know his name yet, and he’s asking you if you wanted to leave with him. “Kamo Choso.” He held out his hand finally introducing himself, seeing the uncertain look on your face.

You softly shake it, “Y/n..L/n” What could be the worst to happen? After all, you weren’t even enjoying yourself here. 

“Fuck~” a whispered moan coming out of your mouth, tugging onto Choso’s hair. Hearing the lewd noises coming from his mouth as he slurps the juices from your aching pussy. His tongue explores places you never knew of. One hand grasping your waist as the other wraps around your thigh. You couldn’t help but close your thighs tightly around Choso’s head, the pleasure overstimulating you. “I’m gonna cum–” Your hands pressing Choso’s head deeper than he already was feeling your high getting closer and closer with each movement in Choso’s tongue. The milky substance droops down Choso’s chin as he pulls away. Deeply breathing making his way on top of you. 

One minute you two are laughing about some random shit and the next he’s eating you out in his brother's bedroom in the noisy frat house. The music was muffled. His lips intertwined with yours, tasting the cum from your pussy on his tongue. His hands roaming your body, you slide off his shirt having the perfect view of his light 6 pack. 

He breaks the kiss to slide his black sweatpants, his long cock springing out hitting his stomach. “I don’t have a condom…” he huffs looking at you. You point at your arm as your breath is unsteady. He rubs the tip of his cock onto your clit, teasing you. The pathetic moans escaping your mouth as you grab his face, leaving sloppy pecks on his lips. “Where the hell were you all my life.” He watches your lips form into the ‘O’ shape while he slides his cock against your folds. This was pure perfection to him. You were a drug to him. Once his eyes landed on you, there was no turning back. “Want me to fuck you?” He whispers leaving a little nibble on your ear. He was getting ready to slip himself into your wet cunt before you stopped him. “What’s the matter—we can stop if you want…” He worriedly looked at you. He was respectful too? “No–I wan’t ride you.”

“Fuck y/n…” He whimpers as you jump up and down on his dick. His hands tightly gripping your hips while his eyes travel to your boobs bouncing up and down.Your head leaned back as you moaned. Feeling you hit the spot every time you pounced. “Let me see that beautiful face, yeah?” His hand leaves your waist as his thumb rubs the bottom of your lip. Slipping his thumb into your moist lips. Sucking his finger as you bounce on him persistently. 

You feel his cock splurt out his jizz inside your pussy, still hopping on his like a bunny as you feel your high reach. Finally you throw yourself next to him while the white mixed liquids run down your cunt. Both of you breathe in sync trying to process everything that just happened. You grab your clothes and change the bathroom of Yuji’s room while Choso cleaned up the mess. 

“Want to head back to my place?” Choso recommended in hope of you saying yes. You followed closely behind him as you two were making your way out of Yuji’s room. You smiled and grabbed his hand, “Why not?” 

The door opened revealing Yuji getting ready to open it with some girl behind him, His eyes wide watching you and his brother leave his room. Hair messy, runny makeup and the atmosphere was just so clear. You two didn’t bother to explain, leaving Yuji dumbfounded.

[springtyme]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐎𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑: 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐃𝐨 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ♡

Carmy x afab!reader || Series masterlist || Series playlist

Previous chapter || Main masterlist || ao3 || Next chapter

chapter summary: Six months ago, you made the move to Chicago and since then, the feeling of truly belonging to this new city hasn't quite settled within you. Being far away from friends and family hasn't made the transition any easier. However, one night, a new connection unexpectedly forms when your neighbor, who nearly set your apartment building ablaze, enters your life.

word count: 1.9k

warnings/tags: Eventual smut! (18+, mdni!) Language. Smoking. Angst and fluff. Slow burn. Mutual pining. Strangers to friends to lovers. Set in season one. Just a quick little chapter. I promise the next one will be longer <3

The sound of a bell chimes as you enter the restaurant, and you’re immediately hit with the smell of grilled meats and spices, making your stomach growl in response, and you are suddenly very aware of the fact that you have not yet eaten anything today. 

The room that you have stepped into is not big, the counter is taking up most of the space, with bar styled seating options up against the big window facing the street, but you spot an entrance to another room with a dining area. The wall opposite of the counter is adorned with various framed photos of the city, of customers over the years, people in chef’s attire and newspaper clippings, and at the end of the room there is a small deli counter. 

Definitely not a Michelin restaurant, you can not help but note, but warm and inviting in its own way, with that nostalgic charm of an old family-run establishment. Behind the counter, talking animatedly through the little window to the kitchen, stands a tall man, his hands moving in gestures as he explains something, but his back is turned towards you. You hesitate for a moment, he must not have heard the bell, he is laughing loudly, but as you take a step further into the room the man behind the counter turns around, noticing you standing by the door. 

“Welcome to The Beef,” he greets you, putting both his hands flat on the counter, and leaning slightly forward, as you approach with Carmen’s phone securely stored in your coat pocket. 

Now as you’re closer and he is facing you, he suddenly seems familiar, you can’t quite put a finger on from where, but you can’t help feeling like you have seen him before, and he seems to feel the same way by the way he’s now looking at you, his brow now furrowed slightly and a puzzled look in his eyes. Before you can respond and explain why you’re here, his face changes to a look of realization. “Ey, you’re the couch girl!”

Your eyes widens as you now recognize him as well. He was the other man who carried your couch up to your apartment with Michael. “Yeah, oh my god, you and…” you’re just about to mention Michael, but you stop yourself on the brink of saying it, not wanting to bring up potential painful memories. “You really saved my ass, back then,” you say, a faint smile playing on your lips. “I never even got your name.”

“Richie Jerimovich, at your service,” he replies, flashing you a wide grin as he extends his hand across the counter for a handshake. You shake his hand, offering him your own name, feeling a sense of familiarity settling between the two of you, despite having only met very briefly before. 

“Now what can I get for you, sweetheart?” He says slamming his palms back down on the counter, but you don’t get the chance to explain that you’re actually not here to eat, but to drop off Carmen’s phone, before the door to the kitchen swings open.

“Cousin, did you just call a customer sweetheart? What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” Carmen’s voice fills the room as he barges through the kitchen door, looking accusingly at Richie before turning to you. “I am so sorry about-” he breaks off mid-sentence, a look of surprise crossing his features as he realizes who you are. 

His hair is just as disheveled as it was last night, the loose curls look like he has been running his hands through them many a time throughout the day. He is also pretty much dressed the same as he was last night, but the white tee he is now wearing is looking crispier than the one he had been wearing at your place, and now a dark blue apron is tied around his waist. You can’t help but study his features, it’s the first time you see him in proper lighting, his eyes are, somehow, looking even more blue in the overhead lights of the restaurant.  

You clear your throat, feeling a sudden rush of nerves as you meet his gaze. His eyes are wide with surprise from seeing you here, but the tired lines around his eyes, softening a bit as he looks at you. “Hi,” you say with a small smile, adjusting the strap of your tote bag, hiking it higher up on your shoulder as it had started to slide off.

“Hi…” He responds in the same soft voice as you, but with surprise written all over his face. His wide eyes, blue and piercing, flickering over your face for a short moment, making your heart beat slightly faster in your chest. 

· · · · ·

By the time Richie and Syd are back from the hardware store, Carmen’s anger has defused, all that is left is a lingering sense of exhaustion and defeat. His migraine is gone as well, the excruciating pain from earlier is now reduced to a dull ache. Having to deal with a C in the window turned out to not be the worst thing to happen today.  

The talk with Jimmy had been like a fucking punch to the gut. He had come by the restaurant shortly after Richie and Sydney had left, and that is when he revealed that Mikey had loaned money from him. A lot of money. Money that Carmen now has to pay back. Three hundred grand... Three fucking hundred grand! It is almost too high of a number to be able to take seriously. How his uncle could have even thought about loaning Mikey that much is beyond him, it was down right irresponsible. 

Carmen sighs as he turns the burner down to let the pot with the simmering ragu cool off a bit. He runs a hand through his hair, his fingers feeling the knots and tangles from a long day of work. He has to figure all this out, but right now all he can focus on is to get through the day.  

“Family is ready soon,” he says, loud enough for the other people in the kitchen to hear, wiping his hands on a dishtowel before walking towards the door to the front to tell Richie. There must be a customer, he can hear the muffled sound of voices, but then, just as Carmen is about to push open the door, the anger from earlier comes back to him as he hears Richie’s voice from the other side of the door. 

“Now what can I get for you, sweetheart?”  

Carmen’s blood starts to boil as he listens to the inappropriate comment. He pushes the door open, ready to give Richie a piece of his mind. “Cousin, did you just call a customer sweetheart? What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” Carmen’s voice fills the room as he barges through the kitchen door, looking accusingly at Richie before turning to you. “I am so sorry about-” he begins, turning towards whoever the poor person Richie tried to chat up is, but his words die in his throat as he meets your gaze. 

Carmen has not even tried to process what had happened last night yet. In a weird way, it hadn’t even fully felt real, more like a dream that fades upon waking, but now seeing you standing in front of him, the memories flood back with full force, overwhelming him as your kind, pretty eyes lock with his.  

“Hi,” you say softly, breaking the silence that has settled in the room. Carmen feels a rush of words and emotions flooding his mind, but he is at a loss for how to respond, his thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess. 

“Hi…” he eventually manages to get out, his voice slightly breathless as he continues to hold your gaze. The moment stretches in time, the air filled with a sense of anticipation and uncertainty. 

“You forgot this…” you say, pulling something out of your coat pocket, which he realizes is his phone. So he had not forgotten it at home like he had thought, he had forgotten it at your home…  

You hold the phone out for Carmen, and he reaches out to take it, his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment as he does so. “Thank you,” he says, his voice filled with sincerity. “How did you..?” 

“Your sister called. I didn’t know if it was you who called your own phone or what so I answered. I am sorry if I overstepped any boundaries,” you explain, looking a little bashful as you do so. 

“No, no, that’s… That’s okay,” Carmen assures you, the last thing he wants is for you to feel bad for helping him out. He is the one who should feel bad for forgetting his phone in the first place. “Thank you for bringing it by, I really appreciate it.” He unlocks his phone and sees several missed calls and messages from Sugar, confirming your story.

“You should probably give her a call when you get the time,” you say softly, there is no accusation in your tone, yet Carmy feels the familiar knot of guilt forming in his stomach. He knows that he owes his sister a call, many calls, but he just hasn’t had the strength to face the reality of everything that has been happening. But now, seeing you standing in front of him, who he barely even knows, but has already shown him so much kindness in the last nine hours or so, since you met, his guilt weighs heavy on his shoulders. 

“Yeah, you are probably right.” His voice is soft, his eyes downcast as he pockets his phone before he looks up at you again. “Are, uhm, are you busy?”  

You shake your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “No, not really.”

“We are having food, in a bit,” he adds vaguely, gesturing towards the kitchen. “If you want, you can join us.” He doesn’t really know what to do in this situation, but offering you a meal seems like the polite thing to do. You don’t answer immediately, looking a little hesitating as you mull the offer over. Carmen’s hands are suddenly feeling a lot clammier than for just a little while ago, surprising himself by how much he wants you to say yes. 

“Oh, I don’t wanna impose,” you say, fumbling with your tote bag strap again, looking a little hesitant. 

Carmen just shakes his head lightly. “No imposition at all,” he assures you, echoing your words from last night which makes a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. 

“Right, the more the merrier,” Richie, who Carmy had almost forgotten was in the room, chimes in.   

“Okay,” you say, the smile on your face growing brighter. “Food does sound really good.”

Carmen’s heart skips a beat at your acceptance, and he gestures for you to follow him. “Family’s in five,” he says to Richie, who mouths a ‘you two fucking?’ as he moves his hips like he is humping the air in front of him. This makes Carmy’s cheek heat up with anger, (as well as something else though he isn’t even sure about what exactly is, he just knows that it is something that he doesn’t really want to dissect that right) as he glares angrily back at Richie who seemingly thinks the whole situation is fucking hilarious. 

Carmen’s just thankful that your back was turned. He also can’t help but feel weirdly happy about being the one who cooked family today. 

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated :) let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter ♡

taglist: @wittyno @eternallyvenus @eddioto @luivisa @navs-bhat @mrs-reeves-17 @johnmurphys-sass @jmamas92 @raspberrieshortcake @yubo-23 @girlorfish

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Thanks for doing this (modern!Aegon II Targaryen x reader, past Jason Lannister x reader)

synopsis: What are the odds of running into your ex at a random bar in King´s Landing on a random friday night? Well, apparently the odds are higher than you thought.

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking, Jason being a prick

word count: 1.8k

a/n: I am still working on requests and outlining my first series, but I wanted to put out something in the meantime. I´m sorry requests are taking so long. Any way, I hope y´all like this nonetheless. <3

What are the odds of running into your ex at a random bar in King´s Landing on a random friday night? Too many people to count in this goddamn city and you had to end up next to your ex- boyfriend, your ex-boyfriend who wasn’t even living in this goddamn city. How did he even get here?! You would have asked if you hadn’t wanted to avoid any form of conversation so badly. Looking the other way, you impatiently waited for the barkeeper to give you your drink so you could leave for the back of the bar, where you’d hopefully meet some of your friends. Unfortunately, you found yourself addressed in a posh voice only a moment later.

“What a pleasant coincidence to meet you here!” Jason Lannister had obviously recognized you and was now moving in for a kiss to each cheek.

You gave him an awkward smile. The two of you hadn’t had the healthiest of relationships, followed by a messy break-up, and you had sincerely hoped to never see Jason again when he moved back to Casterly rock.

Accordingly unenthusiastic was your reaction to his attempts at making small talk, which he didn’t seem to mind, placing a hand on your arm and going on about his vacation plans. He was in King´s landing on vacation, staying in some expensive hotel, for three weeks, one of which was already over, and considering prolonging his stay.

His breath was hitting your face, smelling of the cigarettes he’d already smoked when you’d been dating, making you shift away uncomfortably.

“No, we were not. You didn’t give a shit about my wishes and feelings.” You deadpanned.

“Some nights I wonder what would be if we had not split up. We were good together.” His hand had slipped from your arm to settle on your thigh. You grabbed it and put it back onto the counter.

“Don’t lie to me. I loved you.” He reached out to brush a strand of hair out of your face, causing you to flinch away.

Instead of taking the hint Jason softly stroked down your temple, letting his fingers linger at the bare skin of your neck above the thin strap of your dress.

Under other circumstances, had anyone else, any random stranger gotten this close to you and touched you like this, you’d told them to fuck off, and maybe even punched them in the face if necessary, but with Jason it was different. Too many memories were being washed up to the surface. Some pleasant, many not so much.

Memories of soft touches like these, growing harsher the more you became filled with lust.

Come on, get me off.

Of course I care about you.

Memories of the same hands that’d held onto you scrolling through a phone, eyes fixed on the screen more often than not.

Memories of words whispered into your ear after every fight, after every make-out-session, at the end of every rushed phone call.

I love you.

Abruptly, you grabbed Jason´s wrist and again pushed his hand onto the bars countertop.

“Stop that.” you insist harshly.

“Why? You’ve always liked it when I touched your neck.” Gods how you wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face.

“I don’t want you to touch me anymore, Jason. We’re done. We’ve been done for three years now, get a grip.”

“No. I’ve moved on.”

Jason leaned in again, smiling charmingly like a shark. “We could go again. You’ve gotten hotter.”

“Oh?” He raised his eyebrows. “And who is the lucky one?”

You opened your mouth to tell him that it was none of his business when a deep, smooth voice beat you to it.

The stranger leaned in for a hug, whispering into your ear. “You looked like you could use some help. Don’t worry, I got you.”

“Hey babe. Sorry, I’m late, Arryk almost burned down our kitchen.” Both Jason and you turned around to the speaker, a muscular, pale man with short hair of an even paler blonde than Jasons.

Aegon pulled back and turned towards Jason, keeping one of his hands resting protectively on the small of your back.

You felt like a stone had been lifted from your chest, may the seven bless this man. Smiling, you reciprocated the hug. “Hey, nuha jorrāelza. It’s alright.”

“Keep your hands off my girlfriend, will you.” It wasn’t a question.

“Jason Lannister.” He sounded like he had tasted something foul but couldn’t spit it out anymore, pointedly passing over Aegon’s challenge.

Jason looked the other up and down, taking in his bulk, obviously considering his chances in case the situation escalated. Jason was a bit taller than Aegon, but Aegon was decidedly more muscular and had an air of badass on him that Jason´s based-on-money confidence just couldn’t match.

“Aegon Targaryen. I’d say ‘pleasure to meet you’ but my mother taught me not to lie.” Aegon scowled.

You nodded, that was the perfect excuse to ditch your ex.

Then he directed his attention back to you. “The others are outside having a smoke, you wanna check in with them?”

“Bye, Jason.”

The chilly night air of King´s landing hit the two of you when you stepped outside, a welcome contrast to the stuffiness inside the bar. Aegon let go of your waist as soon as you were out of Jason´s sight, but kept up the protective demeanor.

“Are you alright? He didn’t do anything real bad, did he?”

“Don’t worry, no need to explain yourself. It happens.” He smiled at you, a warm glint in his lilac eyes.

You gave him a wry smile and a nod. “No, I’m fine. Thank you. I’m not normally that… helpless… That was my ex and… yeah…”

“What’s your name, by the way?” You felt your cheeks heat up. Right. You quickly tell him your name. “Alright. Do you wanna leave here? Want me to call you a cab or something?”

“No, actually, I’d like to go back inside. I’m not going to let that jackass of an ex-boyfriend ruin my friday night. Would you care to accompany me? In case he tries something again?”

He sounded genuinely concerned, it made your heart jump. If you were being saved from Jason by a kind, handsome stranger, you'd absolutely use the chance for a flirt. And maybe even more? You grinned.

Aegon gave you a look, then smiled. “Alright.”

Aegon nodded and offered you his arm, which you happily took. By now the bar had gotten fuller, people were filling up all of the booths along the walls and some had begun to dance in the free space towards the back.

“Do you want a drink?” You felt Aegon’s breath brush your ear as he leaned in so he’d be heard over the music. It was a nice sensation.

You shook your head though. “Later, let’s dance!”

“Thanks for doing this.” Your voice is so quiet it's barely audible over the music.

You were not only drop-dead gorgeous but also an amazing dancer as Aegon would soon realize. The two of you were moving perfectly in tune with the music, hips swaying, a wide grin on your face, and your eyes on Aegon. It was almost hypnotic, the mischievous spark in your gaze that pulled him in. Then the beat dropped and you broke out the raddest dance moves he’d ever seen in his life. You knew he was staring but he just couldn’t help himself. That was impressive. You obviously noticed, and laughed, raising an eyebrow and dancing up on him. Aegon shot you a smirk and a wink, leaning in and placing his hands on your hips. Your hands travelled up his arms, coming to a rest behind his neck.

His is as well. “Pleasure.”

Jason Lannister was annoyed. He’d been watching his ex and her new boyfriend dance for the last hour or so (don’t you even think about calling him pathetic!) and while he definitely wasn’t jealous, the two of them did seem to have an awful lot of fun together. They were alternating between ridiculous breakdance battles and basically dry-humping each other like horny teenagers, taking up the center of the dancefloor where people had formed a circle around them.

“Look me in the eye or otherwise we’ll have seven years of bad sex, don’t you know the saying?”

By the time the couple returned to the bar, Jason was sipping his fourth Solero, still watching them from across. The new guy had a hand resting on your lower back, holding you close, while you were laughing at something he’d said.

Picking up their drinks, they clinked glasses.

“Can’t risk that, can we?” they laughed at each other as they sipped their drinks. Your eyes were sparkling bright enough for Jason to notice from his spot, in a way they never had when the two of them had been together. Aegon was smiling like someone from a toothpaste commercial, teeth bright against his flushed skin. Jason rolled his eyes. He caught you shooting him a smug glance, then whispering to your boyfriend, who laughed and pulled you closer. You bit your lip, glancing down into your glass, and Jason knew that if he’d been closer, he would have been able to see the other’s blush.

When Aegon tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, Jason downed the rest of his drink and left. He should have gone on vacation to the Riverlands. Or Essos.

You stayed at the bar until long after your ex had left, talking about life and the world, and taking dance breaks again and again. It was the wee hours of the morning when you stood at the subway station, about to finally part ways.

“Thank you for helping me out, Egg.”

He smiled and pulled out his phone. “No problem, really. ‘Twas a pleasure. Can I have your number?”

“What?”

“Yes. Definitely.” The phone screen was putting a strange blueish lighting to your face as you saved your number into Aegon´s phone. You looked up and grinned.

“Huh?” Aegon felt his cheeks heat up from having been caught staring.

He went to take his phone from you, but ended up grabbing your hand instead. You were standing way too close. This is awkward, he thought, but didn’t let go.

He looked up to find you staring at him. At his lips, to be exact. Aegon swiped his tongue over them reflexively. “You know…”

Whatever he’d been about to say was cut off by a pair of soft lips being pressed to his. The kiss was warm and sweet, tasting slightly of the liquor you’d had earlier. Aegon used his free hand, the one that wasn’t still awkwardly holding yours and the phone, to pull you in a little closer, placing it gently at your waist. He could feel you smile against his lips before deepening the kiss.

When you pulled back, you were both slightly out of breath and smiling like idiots. A subway entered the station, making a whole bunch of noise.

You looked up. “That one’s mine.”

“I’ll try.” You grinned, stepping back. “Call me!”

Aegon nodded, biting his lower lip. “Get home safe.”

“I will!” He assures you and then the subway doors close behind you.

[katyswrites]

'tis the damn season

PART 4 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), angst, friends-with-benefits, parental neglect/abuse, smoking, alcohol use, two fools who can’t just say what they feel

Wordcount: 9.1k

Childhood friends-to-lovers-to-strangers-to-lovers again, broken promises, and roads not taken, lots of angst, soft smut, illicit affairs, what-ifs, and it’s always been you. And it all leads to your hometown, during Christmas break.

Part 4 | the warmest bed I’ve ever known

THEN, Spring 1988

“Wait, what?” Robin cried in disbelief.

You sighed, twirling the phone’s cord in your hand.

“Robin, look -”

“You mean I’m not going to see you at all? You’re killing me here -”

“Robin! It’s just… this is a really big opportunity. And, I’ve got my own place here now, and flights have gotten crazy expensive -”

You heard Robin laugh through the phone, then a sigh.

“You know I’m fucking with you, right?”

A small wave of relief washed over you - you had been dreading this call, so much that you’d been putting it off for over a week.

“You are?”

“Yeah! I mean - I’m not going to lie, I’m pretty bummed that you’re not coming back to Hawkins. I miss you like crazy. But, that’s so exciting… like, an internship with the New York Times? I mean, you’re really doing it - making it in the big city, all of that -”

You smiled, and flopped down on your bed, clutching the phone.

