#the high road and the low road au

[ifuckslasherz]

KEEPSAKE:: leon kennedy

WARNING:: 80's au, playboy! Re2!Leon, car sex, riding, hair pulling, oral, fingering, teasing, fingering, slight edging, overstimulation, slight rejection, teasing, sexual tension

SUMMARY:: after a failed date you expect some sort of a reward for putting up with Leon who still seems to be hung up on his ex.

Leon Kennedy has been on many dates. One would even say that he has hooked up half of the girls after a date— which were all unsuccessful. It's not that there was anything wrong in particular with the people he has taken out, it's just that none of them have piqued his interest for a second one. And it just so happens that you had been taken on one of said dates.

When Leon asked you out on a date to the movies and dinner you hadn't expected the movie to be some trashy chic flick about an American actress going to Italy and falling in love with her friend's married Italian lover. It dragged on for 2 hours and you couldn't stand to sit through the first minute of opening credits. But not only did you sit through a silent car ride on your way to the restaurant but when you sat inside the restaurant it felt like this terrible date would never end.

"I used to be on the basketball before I graduated and I started working with my friend, she's really cool- she even has a neck tattoo" he rambled on and on for what felt like a lifetime. Only nodding off as he rambled on and on about working at the old movie theater and something about how his manager only shows up to be a dick.

But low and behold the lovely waitress with a tight lipped smile "would you like your bill.. or would you like me to swing by a little later?" She asked politely looking at the both of you. "You can give us our check now" you answered quickly before pulling 30 dollars out of your pocket when the check was set on the table.

Once Leon had caught his eyes on the cash in your hand he shook his head "you don't have to pay, what kind of guy would I be to make you pay for your food?" He says patting his pockets which makes you roll your eyes "it's fine" you reply flatly pressing the 20 and 10 dollar tip onto the wooden table and like second nature stood from the worn out booth walk to the class doors pushing them open and making a b-line to the boys nice and shining Pontiac.

Leon grew up coddled, he was popular in high school, he had the cutest girl in his grade. Now he's digging it with girls who never made it past the first date because he never could find a bond with them, while working at the local theater and losing all cool points he's earned on his way up in high school. Well on your end you didn't care for his past reputation, you didn't care for this date and the fact that you haven't had an ounce of fun since you had walked past your front porch was eating you up inside.

When you heard keys jangling in an instant you turned your head being met with Leon walking over to the drivers side of the car. Unlocking the doors you both get in and once the car starts you fiddle with the radio never wanting to sit through silence and letting the hum of the radio come out softly through the speakers.

You were so caught up in your thoughts you had failed to realize how dark it had started to get, the once blue sky turned to deep orange and yellow hues. Watching as the power lines zipped past you in a blur, if you were going to sit in this car you would be damned if you had to sit in awkward silence and do nothing.

Just as Leon had turned onto the highway the road seemingly empty as it got darker out and the headlights of his car lighting up the black asphalt on the road. Your view flickering between the road and Leon who was watching the road with one hand on the wheel as the other slumped against the middle console.

The sight of his thighs sat stiffly while his jaw clenched. "Leon, if you're not over your ex why'd you ask me on a date?" You ask curiously as you tilt your head leaning in a bit pressing the swell of your chest against his hand on the console. "What? I'm over my ex, I have been for a while now. What makes you say that?" He asks as he sputters over his own words at the thought of being hung up over his ex.

"You haven't asked a single thing about me on this date. You really only talked about you, and might I add you even talked about your coworker which really doesn't help your case at all" you say flatly. "Seriously?! I am over my ex I swear" his voice goes up a few octaves higher as he tries to think of something that obscure the idea.

"When was the last time you slept with someone and actually enjoyed it then?" You ask with a twisted grin on your lips. You knew the answer but you wanted to hear it from him, you wanted the satisfaction of hearing the words yourself from his lips. "I don't know? And I'll have you know that I have had great sex without my ex" he snarked at you.

"Yeah your words aren't very convincing like... at all" you say as you push your legs under your thighs "I can change that you know? I don't know if by the end of it you'll even be thinking about her but...I'll occupy your head for a bit" you say, trailing your hand into his lap and rubbing against his thigh.

"What are you doing?" He scoffed as his eyes flicker from his lap with your hand trailing closer to his bulge earning a small gasp from him eliciting a small giggle from your lips loud enough to hear over the buzzing music. "Just keep looking at the road" you whisper as you press your lips to his warm cheek.

Your hand moving closer to his half hard crotch clad in jeans as you palm him, the feeling of fabric pressed against him has him groaning and running a hand through his dark hair in exasperation. "It's not really a good idea to be doing this... while I'm driving" he reasons, which makes you shake your head with a soft smile. "Then focus" you look up at him while your hands move to unzip his pants and unbutton them as well letting him lift his hips while you pull down his jeans far enough over his thighs.

"Shit" he harshly whispers at the feeling of your wet palm wrapping around his cock leaking precum and glistening under the orange and yellow street lights on the side of the road. Taking his cock into your fist, slowly jerking and teasing the tip with your thumb has the boy biting his plump lips while choking back a small groan.

The feeling of your warm tongue has the boy breathing heavily as his foot presses onto the gas harder spreading the car up. "Ease up, you want the car ride to last don't you?" You ask as you look up at him, your tongue pressing flatly against his tip and taking him deeper, letting your lips wrap around him.

The warmth of your mouth around him almost has his eyes rolling, letting his hand rest on the back of your head, needing to push your head down further but letting you slowly take him into the back of your throat as the tip of your nose brushes against his stomach.

Pulling back slowly you began to bob your head, the wet sound of your mouth around his cock has him light headed as he drives slower than he normally would on the highway. Flexing his thighs as the feeling "You're so good at this- fuck y/n" he moaned as his jaw slacks at the feeling of your tongue running against the vein on the underside of his cock that had him nearly shivering.

"keep going. Don't stop" he groaned, letting his head fall back. His hair messily pushed against his forehead as it was soaked from the sweat building at his hairline and his eyes rolled back "you're gonna make me cum" he says breathily as he pushes your hair out of your way turning it into a makeshift ponytail.

Using your hand you hollow your cheeks as your hand takes care of what your mouth wasn't and it had him absolutely lost, still trying to focus on the road he makes a turn to the next exit and choosing to go the longer route to your house.

His breathing becomes more and more unhinged as you use both your hands to jerk him off and licking his tip has him moaning while almost swerving into a random mailbox catching himself before doing so. "I'm so close" he moaned as he clutched your hair tighter realizing how agonizing it felt when you hadn't changed your pace at all.

"Please go faster" he begged, making you smile a bit as you moved your hands away from him completely and taking him into your mouth while he bucked his hips desperately for a release. you could, feeling the tip nudge the back of your throat while your nose was nestled tightly against his pubic bone. While your eyes are closed tight to focus on relaxing your gag reflex to not ruin the tight feeling for him you move faster hoping that would push him over the edge.

"Oh- fuck" he gasped as he gripped the wheel tighter as he felt his orgasm crash on him like a ton of bricks. "I can't...I can't keep driving or I'm gonna crash- fuck" he whined as he pulls onto the side of the road and cutting the lights and engine. The only sounds that could be heard were Leon's heavy breathing.

Watching as you pull back with glossy eyes as your cheeks and chin covered in spit and cum which has his head pulled back against the headrest completely dazed. "You okay?" You ask as you wipe off your face with small puffs of laughter falling past your lips. "I'm good...really good" he says with a faint smirk.

"I wanna make you feel good too" he says, his eyes trailing over to your fully clothed figure, your eyes low and red almost as if you had been high, lips puffy and swollen. "You can do that" you nod as you manage to crawl over the middle console and sit against his thighs, your skirt riding up your legs.

"You're so wet" he whispered as he felt the warmth of your slick panties stick against his skin making you look down where you had been sat with slight embarrassment. His finger rubs against your clothes slit watching as the wet patch on your panties becomes bigger. Pressing his thumb down on your clit had a moan falling past your lips as your hand trails to his wrist pulling his hand past the waist band on your panties.

"I need you, here." You mumbled as you felt his nimble fingers running against your slit making you whine desperately. Grinding against his fingers you can hear his laughing breathily as he watches you fall apart on top of him. "I'd call you desperate if I didn't want to fuck you so bad" he says as he presses his forehead against yours, watching the way you get off could make him cum untouched.

"Just shut up" you whined out with a small gasp pressing your lips against his hungrily your hand raking through his hair, your tongues lapping against the others and sucking on his pulling away with a small 'pop' you bite your lip as you keep eye contact with him. "Fuck this feels so good" you whisper your forehead still pressed against his as he rubs your clit in figure 8's.

"Yeah?" He asks as he pulls his hand away and out of your panties earning a small whine from you. His fingers pushing your panties to the side. "Why?" You practically cry out. Leon's eyes never leaving yours watching them gloss over from the loss of pleasure. "I want you to cum with me" he says just above a whisper while he takes his length into his hand pumping himself a few times before pressing his tip against your entrance and with a harsh hiss he's slowly pushing inside your tight walls.

The warm and wet feeling has him drunk on the feeling of you around him. Pushing his seat back far enough that both of you are comfortable as Leon watches you grind your hips against him slowly as he bottoms out inside you, the feeling being all too good for his liking.

"It's so big" you groan as your hands press against his abdomen lightly bracing yourself to start moving. The soft thudding of your thighs meeting against yours sends goosebumps all over your skin. Leon couldn't possibly keep his hands to himself as he finds the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head.

"No bra?" He groaned watching as your bare chest bounced with every movement you made which has you smiling with your lip caught between your teeth. "You're so big" you slur seeing how good he filled you up to the brim your arms wrap around his neck your foreheads pressed together as you watch his begin to slowly move. Leon couldn't get enough of the sight as his cock disappeared inside your Pussy.

His cock buried deep inside you that you moan and dig crescent shaped dents into his skin. set a pace for bouncing in his lap. The feeling of your velvety walls tightening around making him choke back a moan.

"Oh- god" you whisper shakily. His hands holding onto your hips guiding a pace, the soft sound of skin slapping with your small moans reverberated through the car.

You looked so good with your chest bouncing and your hair all messy. You looked good with a small sheen of sweat on your skin and your makeup smeared, he was addicted to the sight.

