#his face when he finally sees the car & six … I’m not okay

[sturnioloskies]

Too Damn Long // C.S.

by 💋Natalie💋

summary: chris hasn't jerked off in six weeks and desperately wants to get off

mentions: @oversturn ily 😝💋🤭

warnings: SMUT / mommy kink / sharing is caring / minors dni

DISCLAIMER: these stories are fictional :) we do not actually legitimately think matt and chris would share a partner.

text - reader

text - chris sturniolo

text - matt sturniolo

Word Count: 4318

--------------------------------

It had been far too long for Chris’s liking. Six weeks and two days too long, to be exact. Of course he had enjoyed his time on tour with his brothers, he loved getting to travel the country and make all of these wonderful memories with the people he loved the most. The excitement had died down after the first few days, though. Not that he wasn’t enjoying his time or ungrateful for anything at all, he was just tired and missed the comforts of being at home. The car and late night rides with his brothers, his bathroom where he could take showers for as long as he wanted, his bedroom, his bed…he craved it. Being away from home for too long drained him of all of his energy. 

Being back home was like a breath of fresh air. But being back in LA after their month and a half of touring didn’t eliminate anything in their busy work schedules. From recording videos, to designing merch, to meetings and sponsorships, the boys continued to stay booked and busy. 

“I’ll be back in a few hours.” 

Chris looked up from his phone as Matt trudged over to the couch, leaning down to be eye-level with his girlfriend. She looked up from her phone as well, a smile finding its way onto her face when she made eye contact with Matt. “Okay, can you get me a couple things while you’re out?” She asks, earning an eye roll from him in response. His hands rest on the couch on either side of her, his weight being shifted as he leans closer to her and presses a soft kiss to her lips. 

“So needy. Text me a list,” he tells her. He looks over at his brother for a moment. “You need anything?”

Chris went to speak, but was cut off before he could even start. 

“Pepsi, yeah yeah I know. Is there anything you NEED?”

Chris shrugged, leaning back and hooking an arm over the back of the couch as his gaze switched back down to his phone. “If I think of anything I'll let you know.”

Matt rolled his eyes again. A swift smack to his chest and his attention was back on the beauty in front of him. “Be nice,” she warned. “You’ve been at each other's throats all day,” she reminds him in a much more hushed tone. 

“This is me being nice-“

“Matt-“

“I’m being for real,” he laughs. 

“Matthew Bernard.” 

“Okay, fine.”

Chris pretended like he hadn’t heard what she said, he bit the inside of his cheek to hold back the smirk that threatened to blow his cover. “Yeah, be nice,” he parroted, his gaze still locked on his phone. Nobody ever said anything about it, but they all knew who wore the pants in that relationship. Matt would crawl on hot coals if she told him to. Chris always teased him and gave him shit about being a simp. He used that facade to hide the fact that he would do the same. 

Matt shot Chris a warning look, not in the mood to deal with his childish antics tonight. She rested her fingertips on Matt’s cheek, gently turning his head to face her once again. She leaned toward him, pressing a delicate lingering kiss to his lips. Matt caught himself from falling forward a bit when she pulled away, not wanting the kiss to be over with so soon. His girlfriend smiled at him, a soft laugh escaping her. “Go before you’re late. I’ll text you, and I’ll see you tonight.” 

Reluctantly, Matt pushed himself back to an upright position. “Fine. I’ll see you in a bit. I love you,” He states, grabbing his keys and wallet off of the coffee table. His girlfriend repeated the last statement to him, a smile creeping its way onto Matt’s face. 

Once Matt had finally left the house, Chris put his phone down on the couch and looked over at the girl sitting only a foot or two away from him. She wouldn’t agree, but Chris always thought she looked the prettiest like this; her messy hair up in a claw clip, loose hairs framing her face in long blonde waves, no makeup besides the sharp black liner that seemed to be almost engraved in her skin by how often she wore it, the comfy clothes she wore around the house when it was clear that she had nowhere to be anytime soon. 

And neither of them had anywhere to be anytime soon.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

—————————

Chris wanted to be invested in the movie, he really did. But it was proving to be much more difficult than he thought it would. The smell of her perfume was driving him wild, he wanted nothing more than to just bury his face into her neck and suffocate himself in the sweet velvety scent. How he missed her soft skin against him and her gentle touch, the sound of her voice purring his name when she spoke to him. It had been so long since the last time, too long. 

Normally he could control himself and keep his composure, normally he would be the one taking care of her whenever Matt was out of the house. But Chris had needs too, and those needs hadn’t been met in six weeks, two days, and eighteen hours. 

The sheer glimpse of her nipples and the valley of her supple breasts through her shirt had Chris’s heart lodged in his throat. The blood rushed to his cheeks, his face feeling hot. He couldn’t help but stare at her chest as his mind flooded with many thoughts, all of which would grant him a one way ticket to hell.

He scooted closer to her, resting his head on her shoulder. She smiled, wrapping her arm around his shoulders to pull him in closer. Chris obliged, leaning into her and nestling his face into the crook of her neck. Every inhale had him floating in a pool of rose petals and strawberries, he could drown himself in the scent. Her shoulder was cold, and Chris prayed that she couldn’t feel how hot his cheek was against her skin. The bridge of his nose brushed against her neck, his lips ghosting over her soft, pale skin. The blood rushed straight to his cock as he thought about biting and sucking marks all over her, the sounds she might make if he found a particularly sensitive spot. 

“What has gotten into you tonight?” She asks, running her fingers delicately through Chris’s hair, her nails gently dragging along his scalp. A shiver ran down his spine, his cock twitched in his pants, he felt his jeans beginning to grow tighter at the crotch. ‘Six weeks and almost three days is what’s gotten into me,’ he thought to himself. 

What the fuck do I say? I haven’t jerked off in over a month? I ruined three pairs of boxers in my sleep because of the dreams I had of you? I’d get bricked if I heard you on the phone with Matt? I’d meet hundreds of people and the whole time I would only be thinking about you and how I'd kill to bury myself in you? 

Chris opted on keeping his mouth shut and just nudged her with his nose again. He smiled to himself when he heard her laugh, his eyes subconsciously fluttering closed as she continued to play with his hair. 

The tightness of his pants began to grow uncomfortable. His face scrunched up at the much too familiar ache, his breathing growing heavier as he did everything in his power to not touch himself right then and there. The sweet temptation of grinding his crotch up into the palm of his hand was taunting his mind, his cock throbbing, begging for any kind of friction. He buried his face deeper, trying so hard to ignore what he was feeling. 

“Chris?” 

Oh her voice was like honey, and the sound of his name rolling off her tongue made his cock twitch once more. He loved when she said his name. Especially when he had himself buried deep inside of her. Nothing in the world sounded sweeter to him than his name falling blissfully from her lips while balls deep in her. 

Oh he missed that. Nothing satisfied him more than his brother’s girlfriend’s tight pussy. Just the thought of her pretty, drooling pussy on display for him made his dick ache. How something could be so slick and so tight at the same time, he had no idea. His cotton boxers became dampened by the precum leaking through the fabric. He spent so many nights dreaming of her thighs hooked over his shoulders, the bridge of his nose buried in her heat. Teasing her, tasting her, pleasing her. 

A shaky breath escaped him. Chris brought a hand to his crotch, trying to stay silent as he adjusted himself. His cock stiffened even more at the contact, the friction sending waves of pleasure through him. Unable to stop himself, he began to stroke himself through the fabric of his pants. Slowly, not wanting to get caught. Fuck, how embarrassing would that be? But fuck…it’s been too long and it felt so good. 

Chris’s head was clouded with sinful thoughts. The sounds she would make, the way she tasted, the passion, the heat, the excitement. He knew this wasn’t the time to be thinking about those things, it was just so hard not to with her right there. He let out another shaky breath as he continued to touch himself, warmth flooding his body with each pleasurable stroke. His face was flushed with a deep red blush, thank god they had decided to watch the movie with the lights off. 

“Ma?” 

“Hmm?”

“H-Have I been a good boy t-tonight?” 

The question had her at a loss for words. It wasn’t unusual for Chris to act childish around her, everyone always joked that Matt and his girlfriend were practically co-parenting him. But it was rare that he wanted to be called a good boy, never mind refer to himself as that. However, it had been a long day of unpacking, meetings, scheduling, and creating more content for the three of them. He’s gotta be exhausted and probably doesn’t even know what the hell he’s saying. 

She continued running her fingers through his soft hair. “Yeah, you’ve been good, Chris.”

He let out a dissatisfied whine, brushing his stubbly cheek against her shoulder. It took everything in him not to bite at her soft pillowy skin. He twitched a little, his dick aching for more. Sweat began to form on his brow, the slow movement of his hand wasn’t enough anymore. He needed more, he needed so much more. 

“J-Just wanna be a good b-boy for you,” he confesses. He couldn’t help it, he needed more. He sped up his strokes; not by a lot, but enough to satisfy the uncomfortable ache. Another shaky breath passes his lips. He couldn’t think straight, all he could think about was her and how badly he needed her. “M-Mommy.”

Her eyes widened a bit, her own cheeks becoming flushed and pink. Chris didn’t pull the ‘mommy’ card very often, but it drove her absolutely insane whenever he did. Normally he liked to be in charge, he liked to call the shots, he liked being in control. 

That was clearly not the case tonight. 

“You’re such a good boy for me, Chris.” She cooed. 

The sluttiest of whimpers fell from his lips, though it was muffled against her neck. She smiled to herself when she felt his lips placing soft kisses to her skin. “M-Missed you s-so much.” His voice was unsteady, breaking a little at the end as another whine escaped him. 

Her attention was no longer on the movie still playing. How could it be under these circumstances? She looked over, her breath getting caught in her throat when she saw what Chris had been doing. His hand strained, muscles tensed, veins exposed. She watched him for a moment as he fisted at his painfully hard cock through the thick denim of his jeans. 

“Aww, did you miss me?” She asked, earning yet another whimper from Chris, his hair tickling her cheek as he buried his face impossibly closer into her neck. “You were gone for a long time, huh?” she continued, dragging her fingertips along his arm. 

Chris froze. Fuck, there was no way she didn’t know what he had been doing. A wave of humiliation and embarrassment hit him like a fucking semi truck, and he covered his crotch with his hands as an even deeper blush rose to his cheeks. “I’m so sorry-“ he barely whispered, closing his eyes tightly, begging and praying to any of the gods that he’d wake up and this all would’ve just been some really weird wet dream. 

“For?”

His cock jolted at the sound of her voice. God this was just getting worse and worse. He was digging himself a hole and every word or action was just making it harder for him to get out of it. Sorry for borderline beating off in front of you, I went six weeks without touching myself or you and my dick just couldn’t take it anymore. 

Her touch left goosebumps along his arm, his breathing became more uneven as she dragged her fingertips all the way down to his hand. “I-I didn’t mean t-to-“ 

“It’s okay, pretty boy. It’s been a while for you, huh?” She asked, applying some pressure to where he craved it the most. Chris moved his hands, granting her access to whatever she wanted from him. His breath caught in his throat as her fingertips dragged slowly over the length of his aching, throbbing cock. Yet another whimper falling from his lips. 

“I asked you a question, Christopher.”

“Y-Yes, been so long,” he whined. A wave of pleasure ran through him as her hand began to stroke him through his jeans. His hips subconsciously lifted to meet her touch, desperate for more friction, more pressure, more anything. 

“Did you go all that time without jerking off, Chris?” She asked him, a knowing smirk growing on her face as she continued to tease him. He nodded, unable to form words as she kept touching him. His brain felt cloudy, all he could think about was how good she made him feel and how badly he wanted to feel her around him. 

He didn’t have a shred of dignity left. He didn’t care either. He hasn’t felt this desperate to get off since he went through puberty. His balls ached, heavy with arousal. His cock sensitive, any movement made him shiver with pleasure.  “P-Please mommy. I’ve been s’ good. P-Please help. It hurts,” he moaned softly, kissing her neck while she toyed with him. 

“Do you want me to help you, pretty boy?” 

He nodded desperately, grinding his hips up into her hand once more. “Y-Yes, i’ve been so good, mommy. Need it s’ bad,'' he whined, nipping at her soft skin. 

She removed her hand from his crotch and Chris lifted his head out of the crook of her neck, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Did I do something wrong? Fuck, is she not into the mommy thing? Fuck, what did i do-

“Take your pants off, sweet boy. Let mommy take care of you.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His hands shook as he struggled with his belt, huffing a little in irritation that his belt was choosing NOW to be a pain in the ass. “F-Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath. 

“Easy, tiger.” 

Her soft hands rested on his, steadying him. She helped him with his belt, and once it was undone he finished unbuttoning his jeans, lifting his hips up to push them down to his knees. He leaned back against the couch, sighing in relief. His cock, now only restrained by his soft cotton boxers, pressing up against the fabric, begging to be let out. He whimpered when he felt her hand on his crotch again, hissing in a sharp inhale when he felt her thumb massaging his clothed tip. 

“Poor baby. Were you gonna wait until I realized you needed help? Or were you gonna ruin your boxers right here?” She purred, feeling the wet stain of his arousal. He let out a soft moan, her words making him lose all sense of his surroundings, his brain clouded with pleasure. She let out a quiet chuckle, removing her hand from him once more. “This isn’t gonna work if you don’t use your words, Chris.”

“F-Fuck, please ‘m sorry,” he looked over at her, his eyes full of desperation. His lip quivered as her fingers ran along his thigh. His cock twitched as her knuckles grazed his crotch, his jaw going slack as he let his eyes flutter closed. “D-Didn’t wanna bug ya, Ma. I-I’m sorry, sh-should’ve been more quiet,” he confessed. 

“Don’t be sorry, baby. I’m happy to take care of you,” She whispered, pressing delicate kisses to his face. “Don’t hide from me, tell me what you want.”

“A-Anything,” he replied, his voice wavering a little as her hand inched closer to his crotch. He pursed his lips, choking back another whine. His head fell back against the back of the couch. He looked over beside him, admiring the woman next to him. “P-Please, do whatever you want, I need it so bad, mommy,” he breathed out, their eyes locking as he spoke. “Saved it all for you, mommy. It was so hard b-but i wanted t-to be a good boy for you,” he whispered, a surprised moan interrupting him as he felt her hand beginning to stroke him through his boxers once more. “F-Fuck.”

She smiled, watching the way his face scrunched up as she gave him the friction he was begging for. She leaned closer to him, still pleasing him as she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Oh Chris, you’re such a good boy for mommy, hmm?” She purred, to which he replied back with a whimper, the word ‘please’ incessantly falling from his lips. She chuckled, kissing his cheek again. “So polite. How can I say no to that?” 

“C-Can I kiss you?”

She laughed softly at his question. He knew he didn’t have to ask in moments like this, but he always did anyway. Although he loved the time he got to have with her, she wasn’t his and he knew that. The guilt would eat him alive if he did anything during these moments to make her uncomfortable. 

“You know you don’t have t-“

“Please?”

Her free hand gently touched his cheek and he looked up at her, his eyes full of dumb bliss and desperation. She leaned in, her nose gently brushing against Chris’s, her lips ghosting over his. “You wanna kiss me, pretty boy?” She whispered, lips brushing ever so delicately against his as she spoke. 

“God yes,” he replied. “Havent k-kissed you in s’ long.”

“I know, baby. It’s been too long,” she agreed, though she still didn’t kiss him. She traced his bottom lip with her thumb, her other hand still massaging his stiff aching cock. 

“Fuck, I-I’m fuckin’ begging you,” he panted softly, his hot breath fanning against her skin. A bead of sweat rolled down from his temple. “Please, I miss your lips, m-mommy.”

That was enough for her to close the gap between them, pressing her lips to his. Chris wanted to be good, he wanted to let her have control, but it had been too fucking long and he was desperate to be as close to her as possible. He kissed her back hungrily, his cock twitching at the sound she made. Something mixed between a whimper and a gasp. It drove him absolutely fucking crazy and he was dying to hear it again. Chris let his hands rest on her thighs, slowly trailing up to her waist. 

She was surprised by his sudden confidence. She always loved whenever Chris took control. But tonight was different, and he needed to be fully aware of that. Just as his hands had made it up to her breasts, she pulled her hand away from his crotch, a frustrated whine escaping him. She brought her hand up to his neck, wrapping her fingers around his throat. His cock jolted, Chris could feel the precum drooling onto his pelvis. He panted as she pulled away from the kiss, her lips ever so lightly brushing against his. She was so close but so far at the same time, and every time he attempted to close that gap between them again, she pulled away further. “Tsk tsk, what happened to being mommy’s good boy, hmm?” 

He gulped, heavy uneven breaths being all he could get out for a solid twenty seconds. “F-Fuck, ‘m sorry Ma, i just got carried away,” he panted. “J-Jus’ missed your lips s’ much.”

“Naughty boys don’t get rewards, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, p-please,” he choked out, eyes glossing over as the ache began to grow unbearable. “Please ‘m sorry, Ma. I-I’ve been so good, d-didn't touch m-myself all that time. I-I just got excited, ‘m sorry. F-Fuck, please d-dont stop. I’ll be a good boy, I'll be good-“ he rambled on, pleas continuing to spill from his lips, desperate for her to do anything. Her hand around his neck tightened, just the tiniest bit, and Chris let out possibly the filthiest sound she had ever heard from him. 

She smiled. She was in control again. She hooked her leg over his lap, straddling his waist, hovering over him. “You like when mommy does that, hmm?” she cooed, earning a whimper from him in response. 

He couldn’t focus on a damn thing. When she straddled him his cock throbbed, and he prayed that she would sink just a little lower, just so he could feel her on his lap. Just so he could feel her roll her hips against his. Just so he could feel the outline of her pussy through the thin fabric of the plaid pajama bottoms rubbing against his aching erection. He spent so many nights thinking about her on top of him, missing the feeling of burying himself deep in her tight, wet cunt. Nothing could satisfy him anymore, only her. 

“God i’m fuckin begging ya, ma. I’ll do anything, p-please just- fuck,” he moaned, his eyes fluttering shut as she tightened her grip around his neck once more, his brain feeling foggy, his face growing hotter. “Anything you want, mommy. P-Please, I’ll be a good boy. Your good boy. J-Just wanna be good for you, mommy. I-I-I wanna be good.”

“Oh but you are, sweet boy,” she purred in his ear, watching in amusement as he shivered at her words. She lowered her hips, seating herself onto his lap. His breath hitched, trembling hands grasping her waist. She bit her lip, he was painfully hard. Even through the fabric between them, she could feel the throbbing. His hips lifted to meet hers, desperate for more. “You really missed me huh?” She hummed. 

“You have no fucking idea.”

“Give me an idea then,” she tested. 

“Couldn’t get you outta my fuckin’ head, Mama.” He whispered, opening his eyes to look up at her. “Missed you so much. Your pretty face ‘n your sweet lips. You’re beautiful tits ‘n how you look when I play with your nips when you’re all stoned ‘n fucked out,” he spoke, his voice raspy, his accent growing thicker with each confession. “Couldn’t get your pretty pussy outta my head all fucking month. Every fuckin’ day, all day-“ he was cut off by her hips rolling against his yet again, pleasure running through him. 

“So hard for me already, I’ve barely even touched you,” she teased, grinding against him yet again. 

He felt that all too familiar feeling in his stomach, his hands holding her still on his lap. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum if y-you keep going,” he mumbled, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. 

“Isn’t that what you want, sweet boy?” 

He hummed, pursing his lips. His eyes were hooded as he looked at the beautiful girl on top of him. “S-So bad,” he nodded. 

“Let me take care of you then, baby.”

“Wanna…last…” he breathed out, head falling back again as she rolled her hips against his. His hips bucked up, the unexpected reaction causing her to let out a high whimper. “D-Don’t want it t’ be over yet,” he continued, though that was proving to be difficult as he could feel his orgasm inching closer and closer. 

Chris felt her move closer to him, his face heating up even more as she pressed kisses to his cheek, eventually her lips ghosting over his ear. She was so close, her perfume swirled around him, his brain getting clouded with the scent. “Oh we’re not even close to being finished, pretty boy,” she giggled, dragging her hands slowly down Chris’s chest. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on.” 

He choked out a soft cry, warmth flooding his body. He brought his hand down to his crotch, stroking himself through his boxers to ride himself through his orgasm. His lips parted, soft pants escaping him. “F-Fuck, mommy,” he whined, a high pitched moan following his words as he reached his high. His hips subconsciously bucked up, his load shooting into the fabric of his boxers, his lower abdomen slick with his cum. 

She continued pressing gentle kisses to his face. “That’s it, such a good boy. You earned this, pretty boy. You did so good for me,” she praised him, talking him through his first orgasm of the evening. She trailed kisses down to his lips, smiling to herself as he tried to catch his breath. “That’s it, baby. Let mommy take care of you tonight.”

-------------------

a/n: i already have three other parts lined up ready to go for this story

[therapycat21]

Oh Baby

Requested: Yes/No

Request:

Hi, can you please do one about the Travis and Taylor rumors going around. Maybe like your Taylor’s sister dating Travis secretly for awhile now and your pregnant. And like the Taylor concert he went to he was like there with you and the football that Taylor went to she was like there with you. And it all comes out that he’s with you and not Taylor and they find out your pregnant and all and are so shocked and didn’t see it coming. Like if that makes sense 🙂

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Me and Travis have been together for a five years now and have been in a private relationship due to the past of both of our relationships. Since we decided to be private it has been nothing but amazing .We had met from mutual friends of my younger sister Taylor.

   One of her backup dancers had known Travis from meeting him at the Super Bowl where he danced for Rihanna. 

  Travis and I officially met at the Superbowl party after they won and we’ve been together. Since then we had gotten a house together, married, and had a few fur babies but now as we stare at the screen in the dim room and the nurse moving the doppler around, we finally see our baby, we’ve been coming here for six months now and looking at our baby never gets old. We still have our gender reveal to do in the next few weeks but for now, we have to wait. 

After wiping the gel off my stomach, I see Travis’s phone lighting up on the counter “Hey babe? Your phone’s going off” I tell him, the tight grasp he has on my hand is gone as he opens the phone screen, I continue to wipe the gel off and get myself together so we can leave when Travis lets a giant frustrated sigh resonate throughout the room. I look at him to see frustration masking his face “Baby what’s wrong?” I ask. He looks up from his screen before turning the phone towards me, I take the phone and start reading the news article. There have been many news articles about Travis potentially dating someone new every week at this point I'm used to it.

I look back up at him seeing the serious look on his face. “What do you wanna do about it?” I ask him, not knowing how to go about this, he rubs his forehead “I wanna be done hiding you and the baby. I know It’s a lot to ask of you but I just want the world to know I’m with you and I’m happy” he tells me. 

I give him a once over before nodding “How about this, we don’t say anything yet, but we go out together and just do what we usually do at home, outside, and once it starts being noticed, then we’ll find a way to confirm it, is that okay?” I ask him, making up a plan so it’s easier. He smiles nodding his head at the plan “Alright, let’s do that” he gives me a chaste kiss before we leave the private room and start to head home, since this is a private doctor's office, no one knows we’re here, we get in the car and start driving home  “how about tonight? We can start by going to Taylor's concert” I suggest as we pull up to the house. I look over and see him nod his head in response “Yeah let's do that, Let's get in cause we don’t have that much time before the concert.” He tells me.

We both got ready, and we both decided to wear white. We arrive at the stadium and are escorted to where Taylor is in the back, As I see her she quickly walks over to me, pulling me into a hug being cautious of my stomach, she lets go before softly rubbing my belly “Oh my god, I feel like you were 2 months like last week and now you're almost done” she tells me before pulling me into another hug before turning to acknowledge Travis “oh my god, how are you? How’s everything?” she asks him. He hugged her back briefly before talking a bit about what was going on. 

We were interrupted as one of the managers came over to tell us it was time to head to our seats and for Taylor to get in position for the concert. We all hug one last time before Travis and I head to our family balcony seats.

     3 Hours Later

 After a few hours of enjoying Taylor’s set, I noticed some fans pointing their phones to wear Travis and I were sitting, I nudged him a bit to let him know, and I saw him look down, acknowledging them and giving some a few waves as they capture pictures of him, if only we knew what everyone would be thinking by noon tomorrow. 

After hanging with Taylor for a bit at her after party we decided to head home so I could rest after being on my feet for a long time. Me and Travis are freshly showered and lounging on the couch watching Marvel before we head to bed for the night.

     The Next Morning

The pressure on my bladder is what wakes me up from my comfortable sleep, I try to roll out of bed not even bothering to check my phone, and head to the bathroom to get ready for the morning, I can still hear Travis snoring as I hear my phone chime with a notification, I walk over to my nightstand grabbing my phone, opening it to see a crap ton of messages from Taylor and a few of mine and Travis friends. Opening the first message I see from Taylor

        “Did you see this? I don’t wanna say anything unless you want me to cause I don’t want to add any more stress on you, no one knows me and Henry are together yet but I  still need to talk to him about that, I love you please let me know, ”

   I clicked on the link she sent, seeing it's an article from ENews.

 I kind of expected this to happen considering I don’t really like to be in the spotlight, even as Taylor’s older sister I never really strived for that, Now don’t get me wrong, almost all of Taylor’s fans know of me from over the years. 

  I went to Travis's side of the bed and gently shook him awake  “What? What's going on?” He asks groggily, I turn the phone screen and watch him as he reads the article title, he shakes his head before turning to sit up “What the hell?” is all he responds with while reading the article. He hands the phone back to me before picking up and checking his phone. I continue going through the messages from friends when I get sent another article, It is dated back to when when me, Taylor and our mom went to one of Travis’s games last week, and of course it is titled almost the same, with the public thinking they’re dating. Broken out of my thoughts, Travis slams his phone down on the nightstand, I put my phone down while walking over to him, I cradle his head into my chest, rubbing his head “I wanna be done with this” Is all he says to me.

   I continue rubbing his head before he kisses me, getting up to use the bathroom. While he is in the bathroom, I contemplate, I already know what he wants to do but I know he isn't doing it because of my hesitation with it becoming more public. I decide I’m done being scared and hiding myself. 

I pick up my phone before opening Instagram and uploading a picture we had taken recently at our maternity shoot and without a second thought I posted it. I quickly shut my phone, a little nervous to even look at it. I waddle into the bathroom where Travis is standing at the sink brushing his teeth. He looks at me in question, seeing the nervous look on my face. He quickly finishes his teeth “Are you alright?” he asks I open my phone screen and quickly turn it towards him. As he checks the post, I am filled with nerves but they quickly diminish as a giant smile breaks out on his face.

Putting the phone down he pulls me into a tight hug as best as he can, he lets go running out of the room, I peek out, waddling over to see him opening his phone and making his own post.

After he posted the picture, he pulled me towards him with his head leveled with mine as he was sitting on the bed, He pulled me into a soft kiss “Thank you, I know how hard it was to do that” he tells me smiling softly. I chuckle rubbing the side of his beard “It was nerve-wracking no doubt but other than that, it wasn’t that hard” I reassure him. We’re both broken out of our silent bubble, simultaneously getting a notification chime, we both open our phone screens to see we were tagged in a Twitter post by Taylor Letting everyone know that she is indeed dating someone named Henry and how Travis is only and will only ever be her brother-in-law.

Travis still holding me by my waist pulls my face to him, kissing me softly, nudging his nose against mine, and softly rubbing the bump "I love you so much" he tells me softly, I smile "I love you too baby" I tell him pulling him in for another kiss.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

For some reason, I feel like this sucks but It's whatever, I may rewrite it but for now, here it is,,,enjoy!!

Much Love

TC21

[saltofmercury]

Pairing: könig x f!reader

Plot: König comes back from a mission.

A/N: just the cozy vibes I wanted to write about. We agreed we liked soft König so I had to dive deep into the mush.

“I missed you”

König had just come back from a mission. A whole 3 months away from him. You didn’t anticipate the days getting longer and waiting every hour just to hear from him. You missed him and had a hard time adjusting. As soon as he had told you he was home, you wanted to jump in your car and race over—but instead, you were patiently waiting for him to invite you over.

He had texted you saying he needed a few days to adjust back to normalcy. Which you understood. You couldn’t imagine taking on a job so vicious and scary like he did.

When he had told you what he did, the conversation was calculated but explained casually:

“I’m a contracted…a contracted mercenary,” he said. He looked over at you quickly, and bit the inside of his cheek under the mask he had on. His heart raced, but he wanted to be as honest as he could without scaring you.

He quickly added:

“I-I-I’m in charge of the jobs I get to seek out and help with.” He quickly explained one of his missions — taking out a terrorist group involving human trafficking.

He continued to ramble on, scared that you take it the wrong way. Maybe mercenary was too harsh of a word. He saw himself as a mercenary. He was in the military but he was getting paid to kill people.

You sat there so confused, he could see how your eyebrows furrowed, your eyes set wide, but nodded your head.

You spoke—

“So you kill… bad people?”

He sighed, had closed his eyes and mumbled quietly, “yes and I know it sounds ten times as awful but I don’t want you to be scared because I would never hurt you.”

You brought your hands to his face and kissed his nose, his forehead— his entire face.

“I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” You reassured him. “I’m not scared I’m just trying to understand.”

He had kept in contact with you sporadically at first, messaging you throughout the week. You had received a message on Tuesday almost a week after he left, but he had responded through an email on Friday, then messaged you again six weeks later confirming his safety and return date.

Now you just waited patiently for him to reset and need your company.

*

König was exhausted. It was a whole 3 months away from you and a whole 85 days in action. He was responding to others on his team, being near others, taking orders from others, and engaging with others.

He just wanted to see you. Have the company of someone who wasn’t scared of him or needed him to knock down the door where he would be greeted by the screams and footsteps of men. He wanted to have his guard down and not look around every second hoping he missed someone.

When he finally felt he was okay, back to his own safe reality, he messaged you to come over and spend the night.

You were excited. Was he really asking you to spend the night? You packed an overnight bag and rushed over to his house.

He was waiting outside, leaning against his door frame with his hands crossed against his chest. He eyed you from the doorway. You could see he was dressed in his all black attire but he had on something different, a hooded mask. with holes for his eyes. This was different. You ran from the driveway and leaped into his arms.

“Mmmm” you moaned into his neck, pulled up the hem of the mask slightly and nuzzled in and kissed him up his neck.

“I missed you so much.”

He was still holding you up, one of his arms holding your bottom and the other arm across your back, his hand tangled into your hair as he made his way into your neck.

He sighed there and mumbled

“It was too long —too long away from you.”

He walked backward toward the house and closed the door with his foot. He walked over to the couch still holding you and plopping down softly, not letting go.

You appeared from under his hooded mask.

“Hi baby” you rubbed his chest with your hands as you nuzzled his clothed nose against your bare one.

You pulled back and observed him.

“This is new.” You rubbed the black mask over his face with your hands.

His eyes widened, knowing he was probably blushing underneath, you smiled.

“I didn’t have time to wash my turtlenecks.” He used as an excuse.

You laughed and pouted “but now I can’t see when you blush or when your ears turn red”

It was like he was hiding more of himself and you two had been carefully and patiently peeling back the hidden layers of him.

He buried himself in your chest and whispered

“I’m sorry”

You rubbed his neck and reassured him

“It’s okay, whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

You kind of expected this. As König took on missions and left for longer periods of time, he came back more quiet than he usually was. He was never one for many words, preferring to hear you talk, but after missions, it's like he coward away from reality and sunk into being unnoticeable, he needed to recharge a lot of the times.

He looked up at you and kissed your chin.

You two sat on the couch for a while just him holding you and rubbing you as you caught him up about everything he missed in the last 3 months. You told him about the 3 months of work you had to endure. It wasn’t anything compared to what he had to do but he sat there nodding his head and affirming everything that had happened while he was gone, all while rubbing your back, your neck, and legs on top of him.

As you were in the middle of telling him how the new project you start a month ago had tensed you up so much that you ended up buying a neck warmer/pillow with a built in massager,

He spoke softly interrupting you,

“Do you want to get in my jacuzzi?”

You looked at him, suddenly nervous,

“Will you be joining me?”