“Yeah, well, it’s not exactly glamorous - it’s an unpaid internship, and I’m taking extra shifts at the coffee shop to make it all work, with two roommates -”

“Yeah, but… it’s all pretty amazing. You’re really getting out, doing what you’ve always wanted. And I mean, me and Steve are still stuck back here -”

You twinged inwardly at the mention of his name, and were suddenly thankful that Robin couldn’t see you right then.

“Oh c’mon - don’t talk like that. I mean, you said the semester’s going well, right?”

Robin sighed, and you could picture the way she was probably rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, at Hawkins Community - but, I’m thinking of transferring next year. Not sure if I can afford it though.”

“There’s nothing wrong with community college, Robin. I’ve told you that like a million times -”

“It’s not the school itself, you know that. I just… you actually got out, away from Hawkins. The most interesting thing here is the movie theater, and only one screen is working right now, did you know that?”

You bit your lip, and searched for the words - you couldn’t argue with her there. But, Robin carried on, the way she often did:

“But, to be honest, it’s probably good that I’m sticking around here - without me here, God knows what would happen to Steve. I think we’re a little codependent, to be honest - did you tell him yet, that you’re not coming back for spring break, or the summer? I can, if you want, but I didn’t know -”

“Oh, uh - I mean, you can, if you want,” you answered quickly. “No need to make a big deal out of it, but, um… I don’t care if he knows, I guess. He’ll figure it out, when I don’t show up, anyways.”

You were aware that you were stammering, your heartbeat quickening and palms growing clammy at the thought of Steve. In the days following your argument, you had found yourself spiraling, thinking of nothing but Steve. There were a million times that you thought about calling him, or driving to his house, or even writing him a letter - but the idea of facing him again was enough to make you sick. In the end, you had headed back to New York in the new year, and subconsciously made a vow to never see him again. When you had received the summer internship offer, and the chance to renew the lease on your apartment, you had jumped at the opportunity. 

You hadn’t told Robin about what happened between you and Steve - it felt wrong to lie, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to talk about it. But you had somewhat assumed that he would say something - those two were inseparable. If she knew anything, though, she wasn’t letting it on. In fact, she was talking about Steve like things were completely normal, which was lending itself to awkward conversations like this. 

“Um, okay… by the way, just between you and me, I think he really misses you.”

You stiffened, and cursed yourself for your sharp intake of breath - Robin probably heard that.

“You think so?” you asked, trying your best to keep your tone steady.

“I mean, yeah - whenever I bring you up, he gets kind of weird… I can’t really explain it. He usually talks to me about these things, but… it doesn’t matter. I love him, but he can be such a guy sometimes, you know? But, I think he’s going to be sorry to hear you’re ditching us, that’s all.”

No, you thought. He’ll actually be thrilled to know he doesn’t have to see me again.

The thought alone was enough to make your eyes start to burn with tears, and you soon had to make a lame excuse to hang up the phone. And once again, you were alone. 

NOW, Winter 1988

For the two days following your conversation with Robin, where you had confessed everything, you find yourself spiraling. Maybe it’s just the run-in with Steve that had done this, the reminder that he’s real and here, only minutes away - in New York, it had been easy to keep him off of your mind. But, now, everything reminds you of him - driving past your old high school, the small Methodist church on the corner, the movie theater at the center of town, or the footprint of where Starcourt Mall used to be, bringing you back to that one summer when he scooped ice cream in that ridiculous sailor uniform. You feel him in the chilly winter wind, in the bare trees lining the sidewalks, in the smell of fireplace smoke drifting through the atmosphere on especially cold nights. And you hear him in the music on the radio, when that one Wham! song comes on, and you picture him rolling his eyes and smiling endearingly and you belted it in his face.

You had thought that being back in Hawkins would feel strange, after being away so long. But no, it’s worse - it aches. 

But, Christmas is on its way, and you throw yourself into holiday prep in full force. You decide to not think about Steve, to the best of your ability. You gather and wrap gifts, help hang lights over the fireplace, and finish addressing the last-minute Christmas cards that your mother forgot to send out. Then, comes the baking - you’re always tasked with it, making cakes and cookies and confections for all of the parties, including your special lemon cake, saved for an indulgent breakfast on Christmas morning. It’s what brings you to the grocery store in the afternoon, with a long list of baking essentials. The store is a bit of a zoo, with Christmas only about a week away, and you find yourself shouldering down the aisle labeled ‘Baking Needs.’ It’s slim pickings, and you inwardly groan as you have to get the more expensive brand-name baking soda. You’re so preoccupied that you’re intentionally drowning out the sounds of the people around you, scanning your handwritten list with a furrowed brow. 

Okay, you think, I’ve got the eggs, lemons, flour, sugar, unsalted butter -

It’s why you hardly see him, not until you’re looking up and moving again, nearly crashing your cart right into him.

“Oh my - oh, hey,” you say, your voice getting caught in your throat when you realize who it is.

Steve stares back at you, mouth hanging open, eyes wide. He looks just as he did a few days ago, a bit changed from the boy you last saw a year ago. But, he’s still Steve, and he’s standing in the middle of the grocery aisle right in front of you. The mundanity of it all somehow makes it seem more unbelievable, more exasperating. To his credit, he’s frozen in place, looking like he’s seen a ghost.

“Hey,” he replies softly.

You both stare at each other, almost filling the silence, then stopping - what is there even to say? Shoppers weave around you, muttering to themselves, crackly Christmas music playing through the store’s sound system. But you may as well be able to hear a pin drop, because you can’t find a single thing to say, and neither can Steve.

“I - um - what are you doing?” Steve asks. You glance down at you cart, full of chocolate and flour and absolutely nothing practical, then shrug.

“Oh, you know - buying stuff for Christmas baking. My parents are busy with work, and I’m the one who knows what to get anyways, so… yeah.”

It’s stiff, and awkward, and a ridiculous exchange to even be having. He just nods.

“Oh, yeah - the great Christmas baking extravaganza.”

Right - three years ago, Steve had been there to help you, letting you instruct him around the kitchen, and the cookies had nearly burned because you two got… distracted. You shake the memory, feeling sick.

“Oh - yeah. I think I’m making my chai cookies for your party, actually… your mom told my mom that she really liked those.”

He raises his eyebrows at that, curious.

“You’re - you’re coming to the party on Saturday?”

“I - well, yeah. I didn’t think I was, but… my mom was pretty insistent.”

Something flickers across his face then, something unreadable, then his expression hardens.

“Right, yeah -makes sense. I mean, that you’re coming because of your mom.”

His words are clipped, his voice sharp. Fuck.

You just wish, more than anything, that the ground will open up beneath you and swallow you up, if it means getting out of this encounter. But, miracles don’t happen often, so you have to swallow your pride and face him instead. You sigh, looking down at your cart. 

“Steve, I - that’s not what I meant. Well, I guess it is, but - I figured you didn’t really want to see me. And I’m not going to make you uncomfortable in your house, that’s not fair.”

Just silence from him, and you can’t look at him. You just find yourself focusing on a bag of flour in the cart, reading the label as you try to figure out something else to say.

“But, it seems the world just wants us to run into each other anyway, apparently,” you mumble.

“Hm, yeah, I guess,” Steve says coldly. Another moment passes, just the two of you in the grocery aisle - somehow, of everyone in the store, he’s the only one who truly seems like a stranger.

“Well, uh - I guess I’ll see you on Saturday,” you say quickly, finally bringing your eyes back up to meet his. “I - I’ll try to stay out of your way, though. It’s the least I can do.”

You make a move to keep pushing your cart, but Steve just sighs.

“Hey, wait -”

Despite yourself, you stop in your tracks, frozen. You look back at him, and there’s a question in his eyes, searching your face for… something.

“Yeah?” you reply.

“I, uh - are you free later today?”

You furrow your brow, and nod cautiously.

“Um, yes - I mean, I think I should be. I have a couple of other errands to run, but I don’t think it’s going to take super long -”

“You want to meet at Gateway? And like, get a coffee, or something?”

You feel your stomach twist and turn into knots - there’s something in his voice, the harsh edge softened just a bit, pleading for you. And he’s staring at you with those honey brown eyes, and you know one thing - if you say no, that’s it - the nail in the coffin. So you swallow, and nod slowly.

“Yeah - sure thing.”

He nods curtly, and glances at his watch.

“Okay, well - it’s noon, so want to say like, around 2?”

“Mm hm - that’s fine. I’ll meet you there, I guess.”

You let your gaze linger on Steve for a moment longer, then turn and walk down the aisle, pretending to look at your shopping list. You wonder if he’s still staring at you - but you don’t dare to turn around to find out.

*****

You arrive at Gateway Diner at 1:56 pm. Steve is never on time for anything, that much you know - so you sit in your car for a moment, gathering yourself. You take a few deep breaths, shutting your eyes and resting your head against the wheel. You feel a bit sick, your mind in a haze ever since the conversation in the grocery store a few hours ago. Coming back to Hawkins was a huge mistake, Christmas be damned -

You take a moment to glance at yourself in the mirror, and sigh - if you had known this was happening today…

You fish around in your bag, silently thanking yourself for always carrying around a little concealer and mascara. You do your best with your finger to cover the dark circles under your eyes, hastily dabbing in the concealer until it’s deemed good enough. As you quickly run mascara over your lashes, you laugh to yourself, feeling like a fool - but, it doesn’t stop you, nor does it stop you from finally getting out of the car. You take one more deep breath in the chilly December air - you can do this.

When you enter the diner, your cold cheeks burn as they meet the warm air. It’s thick with the sounds of chatter and silverware, the smell of greasy food wafting from the kitchen. It had been so long since you had last been here, and somehow, you actually feel like you’re somewhere familiar for the first time all week.

You try to catch the eye of the girl behind the counter to be seated - someone new, she might even still be in high school - but before you can, you hear an all-too-familiar voice call your name. You whip your head towards it, and see Steve sitting at a booth by the window, waving in your direction. 

You nod and head over, each step feeling impossible as you grow closer to him. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve run into him, you realize - you’ll never quite get used to the sight of him, not anymore.

He already has a mug of coffee in front of him, halfway done, by the looks of it. He got here early, and waited, you realize with dread. Fuck.

“Hey,” he says, offering a small smile as you slide into the vinyl booth.

“Hey,” you parrot. He’s just staring at you, and you suddenly find yourself fidgeting. Unsure what to do with your hands, you just fold them flat on the table, suddenly making this whole thing feel like a business meeting between colleagues. No, worse than that: you’re strangers.

“Thanks for coming,” he says quietly. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

You shrug, staring down at the full cup of coffee sitting in front of you - he must’ve ordered it for you.

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure I would, either.”

It’s brutal, but honest - his face falters slightly, but to his credit, he recovers quickly.

“Well, I’m glad you did.”

Silence again. Heavy, awkward. You fumble with one of  the little creamers, pouring it into your coffee and avoiding eye contact as you busy yourself.

“So,” he starts, “uh - how’s New York been?”

You shrug, stirring the coffee with a spoon.

“Fine. I mean, good - really busy. I’m still interning with the Times. And, working at this coffee place downtown. But, it’s cool, because I’m actually doing stuff. Like, I don’t just grab coffee - I get to sit in on meetings, they listen to my ideas, let me look over stuff as it gets edited - I’m learning a lot.”

You find yourself rambling, carrying on with details he probably doesn’t care about, because somehow it’s better than that godawful silence. Steve, to his credit, is at least pretending to be a good listener - he’s looking at you intently, hanging on each word as you carry on about your apartment, your roommates, the breaking news article you practically stayed overnight in the office to help get published.

“- I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was exhausted, but it was worth it - there was this thrill to it, knowing that I helped to make that happen, and it was on the front page. Below the fold, but still -”

“That’s amazing,” he says quietly. You stop, and meet his eyes. He’s just looking at you, face soft, and something tells you he actually means it. Bastard. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s what you’ve always wanted - for as long as I remember. So, that’s awesome, really. Did they put your name?”

You raise your eyebrow, confused.

“What?”

“Your name. On the byline? You always said that was your dream - to have your byline on the front of the Times.”

You hesitate for a moment, completely caught off-guard - you don’t even remember telling him that. But he does.

“Oh, that. Well, no. But, I didn’t write it, exactly - I called some sources, did some editing, but… it wasn’t exactly mine.”

He shakes his head as he raises the coffee mug to his lips.

“That’s still not right - you deserve it. I’ll march down there and tell ‘em that myself.”

You feel something flutter in your chest, in a way that’s achingly familiar, because it’s so Steve. 

“Yes, well - I think I can handle that for myself, thanks.”

It’s meant to be a joke, but sounds more defensive than you intend - did you intend it that way? But, you can't think on it, because the wall is put back up. You can see it in his face, how it hardens, how he straightens up a bit - he was just starting to relax, both of you were, but that iciness remains.

Before you can say anything, a waitress is approaching, carrying a tray full of food. You vaguely recognize her - middle-aged, with a friendly face and massive perm. Is her name Joan, maybe? You feel just a little sad, starting to feel more detached from the town you grew up in than you ever have before.

“The full breakfast for you, young man - and a full stack for you, with extra syrup,” she says enthusiastically.

You look at Steve, and raise an eyebrow. He just offers a small smile, and shrugs.

“I ordered before you got here - I figured you’d never say no to pancakes, right?”

“I - yeah, no, that’s great. Thanks, Steve.”

You set yourself on pouring the side of syrup over the plate, and Steve just shakes his head.

“So I was right - you still like to drench everything in sight in syrup,” he says playfully.

“Shut up,” you retort, earning a chuckle from him. It’s slightly forced, but still nice to hear - you hadn’t been sure if you remembered what his laugh sounds like anymore. 

“Thanks, though,” you add. “I’m actually pretty hungry.”

You both sit in silence while you eat. It’s strange, how something can be simultaneously so uncomfortable yet familiar. The booth is the same, with its worn vinyl, the sticky tabletop, the smell of coffee and syrup and eggs settling wrapping around you like a warm hug. But then there’s you and Steve, the only unrecognizable thing in this diner - still technically the same people who had slid into this booth as teenagers, but a bit older, more hardened, and something irreparable separating you.

“So,” you say after a while. “Uh, I realize I talked a lot about myself, but… how are things with you?”

He glances up at you for a moment, and shrugs.

“Oh, you know - the same. Working at Family Video, hanging out with Robin, the kids - I guess they’re hardly kids anymore. But, you know me - not much to report.”

There’s an edge to his voice, and it takes you a moment to remember why. You had managed to block out most of your argument from last winter, because the memory of it riddles you with an immeasurable guilt. But, you remember now:

Uproot your life? Be serious Steve - you couldn’t take a week off from your minimum wage job, chauffeuring a bunch of teenagers, and maybe being Daddy’s punching bag?

You suddenly want to sink into the floor, because if Steve is intentionally giving you a cold shoulder, you can’t say you don’t deserve it. But, wasn’t him asking you to meet him here, his way of extending an olive branch? Or, was it just to get some closure?

It’s an elephant in the room, this great big thing making it impossible to be near him, making your stomach turn intermittently. So, it has to be addressed, eventually - it needs to be ripped off like a band-aid.

“Hey, Steve - I… I’m sorry.”

He looks up at you, meeting your eyes properly. 

“What for?” he asks quietly.

You sigh, placing down your fork.

“You know what for,” you say firmly.

“Do I?”

He’s playing a game, his words a little more biting. This is going to be even harder than you thought, you realize - and you had already been prepared for it to be godawful.

“I - last time I saw you… I said some things I regret. Some really shitty things. And, you didn’t deserve that. I -” you steady yourself for a moment, taking a deep breath to combat the heaviness in your throat. Your chest is tight, your palms clammy.

“I just, um - I’ve played that argument in my head, like, a million times. And, I’ve felt a lot of things. Sometimes I get angry, upset, or just plain sad. But most of the time… I just feel shame. Like, utter, fucking shame. So, it may not mean much at this point, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fix this but… I’m sorry.”

You do mean it, every word, and there’s something unbelievably cathartic about finally saying the words that have been playing through your mind for a year. You’ve played this conversation in your mind a thousand times, and for once, you think that maybe you’re not screwing it up.

Steve’s face is unreadable - you can tell he’s thinking, and listening, but it’s hard to gauge what he’s really thinking. 

After a moment, he simply asks, “Then why did you leave?”

“What?”

“Why did you leave? When you didn’t come back this past summer, I - I thought you were gone for good. That I’d never see you again.”

He says it matter-of-fact, blandly, like he’s trying to stave off any emotion. You don’t really know what to say to that - did you think you’d ever actually see him again? Did you want to?

Honesty, you decide - at this point, it’s the least you owe him, even if you don’t actually know what the truth is.

“I - I thought I was, too. Gone for good, I mean. It wasn’t an actual choice - like, I didn’t think I wanted to stay away forever. But, you were right about one thing - I’ve always wanted to get out of Hawkins, and leave it all behind for something else. Any yeah, whenever I was gone, I missed you, Robin, my family… but then, when - well, when that happened… I got the internship offer, the chance to stay in my apartment, to start my life in the city. So, I decided to stay there. I ran, because… because I’m a coward. And, because I figure you hate my guts, and it’d be easier if you didn’t have to deal with me anymore.”

Because I couldn’t bring myself to face you, because I’d rather miss you than be hurt even more, because I -

“No,” he whispers.

“No what?”

“No, you’re not a coward,” he says firmly. “You’re a lot of things - Smart. Talented. Stubborn. Honest. A terrible singer, and a sugar addict -”

Despite everything, you find yourself laughing at him, because there he is again, the Steve you know.

“- but a coward? No, no way. Maybe you were scared but… that’s not the same thing, not really. I mean, you got out of Hawkins, you’re kicking ass at your dream job before you’re even done with school - that’s not a coward, got that? And… I don’t know how you could ever think that I hate you. Ever.”

He leans back in the booth after that, some tension visibly leaving his body as he gets it off of his chest. You just feel yourself freeze, your ears roaring, eyes burning.

“I - Steve, don’t -”

“I mean it,” he says. “I was hurt, and pretty pissed - maybe I still am, I don’t know. But hating you… that’s not something I could do.”

For not the first time in your life, you feel the sudden urge to protect this boy, to want to give him everything, to make sure nothing ever hurts him again. But you can’t say it, because it’s not quite a feeling you can put into words, unless -

“Promise?” you ask, perhaps a bit pathetically.

“Promise,” he says. 

With Steve, it’s easy to believe him, even if it’s only for a moment.

*****

When you’ve both drank your bodyweight in coffee, cleared your plates, and exhausted conversation, you make a move to leave the diner. Steve insists on paying, dropping bills on the table as you both re-emerge into the cold December air. After the warmth of sitting inside, the outdoors bites your skin, flushes your face. You wrap your scarf just a little tighter, shoving your hands in your pockets as you both walk to the parking lot. 

The day is already starting to dull, and thanks to the peak winter season, you know that there’s probably only about an hour of daylight left. Neither of you speak for a while, not until you reach Steve’s car. The familiar red BMW makes you want to cry, and you suddenly feel stupid for even feeling so attached to something like a car. But, it’s not a car - it’s an extension of Steve.

“Well, thanks,” you say carefully. “I - I’m glad we got a chance to talk properly. To clear the air, I guess.”

There’s still so much to be said, so many questions you want to ask - but maybe you’d never really know the answers to those.

He just kicks at the gravel, scuffing his Nikes as he contemplates.

“Me too. I mean, uh - do you have anywhere you need to be?”

You shake your head cautiously.

“Um, no? I already dropped my groceries at home, but I’m probably not going to start baking until tomorrow… I think my parents are out tonight, anyways. Wait, why?”

He shrugs, leaning back against the side of the car.

“Well… wanna go for a drive?”

He asks it so simply, as if no time has passed at all. In your high school days, and when you’d visit for college breaks, going for an aimless drive was a frequent occurrence, just an excuse to spend time together. But now, it feels like more than that - a peace offering, an attempt at normalcy. 

“Oh! Um - yeah, sure. Why not.”

When you slide into the passenger seat, everything is the same - not that you had really expected anything else. The dusty dashboard, the worn-leather smell, the crackly radio - all the same, like you had never left.

“Where are we going?” you ask casually as Steve backs out of the lot. You pull off your big red scarf, tossing it into the back seat as heat wafts through the vents.

“Dunno. Wherever we feel like, I guess.”

The answer is the old parking lot adjacent to Hawkins High, tucked right between the school and an old Methodist church. It’s basically deserted, the middle of the work and school day making you and Steve one of the only cars here.

After he parks, the boy just sighs, leaning back in his seat and shutting his eyes. You let him just do that for a while, the Christmas music on the radio serving as the only form of company. You stare ahead across the street, at the old high school building. The girl and boy who walked those halls a few years ago don’t exist anymore, not really - instead, there’s the versions of you and Steve sitting here in this car, changed.

“D’you ever miss it?” you ask.

“Hm?”

“High school. I mean, I know a lot of it is bullshit, and I think I’d die if I had to take another algebra test, but… do you ever miss parts of it.”

He thinks for a moment, before sighing and straightening up in his seat.

“Yes and no. I do think some things were a lot more simple back then. I mean, I was an asshole, but I kind of got my shit together towards the end. But, to answer your question - do I wish that my biggest problem was winning the next basketball game, or which girl I was going to take to prom? Yeah. Of course.”

You think about his words for a moment, and echo a similar sentiment - a desire for a life that was simpler, more carefree than you had realized at the time.

“We’re getting old,” you joke.

He laughs heartily, nodding in agreement.

“Oh, yeah - we’ll be in the old folks home, soon enough.”

You both laugh at that, the feeling and sound of it nearly foreign.

“Do you think we’re all going to end up like our parents?” you ask, voice a bit firmer.

He pauses again, staring straight ahead out the front window.

“No,” he concedes. “I hope not.”

The hours pass, the dusk quickly turning into the heavy cloak of night. The pair of you mostly sit in silence after that, occasionally swapping an old memory from childhood, laughing at a story from your high school days, occasionally wondering aloud where some of your former friends and classmates are today.

“I wonder if Tommy H. and Carol are still together,” you wonder aloud.

Steve groans. “Ugh, don’t remind me of them.”

“Why not? You guys were friends -”

“Yeah, that’s the problem. I wasted so much time with them, and people like them, just to be something I’m not. I just wish I had figured that all out sooner.”

“Why?” you ask. “I mean, I know they were kind of dicks, but… there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be popular in high school.”

“Maybe not,” he says. “But, I didn’t realize that what I really wanted - what I needed - was there in front of me, the entire time. And I didn’t need to chase anything.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, because you know what he’s getting at - you think back to that conversation years ago, in the haze of early summer, when he confessed to regretting distancing himself from you in high school. The same night he’d kissed you for the first time, when a lot of things happened for the first time -

You find yourself looking at the boy in the driver’s seat, and you want to reach across and just touch him - run your hands through his hair, brush along his face -

And you don’t realize that you’re leaning closer to him, you hand half-reaching out towards him. You catch it, pulling it back and settling it in your lap. But he’s looking at you with those big brown eyes, warm like honey, and they feel just a bit like home. And he’s leaning towards you, too, closer than he probably should be.