He slowly thrusts into you letting you get used to his size not realizing you were beginning to bounce yourself on his lap desperate to feel pleasure. His pace practically teases you and shows you how desperate you really are from your small moans whimpers.

Leon; eager to let his load off inside you, holds your thighs stopping you from bouncing any longer and begins to thrust his hips up into you. The feeling of his tip pushing at your cervix.

His hips pushing into you as your thighs and ass jiggle at the repetitive thrusts "oh my god!" You moan as you feel him pounding in a certain part of your walls. You tighten around him as your essence forms a white ring around the base of his dick.

"Just like that" you babble mindlessly as his stomach churns at the words spewing out. "Yeah? Want me to fill you up with my cum?" he groans as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten and Leon's death grip on the fat of your thighs almost sends you over the edge if it wasn't for how hard he was pounding you.

he placed his hand on your ass, kneading the flesh harshly as whimpers left his lips at the feeling of your walls closing around him. "Just like that, yes, please please please!!" You beg, feeling yourself getting closer and closer as he punctuates his thrusts. You pull his hair, again and again, harder and you can't help but become more aroused from the sounds he lets fall from his lips.

Sitting up completely Leon doesn't hesitate to kiss against your warm skin, from the valley between your breast to sucking on your nipples, the warmth of his mouth has you utterly out of it while you fuck yourself on his cock begging for some sort of release. The sloppy sounds make your head spin, your hand trailing from his hair to between the both of you.

Rubbing your clit in hopes that this would send you closer to your orgasm. "Fuck- oh fuck" he moaned against your chest as you clench around him as he felt absolutely pussy drunk with you on top of him. Leon could barely comprehend a thing as he stops you all together.

"Get up" he said breathlessly as you push yourself off of his lap, you slowly start to crawl back into the passenger seat thinking even the sex was a complete bust. But the feeling of his hands on your waist keeps you from moving. "Bend over into the seat" he says moving out of your way as you feel a smirk on your pretty lips.

With your back arched and your face pushed against the headrest you knew that you were done for, Leon pushing inside you again and without a care in the world thrusts into you at the same pace he was going before.

"Harder- please" you moan out as the windows begin to fog over, Leon begins to buck his hips into you at a faster pace as the slick sound of your pussy and precum mix loudly along with the patterning of your thighs slapping against his. You feel ecstasy at the way he made you feel so full.

His large hands onto your spine as making your chest push into the seat, not that you minded at all. Leon from behind absolutely loses his mind as his fingers card through his brown locks. Fucking into you with harsh and sharp thrusts that have your toes curling. Your ass bouncing against his lap has him tossing his head back leaving a stinging sensation in both of your thighs.

you begin to bounce and grind against him to meet his hips. It felt like he was in your stomach and you didn't mind at all, your hands the seat tighter as he used his other hand to wrap around your throat pulling your back against his chest.

"Aw look at you, all fucked out. What would your friends think about me bending you over in my car and fucking you like a slut hm?" He asks as his grip around your throat tightens, you couldn't even gather your words as he hits a spot that has you breathing shakily and your moans are even more louder.

"Right here? Does it feel good here?" He asks as he drags his cock against that same spot again and again "yeah, it feels so fucking good Leon" you moan as your eyes roll back. The feeling of his sweet lips on your skin as you feel like you're in heaven.

Your thighs are practically shaking at the feeling, pleasure practically taking over your body as Leon pounds you into his front seat without a single care in the world. Pushing your face against the seat while he becomes sloppy and rougher with every passing second you could feel the pressure in the pit of your stomach growing and waiting to be released.

"I can't take it" you moan as you shake your head "I'm gonna cum" you whimper as you feel warm tears slide down your cheeks. "I think you can baby, you wanna cum so bad right? So take what I give you" he orders sweetly in a faux tone. His thrusts are non stop and you can't help but let the pleasure envelope you.

"Oh fuck" you gasp as the feeling of release comes closer "cum for me. I know you can" he coos at you while pulling your hips into his harder than before tipping you over the edge as your walls clench around him sporadically earning a guttural moan ripping through his throat.

"I'm close, where do you want it?" He asks as he continues to fuck into you "inside. Please cum inside me" you whimpered before you felt the pressure in your stomach let loose "I got you, you're okay" he praised as his fingers rubbed down your spine leaving goosebumps up and down your body.

A few more thrusts slow and deep have your toes curling and sending Leon into an orgasm struck daze. "Fuck you feel so good" he groans as his hands rub against the red warm skin of your ass. Leaning of you and kissing up your spine as you both bask in your pre orgasm clarity.

"I see why so many girls like you Leon" you say breathlessly with a smile making him chuckle as he runs a hand through his hair slowly pulling out of you with a hiss due to loss of warmth. "Well it's a pleasure to live up to your standards" he says as he reaches into his glove box and pulls out wipes cleaning you up.

The both of you getting dressed again and seated, Leon starts the car and the both of you are back on the road with the faint sound of music filling the air as the both of you exchange small words every few minutes until Leon turned on the road your house was located.

Pulling into your gravel driveway he parks and opens his door walking onto your side and opening it offering a hand which makes your brows shoot up at the sudden chivalry, taking his hand and shutting the door behind you he walks you to your fronts door and as you turn to look at him you see the small smile on his lips. "So...this was nice" he says as he looks down at his feet.

It wasn't.... Not until the both of you had sex in the back of his car at least. "Right... just- let me know when you get over Ada" you pat his chest with an awkward grin on face as you watch his head fall back letting out a groan. "I told you. I'm over her- seriously we broke up and I haven't talked to her since" he shakes his head.

You could tell by the tone in his voice he wasn't, but Leon was eager to see you again so it meant he was moving on. One step forward. "Let me know when you're ready for something serious, Kennedy."

You snap your fingers as you give yourself an idea, your hands find themselves under your skirt which had Leon in a small shock at your actions seeing a flash of your pink panties as you pull them down your legs and balling it in your hand. "Until then have the panties as a keepsake to get off whenever you like" you say, stuffing the ball of wet fabric into his pockets. and with that you leave him at your front door with his hand in his pockets clutching your frilly panties.

Opening the door and shutting it behind you Leon stands at your doorstep biting his lip turning on his heel and walking back to his car watching how the windows were still a bit foggy. Opening the driver side to the door and sitting down in his seat he sighs, dragging his finger across the glass in the shape of a U and to small dots in the shape of the tip of his index finger a smiley face left behind.

"I gotta get her on that second date" he huffed to himself as he pulled out of the driveway of your home.

[neo-percs]

KEEPSAKE:: na jaemin

WARNING:: 80's au, playboy! Jaemin, car sex, riding, hair pulling, oral, fingering, teasing, fingering, slight edging, overstimulation, slight rejection, teasing, sexual tension

SUMMARY:: after a failed date you expect some sort of a reward for putting up with Jaemin Na who still seems to be hung up on his ex.

Jaemin Na has been on many dates. One would even say that he has hooked up with half of girls after a date— which were all unsuccessful. It's not that there was anything wrong in particular with the people he has taken out, it's just that none of them have piqued his interest for a second one. And it just so happens that you had been taken on one of the said dates.

When Jaemin asked you out on a date to the movies and dinner you hadn't expected the movie to be some trashy chic flick about an American actress going to Italy and falling in love with her friend's married Italian lover. It dragged on for 2 hours and you couldn't stand to sit through the first minute of opening credits. But not only did you sit through a silent car ride on your way to the restaurant but when you sat inside the restaurant it felt like this terrible date would never end.

"I used to be on the volleyball team before I graduated and I started working with my friend, she's cool- she even has a neck tattoo" he rambled on and on for what felt like a lifetime. Only nodded off as he rambled on and on about working at the old movie theater and something about how his manager only shows up to be a dick.

But low and behold the lovely waitress with a tight-lipped smile "Would you like your bill.. or would you like to swing by a little later?" She asked politely looking at the both of you. "You can give us our check now" you answered quickly before pulling 30 dollars out of your pocket when the check was set on the table.

Once Jaemin had caught his eyes on the cash in your hand he shook his head "You don't have to pay, what kind of guy would I be to make you pay for your food?" He says patting his pockets which makes you roll your eyes "It's fine" you reply flatly pressing the 20 and 10 dollar tip onto the wooden table and like second nature stand from the worn-out booth walk to the class doors pushing them open and making a b-line to the boys nice and shining Pontiac.

Jaemin grew up coddled, he was popular in high school, and he had the cutest girl in his grade. Now he's digging it with girls who never made it past the first date because he never could find a bond with them while working at the local theater and losing all the cool points he's earned on his way up in high school. Well on your end you didn't care for his past reputation, you didn't care for this date and the fact that you haven't had an ounce of fun since you had walked past your front porch was eating you up inside.

When you heard keys jangling in an instant you turned your head being met with Jaemin walking over to the driver's side of the car. Unlocking the doors you both get in and once the car starts you fiddle with the radio never wanting to sit through silence and letting the hum of the radio come out softly through the speakers.

You were so caught up in your thoughts you had failed to realize how dark it had started to get, the once blue sky turned to deep orange and yellow hues. Watching as the power lines zipped past you in a blur, if you were going to sit in this car you would be damned if you had to sit in awkward silence and do nothing.

Just as Jaemin had turned onto the highway the road was seemingly empty as it got darker out and the headlights of his car lighting up the black asphalt on the road. Your view flickering between the road and Jaemin who was watching the road with one hand on the wheel as the other slumped against the middle console.

The sight of his thighs sat stiffly while his jaw clenched. "Jaemin, if you're not over your ex why'd you ask me on a date?" You ask curiously as you tilt your head leaning in a bit pressing the swell of your chest against his hand on the console. "What? I'm over my ex, I have been for a while now. What makes you say that?" He asks as he sputters over his own words at the thought of being hung up on his ex.

"You haven't asked a single thing about me on this date. You only talked about you, and might I add you even talked about your coworker which doesn't help your case at all" you say flatly. "Seriously?! I am over my ex I swear" his voice goes up a few octaves higher as he tries to think of something that obscures the idea.