*

You were stunned. It felt like he never used his pool or jacuzzi in his own home. It could be because he was never home, but to you it seemed as if it was more of an aesthetic for him, not something he had built in his home for pleasure.

As he adjusted the temperature on his phone and went outside to start it up, you had run back out to the car hoping you had packed a bathing suit.

You kept denying the back of your mind telling you “you didn’t pack for this.”

You came back inside and he led you his personal bathroom.

You turned to him sheepishly

“I don’t have a bathing suit.”

He looked at you, walked over to his dresser, and picked up one of his surfing tops.

“Would you feel comfortable in this?”

The sight made you giggle a little bit. A huge top that would without a doubt cover you entirely. And because only he would have a surfing top because it covers his body.

You nodded.

“But I don’t have any bottoms…”

“If you are comfortable, you can just get in with your underwear. I’ll do the same.” he said

He walked out letting you know he would be getting ready in his guest bathroom.

You tied up the enormous top on you as best as you could, stripped off your pants, tied up your hair, and walked out.

He was already waiting for you, towels set aside for you both, sitting on the edge of the jacuzzi with his legs in, his back turned to you. He had on another one his surf tops on, boxers on, and his hooded mask on top.

You walked up nervously.

As if he already knew, he spoke softly:

“Come on in, I won’t watch you.”

König was always a step ahead of your bashfulness or nervousness. Only he was one to truly understand.

He looks away as you step in holding onto the rail, dipped yourself in, and settled yourself in between his legs.

The water bubbled around you. It was warm and settling against your neck., shoulders, and body.

His arms came around your shoulders and he began kneading them.

“Is this okay?” He says gently.

Eyes closed, you nodded.

As you rubbed his shins, you noticed the stretch marks on the back of his knees. Red, lightning scars running vertically on the back and sides of his knees. It was one the first times you saw any part of his body. You settled your head in between his legs, laying on his right thigh, and slowly continued to rub one leg now.

You felt like drifting off to sleep with the way he was gently massaging you and petting your hair.

He speaks softly,

“If I had known how much I would miss you, I wouldn’t have reported to that job.”

A small mumble and whisper to himself

“At least I have you again.”

It struck a nerve in your heart. You missed him terribly and now that he was back you felt complete again. The relationship you two built was tough work and slowly, but surely, the patience and effort you had reaped and sowed were being rewarded. This relationship was blossoming.

But in the back of your mind, it started to get cloudy, worried, and most of all, scared.

You stood up and faced him.

His face was blocked by his mask, but you can see his eyes are curious by why you had stood up.

You pull up the hem of the mask and he stops your hands. You gently let go. He pulls up the mask just enough to show his lips to you. He pulls you in and locks lips with yours. You wrap your arms around him.

The kiss is soft and slow, followed by smaller pecks on your lips.

He releases you, and you’re left breathless.

You bury yourself into his neck, blushing.

“Now I’m not going to want to let you go.”

He hugs you, softly whispering

“You won’t have to baby, not for a while.”

[solarsturniolo]

Too Damn Long // C.S. pt1

by 💋Natalie💋

summary: chris hasn't jerked off in six weeks and desperately wants to get off

tags: @oversturn @flowerxbunnie @mattsd0ll please reblog and share ☺️🫶🏻

warnings: SMUT / mommy kink / sharing is caring :) / mentions of drugs and smoking / minors dni

DISCLAIMER: these stories are fictional :) I do not actually legitimately think matt and chris would share a partner

text - reader

text - chris sturniolo

text - matt sturniolo

Word Count: 4,318

It had been far too long for Chris’s liking. Six weeks and two days too long, to be exact. Of course he had enjoyed his time on tour with his brothers, he loved getting to travel the country and make all of these wonderful memories with the people he loved the most. The excitement had died down after the first few days, though. Not that he wasn’t enjoying his time or ungrateful for anything at all, he was just tired and missed the comforts of being at home. The car and late night rides with his brothers, his bathroom where he could take showers for as long as he wanted, his bedroom, his bed…he craved it. Being away from home for too long drained him of all of his energy. 

Being back home was like a breath of fresh air. But being back in LA after their month and a half of touring didn’t eliminate anything in their busy work schedules. From recording videos, to designing merch, to meetings and sponsorships, the boys continued to stay booked and busy. 

“I’ll be back in a few hours.” 

Chris looked up from his phone as Matt trudged over to the couch, leaning down to be eye-level with his girlfriend. She looked up from her phone as well, a smile finding its way onto her face when she made eye contact with Matt. “Okay, can you get me a couple things while you’re out?” She asks, earning an eye roll from him in response. His hands rest on the couch on either side of her, his weight being shifted as he leans closer to her and presses a soft kiss to her lips. 

“So needy. Text me a list,” he tells her. He looks over at his brother for a moment. “You need anything?”

Chris went to speak, but was cut off before he could even start. 

“Pepsi, yeah yeah I know. Is there anything you NEED?”

Chris shrugged, leaning back and hooking an arm over the back of the couch as his gaze switched back down to his phone. “If I think of anything I'll let you know.”

Matt rolled his eyes again. A swift smack to his chest and his attention was back on the beauty in front of him. “Be nice,” she warned. “You’ve been at each other's throats all day,” she reminds him in a much more hushed tone. 

“This is me being nice-“

“Matt-“

“I’m being for real,” he laughs. 

“Matthew Bernard.” 

“Okay, fine.”

Chris pretended like he hadn’t heard what she said, he bit the inside of his cheek to hold back the smirk that threatened to blow his cover. “Yeah, be nice,” he parroted, his gaze still locked on his phone. Nobody ever said anything about it, but they all knew who wore the pants in that relationship. Matt would crawl on hot coals if she told him to. Chris always teased him and gave him shit about being a simp. He used that facade to hide the fact that he would do the same. 

Matt shot Chris a warning look, not in the mood to deal with his childish antics tonight. She rested her fingertips on Matt’s cheek, gently turning his head to face her once again. She leaned toward him, pressing a delicate lingering kiss to his lips. Matt caught himself from falling forward a bit when she pulled away, not wanting the kiss to be over with so soon. His girlfriend smiled at him, a soft laugh escaping her. “Go before you’re late. I’ll text you, and I’ll see you tonight.” 

Reluctantly, Matt pushed himself back to an upright position. “Fine. I’ll see you in a bit. I love you,” He states, grabbing his keys and wallet off of the coffee table. His girlfriend repeated the last statement to him, a smile creeping its way onto Matt’s face. 

Once Matt had finally left the house, Chris put his phone down on the couch and looked over at the girl sitting only a foot or two away from him. She wouldn’t agree, but Chris always thought she looked the prettiest like this; her messy hair up in a claw clip, loose hairs framing her face in long blonde waves, no makeup besides the sharp black liner that seemed to be almost engraved in her skin by how often she wore it, the comfy clothes she wore around the house when it was clear that she had nowhere to be anytime soon. 

And neither of them had anywhere to be anytime soon.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

—————————

Chris wanted to be invested in the movie, he really did. But it was proving to be much more difficult than he thought it would. The smell of her perfume was driving him wild, he wanted nothing more than to just bury his face into her neck and suffocate himself in the sweet velvety scent. How he missed her soft skin against him and her gentle touch, the sound of her voice purring his name when she spoke to him. It had been so long since the last time, too long. 

Normally he could control himself and keep his composure, normally he would be the one taking care of her whenever Matt was out of the house. But Chris had needs too, and those needs hadn’t been met in six weeks, two days, and eighteen hours. 

The sheer glimpse of her nipples through her shirt had Chris’s heart lodged in his throat. The blood rushed to his cheeks, his face feeling hot. He couldn’t help but stare at her chest as his mind flooded with many thoughts, all of which would grant him a one way ticket to hell.

He scooted closer to her, resting his head on her shoulder. She smiled, wrapping her arm around his shoulders to pull him in closer. Chris obliged, leaning into her and nestling his face into the crook of her neck. Every inhale had him floating in a pool of rose petals and strawberries, he could drown himself in the scent. Her shoulder was cold, and Chris prayed that she couldn’t feel how hot his cheek was against her skin. The bridge of his nose brushed against her neck, his lips ghosting over her soft, pale skin. The blood rushed straight to his cock as he thought about biting and sucking marks all over her, the sounds she might make if he found a particularly sensitive spot. 

“What has gotten into you tonight?” She asks, running her fingers delicately through Chris’s hair, her nails gently dragging along his scalp. A shiver ran down his spine, his cock twitched in his pants, he felt his jeans beginning to grow tighter at the crotch. ‘Six weeks and almost three days is what’s gotten into me,’ he thought to himself. 

What the fuck do I say? I haven’t jerked off in over a month? I ruined three pairs of boxers in my sleep because of the dreams I had of you? I’d get bricked if I heard you on the phone with Matt? I’d meet hundreds of people and the whole time I would only be thinking about you and how I'd kill to bury myself in you? 

Chris opted on keeping his mouth shut and just nudged her with his nose again. He smiled to himself when he heard her laugh, his eyes subconsciously fluttering closed as she continued to play with his hair. 

The tightness of his pants began to grow uncomfortable. His face scrunched up at the much too familiar ache, his breathing growing heavier as he did everything in his power to not touch himself right then and there. The sweet temptation of grinding his crotch up into the palm of his hand was taunting his mind, his cock throbbing, begging for any kind of friction. He buried his face deeper, trying so hard to ignore what he was feeling. 

“Chris?” 

Oh her voice was like honey, and the sound of his name rolling off her tongue made his cock twitch once more. He loved when she said his name. Especially when he had himself buried deep inside of her. Nothing in the world sounded sweeter to him than his name falling blissfully from her lips while balls deep in her. 

Oh he missed that. Nothing satisfied him more than his brother’s girlfriend’s tight pussy. Just the thought of her pretty, drooling pussy on display for him made his dick ache. How something could be so slick and so tight at the same time, he had no idea. His cotton boxers became dampened by the precum leaking through the fabric. He spent so many nights dreaming of her thighs hooked over his shoulders, the bridge of his nose buried in her heat. Teasing her, tasting her, pleasing her. 

A shaky breath escaped him. Chris brought a hand to his crotch, trying to stay silent as he adjusted himself. His cock stiffened even more at the contact, the friction sending waves of pleasure through him. Unable to stop himself, he began to stroke himself through the fabric of his pants. Slowly, not wanting to get caught. Fuck, how embarrassing would that be? But fuck…it’s been too long and it felt so good. 

Chris’s head was clouded with sinful thoughts. The sounds she would make, the way she tasted, the passion, the heat, the excitement. He knew this wasn’t the time to be thinking about those things, it was just so hard not to with her right there. He let out another shaky breath as he continued to touch himself, warmth flooding his body with each pleasurable stroke. His face was flushed with a deep red blush, thank god they had decided to watch the movie with the lights off. 

“Ma?” 

“Hmm?”

“H-Have I been a good boy t-tonight?” 

The question had her at a loss for words. It wasn’t unusual for Chris to act childish around her, everyone always joked that Matt and his girlfriend were practically co-parenting him. But it was rare that he wanted to be called a good boy, never mind refer to himself as that. However, it had been a long day of unpacking, meetings, scheduling, and creating more content for the three of them. He’s gotta be exhausted and probably doesn’t even know what the hell he’s saying. 

She continued running her fingers through his soft hair. “Yeah, you’ve been good, Chris.”

He let out a dissatisfied whine, brushing his stubbly cheek against her shoulder. It took everything in him not to bite at her soft pillowy skin. He twitched a little, his dick aching for more. Sweat began to form on his brow, the slow movement of his hand wasn’t enough anymore. He needed more, he needed so much more. 

“J-Just wanna be a good b-boy for you,” he confesses. He couldn’t help it, he needed more. He sped up his strokes; not by a lot, but enough to satisfy the uncomfortable ache. Another shaky breath passes his lips. He couldn’t think straight, all he could think about was her and how badly he needed her. “M-Mommy.”

Her eyes widened a bit, her own cheeks becoming flushed and pink. Chris didn’t pull the ‘mommy’ card very often, but it drove her absolutely insane whenever he did. Normally he liked to be in charge, he liked to call the shots, he liked being in control. 

That was clearly not the case tonight. 

“You’re such a good boy for me, Chris.” She cooed. 

The sluttiest of whimpers fell from his lips, though it was muffled against her neck. She smiled to herself when she felt his lips placing soft kisses to her skin. “M-Missed you s-so much.” His voice was unsteady, breaking a little at the end as another whine escaped him. 

Her attention was no longer on the movie still playing. How could it be under these circumstances? She looked over, her breath getting caught in her throat when she saw what Chris had been doing. His hand strained, muscles tensed, veins exposed. She watched him for a moment as he fisted at his painfully hard cock through the thick denim of his jeans. 

“Aww, did you miss me?” She asked, earning yet another whimper from Chris, his hair tickling her cheek as he buried his face impossibly closer into her neck. “You were gone for a long time, huh?” she continued, dragging her fingertips along his arm. 

Chris froze. Fuck, there was no way she didn’t know what he had been doing. A wave of humiliation and embarrassment hit him like a fucking semi truck, and he covered his crotch with his hands as an even deeper blush rose to his cheeks. “I’m so sorry-“ he barely whispered, closing his eyes tightly, begging and praying to any of the gods that he’d wake up and this all would’ve just been some really weird wet dream. 

“For?”

His cock jolted at the sound of her voice. God this was just getting worse and worse. He was digging himself a hole and every word or action was just making it harder for him to get out of it. Sorry for borderline beating off in front of you, I went six weeks without touching myself or you and my dick just couldn’t take it anymore. 

Her touch left goosebumps along his arm, his breathing became more uneven as she dragged her fingertips all the way down to his hand. “I-I didn’t mean t-to-“ 

“It’s okay, pretty boy. It’s been a while for you, huh?” She asked, applying some pressure to where he craved it the most. Chris moved his hands, granting her access to whatever she wanted from him. His breath caught in his throat as her fingertips dragged slowly over the length of his aching, throbbing cock. Yet another whimper falling from his lips. 

“I asked you a question, Christopher.”

“Y-Yes, been so long,” he whined. A wave of pleasure ran through him as her hand began to stroke him through his jeans. His hips subconsciously lifted to meet her touch, desperate for more friction, more pressure, more anything. 

“Did you go all that time without jerking off, Chris?” She asked him, a knowing smirk growing on her face as she continued to tease him. He nodded, unable to form words as she kept touching him. His brain felt cloudy, all he could think about was how good she made him feel and how badly he wanted to feel her around him. 

He didn’t have a shred of dignity left. He didn’t care either. He hasn’t felt this desperate to get off since he went through puberty. His balls ached, heavy with arousal. His cock sensitive, any movement made him shiver with pleasure.  “P-Please mommy. I’ve been s’ good. P-Please help. It hurts,” he moaned softly, kissing her neck while she toyed with him. 

“Do you want me to help you, pretty boy?” 

He nodded desperately, grinding his hips up into her hand once more. “Y-Yes, i’ve been so good, mommy. Need it s’ bad,'' he whined, nipping at her soft skin. 

She removed her hand from his crotch and Chris lifted his head out of the crook of her neck, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Did I do something wrong? Fuck, is she not into the mommy thing? Fuck, what did i do-

“Take your pants off, sweet boy. Let mommy take care of you.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His hands shook as he struggled with his belt, huffing a little in irritation that his belt was choosing NOW to be a pain in the ass. “F-Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath. 

“Easy, tiger.” 

Her soft hands rested on his, steadying him. She helped him with his belt, and once it was undone he finished unbuttoning his jeans, lifting his hips up to push them down to his knees. He leaned back against the couch, sighing in relief. His cock, now only restrained by his soft cotton boxers, pressing up against the fabric, begging to be let out. He whimpered when he felt her hand on his crotch again, hissing in a sharp inhale when he felt her thumb massaging his clothed tip. 

“Poor baby. Were you gonna wait until I realized you needed help? Or were you gonna ruin your boxers right here?” She purred, feeling the wet stain of his arousal. He let out a soft moan, her words making him lose all sense of his surroundings, his brain clouded with pleasure. She let out a quiet chuckle, removing her hand from him once more. “This isn’t gonna work if you don’t use your words, Chris.”

“F-Fuck, please ‘m sorry,” he looked over at her, his eyes full of desperation. His lip quivered as her fingers ran along his thigh. His cock twitched as her knuckles grazed his crotch, his jaw going slack as he let his eyes flutter closed. “D-Didn’t wanna bug ya, Ma. I-I’m sorry, sh-should’ve been more quiet,” he confessed. 

“Don’t be sorry, baby. I’m happy to take care of you,” She whispered, pressing delicate kisses to his face. “Don’t hide from me, tell me what you want.”

“A-Anything,” he replied, his voice wavering a little as her hand inched closer to his crotch. He pursed his lips, choking back another whine. His head fell back against the back of the couch. He looked over beside him, admiring the woman next to him. “P-Please, do whatever you want, I need it so bad, mommy,” he breathed out, their eyes locking as he spoke. “Saved it all for you, mommy. It was so hard b-but i wanted t-to be a good boy for you,” he whispered, a surprised moan interrupting him as he felt her hand beginning to stroke him through his boxers once more. “F-Fuck.”

She smiled, watching the way his face scrunched up as she gave him the friction he was begging for. She leaned closer to him, still pleasing him as she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Oh Chris, you’re such a good boy for mommy, hmm?” She purred, to which he replied back with a whimper, the word ‘please’ incessantly falling from his lips. She chuckled, kissing his cheek again. “So polite. How can I say no to that?” 

“C-Can I kiss you?”

She laughed softly at his question. He knew he didn’t have to ask in moments like this, but he always did anyway. Although he loved the time he got to have with her, she wasn’t his and he knew that. The guilt would eat him alive if he did anything during these moments to make her uncomfortable. 

“You know you don’t have t-“

“Please?”

Her free hand gently touched his cheek and he looked up at her, his eyes full of dumb bliss and desperation. She leaned in, her nose gently brushing against Chris’s, her lips ghosting over his. “You wanna kiss me, pretty boy?” She whispered, lips brushing ever so delicately against his as she spoke. 

“God yes,” he replied. “Havent k-kissed you in s’ long.”

“I know, baby. It’s been too long,” she agreed, though she still didn’t kiss him. She traced his bottom lip with her thumb, her other hand still massaging his stiff aching cock. 

“Fuck, I-I’m fuckin’ begging you,” he panted softly, his hot breath fanning against her skin. A bead of sweat rolled down from his temple. “Please, I miss your lips, m-mommy.”

That was enough for her to close the gap between them, pressing her lips to his. Chris wanted to be good, he wanted to let her have control, but it had been too fucking long and he was desperate to be as close to her as possible. He kissed her back hungrily, his cock twitching at the sound she made. Something mixed between a whimper and a gasp. It drove him absolutely fucking crazy and he was dying to hear it again. Chris let his hands rest on her thighs, slowly trailing up to her waist. 

She was surprised by his sudden confidence. She always loved whenever Chris took control. But tonight was different, and he needed to be fully aware of that. Just as his hands had made it up to her breasts, she pulled her hand away from his crotch, a frustrated whine escaping him. She brought her hand up to his neck, wrapping her fingers around his throat. His cock jolted, Chris could feel the precum drooling onto his pelvis. He panted as she pulled away from the kiss, her lips ever so lightly brushing against his. She was so close but so far at the same time, and every time he attempted to close that gap between them again, she pulled away further. “Tsk tsk, what happened to being mommy’s good boy, hmm?” 

He gulped, heavy uneven breaths being all he could get out for a solid twenty seconds. “F-Fuck, ‘m sorry Ma, i just got carried away,” he panted. “J-Jus’ missed your lips s’ much.”

“Naughty boys don’t get rewards, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, p-please,” he choked out, eyes glossing over as the ache began to grow unbearable. “Please ‘m sorry, Ma. I-I’ve been so good, d-didn't touch m-myself all that time. I-I just got excited, ‘m sorry. F-Fuck, please d-dont stop. I’ll be a good boy, I'll be good-“ he rambled on, pleas continuing to spill from his lips, desperate for her to do anything. Her hand around his neck tightened, just the tiniest bit, and Chris let out possibly the filthiest sound she had ever heard from him. 

She smiled. She was in control again. She hooked her leg over his lap, straddling his waist, hovering over him. “You like when mommy does that, hmm?” she cooed, earning a whimper from him in response. 

He couldn’t focus on a damn thing. When she straddled him his cock throbbed, and he prayed that she would sink just a little lower, just so he could feel her on his lap. Just so he could feel her roll her hips against his. Just so he could feel the outline of her pussy through the thin fabric of the plaid pajama bottoms rubbing against his aching erection. He spent so many nights thinking about her on top of him, missing the feeling of burying himself deep in her tight, wet cunt. Nothing could satisfy him anymore, only her. 

“God i’m fuckin begging ya, ma. I’ll do anything, p-please just- fuck,” he moaned, his eyes fluttering shut as she tightened her grip around his neck once more, his brain feeling foggy, his face growing hotter. “Anything you want, mommy. P-Please, I’ll be a good boy. Your good boy. J-Just wanna be good for you, mommy. I-I-I wanna be good.”

“Oh but you are, sweet boy,” she purred in his ear, watching in amusement as he shivered at her words. She lowered her hips, seating herself onto his lap. His breath hitched, trembling hands grasping her waist. She bit her lip, he was painfully hard. Even through the fabric between them, she could feel the throbbing. His hips lifted to meet hers, desperate for more. “You really missed me huh?” She hummed. 

“You have no fucking idea.”

“Give me an idea then,” she tested. 

“Couldn’t get you outta my fuckin’ head, Mama.” He whispered, opening his eyes to look up at her. “Missed you so much. Your pretty face ‘n your sweet lips. You’re beautiful tits ‘n how you look when I play with your nips when you’re all stoned ‘n fucked out,” he spoke, his voice raspy, his accent growing thicker with each confession. “Couldn’t get your pretty pussy outta my head all fucking month. Every fuckin’ day, all day-“ he was cut off by her hips rolling against his yet again, pleasure running through him. 

“So hard for me already, I’ve barely even touched you,” she teased, grinding against him yet again. 

He felt that all too familiar feeling in his stomach, his hands holding her still on his lap. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum if y-you keep going,” he mumbled, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. 

“Isn’t that what you want, sweet boy?” 

He hummed, pursing his lips. His eyes were hooded as he looked at the beautiful girl on top of him. “S-So bad,” he nodded. 

“Let me take care of you then, baby.”

“Wanna…last…” he breathed out, head falling back again as she rolled her hips against his. His hips bucked up, the unexpected reaction causing her to let out a high whimper. “D-Don’t want it t’ be over yet,” he continued, though that was proving to be difficult as he could feel his orgasm inching closer and closer. 

Chris felt her move closer to him, his face heating up even more as she pressed kisses to his cheek, eventually her lips ghosting over his ear. She was so close, her perfume swirled around him, his brain getting clouded with the scent. “Oh we’re not even close to being finished, pretty boy,” she giggled, dragging her hands slowly down Chris’s chest. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on.” 

He choked out a soft cry, warmth flooding his body. He brought his hand down to his crotch, stroking himself through his boxers to ride himself through his orgasm. His lips parted, soft pants escaping him. “F-Fuck, mommy,” he whined, a high pitched moan following his words as he reached his high. His hips subconsciously bucked up, his load shooting into the fabric of his boxers, his lower abdomen slick with his cum. 

She continued pressing gentle kisses to his face. “That’s it, such a good boy. You earned this, pretty boy. You did so good for me,” she praised him, talking him through his first orgasm of the evening. She trailed kisses down to his lips, smiling to herself as he tried to catch his breath. “That’s it, baby. Let mommy take care of you tonight.”

--------------------------------

a/n: alrighty, here I go re-uploading! It probably won't receive as much attention as it did on the sturnioloskies account, so reblogging will really help :) thanks so much for all of the support I love every one of you

[tangents-within-tangents]

The Bad Batch as Penguins of Madagascar Quotes

Bc I’ve seen a few posts making this magnificent comparison and both of these squads are near and dear to my heart and bc I need a distraction from the s3 premiere ahhh

Tech: *mission relevant info* Hunter: Tell me something I don’t know! Tech: Without mucus your stomach would digest itself Hunter: … Hunter: Tell me something else I don’t know…something less disturbing

Hunter: (to Caleb) It's okay, kid. We're not going to hurt you Crosshair: *cocks his gun* Not true, Hunter, they did authorize lethal force

Wrecker: *absolutely decking his bros* You pillow fight like a bunch of little girls!

Crosshair: What part of "zip it" eludes you?! The "zip" or the "it"?!

Echo: I don't mind saying it, that guy vexes me. *narrows eyes* He's a vexer.

Hunter: Boys, no training tonight. It's game night! Tech: Trivia! Let's play trivia! I dominate trivia! Omega: Oh! Can we play Simon Says this week? Tech: Yes, Simon says we play TRIVIA!!

Crosshair: I find reason tedious and boring. We'll use force.

Echo: I'm sorry, boys. I sometimes resort to sarcasm when facing the unknown Tech: No doubt

Hunter: Oh I’ve seen accident prone, try Wrecker and Crosshair! With a Chandrilan lantern! And SIX BOTTLES of rocket fuel!! Tech: Worst talent show ever

Hunter: There's no such thing as too paranoid, Omega. Remember that, and forget you ever heard it!

Tech: SCIENCE! WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?!?

Omega: I have an idea! But I'm not sure how safe it is Wrecker: I like it already!

Crosshair: *while fighting* You cannot win, Hunter! I am fueled with a boiling hate! A raging fury! Hunter: And a babbling mouth! *slaps him*

Omega: No! I swore I’d never use my adorability as a weapon again, and I meant it!

Echo: Wrecker, cover Omega’s ears, I intend to use my angry words

Tech: This red line shows the frustration level of a really smart person forced to take orders from some dunder-brained boob. As you can see the frustration just keeps rising and rising and rising. I mean, why don't they put the smart guy in charge, huh? IT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE! SOMETHING HAS GOT TO GIVE, PEOPLE! AM I THE ONLY ONE SEEING THIS?!

Wrecker and Omega: *run in making incomprehensible panicked noises* Hunter: Anyone catch that? Echo: *nonchalantly interprets it exactly* The Batch: … Echo: What? I’m fluent in panic

Tech: Cool cars go faster. That's a scientific fact.

Cody, in his one episode: I believe now I know why “volunteers” ends in “tears”

Hunter: No batcher gets left behind, that’s why! Wrecker: What about Crosshair? Hunter: Okay, one batcher gets left behind Omega: and Echo? Hunter: Maybe two batchers get left behind Tech: Um… Hunter: *groan* Comparatively few batchers get left behind, okay?!

Omega: I thought you agreed this was a dangerous weapon! Wrecker: Which is the best kind! What good is a safe weapon?! Tech: He has a point

Hunter: Avert your eyes, young Omega, you’ll never be able to unsee this! Tech, recording bc that’s his freaking hobby: Don’t worry about it I’ll burn you a dvd!

Crosshair: *standing outside the Marauder* Hunter! I have brought you a hand drawn greeting card! It says “Roses are red. Posies are green. Sorry about Bracca, I was too mean. Your pal, Crosshair” :) Hunter: *walks out and shreds the card*

Hunter: Get up here. That’s an order! Tech: *salutes* Permission to defy order? Hunter: Permission denied! Tech: Then I deny your denial (sorry)

Echo: *watching Hunter and Wrecker, captured and surrounded by stormtroopers* Well this hardly seems fair Echo: *jumps in a walker and defeats them easily* Told you it wasn't fair

*Phee and Tech kiss* Omega: *eyes being covered by Hunter* awww Wrecker: Finally!

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (vi) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : y/n can only deflect her crush on matt for so long

warnings : smut, banter/cuteness, angst at the end

mickey speaks : sooooooo. yeah. enjoy! (also i imagine lucas as luka sabbat)

THIS IS PART SIX GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST PLS

“I’M kind of hungry though,” you groan as you stand in front of your open and very bare (besides two scrawny carrots and a few of andrea’s energy drinks) fridge, pouted mouth and limp wrist holding your phone to your ear.

“i’m sure you are, you always seem to be fucking hungry,” matt’s attitude laces into his comment’s comedic undertone.

“don’t be mean,” you close the fridge and begin to look through the many cabinets in your kitchen that are somehow just as bare. “how the fuck are we completely out of food?!”

“ask your fuckin- move out of the way! go! now, move!” matt’s voice cuts into a rage as his attention directs to the cars around him, who he’d debate the validity of their drivers licenses.

his loudness has you pulling your phone away from your ear to let him finish, then bring it back towards you, “hey, let’s use our inside voices when on the phone with someone…” you smile at your own joke as you dig through a never ending junk drawer for a pen.

“hmm let’s go to the grocery store more often so we’re not having our sneaky link take us to eat,” his comeback is as quick as his lane switching.

“well you sure know how to make a girl feel special,” your sarcasm spews as you begin to write out a list for a much needed grocery trip with andrea tomorrow.

“what are you hungry for?” he speaks over the chimes of his turn signal.

“i don’t know,” you mumble clearly not too focused on figuring out what you’d like to eat.

“what’re you doing right now?” he asks.

“nothing,” you say while biting your inner cheek trying to remember the specific brand of orange juice that andrea recently discovered she prefers.

“okay, i’m pulling up in like five, figure out where you wanna go.”

“please?” you question where his manners are among the frequent demands he throws at you.

“mhm, that too.” he half-asses an agreement, “bye.”

you drop your pen and respond with a quick ‘bye’ before hanging up the phone and tucking it into your purse along with your keys.

౨ৎ

matt's car smells of warm citrus and eucalyptus, in contrast to the coolness of the air he currently has blowing. you glance over to him once you're settled into the leather passenger seat, giving you a view of his soft side profile and torso covered with one of his many black hoodies (as if california temperatures weren’t currently at their highest) that fit his figure well, as he focuses on adjusting his hair in the pull down mirror.

the only light source in the car comes in the soft, off-white lighting synced to the mirror, that shines just enough for you to see his full smirk and head shake when you joke, “got someone to look good for?”

he mutters a light, “barely,” before placing the mirror back against the ceiling and changing gears smoothly. “your babysitter didn’t question you?”

you shake your head and begin to buckle your seatbelt, “no, she’s out with some coworkers for a drink. what about yours?”

“didn’t even notice i left.” he shrugs then gestures to the navigation screen that’s now dimly lit, “where do you wanna eat?” your silence speaks volumes to him, “how'd i just know you'd pull this shit? i told you to have it figured out by the time you got in the car!” he groans and looks over to you.

you try to hide a smile due to his irritance, “okay, and what if i just don’t know, matt?!” your hands turn and face the ceiling to show the genuine unsureness of your appetite.

“then, you must not be that hungry,” he shrugs.

you redirect your eyes from him to the road in front of you, “i miss when you were quietly mean, now you’re all obnoxious and loud about it.”

a smirk finds its way to matt's face as he continuously looks from you to the road until you finally look back over to him. “sorry, that was also mean. i don’t hate when you talk, even though you’re rude as fuck.”

matt laughs off the apology he wasn't even seeking from you, “jesus, i wasn't gonna cry over it.”

your stomach is weeping and begging for you to pick a place to eat at this point causing you to lean your head against the window (though you find the vibrations from the motor and awkward dips from the road make the position more uncomfortable than anything) and eye the blurs of brightly lit, primary colored signs. it becomes a little dizzying but eventually slows as matt eases on the brakes.

during the brief pause you take time recognize your surroundings more and just as matt starts to go through the intersection, a breath gets caught in your throat when you spot a small local store you remember going to with remi for lunch a few months back, “wait!”

matt slams on his brakes with a sudden look of fear in his eyes, rocking the both of you far forward then slamming you back into the seats. his face turns to frustration when you laugh a little and ask, “can we stop at that bodega right there?” while pointing out the window.

he raises a hand in view of his back windshield to apologize to the person behind him as he speeds off again and scolds you, "do you have any fucking etiquette?"