“Steve?” you ask, softer than a whisper.

“Yeah?”

You can feel the heat radiating off of him, contrasting with the cold fogging up the windshield glass, and he’s so close, the familiar smell of him becoming too much -

“I -”

Then, a screeching HONK, loud enough that you jump, your head nearly hitting the ceiling.

“Oh, fuck -”

“Jesus, sorry,” he says, realizing it just came from him, elbow pressed too hard into the steering wheel of his own car.

“It’s fine,” you say. Your eyes flit down to the clock on your dashboard, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Oh, wow - look at the time! I - I know my parents are out, but, it is pretty late -”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve says hurriedly. “Let me just drive you back,  I guess.”

“Sounds good!” you say, your voice a little too shrill, too enthusiastic. “Just bring me back to Gateway, actually - we left my car there.”

“Right, of course - I’ve got you.”

You two don’t say much else on the way back, letting Baby It’s Cold Outside and Sleigh Ride fill the silence instead. When Steve brings you back to the diner, you offer each other a curt nod, and you manage to get out a thanks again, I’ll see you at the party.

Before you can close the door, you’re stopped as he says “Hey, wait -”

“Mm?”

“Are we - are we friends again?” he asks. His voice is soft, pleading, his eyes wide and shining through the dimness of the night. You cross your arms and pull your coat tight, thinking carefully about your answer.

You want to say yes, of course, I don’t think we could ever not be friends, Steve. But then you remember what he had said all those months ago - those three words, which somehow crossed a line more than any amount of sex ever could. It’s what stops you, makes you hesitate, even as the boy stares at you expectantly.

“I - I don’t know,” you admit. “I guess I just - I need some time still, to figure stuff out. I don’t know if things can ever go back to the way they were, but -”

“They can’t?” he asks, sounding a bit defeated. You sigh, kicking yourself internally. You’re barrelling down a familiar path, and this whole thing could blow up again in an instant. So you gather yourself, measuring your response.

“I mean - not exactly as they were, no. But… I do miss you, Steve. More than I realized. So… I think it’s a start,” you decide.

He thinks for a moment, then slowly nods.

“Yeah, okay - I can do a start.”

You both just stare at each other for a moment, and you ultimately decide to step back. Before slamming the passenger door closed, you add, “Well - thanks again. I’ll see you on Saturday. At the party, I mean.”

He nods curtly, offering a semi-forced smile.

“Yeah - Saturday.”

When you’re back in your car, and you’re certain he’s driven away, you let your forehead rest on the steering wheel, wishing you could just melt into it and never come out again.

*****

It’s difficult to say whether you actually feel better after your day with Steve. Most of you says yes - apologies were made, the air was cleared, and for brief moments, it had felt as if nothing had happened at all. But, it also brought back memories - far too many memories. Little things, really - Steve’s laugh, they way his eyes glint in the sunlight, the smell of his cologne, the cigarettes he keeps in his glove box; the way he looks at you, the look he gets when you make a joke, the way he sounded saying I love y-

You’re pulled from your thoughts by the sound of your doorbell ringing. You glance at your bedside clock - it’s a little past 10pm, but there’s no way your parents could possibly be home yet…

You swing your legs over the side of your bed, shrugging on a sweater as you pad down the hallway to your front door. The doorbell rings again, and you roll your eyes - probably a last-minute late night delivery from out-of-town, because your mother always forgets something until a few days before Christmas.

When you open the door, the last thing you expect is Steve Harrington to be standing there in the dim porch light. His face is flushed from the cold, the flurries of snow dusting his hair, and he looks just a little too handsome. The sight of him makes you ache again, in a way you can’t quite explain. His eyes widen at the sight of you, as if you’re the last person he thought would be standing in the doorway of your own house.

“Steve! Hi! I, uh - what’re you doing here?” you ask with surprise. 

“Oh, um, you know,” he says, raising up a flash of red in his hand. “It’s just - you left this. In my car, I mean.”

You look properly at what he’s holding, and you make out what it is: your scarf. You hadn’t even realized it was missing.

“Oh! Um, thanks,” you say, taking it from his outstretched hand. Your fingers brush his, just for the briefest second. And, despite how cold his skin is, it feels like it lights you on fire at the contact. You pull back quickly, as if he’s actually burned you, and sling the scarf over your arm.

“Don’t mention it,” he replies, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

You both stand there for a moment. Two. The wind howls a bit, and you both shiver.

“Was there anything else?” you ask, hardly daring to raise your voice above a whisper.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean maybe?”

“Maybe?”

“No, I mean, yes - that’s all.”

You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

“So, you drove out here in the middle of the night, as the snow is starting, just to bring me my scarf back?” you demand.

He just stares at you, long enough that you wonder if he somehow didn’t hear you. Then, he’s taking a step forward, and whispering, “No.”

You’re not sure who moves first, but he’s crashing into you, arms tugging you into each other as his lips find yours.

You gasp as he kisses you, surprised by how right it feels, how easy it is. Your hand is fisted in his coat, and he brings his hands to both sides of your face as you back up through the doorway, pulling him with you.

He kicks the door closed behind him, hardly breaking the kiss - it’s desperate, and messy, and nothing is gentle about it. He kisses you like he’ll die if he doesn’t, enough to knock the breath from your lungs. And you don’t want him to stop, not ever, not if it means that you’ll never have to lose him again.

You stumble your way through the house, until you’re searching frantically for the door of your bedroom, the pair of you barrelling through it in a whirlwind and slamming it shut.

It’s the first time you’ve stopped kissing since he came through the doorway, and you both just stare at each other, chests heaving, hearts racing.

“I,” he starts. “I swear, I’m just trying to -”

“I know,” you whisper, bringing one hand up to card your fingers through his hair. “I’ve always known, Steve.”

He furrows his brow, confused.

“Always known what?”

But you don’t answer, and just pull him in for another kiss instead. It’s gentler this time, just a bit sweeter, and he’s sighing into your mouth.

He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer, the kisses becoming desperate again. With every kiss, you’re trying to say a million things: I’m sorry, I missed you, I need you, I could never hate you, I lo-

But neither of you speak, because it’s just desperate moans and gasps, wandering hands and and tongues, and trying to touch anything, everything.

You don’t know when he shrugged off his coat, but you’re tugging at his sweater, perhaps a bit too desperately. He chuckles and steps back for a moment, pulling it off in one swift movement before bringing his hands to your head again, pulling your lips to his. It’s like you’re both addicted, unable to go more than a moment without touching each other. The distance and times is washing away, with every kiss, every brush of skin, every piece of clothing shed. 

He’s pulled your own sweater off of you, making a point to kiss the exposed skin of your shoulder and down the valley of your breasts, and you moan.

“Fuck, baby -” you gasp. “I - I”

“What do you need?” he asks, voice wild and desperate. “Tell me, anything you want, baby.”

“Just touch me, dammit,” you breathe, earning a laugh from him.

“I thought you’d never say that,” he growls, gently pushing you so you’re walking backwards. You let yourself fall as soon at the back of your knees hit the bed, and he’s hastily fumbling with the button of your pants.

In any other situation, you’d want him to take his time, to take it slowly, sweetly. But you don’t have the patience for that, not right now. SO you help him, popping the button and shimmying your pants down your legs, reaching around and unhooking your bra for good measure. As the straps slide down your arms and it falls off of you, he groans.

“Fuck - you’re so fuckin’ perfect, you’ve no idea -”

Your heart flutters at the praise, but you just pull him close to you, crashing his lips into yours again.

“Steve - please -”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” he concedes, guiding you backwards. “Lay back, baby.”

You oblige, breath hitching in your throat as his lips wander along your throat, your breasts, swirling his tongue around your nipple. You gasp and arch your back, and the sounds you’re making only push him further, his lips traveling down, down, down -

Then he’s pulling your panties down your legs and kissing you everywhere - your ankle, the inside of your knee, your thigh, and then -

When he first licks a stripe along your slit, you let out a strangled cry, practically flying off the bed as you arch up. He practically growls, pressing his lips to his clit as he does, and you’re pretty sure you’re whimpering.

“Oh, fuck - Steve, that’s it - right there. I - ah! - add your finger there, yes -”

He’s working on you like it’s his job, lapping at you like a starving man. His tongue circles slowly around your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, and you hear the sound of your slick, your heaving breaths and pleas filling the room. You grip the sheets, bringing your heels to his bare back to press him closer into you.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he breathes into your cunt. “It’s so hot, baby - you taste so good -”

He’s speaking nonsense, half muffled as he licks at you, but the praise is enough for you.

You can’t even warn him, your orgasm hitting you embarrassingly fast. You come hard, screaming his name as you throw your head back and practically buck into his mouth. He continues licking at you softly, gently working you down from your high.

“That’s it, there you go - God, I love how you sound when you come,” he whispers, his breath fanning over your core. When it becomes too much, you gently tap his head, signaling him to come up for air. He pulls himself up slowly, hovering over you with a big grin on his face.

“Hi,” you breathe.

“Hi.”

His chin and lips are coated in your slick, but you don’t care. You pull him down into another kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.

“You doing okay?” he asks as he pulls back, taking a moment to brush some hair from your face. You nod, unsure if you’re able to speak quite yet. So instead, you reach downwards, fumbling with his belt and button, biting your lip as you fumble in the dark between you two.

“Whoa, okay, hang on,” he says, pulling back to stand up for a moment. He rids himself of his pants quickly, his boxers the only remaining clothing between you two. Then he’s hovering over you again, smiling as you start kissing him. You reach down and start palming at his clothed bulge, straining against the confines of his underwear.

He groans into your neck, and shakily places his hand over yours and pulls it back.

“Wait, wait, baby - as much as I want you to touch me… I think this is gonna be over way too fast if I let you do that.”

You feel pride surge in your chest, the idea that you can have that kind of effect on this beautiful boy above you. So instead, you say nothing, and move to sit up. You wordlessly guide him, coaxing him to lay back against the mattress so you can straddle him.

He’s looking at you like you might not be real, and in that moment, you’re not sure if he is, either. So instead, you help him pull off his boxers, letting his hard cock spring free. It looks nearly painful, and you want nothing more than to make him feel good, to give him anything he wants.

So, without much ceremony, you take his cock in your hand. He hisses at your touch, and as you raise yourself over him, you meet his eyes one more time - are you sure?

He just nods, and you lower yourself onto him, enveloping him inch-by-inch. You both moan at the feeling, moving yourself slowly as he stretches your walls. He screws his eyes shut and throws his head back, groaning at the feeling of you around him. After what feels like a painstakingly long time, he bottoms out, filling you so completely that you think you might cry. 

You sit there for a moment, both getting used to the feeling - it had been a while for you, and if you had to guess, it had been for him as well.

“Can I move?” you ask after a moment. He just nods, eyes finally flying open to focus on you.

You being rocking back and forth, slowly, and he looks as if he’s died and gone to heaven. Soon enough, though, you begin to pick up the pace, bouncing on his cock as he rocks into you. He shifts until he’s nearly sitting up, gathering you close to his chest and you continue to rock in his lap. He snakes his hand down to where you meet, rubbing fast, messy circles on your clit. The sounds filling the room are just the slapping of skin, heaving breaths, and a slew of dirty words falling from both of you, incoherent and out of control.

“Oh, fuck - baby, you feel so good - so fuckin’ warm and tight, just for me -”

“I - oh, God - you’re amazing. Your cock is so big, filling me perfectly -”

“So beautiful, riding me like this - I can’t believe you came so quick before, babe - can you do it again?” he whispers, mouthing at the skin behind your ear. You just nod, burying your face into the warm skin of his shoulder, meeting his thrusts as he fucks up into you.

Then he angels himself perfectly, hitting that spot inside of you, and you start to cry out.

“I’m close, oh god, Steve - right there, harder, please, fuck me harder -”

You feel his cock twitch inside you, and feeling just a little bit evil, you squeeze around him. He sounds as if you’ve killed him, pressing his teeth into your shoulder.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna -”

“Come for me, Steve,” you whisper. “Come when I do.”

He mouths at your neck, and as you feel the familiar hook pulling in your abdomen, it hits you - what both of you need, right now, in this moment. You slow your movements slightly, pulling back to look him in the eye.

“Steve?” you breathe.

“Mm?”

You take his face in your hands, kissing him sweetly, completely in contrast with the way he was roughly fucking up into you. You’re both growing more sloppy, more desperate, chasing your respective highs.

“I - I love you,” you whisper.

That’s enough for both of you. You snap, throwing your head back and screaming as you squeeze and convulse around him. You’re seeing stars, the warmth spreading through you and your orgasm hits your like a train.

Steve follows a second behind, cock twitching and spilling into you as he cries out your name like a prayer, mumbling sweet nothings into your skin as you slow your rhythm, riding out your orgasms together. His hips stutter, then still, only the sounds of your rapid breathing and racing hearts to accompany you.

He still has his arms wrapped around you, chests flush to each other. Steve starts pressing gentle, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder, his hand slowly rubbing your back. Neither of you say anything, not for a while - the wind howls outside, the snow falling a bit more now.

Eventually, he starts to soften in you, and you pull yourself off, clambering to the other side of the bed. He wordlessly reaches for the unmade comforter and pulls it over you both, noting the goosebumps forming on your skin.

You both just lay there, side-by-side, staring at the ceiling as you wait for your breathing to return to normal. It’s him who finally breaks the silence, because it always is.

“That was -”

“-amazing,” you finish breathlessly, turning your head on the pillow towards him. It’s a tiny bed, and you’re practically nose-to-nose. He’s smiling softly, still blissed-out from what happened only moments ago.

“So… what you said,” he says quietly. “Did you mean it? Like, really mean it?”

And he looks terrified, like your answer might break him, and it makes you want to cry. You want to crack open your chest and draw him inside, keeping him safe right next to your heart. You reach across and gently brush your fingers along his face, ghosting over his cheek and jaw.

“Yes,” you whispered. “Of course I did. I think I have for a long time, Steve.”

His face crumbles, and he sighs with relief, turning up to kiss your palm.

“Did you?” you ask, anxiety creeping into your chest. You’re not even sure if he remembers when he said it last year. He looks confused, but only for a moment.

“Wait - did I - I did, didn’t I?” he says, shaking his head incredulously.

“When I said that, I - it was in the moment, and I almost swore I didn’t - I’ve played that moment, that entire night, in my head almost every day. And - and never knew for sure if I actually said what I felt.”

You feel your heart flutter, your stomach doing somersaults.

“So - you meant it?” you ask cautiously.

He smiles again, big and wide, and gently presses his lips to yours.

“Yes,” he breathes. “I’ve loved you as long as I’ve known you. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”

“Since we were five?” you ask, feeling like the wind has been knocked from your lungs. He just nods. You nuzzle your nose into his, and softly whisper, “Well, I love you too, Steve Harrington.”

LATER, WINTER 1989

It’s loud, warm with bodies, and hazy from smoke - you make you way through the crowd, drink in-hand. You glance at the clock - it’s 11:57, where is he -

“Hey you!” a voice shouts. You laugh as RObin slings her arm around you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek.

“Hey!” you laugh, pulling her close into a side hug. “Where’ve you been?” 

“Well, I was talking to Nancy, but there’s only so much canoodling with Jonathan that I can handle.”

You chuckle, glancing over at where the couple stands in the corner, practically devouring each other.

“Well, where’s Vickie?” you ask, searching over the crowded living room.

“She went to get more champagne, but I don’t - oh! Look, they found each other!”

You follow her gaze, and settle on Robin’s redheaded girlfriend - talking to Steve. You relax at the sight of him, even though he had been by your side only a few minutes ago. He smiles when you spots you, holding out an arm to wrap around you as you sidle up to him.

“Hi,” he says softly, quietly enough that you hardly hear him over the music. 

“Hey, you,” you reply, earning a kiss on the crown of your head.

“Is it almost time?” you ask. Robin glances at her watch, and practically jumps.

“Oh, gosh, yeah! Okay, everyone!” she shouts, scrambling to stand on a chair. Most of the room directs their attention to her, raising their glasses and letting out a few whoops and cheers.

“Alright people, grab someone pretty, make a few resolutions - and say goodbye to the 80s!”

Everyone cheers, and Robin looks down at her wrist again.

“Okay! Ten! Nine -”

Steve pulls you close by your waist, gazing down at you like you’re his whole world. Though, you know that there’s a good chance it’s true. He brushes your hair to the side, and whispers, “Ready for 1990?”

You know what promises the new year will bring - you, starting your full-time job in New York, in the apartment that you and Steve are getting together, with the promise of always coming back to Hawkins for the holidays. A life, that you’re building together, after so many years of dancing around it. It makes sense that you’ve ended up here, ringing in a new decade after being a part of each other’s lives for nearly as long as you’ve known.

“Five! Four! Three -”

You grin, bringing your hand to the nape of his neck.

“As long as it’s you and me, Harrington.”

“ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Robin screams, followed by a series of applause and cheers.

Steve meets you halfway, and kisses you like he always does, enough that you melt into him like you’ll die if you aren’t attached to him. There’s no need to run anymore. Because, as long as you’re with Steve, you’re home.

Author’s note: well, that’s the end of TTDS. I’m sorry for the wait, but I hope it was worth it! I’m diving into my new Steve series next, and working through my inbox for some blurb requests. But, if you’d like to request prompts/blurbs based on this story, I’d be happy to do that - I think it’s be fun to see other scenes from throughout or after the events of this story. I appreciate every like, reblog, comment, and message - I read every single one. Let me know what you think of the story! Merry Christmas to all who celebrate, and I’ll see y’all in the new year!

Taglist: @cityofidek @decadentwastelandtrash @fallingwithoutcaution @selfdeprecatingnerd @scream-still-screaming @le-who-zer-her @freezaz123 @andrewgarfieldsupremecy @shireentapestry @divinelovers @thatstoomuchman @buckleysbitch @evansflowers @untoldshortsofthefandoms @godcreatoreli @hotelfohn @thesillynonsense @itsfloorcry @dullsocietyy @draynmelol @the-winter-spider @suniloli @livid-euphoria @iknowrocknroll @tsundere-exe @palmtreesx3 @boxofsmittens @bradleysgirl @etherealforever234 @jxackles

[roachemoji]

Stranger Things - Season 3 thread 03 01

LETS GO GIRLS!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay okay okay starting off strong 1984 i see you i see you all these bald men are so sweaty and shiny and exhausted looking.

OH THE VFX BUDGET WENT UP BABBBEYYY OH LOOK AT THAT SHIT THATS COOL AS FUCK

So El isnt the one who opened the gate OG?? Really sick that they needed that much power to do it only forit to backfire and some little girl could do it with ease - OUFH SORRY TO THE BITCHES WHO JUST GOT EXPLODED

i understand why the bald men are sweaty and exhausted looking

SO WHY DO THEY WANT TO GET IN THERE SO BAD!!!!! OH THIS IS THE RUSSIAN PLOT PART YEAHHH

is this like ....... wanting to win the coldwar type shit??? because we're past the space race and into the 80s.... (<- guy who doesnt know much about this specific subject of history tbh)

EL LOOKS SO GOOD - fucking hate seeing them kiss im so sorry it makes me so uncomfortable - FEELING REAL HOPPER THOUGH LIKE ITS ICKY but also damn KING GIVE UR KID SPACE

i fucking LOVE THE shift in colours in this season !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LIKE ITS SO BRIGHT I LOVE IT!!!! AND STEVEEEE!!!!!! AND I FINALLY GET TO MEET ROBIN!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh this movie is foreshadowing some shit i can feel it. labesq SHIT!!!!!!! AND THEN THE POWER GOING OUT!!!!!!!!!!! this means things my brain is too small to make proper connections

OH SHIT LITTLE ME!!!!!!!

YEAH SEE Lost smoke monster !!!!! somethings thers i just know it

"im not gonna fall in love" "ok"

JOYCE MY BELOVED

booOOOOOBBBBBBBB!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DUSTIIINNNNNNNNNN

<- guy whose just REALLY EXCITED TO SEE THEIR FAV LITTLE MAN

GIRLIES WHO ARE WE LOOKING COOL FOR IM -

thought it waas gonna be gay forgot Billy existed

HOPPER IS ACTUALLY A FUCKING INCEL IM CRYING ITS BEEN LIKE 20 MINUTIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! KING OH MY GOD SHUT UP rooted for you but nah youve really always been like this

A Heart to Heart? What is that? <- man whose never been shown compassion???? WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DONT KNOW WHAT THAT IS shut up

ngl tho me n hopper shaking hands how to you approach people about things without people helping you write shit out word for word

this entire board roOM REMINDS ME OF THE BEGINNING OF SEASON 2 OF FARGO - but she a woman TYPE SHIT AKSHJD

Nancy is. trying so HARD and girl i am so sorry

HIS GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND THE WAY HE TALKS ABOUT HER <3333

Steve. i got nothing to add he just. wow

ROBIN I LOVE HER I L OVE THE PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS ON THIS SHOW!!!!!!!!!!!!

Its romantic <- jealousy

Its gross <- somehow not jealousy tho sorry

Its bullshit <- jealousy

BRO ARE HE LLO WHAT PIED PIPER SHIT IS HAPPENING???? CRYING AT ALL THE LITTLE CGI GUYS LOOK AT THEM ALL!!!! THEY ALL HAVE LITTLE WHITE FEET THO???? THOSE ARE. exploding. theyre exploding. :(

ENOUGH OF HIM I DONT WANT TO SEE HIM I WANT TO SKIP THROUGH HIS MOMENTS I ACTUALLY HATE HIM SO FUCKING MUCH IM IN. PAIN. LIKE. OU GH. THE. SECOND HAND EMBARASSMENT IS? PAINFUL I HATE THIS I HATE THIS I HATE THIS I HATE HIM I HATE HIM IHATE HIM PHYSICALLY GAGGING

LUCAS AND MAX mAKE me so happy and MAx is still transmasc coded in my heaRTTTTT

DUSTIN BABY IM SO SORRY YOURE HAVING A MY CANADIAN GF MOMENT BUTSHES MORMON AND FROM UTAH

SHOWING MomEnts of Joyce being so happy and gENUINELY IN LOVE WITH BOB JUST HURTS SO MUCH HE WAS SO FUCKING GOOD. RAGE RAGE RAGE RAGE RAGE RAGE RAGE

oh now we have shit with MAGNETS and the spaceship space race cold war babbeyyyy

DISEASE RATS!!!!!!!

HOPPER ASHING ON HIS FACE KING????? OW?????????????????????

This is so uncomfortable bro my dad did this to me once and it was horrifically misguided on his part and he was making some wild ass assumptions about my relationship with certain people and oUGADHADKAJSHAKSJH this isthe season of second hand embarassment and its PAINFUL

MIKE IS JUST MA KING IT WORSE PLEASE SHUT UP I OH MY GOD OH MY GOD I KEEP PAUSING IT BC I CANT HANDLE THIS

HOPPER H ELLO ????