"When was the last time you slept with someone and enjoyed it then?" You ask with a twisted grin on your lips. You knew the answer but you wanted to hear it from him, you wanted the satisfaction of hearing the words yourself from his lips. "I don't know. And I'll have you know that I have had great sex without my ex" he snarled at you.

"Yeah your words aren't very convincing like... at all," you say as you push your legs under your thighs "I can change that you know? I don't know if by the end of it, you'll even be thinking about her but...I'll occupy your head for a bit," you say, trailing your hand into his lap and rubbing against his thigh.

"What are you doing?" He scoffed as his eyes flicked from his lap with your hand trailing closer to his bulge earning a small gasp from him eliciting a small giggle from your lips loud enough to hear over the buzzing music. "Just keep looking at the road" you whisper as you press your lips to his warm cheek.

Your hand moves closer to his half-hard crotch clad in jeans as you palm him, the feeling of fabric pressed against him has him groaning and running a hand through his dark hair in exasperation. "It's not a good idea to be doing this... while I'm driving" he reasons, which makes you shake your head with a soft smile. "Then focus" You look up at him while your hands move to unzip his pants and unbutton them as well letting him lift his hips while you pull down his jeans far enough over his thighs.

"Shit" he harshly whispers at the feeling of your wet palm wrapping around his cock leaking precum and glistening under the orange and yellow street lights on the side of the road. Taking his cock into your fist, slowly jerking and teasing the tip with your thumb has the boy biting his plump lips while choking back a small groan.

The feeling of your warm tongue has the boy breathing heavily as his foot presses onto the gas harder spreading the car up. "Ease up, you want the car ride to last don't you?" You ask as you look up at him, your tongue pressing flatly against his tip and taking him deeper, letting your lips wrap around him.

The warmth of your mouth around him almost has his eyes rolling, letting his hand rest on the back of your head, needing to push your head down further but letting you slowly take him into the back of your throat as the tip of your nose brushes against his stomach.

Pulling back slowly you began to bob your head, the wet sound of your mouth around his cock has him lightheaded as he drives slower than he normally would on the highway. Flexing his thighs at the feeling "You're so good at this- fuck y/n" he moaned as his jaw slacked at the feeling of your tongue running against the vein on the underside of his cock that had him nearly shivering.

"keep going. Don't stop" he groaned, letting his head fall back. His hair was messily pushed against his forehead as it was soaked from the sweat building at his hairline and his eyes rolled back "You're gonna make me cum" he says breathily as he pushes your hair out of your way turning it into a makeshift ponytail.

Using your hand you hollow your cheeks as your hand takes care of what your mouth wasn't and it had him lost, still trying to focus on the road he makes a turn to the next exit and chooses to go the longer route to your house.

His breathing becomes more and more unhinged as you use both your hands to jerk him off and licking his tip has him moaning while almost swerving into a random mailbox catching himself before doing so. "I'm so close" he moaned as he clutched your hair tighter realizing how agonizing it felt when you hadn't changed your pace at all.

"Please go faster" he begged, making you smile a bit as you moved your hands away from him completely and took him into your mouth while he bucked his hips desperately for a release. you could, feeling the tip nudge the back of your throat while your nose was nestled tightly against his pubic bone. While your eyes are closed tight to focus on relaxing your gag reflex to not ruin the tight feeling for him you move faster hoping that would push him over the edge.

"Oh- fuck" he gasped as he gripped the wheel tighter as he felt his orgasm crash on him like a ton of bricks. "I can't...I can't keep driving or I'm gonna crash- fuck" he whined as he pulls onto the side of the road and cutting the lights and engine. The only sounds that could be heard were Jaemin's heavy breathing.

Watching as you pull back with glossy eyes your cheeks and chin are covered in spit and cum which has his head pulled back against the headrest completely dazed. "You okay?" You ask as you wipe off your face with small puffs of laughter falling past your lips. "I'm good...really good," he says with a faint smirk.

"I wanna make you feel good too," he says, his eyes trailing over to your fully clothed figure, your eyes low and red almost as if you had been high, lips puffy and swollen. "You can do that" You nod as you manage to crawl over the middle console and sit against his thighs, your skirt riding up your legs.

"You're so wet" he whispered as he felt the warmth of your slick panties stick against his skin making you look down where you had been sat with slight embarrassment. His finger rubs against your clothes slit watching as the wet patch on your panties becomes bigger. Pressing his thumb down on your clit had a moan falling past your lips as your hand trailed to his wrist pulling his hand past the waistband of your panties.

"I need you, here." You mumbled as you felt his nimble fingers running against your slit making you whine desperately. Grinding against his fingers you can hear him laughing breathily as he watches you fall apart on top of him. "I'd call you desperate if I didn't want to fuck you so bad," he says as he presses his forehead against yours, watching the way you get off could make him cum untouched.

"Just shut up" you whined out with a small gasp pressing your lips against his hungrily your hand raking through his hair, your tongues lapping against the others and sucking on his pulling away with a small 'pop' you bite your lip as you keep eye contact with him. "Fuck this feels so good" you whisper your forehead still pressed against his as he rubs your clit in Figure 8's.

"Yeah?" He asks as he pulls his hand away and out of your panties earning a small whine from you. His fingers push your panties to the side. "Why?" You practically cry out. Jaemin's eyes never leave yours watching them gloss over from the loss of pleasure. "I want you to cum with me," he says just above a whisper while he takes his length into his hand pumping himself a few times before pressing his tip against your entrance, and with a harsh hiss he's slowly pushing inside your tight walls.

The warm and wet feeling has him drunk on the feeling of you around him. Pushing his seat back far enough that both of you are comfortable Jaemin watches you grind your hips against him slowly as he bottoms out inside you, the feeling being all too good for his liking.

"It's so big" you groan as your hands press against his abdomen lightly bracing yourself to start moving. The soft thudding of your thighs meeting against yours sends goosebumps all over your skin. Jaemin couldn't possibly keep his hands to himself as he finds the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head.

"No bra?" He groaned watching as your bare chest bounced with every movement you made which has you smiling with your lip caught between your teeth. "You're so big" you slur seeing how good he filled you up to the brim your arms wrap around his neck your foreheads pressed together as you watch his begin to slowly move. Jaemin couldn't get enough of the sight as his cock disappeared inside your Pussy.

His cock is buried deep inside you moan and dig crescent-shaped dents into his skin. set a pace for bouncing in his lap. The feeling of your velvety walls tightening around makes him choke back a moan.

"Oh- god," you whisper shakily. His hands holding onto your hips guiding a pace, the soft sound of skin slapping with your small moans reverberated through the car.

You looked so good with your chest bouncing and your hair all messy. You looked good with a small sheen of sweat on your skin and your makeup smeared, he was addicted to the sight.

He slowly thrusts into you letting you get used to his size not realizing you were beginning to bounce yourself on his lap desperate to feel pleasure. His pace practically teases you and shows you how desperate you are from your small moans and whimpers.

Jaemin; eager to let his load off inside you, holds your thighs stopping you from bouncing any longer, and begins to thrust his hips up into you. The feeling of his tip pushing at your cervix.

His hips push into you as your thighs and ass jiggle at the repetitive thrusts "Oh my god!" You moan as you feel him pounding in a certain part of your walls. You tighten around him as your essence forms a white ring around the base of his dick.

"Just like that" you babble mindlessly as his stomach churns at the words spewing out. "Yeah? Want me to fill you up with my cum?" he groans as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten and Jaemin's death grip on the fat of your thighs almost sends you over the edge if it wasn't for how hard he was pounding you.

he placed his hand on your ass, kneading the flesh harshly as whimpers left his lips at the feeling of your walls closing around him. "Just like that, yes, please please please!!" You beg, feeling yourself getting closer and closer as he punctuates his thrusts. You pull his hair, again and again, harder and you can't help but become more aroused from the sounds he lets fall from his lips.

Sitting up completely Jaemin doesn't hesitate to kiss against your warm skin, from the valley between your breast to sucking on your nipples, the warmth of his mouth has you utterly out of it while you fuck yourself on his cock begging for some sort of release. The sloppy sounds make your head spin, your hand trailing from his hair to between the both of you.

Rubbing your clit in hopes that this would send you closer to your orgasm. "Fuck- oh fuck" he moaned against your chest as you clench around him as he felt pussy drunk with you on top of him. Jaemin could barely comprehend a thing as he stopped you together.

"Get up," he said breathlessly as you pushed yourself off of his lap, you slowly started to crawl back into the passenger seat thinking even the sex was a complete bust. But the feeling of his hands on your waist keeps you from moving. "Bend over into the seat," he says moving out of your way as you feel a smirk on your pretty lips.

With your back arched and your face pushed against the headrest you knew that you were done for, Jaemin pushed inside you again and without a care in the world thrusts into you at the same pace he was going before.

"Harder- please" you moan out as the windows begin to fog over, Jaemin begins to buck his hips into you at a faster pace as the slick sound of your pussy and precum mix loudly along with the patterning of your thighs slapping against his. You feel ecstasy at the way he made you feel so full.

His large hands onto your spine making your chest push into the seat, not that you minded at all. Jaemin from behind absolutely loses his mind as his fingers card through his brown locks. Fucking into you with harsh and sharp thrusts that have your toes curling. Your ass bouncing against his lap has him tossing his head back leaving a stinging sensation in both of your thighs.

you begin to bounce and grind against him to meet his hips. It felt like he was in your stomach and you didn't mind at all, your hands the seat tighter as he used his other hand to wrap around your throat pulling your back against his chest.

"Aw look at you, all fucked out. What would your friends think about me bending you over in my car and fucking you like a slut hm?" He asks as his grip around your throat tightens, you can't even gather your words as he hits a spot that has you breathing shakily and your moans are even louder.

"Right here? Does it feel good here?" He asks as he drags his cock against that same spot again and again "Yeah, it feels so fucking good Jaem" you moan as your eyes roll back. The feeling of his sweet lips on your skin as you feel like you're in heaven.

Your thighs are practically shaking at the feeling, pleasure practically taking over your body as Jaemin pounds you into his front seat without a single care in the world. Pushing your face against the seat while he becomes sloppy and rougher with every passing second you could feel the pressure in the pit of your stomach growing and waiting to be released.