"oh wow, that’s a big word for you, matt!" you celebrate. he then takes a sharp turn into the rural parking lot, making you grip the side door as you jump along with the car.

you watch as he easily parks the car and turns off the ignition with a huff, "i doubt some convenience store snacks are gonna hold you over, but whatever."

"never doubt a small local market, this place has a bomb ass hole-in-the-wall sandwich shop and you wouldn’t even know." you defend while opening the car door.

౨ৎ

you lead matt inside while he unashamedly stares at how your hips move as you walk- your skin naturally exposed due to your low waisted lounge pants and small tank top (which makes him want to do nothing more than squeeze, lick, and kiss the area).

you greet the bored cashier the way you tend to greet anyone: as if you know them, and make your way to the back side of the store, the smell of toasted bread gaining potence in the air as you approach.

matt continues to follow as he glances around the very average looking store, with aisles of typical name-brand foods and drinks.

you stop near a bulletin board with a makeshift menu and read over each option. when matt gets closer to you, you feel the need to explain yourself as if it wasn't clear enough, "'m tryin' to figure out what i want."

he only replies with an "mhm," as he focuses on options for himself.

you both take turns separately ordering and paying for food (of course you had to tease him for making it seem as though you being hungry was such a hassle) and find a small table to sit at.

you fiddle with the table caddy, "watch. this will be the best sandwich of your life."

matt sits opposite of you, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, "better be. you had me driving crazy to get to this place."

"i said i was sorry about that!" you dramatically remind him of the apology you gave him when you two initally walked up to the store.

“order for y/n?” the same man (with a heavy east coast accent) you ordered from peeks his head out.

you send matt a smile before getting up and walking over to the window, “thank you so much, it smells amazing.” you compliment.

“‘course and, uh, we’ve got that second order ready as well if you want to take it over,” he offers.

“yeah, i’ll go ahead and take it.” you take the wrapped and acronym-labeled sandwiches in each hand, thanking him once more before beginning to walk over to the table.

“oh how sweet are you? bringin’ my sandwich to me and shit,” matt chuckles as he runs his tongue over his teeth casually.

“a ‘thank you’ would’ve been more than enough,” you take your seat again. the shuffles of wax paper wrapping and distant chimes of the bell near the entrance is the only noise surrounding both of you for your first few bites.

you pause eating to ask, “how’s your sandwich?” you direct your sandwich towards him as both of your hands are occupied in holding said sandwich.

he covers his mouth with a fist as he finishes chewing, nodding his head to give away his answer. he’s not really one to eat for flavor alone so his answer is mediocre, “yeah, it’s good. yours?” he questions while going in for another bite.

“so amazing,” you draw out and jokingly moan into your next bite.

matt’s face scrunches and he can’t wait until the food is out of his mouth to deliver his comment, “gross, just eat your food without all the effects.”

you put up your index finger so that you can swallow before replying, “you really have the nerve to say that through the shit ton of food in your mouth?”

he shrugs and gives a sarcastic smile with his cheeks bunched out and full of his sandwich.

you take a sip of your diet coke before asking, “‘kay, so what’d you do today?” you’re just generally curious and admittedly not the best at being quiet or reserved when around other people.

matt sighs, “you know…talking really takes away the point of this.”

“oh my god, answer the question. don’t be unfun, matt.”

“’m just tryin' to eat,” he laughs through his nose.

“okay, then i’ll go first but you still have to tell me about your day after,” you decide.

“fine,” matt uses a napkin to wipe his mouth a little.

“well, i woke up so fucking early today, i had to get to work by like 5:30 to start helping with an order of six cakes. luckily we prepped a lot the day before and carmen is like the best coworker to have to do that long shift with.”

“six cakes? for one order?”

“yeah, it was for a family reunion and they called about some dietary restrictions for certain cakes plus the different flavors- just shit to make our job harder. but love my job regardless, and the woman who picked them up looked so happy,” you take another sip of your drink, “but after that i went home and basically napped until you called.”

“this is the first thing you’re eating today?” he doesn’t care too much that you haven’t eaten today, rather uses it as an excuse to get you to continue eating so the you both can leave (or maybe this is just what he tells himself).

“i mean i ate some boiled eggs whenever i had down time at work, but yeah i guess.”

“and look at you, wasting your time yappin’ instead of eating. there’s truly no helping you,” he shakes his head slowly back and forth in faux disappointment.

you ignore him, “okay, your turn.” his eyebrows pinch and he takes a sip of his drink, telling you he won’t be answering if you don’t start to eat, “look! i’m eating,” you take a bite to prove yourself.

“right…uhh what did i do today?” he looks up in memory. “i tatted some guy’s face earlier, i guess that was a bit intense.”

“um, yeah that’s intense, what’d he get?!”

“the outline of peru above his cheekbone." matt circles the area on his own face, "it was actually really sentimental; he told this whole story about his mom immigrating here from peru.“

“that's so sweet. did he say why he wanted it on his face?”

matt shrugs, “he wanted to try somewhere he hasn’t before.”

you nod, “and was this your first face tat?”

“no, i’ve done a few before, just haven’t in a while.” matt leans back and scratches the back of his neck to stretch. “ever since i posted that pic of your tat i’ve been booked by all theses girls who want cartoon designs, now nick’s pissed i’m stealing his clientele since ‘it’s his specialty.’”

“well my hello kitty is precious so i can't blame them." you pause, "are you fucking these girls too?” you look at matt before you begin to giggle to yourself and take your final bite.

matt’s eyes widen and he lets a small laugh escape, “no, that kinda luck can only come so often. and how slutty would i be to hookup with all of my clients?” though he wouldn’t call you strictly a client anymore- but he doesn’t correct it since he’s unsure if the two of you are necessarily friends either.

“one: don’t hype yourself too much, two: there’s nothing wrong with being a slut, matt. you should embrace your nature.” you smile before gesturing to his last bit of sandwich and mocking, “catch up now, you’ve been doing all that talking and no eating! i'm starting to lose hope.”

౨ৎ

"matt, where the fuck are we?" you raise yourself up a little to look around. you’re parked in a large city center parking lot with few cars and dimming street lights.

“shhh, sit down.” he absentmindedly calms you, speaking in a low voice while typing on his phone. you lean back into your seat, bored enough that you opt to watching your hands rise and fall with your stomach as you breathe.

he continues tapping at the screen for the entirety of the next song, making you grow impatient and confused. is he expecting you to make the first move right now? did he bring you here to have sex? who the fuck is he texting?

you move yourself closer to him so that your elbows rest against the center console and hold your head up. "matt," you whisper.

he doesn't answer but you notice his eyebrows are furrowed and angled.

"matt," you repeat and guide your hand up his arm, firmly squeezing his shoulder.

"mm?" he looks over to you for a second, then out the windshield before his eyes fixate on his phone once more.

"what'd you bring me here for...?" your voice is laced with intentional seduction as your hand moves back down his arm to play with the slim silver bracelet hanging on the wrist of his occupied hand.

"y/n, hold on," somehow his voice is just as distracted as his eyes.

you pout, "can you, like, look at me?" you see him picking at the skin of his lip, only looking at you when your hair falls in front of his phone as you lean to press your lips to the hand you've been messing with.

he moves his hand to capture your bottom lip softly between his thumb and the side of his index finger, finally giving in with a small “yeah?”

before you get a word out a few taps hit matt’s window making both of you flinch and pull back. you’re so caught off guard and feel exposed in a way after having your face so close to matt’s lower half. you’re nervous as to why someone would randomly come to matt’s window, until matt willingly lowers it.

you move your head to the side to get a better view of the lanky man with deep caramel skin and arched dimples that pop when he speaks, “yooo, matt! what’s up?” they dap each other up through the open window.

“fucking finally,” matt sighs with a laugh.

he kisses his teeth, “look i got your shit right here. have some faith in me, brother.” he leans to grab a small bag from one of his cargo pant pockets as matt reaches for his sleek black wallet.

you try to keep yourself leveled and not ask a million questions about this whole predicament, but you’re feeling quite left out.

matt carelessly grabs the plastic bag from the guy while he continues to sift through his wallet with only one hand, before handing you the bag without even looking your way. once it’s in your hand you use the light of your phone to get a better look, noticing the unground weed in the bag. you scrunch your face and place it in your lap.

you don’t pick up on much of matt’s conversation until you’re brought up, “who’s your friend?” the guy leans further onto the car.

“no one you’d need to know,” matt shrugs, pulling out a few unscathed bills and handing them with a smile.

you squint your eyes at the insult to your existence he's implied calling you ‘no one,’ before reaching over matt with an extended hand, “hi, i’m y/n.”

he glances at matt, who’s shooting daggers into the side of your head with his eyes, then looks to you, “i’m lucas, nice to meet you.” his eyes and smile both very dopey.

“how’d you meet such a hush guy like matt?” you inquire and feel a smile forming as matt surprisingly allows you to continue this conversation.

“his brother nick does like all of my tattoos,” he pulls up his sleeve to show a collection of pieces in various styles. “next thing i know, i got three trusty customers!” he giggles and looks to matt who puts on an obvious fake smile. you turn your face to see him and feel yourself smile wider at his expense.

“yep…” matt replies.

you quickly turn back to lucas and look closer at his sleeve, “oh wow, nick is fucking talented.” matt fights from moving you back into your seat and driving off as fast as possible. “matt actually gave me one,” you lift yourself back into your seat, using matt’s thigh for support, and begin to move your shirt out of the way.

“hmm, right,” matt takes your shirt in his own hand to cover the spot once more, “we actually have somewhere to be like now.” he looks over to lucas and gives an impressively collected smile, “‘m sorry to cut it short, man. you know we gotta hang out soon.”

“for sure, i’ll have to text you," lucas nods, "and maybe i’ll see you around too, y/n. just stay pretty.” he points to you as he back away from the car. “get her home safe now, matthew.” he throws in the extra joke.

“uh huh, thanks for the smoke,” matt chuckles dryly and gives a bitter half-ass peace sign before rolling his window up. he looks over to you, with your legs sprawled in an awkward yet comfortable way and full smile on your flushed face, “fuck are you smilin’ about?”

“you brought me here for a fucking drug deal?!” you try to control the laugh in your throat.

“look you got your sandwich, i got my weed,”

“i don’t think those are com-” you mumble even though matt’s words never pause for you.

“we both were dragged somewhere, so it’s fair.” matt shrugs with pouted lips as he lifts the center console in search of the dope he’d just bought, “where’d you put it?” you then hold the bag up for him to see, but as he reaches for it you move back slightly. “you’re not funny, dude, give it.”

“come get it,” you look at the bag then over to matt’s unentertained face.

“y/n, that shit won’t work on me. we’re in my car and you don’t know the first thing about rolling.” he props his hand up expecting you to give up at this point. “stop playing.”

“why can’t you just play a little matt? you’re so worked up and mad most of the time,” your cheeks puff a little when you let out an annoyed breath.

“i wouldn’t say mad but,” matt’s eyes widen with the word in exaggeration but he knows you don’t actually want to debate over his mood so he recovers smoothly, moving his body to fully face you, “ alright, we can play, sweetheart.”

he leans closer, “how about about we play you give me my shit and then i’ll fuck you,” in reality the bag of weed is easily within snatching range, but the tension of coercing it out of you entertains matt more.

“that’s not a fun trade when you were gonna do that anyway,” the way your full lips move has matt itching to lay them against his own.

“no i wasn’t,” he whispers, and now that you’ve both now gravitated towards each other, practically at each other’s faces, you get a special view of his eyes and the way his cheeks pinch inward when he lies.

“really?”

he plays along, nodding while looking down in faux disappointment, though you can see him start to hide a giggle of some sort.

“damn. maybe i’ll have to take your phone next and get lucas to come back for me.” you sigh, and go to reach for his phone.

matt grabs your hand looks back to your devious face. “hell no, keep my friends off your roster.”

you purse your lips, “oh really? but you can do whatever you want with my-?” you’re cut off with a small kiss that grows as you reciprocate.

you’re too caught up in the proximity and heat to focus on matt’s hand that finds and takes the bag without fight. he pulls away (far too quickly) just to tease, “too easy.” he holds the bag up and stashes it in his side door. “and now you’ll have to wait until we get back to mine.”

౨ৎ

matt's beyond frustrated when he shows up to find his driveway lined with cars and general rowdiness that can be seen through the windows. you had some jokes at his expense to make as he drove off and away from his house to find the street you're currently parked on.

he's pretty silent until he eventually gets over himself due to his extreme horniness he's suppressed for longer than he expected when calling you. "well, 'm sorry my house is a bit occupied at the moment."

you face him, "no, it's fine." you unbuckle your seatbelt and move to hover over his face, placing a small kiss on his lips then pulling away, "right?"

matt raises his head to look at you, making you glance away from his eyes and down to his lips as you lick your own. and just as your tongue slips back into your mouth, matt is recapturing your lips in a needy kiss.

as the kiss deepens he takes a hold of the area where your head and neck split, holding any of your hair there with it. your tongue plays against his lips before he finally allows you to feel into his mouth a little.

you both kiss and play with each others' lips as he moves his hands to feel down your waist and tug on your waistband to urge you closer to him. you don’t listen though, instead greedily enjoying the slow movement of your lips.

matt pulls away at your disobedience and reclines his seat in one swift motion. you sigh to yourself at the loss of contact, still angled oddly over the center as you bite your bottom lip to mimic matt’s kiss.

he pats his lap and reaches for your arm, softly demanding, “c’mere.” with his physical encouragement you move your body to crawl onto him and settle easily in his lap. matt’s eyes never leave the place where your bodies meet as his hands squeeze at your hips and then your ass.

you lean down to kiss at his neck, causing your boobs to go into matt’s line of sight. he brings his hands up to give them a small squeeze before reaching into your tiny tank top to expose them fully.

you moan into his neck and lift yourself up to watch as matt swirls his tongue around your left nipple while caressing the right. “mmm,” you hum and encourage while your hands play with the hair at the nape of matt’s neck.

he lets go of one with a small pop, muttering “you’re so hot,” against the other. as your hips grind softly you can feel his dick, heavy and hard under you. he pauses his play, “you feel it, sweetheart, go ahead and do somethin’ about it.”

you moan softly and begin to grind against him. he continues to suck and fiddle with your nipples until they're sensitive and causing you to whine.

you then slowly adjust your tits back into place and crawl lower, watching your head of the wheel and watching your legs of the pedals. matt assumingly leans back and plays with the drawstring of his shorts while licking his lips, watching your every move. and finding it very fucking hot that you want to suck his dick so bad you’d sit on the rough, brushed carpet of his car.

you run your fingers up his thighs and beg with your eyes for matt to show himself to you. eventually, he purses his lips and begins to adjust his pants lower, relieving his member of anticipation.

you bite at your bottom lip subconsciously as you adjust yourself closer to him. matt keeps hold of the base, tapping himself against your closed mouth a few times, before you reveal your tongue to him. you run your mouth over him once before gathering your sticky saliva to spit softly on his tip. matt whines at the sensation and grows louder the second you take him fully into your mouth.

the way his eyebrows ruffle together and his mouth forms the most perfect ‘o’ shape is so breathtaking and drives you to continue working him in hopes that he only grows needier.

one of his hands finds the back of the headrest to grip while the other begins to move your hair for you into a harsh, makeshift ponytail. “mmm, fuck. keep goin’, baby.”

you allow all of him into your mouth, reaching the back of your throat before you pull off of him and begin to use your hand on his slick cock. “you like that?” you ask and you look so innocent and so genuinely intrigued at his answer that he can only answer in a groan. you kiss his tip in your own exchange of words with him without actually saying anything, then swirl your tongue around it as you bring him back into your wet mouth.

“yeah- just like that, mmm.” his voice is rough and strained a little as he guides your head continuously. your pace changes over the next few strokes, growing rapid and sloppier with time. matt's low moans and words of encouragement leave you feeling both desperate for his release and your own pleasure and fulfillment he'd give you afterwards.

without warning you, he takes hold of your head and forces himself fully in your mouth, unapologetically spilling his cum down your throat. once he's slumped and breathing heavily you pull off of him, a string of grotesque spit attaching you and his spent dick, and wipe your face with the back of your hand softly.

you force him to make room for you and sit up as you crawl back into his lap, the skin of your knees indented with the carpet's texture. "you're so fucking good," matt compliments in a daze while holding the bridge of his nose.

you kiss the corner of his open mouth and smirk, "too easy."

౨ৎ

"why does it keep biting me?!" chris yelps.

you and andrea never expected to own any kind of pet in recent years, due to both of your awkward schedules and mutual irresponsibility for your actions (finding it appropriate that you both learn to care for yourselves before an animal, no matter how tempting). but that was before you both found a tiny black kitten near a local bus stop that almost had you in tears.

you scooped him up easily and held him in your lap the entire drive home with andrea looking over and cooing at each red light she'd hit.

the entire day was spent googling, then bathing him, then googling if it was okay to use dish soap on a baby kitten, all while you both were clawed at and splashed the entire time.

but you and andrea have settled into cat motherhood well. recently you both went half on buying a cat tree (that is honestly way too big for your tiny living area) and decided to get your friends to help build it.

"he probably doesn't like you," nick suggests while twisting a screwdriver, legs sprawled on the floor.

"i'm sure he doesn't like anything with a name like figaro." chris deepens his voice when stating the cat's name and rolls his eyes.

"shut up, chris!" andrea calls from the kitchen.

"y/n, do you guys have any batteries?" erin asks as she opens the packaging of the cat toy she brought as a gift for figaro.

you smile at the ball of black fur at her side, clumsily punching the cardboard and plastic wrapping before nodding your head and placing your glass on the table, "yeah, which kind?"

"uh, triple a, three of them please."

you head to a closet down the hall to gather the batteries, fumbling with the top shelf a little. you don't hear when the bathroom door next to you opens and matt walks out, only recognizing when you hear his voice, "need some help?"

"no, thank you," you glance at him behind you and smile, giving a final stretch to reach the packaging. "see?" you show him the package in your hand proving he had no reason to even ask.

he smirks and stops you from closing the closet door just yet, "you look nice." you thank him and aren't surprised at what falls from his mouth next, "kinda need to paint with you soon."

"i'm sure you do," you almost laugh, due to both matt's undying horniness and the continued reference to painting.

he looks into your eyes carefully as he feels for your side and swipes his thumb over your tattoo. his mouth comes closer, right below your ear, "i'm not playin', i miss it." he leaves a kiss at the spot before he backs away and places his hands together in a prayer position, rocking them back and forth, mouthing "please."

the both of you almost laugh just before he turns to walk back to the group and remi calls for you to bring her a drink on your way back.

only when you're back in the living room your smile, matt once put on your face, drops as your eyes immediately catch erin and matt talking, her leg leaning far onto his as he reads the instructions and makes dry jokes about the toy she'd bought figaro.

you dont interrupt, placing the batteries near erin and taking a seat next to remi. you don't let your emotions manifest in your actions, even if you're starting to feel it a little extra when matt manages to remind you that you really are nothing but a nice fuck to him.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list (ily):

@rootbeerworshiper @deadxrx @breeloveschris @saintsturn @honestlybabymiracle @hearts4chris @starrysturniolo @blissfulbellss @aoxash @st7rnioioss @blondiesjailer @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @sturnioloa @thinkingabkinkyshit101 @tcvazq @novasturniolo03

[steddiealltheway]

Part Three of Six of Meddling ;). Part One. Part Two. AO3 Link.

Nancy drives the four of them to whatever mystery location as Steve has a minor freak out in the backseat because it’s finally hitting him that he kissed Eddie. And Eddie kissed him back. And that’s not something he wants to just breeze over and pretend never happened.  

How will things ever be the same after this?  

Steve runs a hand through his hair as reality hits a little too hard.  

“You okay?” Eddie whispers as his hand moves to rest on Steve’s knee.  

Steve glances down at the hand and squeezes it once before he replies, “Yeah.” But he knows his smile is a little too forced based on the way Eddie’s staring back at him with concern.  

The car slows to a halt.  

“We’re here!”  

Steve glances out the window, and it suddenly hits him. They’ve taken them to the bar where they first met.  

“Throwback,” Eddie breathes out.  

It had been a while since they had been back there. Things had changed over the past three years, and they had found a new bar with better acoustics for Eddie to play at when he isn’t hogging the small stage at the café where he works.  

Still, sometimes Steve misses the place where some of his best memories had formed.  

Once they get inside, nostalgia hits Steve in a way that’s almost bittersweet. Eddie must be feeling the same way based on the low whistle he lets out next to him as they look around. Nothing has really changed since they were last here.  

“We’re going to grab a table away from you guys but remember to take pictures and just text whenever you want to head out. But this is our lunch plan so eat up,” Robin says with a big smile before grabbing Nancy’s hand and pulling her to a far corner spot.  

“I’m kind of relieved that they’re not sitting with us,” Eddie admits as he and Steve walk to the opposite part of the somewhat dead bar. “Can’t wait to get that camera out of my face. I just hope they don’t try to sneak pictures of us while we’re eating.”  

Steve snorts. That sounds exactly like something Robin would do, so he does his best to find a booth where he can’t see the girls and vice versa. He eventually points at one and sits across from Eddie, and the sight of him thoroughly distracts him from any thoughts about Nancy or Robin.  

Eddie pulls out his phone and sets it down on the table. He taps on it once and asks, “What if we only did a cheesy picture of each other before we eat, with our food, and a quick selfie after we finish? Then we can just live in the moment and enjoy this.”  

Steve sticks out his hand for Eddie to shake. “Deal.”  

Eddie grabs his hand and presses a quick kiss against the back of it. “Deal,” he agrees with a wink.  

A blush starts to creep up on Steve’s face, so he ducks his head and grabs his phone – but he knows he’s not being subtle about trying to hide his face. As a new means of distraction, he hits the camera icon and quickly snaps a picture of Eddie without warning. “Pre-date picture done.” Oh, why did he have to call it a date?  

Eddie luckily brushes off his little blunder and scoffs, “No, you have to redo that. You gave me no warning!”  

Steve just laughs as Eddie pouts. Next thing he knows, Eddie’s phone is coming up and snapping a picture of him. Steve freezes. “Hey, that’s unfair.”  

Eddie snorts and presses on the picture. He frowns at it before turning his phone around. “Why do you always have to be so photogenic?”  

The picture is... very telling of everything Steve is feeling. He can practically see the joy and love radiating off himself in a way he hasn’t seen before. It’s terrifying.  

Eddie turns the phone back and clicks around a few times before proudly smiling and turning his phone off.  

“What?” Steve asks suspiciously.  

“Oh, nothing. But could you check the time on my phone?” Eddie asks, sliding it over.  

It’s a weird request, but Steve goes through with it, tapping on the screen. “It’s...” he trails off before he sees the time.  

His smiling face stares back at him as it covers the lock screen on Eddie’s phone. He glances up at Eddie who watches him somewhat anticipatorily. Steve doesn’t say anything, but he unlocks his own phone and immediately changes his lock screen to the picture he took of Eddie.  

It’s cuter than Steve thought it would be considering that he took Eddie off guard. He isn’t looking at the camera. Instead, he’s smiling softly at Steve with his dimples on full display. The only thing wrong with it is that it’s a little bit blurry, but he thinks it adds to Eddie’s general vibe.  

It’s the perfect lock screen really although he thinks Robin and Dustin might kill him for kicking them off it.  

It’s worth it.  

As Steve slides his phone to Eddie, a waiter comes by and introduces himself, “Hi, I’m Tony, I’ll be your waiter today. And the ladies over in the corner told me you two were celebrating an anniversary today?”  

Oh, no. Even from a distance, the two are meddling as much as they can. Steve is about to say no when Eddie replies, “Yes, it’s been three years since we first met in this very bar, and two years since we started dating.” He leans in toward the waiter all conspiratorially and stage whispers, “Give it a year, and I’ll probably be back to propose to him right here.”  

Steve chokes on his saliva.  

“Sorry, babe, did I say that too loud?” Eddie asks with a big smile. He turns back to the waiter. “He’s always telling me that I don’t know how to whisper.”  

It’s true, but Steve can’t say very much as he keeps coughing.  

“We’ll get two waters please,” Eddie says, starting to sound a bit concerned.  

The waiter must be too because before Steve knows it, a glass of water is being placed in front of him and he’s chugging it down. Gosh, he wishes this were a beer.  

Eventually, the coughing dies down, and Steve shoots an apologetic look at the waiter. He just smiles back and politely asks, “Do you know what you want to order?”  

Steve shakes his head and swipes the water off his mouth. “Haven’t looked at the menu yet, we were too busy... reminiscing.” Since when is he playing along with the lie?  

“No worries. You two take your time and happy anniversary.” The waiter quickly dismisses himself, and Steve is left to stare at Eddie.  

“Why would you do that?”  

Eddie throws his hands up. “One, this is great practice for faking a relationship, lets us establish some backstory. And most importantly, two, celebrating an anniversary means a free dessert.”  

“We’re at a bar, not a Chili’s.”  

“There’s still the potential!” Eddie argues back. “Please, Steve, my love, my sweetheart, my muffin-”  

“Please never call me your muffin ever again,” Steve says, cringing.  

Eddie sighs but then a mischievous grin slowly appears on his face. This can’t be good. “I promise not to call you that if you pretend to be my boyfriend of two years during this lunch.”  

The payoff is quite great, but he can’t let Eddie know that, So, Steve takes his time rolling his eyes and pretending to weigh the pros and cons of it all while Eddie shakes the table with how hard he’s bouncing his leg.  

Steve reaches under the table and grabs his knee to still it. “You have yet another deal. But you have to stop shaking the table, too.”  

“Sorry,” Eddie apologizes bashfully. He quickly moves on when he realizes Steve’s phone is still on the table and taps on the screen. He smiles at it and pushes the phone back. “Not as bad as I thought.”  

“Not bad? It’s perfect,” Steve scoffs as he grabs one of the menus at the end of the table.  

He doesn’t get a response, but Eddie is smiling at his menu when Steve glances up.  

Eventually, they put in their food order and chat about random things just to catch up a bit although Steve talks to Eddie every day – usually in person but occasionally over text.  

Then, Eddie randomly throws out the question, “So, are you seeing anyone?”  

Steve swallows hard and shakes his head. “No, are you?”  

“No,” Eddie replies.  

Steve tries and fails to hide a smile. They both know if they started dating someone the other would be one of the first to know, but it’s cute that Eddie asked.  

Their food comes out, and their conversation halts for a bit while they eat. But the relationship conversation plays over and over again in Steve’s head until Eddie interrupts his thoughts. “Man, I can’t believe it’s only been three years since I met you.”  

Steve laughs and finishes chewing his fry. “It feels like I’ve known you longer.”  

“Technically you have, if you count all the times Dustin mentioned my name before we met.”  

“Could’ve met sooner if I hadn’t been so afraid that you would be a weird nerd,” Steve teases him.  

“Hey, you know I’m both of those things, so don’t say it like it’s an insult,” Eddie says with a smile.  

“Well, I didn’t think those two things could be hot together, so excuse me for assuming,” Steve replies while shoving a fry into his mouth.  

Eddie leans forward. “You think I’m hot?” he asks as if he’s teasing him, but Steve can hear a bit of the uncertainty in his tone, so instead of shaming himself for admitting it he shrugs.  

“Always have.”  

Eddie stares at him for a few seconds before he clears his throat and changes the subject, “You should’ve worn the yellow sweater.”  

The comment startles a laugh out of Steve. “Of course you would bring that up. I’ve never understood your obsession with the thing.”  

“Well, there’s a reason I brought it up now.”  

“Oh really,” Steve says raising his eyebrows, not ready for whatever line Eddie has prepared. “And why’s that?”  

“It’s what you were wearing when we first met,” Eddie says as if it’s nothing.  

It takes Steve entirely off guard. His stomach does a little flip. “You remember what I was wearing after all this time?”  

“Yeah,” Eddie says but quickly moves on to ask, “Speaking of that night, what happened to that girl you were with?” He looks away as he asks the question, taking one of Steve’s fries but still not looking him in the eye as he eats it.  

Steve tries to shake off the little piece of information Eddie just gave up as thinks back. He shrugs. “Nothing happened there. I was actually on a date with her that night. She left after we met. Told me I should go out with you instead since I hadn’t paid her any attention since the moment I laid eyes on you.”  

Eddie glances back up at him, holding so much intensity in his gaze. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this?”  

“Because I didn’t think I had a chance and didn’t want to risk getting my heart broken.”  

Eddie stares at him, and Steve thinks that they both feel it. All the time they lost that they could’ve potentially spent together if Steve would’ve said something three years ago. But maybe Eddie is thinking something entirely different.  

“Steve-”  

“Hi, I hope everything is tasting alright. Also, I have a dessert on the house for you two. Happy anniversary, and I hope to see you two next year,” the waiter says as he slides the check on the table. Steve swears that he has the same bad timing as Robin and glares at the man as he turns his back.  

“Steve-” Eddie tries again, but then, speak of the devil, Robin is suddenly scooting into the booth next to him and making grabby hands at the dessert.  

“I love free dessert,” she says. “Thanks for going through with it. I thought it would be good practice.” It’s a clear lie based on the way she’s staring at the chocolate cake.  

Nancy gives Steve an apologetic smile as Robin steals his spoon and digs in.  

Steve shoots Eddie a look trying to convey, we’ll talk later.  

He gets a sad smile in response, then they both pick up their forks and take a bite of the cake. Steve can barely enjoy it as he knows that the fate of his and Eddie’s relationship might rely on their next conversation. But Nancy and Robin also won’t leave them alone.  

This is not good.  

Part Four

Tag List :

@henderdads @little-gae-shit @dreamingtheimpossibe @leethegay @lazyavenuewhispers @olibxr @thegayestpersonever @heartsforhawke @estrellami-1 @messrs-weasley @evillitteguy @miss-hit @infrogulous @romanticdestruction @liz5100 @evix-syne666 @bebe07011 @corrodedseraphine @meganwinchester @manda-panda-monium

[bueckerssturns]

Oneshot idea:

Chris or Matt and you are in a relationship. They don’t stick up for you when a celeb girl hits on them in public to “keep the peace” but this leads to ANGST.

was it worth it? - m. sturniolo

pairing: matt x fem ! reader

warnings: cursing, fighting, angst

basically the request but with my own little twist.

————————————————————————

here i was at yet another stupid influencer party that my boyfriend dragged me to, he knows this isn’t really my thing, you see matt and i have been together for nearly a year but we’ve decided to keep our relationship a secret from the public just a few friends knowing.

matt was currently talking to group of people potentially talking about collaborating or something similar to that, i was a few feet behind him giving him the space he needed.

i looked at him from the kitchen seeing how he was laughing and joking around with his friends until a girl came touching him in ways i didn’t like, leaning into his ear whispering things with a smile on her face even making her punch him in a flirting way she turned around and i finally got a good look at her. my heart dropped.

chelsea monroe an instagram model with blonde hair and blue eyes— knowing who she is and not in a good way— was now flirting with my boyfriend what hurt more was that he flirted back.

i was less than six feet away witnessing my boyfriend cheating on me like i wasn’t even there trying to distract myself from the heartbreak i started speaking to madi.

-

nick and chris had ubered back to their house an hour ago i would’ve gone with them but matt had told me he wanted to drive me home and that’s what he did.

“are you hungry?” he asked as we got into his car “no” i responded looking forward he started the car his hand finding its way on my thigh making me push it off making him put it back i pushed it off again.

“y/n are you okay?” he asked as he looked towards the road and back to me “yup.” i responded “are you sure?” he urged “definitely” i replied. “y/n” he stated “matthew” i said looking at him with a straight face “okay, what the fuck is wrong you never refer to me as matthew unless something is wrong” he said looking at me for a spilt second before turning back at the road.

“nothing is wrong.” i mumbled with a straight face “y/n don’t be fucking immature and tell me what the fuck is wrong!” he argued “nothing is fucking wrong now drop it!” i slightly yelled.

the rest of the ride was quiet the only sound being the radio playing faintly, as we arrived at my house i quickly unbuckled my belt and started to open my door when matt spoke again.