IM

THIS IS

BRO THIS fucking entire season is gonna be so fucking painfULLLL STOP STOP STOP like the. BROOOOO stop stop stop whose got a link to a breakdown of the family dynamics between everyone and how fucked up everyone is i cant even put thi sinto words im just losing my mind hopethis makes sense

SORRY DUSTIN I !!! GOD. PICKING UP RUSSIAN SHIT INSTEAD OF HIS GF SORRY

i literally cant handle this weird Billy fucking Milfs arc and i cant even begin to stress how much i fucking hate it and him. I have literally no room in my heart for that piece of shit

im SORRY to KaREN WHEELER THOUGH LIKE DAMN GIRL your mariage is in shambles and you really want to be fucked by THIS GUY ?

HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IDIOT FUCKING GET ATTACKED BY FERAL DISEASED RATS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CALLING ALL RATS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

KILL!!!!!!!!!!!!

i know he fucking dies but iM GONAN LOSE MY MIND DOES HE GET FUCKIGN KILLED BY STOPP STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP THIS IS SO FUC NNY YEAHH HYEAHHH BABEY FUCKING GET HIS ASSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE

[maul1703]

Dear diary, my birthay is almost here. I don't have any weed left. I bought a good stock and spend most of my money on it. It is like a birthday gift for myself because i know i will not receive any gift. Weed is also only thing that help me sleep well without anxiety.

I'm thinking mostly in these days. Thinking, thinking and thinking again about my life. I do have friends around me but their presence feels like strangers. I can't deny that they love me. I love them too but I can't just bond with them. If i just dissappear or die they will be like "oh what a tragedy at this young age. Anyway life goes on." And they will forget about me in 2 month completly.

I have family members and lot of cousins. One of my cousin is more than just cousin. We grow up like brothers. Tomorrow he will make a marriage proposal to his girlfriend and he want me to be there with him. Im so happy for him to be honest. He will experience something that i will never experience. Because some broken people like me can't find peace in their life. I can't even imagine myself with a wife and happy family. Not that because i don't want to but i just can't. It feels cringe to think about that.

But i did accept the truth that i am alone. But in the end i know that i have god with me. I was never kind of a guy that fanatic or religious. But gods presence pushing me forward. It reminds me he is close to me than my blood vessels. I am trying to be more kind and good person every day. Not because of i am scared of being punished at judgement day it just feels like right thing to do. While im smoking alone at my secret place, one cat came to me and sit on my lap. His fur was so soft and he start purr immediatly while im petting him. I was so high but i just get up from the place i sit and found a market that i can buy something for him. I bought some saussage and salami for my little friend.

He ate it all probly he was hungry. I talk about how i feel at that moment with that beautiful animal. Recently what happened in my life, my life story. He just said meow and get closer to me on my lap. That little guy was like "dont worry human, i will be here for you tonight and keep you company" It was like a angel send by god to me.

As i said before, my birthday is almost here and i really dont like the day i born. When i was kid i was always so excited about it. It was like a day that make me feel special. But after a time, it just reminding me how hard is life. But im always trying my best and fighting. Im trying to find things that will make me hold on to life. It can be small smile from a stranger at market or a cat trying to climb on my leg at bus stop. I hope things will be better in time. I am working for it but i also need some luck. I hope i made it one day.

[demonmary]

two discount lives: a marytoni fic

chapter one.

Mary is alone. For the first time since she went to sleep with two young sons and a loving husband and a beautiful home, for the first time since she woke up to blood and fire and death and then nothing, nothing for so long, and now this…

For the first time since that, Mary is alone. Or feels alone.

She is sitting in a car that doesn’t belong to her (not even by marriage anymore - no - her husband is dead, and everyone is acting like this is old news, even though Mary just found out, god her John is dead and she just found out) on some road she’s never driven, on some hunt she’s got no choice but to be on. She’s quickly falling back into her old ways of living someone else’s life. 

Because this? This is not Mary’s life. It can’t be.

[read on a03 or continue below]

Sitting in the driver’s seat of Mary’s dead husband’s car is a 37-year-old man who’s calling her mom, like this is normal, like she wasn’t holding four-year-old-him on her hip what feels like yesterday, like Mary wasn’t 29 today and somehow 28 thirty-four years ago.  

Last night she burned. This morning she’s alive.

She has no time to process any of this, of course, because she’s on the way to get her six-month-old son who is actually 33 now; oh my god, Mary is going to be sick. 

“Stop the car,” Mary feels herself say the words but does not recognize the voice, not through the pounding of blood in her ears and the taste of smoke in her mouth. 

She doesn’t need to look up to see the worry painted across the man’s face. She can hear it in his panicked reassurances and the way he keeps calling her mom, always mom, like she is supposed to recognize him as her own and not see him as the stranger that stands before her. 

As the car that once belonged to her heaven-husband and is now being driven by her stranger-son skids to a stop on the side of a country road, Mary flings the door open to take a breath of fresh air, and her lungs find only dust. She chokes on her inhale and spits out onto the road, trying to clear the grit from the inside of her cheeks and from down inside her throat. 

She will be fine. She always is. Not even turning their family home into her funeral pyre can keep Mary down. 

******************

They’re driving again, hopefully pointed towards Sam, little perfect-baby Sammy, and imperfect-Mary hates how she can’t think about him too much. She hates how thinking of her baby brings knots to her stomach and nails to her palms before she realizes her hands are fists. She supposes some of that guilt doesn’t belong to her, not now that Sammy is his own adult.

She also supposes that thought makes her kind of evil, or at least selfish, and aren’t those two things one and the same for women?

Mary realizes she must have been quiet for too long because the man beside her - Dean - breaks the silence, all bundled nerves and worry, and it reminds Mary of her Dean, always fussing and fixing.  

“You, um,” Dean starts, stumbling a little on his introduction. “You can talk to me, you know, if you want to. I know that…” A long pause, then a rush of words follows, and hearing them fills Mary with a confusing rush of guilt. “From experience, the whole dying thing can be sorta shocking.”

Mary tears her gaze away from her hands and forces herself to look at her son.  

Her son.  

Dean was supposed to get away from this. He was four years old, and he wanted to take dance classes, and he had just learned how to braid Mary’s hair - loose and uneven, but braids nonetheless - and his hands were so small. Tiny, gentle things that pulled at her apron and played clumsily with the bow tied at the back. The man she sits next to now grips the wheel with bruised knuckles and gunmetal-calloused fingers, talking about death like she’s an old friend. 

He was supposed to get away. 

“I don’t remember anything after the fire. Death was like blinking.” Mary says it to reassure him. It’s unsettling to her, but nothing is better than something, at least if she bases that on the relief that slides off of Dean when she says it.  

She decides not to ask about her son’s death. They’re both here now, so it cannot matter.  

***************

They get to the farmhouse where her son is likely being held, and the guilt spreads like fire, burning hot in Mary’s stomach, swelling and kicking at her insides. She instinctively grips at the pain, wincing with the memories.  

It’s all her fault, all of it, the blood, the burning, all the death that came after and since. She doesn’t even know all that has happened while she’s been dead, but she knows it’s her fault. Her sons are older than her and have lived worse lives, and all of that is her fault too, her fault for not being there and her fault for setting those dominos in motion.  

Selfish. Selfish Mary, unwilling to lose her heaven-prescribed love, reluctant to see the fire through the forest and the forest for the trees. Dooming her family before it even began.  

Last month, Dean started preschool.  

Today, Mary’s son presses a gun into her hands and she tries not to cry. She doesn’t have time for tears now.

***************

When they open the door to the basement and Sam is there, she barely notices the years she missed through her son’s blood. The decades don’t matter when her baby is broken, shivering on the floor of a dirty basement. His age is covered by the burns, by the cuts, by the rage that Mary feels towards whoever or whatever did this to him.  

Dean rushes to his side, and Mary whips around, her fury blotted out by confusion when she sees a woman standing there, prim and proper, so viscerally out of place in her surroundings. The shock that Mary felt seemed to be mirrored back at her, the woman’s composure flickering for a moment before her expression washed clean.  

The woman waves her hand, and gold rings at the base of slim fingers flash across Mary’s vision before it starts to go dark in the corners. She’s staring, transfixed, at the center of the woman’s palm, suddenly noticing the blood flowing there, dark deep red, spilling down the woman’s wrist, and it’s a while before she realizes she cannot breathe. It’s the darkness that teases at the edges of her sight that finally clues her in - the fuzziness in her brain and the fading of her consciousness. 

Mary’s been choked before, felt a large hand squeeze against the sides of her breath, violent in the way it ripped the air from her lungs. It’s never been this soft before, this peaceful. She manages to look past the woman’s outstretched hand as the darkness starts to overcome her, and the two lock eyes.  

Mary and her killer. It’s simple. There’s no air here to distract from the clarity of it. 

She feels death curling around her feet, and it feels like the flames did, but cold this time. Ice cold and gripping.  

The grasp falters for a moment, and Mary strains to pull in a breath, a heavy one that rasps and drags down her throat and claws into her hungry lungs. The small intake of air brings clarity, and Mary senses something akin to surprise behind the mask of careful concentration that the other woman wears.  

Her killer’s lips are moving, but Mary cannot hear. Her focus is solely on the lack of breath in her lungs; the gasp she cannot take; the easy beauty of her killer; the comfort of the end.  

Death is familiar, Mary finds herself thinking. A ghost of a smile passes across her lips, and the darkness lapping at the sides of her vision begins to overtake her.  

The illusion is shattered with a sudden, violent start. Mary didn’t see it coming, and neither did her killer, but Dean had clambered to his feet and knocked her attacker to the ground, ending the peaceful grasp Mary was cradled within.  

The next breath of air that Mary takes in burns worse than death. 

a03 link! kudos and comments make my world go round and round. also reblogs r appreciated if u liked it!

[curseofbreadbear]

𝟹-𝟻 𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙶𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙳 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙾𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴.

001. I miss the Earth so much, I miss my wife / It's lonely out in space on such a timeless flight

And I think it's gonna be a long, long time / 'Til touchdown brings me 'round again to find / I'm not the man they think I am at home / Oh, no, no, no / I'm a rocket man / Rocket man, burning out his fuse up here alone

002.  I may have the space cowboy blues, but I'm still not missing you / Out here you can't smoke or drink / Deeper into delirium I sink / Six more months until I hit / Martian soil, sand and grit

003. Talk about space / Well, it's a beautiful place / But it's so damn cold / Sure, for the human race / But for the planets, and the stars, and everything else, and Mars / It's like paradise spread out with a butter knife

I can hardly stand the sight of it all / I can hardly stand the sound of it all / I can hardly stand the taste of it all / I can hardly stand the smell of it all

004. But I'm not broken, in my dream I win / And I take over, 'cause I'm no loser / And I'm in and you're not, bad dreams don't stop / But I'm all screwed up, a cosmic castaway, yeah / A cosmic castaway, yeah / A cosmic castaway

005. To the town of Agua Fria rode a stranger one fine day / hardly spoke to folks around him, didn't have too much to say / no one dared to ask his business, no one dared to make a slip / the stranger there among them had a big iron on his hip

001. What a sunny-side up day! / Perfect in every way! / However if you try to poach my egg, I'll poach your soul!! / He's not eggspendable / Yes, I'm being intentional / Eggbert is my new best friend, he will be with me til the end

002. Hello, I'm here / I'm living in the wall / I know I might be small / But I am the eighth wonder!

Eighth wonder of the world! / You'll never get to see / What in the name of God can I be?

003. Maybe I wanna be a cryptid, maybe I don't wanna exist in this world / When everyone's comments turn into scars / When everyone lies and says "Be who you are" / What if I wanna be a cryptid? / Maybe my ideal body is Bigfoot's

004. And I'm not your protagonist, I'm not even my own / I don't know anything / I don't even know what I don't know / And if you look outside you'll see disintegrating trees / The artificial way the sunlight bounces off the waxy leaves

005. So she said, “What's the problem, baby?” / What's the problem, I don't know / Well, maybe I'm in love / Think about it, every time I think about it, can't stop thinking about it

How much longer will it take to cure this? / Just to cure it, 'cause I can't ignore it if it's love / Makes me want to turn around and face me / But I don't know nothing about love, oh

001. It's hard to be charming and smart and disarming / It's hard to pretend you're the best / It's hard to fulfill everyone's expectations / It's hard to keep up with the rest

But I'm gonna win, I'm gonna try / I'll never lose, I'll never die / You've seen me before, you'll see me again / I'll never give up, I'll never give in / 'Til I'm bloody and bruised / 'Til I've broken my bones / 'Til I won't be abused / 'Til I'm laughing alone

002. Think about it this way: guided evolution / This will be a new breed, cutting edge but classic / Fully complementary, bold and self-sufficient / Symbolizing freedom and, of course, your product / When the logo's finished, then we will unveil it / Seven billion people instantly enlightened / Everyone's rebranded, all the fighting's over / Say goodbye to conflict, that design's rejected

003. My creation, is it real? / It's my creation, I do not know / No hesitation, no heart of gold / Just flesh and blood, I do not know / It's my creation, it's my creation, ooh / My creation, ooh, my creation / It's my creation

From my heart and from my hand / Why don't people understand my intentions?

004. Got a TV head / I wake up with my brain scattered / Feel numb, put on a screen, cuz it's easier to just pretend / Mama says: "Always try to look your best / Always try to look your best, TV Head"

Instead of looking like I feel / Making everybody wonder / Should I even be here anyway? / Cuz when the only thing that's real is the meaning hidden under what I try to write on the page / Maybe that's why I'm here / They need me / I feel the static in the air I breathe / It’s getting harder to keep holding up this TV

005. Losing my mind / It never felt so good to be alive / Crucify my name / I never felt more famous than today, where I am no one to nothing

And though I've been told / You gotta keep your spirit close / I let mine go / You, well maybe you could too / You molecule / You could be dancing along with particles and carbon to this song

tagged by: @zcmbierabbit​ ( thank you!! <3 ) tagging: YOU.

[maladaptivedaydreamingbullshit]

The Vanishing of Will Byers +You(S1E1)

Pairing: No romantic pairs.

Characters: Mike Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair, Will Byers, Dustin Henderson, Jim Hopper, Mrs/Mr. Wheeler, Nancy Wheeler, Barbra Holland, Steve Harrington, Tommy Hagan, Carol Perkins, Joyce Byers, Jonathan Byers, Holly Wheeler, You(y/n)

Summary: "You" are inserted into the world of Stranger Things. Season 1, Episode 1: The Vanishing of Will Byers ~Basically this is my DR for Stranger things but instead of my name I just put y/n.~

Word Count: 2,280

A/N: I started watching Stranger Things from the beginning so I could crush trivia, but my neurodivergent brain was like-- Okay? This is our identity now. So here we are. I have the first 4 episodes done and will try to do the rest of season one by the end of next week. Also rip if the tense changes because that is my main weakness.

Warnings: cussing, underage selling of drugs/alcohol, maybe others- let me know.

Stranger Things insert:

Season 1: 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7 , 8

I shouldn’t have left. I was supposed to be there for them... for him.

I was the monitor, the babysitter if you want to call it that. Their parents trusted me to make sure there wasn’t any cursing, extreme violence, or anything not meant for kids at the Dungeon and Dragons campaigns. I mostly agreed for Mrs. Wheeler’s food, and to get out of Hopper’s house. It always smelled like stale beer and cigarette smoke.

Mike. Dustin. Lucas. Will. All like little brothers to me. I mean sure, they didn’t like sports and just played DND all weekend, but they were genuine kids. I liked hanging out with them and hearing all their theories about all their comics, movies, and TV shows. And like I said, anything is better than being at Hopper’s place. This way, the parents pass me around for free childcare whenever they need it and I get a nice meal and a roof over my head.

My parents died when I was super small. According to everyone in Hawkings, they were, “Great people that everyone got along with and helped out whenever they could.” Real pillars of the community type of folks. Their case was never really solved. I’ve always felt weird about it, but no one really talks about it. From then on, I was passed around the community as a foster kid until Jim Hopper got the Shariff position and took me in permanently. He had his own shit to deal with, so we were basically just each other’s crutch. Not healthy, but the best we had. I was 10 then, now I’m 14 but I turn 15 in January. Hopper isn’t the worst foster dad or anything. We get along and he tries to do the whole ‘parent thing.’ I mean he even lets me drive his truck so I can practice for my license, but it is far from the true American Family dynamic.

—

It was right after Halloween and the kids wanted to play this campaign they had been putting together. They were 5 hours in, and I was totally bored. I had so much studying to do and it was impossible to do with Dustin and Lucas screaming at each other every 10 minutes.

“We should go back into the forest; we might have missed some things!”

“What? No! We need to keep going forward!”

It was endless.

“Oh—my—GOD! PLEASE! You are so loud! Can you do this just a BIT quieter?”

I sigh, draping the math book over my face. I have been trying to do the same question for 30 minutes.

They all looked over at me.

“Sorry, y/n.” Will stuttered. He was looking over his notes frantically to check if they should go back or not.

“Yeah, sorry y/n-- But DUSTIN is trying to lead us to failure. We don’t have all the tools to defeat the Demogorgon!” Lucas crossed his arms with a huff.

“WHAT? Will is more than capable of handling it with all the stuff we have. LUCAS is trying to waste our time with trivial things. Y/n I am sorry, but it is his fault.” Dustin was standing at this point, eyes narrowed at Lucas.

“I don’t CARE! Look, I love you—I really do! But shit guys, I have to study. I am just gonna go home early. Are you all okay if I leave?”

They all nodded and apologized some more. I grabbed my bag, hugged everyone, and ruffled Will’s hair. “Wicked!! Thanks guys!”

I ran upstairs and grabbed the Tupperware container of food Mrs. Wheeler set out for me. “Thanks Mrs. Wheeler! Gotta jet!”

I got on my bike and headed to Hopper’s house hoping he was at work or maybe just out doing whatever he does. I needed some peace and quiet. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate everything he has done for me, but the consistent smoking is heinous.

When I got there, Hopper’s truck was gone. Thank god. I spent the rest of the day doing my homework and studying. It was around 8:30pm and Hopper still wasn’t home. I was about to call the police station, but the power went out. It kept flickering off and on for what seemed to be an hour. I cut my losses and go to bed. Hopper will probably be back soon.

—

My alarm woke me up. Guess the power is back on. I made some breakfast for me and Hopper while he was passed out on the couch. As I headed out the door, a feeling of dread covered me. I tried to shake it off, but there was a weird electricity in the air. It felt— off.

I got off my bike and noticed that Will’s bike wasn’t there. He usually gets to school pretty early to miss those wannabe bullies. I shrugged it off, but still had that gross feeling. I didn’t get to see the other kids, before Steve Harrington pulled me into a bathroom. Oh, Tommy and Carol were there, too. Great.

“Can I help you?” I glared at the couple all but making out.

“Don’t look so jealous, y/n. You can always ask to join.” Tommy winked at me while Carol made kissy faces.

“Bite me!” I snapped back.

“Hey now,” Steve turned me, so I was just facing him. “Is that any way to talk to your best friend?”

I rolled my eyes and just stared at him.

“Look, I was just checking in on you. You’re spending so much time with those lame ass kids. I get that you’re getting Mrs. Wheeler’s homemade food, but you could always stay at my house.” He put his arm around my shoulders while extending his so-called hospitality.

I shrugged him off.

“Please, so I can have my choice of microwave dinners and your parents screaming at each other all the time? No thanks. And I am fine. Honestly, I thought you would want me to hang out with the Wheelers. With how hard you’re trying to get into Nancy’s pants.” I said looking at him, feigning innocence.

Steve chuckles, then pushes me against the wall.

“Shut your mouth y/n. I would hate for all the parents to find out their precious little babysitter sells weed and alcohol on the side.”

I narrow my eyes at him, “Is that what this is about? Making sure I don’t go straight edge on ya?” I scoff at him, “Whatever, dude. My lips are sealed.”

The warning bell rings and Steve steps away from me. I mimic zipping my lips and give him the fake key.

“Good girl,” he says, ushering me out.

I can’t stand him. How he gets all those girls to fall for him, I’ll never know.

—

That feeling never left. It just kept weighing heavier and heavier until my head was pounding. I rested my head on the cold metal of my locker. Praying death would just take me already.

“Are you okay??”

I turned my head and saw Nancy and Barbra. “No, I think I am dying. Tell your mom her meatloaf was amazing.”

They laughed and Nancy rolled her eyes.

“Seriously, y/n. You look sick.” Barbra looked pretty concerned.

“I don’t know, I feel like my head is going to explode. It started this morning..”

“Weird, maybe you should go home. Jonathan didn’t show up either, maybe something is going around.” Nancy fixed her hair in a mirror. 

“Wait, Jonathan isn’t here? I didn’t see Will’s bike this morning either…” I lifted my head. “I’m going to head out, tell Kaminsky it is an emergency.” 

I got my stuff all packed up and bolted out the main doors.

“Y/n?” 

I stopped.

Fuck.

I turned around with a sheepish smile and saw Hopper. 

“Where are you going?” He looked at his watch, “It isn’t 3. Are you actually trying to skip school right now?” 

“Me?? What are you doing here? I don’t feel good and I was going to check on the Byers. Will and Jonathan aren’t here today..” I hoped all the questions would throw him off. 

Hopper gets a faraway look in his eyes and grabs my arm.

“Callahan, tell the front office y/n is going home.”

Callahan does what Hop tells him. I look back at Hopper, “What is going on?”

We get to his truck and wait for Callahan to come back.

“Joyce came to the station this morning. Will is missing.”

My heart dropped. A million questions went through my head, the pounding getting worse. “Wha-”

Callahan opened the truck door and got in. 

“That lady didn’t think I was a real cop. So.. you might have to call them later.” 

—

Hopper told me to stay in his truck while they looked down Mirkwood. How did he just– disappear. He was at Mike’s house yesterday. I was supposed to be there for him. Now he is missing. I shouldn’t have left. This is my fault.. 

BANG!

My mind comes back to reality. Hopper gets into the truck.

“What was that? Did you find something?” 

He had a rough look on his face. “His bike.”

No. My hope dips. If he wasn’t with his bike.. 

“Do you think someone took him? Or.. maybe he was scared by something?” 

Hopper sighed. “I don’t know. But we are going to try to find him.” 

I don’t like how he said try.. 

We pull up to the Byers house, I hop out of the truck before Hopper stops. 

“Joyce! Jonathan! I am so sorry!” 

I run into their arms sobbing. Hopper pulls out Will’s bike and Joyce ushers everyone inside. 

She was following Hopper around, obviously very frustrated. I stay inside and wander into Will’s room. I was looking at his drawings when Hopper called my name. 

“Y/n! Come on, Powell is taking you to the Wheeler’s house. You will stay there for the night.”

“What? No. I am helping tonight!” 

“Absolutely not. We don’t know what happened and I can’t worry about taking care of you and looking for him. Now, GO!” 

Officer Powell ushered me out of the house and into the police car. 

This is so stupid. 