"I can't take it" you moan as you shake your head "I'm gonna cum" you whimper as you feel warm tears slide down your cheeks. "I think you can baby, you wanna cum so bad right? So take what I give you" he orders sweetly in a faux tone. His thrusts are nonstop and you can't help but let the pleasure envelop you.

"Oh fuck" you gasp as the feeling of release comes closer "cum for me. I know you can" he coos at you while pulling your hips into his harder than before tipping you over the edge as your walls clench around him sporadically earning a guttural moan ripping through his throat.

"I'm close, where do you want it?" He asks as he continues to fuck into you "Inside. Please cum inside me" you whimpered before you felt the pressure in your stomach let loose "I got you, you're okay" he praised as his fingers rubbed down your spine leaving goosebumps up and down your body.

A few more thrusts slow and deep have your toes curling and sending Jaemin into an orgasm-struck daze. "Fuck you feel so good" he groans as his hands rub against the red warm skin of your ass. Leaning off you and kissing up your spine as you both bask in your pre-orgasm clarity.

"I see why so many girls like you Jaemin," you say breathlessly with a smile making him chuckle as he runs a hand through his hair slowly pulling out of you with a hiss due to loss of warmth. "Well it's a pleasure to live up to your standards," he says as he reaches into his glove box and pulls out wipes cleaning you up.

The both of you get dressed again and are seated, Jaemin starts the car and the both of you are back on the road with the faint sound of music filling the air as the both of you exchange small words every few minutes until Jaemin turns on the road your house was located.

Pulling into your gravel driveway he parks s and opens his door walking onto your side and opening it offering a hand that makes your brows shoot up at the sudden chivalry, taking his hand and shutting the door behind you he walks you to your front door and as you turn to look at him you see the small smile on his lips. "So...this was nice," he says as he looks down at his feet.

It wasn't... Not until the both of you had sex in the back of his car at least. "Right... just- let me know when you get over Chae" You pat his chest with an awkward grin on your face as you watch his head fall back letting out a groan. "I told you. I'm over her- seriously we broke up and I haven't talked to her since" he shakes his head.

You could tell by the tone in his voice he wasn't, but Jaemin was eager to see you again so it meant he was moving on. One step forward. "Let me know when you're ready for something serious, Jaemin."

You snap your fingers as you give yourself an idea, your hands find themselves under your skirt which has Jaemin in a small shock at your actions seeing a flash of your pink panties as you pull them down your legs and ball it in your hand. "Until then have the panties as a keepsake to get off whenever you like," you say, stuffing the ball of wet fabric into his pockets. and with that, you leave him at your front door with his hand in his pockets clutching your frilly panties.

Opening the door and shutting it behind you Jaemin stands at your doorstep biting his lip turning on his heel and walking back to his car watching how the windows were still a bit foggy. Opening the driver's side to the door and sitting down in his seat he sighs, dragging his finger across the glass in the shape of a U and to small dots in the shape of the tip of his index finger a smiley face left behind.

"I gotta get her on that second date" he huffed to himself as he pulled out of the driveway of your home.

[daycourtofficial]

Loving parents, harmless fun

Pairing: Modern!Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 950 | warnings: none

Summary: slice of life gingerfucker where Eris takes his family on a roadtrip and is only slightly annoyed at his son’s choice of car game

Note: this is a part of my gingerfucker series and is for AU day for @erisweekofficial ❤️

“That’s my cow.”

Atlas’s voice rang through the car, a high pitch of excitement to his words as his finger pointed out the window, Leif’s eyes tracking the movement. Eris paid no attention to either of his sons, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Those are my chickens.”

It was a four hour drive to his in-laws house, to see his wife’s brother and his family. He counted down from ten in his head, trying to remind himself that holidays are supposed to be fun. The car was silent as he leaned his head back, his fingers curling around the steering wheel. The soft sounds of Bon Iver came from the speakers, an album that reminds him of cold, dark drives he took in the winters of his youth. It was a rare occasion - no one was begging for him to play Alvin and the Chipmunks or songs about ducks.

There was enough daylight for them to arrive at their destination before sunset, which gave him hope that maybe Atlas wouldn’t stay up too late tonight. Leif had a strict internal clock - he did most things at the exact same time each day. But his oldest, Atlas, was a mystery, his body having no internal clock for him to follow, leaving Eris clueless as to when he would fall asleep or wake up.

Eris maneuvered their vehicle through the curves of the road, taking in how beautiful the pastures around him were. It was the end of autumn when the vibrance of the leaves are going, occasional glimpses of the red and orange hues that he loved seeing so much. Atlas’s excited yell disrupted the too short peace. “That’s my cow!”

“If I have to hear him decide farm animals are his one more time,” Eris trailed off, his annoyance bubbling, his voice low so only you could hear.

“It was your brother who taught him the game.”

Eris didn’t turn to see the smirk on your face, he could tell by your voice that you were amused by Lucien’s never-ending knowledge of what buttons to push to annoy Eris.

It was a simple game - you see a cow, you claim it. It was cute when they were in the city - Atlas would see cows in billboards and claim them. Out in the country where the cows outnumbered the people - less fun.

“I don’t think he should be allowed near children ever again.”

“Oh yeah? Because he’s like every other uncle the kids have and likes to pay attention to them before teaching them annoying games?”

“My thoughts exactly. He’s also annoying so it means I’d see him less.”

“My cows.”

Atlas broke up your conversation, The quip Eris was sure you had ready dying on the tip of your tongue as his anger flared.

“Where are we - cow country?”

“Yes. You insisted we take back roads so the kids would have more sights. And to delay us getting to Rhysand’s.”

Eris should be surprised you saw through his reasoning for adding forty-five minutes to the drive, but he should know better than to think his wife doesn’t see to the root of all of his actions. The main reason you all were driving instead of flying to Rhysand’s home was simple - he wanted an easy escape. If you were flying, flights are planned and you have to wait for the plane. But if you have your car, you can just leave whenever Eris grows frustrated at his annoying in-laws. Or he can make an excuse for a reason to leave.

“My cows.” Leif’s first cows. You cooed, a soft “good job, Leif” whispered to him. Eris could see the tips of his hair from the rearview mirror, but he knew Leif was glowing in the praise from you.

“Why are we visiting again?”

“Because Feyre had their new baby.”

“Oh, that.” He practically deflated in his seat at how good the reason was for going, hoping that somehow the reason had changed and you could all turn around.

“Eris don’t act like you don’t love Nyx.”

He felt the eyeroll before it happened, slowly coming up on a red light. His wife was right - Nyx was an adorable kid who was very good, despite being half Rhysand and spending a good portion of his time with his uncle Cassian.

“My bird.”

Eris sighed through his nose. The car moved past a cemetery and Eris pointed out the window, “look, all of your cows are dead.”

Gasps were heard from all around him as if he just announced something outlandish. You slapped his arm, causing him to wince. “Eris,” his name was a hiss from your mouth, your eyes focused on him and not looking back at your sons. “They’re sensitive about that.”

Your words were mumbled, the sound having to work past your closed jaw to make it to Eris so the boys wouldn’t hear you.

“They’re fine,” he mouthed back to you, trying his best not to coddle them. It was a tricky line - one he needed frequent help navigating. Having a shitty father isn’t really the best role model for a man. A deep insecurity of his - was he being a regular dad or was he being too harsh? His train of thought was interrupted by Atlas’s hands hitting the car window, desperate for everyone’s attention.

“A hospital! My cows are alive again!”

Eris rolled the car to a stop at the red light, his forehead hitting the steering wheel.

“I thought I had won.”

A hand reached out to rub his back for a moment before he lifted his head, waiting for the light to change to green. The car moved forward, a family undeterred.

“My cow.”

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @panther-girl-124

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 25

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: 😁.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The queen snores in her bed. At last, peaceful. You leave her as she is, piled in bedclothes amid the glow of the low-burning fire. You emerge into the corridor, silent, and the door drags closed with a scrape at your cautious pull. The shadow by the pillar shifts.  

You glance over at the guard. Gilles has been relieved of his watch and another man stands in his place. You think you recognise him. He must’ve been one of those which helped the queen seize your cart. The road feels so very long ago and yet there is still much ahead of you. 

“Hold,” the guard warns and gives a whistle, the noise echoing along the high ceilings.  

There’s scuffling further down and you turn to face another silhouette, this one slender and lithe like a wraith. Ezme steps into the light of a lamp and stare at you placidly. She beckons with a hand. 

“Come, maid, I will show you your quarters,” she says. 

You bow your head and go to her. It is unusual you wouldn’t be left to find your way to the servants wing yourself, likely near the kitchens, and yet you are much too weary to question any of it. She turns and you walk at her side. The promise of sleep, even if only a little, has you aching to recline. 

The corridors are quiet but for the soft pad of your footsteps. Fewer lamps light the way than in the daytime and the path grows black. You follow the stirring of the women next to you as she carries on. She touches your arm to stop you, nudging you to the right. You wait and listen as she lifts a latch, the metallic noise cutting through the din, and hinges creak loudly. 

She guides you into the dark chamber by your wrist. It is lit only by moonlight and a brazier burning at the foot of a broad bed. The door clanks shut and you shiver. Ezme moves around you, her skirts brushing your own, and she goes to the low mattress. You squint, these are not servants’ rooms. The bed frame, the brazier, the space swathed in darkness; more often, bodies crowded over bags of hay or on the scant tatters of blankets. 

“You will sleep here,” she says softly, “with me. You will be safe.” 

“Safe? From what?” You croak and rub your cheeks as they burn with fatigue. 

“Need you ask,” she replies knowingly, “it is much too late for those questions. Come, lay, the morning will be upon us swiftly.” 

You don’t argue. She is right. You go to bed and remove your apron and cap. You fold them and put them to the foot of the mattress. She moves a dark square over the blankets towards you. You pause and reach to touch the obscured shape as the dim light offers only vague outline. It’s soft, furry. You feel around and find the familiar rough patch sewn into the lining. It’s the king’s cloak. 

“You will want to keep that close,” she says, “the soldier made certain to leave it for you.” 

“Bryce?” You wonder aloud, “is he your friend?” 

“He is a familiar face,” she shrugs and pulls her dress over her head. “The Lord of the Castle likes him well enough.” 