“i’m sorry for what i said but if you need anything just call me okay?” he says softly “okay.” i said before i fully got out of the car “i love you” he stated before i slammed the car door and made my way into my house quickly locking it.

not even five seconds after i got in i get a phone call pulling it out and looking at the caller id

“what matt?” i sighed “you didn’t say ‘i love you’ back” he mumbled “yea and?” “you never not say it back” he sighed “yea well i’m tired bye” i replied hanging up.

that was the last time i spoke to him, that was friday night now it’s sunday i’ve spent all weekend crying ignoring all his texts and calls only keeping contact with chris and nick.

-

i kept the no contact thing all week and before i knew it it was friday again knowing the triplets had another party to go to i decided to have a night to myself and rewatch ‘supernatural’ while eating ice cream or any other snacks i could get my hands on.

i was three hours into the show when my phone lit up with a notification ‘matthew.sturniolo just posted on their story.’

clicking on the notification my heart drops i couldn’t believe it he was posing with chelsea she was leaning into him his hand on her waist a perfect view of his neck— hickies covering his neck and lipstick slightly smudge on his lips her lipstick.

that was my breaking point i paused my tv walking towards my room pulling out his duffel bag and a box in the duffel i put all the clothes he’s left here over the time and in the box all the the gifts he’s given me. i was done and i wasn’t going to let him hurt me.

i don’t remember falling asleep but i woke up on the couch with a few missed calls from matt, i didn’t answer but i instead texted chris and nick in the group chat we had without matt

ME:

could yall come over? i have a few things i need you guys to pick up.

CHRIS:

yea let me just order an uber we’ll be there in like 10 minutes or so

NICK:

we’re on our way.

after a few minutes i hear a knock on my door already opening the door i let the boys in and made my way to my room to pick up the duffel taking it back to the living room and handing it to a very confused nick.

“give that to matthew” i said with a straight face “matthew? full name that can’t be good what’d he do” asked nick “he cheated” i stated calmly “he what?!” the both replied nearly yelling “yea you guys didn’t see the photo?” i pulled out my phone to show them the picture “that son of a bitch!” exclaimed chris “well good you’re breaking up with him” chimed in nick “wait i thought you’d be more heartbroken about this” question nick “well i was the first time it happened but i realized that if he really loved me he wouldn’t be a two timing bitch” i scoffed

“good for you!” praised chris as he smiled at me with that nicks phone rang “speaking of the devil” he sighed “what’s up matt? what? no we haven’t heard from her” he smiled winking at me signaling that he was asking about me after a while they hang up “well we have to go but we’re in your side no matter what!” nick said as he got up and gave me a side hug then picked up the duffel heading outside.

“if you ever need anything or something don’t hesitate to call or text me or nick okay?” he mumbled into my hair as we hugged “okay thank you so much i love you guys so much” i mumbled back letting go of the hug.

-

ring ring

i picked up my phone to matt calling i hung up and turned back around to go to sleep but my phone kept buzzing not letting me.

“hello?” i responded groggily “what the actual fuck y/n!” matt’s voice boomed through my phone’s speakers making me pull it away a bit “huh what are you talking about?” “why did chris and nick just bring me a duffel with my things in it?” he angrily asked “because i’m breaking up with you” i stated “what?” he laughed “i’m. breaking up. with. you. understand?” i broke down each word like if i was speaking to a baby “why are you breaking up with me?” he scoffed “hmmm i don’t know maybe because you cheated on me with chelsea?” i asked “what? i didn’t cheat on you!” “don’t make me laugh matthew i have proof from text messages to the story you posted last night”

“look im sorry i made a mistake but baby please don’t do this i-i love you!” he begged into the phone “maybe you should’ve thought about that before you cheated bye matthew and by the way i hope she was worth it.” i spoke before i hung up the phone.

————————————————————————

okay this is not as good as i wanted it to be but hopefully you like it pookie 😰

tags: @sturnioloslurps @hearts4chris @patscorner

[belokhvostikova]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | The day has come when you finally return from your suspension, and Eddie is there to provide the detailed account to the tribulations that occurred, but one thing is to be noted: Eddie Munson stayed by your side through it all.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, yelling, crying, therapy, bullying, sexist slut shaming, brief allusions to an eating disorder, slight mentions of unwarranted touching, strained parental relationship, harassment, minimal violence, mentions of domestic abuse, and mentions and childhood neglect and abuse.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Watched Harry Potter during writing, so I inserted a reference that totally didn’t exist in the timeline, lol. But I do wonder, do you think Eddie Munson would have liked Harry Potter, and what house is he in?! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐕. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞

“I’m tellin’ you, Ms. K, it was like straight out of a movie!”

Ms. K, he had gotten comfortable. It was good. Great even. Because that Thursday morning, the entire hour-long session consisted of I don't know’s, maybe’s, and I guess’. And yes, Ms. Kelly is a licensed counselor, but she’s also human, and it was starting to frustrate her a bit. Just a teeny tiny bit. But it was progress, nonetheless, and she had let Eddie Munson know that he had her full attention and that there was no judgment. And for that, he was forever grateful. Now, she’d never compare nor expose the intimate details of other students’ tribulations to anyone, but my god, was Eddie Munson a unique character in comparison to the others. There was a switch in him, and evident one. Because that impromptu talk that Thursday morning, she had seen the hardening exterior of Eddie Munson that he casted on the daily basis. No conversation. Blank face. Vehement resentment to vulnerability. But she had studied this field for six years of her life, and she took notice of the yearn in his eyes that was telling him to just speak. Talk. Let it all out. And fortunately it came. By Friday afternoon, he had detailed the events of his life, the weakness of his mother, the ruffian character of his father, and the mistakes of his life as a result. You. Though, he chose to refrain from using your name. There was still some slight embarrassment from telling a school faculty member about his crush. The last thing he needed was Ms. Kelly grinning across the parking lot to him when you returned. And by Monday afternoon—today, the day you came—he’d spoken to her like she was his best friend.

“Was it now?” There was a lingering smile on her face, as Eddie confided about his day, completely relaxed and comfortable with speaking. No tense shoulders. No rigid posture. No nasty tone. “In what ways, Eddie?”

“Well, you should have seen the way she walked in. I mean, my god! Complete badass- oh, I’m so sorry,” He corrected his word choice, “I mean, like totally cool, like she didn’t care what anyone had to say.”

If you knew how Eddie was describing your return to Hawkins High, you would have wished it to be that glamorous. But as it’s been established before, reality is the biggest pain in the ass, and you were terrifyingly panicking in the front seat of your father’s BMW.

Ms. Kelly chuckled at his revelation. “I’ll take your word for it, Eddie.” She nodded. “But while I’m sure this particular person made their grand entrance, I want to know about you. How did seeing them make you feel after taking that needed time apart? Take me back to this morning.”

“Okay.” Eddie agreed. “Uh, this morning…”

-

This morning.

The crowded parking lot had been filling with the cars and bikes of students loitering before the shrilling ring of the commencing bell. Yearbooks. Yearbooks were everywhere, in the hands of teenagers eager to have their friends commemorate the ending year with the valued signature of friendship and camaraderie. It fucking disgusted him. Everyone smiling about as if they didn’t cast out the one person who dedicated their high school years to taking the very photos everyone was gushing about: the Homecoming dance, the Winter Formal, spirit week. Everything. Every memory that made the school year so great, captured by your work, yet everyone was seemingly ready to throw you away because of him. 

It was why he was camping out in the grand lavishness of his van. Black Sabbath was yelling beyond the walls of his vehicle, prompting to receive the dirty looks he’d been all too accustomed to, as he sat back with a lit cigarette hanging from his dry lips. Grant Goodman and Gareth Emerson had been stationed by the bike racks, where Jeff Best had just arrived on his trusty wheels. His friends. Conversed like normal, probably waiting for the arrival of Eddie, as they did everyday, but Eddie had no plans of coming out of his car. Yet, at least. Looking a little to the left, he took notice of Dustin Henderson spewing nonsense to the once infamous "King" Steve Harrington, who once actually bumped into Eddie’s shoulder in the hallway and threw him a dirty look during their shared years. He always wondered what Dustin Henderson saw in “The Hair,” maybe he’s changed? I mean, he does seem to be the personal chauffeur of Robin Buckley, who he was once in a band with before he abruptly quit after seeing the mandatory outfits. And she was always cool. Weird, but cool. Mike Wheeler had joined their conversation, alongside Lucas Sinclair, which is when he caught wind of Nancy Wheeler rushing into school with her quiet friend, he believed her name was Barb Holland. Looking at them walk away, Eddie wondered what would be the possibility of convincing Nancy Wheeler into letting you rejoin the Yearbook Committee. Surely with the way sales were booming, more help was needed, right? And she had to feel bad for what unfolded for you, right? And with the quickest glimpse away, he followed the shy figure of Chrissy Cunningham, who walked with her books held tightly, and a talkative Jessica Lewis trailing behind, seemingly attempting to question the cheerleader. Because when Eddie looked to the other side, he saw Jason Carver longing for his leaving girlfriend with a look of dejection, and Andy McAvoy on an endeavor to hype him up. Trouble in paradise? Eddie Munson could sit and ponder on the endless possibilities of the lives of his peers, but his meaningless thoughts were adjourned under the sudden stop and stare of every student.

You. 

“Hey, look at- look at me, damn it!” Your eyes peeled from your entangled fingers that sat trembling on your shaking legs, and looked over to his stern glare. He pierced his disappointment into you, drilling into the anxiety of already returning to school after everything that had occurred. “You go in there and stir up any more trouble with your school work or that filth I caught you with, you’re dead. You understand me, young lady? Huh?!”

“Yes, dad.” You mustered up a whisper. 

“Go. Don’t be fucking late and ruin for your future more.” Your hand clutched the door handle, and for a second you stopped. God knows what would happen when everybody saw you. Monday’s cafeteria scene didn’t exactly leave everyone with the greatest impression of you and you knew exactly how high school students operated in a small town like Hawkins. You were branded with a title, a degrading one that was farther from the truth, but what good does the truth do when claiming that the sweetheart of a cheerleader with a bright future of success gets fucked by the satanic cultist in return for a favor is far more entertaining for the gossiping lives of high school teenager? By now, you were either pregnant with the devil’s baby or coked up with drugs on the side of the street, or both. People had their bets, the more twisted the better. But not a single thought of your pain. Not a single thought that you were hurting at the sheer size of all that went wrong, just because you were simply being nice. Because thinking of the repercussion of their words took the fun out of everything. And to them, people like you don’t deserve the time of day. You were like Eddie Munson now. And Eddie Munson deserved the pain of the world because he was… different. That was Hawkins, Indiana. That was reality. You begrudgingly pulled the handle. “Remember,” your father stopped you, “those kids say anything, just remember you put that on yourself, and you better take it as a lesson. Go.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat. His words were his words, not the world’s. You had shed enough tears over the years of childhood, and his reign over you wasn’t going to continue. You could repeat that mantra over and over, and maybe in the long run it would finally cement that his words were not the truth. But for now, you could only pretend it didn’t hurt until it would eventually not. But inside, there was a little girl asking what was so wrong with her that her daddy couldn’t do the one innate job that came with parenthood: to love her. You wouldn’t know it, but a seven-year-old Eddie Munson was wondering the exact same thing. 

You got out with a slam to his face that verbalized all the screaming you couldn’t do. Your eyes met his through the window, and it was different. What once used to be cordial civility, where he asked and you did, had now entered its endgame. Something so severe it lacked the chance of recovery. And maybe that was okay. Maybe that was for the best. Because like he did with his emotions, he ran. And the screeches of his tires left the remnants of a relationship that was once so profoundly beautiful when your tiny fist curled around his finger. This would be the end between you and your father. And you were ready to accept that. 

You blinked any tears away, as you stood suffocated by the exhaustion of his BMW, leaving you vulnerable in the empty parking spot. Because when you peered it up, your chest heaved at the sudden realization that everyone was staring at you. Glares. Whispers. Snickers. The pointing. The so obvious pointing that your peers were conspiring against you. The ones who once smiled and waved at you. The ones who once greeted you so kindly. All of them, whispering and pointing followed by their teasing laugh just at the mere sight of you. 

Everything was bombarding you so fast.

The clamminess of your hands. The constriction of your throat. The pounding of your heart. The deafening ringing in your ears. The stinging of your nails, as your hands balled so tightly against themselves, but you deserved the crescent shape burns to your palms, you deserved the pain, because you put that on yourself, you better take it as a le- no.

For years, you endured and cemented the hateful words of your father as veracity, letting his speech be the reason why so badly ached inside to perfect every endearing mistake about yourself. Thursday, you scrubbed your body with the refreshing scents of your shower routine and ate full dinners. Friday, you purged your room of any remnants of your old life—polaroids, scrapbooks, notes, memorabilia—discarded to let you know it was okay to move on. Saturday, you wake up in the early hours of the morning, long before the sun rose, and followed the path Eddie Munson once rescued from—onto the roof, over the trimming, down the trellis—and you ran, ran down the dark streets of your neighborhood until you excreted all your pain of your body through the glorious sweats of a morning run. Sunday, you swore to never accept your father’s words ever again.

You were you, and that was perfectly okay. You make mistakes, but that’s what makes you profoundly magnificent. You saw that in others, and you were going to see that in yourself. 

Eddie’s head whipped in the direction of others, and through the smudges of his dirty window, his eyes melted at your frozen stature. This is what he was waiting for. He jumped out of his car, the rattle of his door echoing, following the slam he didn’t intend to be so harsh. But it got your attention from across the parking lot, and that’s all that mattered. 

You met his kind eyes, ones so round and deep, you couldn’t believe they once glared at you with such seethe just last week. But they weren’t now. In fact, they creased at the corners, as his small smile plumped his cheeks. And though small, that smile was the very reassurance you needed. He looked great- healthy, even. The dark circles of his eyes were not bruised mauve from a drunken haze of staying up all night and hungover throughout the afternoon. No, they were merely there from the natural pigmentation of his skin, as the scleras of his eyes shined white with innocence. His cheeks were rosy and full, letting you know he’d stuffed himself with some needed food outside a six-pack of beer. And though it was a habit he knew many were not fond of which honestly made him want to do it even more, he plucked the smoking cigarette from his lips and put it out with the step of his foot. You recall the moment from early September, long before you knew Eddie Munson, when he stalked up to you and Chrissy with the biggest grin on his snickering face asking if you had a lighter on hand. You, the goody two-shoes cheerleader who had the healthiest set of lungs, as the idea of nicotine made your nose scrunch with grimace. You and Chrissy Cunningham would have been the last people on Earth to have a lighter on hand. While you answered him with a shake to your head, Eddie ticked his tongue in disappointment, but before he could begrudgingly leave, you softly spoke, “Be sure to be careful, don’t want you getting sick from those. That’d be awful.” You had heard the news of what led down the road of cigarette smoking. And while Eddie would have typically told anyone who tried to place their unwarranted input on his life choices to fuck off, his grin merely grew ten times its size at your consideration, “‘Preciate that, sweetheart, I’ll keep that in mind.” Eddie felt like his heart was going to lunge out after you as you walked away. You didn’t know it, but Eddie had driven himself up a wall debating on whether or not to ask you that simple question. You were always just so breathtakingly mesmerizing, it was nerve-racking. 

Yes, Eddie Munson has had a long time crush on you.

Your nails released from their stabbing hold into your palms, as your hands relaxed. Eddie saw your softening composure and sighed with relief, seeing that torturing breath that nestled in your throat finally escape into the spring air. As much as Eddie Munson would have loved to tell his fellow schoolmates to fuck themselves and leave you alone, he knew his interference was the last thing you would have wanted. So in the most gentle way possible, he subtly threw you a thumbs up with a stupid grin that made the twenty-year-old metalhead look like a jolly child trying to cheer up their friend.

But it made you quietly giggle, and that’s all he cared about. 

You readjusted the straps to your backpack, and took a deep breath. And though you were internally screaming inside, you strided past the gossiping clumps of judgmental teenagers, and their choice to deduce you into degrading, misogynistic names held no merit against your faux confidence. Head held high with a stern gaze to the school, you walked through their whispers with a straight face to let them know they couldn’t get to you. And it was convincing enough. Because Eddie Munson was bouncing on the balls of his feet with bursting gasconade at your powerful strut. Eddie wishes he was half as cool as you. 

-

“So, yeah, it, uh, it made me really happy. Like, just seeing them being so… okay with themselves and not taking any of the crap that other people were saying was great. I, uh, I loved seeing that.” He lips smiled tightly into a thin line to restrain from busting out into a hearty grin, though Ms. Kelly could see it in his face just how important this moment was for him. 

“That’s wonderful, Eddie. So the break was good?” She leaned over her desk to ask.

“Yeah, yeah.” He nodded his head. “Um, I’ll be honest, at first- that first day I really wanted to call them to let them know I was taking the steps to be, um, y’know, better, but I figured them seeing me now would have been more important, I guess.”

“Yes.” Ms. Kelly agreed. “That was a good call on your part, Eddie.”

“Yeah, so as much as I wanted to just talk to them, I made sure I didn’t.” He assured. “And I really liked that I held back. Um,” Eddie nervously chuckled, as he picked the threads of his jeans, “would it be stupid to say that I’m proud of myself for that? That I was actually able to work on my self-control and boundaries even if it was just something small?” 

“Of course, not, Eddie!” Ms. Kelly flashed him a kind smile, which had Eddie shyly grinning. “That’s an incredible thing to make progress on, and nothing in your journey will ever be too small to recognize, okay? I want you to understand that. I know it’s difficult to acknowledge these steps as a win, and I know it’s even harder granting yourself the right to be proud, because you believe you’ve committed too many wrong to ever feel for yourself, but remember Eddie, those hesitations are merely the result of the words that were placed upon you with intent to hurt you, and they don’t dictate your life. You do. Don’t give those words the power to hurt you. You deserve to be proud.”

A fervent nod to his head proffered the understanding that he was taking in her truth with deep care. The insistent curses of his dad and the bullshit rhetoric of students or the townspeople held no value to the words in which Eddie thought of himself. And if he wanted to be proud, he should be proud. 

“Yeah, um, I am proud of myself- I know it’s like the bare minimum, but I’m happy.” He smiled. “And um, it was pretty amazing knowing that they were in the same boat as me, like, while I’m trying to get better, they are, too. I know that they struggle with what other people say about them, too, and seeing them walk in with all the confidence in the world was really… it was quite literally the greatest thing ever. I’m happy they’re getting happy; that we’re working on ourselves.”

“And how’s that going with you specifically?” Ms. Kelly attentively asked. “What else have you done to progress?”

“Well, um, I took your advice and opened up more with my uncle.” He huffed a laugh at the memory. “You should have seen the look on his face when I told him that I was basically in therapy.”

She questioned, “Was he angry?” 

“No, not angry. More, like, ‘I didn’t even know this kid knew what therapy was’ kinda shock. He definitely didn’t expect it when I sat him down, but he’s a good man, and he, uh, listened to me. The whole time.”

“And how was it?”

“Hard and strange.” He gulped. “See, my uncle, he’s endured a lot for me; he’s an old man who works his ass off to pay the bills and provide basic, crappy dinners and I- I honestly feel really fuc- bad. I feel really bad. That, y’know, he has to do all that stuff for me when he didn’t even want to, like, have kids in the first place.” Eddie sighed. “And, truthfully, I just didn’t want to burden him with anymore of my problems, like I did to my mom and dad. I’ve already caused enough issues with the cafeteria incident, not graduating twice, getting in trouble with the cops. I just- I just know he has to be tired of me, so I was scared to talk to him.”

“Eddie,” Ms. Kelly grabbed his attention, “do you feel that if you hadn’t acted a certain way, talked a certain way, your parents wouldn’t have… touched you as a child?”

His once relaxed composure stiffened under her sudden interrogation. His eyes bolted around the room, trying to refrain his mind from wandering into the suffocating memory of his chubby hands spilling the last of the juice that was supposed to last his family for the rest of week all over the floor. He wanted to be a simple baby who was capable of listening to his mommy's words and just wait a minute, but his tiny throat was hurting from being dry and mommy had forgotten about him when daddy came home screaming about the place being a mess. His little mouth gasped in fear, running to the counter, his short arms reached and reached and his efforts had to turn to opening the bottom cabinet that was a couple inches above the floor and provided him the extra height to finally retrieve the paper. Feet pattering back to his proliferating spill, his hands haphazardly ripped a multitude of sheets and threw them to the floor. But the juice was not absorbing as fast as he wanted, and his tiny body was beating with terror, as daddy’s voice was booming through the walls of their house as he yelled at mommy in their room. He whimpered in panic as he tried to clean and clean, but the $3 pack of store brand tissue merely bled through, the jumble ball of paper causing his sticky mess to spread. It was to no avail, and daddy soon marched his way back to the kitchen. The second Eddie heard the towering footsteps, he peered up through his neglected hair that barely made life visible over his eyes, and saw the big scary face that hurt him every day. Eddie cleared his throat and murmured, “I don’t know.”

She signed a sympathetic breath, “What your parents did to you as a child has nothing to do with who you are or your personality, and it is absolutely not your fault.” Ms. Kelly spoke her declaration with firm gentleness. “You, Eddie, were not and will not be a burden in anyone’s life. You were dealt a misfortunate hand in life, but you were nowhere near the cause of it. You merely survived.”

Rubbing his eyes before his tears could soak his lashes, Eddie sighed, and sat back in his chair quietly. “I, uh, I said it was strange, and it was, because my uncle and I don’t really talk of that matter. When I was younger, he’d tell me it was okay to just let that life go, that I was okay with him, and it did help in that moment. But I kinda feel like it just gradually grew to become this big elephant in the room that we always avoided for the sake of peace. But during the weekend, I finally got the balls to just do it, and well, it was definitely uncomfortable but in a good way. I told him what was happening with me and how I felt, and he did the same, which honestly I wasn’t expecting. I-it was good. Great even.”

“These moments of clarity are valuable, Eddie.” Ms. Kelly spoke. “These times when speaking is all you do with another person are important to have and the uncomfortableness, the rawness, of it all paves the way to recovery. And it may be disturbing, absolutely not linear, but these are the steps that matter. And you’re doing an amazing job, Eddie.”

“Th-thank you, really, Ms. K.” He nodded his head gratefully. “I, uh, I always knew I talked a lot, my friends always teasin’ me about it, but I’m really enjoying it. Talking these things out with you and others.” He smiled.

“I enjoy it, too. Wouldn’t have spent thousands studying it just to hate it.” She joked, which gave him room for a small chuckle. “Want to tell me about the rest of your day?”

“Oh, yeah,” he sat up, wiping the sweat from his palms onto the worn denim of jeans, “lunch was pretty great, too, so basically…”

-

That confident facade of yours had broken in the midst of third period.

There was only so much scrutinizing stares you could handle from students- even staff who had sipped their coffee and gossiped about the day of your demise, discussing how their perfect student fell under the wrong influence right under their noses. Having to hear their patronizing “We’re here to help you catch up after your… circumstance” that was seemingly always followed by a grimacing look casted by a fake smile of sympathy that made your mouth want to heat up and hurl the stew that was your breakfast. 

But third period had been different. Worse. 

Unlike your previous classes—where you’d been indebted for having sane teachers who let you choose your own seating, prompting you into picking the back desk in the furthest row that provided some shielding to the obtrusive scowls—your third period had not been granted that same privilege, as your third period had Mr. Fitzgerald holding the reins to the functionality of the class. A bitter bitter old man who denounced the teenagers of Hawkins High as the devil incarnate, you should have seen the sheer look of terror and disgust when he first came face-to-face with the Eddie Munson. 

And that infamous look matched that of the look he gave you when you stepped into his AP Calculus class that midday for the first time in a week. “Ms. Y/N, back already?” He stopped you the second you stepped foot in his dungeon classroom.

“Uh, yes, sir-”

“I sure hope you are well aware of the fact that this Advanced Placement class holds no room for coddling, and I can assure you no one will be holding your hand through the lessons you deliberately missed during your vacation.” He pontificated in your face. Your cheeks flared in a crashing heat as your settling classmates chuckled at the spotlight he casted upon you. “Come on, front and center.” He pointed to the empty chair that was surrounded by students in the center of the classroom, and meticulously sat right next to Andy McAvoy, who was daggering a provoked face of wrath at your presence. 

Mr. Fitzgerald had practically placed a dunce hat on your head for everyone to laugh at. 

You shrunk in your seat every passing minute, as glares laser beamed into you from the front, side, back. Your palpitating heart had no room to rest, as Mr. Fitzgerald took it upon himself to randomly select you—every single time—to answer questions about a lesson you weren’t even present to have learned about, enabling the other fourteen students to snicker at every stuttering I don’t know you had to mutter with shame and embarrassment that flared your body with burns of embarrassment. 

The ache in your head had pounded your focus into oblivion, making the numbers and letters of your worksheet blend into incomprehensible blurs that had your hand twitching with the belief that you were already failing, and that dazzling A+ that made your father pat you on the back when he demanded your report card would slip into your biggest fear: an A-. In retrospect, an A- was a highly respectable grade, but when you’ve been conditioned to dictate your self-worth on the basis of academic validation, having your grade slip seemed like the biggest indication that your father's words were the truth. You were going to fail in life. And right now, all you wanted was the thumbs-up of a particular boy to let you know everything was going to be okay. 

And everything started crashing down when you heard it.

“Freak’s whore.”

Andy McAvoy had full intentions of letting everyone hear his vile conviction, murmuring for the surrounding people to hear but taking advantage of Mr. Fitzgerald’s aging ears and whispering it so it went unknown to the authoritative figure. 

“Can’t believe she tried to get with me.” He smiled to Karry Koven, as she giggled and stared at you.

It was a lie. It was the most loaded lie you ever heard. For the past two years, Andy McAvoy had made it his life's mission to claim you as his own, after Jason proffered the idea of double-dating with him and Chrissy. The idea hadn’t been too bad of an offer, until you actually went, and his sleazy hands felt the need to wander your body despite your consistent attempts to keep things at a platonic level. With Chrissy Cunningham and Jason Carver coupling up, it only seemed fair for their best friends to follow suit, and such belief left Andy’s arrogant mind to believing to be entitled to your body. 

“Such a gross slut, can’t even imagine what that freak gave her.”

In the last ten minutes of class, you excused yourself to the bathroom and silently cried in the lonely stall. 

It was a setback. A major one. And your old self would have cursed at you for letting some meaningless words get to you, but you were allowing yourself the mistakes that came with the experience of being human, and if being hurt by the sexist comments of a jock who got a shot to his ego because a girl rejected them, then so be it. You were distraught, and words were bound to get to you. Crying was the release you needed to let yourself recuperate and continue your day. 

The bell had rung for lunch, you quickly wiped the remaining tears of your face with the rough paper towels stationed at the sink, and caught yourself in the reflecting glass of the mirror. Truthfully, how embarrassing would it be to give yourself a pep talk in the grimy bathrooms of your high school? Last time you entered the lunchroom, hell had broken loose, and your image was severed with the humiliating speech of Jason Carver and the deafening punch of Eddie Munson’s fist.

But before the optimistic phrases that you gathered from every movie you ever seen could be spoken to yourself, the cacophonous laughs of a group of girls pummeled their way into the bathroom, but they were quickly silenced upon seeing your presence. You knew what would come if you stayed, and you genuinely did not need more nasty comments thrown at your face, so with grace, you flashed a friendly smile that they predictably did not return on their scowling faces, and walked past them into the bustling halls.

It was now or never.

“C’mon, you don’t even like peaches!” Dustin slumped in his chair, as his efforts into devouring Jeff’s fruit side came to bust.

Jeff smiled with pleasure. “Yeah, but there’s something about not letting you have it that just makes me really happy.” The table chimed in with laughter. 

“You guys are all mean.” He huffed with crossed arms, which simply elicited more laughs. “Mean, mean, mean people.”

“Don’t pout, Henderson, I’ll be sure to have Jeff’s character fall off a cliff in this week's campaign.” Eddie chucked down a pretzel with a teasing grin.

“What?!” Jeff sat up, as the laughs turned against him. “You can’t do that, you’re totally just bluffing!”

“You might as well.” Grant chuckled. “It will make it more interesting, and we deserve interesting after you bailed on us Friday.” He sternly pointed his spork at Eddie, which quickly met the table when he smacked it away. 

“I told you,” Eddie sighed, “I was busy.” One day he'd tell his friends of his therapy sessions. But at the moment, they were acting like high school boys, and today was not the day to reveal so.

“Aw, were you pretending your guitar was a girl?” Gareth snided with kissy faces, that made the boys obnoxiously laugh harder, and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Please, Emerson, I can’t remember the last time a girl spoke to you that wasn’t your mom.” He retorted back. “And I’d be careful if I were you, Gareth the Great could have the same demise off that cli…”

Eddie had trailed his words into silence when his eyes landed on you.

There, through the heavy doors of the crowding cafeteria, you were once again making an entrance that was completely out of your control. If you had it your way, your figure would be dismissed, like a ghost people could not perceive. But that was never an option for you. Even before, happy waves and nice greetings were always following you, but the current trend in the bubble of Hawkins High was picking the next girl to surmise as a slut because you made the decision to be nice to a group of boys, and how dare you do so, especially when those boys were no good satanists who would perform human sacrifices in woods in the middle of the night? It’s funny how high school worked in the isolation of a small town. 

So once again, the stares were happening, as everyone decided to switch their hushed conversations to the entertaining topic of you; laughing their harsh opinions to their circle of friends or seeing how far they could fabricate more rumors. Your eyes landed on the table you once sat at, your designated chair no longer reserved for your being, but rather piled with sneakers of Jason Carver who decided to use your seat as a footrest. It didn’t take a genius to know you were no longer welcomed within that group, their blatant stares making it beyond the realms of obvious. 

But you didn’t need them. You didn’t need Jessica Lewis’ patronizing comments. You didn’t need Andy McAvoy’s unwarranted touches. You didn’t need Jason Carver’s pesting control over everyone. 

The neglected half of the lunchroom table where the kids of the drama club took residence on the other end would be perfectly okay for you. Ignoring their judgmental looks, you sat quiet in desolation, as everyone around you chortled at the downfall of the perfect cheerleader. 

“Eddie!” Gareth waved his hand in his face, snapping Eddie back to reality.

“Holy shit, you were totally checking out Y/N!” Mike laughed. 

“N-no, I wasn’t.” His hair fervently moved with the vehement shakes to his head. “Everyone is fucking staring at her.”

“But you were staring staring, Eddie.” Jeff teased with a big grin. "Like how you stared at that one older chick with the huge boobs at the Hideout that one time."

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were.”

With heavy sigh, you decided the best option was productivity, and the sweetness of your precisely cut strawberries were fueling you with the needed energy to focus on the piling stack of missing work you were due to accomplish. Equations and word problems could provide enough distraction from the myriad of bullying that was hurtling against you, and in a very unlikely case, homework was easing your mind into a peaceful state. If this is how you had to finish out your senior year, then it was something you’d be okay with coming to terms with. Aloneness could be a scary thing, and you were facing it in the terrors of your dark room where you were shut in and locked away, as you held yourself while the tears dampened your pillow case. But aloneness was also a wonderful thing, where in moments like these, when it felt like everyone was against you, you could lavish in the company of yourself—food and task at hand—because you liked the way your mind worked, you liked the way you perceived the world, it was unique to yourself and it was a beautiful thing to explore on your own. 

But a soft tap to your shoulder had pulled you from your studies, and you peered up, being met with a comforting smile.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Chrissy.”

“Is it okay if I sit with you?” She pointed the chair across from you.

Your agreeing nod led her to plopping down and pulling her lunch out, as though this interaction was something of normality. You looked around, the stares had intensified with the sudden movements of Chrissy Cunningham joining you for lunch. While the act of two best friends eating together was everything but abnormal, the events of last Monday had foreseen your rumored recent fuck punching her boyfriend, and the idea of you and Chrissy would have assumed to be severed. 

But here she was, sitting with you without a care of the world. 