He is my friend. He was my responsibility! I should be looking for him.. 

We pull up to the Wheeler’s and Powell drops me off. 

Mrs. Wheeler made chicken. Mike was arguing with his mom about not helping look for Will. He would look at me for help but I stayed quiet. Nancy then started arguing about studying at Barb’s house. I looked at her, knowing she was lying. Definitely trying to hang out with Steve or something. They all started yelling at each other. Nancy started blaming Will about the curfew. Then. Mike brought up Steve. I looked at Mr. Wheeler as he idly ate his dinner.. Nancy got upset and left. Then, Mike stormed off downstairs. I looked at Holly, then at Mrs. Wheeler. 

“Uh.. this was delicious. But- I.. I’ll go check on Mike.” 

—

Down in the basement, Mike and I sat in a heavy silence. 

“Why didn’t you back me up? Don’t you want to find Will?”

I looked up at him. “Of course I want to find Will! But Hop has already forbidden me from doing so.. Of course.. if he doesn’t find out..”

Mike looks at me, confused. Then it clicks. He grabs his walkie calls for Lucas. 

We pack some supplies and head out. Luckily, I can use Nancy’s old bike. As we head out, we see Steve trying to sneak into Nancy’s room. He looked at me and Mike acting like he wasn’t trying to get on the roof. Mike rolled his eyes. 

“Try using your muscles!” I smirked at him.

He gave me a sarcastic smile and flipped me off.

—

We all make it to Mirkwood. It smelled like rain and started to thunder and lightning. 

“Hey guys? You guys feel that?” Dustin looks up and gets hit in the face by the rain. “ I think maybe we should go back.” 

“No!” Mike says sharply, “We’re not going back. Just stay close. Come on.”

We start into the woods where they found Will’s bike. 

“Just stay on channel six. Don’t do anything stupid.”

I look over and extend my hand towards Dustin. “Come on.. It’s just a little rain.”

—

It was not just rain. 

It was a full blown monsoon sized storm. I tried to keep my windbreaker close around me but the wind and rain cut through it like glass.

We all try screaming for Will, hoping to find him. 

“Guys, I really think we should turn back!” Dustin yells over the storm.

“Seriously, Dustin, if you want to be a baby, then go home already!”

Great.. Again with Lucas and Dustin bickering.

“I'm just being realistic, Lucas!”

“No, you're just being a sissy!”

“Guys come on, chill out.” I moan.

“Did you ever think Will went missing because he ran into something bad? And we’re going to the exact same spot where he was last seen? And we have no weapons or anything?”

Mike had a concerning look on his face. “Dustin, shut up!”

“I’m just saying, does that seem smart to you?”

There was rustling nearby– “Dustin seriously.. Shut up. Do you guys hear that?” 

There was more rustling and a weird noise. We all turn our flashlights toward the sound.

We all stumble backwards. It is a girl with a shaved head. She’s soaked and has an oversized t-shirt on. 

I look over to the others. They all looked terrified. 

I sigh and reach my hand out to the girl. 

“Come on! Let’s go back and get dry!”

[poolboyat-thevampiremansion]

on romanticizing the rot

growing up not popular but not unpopular does funny things to your psyche. it makes you do things like falsely romanticize the toxic reality of being fourteen years old out on the town drinking liquor you bought from strangers and hanging out with people four five six years older than you. 

at fourteen i wanted nothing more than to be one of those girls, who went out every weekend and got shit-faced with fair-weather friends who'd leave you out in the cold if they had to. but that can’t be true. they couldn’t’ve been that toxic to each other, right? not like they were to me. it must bond you, in some way. 

when i first got drunk at seventeen i think me and my friends’ brains connected. our neural pathways will always be linked and we are bonded for life. and there’s nothing like the friendliness of drunk girls: the compliments in bar bathrooms, the unbridled and unwavering support they show, the intent interest with which they listen to you, the genuine and bright way they compliment you, say you're so pretty oh my god I love your skirt you’re gorgeous you're literally a goddess he aint shit dont call him you deserve better i want to worship the ground you walk on

i guess the problem comes when drunk girls get sober. the unity of a drunken haze disappears into a cloud of smoke much like the one they were exhaling the previous night. 

theres something deep and powerful in partying. in throwing your life away. in substances and succumbing to them. there must be. that’s why we keep romanticizing them, right? that’s why I wanted nothing more than to have that at fourteen, have that fun, dangerous, thrilling feeling of being alive. of being young and doing things you're not supposed to. I didn’t even think of the immense danger these girls put themselves in. 

seeing my old friend solidified this. revealed the toxicity that they must’ve had to adopt to survive. she told me how she wishes things didn't go the way they did in junior high, told me about the one who was behind most of the drama and everything that contributed to those three years being some of the worst of my life. conversation in smoking areas are special like that. they tear down your walls and get you to reveal yourself. talking over a shared cigarette is a bonding experience and talking with her after years of uncertainty on where we stand all melted away and we talked as if we never stopped. i love her, truly. she lived through the decay, found herself after it. i went through the self discovery process, too. realized, and really, knew all along, that the ideas and experiences i was craving and romanticizing were not worth throwing my childhood away. 

at eighteen i still crave the decay despite of this.

i experience bits of it, now. i feel it when im walking home at 5 am. its nearly palpable when im sharing a smoke on a park bench, tipsy, and the scene is right out of a coming of age movie. at least i hope it is, but i fear it might not be, might be a horror movie or a documentary on my downfall. i still want to live through that chaos. i crave it on rainy evenings biking home from work. i crave it when the musics loud and i pass by a group of teens having fun and somehow feel left out despite being in the same club. when i see people entering bars when im on my way home from having a drink in the park with my friends. i see it in university students getting black out drunk weekly. microdosing alcoholism at the excuse of making the most of your youth. its part of the college experience! its normal! come out with us and drink so much you wont remember half of the night the next day and do it all again a week from now!

the small town syndrome. when theres not much else to do except go to parks and drink with your friends. when your whole country is on the brink of alcoholism and its normal for preteens to start drinking and smoking. its hard not to romanticize it, right? 

i still crave the decay. i still romanticize the rot. i yearn to live through it, vividly, violently.

[mywrittings]

pills / eddie munson

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: After a long deep conversation with your friend, she ends up recommending you to a drug dealer who attends her high school.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 3.8k+

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: 18+ only. drugs, usage of drugs, explicit language, kissing, heavily kissing, oral sex, unprotected sex, cum eating... smutty af.

𝒶/𝓃: oh my god. season 4 of stranger things is freaking amazing. but this character. when I saw him... I KNEW I had to write about him. I can't even comprehend how he made me feel so... anyways... hope you like the story! also this is spoiler free!

‘’I hope I’m at the right place.’’ you say to yourself, as you drive down a dark driveway until you notice a cluster of trailers, dispersed across the area in front of you

You were talking to your friend a few nights ago, and the topic became pretty deep. You expressed how sometimes you just wanted to feel numb due to your preoccupied thoughts lately. That's when she mentioned the drug dealer that attends her high school. She said that he has the best supplies for when you need to take a moment for yourself. Since you were from a different highschool you had no idea what he would look like let alone where he lived so you told her if she would get them for you. Of course she said no so you were left with a paper and scribbled on was the address followed by his name.

‘’Eddie Munson.’’ you say his name as you approach his trailer. You could see there was a light inside, meaning he was home and was expecting you as your friend told him you would be arriving sometime later this evening.

Parking the car outside, you grab your small pouch you had with the money inside. You weren’t sure how much he’d charge so you brought a fair amount just in case. 

After locking the car, you walk up to his front door and knock, hoping you knocked on the right door.

And you did

The door swung open and in front of you was standing a guy with very curly hair, a white shirt that said ‘Hellfire club’ and a leather jacket over it. Silver rings coated his fingers, and a few tattoos could be seen peeping out from beneath his shirt. You knew it was him without him having to prove it, and you thought to yourself, 'Damn he is hot.' 

‘’Y/n? Right?’’ he asks, biting his lower lip, while eyeing at you up and down

‘’That’s me. Eddie?’’ you point at him, and he nods, stepping aside from the door and motioning for you to enter.

Eddie closes the door behind you and moves past, to the table where he pulls a chair out for you and takes a seat across from you. You took a brief second just to look at his trailer. It was nice, cozy and big as well. You wondered if he was the only one here but your thoughts quickly got interrupted. As you sat, you see a variety of strange pills stored in little bags, while others store some kind of white powder. You never used drugs, not even smoked anything. That was never for you and you were always so opposed to it but you really needed something right now. Anything that would help your mind.

Eddie notices the look on your face as you were examining the drugs strewn across the table. He sets one of his hands on it while pointing at different drugs, trying to explain what they do. He assured you that they would not kill you, they would just be enough to calm you. But with so many options you were confused as to which one to choose.

‘’It’s your first time right?’’ he eventually asks, breaking the silence

‘’Yes,’’ you chuckle, as you continue to examine the many colored tablets ‘’I have never seen so many drugs at once.’’

He laughs with you as he leans back in his chair ‘’Yup. That’s why I’m the best of the best at Hawkins highschool.’’ he puts his arms behind his head as you stare up at him

‘’So your business is flourishing?’’ you inquire and he nods, I guess what your friend told you was right; it was worth it coming a long way to get the best this guy had to offer

‘’Have you decided yet which one you want? If you have some trouble, I can recommend this one,’’ he leans back on the table and gestures to one of the tablets in the transparent bag ‘’it’s good for beginners or if you want something a tiny bit stronger,’’ he points to another bag ‘’you can take this one.’’

‘’How do I take them? Like how does it work?’’ it was a silly question; you knew you had to swallow it but you weren't sure whether there was anything you should do to prepare for it in advance. 

‘’Just swallow it.’’ he briefly explains but this time in a different tone. His eyes kept drifting around your lips, before he looked up back at you as he leans back on the chair again.

‘’Well yes but is there anything else I need?’’ 

‘’No. That’s all.’’ he then picks one of the bags and takes one of them out. He puts it in his mouth and swirls it around with his tongue. He shows it to you before he swallows it and the pill disappears from his mouth.

‘’See? Like that.’’ he returns back in for another one and hands it to you, you were confused as to what he wanted but he hastily cuts you off until you could ask

‘’I am not telling you to take it now. That one is free of charge.’’ he says, the pill now sitting in the palm of his hand and you take it but instead of listening you put it in your mouth

‘’Oh.’’ he only manages to mutter as you mimic his moves, circling your tongue around the pill and just as you were about to swallow it Eddie interrupts you

‘’Show it to me.’’ and you stick out your tongue, the pill being at the tip of it

Eddie suddenly moves in closer to you and presses his lips against yours. You don’t pull away; instead kiss him back the same manner he was kissing you. His tongue is quick as he slips it in, molding it around with yours and you feel the pill getting lost in your mouth. Before you know it the pill is no longer there and Eddie pulls away, smirking at you as he shows the pill on his tongue before he swallows it.

‘’I don’t think drugs are for you Y/n. There’s other ways to take your mind off of things.’’ he once more leaned back on the chair, parting his legs a bit and your body flushed. The same second your eyes met his at that front door you could feel some kind of sexual tension between you two.

That’s when you place the pouch on the table and straddle him. Your legs at the either sides of him, his hands automatically finding their way to your waist. He holds you in place as you move closer to his face, brushing your lips against his. A buzz of electricity was spreading from your lips to his but then your entire body was going through that same sensation once Eddie slowly started swaying your hips.

‘’Is this okay?’’ he hums as he pulls away from your lips but still keeps his face near yours but you find it hard to respond with words so instead you plant your lips back on his

Eddie was rocking your body back and forth and soon you feel him hardening beneath you.  One of your hands reaches for his face, while the other one goes behind his neck. You sink your nails in his skin once he picks up the pace. His hands abruptly start moving up where he goes underneath your shirt and you jump in your place once you realize how cold they are. Then he moves back down to your hips, where he grips on them and rests there. 

He takes your bottom lip in his mouth and sucks on it before delicately biting on it, causing a gasp out of you. It was so hard to explain but you were eager for more of him. You were in bliss, Eddie’s kisses made your mind go completely blank with other thoughts. He was all you could think of right now.

‘’Grind on me,’’ he instructs as you moaned out ‘’grind that fucking pussy on my cock.’’  he mutters as you now wrap both of your hands around his neck. You whip your head back as you feel Eddie's wet lips in the middle of your neck. His hands were now traveling up your back before one went down to your ass. He playfully slaps it and gets another moan out of you.

‘’Fuck Eddie.’’ you shakily say, your breathing hitching as he pulls you back in

Eddie glides his lips at the side of your neck, carefully sucking the skin in his mouth before he drags them to your jawline. You couldn’t stop yourself, the feeling was too good as you kept pushing your hips and rotating around his cock. He then comes back up to your lips but all he does is laugh at you as he sees how desperate you were but you didn’t care. You desired him and made it clear how much you wanted him.

‘’Can you feel it, hm?’’ he inches to your ear, gets really close to it as you feel his hot breath trickling down the side of your neck ‘’Can you feel how hard I am for you?’’ you don’t say anything; it was difficult with him on your skin and so near you

‘’Answer me sweetheart.’’ he demands, his voice so sinful, his eyes lustful awaiting for your response

‘’Y-yes…’’ when he hears you stammer, he raises you up and wipes the table with his hand, causing all of the tablets to fall to the floor. He places you on the table, hovering over you as he pecks your lip, so innocently at first. He moves away for a split second only to get rid of his jacket followed by his shirt and you stare in awe. His body was covered in tattoos, the one peeking from his shirt was now fully visible to you and you could see what it actually was.

He comes back in, grabs at the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head. You were now resting on the table in front of him, only wearing your bra. He bites his lip just like he did when you first saw him and dips his head in between your breasts. He gives a small kiss in the middle before you feel his fingers sneak behind and he unzips your bra. 

‘’Shit…’’ he grunts as he begins smothering your breasts in his kisses, your hand going to the back of his head while the other one kept supporting you on the table

As he’s kissing you, his other hand goes down to your jeans. He manages to unbutton them, before helping you get rid of them, tossing them on the floor next to your bra. Once he sees you with just your panties on he couldn’t help but to touch himself. You anticipated him to remove those damned pants, but instead he walks to the freezer and pulls something out. You were momentarily puzzled, but then you noticed him holding a little ice cube.

He steps back to you, placing the ice cube in between your breasts, slowly dragging it down to your stomach. It was so cold but at the same time it felt so good. He comes to a stop at your belly button as his other hand twists around your panties and he swiftly pulls them off, you only helping by kicking your legs.

That’s when you felt him going lower until the ice cube reached your pussy. You jolt in your place but Eddie has his other hand now on your hips, securing you in place. His eyes watched as you were melting in your moans, once he pushed the ice cube up your pussy lips. He had a grin on his face and couldn’t stop biting his lips. The scenery in front of him was beautiful.

He then drops his head and before you know it his lips are on your pussy. He slides the ice cube with his mouth around it, until it fully melts. His hands go to yours and he intertwines them together, once you feel his tongue flicking at your folds. You were already soaked from grinding on him, but the fact that you could feel him rapidly glide his tongue up and down made it 10 times better.

He was slurping up your juices, he didn’t seem to stop, he kept increasing the speed. His thumb was caressing the back of your hand as he tried to make you feel comfortable once his other finger plunged inside of you. You moaned aloud, surprised by his action and just like he was flicking his tongue faster and faster, he did the same thing with his finger. He was curling it inside, while his tongue looped around the top of your clit. Arching your back as you close your eyes, unable to control that sensation that was coursing through your body.

‘’You taste so good oh my god.’’ he purrs against it, sucking and fucking your pussy with his tongue

As your other hand was free you went to grab at the table, because it was so hard not to move in your place as Eddie lapped at your pussy, devouring in your juices. 

He then leaves your pussy for a moment, finally getting rid of his jeans and underwear. His cock was right there in front of you, hard and fucking huge. He palmed it in between his hand while his other hand played with your pussy before he smothers his dick with your juices.

Eddie then walks around to the other side of the table and as you attempt to rise up, believing he wants you to do something, he gently pushes you back down and pulls you closer to himself. His cock was now directly in front of your mouth and that’s when you knew what he wanted. Your head was a little bit over the table, just so that he was able to push his cock into your mouth. 

‘’Suck that cock baby.’’ he orders as he begins moving his hips. He didn’t let you do anything else other than to move your tongue around it and kiss it when he’d pull out, the rest was his doing. Your tongue was circling around his tip then all the way down to his balls where he tells you to suck on them as well. You take them each in your mouth, covering them with your saliva as Eddie’s eyes remain on you. He didn't take his gaze away, not even for a second; he wanted to see everything.

His hand went to your neck first but then he slowly pushed it down, to your clit. He feels your skin prickle at his touch, as your eyes flutter once his fingers begin playing around. He was only using the tips of his fingers, teasing you around making you move your body side to side. You clenched your hand around his arm and you were pushing it harder, trying to add more friction because he wasn’t touching you like before. Eddie didn’t care because he wanted to keep teasing you.

‘’You’re such a mess baby,’’ he whines as he sees you dig your fingers into his skin ‘’do you like it when I push my cock so deep in your fucking mouth that you can’t breath huh?’’ he asks, as you feel him go all the way in and when he takes it out you gasp for air. Eddie leaves your pussy and leans down to your lips. He kisses you, with reassurance that you are safe as his hands touch the sides of your body before he comes back around again. 

He lifts you back up and begins carrying you to his bed. He lays you down, hovering over you and you mentally thank him for bringing you somewhere much more comfortable. 

‘’Spread your legs for me.’’ you obey him and open up your legs, Eddie’s hands go to your thighs where he caresses them, while pecking your forehead

‘’Look at me,’’ he lifts your chin up, licking his lips ‘’I’m going to fuck you now okay? I don’t want you to hold back your moans, while I fuck this pussy. Is that okay?’’ you don’t even need to say anything, just a small nod was enough for him to slowly push at your entrance.

His cock slowly penetrates inside of you, stretching you out. He didn’t go all the way in at first as he wanted to help you adjust to him. He remained close to you when he moved in and out a couple of times. You were whining from his cock, as you clenched your pussy around him when he’d find that spot. 

‘’Fuck, keep doing that.’’ he whispers as you clench again, feeling his cock pulsating inside of you

You wrap your legs around him, pushing him closer and he sees that you want more from him. 

‘’Want me to go faster hm?’’ 

‘’Yes.’’ 

‘’Harder? Want me to fuck you harder?’’

‘’Y-yes.’’

‘’Hold onto me while I fuck you harder.’’ he started going faster until he was slamming himself in. He didn’t have a rhythm anymore, your pussy was making him feel way too good to even comprehend at what pace he was trying to fuck you. 

Your hands fly to his back, seeping your nails into him which evoked a groan out of him. He had his hands at either side of your face, while he thrusted harder and faster each time he’d push back and sink his cock back in you. His head goes past your face, burying it in the hollow of your neck as you feel his lips now closer than ever to your ear. He was panting, moaning, grunting from the pleasure of his dick going in and out of your pussy.

‘’You’re so tight fuck.’’ he groans and you scream out his name. The feeling slowly building up inside of you, he was so close to just pushing you off the edge. He devilish smiles into your neck, once you began moaning faster, without any control but he loved it. You were so close to orgasming and so was he.

‘’Are you close hm?’’ he says against your skin as you push him even more onto yourself. He almost collapsed from the last few thrusts he did but he managed to pull himself together. 

‘’Not yet sweetheart,’’ you felt his warm tongue lick at your neck  ‘’I don’t want you to come yet.’’ he licks you again before finally his lips are back on yours and you whine. Your eyes were asking for him to let you cum but he doesn’t let it happen.

‘’I’m going to come first and then I want to you to come all over my face,’’ he lustfully says ‘’while my tongue is buried deep in your pussy.’’ you were so close but managed to pull every ounce of power you had in you to stop yourself from letting go and going over that edge.

‘’Where do you want my cum? Want me to cum on that pretty face of yours hm?’’ he touches your face with his finger, the rings that were so cold grazing your skin ‘’Or should I cum on that pretty ass? Or do you want me in your mouth hm?’’ that’s what you were waiting for, you wanted his cum in your mouth, you wanted to taste him.

‘’Your mouth? Oh such a fucking filthy girl you are.’’ he kisses your lips, pounds your pussy one more time before he pulls out, standing up and you quickly go to your knees, taking him in your mouth. You wrap your hand around his cock and pump him as your mouth bobs around his head. His hand goes in your hair and once you feel him he is about to let go, you close your eyes and feel his hot cum fill your mouth. He grunts as you keep bobbing your head, sending him into orbit. 

‘’Stick out your tongue, let me see that cum.’’ he pulls out of your mouth and you put your tongue out ‘’Swallow it.’’ you do just as he says and as soon as you do that he pushes you on the bed, instantly attaching his lips to your pussy.

‘’Your turn, baby,’’ he licks a strip along your pussy before he starts flicking his tongue ‘’come for me.’’ and that’s when you push yourself over the edge. Your entire body goes numb, the feeling overtook you completely as you moved your hips while Eddie helped to ride off your orgasm. 

‘’Just like that, yes.’’ he encourages you and at last you couldn’t move anymore. You couldn’t feel anything for a moment, only Eddie's tongue that was still lapping around your pussy. Once he feels you come he kisses your pussy and begins kissing your thighs up your stomach until he’s at your lips. 

‘’You’re such a good girl Y/n.’’ he pressed his naked body against yours, moving the strands of your hair away from your face that were stuck due to the sweat. 

‘’Nobody has ever made me feel like this.’’ you giggle, still breating loudly, watching him stare deeply into your eyes as you trace your fingers along his back

‘’See? I told you there is a way to take one's mind off of something.’’ he lazily places a kiss on your lips and for a while just lets them sit there. 

‘’Stay.’’ he suddenly says, as he opens his eyes again ‘’Stay here with me.’’ he begs you, his voice became so soft

‘’I don’t think I’ll be able to let go of you, if I stay here Eddie.’’ and you were telling the truth. As soon as you saw him on the doorstep, you knew there was something about him. Something that your mind wouldn’t be able to just forget. He was that kind of person, that kind of a guy that would just stay in your head and you would think about him, think of different scenarios between the two of you. 

‘’I don’t want you to let go of me Y/n.’’ he replies back, his eyes were serious. He didn’t want you to go home, he wanted you to stay, stay around him, wrapped in his arms.

Eddie stands up and gets both of you underneath the blanket. He wraps it tightly around you and strongly presses your body up against him but still keeps a space between your faces. You don’t say anything, you let him do it, whatever he wanted, you let him do it.

‘’I think I found my favorite drug.’’ he says in a whisper, his thumb caressing your cheek. Every little move he made from that point on was so silky. So soft. He took care of you, made sure you felt safe even if you had just met him.