You shift the cloak over your apron and strip off your outer layer, standing only in your shift. You mirror the maid across from you and slip beneath the thick blankets. A sigh escapes you as your muscles finally release the tension of the day. She is still on her back as you lay upon your side, staring at the low flicker of the brazier against the wall. 

Curiosity nips at your exhaustion. How does a servant come upon a room like this? Is it simply at your expense? For whatever reason Bryce has bid her to keep you close. Certainly, the old soldier is overly cautious. 

Your eyes close before you can think very much on the unexpected resting spot. The day has been turbulent and full of many surprises. You only dread those that await you on the morrow. 

⚔️

Ezme wakes you from a heavy slumber. You both dress in the morning hue, rinsing from a basin before you face another day. You leave the cloak on the assurance it will be waiting for you. A thought glimmers of what the king might think should it go missing. Would he blame you? 

You emerge and part from your nocturnal companion. You procede to the queen’s chambers to find them open and the corridor a titter. A pair of servants, themselves dozy, carry one of her chests through as her shrill cry careens through. You approach as the steadfast guard with the fiery hair watches you with narrow eyes.  

You peer within and find the Queen Jazlene digging through the contents, tossing fabrics without a care, in a desperate search. You are stunned to find her awake with the sunrise but not disheartened. It might be a good omen. 

"Where is it?" She throws her hands up and scowls as her eyes skim around, "you," she points in your direction, "where is my blue dress? The one with the silver lace? It must be here!" 

"Your highness, perhaps another chest," you step inside. 

"You did remember to pack it, didn't you?" She accuses as she stands, "I did bid it." 

"Yes, your highness," you affirm, though it was Merinda who would've taken the order. "Shall I go look in the luggage?" 

"Oh, yes, you shall," she struts toward you, "I will not be dressed as some northern wench for the banquet." 

Banquet? You withhold your curiosity and bow your head. You have a task and it is always better to tend to it without question. 

You spin and hurry from the room. You nearly collide with another servant, a tray in their hands. Another chore you needn't attend. You press on and find your way through the kitchens to the rear of the castle.  

The luggage remains mostly in the stables which entails a venture into the wintry without. You mourn the cloak upon the foot of the bed but it would be worse to flaunt the king's patch so heedlessly. You tuck your hands into your sleeves and put your chin down before you push through, the door resisting your strength as the wind blows against it. 

You stagger through and the heavy wood slams just as quickly as you clear its breadth. The gales are strong but the snow has relented. You see dark bodies speckled amid the white as powder dusts up in heaps. The servants work to clear away the thick piles and make pathways around the castle's yard. 

You cross to the stables and delve into the stink of horses and hay. The beast nicker and neigh as you pass as others doze without notice. You find the luggage, chests still upon carts as others litter the unswept floor. If you find the dress, it might just reek of horse. 

You recognise the crest of Debray upon a chest and the painted sides of a few others. You unstrap several lids and raise them, the cold nipping but sweat rising nonetheless. The longer you sift through the contents, the number your hands and fingers become, the clumsier you are. 

A patch of blue, so pale and shiny it's almost white, gleams from beneath the heaps of cloth. You yank upon it, bringing out several other gowns with the effort, and claim victory. You do not neglect to suss out a pair of slippers and a hair net you think might go with it. You set it aside and pack away the mess you've made, breathless from the expense. 

You hug your lot and curl around the next row of horses, searching out Daisy as she leans her head against Chestnut's dark neck. Their eyes widen at your approach and they huff almost in time. You pat their noses before you apologise that you must leave them. 

Once more, the violent gusts greet you in the open, sending a spiral of snow around you and dusting you with the chill. Your teeth chatter as the wind pushes you from behind and fill your skirts. You can hardly aim your steps as you end up against the castle wall, sidling along until you're at the door. 

Within, the cold follows and lingers in your bones. You flit through the kitchens, pots steam as the large ovens blaze and bodies cluster and clash. You barely avoid a collision as you pass into the corridor. As you step around one figure, another appears. 

“Aye, there the mouse is,” Bryce greets as he folds a leaf around his finger, readying it to pop in his mouth, “I see she’s got you at work already.” 

“Sir,” you stop before the soldier, “how was your night?” 

“Eh, dark,” he shrugs, “and you? The other maid saw to ya?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Very good. If ye can, stay close to that one at the feast,” he girds, “she’s wise. She knows well how to bide the shadows.” 

You nod and hug the fabric, another shiver flowing through you. He tilts his head as he continues to play with the leaf between his fingers. 

“Don’t tell me you were outside without a cloak,” he accuses, “where’s yours, then?” 

“Sir, it was only for a moment--” 

“This cold does not soften for summer maids,” he tuts and shakes his head, “you will make yerself sick and who should have to deal with it, hm? Who should have to hear the king rant of it?” 

“Apologies, I was only in a rush,” you pout. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he steps closer and touches the dress in your arms, “in a rush for flimsy gown. These halls are too cold for satin.” 

“The queen bids it--” 

“Oh, I would expect,” he chortles. 

You purse your lips, slanting them one way then the next, as you recall your task. You watch him pinch the silk before he rescinds his reach. He puts the leaf in his mouth and chews. 

“You said feast and the queen said banquet? Is that this evening?” You wonder. 

“Certainly, is,” he sucks on the sweet leaves, “Lord Vesemir would celebrate our departure most fervently but as any good winter lord, he would not send his guests out in the cold without full bellies.” 

“Oh,” you utter thoughtfully. 

“And I suppose, it will appease the queen,” he adds, “for a time before she is once more miserable in the wildlands.” 

“And we are to leave on the morrow?” 

“Aye, by the nightfall,” he crosses his arms. “They must clear the pass and ready the horses and carts. It will be a labour but best we move on.” 

“I believe so too, sir,” you teethe your lip. 

“Aye, you are prudent, as ever,” he lowers his gaze to the floor, “mouse.” 

You shift on your soles and exhale solemnly, “I must...” 

“Yes, very well, go on to your queen,” he steps aside, “I must find our king. I suspect he might be hounding the lord of this castle, if not sparring with him.” 

There is a reluctance between you as you carry on your way; Bryce to one wing and you to the other, as if to mark the divide of king and queen. You come up the stairs and hurry along, the queen’s doors still ajar. Her voice carries still and servant scuttles out as a plate is hurled after them, crashing onto the floor as it narrowly avoids their foot. 

You slow and cautiously peek into the room. The queen shakes her head and pinches a morsel of brown meat on her plate, eyeing it with scrutiny. For a moment, her face twists, then she forces herself to shove it in her mouth. She chews as a battle rages across her features. 

Her gaze is drawn by your movement and she gulps down her mouthful. She stands, nearly overturning the stool upon which the tray rests. She brings her hands up as she storms over to snatch your armful. You back away as she lets the dress unfurl and you bend to gather up the slippers and hairnet as they fall. 

“Ah, wonderful, a proper attire for my first proper appearance as queen,” she beams and dances around with the dress, “oh, my hair, my hair. You must braid it for me.” 

She lays the gown on the bed and gives it a longing touch before she retreats. She clammers to the plain wooden table upon which she’s had a looking glass propped up. She leans forward as you stand behind her. Her hair remains in the braids she’s worn for some time, looking wilted and ratty from neglect. 

“Yes, your highness.” 

“I suppose the king feels horrid for his display yesterday,” she preens at herself. “He must realise he cannot keep a lady like me cooped up.” 

You think to mention that it is more send-off than anything. That is on Lord Vesemir’s whim, rather than King Geralt’s. At least that’s how you have it. Yet, you know well not to argue. Let Jazlene believe as she well and the world is always a bit more pleasant. 

You set to undoing her hair, gently as you notice how dry it is, whether from the cold or the air. She snaps her fingers and demands another servant bring her the tray off food. She picks at it as you unwind her hair and let it free. 

She looks at herself one way then the other. She smiles and wipes her mouth with her sleeve.  

“I am still pretty, aren’t I?” She asks, “I will be after the child comes, won’t I?” 

You swallow and nod, “yes, your highness.” 

“Gilles, Gilles,” she chimes and waves a hand, “come, come,” she turns in her seat and you pull away from her, not wanting to tug on her locks. “Tell me, how pretty am I?” 

The man steps into the doorway and clears his throat. He looks as sheepish as you’ve ever seen. You glance back at Jazlene as she poses and bats her lashes. 

“You are beautiful, my queen, as the summer sunsets,” he avows. 

There’s a click in your head, a wriggle in your chest, and a churning in your stomach. No. No, it can’t be. She wouldn’t betray her marriage. 

Yet you thought the very same of her husband. That’s different. The king rules all, even the queen. And that she so garishly flaunts her fleeting affections. But how can you judge, when your own folly looms over you like a cloud? 

You think of the king’s story; Cerrill and Wynifred and their forbidden romance. It tints in a different effect now, it aligns more evenly, for you do not see this ending well for either queen or guard should they stray. Just as you don’t see yourself faring any better. 

[alwaysmicado]

Callisto I

10.2k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 9

Series Masterlist | Joel Masterlist | previous | AO3

Warnings: no outbreak AU, implied age gap, emotional hurt/comfort, weed, mention of domestic violence, toxic dynamic, graphic vomiting, emotional rollercoaster, fluff Summary: Your car ride home from the beach is...eventful. Joel does something special for you to express his feelings. A/N: This part was going to be much too long, so I split it in two. It was important for me to post part I of Callisto before my birthday, and I’m so excited that I finally get to share it with you. Happy reading & please let me know your thoughts if you’re up for it. Thank you for your continued support, guys! ♡ Dividers by @/cafekitsune. Songs: Backburner by NIKI & My Exes by Snake City

“Why do you keep coming back?”

You bring the joint to your lips, your fingers brushing lightly against his as he passes it over. You take a deep drag, letting the familiar burn of the weed settle into your lungs before you exhale, slowly, the smoke curling into the night air. It’s a slow haze, softening your anger, making it easier to breathe even if only for a little while. 

The pressure in your chest doesn’t lift—it never does, not really—but the weed at least dulls the edges.

For now, anyway.

The streetlight casts long shadows on the chipped concrete, bathing you both in a murky orange hue. You sit side by side on the curb, the shared joint passing lazily between you, the quiet of the night only disturbed by a dog barking further down the road.