You watched her dejectedly sigh at the sight of her pre-packed lunch clearly made by the hands of her mother. Green. Bland. Portioned so small it wouldn’t stuff a toddler. You pushed your tray of food to her. “Have some of mine.” You smiled, switching her plate with yours. “Maybe we can give yours to Mrs. Durberry’s pet lizard.” And she laughed that grateful laugh that you always seemed to cause whenever you’d save her appetite from the terrible choices of her mother with a joke to make her feel better. And she comfortably took the other half of your sandwich.

“Have, um, have people been saying stuff about you?” She delicately asked with a mouthful of food.

With a smile on your face, you nodded. “Yeah. Nothing I wasn’t expecting, though.” You shrugged. “Are you, uh, are you okay sitting with me? Like Jason might-”

“I broke up with Jason.” She interjected. 

Looking back, you met his disbelief scowl that was certainly blaming you for the ending of his relationship. “You did? Already?”

She nodded her head. “I didn’t want to wait it out, because I knew that if I took too long I would just procrastinate, and I probably wouldn’t get the courage to actually do it. But I did.” She sighed.

“Are you okay?” Three years of a relationship, filled with young love, innocence, and first times were all gone in a matter of seconds when Chrissy arrived at the doorstep of Jason’s house. But a revelation Chrissy had to come to terms with was the fact that years together, the length of a relationship, holds no merit to the satisfaction of one’s mind and heart, and Jason Carver was simply someone he used to not be. The once skinny sophomore who sat the benches of all games had grown to be a young man with screwed priorities that came at the expense of his girlfriend’s comfortability, especially when she was becoming someone she didn’t want to be. 

“Yeah.” She quietly answered. “Um, he didn’t exactly take it well, and my mom can’t seem to wrap her head around the idea that I just didn’t like who he was anymore. They both keep pestering me about it.”

“Don’t listen to whatever they might be saying.” You advised. “Really, if getting away from him is what you want- what you need, please don’t let them take that away from you.”

“I won’t.” She smiled. “Hey, are you still coming back to practice? Coach has been dying to have you back. As much as Jessica likes to think, she is not a good flyer.” 

You giggled. “Ugh, I would have loved to see that. But yeah, I told my dad I’d be staying for practice. Though, I’m heavily expecting to come out with a broken leg, because those girls are totally dropping me for, you know, associating with he who must not be named.” 

“Don’t worry, coach has literally been on a frenzy ever since you left, she’ll take care of them. Seriously, Y/N, as much as they’d like to admit otherwise, we have been a mess without you.” Chrissy reassured. “And um, how are things… w-with your dad. I, uh, I saw the locks when-”

“It’s fine, Chrissy, really. Don’t worry about it.” You murmured, more as an excuse to forget about it. “I’m learning to deal with it. But let's just talk about something else.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. 

Chrissy agreed for your comfort. Because for once, speaking with Chrissy about the miniscule things of life felt like the stability of normalcy you had been yearning for. 

“You’re totally staring at her!” Jeff laughed, as Eddie once again was caught up in the glimpses of you.

‘Wh- How many times do I have to tell you I’m not?” He slid back in his chair in embarrassment. There was only so much lying he could do to cover his averting eyes, but the truth was screaming past any attempts of delusion. 

“Oh, so you were staring at Chrissy, you like her then?” Gareth smiled, as Eddie sauntered right into his trap.

“No! Not Chrissy, Y/N’s the one- ugh!” Eddie’s head dropped into the safety of his hands, as his friends’ laughter echoed around the table. While he truly had nothing to be embarrassed about—he quite literally drunkenly admitted his feelings to you already—the discomfort of letting his feelings be known was still new territory for Eddie, and building a friendship on the basis of teasing the living shit out of each other didn’t exactly make his progress any easier. Though, under that frustration, a small teetering curl to his lips and blushing cheeks were appearing behind the cover of his hands. Talking about you did that to him.

“You should totally talk to her.” Dustin reached over to hit his arm, but a switch had flipped in Eddie, and his head shot up with his hand grabbing the boy’s arm before it could make contact. 

Everyone was taken aback by his sudden reflexes. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Don’t tell me you're nervous.” Dustin laughed, as he pulled his arm away with sass. “It’s not like you haven’t talked to her before. Granted you were basically an ass and she probably hates you.”

If only they knew. 

“Wait,” Mike interjected, “is that why you punched Carver in the face last week?”

“And why you left lunch to go find her friend that one time?” Grant added.

“Okay, okay, okay.” Eddie sighed. “Not that this is any of your guys’ business, but yeah- and that’s all you're getting out of me, so knock it off with the interrogation, please?” He shoved a handful of pretzels into his mouth to cope with the stress.

“Why not just go talk to her and apologize?” Jeff suggested. 

“Do you honestly think someone like her would like someone like him- ow?!” Gareth chuckled before a crushed can of soda hit the side of his head. 

“I did apologize to her.” Eddie disregarded Gareth’s comment, answering Jeff with a mouth full of mush and crumbs. “Just don’t wanna bother her with anymore of my talking.” His denim sleeve wiped his lips.

“Well,” Dustin sighed, as he retrieved something from his backpack. “I’ll go bother her.” He smiled, and Eddie cocked his head to the now standing kid.

“What?!”

“You heard me.” Dustin affirmed. “She’s the only reason why my sexy photo is in this yearbook,” he patted the glossy cover to the infamous book, “might as well get her to sign it.”

“Wait! No, Dustin!” Eddie gritted through his teeth, but the young freshman had a goal in mind, one that his Dungeon Master could not interfere with. Even if it meant his character would be doomed with a fateful death at the bottom of a cliff that coming Friday. “Please, Henderson!”

The curly tendrils freed from the cap on his head bounced as he happily ignored the stressed calls of Eddie from the table. In truth, Eddie’s tensity came from a place beyond whatever stupid comment Dustin might make about him to you. He had spent the last four days respecting your boundaries despite his desires to talk to you, and Dustin’s presence might lead you to believe this was his way in getting someone to speak to you on his behalf—something you strictly told him not to do when he was crying hungover on your bed—he’d definitively ruin his chance at ever getting you to trust him again. 

But Dustin Henderson had all the confidence in the world, something you would come to admire in the boy as you got to know him, and he placed himself at the end of the table, where you and Chrissy had resided, interrupting your talks of dinner plans.

“Uh-hem.” He cleared his throat with precise certitude. “Ladies,” Dustin then turned to you, “Hi! I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Dustin Henderson. You took the photo of my club, Hellfire.”

“Yeah, yeah, Dustin, I remember you." You smiled. 

“Awesome!” He squealed on the tips of his toes. “I didn’t actually think you’d remember me.” He giggly confessed. “But anyways, I was wondering if you’d like to, um- would it be okay if you signed my yearbook?” He opened the page to the appointed spot where signatures were entitled to, his page particularly filled with the names, messages, and small doodles of his friends.

“Oh, Dustin, I’d be so very honored.” His grin consumed his face at your acceptance. 

“Oh!” Chrissy perked. “Here’s a pen you could use!” Handing over her trusty pink pen that had recently grown accustomed to the tribulations of your friendship. 

Muttering a small thank you as you took her pen, you uncapped the lid to meet one of the many large spaces of white that surrounded his page. Your heart had gently ached at the realization that not many people had signed his yearbook. The sophistication you oozed defied the laws of coolness in the Dustin Henderson Doctrine. While Eddie Munson’s ability to create and personify some of the greatest campaigns of Dungeons and Dragons he’d ever seen was downright incredible, and Steve Harrington’s ability to sway any cute girl’s Friday night plans to now revolve around him was thoroughly unbelievable, your coolness was surpassing those of the men he looked up to. Maybe it was because you were a beautiful girl who was actually nice to him. Maybe it was because he knew you could play into his antics. Either way, you were ranking yourself to the top of Dustin Henderson’s Favorite People List. And if he ever found out you made way better chocolate chip cookies than his mom, he would have placed you above the woman who birthed him. Because you wrote a, albeit short, cute little message just for him:

Has't a most wondrous summ'r cutie, t's been the greatest privilege knowing thee, kind solid'r - Y/N

“Thank you so much!” He gushed at your writing, making you laugh. 

“Anytime, Dustin.” You gave Chrissy her pen back. “Anything else we can help you with?”

“Ooh, yeah!” He got extremely excited at the open invitation. Your kindness was placing him at a vulnerable spot, that vulnerable spot being the potential strangling hands of Eddie Munson if he ever found out what Dustin was about to do. “So, uh, y’know, Eddie, right?”

Your burrows furrowed playfully. “Hm, yeah, I know, Eddie.” 

“Well, uh, see don’t tell him I told you this, because he would totally kill me, but he kinda sorta has a crush on you.” You turned around and briefly caught Eddie Munson staring at you before his eyes went big and he snapped his head to the other side of the cafeteria as if he didn’t get caught. Ugh, he was just so-

“No way!” Chrissy gasped with fake dramatics as she squealed. “A cute boy likes you!” She sprightly spoke.

“You’re totally messing with me, aren’t you?” You joined in on her theatrics for the sake of letting Dustin Henderson believe he was the brains behind the union of his two friends—as if the confessions of last week's events didn’t happen at all. “The Eddie Munson likes me?! There’s no way, he’s way too cool!” You rhapsodized. 

Oblivious to it all, Dustin jumped with excitement for his friend. “No, he actually does! He totally blushes and everything when we talk about you!”

“That’s so cute!” Chrissy effused. “You guys should, like, totally get married, you’d be so cute together.”

“Oh, totally!” You playfully giggled before turning to Dustin. “Dusty, be sure to tell Eddie to let me get my nails done first before he proposes. I can’t have my hands looking ugly for our engagement photoshoot.”

“Uh, y-yeah, okay!” Dustin shrugged along, completely heedless to the idea that you and Chrissy were just joking around, but his lack of communication with girls had him believing whatever this conversation was transpiring to be was merely the normal gist of what girl talk had to be. Also, there was a small part of you that wanted to give Eddie Munson a heart attack when Dustin returned with the grand news.

“Great, it’s settled then!” You smiled. “I have full trust that you will relay the message, good sir.” You popped a strawberry into your mouth, as Dustin swiftly shook his head. 

“Yes! Yes, totally!” His curls shook with his head. 

“Alrighty then, Dustin, maybe you can talk Eddie into letting you be his best man.” You smiled. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks again for everything!” He waved you both off excitedly, eager to run and tell Eddie the good news.

Chrissy and you watched him nearly trip over his own two feet as he speed-walk to the table he had came from—not wanting to fall victim to Mr. Long’s threat of no running on the school grounds, as he monitored the lunchroom. “He’s so adorable.” You two giggled as you both watched him flee. 

Dustin had plopped in his chair with a heaving chest, as his table began torpedoing an onslaught of questions, Eddie’s queries being the harshest. “Do you literally want to die?!” The metalhead slammed his hand onto the table, ignoring the stinging burn that came right after. “Why would you go up to her?! What did you say?! What did she say?!”

“She said…” Dustin huffed too long for Eddie’s thinning patiences, “she said that I was a cutie-”

“What?!”

“-and that she wants to marry you.”

“What?!”

You and Chrissy Cunningham laughed across the cafeteria at his booming voice. 

-

“So yeah, that totally means they want me, right?”

Ms. Kelly had suddenly turned into a love coach. 

“Uh, well, I’m sure the feeling is… mutual between the two of you.” She hesitantly answered, not sure how to exactly approach the love life of her teenage students, but glad enough her response made Eddie smile. 

“Okay, good, I think that, too.” He giddily adjusted in his chair.

“But remember, Eddie, don’t determine your happiness on the basis of this person.” Ms. Kelly reminded. “Root that within yourself, because if things don’t… work out in a sense, we don’t want you losing that progress.”

“No, I know.” He quietly muttered, as his hand rubbed the slight stubble of his chin. “That, uh, that’s actually one of things that really scared me into getting help, I guess. See, remember those, um, terrible things I did when, y’know, they said they didn’t want me around?” She nodded her head gently to allow him to continue. “I, um- my dad would do those things. Like, whenever my mom had done something he didn’t like, he would just get plastered, say these gross things, and then, um, start…hitting.” Eddie huffed out a large breath that burned his chest. “And seeing me be that- be my dad- becoming him was just a scary reality check that I’m just like him, a-and I don’t want to be. I spent years wishing so hard that I wouldn’t be, y’know, that I wouldn’t be those kids who turned into their parents, that Wayne taught me better than that, but there I fucking was scaring her- them, scaring them. Sorry.” He cleared him through shamefully as he got worked up.

“Don’t be sorry, Eddie.” She smiled. “This is your moment to let your thoughts and feelings be known. And by hearing you, I want you to leave today’s session vitalizing the importance that you are not your father. You’re not your mother, either. Or your uncle, or anyone for that matter. Eddie, you are you. There is a pattern within you that wavers from trying so hard to stray away from hurting others like your parents did to you, to straying away from the possibility of getting hurt like your parents did to you. And it’s wonderful that you’re recognizing that, but you need to understand that you’re merely getting stuck in an endless cycle of trying to satisfy those end goals, that your mind is running in circles and blurring the line between what's working and what’s not, and it’s doing harm.”

Eddie chewed on his thumb nail taking in the revelation. “I don’t know how to fix that.” He defeatedly admitted. 

“You need to not be driven by fear, Eddie.” Ms. Kelly answered. “That image of your father is a scary thing to come to terms with, and I’m not saying you’re wrong for being terrified of it, because it truly was a dark part of your life, but you need to face it rather than run from it. You mentioned that you and your uncle rarely speak of the life you once had with your parents, and that suppression- that shut in, that’s what’s inhibiting you from growing to be someone that is not like your father or mother. Your upbringing has rooted a fear in you that’s scared of being hurt, and it’s not unusual, the majority of the world is scared at the possibility of being hurt, but the majority don't acknowledge that that fear is the cause of why our personal progress is being stunted. No one wants the uncomfortable conversations. No one wants to face the reality of the world. But the truth is Eddie, it’s better to be hurt organically by the troubles of the world rather than self-destruct our minds under the guise that we’re protecting ourselves. It’s good to focus on oneself, but we need to understand when we’re crossing that boundary into self-immolation, which is far more scary.”

Eddie Munson had sat in silence for a minute to digest her words. “And that’s what I’m doing.” He whispered to himself.

“But you’re getting help.” Ms. Kelly interjected his thoughts with a delicate smile. “And that’s far more progress than most people get to.”

“I think, uh, I think it really, I don’t know, frustrates me that I didn’t understand that in the first place. Because, well, I mean, even you know I’m not the smartest person around-”

“Academic intelligence has nothing to do with this, Eddie.” Ms. Kelly assured. “Even the smartest people have difficulty understanding their problems.”

“Yeah, I guess what I’m trying to say is that… I just get angry that I can’t be smart enough to figure this stuff out. Like, I know you said this isn’t based on intelligence, it’s just that when things don’t work out the way I want them to, and it turns out my plans were actually stupid, I just get so aggravated with myself, and then I get so aggravated with the other person for not doing as I want, even though it’s not their fault.” He released a puff of air from his cheeks at the admission 

“Would you say your anger has become an issue?”

Eddie huffed a shameful chuckle. “God, how much of an ass would I be if I said yes? Sorry for the language, Ms. K, but I really am such an asshole. Pretty cynical, too. And nihilistic. Pessimistic. A person even said I was a sulking asshole if the picture wasn’t clear enough for you.” He nodded with a tight-lipped smile.

And though it may have been a little unprofessional, Ms. Kelly allowed herself a small chuckle at his words. “Well, those are quite some characteristics to have.” She kindly joked. “How often do your efforts result to violence, Eddie? Is it a gradual transition from yelling to hitting for you?”

“Uh, yeah, it definitely is.” He sighed. “I mean, I think you’re aware of how many fights I’ve been pushed into-”

“Would you say you cause most of them?”

“Um, not necessarily cause, more so… provoke.” He laughed.

“Instigate for a reaction?” Ms. Kelly questioned.

And with a snap and point of his finger, Eddie agreed. “Ooh, yeah! Instigate for a reaction sounds a lot better.” He smiled before doubling down. “But, uh, totally know I shouldn’t. It’s just… kinda fun.”

“Fun?”

“Well, yeah, y’know, most people at this school don’t like me.” Eddie emphasized. "Even the teachers don’t. And, I guess, poking fun at the groups of people who hate me kinda shows them I don’t care, if that makes sense? Like I can make fun of them just as they do to me and my friends. So, I guess getting angry does kinda happen often, and it does always seem to escalate. If people aren’t listening to my yelling, then they’ll definitely listen to me fighting them, y’know?”

“Is that what happened during last week’s cafeteria incident when you hit another student?”

“Basically.” Eddie nodded. “The dude, he was just spewing a bunch of bullshit about someone, and well, when I told him to shut up and tried to “save the day,” I guess, my anger definitely got out of hand and I punched the guy. Honestly, I hate the guy, so I had no problem doing it, but I also thought that I was, uh, stopping the other person that he was talking about from getting hurt more. Like we, uh, talked about- the thing that I do. And obviously, my judgment was severely off, and well, it only made the situation worse that I only ended up hurting them, too.”

“So you’re seeing where these patterns coincide?” Ms. Kelly asked. 

“Yeah.” Eddie acknowledged. “And if I’m being completely honest, I almost made the same mistake again today.”

“How so?” Her eyebrow raised.

“Uh, well, I almost hit the same guy for bothering that person, again.” He sighed. “Kinda happened right before I got here, actually. It was after school…”

-

The once crowded halls had dissipated into quietness, as the final bell had rung to announce the coming end of the school day fifteen minutes ago. 

Stalling. Stalling is what you were doing under the guise that you were merely reorganizing your locker, and any straggler who walked by would have seen that, given that your locker never approached the definitive line of chaos. But your heart was hammering at the thought of returning to cheer practice, and the coolness radiating off the metal lockers was enough to keep your forehead from sweating. There were no butterflies in your stomach, no, those insects had turned into the pesky creatures of crickets who bounced around with an end goal of causing turbulence in your worrying stomach, like the annoyance they cause during an attempt at peaceful sleep during a quiet night. 

There was something deathly petrifying about high school teenagers. Their judgment. Comments. Bullying. Rumors. You knew now why groups of adults thoroughly went through the endeavors of avoiding them in public spaces. You’d just spent an entire day on the receiving end of their hate, and it was draining. 

At the south end of the hall, the familiar faces of the members of the cheer squad pummeled out of the girls’ bathroom in loud conversations and giggles. You watched them walk together, laugh together, like you once used to do before they made the ultimate decision to lavish in your reputation’s demise. But as you followed their movements into the grand doors of the Hawkins High gymnasium, your attention had diverged you from the impeding steps of an deranged man’s end goal in mind, and the sudden slam of your locker door closing left you snapping your head to meet Jason Carver’s huffing breath before he cornered you against the lockers. 

Nostrils flared with heaving sighs, his forehead pressed down against yours until your head shoved harshly onto the metal. “You think you’re funny telling Chrissy to leave me?! Huh?!”

Eddie Munson had been on his second cigarette of the day, waiting in the sanctitude of his van, just as he did in the early hours of the morning before school started. But where a pervade of parked cars and students once rested, just an empty parking lot stood, and it provided him the peace of mind to gather the thoughts he want to speak about before he entered the counselor’s room and sat down with Ms. Kelly for what had become their fourth daily session. He grew to like Ms. Kelly a lot. So when the digits of watch striked green of the numbers of 3:45 p.m, Eddie put out the shortening cigarette onto the pavement of the ground, and entered the school building, so as to not be late for their meeting. He’d grown to respect her too much to contempt the time she chose to work overtime just for him. 

“Get off of me!” You pushed his chest away, allowing him to stumble and put some distance between you two. “I didn’t tell Chrissy to do anything!”

“Bullshit! Everyone saw you two hanging together at lunch, and conveniently right after she broke up with me! Do you really think I’m that stupid?” His reddening face started walking closer to you, but you kept up with his movements, as the adrenaline in your system moved your feet back with every inch of him coming closer.

“Chrissy broke up with you because you’re an asshole, not because of anything I told her!” You stressed. “God, literally look at what you’re doing, what you did to me- to anyone who’s different from you, of course, she doesn’t want to be with you anymore!”

“Everything I’m doing is for her! It’s your fucking fault I have to stoop this low!” He screamed. “You wanna be a slut and fuck around with that freak, then fine by me, but I will not let you drag Chrissy down with you!”

As unfortunate as the situation was, Eddie Munson strolled in at the perfect time. Upon opening the double, glass doors of the school, he was impaled by the screaming match happening between you two. The second his eyes landed on your fraught face, that anger- that anger that seethed with vexation at the need to protect you from getting hurt was coursing through his bloodstream with a strangulating wave of worry that was going to hurtle its way through any obstacle to make sure you were okay; just as it occurred when Jason Carver ambushed you in the cafeteria, just as it occurred when your father ambushed you in your bedroom.

Eddie was desperate to ensure your safety and security. 

Too distracted by the yelling words of Jason Carver, and with the jocks back turned away from Eddie’s stature, his presence went unnoticed until his ring hand clenched around the collar of his letterman jacket, and threw him up against the lockers with a bang.

“Are you fucking bothering her?” His calm voice gritted through his teeth, as Eddie pinned him to the wall. “Because last time that happened, it didn’t turn out so well for you, did it?” The threat lingered heavily in Jason’s head. The Hawkins High Tigers were paving their way through playoffs, and the championship game was right at their fingertips, but the crashing sting of Eddie Munson’s ringed fist on his face or body could hinder the basketball team's progress. 

“Eddie.” Your quiet voice lulled him away from the worries of Jason, and he watched your distressed figure of cinched brows and a chewed up lip trembling feet away from the violence of angry men. 

Eddie dropped his hold from Jason’s jacket, and stared down at the comb-over that peered up to him with irritated eyes. “You come near her again, and you’ll be fucking dead.” He whispered, far too quiet for your ears to pick on, and he did that with honest intentions. 

But before Jason could curse the words he wanted into Eddie’s face, the heavy doors of gym opening turned everyone’s attention to Chrissy Cunningham and cheer coach, Coach Hannigan, who walked out with large smiles—though Chrissy’s dropped faster than the speed of light upon seeing the three of you uncomfortably together.

“Oh,” Chrissy squeaked with confusion, but enough pep to let Coach Hannigan believe all was good. “Um, there- there’s Y/N.” Chrissy hesitantly smiled, as that had been the entire reason why the two of them walked out in the first place, to find you.

“There’s my girl!” If there was anyone who truly showed their support for the girls of Hawkins High, it was Coach Hannigan, who dedicated her faculty years to teaching the inner workings of American Literature by day and coached her girls to be the best representative of the school, because she believed you all deserved to be seen by night. “It’s been far too long! That Higgins doesn’t know what he’s doing, am I right?” Her boisterous laugh echoed through the halls, as you, Eddie, and Jason tried to appear as normal as can be. “When I got news of what he did to you, I was like "man, excessive much." I think we’re all counting the days until he retires, ha!” She spoke enthusiastically, as she patted you on the shoulder, which is when she took notice of Jason Carver and Eddie Munson looking nervously uncomfortable. “Woah, odd pairing.” She joked to you, to which you had to join in with an awkward laugh, Eddie and Jason abruptly separated under her comment. “You lot, okay?” Her colloquial use of British slang with her deep Midwestern accent was surely fitting to the oddity that was Coach Hannigan, but my god, was it comforting in a time like this.

“Just fine.” Jason muttered. “Better get to practice.” He raked his hand to adjust the hairs Eddie had disturbed during their minor push and shove, before walking away past everyone. 

“Well, I guess we should, too!” Coach Hannigan signaled over to you and Chrissy to get along. “I’m tired of seeing that dang Jessica girl tryin’ to stay steady in air, dangnamit.”

As the three of you walked away, you turned back to meet Eddie’s anxious eyes. His fears racking in his mind, wondering if he’d just done the very thing you asked him not to do, overstep. He didn’t want to scare you anymore. He didn’t want to hurt you anymore. But he believed his being was doing you more harm than good, and his stomach churned at the possibility that maybe you’d be better off if he just got out of your life and left you alone. But in a blink of an eye, Eddie watched your small hand aim him a subtle thumbs up with an ever so tiny grin. Eddie released the breath he’d been holding in. 

Everything was going to be okay.

-

“You know, Eddie, if you’re watching someone be harassed, it’s okay to tell me.” Ms. Kelly calmly responded.

“I-” Eddie dejectedly sighed, as he leaned back in his chair. “I know I should, it’s just, y’know, they don’t even know I’m talking about them to you, hell, I haven’t even had a full conversation with them today. I don’t know how long they want to continue this “no communication” stuff, and I really don’t want to make them feeling like I’m, I don’t know, betraying their boundaries. I’ve done a lot to them already.”

“Well,” Ms. Kelly huffed, “if you do get a chance to speak with this person, just know it’s okay to encourage them to speak to me.” She smiled. 

“Yeah, yeah, thanks.” Eddie relaxed. 

“Can I ask you, Eddie, is the reason why you didn’t choose violence with this bully because of this particular person?”

“Uh, yeah.” He answered. ‘Like I said, last time I did, it really hurt this person because of how much the situation blew up. And, uh, I just really don’t think they like the… hatefulness that comes with hitting. Like they're scared of it, and I don't want to scare them anymore.”

“Are you scared of it? The violence?” She questioned. 

“Honestly, no- the, uh, physical stuff, no, I have no issue with it. When I was younger, yeah, obviously, I was a kid, but now, um, I know getting violent kinda let’s people know not to mess with me, I guess.”

“Because it gets you your way.”

Eddie winced at the truth behind the comment. When you had hung up on him that fateful night, aggression had surged within Eddie, because you were slipping through the cracks of weakness. Doing your own thing. Making your own decision. Doing the right thing. It was great, but it was something Eddie couldn’t come to terms with. It was why he chose the inebriations of alcohol to throw him over the precipice of sanity and persuaded him to do the actions he knew were wrong. But he couldn’t do that sober. His moral compass wouldn’t allow that. It’s the only reason why he showed up to your window in a drunken haze. Because Eddie Munson couldn’t understand. He couldn’t understand his feelings. His thoughts. Why his mother always stayed with his father when that man was doing far worse, and you were choosing to give up on him so easily. Verbalizing the words in his head made him want to throw up, because he knew how disgusting it was to think like that. 

“God, I hate hearing that.” He murmured in shame, as his fingers stressfully brushed over his eyebrows.

“But it’s true? At least to some extent?” Ms. Kelly delicately asked. He could only nod his head in agreement to her statements. “Your mother, Eddie, if you don’t mind me asking, what would she do whenever your father got violent?” 

He sadly sighed. “She’d just, y’know, take it. Would only get worse if she didn’t.”

“Yeah,” Ms. Kelly shook her head along, as his words confirmed the ideas in her head. “Eddie, seeing that at any age, let alone as a child, can be truly detrimental to the mind and its development. What I’m evaluating is that your father’s intolerable acceptance to the word “no” has manifested onto you. Witnessing your father’s beratement and abuse, and your mother’s inability to leave has decisively skewed your perception and ego to lead you to believing you are entitled to have things- have people do as you say, and when they don’t, you lash out… like you were taught to do.”

Eddie’s stomach sank at the admission of Ms. Kelly’s findings. The truth laid in her words, and Eddie Munson was coming to terms with the fact that there were aspects of his being that truly did not make him a good person. Was there room for improvement? Yes, there was, and that was the whole purpose of Ms. Kelly’s evaluation. It was not to point the finger and ridicule him. No, it was to lay the foundation to discovering the ugly truths behind what makes us us, and unfortunately for Eddie Munson, his upbringing of hatred and abuse had developed him into an angry man yearning for what? Stability. Maybe you and Eddie Munson were a lot more alike than you both realized. 

“Eddie, I’m going to revert back to what I previously said, I want you leaving today’s session vitalizing the importance that you are not your father.” Ms. Kelly reiterated, and Eddie shuttered a breath. “Your decisions may reflect his, but you’re seeking help. You’re talking about your problems. You’re ready to put the work in and make a change.”

“I’m not him.” Eddie spoke to himself. 

“No, you’re not.” Ms. Kelly smiled. “You’re a good person who was left to make bad decisions. Don’t let your father take control of your life. Don’t give him that power. Face your fear of him, and don’t give him the authority to let you become a bad person. You are not him.”

Eddie nodded his head, absorbing the words of today’s session, as their hour-long conversation was coming to its last minutes. “Thank you.” He softly gave his gratitude, just as he did at the end of every meeting. 

“Like always, Eddie, it’s no problem. Was there anything else you wanted to mention before you leave for the day?” He gently shook his head, spilling all that he could and digesting every truth and advice his brain could handle. Today had been a good day. And he really needed that.

“No, I think I’m okay.” He assured her with a small smile, as he stood and adjusted her chair back to its original position.

“Can I expect you tomorrow afternoon?” She asked.

“Uh, yeah, I can make it.” He answered after slight deliberation. Corroded Coffin wasn’t expected until well into the night, and he was surely certain his buzzing crowd of five drunks wouldn’t mind if the guitarist ran a little late for their weekly taste of garage metal.

With a bid farewell, Eddie left Ms. Kelly's office with a heavy mind. 

Ms. Kelly had delicately put away his file before making a mental note to speak with Jason Carver first thing in the morning about his harmful actions. Eddie’s attempt at anonymity hadn’t thoroughly worked out in his favor. Ms. Kelly knew of the cafeteria incident, and who it involved. Ms. Kelly knew of Jason’s infamous reputation. She’d received a number of saddened students in her office who had fallen victim to his words. She was able to place the puzzles of his story with ease, though never announced it for his comfort. She would be sure to have a long talk with Jason the following morning. And she’d be sure to be on the lookout for you whenever you were ready to talk. Again, Eddie was quite oblivious to the obvious nature of anonymity. But at least he meant well.

Approaching the doors to the school, Eddie was already yanking his pack of cigarettes from his jacket, ready to finish the evening off with his third of the day. That was until he stepped outside, and saw you waiting at the entrance in your practice clothes, leading him to getting flushed with a wave of deja vu, as you looked exactly as you did the day you took his picture. 

You turned at the opening of double doors, an endearing smile posing on your face as you saw him abruptly stop at the doorway. “Oh, hey.” You waved to him kindly. Holy shit, you were actually speaking to him. You know, Eddie Munson had dedicated the entirety of his weekend rehearsing what he wanted to say to you, the right words and everything, he’d even came up with a short script of lines as to what to say that were currently residing in the back pocket of his pants, but it was long forgotten by this point, and he couldn’t muster up a single word. You giggled at his frozen state, “You can say “hi” back, Eddie, it’s okay.”

But instead of a greeting, Eddie had walked up to you frantically. “Look, I’m so sorry, I swear I’m not, like, following you around or anything. I was just coming back from a-”

“Hey, Eddie, it’s okay, really.” You softly nodded. “I didn’t think you were.”

He swallowed thickly, unsure of what to say exactly, so he landed on a simple “How have you been?”

“I’ve been… decently okay.” You shrugged.

“Getting okay?” He awkwardly asked.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “slowly but surely. Trying to, at least.”

“Y’know, if you wanted to, you could always talk with Ms. Kelly.” He sincerely spoke. “She’s, uh, she’s helped with a lot. I just, um- we just finished my fourth session. I’ve been seeing her since Thursday.”

You cocked your head in surprise. “Really?” He nodded his quickly. “You’ve been talking to the counselor?” You briefly spoke with Chrissy about her weekly sessions, but it had never been something you dived into for the sake of her privacy. Seeing Eddie Munson turn to therapy was exceeding beyond the expectations of what you had subconsciously set for him when you told him to get better.

“Yeah, it’s been helping me process things- my emotions n’ all.” Eddie smiled, because just last week, that would have been something he would have been embarrassed to admit. 

“That- that’s really great, Eddie. I’m proud of you.” Your eyes twinkled with admiration for his effort. “Yeah, I’ll definitely think about it.”

Once again, Eddie’s brain was short-circuiting under your highlighted features that were glowing from the setting sun. You could visibly make out his eyes raking your face before quicking peering into the parking lot, as to not look so creepy. “So… uh, did practice- is practice over already? You waiting for a ride? Need one?”