[ayatosmoles]

powdered sugar (n.k.)

summary: nanami kento loves chuckling at people that turn into idiots for something as silly as love, but he doesn't realize he's the exact idiot he jokes about.

wc: 1.5k

warnings: f!reader, tiny mention of smoking, fluff!!

note: i'm back!! i was so in the zone when i wrote this, i really hope you guys like it! i haven't been getting a lot of interaction lately so hopefully this jumpstarts my account a little bit while i get back in the groove of writing <3 i want to test out writing for jjk, so hopefully this does well :) also, if you try to tell me nanami is out of character you're wrong <3

nanami has always been a stranger to love. any love that has appeared in his life has been fleeting and he never welcomed it with open arms. he's hesitant, and he might even say that he's keeping love at an arm's length on purpose. he doesn't want to know love, because what then? welcoming unfamiliar feelings and letting them root in his psyche, gone in just a moment's notice over small mistakes? love has always played a role as a silly caricature for nanami, something to chuckle at in books and films when the protagonist is proven an idiot for their tenderness and care for another person.

it doesn't dawn on him that maybe love is more of an acquaintance that you never meant to know. a pesky coworker that you try your best to ignore that becomes a part of your life, or an annoying family member that you still find yourself flocking to at family gatherings. it doesn't dawn on him until he thinks about you when he shouldn't.

you work at the bakery. the one on the third corner that he passes going to work, the one across the street from his normal commute to the office. it has a quaint exterior, a nice hole-in-the-wall place that he stumbled across upon moving into the neighborhood a few months ago. when he went for the first time, you recommended him the blueberry scone. you told him it's a favorite of yours, and the baker makes ginormous scones that last for two cups of tea. he indulged, buying your favorite and a lemon pastry of some kind. he didn't know how to tell you he doesn't like blueberries too much, so he bought it anyway. he ate it with his tea that morning when he arrived at the office, making sure his tea was extra strong to overpower the blueberries.

after that morning, he kept going to that bakery. usually before work, sometimes over his lunch break, or even right before it closes so he has pastries for an early meeting the next morning. he doesn't think twice about why he goes so often. sure, you bring a smile to his face before he faces the shitstorm of his office. you make lovely jokes that he finds terribly endearing. but that's what friends do, right? he's just some regular that you're obligated to chat up for an extra couple bucks in the tip jar.

but, a few months into this habit of his, he finds that his stomach drops when he realizes you're not working that morning. it never used to do that. he found himself waking up excited to see your face, rather than tasting the new pastries. he thought about you throughout the day, wondering if you're having a good shift, if the patrons have been nice to you, or if you're excited to go home to... someone.

he physically cringes at that last thought. he shouldn't be thinking like this. he doesn't know why he's thinking like this. he doesn't recognize what he's feeling. he's never had such strong feelings for a person that he's jealous at the prospect of them having a partner.

oh god, is this what liking someone is like? he thinks. he hopes not, because you're overruling every thought in his mind and it's quite distracting. he doesn't know what to do. should he talk to you and see you more? talk to and see you less?

he opts for the latter, choosing to take a break and figure out what the hell is wrong with him. he starts making his own pastries, even blueberry ones. he goes a different way to work, totally avoiding any possible temptation. despite of all these measures he takes, you're still always on his mind.

he confides in the secretary on his floor, nakamura. she's the office nag, constantly taking rounds around the cubicles and offices to ask about potential girlfriends, boyfriends, kids, all that. nanami has been one of her biggest targets for the last handful of months, so he figures it can't hurt to indulge her a little bit.

the two settle into a table in the back corner of the cafeteria over coffee and some of the pastries that he made—they're not nearly as impressive as the ones you sell, but they're still good considering the man that made them.

"there's this girl. i used to see her all the time, she works at a bakery i frequent." his voice is nervous. he's never verbalized his emotions like this, he hardly knows how to approach it.

"for a while, i thought she was just this kind girl, always happy and... excited to talk about croissants. i've always had people at places that i look forward to seeing and catching up with, but none like her. i got upset when she wasn't there, i hope she's having a good day, and i get jealous of some fake significant other of hers that i imagine in my head. i don't even know if she has one. i tried to stop going so she wouldn't distract me anymore and i could clear my head, but that didn't help. the only thing that changed was i missed seeing her even more. i've never had such a strong opinion of somebody, i don't know what it means," he takes a breath, "i don't have a lot of friends, really, is it just that i want to be friends with her?"

he finally looks up to face the woman he's been rambling to for far too long. she's smug, but with an incredulous expression painted across her face.

"don't look at me like that," he grumbles.

"do you think she's pretty?"

this question sends him even further spiraling. does he? of course he does.

"she's beautiful. her hair is this wonderful color, especially in the sun. the sun shines right through the front window at the perfect time every morning, and it shines. her uniform is this ridiculous chef's coat, even though she's told me herself that she's not a chef nor a baker, she just makes the coffee and sells the pastries and bread. oh, and one time he had her sprinkling powdered sugar on the donuts and she got some on her cheeks, she looked... adorable. oh, and her cheeks. i could just..." he trails off, deep into thought.

"you're an idiot, nanamin. you're in love with her. go tell her, right now."

"what do you mean? i can't just do that. what if she says no and thinks i'm a creep?"

"who cares if she says no, telling her will make you feel better."

with more scolding from his coworker, he informs his boss that he's leaving early due to 'family problems'. he rushes to the bakery, silently praying you're still on shift since it's well into the afternoon.

he realizes that he still hasn't been back since disappearing, and now he hopes you even remember who he is.

he opens the door to the bakery, heart beating out of his chest. the first thing he notices is that it's empty, save for you behind the counter. you're sprinkling powdered sugar on the donuts, and he immediately recognizes the powder on your cheeks.

the bell on the door catches your attention, and you look up.

"welcome in!" a flash of recognition crosses your eyes. "nanami!"

his heart clenches with the way you say his name. it's the first time he's ever heard it come from your mouth.

"where have you been? we-i missed you! how are you?"

"do you have a few minutes, y/n?"

"of course, there's no one here and mr. yamashita stepped out for a cigarette."

"i think you're wonderful," he cringes at his opening statement, "or... you're very pretty, y/n, and i think you have a wonderful smile and you always make me so happy whenever i see you. i don't really know you too well, but i want to know you so much more. i haven't been coming for a while because all i could think about was you, and i didn't want to constantly think about a girl i could never have a shot with. clearly that didn't work, so i just wanted to come see you and tell you how i feel."

his confession comes out as a mess of words, his cheeks getting redder and redder with each admission. you feel giddy thinking about a tall and stoic man like nanami kento being a flustered mess right in front of you.

"nanami-"

"wait! i'm so sorry, i didn't ask. are you seeing anybody?"

"well, there is this guy that i've been wanting to ask out for the longest time," his gut sinks, "but he just did all the work for me. so i guess i am seeing somebody."

"oh, what's his name?"

"dummy," you mutter and lean across the counter and plant a kiss on his cheek, accidentally hitting the corner of his mouth more than his cheek. the powdered sugar that paints your cheek now paints the tip of nanami's nose, glowing a flustered red.

[silver-tongued-bby]

Discretion

Pairing: Dom!CEO!Loki x Reader

Summary: After dropping out of grad school and moving back home you expected very little of your summer. That is until you realise your neighbour, Mr. Laufeyson, has other plans. Set in the mid 90s!

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!! This is a Dom!Loki fic - though it's not super bd/sm heavy, it explores themes of voyeurism, dub!con spanking, humiliation and degradation. Sexual acts are described including vaginal fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving) and sexual intercourse (f/m). Smoking is also described. Please read at your own discretion (hehe see what I did there?).

Words: 5,026

Author's Note: I'm excited to say that this is my first ever submission for a challenge! Specifically it's for @boxofbonesfic's Hot Girl Summer Challenge.

I chose prompt 12 (Home for the Summer) and a slightly edited version of quote 17 ("If I have to tell you again to take that off, you’re not gonna like me sweetheart darling.") then for kinks I chose voyeurism/exhibitionism and degradation though there's a sprinkling of praise kink in there too.

Not sure why when I think of summer I think of mid 90s summers but here we are. This kinda went places I didn't expect, nonetheless I hope you enjoy!

...

God you were bored.

Stretching out on the lounge chair you sighed, letting your shoulders droop with the long exhale.

“Oh honey, you can’t keep sitting out here in the sun.” Your eyes rolled behind your dark sunglasses, turning towards your stepmother as she came down the stairs from the deck of the house.

“It’ll give you wrinkles dear,” she was standing beside you now, hands on her hips as she stared down at you. She was wearing that ridiculous hat again- the one with the brim as wide as she was tall.

“Carla, darling, we can’t all hide away from life in hopes to look as good as you do.” You lazily gazed at her, sitting up to find your pack of cigarettes on the side table. Taking one out you brought it to your mouth and lit it with your gold plated zippo. You took a long inhale before exhaling right in her face, “when I tell people you’re 53 they can hardly believe it.” Her eyes widened- you’d found her drivers license months ago and held the knowledge of her true age over her since then. You continued, ”my compliments to your doctors. Oh and Botox, kudos to Botox.”

Her little hands formed fists, fake nails pressing tiny neon-pink crescents into her palm.

You laughed, lounging back in the chair as you leisurely took drags off your cigarette. Smiling to yourself as you counted- three, two, one, before Carla shrieked and turned.

“Arthur! Arthur!” She screeched, running back up the stairs to tell your father.

You were a little less bored now, but making Carla’s face turn red could only give you so much satisfaction. You knew your father could care less, they were both about to leave for the Côte D’Azur tomorrow for the rest of the summer, leaving you here alone to “consider the consequences of your actions.” Or however your father had put you dropping out of school after one year of graduate studies in Classics.

He couldn’t help himself from belittling your degree while you were studying, then once you’d decided it wasn’t for you his lectures changed to be about “never giving up” and “seeing something through.” You both knew he simply didn’t want you around- he just couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

“Now those will definitely give you wrinkles,” you heard a smooth, silky voice coming from behind you that made your heart race. Smiling, you swung your legs over the side of your chair, taking off your sunglasses and snuffing out your cigarette.

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you started, eyeing the lithe figure as he emerged from the shadows. He held his hands in his pockets, his crisp black trousers fit perfectly to his frame. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the pale skin of his toned forearms. You were well aware of the small scraps of white fabric covering your body, and you enjoyed watching his eyes trace over your skin. You’d lusted after him ever since your father had moved here during your first year of college. You’d met him at one of Carla’s Christmas parties- she invited everyone from the gated community over, including your neighbour, Loki Laufeyson.

“I’m so sorry if my stepmother’s incessant shrieking ruined your afternoon,” you grimaced, taking a sip of the ice cold vodka soda beside you. “Is there anything I can do to remedy the situation?” you asked, your eyes innocently meeting his.

He chuckled. “Oh I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve already thought of something,” he said under his breath loud enough for you to just make out. He strolled towards you and took a seat on the lounge chair beside yours. “I’m actually here to see your Father. He’s asked me to check in on things here while him and Carla are away.”

You rolled your eyes- of course he did. You caught Mr. Laufeyson staring at you as you did that, his expression darkening slightly and his eyebrow raising before he continued. “I am surprised to see you here- last I’d heard you were studying in Europe. Graduate studies in Classics, right?”

“Yeah. It didn’t exactly pan out.” You looked down, cursing yourself for feeling your face grow hot. The last thing you needed was your gorgeous neighbour feeling sorry for you.

“Laufeyson you bastard, you’re late!” Your Father was coming down the stairs, jovial with his greeting.

Loki got up from his seat to meet your father. “Arthur,” he said, shaking his hand. “My apologies, I got held up at the office. It’s been insanity since the new acquisition.”

You tuned out the rest of the business jargon and settled back into your seat, facing the other way. You put your sunglasses back on, wincing once your heard Carla’s shrill voice coming from above.

“Is that Loki Laufeyson? Oh it’s been ages!” she gushed.

“I suppose it has.” You could tell she’d pulled him in for a hug and a kiss on either cheek. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself at the clear discomfort in his voice.

“So I can trust you to keep an eye on the place?” your father chimed in.

“Certainly, although it seems your daughter is perfectly capable of doing so herself.” Mr. Laufeyson rightfully pointed out. You raised an eyebrow, wishing you could see the expression on your dear dad’s face from your position. Mr. Laufeyson was probably the only person in this community that could and would tell your Father that- his annual appearance in Forbes certainly cemented the position.

“You never know with kids, Laufeyson. No matter how old they get you can’t trust them to carry through with something. Just wait until you have one of your own- then you’ll know what I’m talking about." He laughed loudly. You scoffed. Fucking asshole.

“I see. I’ll keep an eye out then.” Mr. Laufeyson said cooly.

“Right well feel free to pop by anytime, we leave tomorrow morning. Here’s the number of my cellular telephone- I always have it on me you know.” Your father was obsessed with his clunky mass of plastic- he brought it everywhere he went, mostly to brag about it to strangers or talk obnoxiously on it to avoid conversations with you or Carla.

“He really does. Even in the bedroom!” Carla giggled, causing you to shudder in disgust.

“Of course, well I should be on my way.” He stepped back over to you. “I suppose I’ll be seeing you around. Here’s my information,” he placed a thick, black and white business card onto the small table beside you. “In case of emergency.”

You pulled your sunglasses down your nose and slid your eyes up his body, biting your lip as you met his stare. “I’ll be sure to remember. See you around, Mr. Laufeyson.”

He considered you for a moment and you thought he was about to say something else before he nodded and turned, heading for the gate.

You settled back in your seat and nestled the headphones of your discman over your ears. You pressed the play button, the beat of Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy” drowning out whatever Carla and your father were arguing about once their guest had left.

...

It was much later that evening that you finally slipped from your room to find some dinner. The house was dark- you knew your father and Carla had an early flight. Grabbing a wrapped plate from the fridge that the housekeeper had left you you headed to the back deck to eat. You kept the lights off as you watched the dim foamy white of the ocean’s waves hitting the rocks below, finding peace in the sound.

Finishing your meal you were about to head inside when you saw a light come on out of the corner of your eye. From where you were sitting you could see into a room on the top floor of Mr. Laufeyson’s house. Interesting- you’d never seen into this room before, the windows that faced your father’s house were usually shuttered. You laid back and lit a cigarette, choking on the inhale when you saw Mr. Laufeyson emerge, shirtless, his eyes dark and hungry. He was pulling a woman behind him, a blonde, her shirt unbuttoned to expose a lacy red bra. Once he stood at the edge of the bed he turned around to kiss her, his hands moving to the clasp of her bra. Undoing it, he pulled away to slide it down her arms before turning her around and unzipping her skirt, leaving her in just a high waisted red lace thong.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. You were transfixed by the scene unfolding in front of you. He flung her on the bed- from your position you could see it all as if it were happening in a room adjacent to yours. Climbing over her he dipped his head to capture her lips once more as he ground against her. Your legs clenched together as you continued to smoke your cigarette, the combined effect of the nicotine and the scene in front of you making your head spin.

His hand trailed down to the red lace covering her heat as he continued to kiss and grind against her. Slipping his fingers in you found you were doing the same to yourself, feeling the hot wet of your arousal. He had pulled away from her now, watching her face intently as her back arched up off of the mattress, her hands clutching his toned arms. He was saying something to her, his eyes going from her face to her heaving breasts as he continued to work his hand inside of her. A flush was blooming on her chest, her mouth open and her eyebrows drawn together. You were moving your hand in time with his, your arousal coating your fingers. His movements became faster as he continued to speak to her, smiling menacingly before her back arched fully off the bed, her hands grasping at him. Withdrawing from the dampened red lace his fingers glistened in the light, wet from her release.

He easily picked her up off the bed, carrying her to the window sill. He roughly pulled her panties down before he undid his trousers then lined himself up at her entrance. He pressed into her, her back flat against the glass and his face visible beside the back of her head, his eyes closed. You imagined how it’d feel, the cool glass against your back, his warm hand firmly gripping your thigh, his strong arms holding your legs open as he fucked you. He began to move inside of her then his eyes opened, staring straight at you in the darkness. Your heart beat faster as you felt yourself blush- surely he couldn’t see you out here, you were shrouded in the dark. You could barely see the outline of your hand as you brought it to your face for another puff. You froze- the cigarette.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hissed, quickly removing your hand from its position and shakily putting out the cigarette on your dinner plate. Sliding your chair out quietly you chanced one last look towards the window- he was smirking in your direction as he continued to move against the blonde. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you backed away towards the porch door. You could swear his eyes didn’t leave you once and it sent shudders through you. You made your way back to your room and lay awake for hours, each time you closed your eyes you saw his piercing blue-green stare and filthy smirk.

You must have drifted off at some point since you eventually awoke to silence- an anomaly. You’d usually wake to Carla’s screeching laugh as she spoke on the phone to her friends, or she’d send the housekeeper Marie to wake you. You checked the clock beside you- 9AM. Carla and your father were long gone by now.

You smiled at that, stretching lazily before cranking the radio and dancing around your room as you got ready, the sunlight beaming in through your window. Making your way to the main kitchen you froze, last night coming back to you. The way Mr. Laufeyson had looked out at you as if he were expecting you to be there. Did he leave the blinds open on purpose? You shook your head, no way he’d be that forward. Sure he flirted with you every now and then, but nothing beyond that. You pushed the thought from your mind for the rest of the day.

...

A week passed quickly, you spent a lot of time with your friends, going shopping, to the beach, or local restaurants. You didn’t spend much time around the house so you hadn’t seen Mr. Laufeyson since the “incident”. On Friday you met up with some friends midday and got a ride to one of their parents’ beach houses. You spent the day there, drinking and laughing as you enjoyed the sun. Your friends dropped you back off at your place at around 7pm, you were pleasantly buzzed but looking forward to a quiet night in.

It was so hot outside you decided to take a dip in the pool. Cranking the radio in the backyard you decided to skinny dip- no one was home anyways. You sighed as your heated skin met the water, cooling instantly. You did a few laps before lazily swimming a backstroke and humming the music on the radio when you saw something coming towards you out of the corner of your eye. Standing upright you saw Mr. Laufeyson walking towards you from the door to the backyard, a smirk playing at his lips. Your heart started beating quickly as you realised the position you were in, remembering his hungry stare from last week. You swam over to the side of the pool to meet him.

“Hi,” he smiled, looking down at you.

You bit your lip and innocently looked up at him. “Hello, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“I’m sorry to intrude.”

“No worries. Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Laufeyson?” you asked, noticing his eyes taking in your body under the water. He definitely knew you were naked. Your thighs clenched together at the thought.

“I was coming to see you about something that happened last week that had me… concerned. I thought I saw someone out on the balcony, late at night. Was that you?”

You felt your cheeks grow hot, your heartbeat picking up to a mile a minute. “What day was this?”

“Last week Friday.” His face was serious as he strolled over to a pool chair, pulling it closer to the side and taking a seat.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think anyone was out there then.” The words came out a lot quicker than you’d meant. You were usually pretty good at lying but something in his voice made you want to tell him the truth, to please him.

He tsked. “I’ve seen you lie better than that. Try again darling.” He sounded bored as he reached for your pack of cigarettes on the side table. He raised an eyebrow in question as he drew out a cigarette. You nodded, nervously biting your lip as he lit it and crossed his legs, leisurely smoking while he stared you down.

“No words, little one?” he teased, smirking down at you. “Did you at least enjoy the show?”

You huffed- this was humiliating. How dare he? You found anger quickly overtaking your initial shock and embarrassment as you made your way to the pool stairs and got out. You raised an eyebrow at him and smiled when the smirk slid off his face at the sight of your naked, wet body. Two can play this game. Walking over to him you grabbed a towel off the chair and wrapped it around yourself.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply here,” you grabbed the cigarette from between his long, muscular fingers and took a long drag. “But I didn’t see you last Friday night. And I definitely didn’t see you fucking that blonde-” your eyes widened at your own confession.

He stood to his full height and stepped closer to you, looking down at you once more. You backed up a step, feeling the lounge chair behind you.

“Drop the towel,” he growled, the hungry look in his eyes fully directed at you this time.

“Listen-“ you started to explain yourself.

“Drop. The. Towel.” He enunciated each word with his crisp accent and perfect voice.

“I knew it- I knew you wanted to fuck me.” You smirked at him triumphantly as you took another drag.

“If I have to tell you again to take that off, you’re not gonna like me darling,” he threatened, stepping closer.

“Oh really?” You laughed, taunting him. “And what are you going to do, Mr. Laufeyson?” You blinked innocently at him, enjoying the way the muscles in his jaw clenched.

Suddenly he grabbed your jaw, firmly but not painfully as he brought his face inches from yours, your eyes locked.

“You fucking brat.” He roughly pulled the towel down, exposing your body to the warm air. He pinched the cigarette from your fingers, extinguishing it under his shoe on the concrete. “I’m going to have to teach you some manners, aren’t I?”

Before you could answer he spun you both around and sat on the lounge chair then pulled you over his lap, angling you so your top half rested on the chair, your hips over his. One hand firmly held your lower back in place, the other smoothed over the skin of your ass and you squirmed. His hand came down to spank you, hard. “First lesson- don’t fucking move until I tell you to.” You whined, your face burning.

His hand came down again in the same spot, causing you to hiss and grip the plastic of the chair in one hand and his thigh in the other. “Second lesson- always answer me.”

You were humiliated but you found yourself growing even more wet with each spank. First there was the pain, then a wave of pleasure that intensified when he smoothed his hand over the skin he’d hit.

He gave you another slap, “what did I just say?” He growled, his hand roughly gripping the skin this time.

“T-to always answer you.” Your voice was small as you stuttered, overwhelmed by the way he was making you feel.

“Good girl.” You'd felt a tiny swell of pride at that. “I’m going to spank you three more times. Count them for me.”

“Okay,” you nodded, worried if you didn’t answer he’d add more to the list. His hand came down on your other cheek, hard and fast.

“One,” you counted, taking a deep breath. Before you could forcibly relax your tense muscles his hand had struck your cheek once more, causing you to hiss.

Your finger tips were pressing into his thigh as you let out a breath, the sharp pain receding. “Two,” you licked your lips and tensed in anticipation of the third and final slap.

After a few seconds you relaxed then turned to catch his eye- he was darkly observing you with his jaw clenched. Suddenly he hit the skin once more, this time the hardest, causing you to cry out.

You composed yourself with a quick breath. “Three.”

“Well done, darling.” He was gently running over the sore skin with his large hands. You could feel his erection under you.

“I wish you could see how lovely you looked on my lap, taking your spanking so well.” He dipped his hand between your legs. You sucked in a breath when you felt his fingers brush along your wet slit causing you to writhe on his lap.

“My poor, little thing. You’re dripping,” his voice was pure sin as he brought his glistening fingers up to your face.

He shifted, his strong grip helping you off his lap so you stood before him on shaky legs. You bit your lip, face growing hot as suddenly became fascinated with your fingers, twisting them painfully.

He stood then, and brought his finger under your chin to guide your eyes to his. He wore a satisfied expression, a slight grin at his lips as he took in your naked form.

“Do you think you’ve learnt your lesson darling?” He asked, his eyes mocking yours.