Simon leans back, his shoulders slumped, the hood of his jacket pulled up, obscuring most of his face. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, tracing the outline of his jaw, the way his lips curl around the joint. You hate how he still looks good to you, even after his latest stunt. 

“Why do you keep coming back?” he asks again, his voice low and gravelly, as if he already knows the answer but wants to hear you say it. “If all we do is hurt each other?”

You shrug, looking up at the stars, or what little of them you can see through the haze of city smog. You know the answer, but it feels too pathetic to admit out loud. The truth? It’s not that simple. It never has been.

“Maybe because the pain is addicting,” you whisper, your voice barely cutting through the stillness. “It’s like…a twisted dance, and we can’t stop stepping on each other’s toes.”

Simon smirks, and you catch the briefest glimpse of that crooked smile that makes your heart race. “You always were poetic,” he mutters, his tone tinged with both affection and scorn. He passes you the joint again, and this time, when your fingers brush, it sends a jolt through you—familiar, electric, dangerous.

You take a drag, letting the smoke cloud your thoughts, dull the ache. “I mean it, Simon,” you say, the words coming out slower now, heavy from both the high and the weight of them. “We know how to hurt each other in all the right ways. It’s almost like…we’re better at hurting than loving.”

He chuckles, but it’s empty, hollow. “Maybe we were never supposed to love in the first place,” he says, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Maybe all we’re good at is fucking things up.”

There’s no denying the truth in his words. You’ve been here before, countless times, caught in this cycle of destruction, breaking each other apart piece by piece, only to come back together, craving the chaos more than the calm. Simon would get restless after a while, he’d cheat and lie, you’d find out, you’d scream, cry, threaten to leave, and then—somehow—you’d end up in his arms again.

It was exhausting, suffocating, but it was also magnetic. You didn’t know how to leave. And neither did he.

You sigh, flicking the ashes of the joint onto the ground, your hand trembling slightly. “It’s fucked up, isn’t it?” you say, more to yourself than to him. “The way I can’t seem to let you go, even though I know you’re bad for me.”

He tilts his head, a smirk tugging at his lips as he studies your face for a moment. “Have you ever considered that you’d be a lot happier if you just admitted to yourself that you like it?”

He reaches for the joint, his fingers brushing yours for longer this time, deliberate. “You can keep telling yourself I’m the bad guy all you want, babe,” he says, his voice low, “but we both know you ain’t innocent in this either. You like it. The fighting, the drama, the sex. You like what we have.”

Your stomach tightens at his words, because there’s a part of you that knows he’s right. 

You’ve said things, done things, you’re not proud of. Screamed in his face, hurled insults meant to wound, thrown plates that shattered like the fragile remains of your relationship. And then, when the storm passed, you’d pull him into bed, your anger melting into a desperate kind of need. It was all you knew—this toxic spiral that twisted love and pain together until you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

“Maybe,” you admit softly, feeling the weight of your own guilt settle on your shoulders. “Maybe I do.”

Simon turns to you then, his gaze locking with yours, and for a moment, you can see the cracks in his armor, the vulnerability he never lets anyone else see. “So, what are we doing here?” he asks, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “We’re just gonna keep doing this? Over and over?”

You swallow hard, the question hanging between you like a knife. You know the answer, even if you don’t want to admit it. You’re stuck in this loop, and neither of you knows how to break free.

“I don’t know,” you say, your voice barely audible. “I don’t know how to stop.”

Simon leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek, and for a second, your heart races with that familiar, dangerous anticipation. “We don’t have to stop,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “We can keep this going; keep fucking up, keep hurting, keep loving. It’s what we do.”

You let out a small, tired laugh, and shake your head. “Yeah, Simon, great plan,” you say, your tone light, almost condescending, though there’s no real bite behind it. “Let’s just keep breaking each other into pieces. That’s gonna end well.”

You don’t even have the energy to fight properly. It’s all too much, and you’re too tired. Tired of the fights, the back-and-forth, the constant cycling through pain and passion like it’s the only way you know how to exist together.

He watches you closely, his gaze unwavering, as if he’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking, waiting for you to snap at him, to tell him off. But you don’t. You can’t. You feel the exhaustion settle in your bones, making it impossible to muster up any anger.

Why is it so difficult?

What the hell is wrong with you that it’s so difficult for him to love you? To not hurt you? You wonder if it’s something about you, something broken deep inside, something that makes you impossible to love. 

You’ve tried, haven’t you? You’ve bent yourself to fit the version of you he seems to want, the version that’s easier, less complicated, less demanding. But no matter how much you bend, no matter how much you give, it’s never enough.

What is it about you that’s so unlovable?

“I’m sorry, you know,” Simon murmurs, taking a long drag from the joint.

You blink, your head feeling light, detached, like you’re floating just above the surface of yourself. The words come slower now, softer, like you have to pull them from some faraway place.

“For what?”

You hear yourself ask the question, but it feels distant, like it’s not really you speaking. The world around you is muffled, like you’re wrapped in cotton, the sounds, the lights, all muted. Simon’s face swims in your vision, and for a moment, you focus on the way his lips curve as he exhales, the smoke curling lazily from his mouth. You watch it drift up, swirling in the air between you, and it’s almost beautiful, the way it moves, weightless and free.

Simon glances at you, his eyes half-lidded, bloodshot, but there’s something in his gaze—something that makes you feel a tug of recognition, though your mind is too foggy to grasp what it is. He takes another drag, slower this time, and when he speaks again, his voice is soft.

“You know what.” He hands you back the joint and you take it, and you inhale deeply, the burn in your lungs calming your nerves.

“Then why’d you do it?” 

He hadn’t even tried to hide it this time. You heard the story from someone else first, a smug, offhand comment meant as a joke. Simon, with his arm slung over your shoulder, laughing along like it was nothing, like you weren’t standing right there, feeling the ground crumble beneath your feet.

“I was drunk as fuck ‘cause they kept bringing shots after shots after shots, and she took advantage of that like you wouldn’t believe. That’s what those girls do, and shit, I wasn’t the only one they got like that—Ben, Jake, Alex, Teddy too, I think.”

All of them in relationships, one to be married in two weeks, one with a baby on the way. 

Disgusting.

“It’s so easy for you, isn’t it?” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Simon furrows his brow, turning to you, confusion flashing across his face. “What do you mean?”

You shake your head, unable to look at him directly, your gaze fixed on the joint between your fingers. “Going through life, knowing nothing is ever your fault,” you murmur. There’s no anger in your tone, just a tired sort of resignation, like you’re saying something you’ve known all along.

“What are you talking about?” he scoffs. “Nothing’s ever been easy for me. I fucked up royally, yeah, I get that, but it wasn’t my fucking fault. I didn’t even wanna go to the damn club, but Alex wouldn’t stop begging, so I gave in.”

“You see?” you say, your voice quiet, but firm. “You’re fine as long as Alex was the one who made you cheat. It’s all good ‘cause the stripper took advantage of you, right?” You can hear the bitterness in your own voice.

“You don’t need to change or grow, ‘cause, what’s the point, your parents fucked you up anyway. It’s your boss’s fault your coworkers complain about you, it’s the cops’ fault that you got a DUI, and it’s my fault that you resent me.”

You watch Simon’s face as the words sink in, the flicker of defensiveness in his eyes, the way his jaw tightens.

“And I know that deep down you really do believe all that.” You pause, staring at him through the thick fog clouding your mind, your body sinking deeper into the concrete. “So, I guess my question is…why even bother with me anymore?”

“Baby…”

“No, I’m serious,” you say, cutting him off, but there’s no fire in your voice, just a dull weariness that matches the slow pulse of your heartbeat. “Why? Why keep me around when you could be happy, doing what you wanna do, without me holding you back?”

Simon sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumping. “I wouldn’t be happy without you.”

“But I’m not enough for you,” you whisper, tears inadvertently filling your eyes. “I’ve never been enough. Despite trying everything in my power. I’m not enough for you.”

Simon doesn’t answer right away. He takes the joint from your hand, inhaling deeply, staring at some distant point in the darkened parking lot. The quiet stretches, thick and uncomfortable, and for a moment, you think he’s not going to answer at all. But then he finally sighs, rubbing a hand over his face like he’s trying to buy himself more time.

“What do you want me to say?” he mutters. “You know I’m not always good with words or expressing feelings and all that shit…but you’re wrong. You’re everything to me.”

He hands you the joint and you shake your head, a mirthless laugh bubbling to the surface. “Yeah, that’s why you fucked a stripper and had unprotected sex with me right after. Do you hear yourself?”

He exhales exasperatedly as he leans back, palms pressed against the cool concrete. “It’s not– it didn’t mean anything,” he says, his voice defensive. “It’s not like I’m looking for someone better than you.”

“Then why?” you press, your voice shaking now. “If I’m so important to you, why do you keep lying and sneaking around? What’s the point?”

He sighs again, louder this time, like he’s tired of this conversation before it’s even really begun. “I don’t know, okay? I get restless sometimes. I’m not…thinking when I do it.” His thumb brushes over the back of your hand, a small, almost absent-minded gesture that makes your heart clench. “It’s not like I’m trying to hurt you. I’m really not, baby. And It doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

His hand tightens around yours, grounding you in the moment, and for a second, you almost feel comforted.

Almost.

But then, like a flash, the memory hits you—sharp, vivid, paralyzing.

The pain shoots through your wrist all over again, that awful, sickening crunch echoing in your ears. You’re back in the ER, the blinding white lights overhead making your eyes burn, your head pounding as you sit there, staring at the sterile walls. You’d made up some story, but the nurse looked right through you, her eyes filled with pity.

You remember how you sat there, waiting, your body aching but your mind empty, not even able to cry a single tear. Just numb. Completely detached from yourself, like you were watching it all from the outside.

You remember the young doctor, the one who stitched you up. His voice was light, conversational, doing his best to distract you from the deep gash in your wrist. He told you about how his daughter had just started kindergarten that day. How proud and terrified he and his wife were, how they’d taken a hundred pictures of her in her little backpack. How she was such a happy, bright girl, full of curiosity and excitement.

You could barely listen, but you remember the way his voice softened when he said, “I just hope she always knows how loved she is.”

That was the part that stuck with you.