“Coach Hannigan let us out early after Jessica Lewis puked all over the field.” You laughed, as he grimaced. “The school’s lunch choice of lasagna was definitely not cut out for tumbling. But, uh, I’m just waiting for Chrissy.” You pointed across the parking lot, where Chrissy was speaking with her father. “I convinced my dad to let us have dinner at Benny’s Diner, and now she’s trying to convince hers.”

“Ah,” Eddie nodded, “y’know, speaking of lunch, uh, Dustin had some pretty- pretty interesting things to say about his little visit to your table.” He smirked behind a piece of his hair that he decided to play with to ease his nerves. 

You giggled at his antics. “Did he now?” You played around.

“Yeah, he said, uh- the little shrimp said you called him a cutie. Like absolutely wrote it out and everything.” He felt giddy inside that he was making you laugh right now. “And, hey, y’know me, I’m totally not the jealous type or whatever, but that little shit sure did have a blast rubbing it in my face.”

Despite the burn in your cheeks, you couldn’t stop the giggles that were coming out. “Oh, that reminds me,” you opened and dug around your cheer bag, pulling out a damn yearbook, “Nancy had stopped me before the end of the school day and gifted me this bad boy. You wanna be the first to sign it?”

Eddie’s eyebrows had creased his forehead with their sudden rising. “Really? Me?”

“Yeah,” you handed him the book with a retrieved pen from your backpack, where he began his work, “it’ll also give you good leverage over Dustin, and he’ll be begging to sign mine once he finds out you did.”

Eddie laughed, as he scribbled onto the white page of the book. “Y’know, if you need me to talk to Nancy, I could probably convince her to let you back on the committee.”

“Are you crazy?” You huffed out a chuckle. “I committed treason against Nancy Wheeler, I’ve been exiled from the land of Yearbook Committee, there’s no hope of going back for me.” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He smiled, as he continued his writing.

“Do you have a really long middle name I don’t know about?” You tried peaking over the book, but he simply scooted away. “Hey, what’s taking you so long?”

“I gotta make this special for you, sweetheart.” He grinned over to you. “Not every day a pretty girl asks me to sign their yearbook.” 

You bit your lip to suppress the ever growing smile on your face, as your cheeks heated with fluster. And soon after, Eddie finally handed back your yearbook, where you were met his three-worded message, and an adorable little sketch of a pretty princess being protected by her knight in shining armor—coincidently sporting the lushes locks of a very metal hairstyle—who was saving her from the scary, large dragon:

For the prettiest princess in the land - E.M

Your finger delicately traced his harsh lines, and Eddie melted as he noticed your beaming smile shining brighter than the sun. “I, uh, I would totally let you sign mine, but see, I’m actually protesting the Yearbook Committee for the human rights violation they oppressed onto their ex-member. Totally standing in solidarity for her. And it’s definitely not because I can’t afford one.” He smirked.

“Oh, yeah, no, I totally get it.” you giggled. “Don’t worry, we’ll revolt against the tyrants of the student body government for their complicit association, and overthrow them for the proletariat.”

Oh my god, you were going to make his knees give out. 

Eddie rubbed his face with his hands to get it together, but his reddening face was peaking through his cracking facade of staying collected, and you loved it.

“Y’know, Dustin had also mentioned something else during lunch… something about you wanting to marry-”

“Y/N!” Chrissy shouted and waved over. “He said yes, come on!”

You turned to Eddie with the biggest teasing grin on your face. “Oh, saved by the cheerleader. Guess we’ll never know.” You smirked.

“You little-”

“I’ll see you around, Eddie, bye-bye!” You waved him off.

“Have a good night, princess.” He smiled back.

“Be careful,” You pointed to the pack of cigarettes that lingered in his hand. “I don't want you getting sick from those. That’d be awful, Eddie!” You shouted, as you walked away to Chrissy’s father’s car.

Eddie Munson had to run away immediately, his knees were beginning to buckle.

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | @sierrahhh @harrysgothicbitch @niallerlover8022 @aunicornmademedoit @spring-picnics @sleepy-bunnie @eggo-segual @bambi-horror @aheadfullofsteverogers @sademoloser @freakymunson @princess-eddie @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @negativity4you @nope-thanks @allsortsedits @callingmrsbarnes @f0rgggg @hurricane-abigail @sweet-sunflower64

@redlovett @goldstars-to-all @eddiesguitarskills @goslytherin @sashaphantomhive @maxinehufflepuffprincess @emeritusemeritus @angel-upon @middle-of-the-earth @scarletwitchwhore @my-tearsricochet @pixiepaintt @ericasdumbworld @animechick555 @gewrgia-black @hookandchain @roseanddaggerlarry @prestinalove @sebismyhubby @maddsunn

@zoeymunson @corrcdedcoffin @sweetmariihs2 @thefemininemystiquee @monserat @findmeincorneliastreet @sheneedsrocknroll92 @silent-stories @batkin028 @btbabyy

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 2.4k ❧ warnings: cursing, random old man makes reader uncomfy for 0.2 seconds (using real dialogue that a random old man said to me irl) ❧ genre: fluff, enemies to lovers (or are they…), secret dating, getting stuck on a ferris wheel together

“What are you doing?” You asked him through gritted teeth, making sure to whisper quiet enough that hopefully nobody else could hear you.

Sungchan yawned loudly, stretching out his arms until one was wrapped around your shoulders. “Gosh, just got tired all of a sudden.”

You were going to kill Shotaro. As soon as you got down from this Ferris Wheel.

A trip to a pop-up fair on the coast with all your friends had somehow turned into your worst nightmare. The line for the Ferris Wheel was long enough that you’d darted into the restroom while everyone else held your group’s place. Upon your return, though, it seemed that everybody had divided themselves into pairs, leaving you with the odd man out: Sungchan. After pleading with every single one of your friends to switch with you, you got six no’s in a row. Including, incredibly, Anton and Shotaro. You were going to kill Shotaro in particular, who had pulled you aside and suggested that maybe you and Sungchan could finally get over your long-running disdain for each other, because that confirmed your suspicions of this being intentional.

The Ferris Wheel getting stuck, however, you doubted your friends had anything to do with, unless they had bribed the college kid operating it while neither you nor Sungchan were looking.

So now you were perched at the top of a Ferris Wheel, all of your friends in the carts ahead of you, trying not to look at the boy next to you.

“Hey, Y/N, we want Sungchan to make it down in one piece, okay?” Shotaro called up to you.

“Do we?” Seunghan snickered from two cars in front of you.

“Okay, less than five pieces, how about that?”

“I’m going to kill you guys, you know that, right?” You snapped, leaning forward over the lap bar to try to look any of them in the face.

Your sudden jerking only succeeded in making your cart sway precariously, and you let out a squeal as you scrambled back in your seat to safety.

“You’re going to kill us both like that, Y/N,” Sungchan scoffed.

You didn’t respond, simply crossing your arms over your chest and looking in the opposite direction from him again, out to the ocean. From up here you could smell the salt on the seabreeze, hear the calls of seagulls down on the shoreline, and watch the waves as they rolled in. The rest of your friends had gone back to chatting among themselves, paying you and Sungchan no mind.

Which was when you felt the boy next to you slowly slide closer to you, until your sides were pressed up against each other.

“Beautiful view,” Sungchan murmured in your ear.

“What are you doing?” You asked him through gritted teeth, making sure to whisper quiet enough that hopefully nobody else could hear you.

He yawned loudly, stretching out his arms until one was wrapped around your shoulders. “Gosh, just got tired all of a sudden.”

“Wonbin and Sohee are right there.” You pointed to the two heads right by your feet. If they looked over their shoulders, you were sure they’d be able to at least see Sungchan’s change in position.

“And you and I are right here.” The cocky smile was audible in his voice. “Come on, you wouldn’t rob a guy of the perfect opportunity to kiss his girl at the top of the Ferris Wheel, would you?”

“Maybe I would.”

“Funny, what was it you said in the House of Mirrors? ‘No, not yet, just a little longer…’” You could feel the curl of his smirk against the shell of your ear as he kept his voice low. He was of course referring to earlier in the day when the two of you got “lost” in the House of Mirrors, letting your friends wander far ahead of you. You had yanked Sungchan into an out-of-the-way dead end, and came back out with sore lips.

“It was dark in there!” You hissed.

“Okay…” He sighed, his fingertips smoothing circles into the skin of your upper arm. “I guess you really do hate me…”

“Sorry, whose genius idea was it to not tell our friends?” You snorted. “You sure you don’t hate me and want to hide me?”

“Of course not.” He dropped kisses to the crown of your head, then your temple, your cheekbone, your cheek, and finally the corner of your mouth. “Want to keep you all to myself, baby.”

You finally turned enough to look over at Sungchan, perfectly aglow in the sun, and your worst fears came true. He just looked too good, you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing his collar and crashing your lips together. He groaned immediately, a sound that you hoped was muffled by your mouth, as he simultaneously pushed you even further into the corner of the Ferris Wheel seat and pulled you closer by the arm he had around you.

Sungchan still tasted like the cotton candy he’d bought earlier, the sugary sweetness permeating the kiss more and more as his tongue sought out yours. You, meanwhile, had faint remnants of popcorn on your lips, turning it salty and sweet. Small whimpers slipped past your open mouth as he nibbled on your bottom lip, and one of your hands tangled in the hair at the back of his hand, trying to ground yourself to something as it felt very much like you were going to float away at any moment.

You ignored the distant voices of your friends trying to play ‘I Spy’ or some word game or other. Using just a second to breathe, you pressed your lips to his again, taking kiss after kiss after kiss while you could.

Suddenly, the Ferris Wheel started again with a jerk, and you bit down on Sungchan’s lip in surprise. He cursed under his breath, pulling back and cradling his mouth, and you were left with a faint taste of metal. You pecked his cheek and whispered a final ‘sorry’ to him before he scooted back to his side. All of the other passengers had erupted into cheers at finally being free.

Back on the ground, your friends were all waiting for you and Sungchan, being the last two to get off. He was still nursing his wounded lip, tongue flicking over the swollen area habitually.

“Damn, Sungchan,” Seunghan whistled lowly and grabbed his chin, tilting his head this way and that to get a better look. “Y/N deck you in the mouth or something?”

“Why do you people always act like I’m going to kill him or something?” You huffed. “I’m not homicidal.”

“Maybe because you say ‘Sungchan, I’m going to kill you’ like ten times a day?” Sohee pointed out.

Sungchan knocked the other boy’s hand away. “I bit my lip when the ride started again. I’m fine.”

“Did you guys hear anything weird, by the way?” Eunseok asked, looking directly at you and Sungchan.

“No.” You said at the same time that Sungchan said, “Weird how?”

“We could hear somebody sucking faces like, the whole time. I think it was the couple behind you guys.” Eunseok and Seunghan had been in the cart ahead of Wonbin and Sohee.

“Yeah!” Sohee perked up. “I thought I heard something weird!”

“You two really didn’t hear anything?” Wonbin raised an eyebrow curiously.

“Yeah, it was like, nasty.” Sohee pretended to gag.

Your skin was on fire, and you tried to shrug and play it off as coolly as possible. “I don’t know, guys, I was trying to block out the experience, not eavesdrop on whoever may or may not have been making out behind me or whatever.”

“Ditto,” Sungchan coughed.

“The first time they agree on something,” Shotaro grumbled, shaking his head.

A little while later found you all perusing the area where various vendors were selling trinkets and cheesy souvenirs. The guys had gotten more food and were taking a break from rides so they could eat it. You were looking over a display of fridge magnets displaying the fair’s logo and many different mascot characters when you suddenly registered a presence walking towards you. Thinking that it was another patron of the booth trying to get by you, you pressed yourself further into the corner to get out of their way, but instead the man stopped right in front of you.

“Man, if I was thirty years younger…” He breathed out, lecherous stare clearly going up and down your body.

You let out a nervous chuckle, desperately looking around both for your easiest route of escape and for where exactly your friends were. Most of them were several booths down the row, engrossed in watching some other guy play a basketball shooting game. You couldn’t even spot Sungchan’s tall head over the crowd.

“Uhm, thank you, but I have a boyfriend,” you nodded and smiled awkwardly, trying to step out to the side of him to go around him, but he met your move to stay in front of you.

“Hey, we were just talking.”

“I said I have a boyfriend.”

“Then where is he? Shouldn’t have left a pretty thing like you alone.”

“I’m going back to my friends,” you told him, setting your jaw as you looked to duck out behind you instead.

The man’s patience was clearly wearing thin, too, as he growled, “I’m not done with you.”

Then, you finally spotted Sungchan emerging from right behind the man, pushing by him to stand next to you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders with no hesitation, offering you a smile despite the vein bulging in his neck, “Hey, baby, is there a problem here?”

“Who the fuck—”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” he snapped at the other guy, all kindness gone from his tone and features.

You shifted in place, gratefully pressing yourself into his side. You gulped and nodded, answering his question, “Yeah, I’m having trouble leaving.”

“Then let’s go. No reason why we shouldn’t be able to, right?” He was now glaring daggers at the older man.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Sungchan kept himself between you and the man as he practically shoved him out of the way for you two to leave, hurrying back into the crowd.

“I didn’t see him touch you, did he touch you?” He asked fervently, rubbing your arm.

“No, he didn’t, I just couldn’t leave,” you breathed out in relief at finally being out of there. Leaning your head against him affectionately, you added, “Thanks, Sungchan.”

“I shouldn’t have left you alone, I’m sorry.”

“I’m an adult.”

“Yeah but I’m your—”

“Y/N, oh my god!” Shotaro exclaimed as he and the others ran up to you two at that moment. “Are you okay?”

“We thought you were going get like—” Eunseok made a slicing motion over his neck.

Wonbin smacked him on the arm. “Not helpful.”

“I’m fine, guys, thanks,” you reassured them with a tense smile.

“Good thing Sungchan is scary tall, huh?” Anton laughed.

“Speaking of—” Seunghan eyed Sungchan’s arm that was still around your shoulders. “You can uh, you can let go of Y/N now, Sungchan.”

“Yeah, the guy is gone,” Sohee confirmed, jumping up and down to see over the crowd. “You don’t have to pretend to be her boyfriend or whatever.”

“At this rate I’m pretty sure Y/N’s going to start screaming for help again,” Anton snickered.

Judging by the tight grip he had on you, you already knew that he wasn’t letting go of you anytime soon. You gazed up at him questioningly. He patted your shoulder, and that was the final reassurance you needed.

“Sungchan wasn’t pretending to be my boyfriend,” you admitted, bracing yourself for their reactions. “He is my boyfriend.”

Dead silence. They all blinked, and looked at you, and looked at each other, and looked at Sungchan, and looked at each other, and looked at you again.

“Wait, for real?” Eunseok asked.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Like, actually?” Wonbin double-checked.

“Yes.”

Seunghan looked you in the eye very seriously. “Y/N, blink twice if you need help.”

Sungchan rolled his eyes and held up both his palms where they were at on either side of you so they could see his hands. “I’m not holding her at gunpoint, jeez.”

“Seriously, guys,” you laughed. “We’re not messing with you.”

“So all the fighting… It was fake?” Shotaro rubbed his temples, presumably remembering all the times he’d felt the need to step in and break up your little arguments.

“Not really?” You half-answered. “I mean, we really do bicker like, all the time.”

“But not because we hate each other’s guts,” Sungchan added.

“Sorry.”

“Ha!” Eunseok fist-pumped victoriously, then pointed to everyone else. “Alright, pay up, bitches.”

They all started groaning and refusing loudly.

“Come on, don’t be sore losers.”

“No, you said they hated each other to cover up secret crushes on each other,” Anton argued. “You said nothing about a secret relationship.”

“Exactly!” Sohee agreed. “We don’t owe you shit!”

“Same difference!” Eunseok scoffed.

“Big difference!” Wonbin resisted.

Nudging Sungchan with your elbow, you then locked eyes with him, and immediately knew you had the same idea. Right as the two of you turned around and started walking off, however, the loud, accusatory voice of Shotaro called after you.

“Woah, woah, woah, where are you two going?” He was glaring at you with his hands on his hips, reminding you an awful lot of your mother.

“If you guys are just going to keep arguing, we’re going to the games.” You jabbed your thumb over your shoulder in the general direction of all the games.

“I’ve got to win my girl something, obviously,” Sungchan explained, smiling down at you.

You snorted. “If you even can.”

“That doesn’t sound like a girl who wants me to win her the huge cow Squishmallow she was totally eyeing earlier,” he teased, loudly kissing the top of your head several times in a row.

Eunseok gasped and pointed at you accusatorily. “Oh my god, it was you two sucking faces on the Ferris Wheel earlier! Wasn’t it?!”

You figuratively and literally bit your tongue, opting not to answer directly.

“I’m going to puke,” Sohee announced, covering his mouth.

“Anyway, you guys are welcome to find us whenever you’ve figured out your whole bet thing,” Sungchan offered, gesturing to all of them. “If it’s worth anything, I think Eunseok was sort of right.”

“And he totally owes us half his winnings,” you said, then gave them all a cheery wave. “Bye!”

As the two of you took off towards the games, the other six devolved into loud bickering again, mostly ganging up against Eunseok, with the occasional comment about Eunseok giving some of his money to you and Sungchan.

“That should keep them occupied for a good thirty minutes at least,” Sungchan sighed with content.

“Are we bad people?” You questioned.

“Maybe a little.”

“Thirty minutes should be enough for you to win me that cow, right?”

“As if you even need to ask, baby.”

⤷ blog masterlist

[kentopedia]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SHADES OF RED — nanami kento

summary . . . kento tries to move on, but he sees you in every shade of red

contents . . . ex-boyfriend nanami, nanami pov, f!reader, reader is only mentioned but she loves the color red, suggestive part at the end, kento has a new gf but :/ he wants you bad — 700 words

notes . . . erm this is so self indulgent btw ! everyone around me laughs at me for only getting my nails done the color red and this was born bc i got my nails done today. in my yearning!kento era ig <33 he can miss us instead of the other way around smh

kento had never considered himself a sentimental man.

he’d always had the keen ability to let go of things easily—or, at least, to let go of them without too much regret. he’d never been overly emotional about things that served as reminders to his past. kento could’ve passed his childhood home and, sure, he’d feel a twinge of nostalgia. but it was one that he’d get over once he was out of the neighborhood, on his way to something different, somewhere better.

perhaps, it was a lack of sentimentality, or perhaps his future orientation was just a mechanism to help him cope with the ever-changing thing he called life. 

too bad that approach never worked when it came to you. 

even after you broke up with him, kento saw you everywhere he went. four years together was too much time, and time wasn’t enough to wash away the smell of your perfume, the love letters you’d written that he’d shoved away. kento still had a few of your belongings you’d never come back for. pieces of jewelry you’d left behind, and he’d never been able to get rid of. 

your pretty red lipstick still stained the corner of his sofa, the tiny little smear where you’d accidentally dropped the tube.

you’d apologized, embarrassed, so flustered he thought you might cry. but he’d only laughed instead, pushed the cap back on, and kissed the lipstick right back off your face. 

it had been his fault anyways.

your golden bracelet still hung with his watches, interlaced with rubies and diamonds. an anniversary gift he’d gotten you, and one that you’d thrown at him angrily when you finally left him. 

there was a red ribbon in the center console of his car, one that he’d left there in case you ever forgot a hair tie. 

there were reminders of you everywhere, there was red everywhere. the color of the passion, and the color of the fiery love that had burned bright between you. 

he saw you everywhere…

even in his new girlfriend. 

the first time gojo met her, he told kento how much she looked like you. maybe a little bit taller, her hair a little bit different. her lips were wider, eyes a slightly different shade.

still, the similarities were striking. and she’d never know.

besides all of the red, kento had erased whatever traces of you he could find, kept them locked up in a pretty burgundy box that was tucked away in his closet. 

and maybe she was similar to you in appearance, but she was gentler, softer, and she had an affinity for shades of pink. a light rose color was her favorite.

she probably thought that it bothered him, the obvious sign of femininity taking over his apartment. but kento appreciated that the lacy ribbons she left lying around, the lingerie sets, were much lighter than the color you’d tended towards. 

“kento,” she interrupted his stream of thought, as he stared at the splotch of maroon on his sofa, remembering how you’d stained his cheeks the same color.

he hummed. it’d been nearly six months since he’d seen you last. it’d seemed like longer. 

he shouldn’t miss you this much.

he did, though.

“i’m thinking of getting my nails done.” his new girlfriend—the one that looked like you but wasn’t you—stretched her hands out, looking at the chipped pastel pink at the end of her nails. half of the paint was gone. 

“okay,” he said, shrugging. shades of pink, she lived in. it’d be a shade of pink again.

she looked at her fingers, scrutinizing them like she wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. “i’m not sure it’d suit me, but… what do you think of red?” 

kento’s eyes had drifted over, and for a moment, he contemplated a protest. it didn’t suit her. she was a gentle, sweet soul. her voice soft, words loving—she was pink.

then, he remembered the softness of your palm over his thigh, your fingers threaded in his hair. nails longer, filed perfectly, a beautiful red color painted onto them. 

he missed you.

he felt guilty for his answer.

“sure, honey,” kento said, smiling. “that’s pretty.” 

when she came home later, kento had pulled her into the bedroom, turned off the lights, the room dark already with the sun that had set. her hands were smaller than yours, fingers more slender, but the color of her nails was the same. 

he could imagine your hands between his legs, stroking him lovingly. and kento had to seal his lips tightly to keep your name from spilling from them when he imagined you instead of her.

“mmm,” his new girlfriend had muttered, snuggling into his side. kento stared at the ceiling, sick with longing. “i love you. night, kento.” 

he didn’t answer.

when she was asleep, kento climbed out of bed, padded to the kitchen with his phone in his hand. it was past midnight, but you tended to stay up later, a book on your lap, with some form of red on the cover. 

his finger hovered over your name; there used to be a red heart next to it, and he wanted to put it back.

he wondered if this would just be another one of those times where his calls went unanswered. or, maybe, this time, you’d pick up. 

kento didn’t care anyway.

he pressed the call button.

[mountttmase]

Don’t Do This

Note - so this is the fic I thought I’d posted but actually never did 🙄not too sure if this is the right time to post anything but I’d really appreciate some feedback on this please 💙

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 5K

Warnings - smut and angst with a smidge of fluff

‘Last day huh?’

‘Yes Chilly, it’s my last day. You know this’ you huffed, looking at him as he stood leaning up against your door frame. ‘Have you come to help carry some boxes?’ You asked, batting your eyelashes in attempts to charm in into helping. It must of worked though as he begrudgingly rolled his eyes, but lifted a few boxes anyway.

‘Do you think I can claim this as extra gym work?’ He laughed, following you down to your car and packing it into the boot. ‘You said goodbye to everyone yet?’

‘Most people’ you nodded, your eyes fluttering down so he couldn’t read your emotions and thankfully he changed the subject for now.

‘It’s not too late to change your mind’ he teased, gently bumping his shoulder into yours making you laugh as you began to walk back inside the building.

‘Since my replacement starts tomorrow, I think it might be’

‘But Cobham won’t be the same without you. Everyone loves you here’ he reasoned, throwing his arm around your shoulder. You looked up at him with a questioning face and he laughed lightly, clearly catching onto what you were implying. ‘Okay well most people do’

‘It’s fine, I can’t be everyone’s cup of tea’ you shrugged ‘I’m not leaving because of him you know, this is a really good opportunity for me’

‘I know I know, I just wish he wasn’t such an arsehole for no reason’ he huffed as you made it back to your office.

‘That’s all of it then, just got a few more emails to go over and I’ll head out’

‘Well I only came up to say goodbye, so get in here’ he laughed as he held his arms out for a hug. ‘Keep in touch yeah? And I mean it. I’m not just saying that cause that’s what you’re supposed to say’

‘I know Chilly, I promise I will’ you told him, voice heavy with emotion as you said goodbye to one of the first boys on the team who spoke to all those months back. Taking you under his wing and showing you around, acting as if he was your work big brother.

You tried to get on with your final few bits of work but you we’re constantly disturbed by people coming to say goodbye, so when the clock struck half six and you were finally done, you weren’t surprised to find the building empty. Eventually you packed up the last of your things, taking the long way out so you could have one last look around the place before heading to the car park.

As you were passing the gym, the door opened to reveal Mason, the only person who hadn’t spoken to you today. In fact he rarely ever did. Your eyes met, both looking shocked to see each other still here before his gaze dropped to the floor like usual.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him though. He hadn’t been around too much due to an injury so you were unsure if he even knew you were going but you couldn’t tell either way due to his usual stand offish nature.

He looked completely different from the last time you’d seen him, the floppy locks that once made home on his head had gone, a pretty harsh buzz cut in its place and you hated the way it made your tummy flip. Mason seemed to harvest a special power in his hair, the longer it got the cuter and more boy next door he looked yet right now like this, he was intimidating but in the best way possible and all you could think about was feeling the back of his head under your fingers. The thought making you blush and you quietly coughed so you could speak to him without making a fool of yourself.

‘H-hi Mason. I heard you were back. How’s the recovery going?’

‘Yeah, fine thanks’ he nodded, chewing on his bottom lip as he still stared down at the floor. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t tear your eyes off of him and his new look or the way his features seemed so much more prominent now. His cheek bones lifted and the the red patch of skin across his nose that you’d always secretly adored was even deeper than before. ‘You off then?’ He questioned quietly, and your heart thumped at the sound of his voice as he finally looked up to meet your gaze. It was unfair how good he looked, the freckles that washed over the tops of his cheeks making you want to reach out and touch him but you stood your ground so you could give him a coherent answer.

‘Yeah, just on my way out now’ you told him and he nodded his head whilst folding his arms.

‘Well, good luck with everything’ he breathed but before you had time to reply, he was walking passed you and off to get changed. You were about to call after him but figured there was no point. As much as he was a delight to everyone else, there seemed to be something about you that he couldn’t get on with. Choosing to keep his distance and only speaking to you when necessary which wasn’t very often. You wondered if you’d done something wrong to make him be like this with you but he’d always been standoffish from the start.

At first you thought it might of been nerves, but once you realised he was only like it with you, you figured you just weren’t his type of person. He was never rude, always giving you a small smile if you saw each other passing in the halls and holding doors open for you if you were around but you wished you’d of got to experience the Mason you saw around other people when he didn’t think you were watching.

You eventually made it to your car, setting the last of your things in the back seat before getting behind the wheel. You went to grab your phone to plug it into the charger but after rummaging around in your bag and realising it wasn’t there you huffed, trudging back inside as you remembered it was still plugged into the socket next to your desk.

After a quick chat in reception to explain why you were heading back in, you opened the door to find Mason sat at your desk, his elbows propped up with head in his hands but as soon as he heard the door creak, he turned to look your way, his glassy eyes staring into your soul as you both froze, not knowing what the other was doing there.

‘I thought you’d gone’ he panicked, standing up but freezing again as if he didn’t know what to do.

‘I forgot my phone’ you breathed, pointing to it sat on the side and he gulped as he looked at it. ‘Why are you in here?’ You questioned softly, carefully stepping towards him but you could see he was panicking and you didn’t want to overwhelm him. ‘Mase, talk to me’

He gulped at the use of his nickname, one you’d never called him to his face and you flushed when you realised. He dragged a hand over his face before looking at you again, his eyes now a little harder now as he looked for an escape route.

‘It doesn’t matter’ he mumbled attempting to walk passed you, but you shut the door and stood in front of it so he couldn’t get past and his brows furrowed a little at he looked at you. ‘What are you doing?’

‘You’re not leaving until you talk to me’

‘You can’t hold me prisoner here, y/n. Just let me go and I won’t tell anyone’

‘As of an hour ago I’m no longer an employee, so there’s not much anyone can do’

‘Come on, just move’ he huffed, attempting to move you but you held your ground. ‘

‘No Mason, you need to tell me-‘

‘What’ he snapped, frustration pouring from him and he turned away from you to walk towards the window. ‘What do you want me to say?’

‘The truth. Why you were in here? And what I ever did to make you hate me whilst your at it’ you spat and he turned back to you full of shock and confusion as he took a few steps towards you.

‘I don’t hate you, why would you think that?’

‘Well you’ve never exactly been friendly with me’ you scoffed and he shut his eyes whist taking a deep breath at having been caught out. ‘I see how you are with everyone else and yeah you’re not a total dick with me but I know you avoid me when you can. Like this is probably the longest conversation we’ve ever had. It’s not exactly a nice felling’ you told him, a hint of hurt in your voice and you felt your eyes fill with tears. You didn’t know you were this upset by it but saying it out loud made you realise your were.

‘Don’t be so bloody stupid’ he snapped his eyes looking desperate and you were about to step out of the way but something inside you told you that you needed to know what he was doing in here. So you stood your ground even though you knew this might end badly. You knew he’d never hurt you but the crazed look in his eyes was egging you on. Thinking he was about to snap and you wanted answers. ‘What do you want me to say y/n? That I feel like a complete twat cause I couldn’t tell you how I really felt? That I can’t talk to you properly cause you make me nervous and I know if I spend time around you then I’ll fall for you? So I kept away from you cause it was against the rules? That I was sat in here cause it’s just hit me I’ve missed my chance and I wanted to feel close to you?’

You were shocked, your eyes growing wider as he laid all his cards on the table. Only realising he’d shared too much when it was too late. He stopped abruptly, his fingers interlocking behind his head as he turned away from you, muttering a a slew of curse words into the air.

‘If that’s the truth, then yeah I want you to say that’

‘Please, y/n. Don’t do this’

‘Fine’ you breathed, opening the door and stepping away. He clearly had some things he needed to work through and holding him hostage was just irritating him even more. You watched him vanish quickly out, biting your lip as your mood sunk even further. You didn’t want this to be your last memory of being here and you were annoyed at him for tainting it.

You grabbed your phone so you could get out of there as quickly as you could and not bump into him again. As soon as you we’re heading to the door, you saw him storming back in, his dark eyes set on you as he grabbed a hold of your face and crashed his lips into yours.

You became paralysed under his touch, his lips moving against yours but you were frozen for a few seconds until yours finally began moving against him. The sound of him kicking the door shut made you jump slightly as your hands traveled to his chest, feeling his heart thrum against your fingers but he walked you backwards until your legs hit the desk behind you.

He lifted you by your thighs and you squealed as you were plonked down, never once taking his lips from yours as he kissed you with all he had. You were unsure at first as to why you were kissing him back, but you knew deep down this is what you were longing from him. Yeah friends would be nice but you’d craved this sort of contact with him from the second you saw him. His new haircut wasn’t exactly helping the situation and with it seemed to of bought a new sense of dominance to him.

You moaned into mouth as he brushed his tongue against yours, the kiss still messy and desperate as your hands traveled down his body and dipped under his shirt. Your palms laid flat on his abs and felt them tense under your touch as he moaned into your mouth before pulling away.

‘Do you trust me?’ He breathed into your mouth as his hands moved to grip you at your waist before his lips trailed down your neck. Did you trust him? When you thought about it, you’re barely knew him but you were too caught up in whatever was happening right now to ruin it so you nodded. He smiled into your neck before helping down and moving you to then hidden area of your office.

That was one thing you’d miss about this office, the L shape of it meant there was a small section hidden out the way when you first walked in and you always used it to your advantage. Keeping a mini fridge and a small sofa there for cheeky afternoon naps. Currently only the latter was there and Mason looked ready to use this to his advantage.

You weren’t sure what was happening so you tugged on the hand he was holding to get him to stop and he turned to face you. His eyes were wild, his cheeks flushed as he started you down with parted lips. You were about to ask him what he was doing when he grabbed your hand before placing it on his crotch. You could feel him hard as a rock underneath your touch and you sucked in a deep breath as your heart hammered at the contact.

‘You have no fucking idea what you do to me, do you?’ He questioned, his voice low and rough, his words causing your thighs to clench together. ‘Like you said, you’re no longer an employee now, so we’re both safe’

‘Mason’ you breathed, a slight panic in your voice as it was now clear he wanted to fuck you in your office. He face softened at the sound, as he moved your hand away from his bulge and placed it over his heart instead, cupping your jaw as he looked at you intently.