You quickly nodded, feeling fully exposed in front of his fully clothed form.

He licked his lips. “Do you want to go upstairs so I can fuck you?”

Your cheeks burnt as you nodded quickly again.

“Answer me darling,” he dropped his hand from your chin.

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

A slow, filthy grin spread across his face. “Lead the way,” he motioned towards the stairs.

You bent to reach for your towel on the ground. “Ah, ah, no need for that darling.” His words stopped you. You shivered as you stood back up, another wave of heat pulsing through your core.

You tentatively walked up the steep stairs and he followed closely behind. You could feel his gaze on you with each step.

Once up on the patio you looked back at him, his eyes dark with hunger. You gave him a shy smile before leading him inside. You stopped- should you bring him to your bedroom?

Before you could finish your thought he slid up behind you, his hands coming to grip your waist. “Where shall I take you, darling?” He whispered in your ear, his breath making you shiver.

He let go of your waist to circle you, stopping before you. “Do you want me to ruin you on that god awful couch?” He looked over his shoulder to the gaudy floral couch Carla had ordered special from Italy. She wouldn’t let anyone who wasn’t company sit on it in fear of stains.

You smiled at the idea of ruining the couch with Mr. Laufeyson, knowing Carla would lose her mind- even more so if she found out how it got there. “Yes please.”

He pulled you towards it then gently guided you to sit at the edge of it, angling you so you were in one corner. His hands splayed over the skin of your legs, gently pushing them apart. The feeling of the cool air of the house on your slit gave you goosebumps.

He kept his eyes locked with yours as he knelt between your legs before he turned to press a kiss to your thigh close to your knee. He then bit the skin there, earning a sharp inhale from you before he soothed it with his warm tongue.

“Tell me, darling. Did you touch yourself? Did you play with yourself as you watched me?” His velvety voice sent an involuntary shudder through you, his eyes capturing yours.

He nipped at your thigh with his teeth, marring the skin. You yelped then swallowed. “Yes! Yes, I did.”

“Good girl.” He moved to repeat his actions further up the inside of your thigh while he gently ran his fingers up and down your other thigh.

You were trembling while you watched him, each bite a little harder than the last as he got closer to your wet core. His eyes met yours once more then he blew a stream of cold air over your slit, causing you to gasp sharply. He smirked before letting his lips barely graze over your clit, your hips moving slightly before he brought his arm down over them to hold you in place.

He ever so gently pressed a kiss to your clit before gently running his tongue over the sensitive flesh, pulling a moan from you. You could feel your wetness dripping down onto the couch below as he continued to delicately tease you.

“You taste divine, darling. Better than I’d imagined.” You whined at his words- the idea of him alone, picturing what your cunt tasted like brought you to the edge of an orgasm.

He smiled wickedly up at you. “So close already? Poor thing.” Bringing one long finger to your slit he gathered some wetness before pushing it fully within you, forcing a loud moan through your lips.

“It’s okay darling, let go. Give into me. I promise it’ll make you feel so much better,” he hummed against your clit before tenderly sucking on it. He bent his finger within you, hitting something deep that made you cry out. You quickly came, your release squirting around his finger and wetting the couch below.

He kept up his movements as you rode out your high. Once your breath returned to you he pulled away and removed his finger, licking his lips as he wiped your release off his chin.

“Third lesson- good girls always get to cum.” He winked at you with a grin before standing.

He leaned over you, caging you in on the couch before capturing your lips with his. You hummed at the taste of yourself on him, his tongue gliding against yours.

He straightened back up then pulled you up off the couch and guided you to face the other way. He led you so your knees were on the couch, your arms resting against the back of the upholstery. You heard the sound of a zipper before feeling the tip of his hard length slide against your folds. You instinctively arched your back at the feeling, pressing yourself up against him, causing him to groan.

“Such a greedy little brat,” he said, smoothing his hands over the skin of your ass. “You want me to fuck that pretty little cunt, hm?”

“Yes- yes please, Mr. Laufeyson. Please fuck me,” you begged, rubbing yourself on him once more.

With that he thrust into you, holding himself still once he was fully seated within you, giving you a chance to adjust. You’d gasped at the sensation- he was clearly well-endowed and you were thankful he gave you a moment. Willing your muscles to relax you looked back at him before grinding your hips against his.

His eyes were dark with lust, his jaw clenched in a way that made you involuntarily squeeze him as he started to move within you. You were panting as he set a pace, the angle of his thrusts hitting the same spot he’d found quickly before.

You’d turned back around and folded your forearms over the back of the couch, arching yourself against him even more. He growled and picked up his pace, his hand firmly gripping your hip. The angle had you moaning desperately, the feeling of him so deep within you making your fingers and toes numb.

“That’s it darling, take my cock within your needy little cunt. Fuck- I’ve wanted to ruin this tight little pussy for so long. I’ve wanted you for so long,” he rasped out between thrusts and your mind went blank, all you could respond with were desperate moans.

He stopped abruptly and pulled you up before sitting himself on the couch and pulling you over his lap so you were straddling him. He’d unbuttoned his shirt and your mouth went dry at the sight of the musculature under his pale skin. You slid your fingers under the fabric, gripping his firm shoulders as he positioned himself under you.

You moved your hips in a circle over him, enjoying the feel of the very tip of him swirling within you.

“You little tease,” he grinned darkly, running a hand through his hair. “Ride me, darling. Show me what you can do.”

Your cunt clenched at his words and his wicked smirk spread. You took the opportunity to bring yourself down to grind against him, wiping the smug look off his face.

You quickly set a pace as you rode him, his hands on your ass guiding your movements. You were panting as you continued your movements, the angle bringing you close to your finish.

“Are you going to cum, darling?” His voice vibrated through you, and you nodded.

“Yes- fuck, Mr. Laufeyson. You feel so good-“ he continued to guide your movements, moving his head closer to your breast. He brought his mouth around one of your nipples, gently sucking at the nub. You arched into him, moaning at the sensation.

His tongue ran against your skin in his mouth, bringing another moan from you before he sharply bit down on your nipple, pushing you over the edge into another orgasm. You moaned his name over and over as you rode out your high, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. As you came back to yourself you felt him twitch within you, filling you as he reached his own finish.

You watched him as he came, mesmerised with his blissful expression, his long eyelashes touching defined cheekbones. His eyes fluttered back open and he gave you a smirk- god help you he was fucking gorgeous.

He gave you a chaste kiss before helping you up, the combined fluids from your finish trickling down your thigh. You were happy to see some hit the couch as you moved off him.

You strolled to the bathroom to clean yourself up and throw on a t-shirt and panties, passing a damp cloth to him once you returned. You pulled a cigarette from the pack you had on the kitchen counter, then headed to the balcony as you lit it up.

You were leaning on the balcony, watching the now dark waves when he joined you. You smiled at him, offering him your cigarette. He took a long drag as you leant on the balcony’s edge.

“So,” you trailed off, not sure what to say.

“That was fun,” he exhaled then smiled at you, his expression mischievous.

“Yeah,” you agreed, relief filling your chest. “I’d love to do it again.”

“Of course darling, we have all summer.” He came behind you, pulling you against his chest as he ducked his head so his lips were beside your ear. ”And you have quite a bit to learn.”

End Notes: Want to read more Loki fics of mine? My masterlist is here.

[the7thcrow]

600 degrees

~

pairing: bang chan x (fem) reader

summary: you can’t cook. like, really can’t cook. good thing your cute neighbour is here to help clean up the mess.

word count: 5.1k

genre: neighbours au. strangers to lovers. the fluffiest of fluff, slightly suggestive.

warnings: a make-out session, bad humour, minho being a twat of a roommate, and tooth-rotting fluff.

rating: 14+

a/n: hi guys! hope you enjoy this one, it’s so much more wholesome and fluffy than what i usually write, but I'm pretty happy about it. don’t by shy to send me an ask or leave a comment. anything you have to say, I would love to hear. :)

...

..

.

“Fine. Since you won’t come, at least enlighten me on how you plan to keep yourself busy?” Minho asks, casually leaning against your kitchen island. He stares at you, with that familiar condescending smirk you’ve seen far too many times.

“I don’t know,” you state, rolling your eyes. Rising to your feet, you head over to your shared refrigerator, pulling a bottle of Sangria out of the fridge. “But I’m sure I’ll find something.”

“You know, if you want to drink, you could at least do it at the party.” Minho approaches you from behind, placing both his hands on your shoulders. “It’s a lot less sad that way.”

You slap his hand away, letting out a frustrated groan at the laughter he lets out from his own joke. “I get out plenty, quit acting like I’m some lonely cat lady,” you say, grabbing your favourite wine glass from the cupboard. “I like parties, I just don’t like Jisung’s parties. They always get way out of hand.”

“But Y/N,” Minho wines, picking up your freshly poured glass and taking a sip, earning himself a glare. “I never said you were a cat lady, just the lonely part.”

At that you snatch the glass away from his hands. Not wanting to deal with this torment any longer, you walk back to your comfortable, worn-in spot on the couch.

“You know I’m right,” he says, continuing despite the fact you begin to turn up the volume of the television. “And the only way you’re going to change that is by accompanying me to Jisung’s loud, out of hand parties.”

You turn to face him, raising your eyebrows. “Somehow, I doubt my soulmate associates himself with Han Jisung.”

“Well that can’t be right, because I associate myself with Han Jisung?”

“Shut up, Minho.”

Your roommate snickers to himself as he opens the fridge, taking a quick glance at everything - or for a better term, lack of anything - inside. “What are you even going to eat? There’s nothing leftover from last night.”

“I’ll make something,” you say. Frankly, you had expected the outburst of laughter, but that didn’t do anything to simmer down your growing annoyance.

“Make something?” Minho laughs, giving you an incredulous stare. “Y/N, I’ve lived with you for two years and I don’t think I’ve seen you cook anything once.”

“Hey, I can cook,” you return, wrinkling your nose. “But why would I, when I have you to do it for me?”

At this, it’s Minho’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah, okay, I take that back. I don’t want you to come, have fun curling up on the couch alone with your three cats.”

“They’re literally yours.”

“Whatever,” he says, opening your front door. “Just don’t burn the apartment down, alright?”

As he closes the door, you flip him off. At first, you aren’t sure if he saw, but you’re given your answer as his laughter echoes down the hallway, fading as he walks further away.

You scowl. Of course you can cook. Well, at the very least, well enough to make a meal for one on a saturday night. Minho didn’t know what he was talking about.

Minho. Your best friend and roommate for the last two years. Man, does the guy have a way of pushing your buttons. You love him, of course. In the weird, bickering, just short of volatile friendship sort of way the two of you had developed.

Still, you can’t deny that even with his painfully irritable nature, he is still a good friend. No matter how many times you say no, he always offers to take you anywhere he goes. He pushes you out of your comfort zone. He’s there to console you when a date goes bad, or you failed a test you studied hard for. He makes all his meals for two, just because he doesn’t want you to live solely off shitty take-out.

He’s your rock. Your platonic other half. Your closest companion.

Which means you are going to prove him wrong, and then rub it in his face as much as you possibly can. Of course, because that’s what friends are for.

~~~~

Then again, maybe you wouldn’t. Or, at the very least, it was going to be exceedingly more difficult now that your apartment was full of smoke.

Covering your nose with one hand, you take the tray of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. If you can even call them that, as they now held a far closer resemblance to that of hockey pucks. Both in looks, and what you could assume in taste, as well.

Okay, you know chocolate chip cookies don’t really count as a decent meal, but they are the only thing you remember how to cook from when you lived at home. Or maybe you didn’t remember, based on the tray of failure sitting in front of you.

Then, to make matters even worse, your fire alarm starts going off.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath. Now you are going to have to go to the front desk, let them know everything is okay.

Maybe Minho was right, you should’ve just went to Jisung’s stupid party and eaten something there. Putting all the other painful aspects of Han’s parties aside, Felix was his roommate, so the horderves were always excellent.

They were better than your hockey puck cookies, anyway.

Letting out a disappointed sigh, you open your apartment door, prepared to get a rough scolding from the lady working the front desk. However, you are surprised to find a man standing in front of you, his hand in the air, as if he were about to knock.

“Hi,” he says, awkwardly putting his hand back down at his side. He has messy platinum blonde hair, and soft eyes. He’s cute, and the realization quickly makes you recognize him.

“You’re my neighbor,” you say, pointing a finger at him. It’s not until he doesn’t respond immediately that you realize it was a strange thing to say. Obviously, he knows he’s your neighbor, and he might be a little offended you didn’t recognize him immediately.

Then again, the two of you had never really talked before. Everytime you would pass each other in the hall, he’d always give a polite nod and continue walking. Sometimes you’d try to say hello, or start a small conversation, but he always disappeared quickly. It had gotten to the point where you assumed he had some strange, unwarranted grudge against you.

So, it was safe to say that you were more than just a little surprised to find him at your door.

“Uh, yeah, I am. Are you okay? I thought I smelt something burning, and then I heard the fire alarm go off.” He asks, peeking behind you into your apartment, seeing if he can catch sight of any flames.

Instead, his eyes land on your tray of butchered cookies, and he… smirks?

“Oh,” he says, attempting to hide the smile growing on his face. “Having some cooking trouble?”

You stare at him for a moment, watching as his lips pursed together, stifling a chuckle. “Are you...” you begin, your jaw dropping slightly. “Are you laughing at me?”

“No,” he looks down at you, finally letting his grin free. “I would never.”

“Yeah, okay,” you frown, already not enjoying that sarcastic look on his face. You thought you’d be able to avoid that humiliating look considering Minho wasn’t here, but apparently not.

 “As you can see, it’s nothing. So if you’ll excuse me,” you continue, attempting to move past him. “I need to go get my neck rung by the lady at the front desk,” However, he doesn’t budge from his place in your door frame. You cast him a glare, which only makes his smile grow wider.

“Nah, don’t worry, I’ll go let her know,” he says, already turning to walk down the hall. You open your mouth to object, but he casts a glance over his shoulder, snickering. “You focus on cleaning up whatever those black lumps were supposed to be.”

You stand in your doorway, dumbfounded as your neighbor disappears down the complex staircase. Who did this guy think he was, openly laughing at your current predicament? Sure, if the roles were reversed, there’s no doubt that you would do the same. But that isn’t the point.

No. The point is that you are not impressed by the audacity of this stranger, and you are going to make sure that this distaste is known.

Grumbling to yourself, you dump the still smoking cookies in the trash can. It’s a shame, really. You’d thought you were doing so well, too. You thought this would be your chance to prove Minho wrong. Minho. Oh, he would be having an absolute hay day if he were here right now, and the thought only makes your scowl deepen.

“Well,” your neighbor calls from behind you, causing you to jump slightly. He reappears in the open door frame, sticking his neck inside, but not fully crossing the threshold into your apartment. “She’s not thrilled, but the alarm didn’t trigger the main system’s sprinklers, so you’re good.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

The man smiles. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly were you trying to make anyway?”

An embarrassed blush casts itself over your cheeks. “Chocolate chip cookies,” you mumble, not meeting his eyes.

He lets out a burst of laughter, smiling widely. You can’t help but notice that he had a cute smile, dimples on both of his cheeks, eyes crinkled. Not that you were looking. Not that you cared, obviously.

“How’d you manage to mess up chocolate chip cookies that badly?”

“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging your shoulders helplessly. “You tell me.” You gesture towards the oven. Your neighbor smirks, walking inside your apartment. He bends down in front of your oven, before taking a look inside.

“Well, nothing seems to be wrong in there…” he starts, before glancing up at the set temperature. “Oh,” he states, before looking back at you, his eyes full of pity. “Oh boy.”

“What?” You ask defensively.

“The temperature. You forgot to convert it from celsius to fahrenheit. See?” He says, leaning away from the oven to give you a closer look. “So you thought you were cooking them at 350 degrees fahrenheit, when in reality they were at over 600 degrees.”

“Oh my god,” you say, smacking your palm against your forehead. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I don’t know,” the guy shrugs. “You could have burnt your apartment down, so I’d consider it a win. You’re lucky I got here on time.”

You cast him a scowl, although you can’t seem to relinquish the faintest hint of a smile creeping onto your lips. You know damn well you wouldn’t have started a fire, and that the man showing up really didn’t stop anything but an uncomfortable conversation with the front lady. You are also sure that he is fully aware of this too, which makes your smirk grow wider. Alright, you’ll play along.

“Right, what ever would I do without you?” you say sarcastically, causing your neighbor to playfully roll his eyes. He leans against your kitchen counter, relaxing slightly.

“Does my saviour have a name?” You ask, opening the fridge to take a look at what’s inside. You feel your stomach rumble, taking a glance at the clock to see that it was already past 9:00.

“It’s Chris,” he smiles, leaning over your shoulder. “So what are you going to eat, now that you’ve successfully butchered the easiest recipe known to man?”

“Hey!” You snipe. “That is certainly not the easiest recipe known to man.”

“Fine, fine,” Chris says, putting his hands up in defense. “Maybe not the easiest, but it’s definitely up there. But putting that aside, what are you going to eat? Because I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever seen a fridge so empty.”

You want to quip back at him, but he’s right. Minho usually does the grocery shopping, but because of Jisung’s party tonight he wasn’t planning on cooking anything.

“Good question,” you sigh, closing the refrigerator door before leaning your back against it. “Maybe I’ll just order some take out. I don’t think my pride can handle another failure.”

Chris smiles. “Or, I have an idea,” he says, his eyes glinting. He heads over to your apartment door, and for a moment you worry that he’s leaving.

No, you’re not worried. You’re curious. That’s all. You were curious whether or not he was leaving, nothing more.

When Chris returns, he has his arms full of ingredients. Spinach, penne, tomato sauce, cream, a variety of spices. The list goes on, and he stumbles slightly, almost dropping the surplus of food onto your kitchen floor. Imagining the mess, you rush over to help him, placing the load of groceries onto the counter.

“I don’t know if you couldn’t tell before,” you say, motioning to your overflowing counter. “But I really can’t cook. I have no clue what to do with any of this.”

“That’s no problem,” Chris smiles, already separating the food into different groups. “I’ll help you.”

“No, no, no. I can’t ask you to do that,” you say, waving your hands in protest. You step in front of him, squeezing yourself between his chest and the kitchen counter, preventing him from reaching any of the ingredients. “You’ve already dealt with the desk lady for me, and brought over all these groceries. You’ve done more than enough.”

He smiles, gently placing his hands on your shoulders and effortlessly moving you to the side. “Why would I bring you these groceries if I knew you couldn’t do anything with them?” When you don’t respond, he continues. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Don’t worry about it. Just let me help you.”

You sigh in defeat, ignoring the way your heart begins to beat faster in your chest. “Alright,” you say, grabbing Minho’s cutting board from the cupboard. “Let’s do this, then.”

~~~~

An hour later, you find yourself sitting on top of your kitchen counter, Chris stationed by the stove working on the pasta sauce. You had genuinely tried to help in the beginning, you really did. But after Chris criticized your (awful) cutting technique, and said he didn’t exactly trust you to do anything else, you gave up.

Besides, you don’t have a problem watching him work. Over the last hour, you’ve come to learn that Chris is an absolute whiz in the kitchen. Moving from place to place, adding spices by intuition and nothing more. This wasn’t something you could have managed to make yourself in a million years, and it’s obvious that if you tried to assist him right now, you’d only get in the way.

Of course, you’ve learned a lot more about Chris in the last hour than just that. Where he grew up, his hobbies, what he was currently studying at the university. Music theory, as you’d learned. As cool as it sounded, Han had managed to tarnish your image of music majors, but you suppose you could give Chris a chance.

“It’s almost done,” Chris says, glancing over his shoulder to look at you.

“Thank God, I’m starving,” you reply, leaping off the counter to stand beside him.

“What, no ‘thank you, Chris?’ No, ‘what ever would I have done without you, Chris?’” He mocks offence, placing a hand on his heart.

“It’s not even done yet. I’ll thank you after I try it, I promise.” You laugh, rolling your eyes.

“Ah, so you’re only thankful if you like it. I see how it is,” Chris says, crossing his arms in front of himself, pouting his lower lip slightly.

“Guess so,” you say, crossing your own arms mockingly. Chris smiles, those cute little dimples of his dancing across his cheeks.

Then you feel it, that little jump of your heart. The faintest skip of a beat that you’d familiarized yourself with over the last hour. That little hint of anticipation that makes you decide that you are, even if only slightly, a bit interested in Chris.

After all, he’s funny and sweet. Can carry a conversation well, and to understate it, undeniably easy on the eyes. That’s more than enough to give him a chance.

Most of all, however, you like that little flare between the two of you. The sarcasm, the banter. It doesn’t feel the same as when Minho does it, slightly condescending and done purely to harbour your annoyance. No, this is different. It is a challenge. He wants you to quip back, to push further. To make him smirk, or laugh, or roll his eyes.

“Alright, fine then,” he says, taking the large wooden spoon and scooping up some of the pasta sauce. “Tell me if this is up to par, your majesty.”

You aren’t sure if he wants you to take the spoon, or let him hold it for you as you take a bite. You decide to take the gamble, gently moving your lips around the spoon, tasting the sauce. You glance up at Chris, a small look of surprise on his face. However, you don’t miss the flash of something behind his eyes. The faintest hint of affection, interest.

The sauce itself is delicious. A perfect blend of tomato, basil and cream. You hum contently, giving him a thumbs up.

“Chris, this is amazing,” you praise, admiring the small blush that sprinkles his cheeks.

“It’s really nothing,” he says, diverting his gaze and rubbing the back of his neck, shyly.

“No, seriously,” you say, taking the spoon from his hand and scooping some of the sauce up yourself. “Try it.” You hold the spoon out in front of him, and he raises his eyebrows slightly. Your gaze remains firm. A challenge.

Hesitantly, he takes the bite, not breaking eye contact as he does so. You stare at him, watching the way his lips move around the spoon, the intensity of his gaze. The action itself should be innocent, yet you feel a warmth rise to your cheeks.

Chris swallows, taking his lips off the spoon. For a moment, neither of you say anything. You can feel the change in the atmosphere of the room. The spark between you two being brought alight.

You swallow hard. “So?” You ask quietly.

“Yeah, it’s good. Very good,” he says back, his voice low and raspy. He goes to take the spoon from you, and his hand lingers a moment, his thumb trailing the skin of your knuckles.

You feel yourself lean in slightly, fully prepared to take the leap, when suddenly he breaks away from you, eagerly taking a few steps back. He looks away, placing a hand on his face, as if he were ashamed.

“Shit. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I know you’re seeing someone, we shouldn’t be doing this. I’m sorry,” he babbles, completely turning away from you.

You open your mouth to say something, but no words come out. Seeing someone? Where the hell could he have possibly gotten that idea?

“Seeing someone?” You ask, incredulously voicing your thoughts. You grab him by the shoulder, turning him around. “Why do you think I’m seeing someone?”

Chris still refuses to meet your eyes, instead focusing intently on the wall behind you. “The guy that lives here- Minho - aren’t you two?”