The way his voice cracked just slightly when he said it, like he was imagining all the ways the world could break her. How someone could end up hurting her like someone hurt you. And as you sat there, the needle pulling your skin back together, all you could think about was how far away that feeling was—how you had no idea what it felt like to be that loved, that safe.

You swallow hard, looking down at your intertwined hands. “You’ve said that before, you know. When you drove me home from the hospital.” Your voice is soft, almost too quiet, but the accusation is there.

Simon stiffens. His grip loosens slightly, and you can see the flicker of guilt in his eyes, but it’s the kind of guilt that runs shallow, just skimming the surface. His jaw clenches, and he pulls his hand away.

“I thought you were over that,” he mutters. 

You stare at him for a moment, then let out a soft, bitter laugh. “Yeah, sure,” you say with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You hold out your hand to him, the small scar visible on your wrist, faded but undeniable. “Totally over it. Look, it’s almost like it never happened.”

Simon’s face falters as he hesitates, then takes your hand gently, his thumb brushing over the scar as though trying to erase it with that simple touch.

“I wasn’t right that night,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on your hand before you pull away. “You know I’m not…I wasn’t right.”

You chuckle and take the joint from him. “Yeah, I know.”

He’s silent beside you, his fingers twitching like he wants to reach for you again but doesn’t know how. You can feel his eyes on you, heavy with unspoken words, but you don’t look at him. Instead, you take a slow drag from the joint, letting the smoke fill your lungs.

“I’m not doing that anymore,” Simon says quietly.

You don’t respond. You don’t even look at him. You smoke in silence, absentmindedly rubbing over a faded bruise on your leg.

“The past few months were nice, weren’t they?” Simon’s voice cuts through the silence, tentative, like he’s testing the waters. “I mean, we were fine, right? You were happy?”

You nod, exhaling slowly as the smoke leaves your lips. “I was happy, yeah.”

“Then let’s go back to that. I don’t wanna fall asleep without you in my arms again.” He moves closer, his hand reaching for your chin, gripping it gently, so you’ll look at him. His eyes are wide, pleading, the same look he always gives you when he’s trying to pull you back in. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

Which time?

“Hey, I mean it.” He turns your head back, his grip tighter now. “I’m trying to be better for you, I really am. Just…tell me what you want me to do to make it right and I’ll do it. Anything.” 

“You know, I never wanted you to become a better person for me, Simon,” you say softly, removing his hand from your chin, and letting it fall to his side. “I wanted you to look in the mirror, and realize that you’re a fucking asshole, and change for yourself. I wanted you to realize you’re turning into the very man you always told me you’d rather die than become.”

He stares at you for a moment, then shakes his head as the mask he so carefully wears is slipping. “You love doing this, don’t you?” he mutters. “Pushing, prodding, trying to make me feel like shit.”

You curl your arms around your legs, pulling them close to your chest, your voice calm. “If the shoe fits…”

“Oh, really?” he scoffs, his voice dripping with venom. “You think you’re so much fucking better than me, don’t you? Well, let me tell you this, princess. You’re not as fucking perfect as you think you are, and if you think other people can’t see that, you’re hallucinating.”

“I don’t think I’m perfect, Simon. I wouldn’t be here if I did.” Your voice is softer than you intend, like the weed is suppressing your strength to yell. “I wouldn’t be here if I did.”

“Then why the fuck are you here if you hate me so much?”

“‘Cause I’m an idiot.” You bring the joint to your lips and inhale deeply. “I’m an idiot who can’t let go. ‘Cause I still think you could be better if you just tried. If you stopped listening to your friends, if you stopped drinking, if you stopped blaming me for every shitty thing that’s happened to you in the last five years.”

He’s shaking his head before you even finish. “I don’t do that.”

“Yes, you do.”

“And your solution is to just up and leave without telling me where you are? Very mature.”

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t talk to you, Simon. Every time I try, it’s like I’m talking to a wall.”

“You could talk to me if you actually wanted to,” he snaps back. “But it fits your narrative better when you can storm out, make your big scene, and go enjoy your little power trip. That’s what you do, right? It’s easier than actually being a grown-up and talking things out with me.”

“You’re delusional,” you mutter, brow furrowed.

“I’m delusional?” Simon’s laugh is hollow, his eyes flashing. “Yeah, right. I think you’re the one who’s lost it.”

You feel the words leaving his mouth before he even says them, the familiar sting of what’s next, and it’s like watching a car crash in slow motion. “Like you’re any better than me. Look who the fuck’s talking. Her mother’s daughter.”

There it is. The blow he always lands when he’s desperate to hit you where it hurts.

It’s his ace, the easiest way to throw you off-balance, to bring you down to the level where you feel vulnerable and he can control the conversation again.

You feel an old pain rising to the surface, but instead of letting it show, you smile. It’s not a real smile, but a small, knowing curve of your lips, the kind that hides everything you refuse to let him see. You’re not taking the bait this time.

“She had to go to the hospital again,” you murmur, your eyes on the joint as you bring it to your lips for one last drag. Then, you stub it out on the curb, watching the ember fade. “Thanks for asking.”

Simon’s face falls, the sharp edge of his anger crumbling away. “Shit, babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–”

“Oh, you know,” you cut him off with a casual shrug. “It is what it is.”

“Why didn’t you–”

“‘Cause you were balls deep in a goddamn stripper, Simon,” you interrupt, your voice cold and flat. “I can’t rely on you.”

His face twists in frustration, but his eyes soften, and if you weren’t as high as you are, you’d see the little lines of guilt written all over his face. He reaches out to touch your shoulder, his hand hovering for a second before he gently rests it there.

“Baby, you know you can rely on me,” he says softly. “We have our problems, sure, but I always have your back.”

You roll your eyes, but he presses on, his voice earnest. “Look me in the eye and tell me it’s not true.”

Your eyes meet his. You know exactly what he’s referring to.

That one thing he holds onto as proof, as his trump card, the one time he truly came through for you when it mattered most. The time you thought you’d lose everything. If it’s not your histrionic mother he uses against you, it’s this.

“You can’t hold that over my head for the rest of my life,” you say, your voice steady but sharp. “You don’t get to help me when I need you most and then throw it in my face every time things get hard. That’s not how this works.”

His hand falls from your shoulder. He knows you’re right, but he doesn’t want to admit it. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I’m agitated. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

He shifts uncomfortably beside you, his fingers twitching in his lap as he glances away. When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter, hesitant. “Is she gonna be alright?”

You nod, but there’s no relief in it. “Mhm.” 

There’s a long pause, heavy and suffocating, like an unseen barrier between you two. The night air is crisp, and your bare legs peeking out beneath your skirt are starting to get cold. Simon breaks the silence first.

“Baby, look at me. Please.” 

You blink slowly, your eyes struggling to focus as everything around you starts to blur. The edges of Simon’s face seem to dissolve into the night, his features soft and indistinct, almost like he’s not really there. But you find him again, his eyes, his nose, his lips, his disheveled hair. He looks…lost. It’s rare to see him this vulnerable, this unsure.

How beautiful.

“Can we go home?”

You don’t hear him, not really. All you hear is the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor echoing in your ears. It’s distant but persistent, a steady pulse that reminds you of things you’d rather forget. Then, a disembodied voice, calmly announcing that, “This could have been prevented. This is your fault.”

The words float through your mind, circling, wrapping tighter and tighter around you.

“Baby?”

You try to focus on Simon’s face again, but it’s hard to think, hard to find the words. Everything feels slow, muffled, like you’re moving underwater.

“I have to go,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, like the words are slipping away from you even as you say them.

He tenses up immediately, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean, ‘go’?”

“It means I’m tired, Simon. It means I can’t do this anymore.”

The silence that follows is deafening, like the world has suddenly come to a standstill, waiting for the inevitable fallout. You can practically feel Simon’s frustration pulsing off him.

But as you tilt your head, your gaze wandering over his face, the familiar lines of anger are there, yes. But beneath that, hidden in the set of his shoulders, in the way his hands rest uncertainly in his lap, you can sense something different. Fear. Real fear that this time, you might actually mean it. That this time, you might actually leave.

He doesn’t say anything as you stand up, your legs trembling beneath you, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of your chest. The world spins around you, dizzying, your vision blurred, and you stumble. Instinctively, Simon reaches out, steadying you with his hand.

But you shove him away immediately, your skin burning where his fingers brushed yours. You can’t let him touch you right now. If he touches you, you know you’ll crumble. You know you’ll fall back into his orbit like you always do.

And you may just be unable to afford that anymore.

But then, like a shadow moving through the haze of your high, Simon is suddenly in front of you—close, too close. His presence is disorienting, his words pouring over you before you can even process the distance he’s just closed.

“You don’t mean it,” he says, low and sure, like a statement of fact, as if he’s already decided this for you. His eyes lock onto yours, and it feels like you’re sinking into them, the pull of him as strong as ever, like gravity. He knows how to make you feel small, like your words hold no weight next to his certainty.

“I love you,” he whispers, and the tenderness in his voice makes you shiver, even though your mind screams for you to stay strong. His words wrap around you, weaving through the cracks in your resolve. His face is so close now, his breath warm against your skin, and you can’t tell if it’s the weed or the way he’s looking at you, but everything feels…slower. Softer. Like you’re slipping into a warm, dangerous comfort.

“You know how much I love you, don’t you? Yeah, I messed up, I know I did. But don’t let this ruin us. We’re too good together for that.” His voice is so gentle, hypnotic…irresistible.

“Simon…”

He steps even closer, the space between you disappearing as his hands find yours. His touch is warm, grounding, and despite the cold night air biting at your skin, his presence feels like shelter. He squeezes your hands softly, and your heart stumbles over itself.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he whispers, pleading. “Don’t walk away from us. We’re not perfect, but we belong together. You’re my family, baby. You’re all I have in this godforsaken world. You’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like I matter…like I deserve love.”

It’s incredible, really, how easily he can break you down, how he can strip away all your defenses with just a few words. He knows exactly which buttons to push, how to weave his need for you into something that feels like love, something that feels like safety—even though you should know better.

He sees it, too. He sees the way your resolve falters, the way your eyes flicker with that familiar softness, and a satisfied smile curls on his lips. He knows he’s got you. He always knows when he’s won.