‘Tell me to stop and I will’ he mumbled but you were way past that. The only thing in your mind was having whatever he was hiding in his boxers buried inside you, so you shook your head and he gave you a devilish smile. ‘Good choice’ he teased as you bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning.

He slipped his hands around your waist and pulled you in front of him so he could guide you to where he wanted you, his bulge now pressing into the back of you and your tummy flipped at the feeling. Once you were at the sofa, he pushed you forward again with his hips so you were forced to kneel on it, facing the wall as you held the back for support and you felt his hands dip under your top to stroke your waist.

‘Do you have any idea how many times I’ve imagined being locked in here with you, bending you over this sofa just like now and fucking the life out of you’ he growled and the shock of his words made your knees weak but you were thankful for the fact you were already being held up by the sofa.

Mason had only been in your office a handful of times in the ten or so months you’d been working at Chelsea, but you remembered the first time like it was yesterday. He’d come with Chilly and you were giving them a little tour. You’d managed to get the sofa in that morning so you were showing it off but Mason seemed in his own little world like usual however thinking back you could now tell from the flushed face and lack of eye contact that he was imagining what he could do with you on there.

‘Or how many times I’ve thought about sitting here watching you between my legs with my dick in your mouth. You drive me insane’ he told you, pulling flush against him as he spoke into your ear. You loved how rough he was being with you, but his hands were still gentle and it was sending you nuts. The thought of tasting him made your eyes roll back in your head and you were willing so say or do anything at this moment to make that happen, so you pressed back into him further which made him whimper and drop his head into your shoulder.

‘Let’s start with that then’ you murmured and he held you tighter and seemed to shiver at your words. He didn’t say anything else, just helped you back off the before taking a seat in the middle and standing you between his thighs so he could start to undress you. ‘Wait’ you said in a panic and he stopped what he was doing instantly. His hands flying back to hold up beside his head as if in surrender.

You quickly dashed across the room to shut the blinds, and then over to the the door to lock it before returning to him, a cheeky smile dressed on your face as he’s looked up at you with wide and nervous eyes.

‘Just wanted to be safe’ you winked before grabbing the bottom of your shirt and whisking it off in one swift motion. You heard him breathe out heavily and he bit his lip to take you in, thankful you’d worn a nice bra that day. You felt his hands grab you at your waist to pull you in a bit closer to him, leaving kisses all over your ribs as you attempted to get out of your joggers and once you’d kicked them across the room he watched his eyes flicker all over you. ‘Like what you see?’

‘Always have’ he told you before getting up to take his hoodie and top off together. You looked at him in awe as he moved, the muscles flexing under his skin making you feel hot all over, his prominent collar bones and bulging arms making you want you reach out and kiss all over his body. ‘Like what you see?’ he winked, repeating your words before tugging his joggers off too and you waited till he was up looking at you again before answering.

‘Always have’

With that, his lips were on you again, and you could feel his burning skin touching yours causing you to whimper into his mouth. He pulled off you with a smile, your lip between his teeth and it snapped back into place as he let go.

‘Sit down for me’ you whispered seductively, pushing on his chest lightly so he’d collapse onto the sofa before you could straddle his thighs and bring him in for another heated kiss. The feel of his hands on your skin was driving you wild and it wasn’t long before you were pushing yourself up so you could slip between his legs.

‘Y/n, are you sure?’ You heard Mason whisper as you reached up to the waistband of his boxers in order to free him.

‘I’m sure’ you told him and you watched him gulp as he lifted his hips to help you out, his impressive length slapping against his abdomen made your mouth water and you couldn’t wait to give him what he wanted.

All thoughts of arguments or not getting on we’re out the window as you took a hold of him in your hand, the breathy moan tumbling from his lips only spurring you on as you finally wrapped your lips around him.

‘Jesus Christ, y/n’ he whimpered, his hands trying to fist the sofa cushions but he couldn’t get a grip on anything. In the end you took his hands and placed them on your head so he could lace his fingers through your hair and he waisted no time in doing just that. He didn’t try and move your head at all, just kept your hair out of the way as you slowly took him in deeper, feeling his thigh muscles flutter under your fingers. ‘Fuck you’re so good at that’

You slowly pulled off of him whilst your hand took over, pumping him lazily as you looked up at him through your lashes. He looked so beautiful, his pouty lips were slightly parted and he started down at you, the bridge of his nose and cheeks a healthy pink and it was only getting deeper the more you turned him on.

‘Please’ he whispered, his hips bucking up into your hand you you smiled at him lightly. ‘Please baby, I need to feel your mouth around me’

You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head before leaning forward to take him back in your mouth, your eyes on him the whole time and you could tell he was struggling to keep his composure as you tried you hardest to make him feel good, but he next time you were coming back up for air he was pushing you off of him so he could help you up.

‘Kneel back up here for me’ he whispered, planting your knees on on the cushions as he jumped up and settled behind you. He gripped the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down until they were halfway down your thighs before getting on his knees behind you. ‘You’re dripping’ he laughed before you heard him let out a breath, licking one long stripe against you whilst moaning and kissing over the backs of your thighs but a knock on the door made you both stop in your tracks.

Panicked, you both froze in silence. Breaths held in as you waited for a sign to move and the eventual sound of footsteps retreating made you let your breath out and look down to Mason with a panicked expression.

‘Mason-’

‘I know I know. But I’m not leaving here without fucking you. We’ll be quick yeah’ he told you, standing up and gripping your bum so he could spread you out a little further for him. ‘Just relax’ He didn’t give you a chance to protest, not that you were planning on it, pushing himself in and out of you slowly until you started to moan a bit louder and he picked his pace up.

‘God Mase, keep going’ you breathed gripping onto the back of the sofa for dear life before he pulled you up and against his body, on arm around your waist and the other dipping in between your legs so he could tease your clit and get you further along the line.

You had nothing to hold onto eventually throwing your arm back to grip the back of his head whilst you held onto his other arm as he ploughed into you as quick as he could. It wasn’t how you’d imagined your first time with Mason, not that you ever thought there would be one, but he was hot and sweaty and you were more turned on than you ever could remember being. Drops of sweat dripping down your skin as his lips placed heavy kisses on your neck.

‘Come on baby, I need you to cum for me. I promise next time I’ll go slower’ he groaned, but you didn’t need much more convincing, the promise of next time tipping you over the edge and the feel of you pulsing around him made Mason finish just seconds after, his head buried in your neck as he tried to stifle his moans but you relished them, secretly proud that you could make him feel that way. ‘Right, plan of action. We quickly get dressed, you leave the way you came and I’ll head the long way round and leave out the side door yeah? Then I’ll meet you in the car park’

‘What if they ask what took me so long?’

‘I don’t know, say you had to take a personal call or something. That’s why the door was locked’

‘You’re sneaky’ you laughed but it quickly turned into a gasp as he started pulling out of you, wiping you clean with his boxers before putting his joggers back on with nothing underneath. You got dressed as quickly as you could, adjusting your hair in the reflection in the window before you both set off. Mason giving you a quick kiss before you went your separate ways and you fretted the whole way back about lying to the reception staff to the point your face was blood red by the time you got there.

Thankfully they believed your story, giving you one final good bye before you you raced back to your car. Mason already putting his stuff in his boot a few cars down but he soon wondered over to see you.

‘Do you wanna follow me back to mine maybe? Unless you have plans or something?’

‘No I’d like that’ you smiled, nudging his shoulder gently before you both got into your cars and drove off. Thankfully Mason lived a lot closer than you did and you parked up next to his car when you arrived before he took you inside. There was big smile on his face as he walked you through to the kitchen and you felt yourself being a little awkward about everything. Just over an hour ago the boy in front of you couldn’t bare to be around you and now you were at his house after you’d had a quickie your old office. You were overwhelmed and he picked up on it pretty quickly, directing you over the the sofa and sitting down facing you so you could speak but nothing seemed to be coming out of your mouth.

‘Is everything okay?’ He asked tentatively

‘Yeah sorry just a bit overwhelmed’ you laughed. ‘We seem to of gone from 1 to 100 pretty quickly’

‘Yeah I guess I’ve got some explaining to do’ he chuckled, brushing his hand over the top of his head and you had to restrain yourself so you didn’t reach out and touch it too.

‘Did I ever do anything to-‘

‘No no’ he interrupted, tentatively reaching for your hand and you let him link your fingers together.

‘What happened then?’

‘I didn’t mean it’ he whispered, cautiously getting closer to you until he was sat right next to you. You heart was hammering and you willed your tears to stay in your eyes. His other hand touched your arm as if to comfort you as he let out a soft sigh, your eyes searching his sad ones to figure out what you should say to each other. ‘Sorry, y/n. It was never intentional. I’d hate for you to think I didn’t like you cause I do’ he told you softly, almost as if he was admitting it to himself as well as you and in return you offered him a small smile. ‘I think it’s just I didn’t want you to like me’

‘Why not?’

‘Cause I knew if you did then I wouldn’t be able to keep away from you and I didn’t want to jeopardise anything for you. I know you love your job and you’re so good at it so I didn’t want to be the reason you didn’t have it. Seems like that’s happening anyway though’ he sighed in disappointment as he rubbed circles in your hand. ‘I feel like I drove you away’

‘You’re not why i left, Mase’ you told him, cupping his jaw to hopefully get him to look at you and you felt your heart hammer when he finally did. His dark brown orbs staring straight through to your soul and you both gave each other a small smile. ‘I’m only up the road. And it’s not like it’s another football team. I’m still a Chelsea girl’

‘I guess I could learn to like cricket’ he huffed, pulling you into his lap where you both just sat in each others arms for a little while. Finally gaining the courage to reach up and brush your hand over the back of his head, feeling just the way you imagined it would and you smiled as you heard him hum into your neck. You chuckled when you saw the dimple pop in his cheek, thinking this was probably the first time you’d been the reason for it.

‘Hey, Mase? Why did you cut all your hair off?’

‘I get hot in the summer if it’s too long’ he laughed before looking at you shyly. ‘Why, do you not like it?’

‘Quite the opposite, I think it’s very sexy’ you winked, causing him to blush and look away before turning back to you with a sparkle in his eye.

‘Is that so?’ He asked and you just nodded whilst biting your lip seductively. ‘How about I take you upstairs and show you how sexy I’ve always found you? Properly this time, I barely got to taste you before’ he whispered against your lips, drawing circles on your thigh and even though you’d had him not that long ago you were itching for more so you nodded before kissing him quickly to let him know you were ready. He surprised you by throwing you over his shoulder, your laugh ringing throughout his halls as he made his way up to his room.

Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you thought as it really helps motivate me to want to write more 🩷

[katsu28]

changed the game

pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

summary: steve would do anything for you, but he would never tell anyone why—until today

(i suck at writing summaries but it’s basically just 4.8k words of best friends to lovers with the best soccer mom ever!) 

warnings: swearing, steve being adorable, slight violence but it’s only like one slap, fluff central

a/n: i really am a sucker for the best friends to lovers trope. enjoy!! <3

masterlist + taglist

(gif found on google, credits to owner)

You burst through the doors of Family Video, looking around the store frantically for the one person you needed to find until you finally spotted him reshelving movies in the corner. He (surprisingly) didn’t see you coming, so when you popped into his line of sight, he jumped.

“Jesus Christ!” Steve yelped, all the tapes in his arms clattering to the floor. 

“Sorry,” You offered him a guilty smile, kneeling down to help him pick everything up. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“Uh, no, you’re—you’re all good. I was spaced the hell out.” Steve mumbled. “What’s up?”

“You’re going to Lucas’ game tonight, right?”

“Yeah, of course. Why?” 

“Would it be okay if the boys and I hitched a ride?” You asked sheepishly. “I promised I’d drive them, but my sister called dibs on the car for her stupid date, and I—” 

“Yeah, sure! No problem.” His response was immediate (and a bit squeaky too), head nodding so fast that his hair fell into his eyes. “I can pick you up at six, swing around and grab them on the way?”

“That sounds perfect! Thank you so much, Steve, you’re a lifesaver!” You beamed at him, passing off the rest of the fallen tapes into his arms and pulling him into a quick hug. He barely had time to react before you backed away, but your perfume lingered in his space. “I gotta get to work, but thank you again. I’ll see you tonight.” 

Steve managed a weak wave goodbye before watching you retreat out the doors, mind still processing your conversation. 

“Alright, I’ll shoot. When are you gonna tell her?” Robin’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he looked over to see her leaning against the front counter with her chin propped up in her hand and a shit eating grin on her face. 

“Tell her what?” He snorted, shoving the rest of the movies back on their respective shelves. Robin aimed a rather pointed look at him. “Seriously, what?” 

“Oh, you’re serious?” She raised an eyebrow. When all Steve did was give her a dumb look, she sighed. “When are you gonna tell Y/N that you’re in love with her?” 

Steve froze in his tracks, gaze whipping over to her incredulously. “What?” 

“You heard me, dingus.” 

“You’re insane.” 

“Steve, you were literally just telling me yesterday about your date with Brenda tonight, and you just agreed to play soccer mom carting around a bunch of your kid friends, all because Y/N batted her eyes and said pretty please?” 

“We’re friends, Robin. That’s what friends do.” He replied with a shrug, but even that seemed forced. “Besides, I can just call Brenda and reschedule, no big deal. She’ll understand.” 

“I’m your friend too, and you wouldn’t even give me a ride home from school after band practice last week!” 

“That was different!” 

“Yeah, you’re not completely head over heels for me!” 

“Y’know what?” Steve huffed, grabbing the movie cart and pushing it away from Robin. “I have work to do. I don’t need this.” 

“Right, because you’re so hard at work reshelving tapes!” Robin called after him, to which he flipped her off behind his back.

Once Steve finished reshelving all the rewound tapes, he glanced back over at the counter to see if Robin was still behind it, and when he saw that she was helping an old lady in the far corner of the store, he hurried over to the phone, digging the scrap of paper that Brenda had given him out of his pocket and dialing her number. He drummed his fingers on the counter as it rang, trying to come up with a way to bail on their date at the last minute without seeming like a jackass. 

“Hello?” Brenda’s sickly sweet voice poured through the receiver, and Steve cringed. 

“Hey, Brenda, it’s Steve. Harrington.” He said weakly, twirling a pen between his fingers. 

“Steve, hi!” She sounded happy to hear from him. “I’m looking forward to our date tonight!” 

“Yeah! Um, about that…I hate to do this so last minute, but I just came down with the nastiest case of food poisoning, and I think we’re probably gonna have to take a raincheck on our date.” 

“Oh no, you poor baby!” Brenda cooed. “Of course we can reschedule, no problem! Whenever you’re feeling better, just give me a call.” 

“Thank you so much, Brenda, you’re a real saint!”

“Maybe I’ll swing by your place and bring you some soup?” 

“No!” Steve blurted, then let out a forced chuckle. “No, I mean, I think food poisoning is contagious, and I’d be so bummed if you came by and I gave it to you.” 

Brenda giggled, and he could just picture her twirling her permed blond hair around her finger like she always did around him. “You’re so thoughtful, Steve.” 

“That, I am.” He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. “I, um, I’ve gotta go…y’know—I’ll just call you sometime, yeah?” 

“Feel better soon!” 

Steve mumbled out a ‘thank you’ before hanging up, ignoring the guilt pooling in his stomach and instead focusing on how happy you’d looked when he said he could give you and the boys a ride. 

“Does your ass ever get tired of all the shit that comes out of your mouth?” Robin asked innocently, pulling him out of his thoughts. Steve just flipped her off again on his way to the back room, where he collapsed into one of the flimsy plastic chairs with a heavy sigh. 

Robin was right, he was head over heels for you (but she didn’t need to know that). After Nancy, Steve didn’t think he’d ever be able to connect with anyone ever again. But then you came along with your bright smile and witty comebacks and how much you cared about your friends, and he fell hard and he fell fast. You’d ruined him for anyone else, in the best possible way. 

He’d been going on all these dates with different people, trying to find one person who he thought he could be happy with for once, but with every date he went on, his heart wasn’t in it. 

You had Steve Harrington wrapped around your finger, and you didn’t even know it. 

He’d do anything for you, so canceling a date that he didn’t even really want to go on was the least of his worries. Steve just hoped it didn’t end up backfiring on him in the future, because that would definitely not be a good look for him. 

-------

“You’re baking. You hate baking, why are you baking?” Your older sister, Callie, furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as soon as she walked into the kitchen, eyeing the mess of baking supplies on the counter with you in the middle of it all. 

You blew a stray piece of hair out of your face, hands too covered in sticky dough to touch anything else. “Cookies for Steve.” 

“Cookies for Steve,” She repeated, nodding slowly. “Why?” 

“Since someone,” You aimed a pointed look at her, “is taking the car tonight, he’s driving the boys and I to Lucas’ game.” 

“Is he now?” She hummed, smirking. 

See, what you didn't know was that Callie was friends with Brenda, the very same Brenda who was supposed to be going on a date with Steve tonight. Also the very same Brenda that had just called her sadly about Steve having food poisoning and canceling said date. Now hearing that he’d bailed on her to help you out, everything she’d been picking up on between you and Steve finally made sense. 

The way Steve always hung onto your every word, gazing stupidly at you when you weren’t looking. Every single time he’d gotten you something just because he thought you’d like it. How he’d show up at your house and watch god awful movies with you, and she could hear both your snorting laughters all throughout the night. 

And now this: Steve making up a bogus excuse to get out of a date all because you’d asked him for a favor. 

There was no mistaking it—Steve Harrington was in love with you. 

And you definitely felt the same way about him, because here you were, baking cookies for him like you were Betty Crocker despite your outspoken hatred for it. 

“So what’s the deal between you and Steve anyways?” Callie asked nonchalantly, reaching across the counter to snag a handful of chocolate chips and popping them in her mouth. 

“What deal?” You pulled open the oven to put the cookies inside to bake, setting a timer for ten minutes before turning back to her with furrowed brows to see that she was looking pointedly at you. “There is no deal with me and Steve, Cal, we’re friends. Friends help each other out.”  

“Right,” She dragged out the word amusedly, like she didn’t believe a word you were saying. “So you don’t like him? Like, like him like him?” 

“Me, like Steve?” You forced out a laugh, shaking your head. She nodded. “No, I don’t like him. Why are you asking?” 

“Oh, no reason.” 

“Weirdo.” 

“Says the one covered in flour,” Callie shot back, wrinkling her nose at you. “Don’t you have to go get ready or something?” 

One glance at the clock above the sink had you swearing like a sailor, because you now had less than an hour to clean up your mess, shower, get dressed, and let the cookies cool before Steve picked you up. 

“Can you help me clean up?” You yelped, scrambling out of your dusty apron and chucking it at Callie frantically, who dodged it with an indignant noise. 

“No, it’s your mess, you clean it!” 

You were already hurrying down the hall to your bedroom, but you managed to catch yourself on the doorway as you yelled back at her. “I’ll take your laundry duty for the next three weeks!” 

“Five!” 

“Deal!”

-------

Steve watched you leap down the steps outside your front door, smiling as you waved wildly at him on your way to his car. 

“Hi, Steve!” You chirped, sliding into the passenger seat smoothly. He nodded in acknowledgement, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel casually. “Thanks again for giving us a ride, I hope I didn’t crash any plans you might’ve had.” 

“Nah, no plans. And you don’t need to keep thanking me, I’m happy to help out,” He chuckled, pushing down the nagging feeling in his gut and pulling away from the curb smoothly. “Whatcha got there?”

You cracked open the plastic container on your lap with a sheepish smile. “Cookies. Made them as a thank you, but—” 

“Oh no, I’ll take that thank you,” He said quickly, opening his mouth without taking his eyes off the road. “Gimme one!” 

Popping a cookie into his mouth with a chuckle, you wiped your fingers on the collar of his jacket, listening to him groan about how this was his favorite one and how you’d ruined it. All you did was roll your eyes playfully, cranking up the radio to drown him out, but Steve switched gears right away, singing along horribly to every song that played—especially if he didn’t know the words. 

You couldn’t help but admire him from your side of the car, your eyes taking in every slope, curve, and contour of his face. From the sharp angle of his jaw to the curve of his pink lips; the scattering of freckles across his cheeks to the lines on his face that morphed into the cutest dimples whenever he smiled—in your eyes, everything about Steve Harrington was perfect. 

Sure, he could be a little dumb sometimes, but that was another one of the things you loved about him. 

And you did admit, the whole falling-for-your-best-friend thing wasn’t your smartest move, especially since that best friend was Steve freaking Harrington, who went on dates with different girls practically every other night and had a reputation for being quite the ladies’ man. You liked to think that he’d mellowed out since his King Steve days, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t have Hawkins girls lined up out the door to get their share of him. 

You didn’t really have any right to feel the jealousy that you did every time Steve talked about how he went roller skating with Stacy from junior year trig, or went out for milkshakes with Carla from the girls’ volleyball team, but you couldn’t help it. Steve was out of your league, and there was nothing you could (or would) do about it. 

“Hey, you okay?” Steve’s voice drew you out of your thoughts, and you saw that he was looking over at you in slight concern. When he saw you refocus, he smiled softly. “There she is. I was starting to wonder if I’d have to steal another cookie myself.” 

“I, um, I’m good. I was just…thinking.” You mumbled, embarrassed at the thought of being caught thinking about Steve by Steve. 

“Thinking, huh? Care to share?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You teased, eyes glinting with amusement. 

“I would, actually. Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that mind of yours.” 

“Maybe another time, Harrington.” You giggled, offering out another cookie as a consolation prize that Steve plucked right out of your fingertips. The car slowed to a stop outside of Dustin’s house, where the curly haired boy was already waiting outside impatiently, brows furrowed in confusion at the sight of Steve’s car but hopping in nonetheless. “Hey, Dustin! Sorry we’re late.” 

“It’s fine, the game doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes,” He assured you, then turned right to Steve. “But what are you doing here? I thought you were going—” 

“We should really get going if we wanna pick up the rest of the gang and get to the game on time!” Steve interrupted forcibly, shooting Dustin a very pointed look in the rearview mirror. 

“But—” 

“All buckled in, Henderson?” Dustin nodded slowly. “Alright, time to go!” 

Without further ado, Steve pulled away from the curb, cranking the radio back up and leaving Dustin (and now you) confused.

The atmosphere of the car ride to pick up Mike and Will, then to the high school, was awkward to say the least. The boys were in the back whispering about something you couldn’t make out and glancing at you and Steve in the front seat, while Steve was significantly less chatty with you than he was before Dustin got into the car. As soon as the car was parked, the younger boys filed out of the backseat, barely nodding at Steve’s promise to meet back here after the game was over in case anyone got separated before hurrying off towards the gym. 

“I’m gonna say it because nobody else will, but what is wrong with those kids?” You asked incredulously, wrinkling your nose at how weird they were acting. 

Steve just chuckled nervously, falling into step with you as you made your way slowly to the gym as well. “I ask myself that everyday.” 

You noticed how Steve didn’t answer your question, but decided not to push in fear of making things more awkward than they already were now. The two of you made your way into the school in silence, passing off your tickets and finding an empty space midway up the wooden bleachers, an aisle away from the band. You caught Robin’s eye and waved at her excitedly, nudging Steve with your elbow for him to say hi too. He waved, purposely ignoring her smug gaze by focusing out on the cheerleading squad. 

“Has Robin made her move on Vickie yet?” Your voice was soft in Steve’s ear, but still made his breath catch in his chest at the fact that you were basically leaning against him to be heard in the loud gym. 

“She, uh—no, she hasn’t. Not that I know of.” He stuttered, gulping nervously. 

“I think they’d be good together.” 

“I keep telling her that, but she keeps pushing back,” Steve shrugged. “You should talk some sense into her.” 

You smiled at him, patting his shoulder. “I think I will. Maybe I’ll swing by Family Video tomorrow.” 

Right as Steve was about to respond, a shrill whistle from the referee signaled the start of the game, not leaving much room to discuss Plan Robin-gets-the-girl. 

You couldn’t help but touch Steve every time something big happened during the game, whether it was latching your arm around his during a particularly risky play, elbowing him playfully when he made a sarcastic remark about the players, or much to Steve’s dismay, smacking his shoulder roughly every time Lucas touched the ball, as if Steve wasn’t watching the exact same game you were. 

The final play of the game was by far the best, when Lucas hit a buzzer beating three to bring it all home, and you nearly knocked Steve over hugging him in excitement. He wrapped his arms around your waist, reciprocating your hug and taking it one step further by lifting you up off your feet for a few seconds. Your nose nudged against his hammering pulse point at that, which you just chalked up to the adrenaline of the game and not what it actually was—you throwing yourself into Steve’s arms without a care in the world. It made Steve’s heart hammer in his chest, so much so that he was still thinking about it as the crowd was filing out of the gym, the cool air doing wonders to sooth his flushed cheeks. 

You nudged his shoulder gently, shaking him out of his head. “So, what do you think? Think we got a shot at winning the championships this year?” 

“I’d say yeah, so long as Coach takes Sinclair off the bench and puts him in action.” 

“I bet you could put in a good word for him, King Steve,” You teased, letting out a shriek of laughter and dodging Steve’s hands when he lunged towards you in retaliation. 

“Get the hell back here, you little—” 

“Steve!” 

Steve stopped in his tracks at the sickeningly familiar, once sweet, now turned very, very angry, voice that rang out from behind him, sending his heart that was just swelling with happiness plummeting into his stomach. Squeezing his eyes shut, he turned around slowly to see none other than Brenda standing behind him, arms crossed over her chest and eyes glaring right at him whilst she snapped the pink bubble gum forcefully between her teeth. 

“Hey—hey, Brenda!” He cleared his throat awkwardly in a sad attempt to keep his voice steady. 

Shit, she looked mad. 

“That food poisoning really cleared up fast, didn’t it?” She deadpanned, and if her gaze were lasers, they’d be boring a hole right through his head right now. 

“Yeah, uh—about that, I’m really sorry,” Steve mumbled, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s not you, it’s me.” 

“Seriously? That’s the line you’re gonna use?” Brenda scoffed, rolling her eyes. “If you didn’t want to go out with me, you should’ve just said so instead of making up some bullshit excuse!” 

“I didn’t mean to, I just—it came out! I’m sorry, okay?” He blurted, realizing a split second after that he’d definitely just made things a whole lot worse. She looked about ready to rip his face off as she stalked towards him angrily. 

“It just came out???” She shrieked, eyes blazing with fury. “You’re an asshole and a coward, Steve, you know that?” 

“A coward?” He arched an eyebrow. Asshole, yeah, he could admit that much. But coward? That one threw him for a loop.

“You heard me.” 

“How am I—y’know what, I don’t even think I wanna know,” He shook his head, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, Brenda. Truly, I really am. It was wrong of me to lie, and I apologize.” 

“Fuck you, Steve.” She snarled. Steve saw her hand go up, but he didn’t even register that she’d slapped him until a burning pain took over the entire left side of his face. Even then, he could only stand there in stunned silence as he watched her storm away from him.

Meanwhile, you were watching the whole thing from a few feet away, going through a myriad of emotions at their interaction and ending wide eyed in shock at the sight of Brenda slapping Steve clean across the face. 

“What the hell just happened?” You nearly collided with him as you rushed forward, your fingers instantly angling his chin towards you to assess the damage. An angry red hand imprint was already beginning to blossom across his cheek. 

He squinted with a scrunched nose, feeling his face grow hot in embarrassment. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.” 

“Steve, she just bitch slapped you across the face, that’s not nothing,” You pressed, dropping your hands to prop on your hips with a frown aimed up at him. “What was she talking about?”  

Steve blew out a heaving breath, backing up a few paces. Everything was blowing up in his face right now. “I lied earlier. I did have plans tonight. I was, uh, I was supposed to be coming to the game with Brenda…on a date.” 

“Steve, really?” You gasped, bringing your hands up to cover your mouth. “Oh, this is all my fault, I shouldn’t have—” 

“No! No, Y/N, this isn’t your fault. It’s mine, I should’ve said something.” He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “This is on me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had plans? I would’ve figured something else out.” 

Steve had two options. He could either use the same line about wanting to be a good friend that he used to justify his choice to Robin earlier, or he could man up and come clean, actually tell you why he dropped plans for you. Finally confess that he was in love with you. 

But the way you were looking at him, all confused and guilty and so beautifully conflicted at the same time, he couldn’t lie to you anymore. 

“I need to tell you something,” He blurted, getting the ball rolling so he wouldn’t chicken out. You tilted your head at him curiously, your expression inviting him to get what he needed to off his chest. Steve inhaled a sharp breath first, steeling his nerves. “The reason why I lied about my date, it’s—it’s the same reason why I keep going on so many dates.” 

“I’m not following…” 

“I go out on all these dates with all these different girls to distract me from the fact that there’s one girl who owns my heart. One girl that has me so wrapped around her finger that I’d do anything for her, no matter how big or small.”

“Steve,” You said softly, your breath hitching in your chest at the way he was stepping closer to you with every word with the most serious and the most nervous look you’d ever seen grace his face. “What are you saying?” 

“I’m in love with you, Y/N, so goddamn much that it hurts. I’ve been in love with you for…god, I don’t even know how long now,” Steve was nearly nose to nose with you now, taking your hand and placing it on his chest, right above his jackhammering heart. He didn’t care how many people were watching right now; he was on a roll and there was no way he was going to stop himself. Steve didn’t think he could even if he tried. “This heart is yours, Y/N L/N. It always has been, and it always will be.” 

You didn’t even realize there were tears rolling down your cheeks until the rough pads of Steve’s thumbs swiped under your eyes gently. “You’re crying. You’re—shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Then he was backing away quickly, hands trembling in uncertainty at your reaction to his confession, because shit, out of all the times he’d imagined this whole thing going down, not once did he expect you to start crying. 

It was damn near impossible for you to find the words to convey the knot of feelings pooling in your gut, so you did the next best thing that you could think of to make Steve understand that you loved him too. You surged forward before he could back off completely, body crashing against his and arms winding around his neck, and you kissed him. Hard. Lovingly, but yeah, still hard. 

Steve froze again for what seemed like the hundredth time today, his brain short-circuiting at what was happening at this very moment. You. Him. You were kissing him. In the middle of the parking lot. For pretty much all of Hawkins to see. 

Holy shit. 

You were kissing him.  

Kissing you was better than Steve had ever imagined—and he’d imagined it a lot. You tasted heavenly sweet, like the strawberry chapstick you always wore and the chocolate from the cookies you’d eaten earlier, and it made him weak in the knees. His hands were traveling up and down your back, resting at your waist, pulling you closer, moving like he didn't know what to do with them but didn't want to let you get away. Yours, on the other hand, stayed firmly planted in his hair, which—despite all the products that you'd always seen strewn across his bathroom counter at home—was surprisingly soft to the touch. 

It wasn’t until you heard a series of wolf whistles from passing students that you remembered you were in the middle of the parking lot, kissing Steve right out there in the open for everyone to see. And it was that thought that had you pulling away from his addicting lips, pressing your forehead against his as you tried to catch your breath after the kiss had pulled it out of both your chests. 

The world felt like it was spinning when you pulled away from him, like you’d just gotten drunk off his kiss, and you missed it already. 

“Whoa,” He panted, chest heaving. “What was—you…what was that?” 

You gnawed on your lower lip in contemplation, pondering how to word this in the best way. “In the car earlier, you said you wanted to know what I was thinking about.” 

“I remember.” 

“I was thinking about you.” 

“Me?” His voice was soft, honey brown eyes lighting up at your words. 

“Yeah, you. And how I’m in love with you too.” 

“You are?” 

“I love you, Steve Harrington.” 

Steve couldn’t help the dopey grin that stretched across his face at your words. “That—wow, that feels really good. Just hearing you say it.” He chuckled breathlessly, thumbing at your waist. “Can I kiss you again? Please?” 

“You can kiss me whenever you want.” 

“God, that’s even better.” 