“Minho?” You gape, contorting your face in a look of pure disgust. “Ew, gross! No! Believe me, I am not dating Minho, I’d genuinely rather stick this spoon in my eye,” you exclaim, lifting up the utensil.

At that Chris finally looks at you, wearing his own look of pure confusion. “Wait, really? But whenever I hear you guys out in the hall, the two of you are always so… flirty.”

“Flirty?” You laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement. “If by flirty you mean he teases me literally every god damn second of every day, then yeah sure, I guess. But believe me, there is absolutely nothing romantic about that. Not in the least.”

Chris shakes his head, a smile forming at the corners of his lips. “Wow. I am such an idiot,” he sighs, a rediscovered lightness to his tone.

“No, no. Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him. “Anyone could make that mistake, I guess. It’s really no big-”

“No, it’s not just that,” he cuts you off. “That’s why I’ve never talked to you before now.”

“You never talked to me because you thought that me and Minho were dating?” You ask, slightly confused. Even if you were dating, you didn’t see why that would stop him from starting a conversation with you. “Why?”

“Well,” he sighs, his cheeks reddening further. “I thought you were pretty, and based on the way you always quipped back at him, clever and funny as well. I don’t know, it just felt wrong to try and build a friendship with you, knowing how I already felt a little....”  

You smirk, drawing yourself slightly closer to him. “A little what?”

His smile transforms itself from embarrassed to a sly grin of his own. “A little into you, I guess.”

“It really is a shame,” you shrug, trying to hide the excitement building in your chest. “Because here I was, thinking my cute neighbor had some irrational grudge against me.”

Chris leans in, so the two of you are only inches apart. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, smell the strong fragrance of his cologne. Sharp with lemon zest and mint.

“We could always make up for lost time, you know,” he says, his eyes flashing with mischief.

That is all the invitation you need to break the space between the two of you. You press Chris’ lips against your own, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other along the line of his jaw. His lips are soft, you notice. Tender in the slow rhythm the two of you develop.

He runs his hands up along your figure. One of them finding itself locked in your hair, the other placed firmly on the curve of your lower back. Gently, he leads the two of you away from the stove, placing you so that your back is pressed up against the kitchen counter.

You run your hand down along his chest, reveling in the groan he let’s out as your fingers trail down his lower abdomen. The sound is electricity pulsing through you, charging the room and igniting the atmosphere around the two of you.

His lips leave yours, trailing your jaw before making their way down your neck. Each individual kiss is slow and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine. You take a deep breath to stable yourself, and it does not go unnoticed.

Chris smirks, shifting his gaze to meet yours. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown out with desire. “You know, if we keep this up, the pasta sauce is going to burn,” he says, letting his fingers trail along your collarbone.

“Let it,” you shrug. “I wasn’t hungry anyways.”

Chris laughs at this, leaning forward so his face brushes the crook of your neck. “Yeah, right,” he says, allowing his lips to dust your skin. Suddenly, he bites down, not enough to break through the skin, but certainly enough to leave a small mark.  

You laugh, running your hands in his hair, half-heartedly pulling him off of your neck. “Hey! That hurt,” you exclaim, only half serious.

“Sorry,” he grins, before crashing his lips into yours once again. The pace between the two of you is much faster now, each kiss more passionate. More promising. Your desire rings through you, clouding your mind in a hazy fog of lust. It is dizzying, just how much you want him at this moment.

You're certain he feels the same way, given in how tightly he grips your thigh, his breath ragged every time you break apart. It is messy. Greedy. The two of you so deeply wanting more. More of each other.

You’re about to ask if he wants to move this to the bedroom, when suddenly the apartment door swings open. It’s almost comical, how quickly you and Chris break apart, springing to opposite ends of the kitchen.

“I hate to say it, but you were right,” Minho calls as he walks inside, not yet glancing up from his phone screen. “Shit got out of hand. Someone managed to break the pool table, don’t even ask how, I don’t know either. Almost gave Felix an aneurysm. I swear the kid was about to cry, poor guy. Han had to shut everything down. So you really didn’t miss out on-” Minho stops as he sees Chris, a confused yet bemused expression crossing his face.

“Oh, hey Chan,” he says, causing you to give Chris a look.

“A nickname,” Chris mouths to you, as discreetly as he possibly can.

“What are you doing over here?” Minho asks him, crossing his arms and leaning against the door. He has that smug smirk on his face that makes you want to punch him.

“Oh, well…” Chris starts, casting you a glance. “Y/N made some food, and there was too much of it, so she invited me over.”

“Really?” Minho asks, caught off guard. He walks past you and Chris, staring at the pasta and sauce currently sitting on the oven burners. “You’re saying Y/N made this?”

“Well, yeah?” Chris says, feigning confusion. “Of course, I wouldn’t lie about something like that. Why?”

You have to stop yourself from laughing, looking at the expression of utter bewilderment on Minho’s face. Minho glances at you, narrowing his eyes, before sighing.

“Well then, I guess you proved me wrong on two things tonight, Y/N,” he says, grabbing a bowl from the cupboard.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he begins to scoop some of the penne into his dish.

“Oh, you said there was a lot,” Minho responds, raising one eyebrow. “Can I not have some?”

“Sorry, go ahead,” you say, still slightly flustered by the abruptness of his entrance. Minho finishes filling his bowl and takes a seat at the kitchen island. As he begins to eat, the room is filled with a rather tense silence. You and Chris share an awkward look, unsure of what to do next.

Minho looks up from his dish, glancing between the two of you.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, grabbing his bowl and standing up from his chair. “I’m going to go eat this in my room. Have fun you two.”

Before you can say anything, Minho disappears around the corner, down the hallway leading to his room. You turn back towards Chris. The two of you stare at each other for a moment, before bursting out into a fit of laughter.

“He’s a bit of a mood-killer, huh?” You say, grabbing two bowls from the cupboard, offering him one.

Chris nods in thanks as he takes the bowl from your hands. “Just a little bit,” he laughs, beginning to scoop some of the pasta into both of your dishes.

The two of you take a seat at your counter, spending the meal talking and laughing. Nothing else, the moment has passed, but that doesn’t bother you. You enjoy Chris’ presence. His quick humour and thoughtful conversation.

It really is something that you could get used to, you decide.

After you’re done eating, you walk Chris over to the door, handing him his surplus of spice bottles and leftover spinach.

“Thank you for doing all this, seriously. The food was delicious, you’re seriously gifted. And also, thank you for covering for me, I really didn’t feel like listening to Minho die laughing over the burnt cookies,” you admit.

“It’s no problem, really,” Chris smiles. He shifts all the spices over to his right arm, letting his free hand fall down to his side. Softly, he takes your hand in his, letting your fingers intertwine.

“Listen,” he continues, shyly looking up from your hands to meet your eyes. “If you’re not doing anything tomorrow, you’re welcome to come over for a proper dinner. You know, so I can show you what I can actually make when it’s not a last minute attempt at salvaging a meal.”

You smile a goofy, genuine grin. “That sounds good to me,” you say. Hesitantly, you lean forwards, planting a soft, innocent kiss on his lips.

As you break apart, he hums contently. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, thanks for today. You made my night, Y/N.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Chris.” You watch as he walks over to his apartment door, which is of course, only a few meters away from your own. When he disappears into his own apartment, you sigh, closing your own door behind you. You lean against the frame, letting out a shaky breath, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. It’s been so long since you’ve held any genuine interest in someone, you feel almost giddy.

That is until you see Minho, leaning against the corner of the kitchen wall, watching you with his cheshire smirk.

“Dinner tomorrow, huh?” He asks, walking into the kitchen and scooping himself the last of the pasta.

“What about it?” You retort, not giving in to that pestering look in his eyes.

“Oh, nothing. I’m sure it’ll be good, considering Chan clearly made this,” Minho says, shoveling some of the pasta into his mouth.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, grabbing two wine glasses from the cupboard.

“Save it, the lady at the front desk told me you almost set the apartment on fire,” Minho laughs as you pour the wine.

You let out a groan, handing him his glass. “God dammit.”

“Don’t blame her though,” he smiles, leaning back and taking a sip. “I wouldn’t have believed you could have cooked that anyway.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“Had me fooled for a second there though,” he says, patting you on the head. “But more importantly, you like Chan huh?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right. Nice hickey, by the way,” he smirks, raising his eyebrows.

You pull up the collar of your shirt, casting him a glare. “Okay, maybe I do,” you shrug. “What’s it to you?”

“Nothing,” he replies, before taking a second to think. “Just please don’t fuck him or anything tomorrow. Walls are thin.”

You laugh, taking your glass of wine and flopping yourself back down on the living room couch.

“Shut up, Minho.”

~

thanks for reading loves <3

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Nanny Pt. 1

Lee Bodecker x Nanny!F!Reader

18+ 

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s), cursing, Sandy and Carl being bad parents, 18+ content in later chapters 

Summary:

Based on this Request: The reader moves to Meade/Knockemstiff while answering an advertisement for a nanny in the paper. We learn that the ad was posted by Sandy, who has the reader watch her child whenever she and Carl leave to do their secret thing. After one of these trips, Sandy and her husband never return, so the reader is left caring for their baby. With the new investigation into these events, she meets Sandy’s brother Lee, the older, out of shape, alcoholic bachelor, and they are suddenly thrown into each others lives as he begins looking into his sister’s disappearance. Through it all, Lee starts to fall for her, and they slowly become a family.

A/N: Here is the first part of my newest series and I want to thank the anon who reached out to me with this idea! 

If I missed anything I should include as a warning that I missed please let me know!

Taglist Form is in my bio and should be updated to now to include this fic! (If for some reason it isn’t working send me a message and I’ll make sure you’re added!!)

“Damn it, Sandy, can’t you handle that?” Carl yells from his dark room as the baby starts crying again.

“Fuck you, Carl,” Sandy shouts back, hurrying to put out her cigarette before heading to the nursery.

Their little girl was just about a year old, and neither one of them knew what they were doing. Carl was incredibly indifferent and despite her honest attempts at motherhood, Sandy’s maternal instincts never kicked in like she thought it would happen. Carl was annoyed that it cut into their time they would be on trips. They weren’t able to photograph models with the baby on the road, so he’d been itching to get back on the road.

“Is she hungry?” he shouts back, not even bothering to take his eyes off of the most recent photographs he had been developing.

“I just fed her!”

“Then why is she crying?”

“Fuck if I know,” Sandy shouts back exasperated. She scooped up the baby from her crib and started to rock her back and forth in her arms. Sandy also tried burping her, humming a little lullaby she made up on the fly… no luck. She walks around the house with the baby on her hip, trying to rock her back to sleep.

“We haven’t able to get back on the road in a year,” Carl says, clearly frustrated.

“That ain’t purely my fault,” she spits back, “Takes two to make a baby, Carl.”

“Fuck I know,” he groans, “But I need new inspiration. If I take one more picture of nature…”

“If she’s such a hindrance, pay for a damn sitter like I suggested months ago,” she counters.

“We can’t have no stranger walking around the house Sandy,” he points out.

“Just keep your damn room locked, it’s not a huge deal,” Sandy sighs. “Besides, no one is gonna snoop around if you pay ‘em enough. You damn well produce your own incriminating evidence; you should always have that room locked anyways.”

“We only have to worry about your damn brother,” Carl points out, “We hire a fucking sitter that’s two people we need to worry about.”

“You’re just to goddamn cheap to hire somebody,” Sandy states, moving back towards the nursery, the baby now snoring softly.

“You know what? Fine,” Carl says defeated. “But you’re in charge of putting the ad out and hiring somebody.”

“Thank you,” she says in a sing song tone, happy she got her way. But the moment of quiet that follows is short lived as they baby starts crying again.

“Please for the love of God can you just take care of that?” Carl yells, and the argument circles back to the beginning.

You had sat in the small dinner in the corner booth hunched over the newspaper and nursing your now cold cup of coffee. You had just arrived in Knockemstiff and were looking for work. “Any leads?” Julie asked as she topped off your coffee. Julie was your roommate. You had found her the same way you were currently looking for a job. You must have answered at least ten terrible Roommate Wanted ads until you had found Julie. The two of you now share an apartment- the top floor of a three-family owned by a sweet older couple.

“Thank you,” you say without looking up from scanning the ads. “Maybe this one?” You say pointing to one of the ads. She looks to see her manager stepped out for his smoke break before sliding in the booth across from you. You slide the paper over to her and she reads the ad out loud.

NANNY NEEDED Knockemstiff, Ohio

Couple that travels for work in need of a nanny for one-year-old daughter.

Temporary live-in position for several weeks at a time. Pay negotiable.

Call Sandy Henderson at the below number.

“I can sublet the room temporarily while you stay there,” Julie offers. “It’s a pretty vague offer,” she continues. “I wouldn’t commit until you call and speak to that Sandy woman.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll need to be interviewed,” you agree. “What kind of people are comfortable just leaving their baby for weeks at a time with a perfect stranger?”

“Paul is still out back I think,” she chuckles, “I’ll let you use the wall phone.”

You take a seat at one of the stools at the counter, and she dials the number for you and then passes you the receiver. You mouth a thank you and she waves her hand in dismissal as she heads over to take someone’s order.

“Whaddya want?” the woman on the other end answers abruptly.

“Oh, I’m calling about the ad in the paper regarding the nanny position. Is it still available?”

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, hun,” the woman says, now in a much nicer tone. “Thought it was my brother calling. Yes, it is, and we need it filled as soon as possible. When are you available?”

“For an interview?” You ask.

“Yeah,” she says mumbled, like she is dangling a cigarette from her mouth. “Can you come today?”

“Oh, wow. Yes, I can,” you reply.

“Great, um, you got a pen? Take down this address.”

About two hours, a change of clothes and a cab ride later, you were standing outside a house towards the end of town. It was a little run down, but what building in this town wasn’t? You were a little nervous of course, but it was also the most unconventional way you have gotten an interview. Part of you was relieved, because the woman on the phone sounded real, not phony, but the circumstances still made you uneasy. Julie had the address and said you’d call when you got back to the taxi dispatch.

“Welcome, welcome,” Sandy smiled, opening up the door for you. She had one hand on the doorknob and one of the cutest babies you’d ever seen in the other. “Come on in, make yourself comfortable.”

“Who is this?” you coo, leaning down to the baby’s eye level. “She’s darling.”

“This little sweetheart is Valerie,” Sandy smiles, passing the baby to you. “She’s so well-behaved. Hardly ever cries.”

“She’s adorable,” you smile, as the baby cuddles up close, resting her head on your shoulder. “I didn’t properly introduce myself on the phone. (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“I’m Sandy,” she introduces herself. “Please take a seat on the couch, get comfortable. I hate things that are so formal. Bleh.”

You take a seat on the couch, and readjust the little girl in your arms so she’s sitting on your lap and her back is resting against you so she is supported.

“So, my husband and I are on the road a lot, usually,” she begins, “We took some time off when we had Valerie, but we really need to start working again, you understand.”

“Of course, what do you both do?” you ask politely.

“We’re photographers,” she beams, “Mostly nature and landmarks- which reminds me! We have a darkroom in the house, but that door will be locked when you’re staying here. We don’t want any damage to any of the negatives we have stored in there you understand. Everywhere else in the house is yours to explore! And of course we gotta spare bedroom you can call your own.”

“Fair enough,” you joke.

“So, tell me about yourself, honey,” she smiles, crossing her legs in the armchair where she sat.

“Well, I just moved here a few weeks ago actually,” you begin, “I just recently finished school, and now I’m looking for work. I just got my degree in early childcare from the state college.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she says with a clap of her hands. “So, you’re local?”

“Yes, I live in town.”

“Excellent! We’d also love for this to be like an on-call thing as well, you know for date nights and things like that for times when we’re home. Like for a few hours here and there. And of course, we’ll always live money for groceries or whatever you need on top of your pay for emergencies incase Valerie needs formula or diapers or anything.”

“Perfect,” you smile, surprised how well the conversation was going. Sandy was easy-going and nice to talk to. The two of you sat and talked for a little under an hour, her asking all the standard questions you anticipated. You also were able to ask her some more of your own questions as well. It was the most effortless interview you had been on easily.

“I’m sorry you weren’t able to meet Carl today,” she says when she is showing you out. “But hun, I feel confident to offer you the job. We haven’t had many applicants and you’re the most qualified one I’ve spoken to. The job is yours if you want it?”

“When can I start?” you smile, making her laugh.

“Your number is on the resume, right?” she says, scooping up the baby. You nod, waving goodbye to the baby and then saying goodbye to Sandy.

“I’ll call you when I speak to Carl, but I think once he knows he’ll want to head out as soon as we can. Plan for Sunday,” she says as you get into the cab.

Just like she had promised, you get a call from Sandy on Saturday afternoon asking you to show up the next morning at 9. You spend the day packing up your clothes and anything else you’d need for a few weeks. Sandy said they’d be back in two weeks but you pack for three just in case. Julie was also nice enough to help you. You didn’t need to do much. Ever since you had settled in Knockemstiff, you had been pretty lazy with unpacking and for once procrastination played out in your favor.

Julie insisted on taking you out to celebrate that night before starting your job tomorrow. There was a small little bar, a little shack of a place just on the outside of town you went to. Julie had a car and you drove, anticipating she’d have a lot more to drink than you. It was a hotter summer night, so you drove with the windows down and the radio playing a little louder than you normally would.

The outside was decorated with string lights of primary colors and the wooden awning looked like it was one more storm away from collapsing. But the atmosphere inside was to die for. The jukebox was playing loud dance music, and the place was crowded. Empty recycled glasses lined the walls on a high shelf as decoration along with weathered posters of anything Americana. A row of motorcycles and trucks were parked outside the little place and it looked like a pileup from how crowded the lot was. People lingered outside as well, and you both hoped you’d find seats inside.

The two of you found a high-top table and Julie made her way up to the bar, skillfully maneuvering through the crowd to grab you both some drinks. You let your eyes wandering, surveying the room and just people watching. Couples were dancing closely to the music that was rattling the jukebox, and a group of people were sitting at the bar huddles in to watch the little black and white portable television. You also noticed a group of men in uniform several tables down, local police. They weren’t paying any attention to anyone but their own conversation, except one.

He just so happened to have looked up just as your eyes landed on their table. Steel blue eyes cutting across everything and just staring right back into yours. It was a fraction of a second and his gaze was broken by Julie taking her seat across from you. You cleared your throat, and finally allowed yourself to exhale. You felt her raise an eyebrow at you but she didn’t press, just gave you a knowing smirk you brushed off. You still felt his gaze on you even if your view was now obstructed.

Sandy and Carl were in a rush when you arrived in the morning. Sandy ran you through the details of where everything was kept and told you that she would call to check in when she could when they made stopped. She helped you carry your bags in from the trunk of the taxi while Carl packed their bags in their car. He was polite enough, but you felt in your gut to just keep your distance. Sandy led you upstairs to the guest room she told you she worked to clean out for you. It was simple, a bed and a dresser with a small closet. She said it mostly had been storage and her weekend project had been clearing it out for you. It was simple, but good enough for you for sure. You thanked her and she dismissed it saying you were the one doing her a favor, making you laugh.

The whole ordeal was very hurried. Carl was rushing to get on the road as soon as possible and you could tell he was clearly irritated at how long Sandy was taking showing you around and explaining things about Valerie. Carrying the baby in your arms, you finally were settled in to your new role and Sandy gave one more big hug and a kiss on Valerie’s head before rushing down to the car. You waved to the pair of them from the small front porch, Sandy looking back and waving to the baby from the passenger seat until they were out of your line of vision.

The first day was a little daunting. New space, living in a house that isn’t yours and a baby babbling in your arms. She was a sweet thing, and she already had taken a liking to you. Heading over to her nursery, you saw that she had a little play pen folded up in the corner of the nursery and you quickly set it up in your room so you could unpack while keeping an eye on her. She babbled just happy utter nonsense to you while you navigated around the space and her big eyes just followed you, just watching you was entertaining for her for now. You were a new face and she was entertained just by that for now.

A few hours later, Valerie had settled down for a nap in the early afternoon. She was sleeping soundly in her crib and you were getting formula ready for when she woke up. It was quiet, the only noise in the house was the small sounds of your own rustling in the kitchen. You wondered when you would hear from Sandy, if it would be later tonight or in a couple of days. You just were lost in your own thoughts when you were startled by a loud knocking on the door. Instantly, Valerie began to cry. You wiped your hands quickly on the skirt of your dress before grabbing her. You rested her on your hip and rocked her gently, shushing her to calm down while you went to grab the door.

The first thing your eyes saw were the same blue eyes who was looking at you at the bar last night. The man’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked really confused. He had one hand rested on his hip and the other against the doorframe, but he stood up straight when he saw it wasn’t who he expected. Your eyes then went down to the shiny Sheriff’s Badge fixed in place on his uniform.

“Who are you?” he asks abruptly. “Where’s Sandy?”

“Sandy and Carl left this morning,” you explain, not sure if he recognizes you. “I’m their nanny.”

He laughs and shakes his head as he looks down, almost like he doesn’t believe you, or he just doesn’t believe the situation. “Carl? Carl Henderson hired a nanny?” he scoffs and you nod, holding Valerie a little closer. The little girl rubs her eyes and yawns, when her eyes flutter open, she looks at the stranger in the doorway and immediately reaches out to signal she wants to be held by him. You ignore her resistance to wanting to be in your arms until you get more information about why the Sheriff is at their doorstep, though she obviously knows him.

“I’m Sandy’s brother,” he explains, “Did she say when they were coming back?” He doesn’t try to hold the baby yet, just holds out one of his fingers and her little hand holds onto it tightly.

“Two weeks.”

“They hire a complete stranger to watch my niece and live in their house unsupervised while they drive around?” he scoffs, shaking his head again in disbelief.

“I’m more than qualified…”

“It’s not a jab at you, sweetheart,” the man tries to explain, “More so a reflection on my sister and her husband is all. They are… fairly selfish people and I wished this situation surprises me more than it does.”

“Should I tell her you came by when she calls?” you ask.

“If she calls,” the man chuckles, “Sure, let her know Lee stopped by to visit.”

“You don’t think she will?” you ask, tilting your head.

“We’ll see,” Lee shrugs, “Do I know you from somewhere?” He rests his arm back up on the doorframe and looks down to the baby again, extending out his free hand to her again and scrunching her cheeks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, not wanting to admit you remembered seeing him last night. He purses his lips together and nods, not pressing further. He pushes off from the doorframe and puts his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Must’ve been in a dream then,” he smirks, and you feel your cheeks flush. He walks down the steps and back towards his cop car. “What did you say your name was?” he asks, turning back around.

“I didn’t,” you chuckle.

“Hmm,” he nods, and raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to fill in the blank. You tell him your name and he repeats it back to you like he’s thinking about it, trying it out to see how it sounds.

“Well,” he says, standing behind the open driver’s door, “Good luck, and I hope Sandy proves me wrong. Let me know if she calls.”

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