He leaned in to kiss you again and you gladly reciprocated, subconsciously bringing your hand up to cup his face as he dipped you down slowly. As soon as your palm came in soft contact with his cheek, however, Steve hissed. “Ow, shit—” 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” You yelped, pulling away from him in a panic. “I forgot!” 

“No, it was worth it,” He groaned, wincing slightly as your fingers ghosted across the handprint across his cheek once more. “So worth it.” 

“We should probably get some ice on that.” You chuckled, lacing your fingers through his and tugging him towards the car, where Dustin and the rest of the boys were all waiting with crossed arms and smug ass smiles. 

“About high time you guys figured it out!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air exasperatedly. “God, I thought I was gonna have to confess for you, Steve.” 

“Shut it, Henderson,” Steve rolled his eyes, but was still smiling nonetheless whilst snaking his arm around your waist. “Get your asses in the car, I’m taking everyone home now.” 

“Why, so you can spend more time sucking face with your girlfriend?” teased Lucas, mimicking kissing the air childishly. 

“I’ll make you walk, Sinclair!” Lucas pushed past Will into the backseat without another word. “That’s what I thought.”

The rest of the boys were quick to follow, none of them wanting to make the trek all the way home in the dark. You just shook your head amusedly, climbing into the passenger seat. Steve immediately took your hand as soon as he slid into the driver’s seat, resting it on the gearshift with his on top, but not before pressing a kiss to your knuckles. And when you beamed at him lovingly, he couldn’t help it. He leaned over the center console, capturing your lips in a soft kiss without giving two shits about the noises of disgust and retching coming from the boys in the backseat at his lovesick actions. 

Because, in a twist of fate that somehow worked in his favor, Steve got the girl. He finally got you, the girl he’d always wanted but never in a million years thought he’d ever be so lucky to call his. The girl that changed the game for him. 

[rollingsins]

all hers, part xix

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue

summary: Vindicated, Tara comes back home.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of murder. Smut: strap-sex, pussy-eating, light choking, possessiveness.

word count: 4.7k

a/n: i'm alive! and pookie is free! thanks for all the love and patience with this chapter, hope you all enjoy :))))

You ride with Sam to the police station. 

What you thought would feel like a euphoric victory suddenly feels hollow. 

There’s two. 

Of course. Why wouldn’t there be? It was always two. And you’d just murdered someone’s partner in crime, no doubt there would be retribution. 

It feels different this time. 

Wes had sent you spiraling, but Richie’s death leaves you almost unperturbed. 

He’d tried to kill Tara. Take her away from you. 

And you’d given him exactly what he deserved. The justice he thought he was delivering to you. 

It’d be scary, your nonchalance towards murder, if you didn’t have much more pressing matters. Namely, your girlfriend sitting in a five by seven jail cell. 

She’s still in there when you arrive. 

You can see her looking over at you through the bars. 

She looks terrible. Dark circles under her eyes, messy, tufted hair. She’s very the same clothes as she’d been brought in with and she’s staring right back at you, something in her face akin to fury and relief all at once. 

When they finally draw her through the doors she all but knocks you over in her flurry to get to you. 

You gasp. She’s tiny, but she lifts you off the ground with no qaulms. Presses you down and kisses you, a little rough. 

Then she drops you and rounds on Sam. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” She snarls. 

“I was thinking my baby sister is in jail and I needed to get her out.” Sam answers, smoothly. She presses a hand to Tara’s cheek, rubs at one of the circles under her eyes, “Are you okay?”

“No I’m not okay,” Tara snaps, batting her hand away, “I gave you one job and you-”

“-Killed him,” You interject. You draw her in closer, try and soothe her with a kiss, “It’s okay, baby. We got him.” 

One of them, is what you should say, but Tara’s so anxious you think it might send her right off the edge. 

She looks over at you, look in her eyes frosty. 

“Don’t even get me started on you,” She says, voice curt, “You’re in so much trouble. If you think I’m letting you out of my sight ever again-”

“I was worried about you too, baby.” You press a kiss to her hand, “Come on. Let’s go home.” 

-

Sam drives. 

Tara pulls you into the back seat with her, tugs you into her lap and pulls the belt around both of your bodies. 

You would think she’d been gone six months and not six hours by the way she kisses you. Desperately. Needy. Her hands roam wildly, like her sister isn’t in the front seat. 

Sam clears her throat. 

“Can you two not fuck in the back seat of my car?” She asks, “I just had the leather reupholstered.” 

It’s a perfectly reasonable request, but Tara glares at her like she’s just killed her puppy. 

“How could you not know you were fucking Ghostface this entire time?” Tara asks, gripping your hips, “You brought him into our lives, Sam, jesus.” 

You press your hands to Tara’s face, smooth her dark hair back. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” Sam says, voice quiet. 

“Tara,” You whisper into her ear, “Your sister has just been betrayed by someone she thought she loved. A little empathy wouldn’t hurt.” 

Tara’s quiet a long moment. 

Then she kisses your cheek. 

“Sorry,” She says to Sam, somewhat awkwardly, “I know it must be a shock. It’s not your fault, Sam. Are you okay?”

Sam peers into the backseat, face awash with surprise at Tara’s newfound empathy. 

“Don’t worry about me,” She says, “What we should be worried about is his partner. Mindy’s right, Richie wasn’t Ghostface the night he attacked you. It was someone else.”

You fiddle with Tara’s fingers, nervously. The very thought of there being someone else who wanted to hurt Tara out and about and walking around in the world made you want to cry. 

Tara rubs your back, reassuringly. 

“So we’ll catch whoever it is and dig them a grave next to Richie,” She says, more to you than Sam. She presses a kiss to your cheek and lowers her voice, “Are you good, baby?” 

She’s referring to the murder you’d just committed, no doubt. 

She has fears you’ll freak out again and jet off to a cabin with your family like last time, you can tell by the look in her eyes. 

But Richie isn’t Wes. 

Richie was guilty, and somehow it makes all the difference. 

“I’m fine, Tara.” You assure. You press a lingering kiss to her lips for good measure, “I’m just happy you’re coming home.” 

“It should have been me who did it,” She says, eyes mournful, “I’m sorry, baby.” 

You can feel a pair of eyes on you. You clear your throat, tilt your head into Tara’s neck. Sam’s watching, eyes squinted from the front seat. Like she has questions she needs answered. 

“Richie said you deserved to pay,” Sam says after a long moment. She’s looking at the two of you through the rearview mirror, a little confused, “He said if I knew what you did in your spare time, I wouldn’t be trying to protect you. What did he mean?”  

You swallow. Tara tilts back in her seat. 

“Who knows what he meant?” Says Tara, “The guy was a nutjob. Maybe I told him to fuck off out of my house one too many times.”

Sam hums. 

“You were a little harsh on him.” She says, absent-mindedly. 

Tara balks. 

“A little harsh on him? He was Ghostface, Sam.” She all but hisses. 

Sam waves her hand. 

“We didn’t know that at the time.” She says,. 

“You didn’t know that at the time,” Tara says, crossing her arms, “I knew it from the minute YN was attacked.”

She did, you remember all at once. So much could have been avoided if you had just believed her. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t take you more seriously, babe.” You say, pressing your hands to her cheek. She leans up and kisses you. 

You press your nose to hers.

“Was it horrible?” You ask, brushing the hair out of her face, “Jail?” 

Tara brushes it off. 

“It was fine,” She says, “It was fine until I heard over the radio there had been an attack at the school.”

You kiss her, soft. 

“I’m sorry, babe,” You say, “It was the only way to get you free. And it worked.” 

“You broke your promise to me, Sam,” Tara says, an edge to her voice, “You promised me you wouldn't lead her into danger.” 

“I’m sorry, Tara,” Sam says, “I knew it was the only way you’d go without a fight.” 

“You lied to me.” Tara says, and you squeeze her hand. 

“I’m sorry.” Is all Sam says. 

She parks the car, looks over at her sister. 

Tara clicks her seatbelt off. 

“Whatever,” Tara says, “But if you think I’ll trust you with her ever again-”

“I’m not a dog, Tara,” You say, frowning, “Going there was my choice too.”

“And you need to promise me you’ll never do something like that again.” Tara says, voice serious. She holds out her hand, “Please baby. Do you have any idea what I’d do if I lost you?”

“I thought I’d lost you.” You say. You press into her side, kiss her once more, “I thought the Sheriff had taken you away from me for good.” 

“She’ll never keep me away from you.” Tara says, voice stern. She presses a long kiss to your forehead. 

“As sweet as this is,” Sam says, tilting her head to the porch, “We’ve got a welcome party.” 

-

Chad, Liv and Mindy are waiting by the porch when you enter. 

You let them all in, watch as Sam triple locks the doors, and head to the den where Mindy sets up camp once again. 

She has a fresh powerpoint with a list of suspects. It’s a little impressive - and Sam rushes off to the kitchen to fix Tara a meal as you all settle down.

“What was prison like, Tara?” Liv asks, wide-eyed, “Did you have to join a gang?”

“I was there for less than six hours, Liv.” Tara says sounding exasperated, “And they didn’t take me to prison. Not a real prison. Just the holding cell in the Sheriff’s office.”

Liv nods, seriously. 

“I’ve heard in prison you have to exchange what you have for what you want,” She says, “We can bring you cigarettes, if you go back. My cousin Tammy said she exchanged sexual favors with some of the guards so she could get extra time on the phones.” 

Tara looks aghast. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks Liv.” She says, nose wrinkled. 

You climb into her lap, kiss her softly. 

“She’s not going back there, Liv.” You say, “They have Richie now. He’s to blame for the killings.”

“But he’s not the only one,” Mindy says, voice serious, “And that brings me to my presentation.” 

She clicks play. 

Tara rolls her eyes. 

It’s a series of floating images; faces. Yours, Tara’s, Richie’s, Sam’s. 

It has everything. The exact times of the attacks. The weapons. The final slide is a picture of Richie, side by side with a giant gray question mark. 

“Richie has a partner,” Mindy says, “But the question is - who?” 

“Who was Richie close with?” Chad asks, sitting up. 

“No-one.” Tara says, “He stayed at home all day playing video-games in his boxers. He didn’t have any friends.” 

“He had at least one friend.” Mindy says, lowering her voice. She jerks her head towards the kitchen, where Sam is preparing food. 

Tara groans. 

“Mindy, not this again-” 

“It works.” Mindy says, voice hushed, “My baby-sitter theory. She comes back into town, the attacks start happening. We catch her boyfriend red-handed-”

“You’re forgetting one thing,” You say. Mindy tilts her head, “Sam was in on the plan. To catch Ghostface. If she was in it with Richie, why would she let him get caught?” 

Mindy pauses. 

“Maybe she was sick of him?” She suggests, “Maybe she wanted to break up with him but didn’t know how to do it?” 

“So she had him murdered?” Tara asks, eyebrow raised. 

“If she is Ghostface, she’s a psycho, Tara.” Mindy insists, “If she’s Ghostface she’s trying to kill her own sister. Why not her boyfriend?” 

“This is stupid,” Tara says, sounding tired, “Sam’s not Ghostface. She’s my sister. I think I know my own sister.” 

“I thought I knew Richie,” Sam says. Your head jerks over to her. She’s leaning against the doorframe, frown on her face. 

“Sam.” Mindy says, blinking, “I didn’t hear you come in.” 

Sam gives her a look. 

She settles down against the couch, beside Liv. 

“It’s fine,” She says, “I get it. I’d suspect me too.” 

“No one suspects you, Sam,” You offer, “Mindy just gets over-excited. Right, Mindy?” 

“I’m just considering all the options,” Mindy says, voice a little high. 

“And you should,” Sam says, “Right now, we should suspect everyone. Everyone except Tara and YN.” 

Silence fills the room. 

Chad looks up. 

“What if it’s Wes?” He suggests, a little hesitant. Mindy stares. Your heart flips at his name. Suddenly, your hands are clammy. Tara squeezes your hip, subtle as can be. 

“Wes?” 

Chad shrugs. 

“They never found a body. They never even found evidence of a crime. What if he skipped town, faked his own disappearance to get off the radar?”

“I really doubt that, Chad.” Tara says. 

“Why would Wes want to hurt Tara and YN?” Sam asks with a frown, “You guys were friends, right?” 

“Right.” You say, voice a little tight. 

“Wes had a crush on YN, everyone knew that,” Chad says, shrugging, “Maybe that’s why this Ghostface hates Tara so much. 

At this, Tara’s head snaps around. 

“What?”

Chad blinks.

“Yeah. I thought you knew?” He says, head tilted. He looks over to Mindy, “Right?”

Mindy nods, stern. 

“Everyone knew.” 

You wince as Tara’s hand tightens around your waist. 

“Well, no-one told me.” Tara says, eyes ablaze. She looks over to you, face enraged, “Babe, did you know?” 

“Of course not.” You say. You squeeze her hand, try to calm her down, “It’s Wes, babe. He never would have done anything.” 

And he’s dead. You leave that bit unsaid. 

It doesn’t seem to help. You recognize it immediately. It’s the Rage taking over. Tara’s chest heaves. Her eyes spark like fire. 

“Asshole.” She gasps, “Fucking asshole. He was supposed to be my friend-”

“Tara, it’s not his fault,” Liv says. She reaches out to touch Tara’s arm but Tara retracts like Liv’s burned her, “Really. You can’t help who you fall for.” 

“You can not have a crush on my girlfriend.” Tara says, sounding outraged. She looks around the room, to the sea of taken aback faces, “Anyone else have a crush on YN? Mindy? Chad?” 

“No.” They both say flatly, in unison. 

“Baby-” You touch her again, but she’s too far gone to reason with. 

“Sam? You’ve all but moved in. Made best friends with her parents. Do I have to worry about you as well?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Tara.” Sam says, rolling her eyes, “Can we focus? What do the police have on Wes?”

“Nothing,” Mindy says, sounding a little gloomy, “No body, no evidence. I mean, they arrested Tara for his death so I guess he’s assumed dead?” 

“Put him on the slideshow.” Chad says, sitting up, “If we’re considering everyone, that is.” 

The rest of the afternoon is almost unbearable. 

Mindy and Chad bicker over who their top candidates are. Sam joins in, here and there. 

And Tara sits, arms crossed, pouting like a storm cloud ready to spark lightning over everyone.  

Chad and Mindy are halfway through an argument about what the next plan should entail when Tara stands suddenly, bringing you up with her. 

“It’s been a long day, can you all please leave, now?” She says, abruptly. 

Mindy looks over to her, apprehension on her face.

“Tara, is that a good idea? I mean, with Ghostface still out there and all? He could be back again tonight.” 

“We’ve got enough locks to house a small prison and Sam walking about with an arsenal like she’s Lara Croft. I think we’ll be fine.” Tara says, sounding tired. 

Chad looks over to Liv, touches her head. 

“You want us to stay?” He suggests, “We could all camp out in the living room, like a sleepover.”

“We’re good, thanks Chad.” Tara says, voice firm. She’s still annoyed, you can tell by the tone in her voice. What had been an offhand remark about Wes for Chad she’d been toiling with for the last two hours - you can tell by the look in her eye. 

“Are you sure?” Chad presses, “If Ghostface attacked you again and we could have done something about it-”

Tara cuts him off, voice curt, “I said, we’re fine, Chad. Besides, I’m about to nail my girlfriend and would rather you weren’t all down here listening.”  

“Tara.” You hiss, mouth open. Sam wrinkles her nose and sees herself back off to the kitchen. 

But it works. 

Chad blinks back at her, and without a word, leads Liv and Mindy to the door. 

And then Tara takes you by the hand and all but drags you upstairs. 

There’s a dangerous look in her eye. Foreboding, almost. Her shoulders are drawn, her eyebrows knit tight in a frown. 

It’s The Rage. 

And you need to get rid of it, fast, before she does something she’ll regret. 

“He’s dead, babe.” You say as she closes the door. You reach for her, but she withdraws from you, instead moving over to the window, watching her friends leave. 

You’re exhausted. The day has been brutal - the morning worrying about Tara and the afternoon putting a bullet through Richie’s brain. You want to collapse onto the bed, take Tara into your arms and not think about the days to come. 

The days to come with another Ghostface to contend with. 

But Tara has other plans. 

She’s pacing. Like she’s about to put on her Ghostface outfit and pry Wes’ body out of the river she threw him in. 

“How did I not know?” She says, eyebrows pinched, “Babe, if I didn’t know about him, who else do I not know about?” 

She chews her lip. 

“Mindy, I bet it’s Mindy. Mindy has a crush on you. Chad too, why not? He’s all brawn and thinks he can get any girl in this town. Hell, I bet Liv’s thought about you too.”

“Liv’s straight.” You say, voice stern, “And you sound crazy right now.” 

She looks over at you, eyes wild. 

“Do you like Mindy?” She asks, moving a little closer, “Do you think she’s cute? Would you fuck her, if I wasn’t around? Would you leave me for her?” 

She’s tiny, 5’1, but at the moment she looks seven feet tall. Shoulders drawn, she almost towers over you. 

Menacing. 

“Tara, you’re scaring me.” You say, taking a step back. 

She blinks. And then drops her shoulders. 

“Sorry,” She says, after a moment, “I’m sorry, babe.”

She brings her hands to her own face, and then sinks down into her mattress. 

“It’s taking over me, I can feel it.” She says, sounding mournful, “I’m trying to fight it, baby, I am.” 

You swallow. Move over to her and wrap your arms around her shoulders. 

“It’s okay, Tara,” You say, “Look at me.” 

She looks up, brown eyes wide. It’s still there, The Rage, you can see it swimming in her eyes. You lean down and press a kiss to her lips. 

“I don’t want anyone else, it doesn’t matter who it is,” You say, voice firm, “So tell The Rage to fuck off. It isn’t needed. No one is going to take me from you.” 

You kiss her again. Her hands grip around your waist, holding you tight. 

“Promise?” She asks. She looks so vulnerable. Like a child asking for her favorite toy. Her brown eyes are wide, mournful. 

“Promise.” You whisper and kiss her once more. 

She sighs against your lips. 

You curl your hands around her neck. 

She feels so good against you. Warm and solid and there. Not in a jail cell, facing life in prison. With you, under you, where she belongs. 

You push her back onto the bed and climb on top of her. 

You missed her. Less than six hours and you missed her. Like someone had cut off your arm or something much worse. 

Your kisses climb. You slip your knee between her thighs and press down onto her. 

She squeezes your hips. You slip your tongue between her lips. You move your body against hers. 

Her smell, her taste encompasses you. 

You move your hands down to her waistband. Fumble with the buttons on her jeans as you hurry to slide them off her. 

You manage to half pry them down her legs before she’s rising up and flipping you over onto your back. 

If getting you naked was an olympic sport - she’d win gold every time. 

You don’t even know how she does it so quickly. 

A single tilt of her wrist and your bra is unclipped, your shirt being pulled off in one quick swipe. Then, your skirt. Down your legs with your underwear faster than you can moan her name. 

She has the precision of a sniper. 

She spreads your bare legs and clambors between them, helping out your fruitless attempts to get her out of her shirt in seconds. 

Then she’s back on top of you, warm, naked, kissing you like she’s still in prison and you’re her last meal. 

She juts her hips out, hits you in just the right spot. 

You curl your hand around her neck, fingers gripping at her dark hair. Her lips don’t give you a moment to breathe. She’s kissing you desperately, hands on your hips, gently thrusting into you in that way that makes you soak. 

You moan her name, once, twice, before she’s pressing a final kiss to your lips and moving down your body to curl her hands around your thighs. 

It’s embarrassing the way she never needs to tease you. 

You lean back into the mattress, close your eyes as you feel her lips press to your inner thighs. 

“Mmm.” She murmurs as she grazes her lips over the inside of your thighs, “Looks like someone’s ready for me.” 

“Shut up.” You say, touching the back of her head, trying to press her into where you need her the most. 

“That’s not a very nice way to talk to your girlfriend,” She teases. She darts her tongue out, smoothes over the milky skin of your inner thigh. You let out a harsh sigh, thighs closing around her shoulders. 

“Baby, please.” You beg. 

She smiles. Presses one last kiss to your thigh. 

“That’s better,” She says, “Missed you too, babe.” 

Her tongue works against your folds, darting and licking up traces of your arousal like a hungry cat lapping at its milk. 

You lean back onto the mattress and sigh, taking your own breasts in your hands. 

It isn’t long before she’s trailed her way up to your clit, licking gently in the kind of way that makes you ache with desire.

You curl your hands in her hair and moan, softly. 

She presses a final loving kiss to your thigh before she’s moving up and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. You make a noise of protest, but she leans down and quiets you with her lips. 

Then she’s retracting, eyebrows raised.  

“Fingers or strap?” She’s asking, eyes dark like she already knows the answer. 

“Strap.” You all but beg, and she gives you a wicked smile before rolling over and fumbling through your top drawer. 

Sam’s still downstairs, you think vaguely as you watch Tara slip into the harness. Sam’s downstairs and Tara’s looking at you like she’s about to make you scream so loudly the neighbors might complain. 

Tara climbs between your legs, a dirty grin on her face. 

She’s reaching over your body for the lube bottle but you touch her hand. 

“We don’t need it,” You say, voice graveled. She ducks down and kisses you. 

“We need it,” She promises. She bites at your bottom lip, a little playful, “I’m about to fuck you so hard and I want you nice and wet and ready to take it. I love you baby. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

You groan. 

She coats the tip of the dildo, then reaches her hands between your legs to massage it into you. You let out a sharp gasp at the cool of the liquid, but she makes it better instantly. Thumb on your clit, rubbing slightly and she sinks her fingers inside you. 

“Good?” She teases as you flush red. 

You’re in no mood for joking. You grab at the head of the dildo and tug her forward, pulling her on top of you and taking her lips in a desperate kiss. She slips her tongue into your mouth, distracted, only slightly, before she’s spreading your legs with her knees and reaching between her own legs to guide herself inside. 

Her mouth presses against your neck. 

You gasp as you feel it: the tip of her cock against your entrance, her hands around your hips keeping you from running from her. She sinks in slowly, biting her own lip as she looks down to admire her work. 

The stretch feels incredible. You dig your nails into the skin of her biceps, tilting your head back onto the pillows as she fills you up to the hilt. 

She’s still a moment, letting you adjust, before she’s leaning down once again to kiss you. 

“Does that feel good?” She murmurs, pressing her nose to yours. 

You nod. Curl your hands around her shoulders, burying your face in her neck. 

“Tell me.” She insists, tilting your face back up to her. 

“It feels really good, baby.” You say, voice high. She kisses you once, and then jerks her hips back. 

“Fuck.” You gasp. 

Her hands grip tight suddenly around your neck and your stomach flips. She thrusts her hips towards you, pulling back slightly to build a steady, hard rhythm. 

You’d gasp but her fingertips are tight around your neck, eyes ablaze with lust, and want and the kind of possessiveness that makes you spread your legs a little wider. 

“Nobody else will fuck you this good,” She says, jerking her hips forward once more, “Nobody. Not Mindy and her micro-strap, not Chad and his carrot dick and certainly not my sister and her-”

“Can we not talk about your sister when we’re fucking?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed. 

Tara slams into you a little harder, making you cry out. 

If Sam didn’t know what the two of you were doing up here, she certainly does now. 

But Tara doesn’t care. She pounds into you, her slow rhythm out the window. 

“Tell me you’re mine.” She growls. Her hands are back around your neck, “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You, Tara, only you.” You gasp. 

“Good girl,” She purrs. She drops her hands from your neck and leans down to kiss you, slow, “That’s my good girl.” 

She pulls back slightly, and you groan as part of her length slips out of you. She hushes you with a gentle squeeze to your thigh, before she’s taking your legs in hand and placing them over her shoulders. 

She slides back into you, pressing a feverish kiss to your lips. The position means she’s so deep it almost hurts. Her belly presses flush against your own, her hips moving only slightly as she settles into place. 

You reach out to touch her face, curl your hand around her cheek as you tug her down to kiss her. She shifts her hips slightly and it makes you gasp. 

You moan her name again. 

She kisses you fiercely, and you know that kind of kiss. It’s the kind she gives you before she’s about to let loose on you. It’s like a warning, and it makes you flood with arousal and grip the back of her neck tighter. 

She pulls back from your lips, eyebrows furrowed, determined look in her eyes, and then she’s holding onto your thighs and fucking you as hard and fast as her hips will move. 

The bed frame squeaks. She’s gasping, you’re moaning, the only kind of choir that could ever make you believe in God. 

It builds in you quickly - her furious fucking, the sight of her red lips and messy, hair sticking to the sweat on her forehead. 

You cry out, gasp her name and then stars are exploding behind your eyes as you cum. She grips your thighs, tight, not far behind. With a final messy thrust, her eyes are clamping shut as she gasps out and collapses against your body. 

Your ears ring. You wrap your arms around her body, press a kiss to her sweaty forehead, rubbing her back as she comes down. 

“I love you.” You murmur, “And I missed you so much.” 

She kisses you. 

“It was only six hours, babe.” She says, voice playful. 

“Worst six hours of my life.” You say. 

Her eyes sparkle. She nudges her nose against yours. 

Then, sparking you out of your love-filled bliss, there’s a knock at the door. 

“Tara. YN’s parents will be home any minute,” It’s Sam, sounding aggrieved, “You’re making the ceiling shake and the two of you sound like something out of a bad 80s porno. You might want to tone it down a bit.” 

Tara rolls her eyes. 

Embarrassment flushes through you.  It stains the tips of your ears and your cheeks bright red. 

“Thanks Sam, fuck off now please.” Tara asks. 

You groan, and push her off you. 

She sits up on her side, pout on her lips. 

“Don’t worry about her, she’s just mad she’s not getting any.” Tara says. She leans forward to place a gentle kiss on your lips. 

You pull her into your side, press your lips to the top of her head as she settles against your chest. 

The events from the day weigh over you like a wet blanket. But you can’t bring yourself to worry about them, not tonight. Tonight, all you want to do is be with her. Love her. 

Make your parents probably hate her even more. 

Judging by the way her hands run up your thigh, she’s on the same page. 

Ghostface is tomorrow’s problem. But tonight? Tara’s naked, and beautiful and yours and in your bed. 

Ghostface can wait.

[baileypie-writes]

Hey pookie it's me and what about veneer x male reader where reader is just overworking and doesn't know when to stop working with readers job can you make him a drafter pwetty pwease🥺

(I'm sorry for all the veneer requests I'm getting destroyed by work and I'm starved of veneer comfort)

A/N ~ Sure pookie! I don’t mind the requests at all, so send as many as you’d like! I also don’t know much about being a drafter, so I’m sorry if anything’s inaccurate!🩷

~Time to Stop~

Veneer x Male!Overworking!Drafter!Reader

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Relationship: Romantic

Synopsis: You’ve been overworking yourself, and Veneer’s not having it.

Warnings: Reader overworking himself, Veneer lecturing Reader

“Just finish this drawing, and then you can rest.”

That’s what you’ve told yourself six times. So obviously, you haven’t gotten your rest yet. You don’t know why you have so much trouble stopping. You just feel the need to constantly be working. You’ve been working nonstop for almost three days, and your wrist was killing you. Not to mention, you’re absolutely exhausted. But you won’t stop.

~~~~

“Why won’t he pick up? Do you think he’s okay?” Veneer asked his sister. He’s tried calling you seven times already, and you haven’t answered. He was getting really worried, and starting to pace.

“Veneer, for like, the millionth time, I do not know! If you’re so concerned, just go visit him.” Velvet responded, just wanting her brother to leave her alone.

“You know what, I will!” His mood changed to a more happy one, excited to see you. He grabbed his car keys, and drove to your work.

~~~~

The moment Veneer arrived, he was frantically searching for you. When he finally found you, he called out your name, causing you to jump. He ran into your arms. “You’re okay!”

“Uh… yeah? Oh course I’m okay, why wouldn’t I be?” You asked, puzzled.

Veneer pulled away. “Because you haven’t answered any of my calls! I’ve tried calling you so many times!”

You were slightly shocked and confused, so you pulled your phone out of your bag. Seven missed calls. “Oh…. sorry. I guess I was so busy, I didn’t notice.”

Veneer scoffed, his lips forming into a pout. “Yeah. Of course you were busy. You’ve been busy for the past three days! I haven’t even seen your face until now! Why even are you so busy? Is it your boss? I can talk to them if they’re making you work too hard!”

“Oh, no, that’s okay! It’s not my boss. I guess one day I just… kept going and never stopped.”

Veneer didn’t quite understand what you meant. He glanced over at your desk, looking at the many papers, supplies and your cluttered computed screen.

“Why? You look so tired, so why haven’t you stopped?” He asked, genuinely confused.

“I don’t know. I just get like this sometimes. I start working, and I don’t let myself stop.” You sat on your chair, taking a much needed rest. You looked sleep deprived and malnourished, and Veneer did not like it.

“Babe, that not okay. You need to stop working.”

“I know… but I just want to finish this one-“

“No (name). It’s time to stop. Right now.” Veneer pulled you out of your chair, and grabbed your bag for you. You were going to protest some more, but he had this strict and determined look that made you cave.

“Fine.” Veneer smiled, and you both went to his car. You didn’t realize how tired you really were, until you fell asleep in the passenger’s seat.

Veneer promised himself that he’d never let you overwork yourself again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[luvsfootball]

jealous boy - ruben dias.

requested by - anon.

request - omg i can’t believe you write for ruben dias 🙌 i love your fics. could you write one where he brings you to practice around his teammates, and he doesn’t like how well you’re getting with them, and when you guys get home he blows up out of jealousy

ruben loved you so much.

you had only been together for around six months, but he was certain you were the one for him.

he had met you when you moved into the apartment next to his and he offered to help you bring the boxes inside. you got on like a house on fire and were friends for around two months before he finally asked you to be his.

during that time, his teammates were hearing about you constantly. whenever they were having a conversation about something, ruben would always find a way to bring you into it.

“so when are we going to meet the y/n?” erling asked one day before a match. ruben had never thought about that.

his teammates were a big part of his life, practically his brothers; but so were you.

he brought the idea up to you one night when he was at your place for the night, and you were more than happier to come along to training the next day.

you met bernardo first. he was nice to you, cracking jokes about ruben’s sense of style and how he can’t cook.

but when it got to jack and phil, ruben couldn’t help but feel annoyed at you three. you were getting on like a house on fire, your laughter bouncing off the walls as he watched on.

before you left, he fumed when you and jack shared instagrams, and phil added you as well.

“baby, what’s wrong?” you asked, reaching to grab his hand but he pulled it away, starting the car and taking the wheel instead.

he didn’t answer you and the whole car ride was spent in silence.

“seriously? the silent treatment?”

ruben ignored your scoff as you rode the lift, and when you stepped out, you pulled your own apartment keys out and slammed the door in his face.

for the most part, he felt bad. he was the one that invited you to come and he was the one who couldn’t handle his jealousy. but he still didn’t see why you had to talk so much to jack and phil.

+

frantic knocking on your door woke you from your afternoon nap, and you shot up out of bed thinking something was wrong.

you rushed to the door and opened it wide, seeing ruben on the other side. was he drunk?

“what the hell do you want, ruben?”

he felt his heart sink when you used his full name. you always said rubes or baby. never ruben.

“i didn’t like them talking to you like that.”

you came to the conclusion he wasn’t drunk but frustrated. god knows how many times he had ran his fingers through his hair.

“who?”

“phil and jack!”

he entered your apartment without your permission and if it wasn’t for the other people in the building, you would have kicked him right back out.

you sighed as you watched him stand next to a cabinet, staring at a photo of you two. “ruben, you asked me to go and meet everyone. i couldn’t exactly ignore them.”

“i know, but you didn’t have to talk with them like you were. all flirty when that should be for me and only me.”

“what do you mean, flirty? i would never even bat an eyelid towards another man, so i don’t know where you got that assumption from!”

you didn’t realise you were chest to chest with ruben until he grabbed your wrists softly, looking down as if he was ashamed.

“i know, okay? and i’m sorry for the way i acted but i’ve never loved anyone like this before and it’s scary.”

you pulled your hands from his grip and grabbed his cheeks, smiling softly. “i love you too, ruben.”