“C’mere,” he says gently, his hands sliding up your arms, pulling you toward him, and despite every instinct telling you to run, you let him. You let him hold you, let him wrap his arms around you like a protective shield against the world.

Your body sinks into his, your cheek resting against his chest, and you can hear the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your ear. Each beat is a rhythm you’ve known for years, one that’s soothed you through your darkest moments, even as it’s caused some of them. His scent wraps around you, familiar and intoxicating, like the remnants of a home you’re desperate to return to. You let yourself drown in the warmth of him, in his steady presence that has helped you through so much. His hand strokes the back of your head, his touch soft, soothing.

It’s messed up how right it feels.

How comforting it is to be here in his arms, even when your heart is breaking inside.

“I love you,” Simon whispers again, his breath warm against your temple. “I’m so sorry for everything. I’m so fucking sorry. But you’re all I have, babe. I need you.”

You close your eyes, biting back the sob that threatens to escape. His words seep into your skin, and you want so desperately to believe him. 

You love him. God, do you love him. Even when it hurts. Even when it breaks you. And right now, with his arms around you, you miss him so deeply it feels like a hollow ache in your chest. You don’t want to be without him. He’s the only thing that’s ever felt like family to you. The only person who knows all your scars, all your flaws, and still pulls you close.

“I need you too,” you whisper, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. It’s the truth, as ugly as it is.

Simon holds you tighter, his arms enveloping you, and for now, you let yourself sink into the comfort of it. Into the warmth of his embrace, into the way his hand rubs slow circles on your back like he’s trying to erase all the hurt, all the broken pieces between you.

You let him tell you he loves you, let him soothe you with his words, let him promise you the world, even though deep down, you know you’ll both end up in the same place again.

And before you know it, you’re slipping into the passenger seat, the door closing behind you with a soft, final click.

“You okay, darlin’?”

Joel’s voice pulls you back, the deep rumble of his question cutting through the fog of memories clouding your mind.

You blink, taking in the familiar interior of his car, the hum of the road beneath the tires, the soft glow of the dashboard lights illuminating his profile. The past feels too close, too heavy, pressing on your chest like you’re still stuck in it. But Joel is here, real and solid next to you, grounding you in the present.

“Yeah,” you answer quietly, your voice a little rougher than you mean for it to be. “Just tired.”

You see him glance over at you, concern evident in his eyes, but he doesn’t push. Not this time. He’s trying his hardest not to pry, not when he knows you need space. He just nods and keeps his eyes on the road, his hand resting on the gearshift, close but not touching.

“We’re almost there,” he says after a beat, his voice gentle, steady—so different from the frantic beat of your heart.

You nod, staring out the window at the darkened streets passing by. It’s quiet this late at night, and the drive back to your place feels longer than it should. The weight of the past few days lingers like a shadow, gnawing at the edges of your mind, making it hard to breathe. 

You can still see Laura’s hand on her bump, the way her sad eyes looked at you like you were in the wrong. You can feel Simon’s arms around you, the way he pulled you in even when you should’ve pushed him away. The way you couldn’t help but let him.

But you’re not that person anymore. This is different. Joel’s different.

Your stomach churns, a wave of nausea rising so suddenly it feels like the world tilts. You grip your bandaged hand tighter, shift in your seat, trying to breathe through it, but the sensation intensifies. You can taste the bitterness of the meds in your mouth, the stress squeezing your chest like a vice as cold sweat starts spreading on your skin. The movement of the car only makes it worse, and you know what’s coming.

“Joel…” you manage, your voice strained, barely above a whisper. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Huh?” His head snaps toward you, eyes widening with concern as he sees how uncomfortable you are. “Shit. Hang on.”

Without hesitation, he tightens his grip on the steering wheel and scans the street for a place to pull over. It’s late, but the road is still lined with parked cars, neon signs glowing from nearby buildings. Finally, he spots a small gap along the curb. He turns on his blinker and slows down, smoothly guiding you toward the side of the street.

You fumble desperately with the seatbelt, your fingers trembling and uncoordinated as nausea hits you like a wave. Before you can manage it yourself, Joel leans over, his hands quick but gentle as he clicks the seat belt free. “Here,” he murmurs, and the moment the belt retracts, you’re already reaching for the door handle.

The second the door is open, you lurch out onto the sidewalk, the city air thick with petrichor from the short downpour that made you leave the beach earlier. The nausea hits hard, and you bend over, retching violently onto the pavement. It’s mostly bile, bitter and burning in your throat, and each wave of sickness feels like it’s tearing through your body. You grip the door for support, your hands shaking, your body trembling from the sheer force of it.

You hate this. The vulnerability, the pain, the utter helplessness of it all.

Joel moves quietly, reaching into the glove compartment for tissues. He doesn’t crowd you, just watches carefully, his expression tight with worry. He’s there, but giving you the space you need. After grabbing the tissues, he steps out of the car, making his way around to the back. You can hear him rummaging in the trunk, though your focus remains on trying not to accidentally cough up your lungs. 

“Goddamnit,” you choke out, your voice strained as another wave of nausea forces the last of the bile from your body. It burns, raw and painful, your whole frame trembling as you lean over. Joel is next to you, hovering, trying to be there, but keeping his distance. 

“I hate this,” you whine dramatically, your head pounding as you try catching your breath. 

Once you feel like the worst is over and your stomach is settling, you straighten up and look at Joel through watery eyes. He’s smiling at you sympathetically, taking a step closer to wipe your mouth and chin with a couple of tissues.

You’re about to tell him not to touch you, but the concentrated look on his face and the deft but gentle motion of his fingers put you in a trance. He’s cleaned your mouth and wiped away your tears before you could even say anything.  

“Do you remember how hot I looked in that short red dress?” you murmur, furrowing your brow at the unexpected pain coming from your sore throat. 

“Yeah, how could I not?” Joel chuckles as he opens and hands you the water bottle he had waiting for you in his back pocket.

“Good,” you nod before swishing a mouthful of water, and spitting it out onto the concrete away from you. You take another sip, letting it cool your throat before you cap the bottle and look into Joel’s eyes. “I want you to think of that really hard and forget everything you just saw, okay?”

He just smiles at you, touching your shoulder with his warm hand. “Sweetheart, you’re vastly underestimating my attraction to you. You think a little puke’s gonna deter me? If you weren’t in pain, I’d kiss you no problem.” The way his eyebrow automatically twitches makes you roll your eyes. But it also warms your heart. 

“You’re disgusting,” you say, trying your hardest not to smile. 

“Says the girl who wiped snot off my face and kissed me while I was sweaty and gross after rolling around in bed with a fever. Guess we’re both disgusting, then.” 

“Hm,” is all you manage to get out, a tiny smirk on your face, but it falters just as quickly as you suddenly feel like you’re going to throw up again. 

“No, no, no, please, no,” you murmur, terrified, clutching the open car door for dear life. Your body tenses up, desperate to avoid another wave of sickness. You can’t do this again.

“I’m right here,” Joel whispers softly, his hand coming to rest on your back. He begins rubbing slow, soothing circles, his touch gentle and steady. There's a hint of helplessness in his voice, as if he wishes he could do more, but knows this is all he can offer right now. “It’s okay, just breathe.”

You focus on his hand, the warmth of it cutting through the cold sweat covering your skin. The nausea grips you, but Joel’s steady touch draws you back, grounding you. Your breath steadies, and when the sickness passes, you focus on the warmth of his hand, his touch comforting in a way you didn’t expect.

You’re usually not one for people being around, let alone touching you, when you’re vulnerable like this. The only time you’d allow anyone to get this close is during sex. But that’s different. Especially with Joel.

No one else gets to do the things he does with you. Not that you’ve ever admitted that to him.

He’s seen you at your most unguarded—tied up with your ankles behind your ears, covered in sweat, drooling, crying, bruised from his hands, begging for release, and confessing all the depraved things you’d let him do to you if he’d just finally let you come. He’s seen you laid bare, stripped down to nothing but raw desire and submission. And in those moments, there’s nothing but trust and desire between you two.

It’s freeing. Being able to let go of your body and mind so completely.

But this?

The idea of Joel witnessing you vomiting bile on the side of a dingy city street while your hand is bandaged, your face contorted, and your body shaking like you’ve been dragged through hell…

Not good. Especially after what happened.

You don’t know how to navigate this new territory with him, and the last thing you want is for him to see you weak like this. Not when you’re already feeling fragile.

You’re embarrassed, your cheeks burning from the humiliation of it all. You know this moment will haunt you on sleepless nights when your mind drags up every cringe-worthy memory. But right now, there’s an unexpected comfort in knowing he’s here.

“I think it’s over,” you say quietly, almost afraid to voice it, half-expecting your body to betray you again just because you dared to say it out loud. But it doesn’t. The nausea ebbs away, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. It’s over.

“Okay,” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. “Just take your time. Don’t rush it.”

You inhale deeply, drawing in the cool night air. The city smells faintly of petrichor and there’s a soft hum from the distant traffic, cars rolling by on the nearby streets. It all feels surreal, like the world is far away from the small bubble you and Joel are in.

The steady circles he traces on your back continue, grounding you further. You let your eyes close for a moment, soaking in the calm of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, not looking at him.

He shakes his head, his brow furrowed in worry. “You got nothing to be sorry for. Do you think you’re okay to go on now?”

You nod and swallow hard, the sting in your throat making you wince. You manage a weak, half-hearted smile, though the world still feels off-kilter. “Yeah, I think so. But if I start dry-heaving again, just do us both a favor and push me out of the moving car, okay?”

He smirks, his lips curling in that familiar, teasing way. “As if I could ever deny you something,” he says softly, his humor not quite hiding the concern in his eyes. “Let’s get you home, darlin’.”

He pauses, like he wants to say more, his mouth opening slightly as if searching for the right words, but he holds back. Instead, he just watches you carefully as you make your way back into the passenger seat, waiting until you’re settled before gently closing the door behind you.

You lean your head back against the seat, eyes half-lidded, the weight of everything pressing down on you like a heavy blanket as you continue your way home.

The words are there, inside you, loud, persistent, trying to break free; but you can’t. Where would you even start? What’s the point in revealing more of yourself? What good could come from it?

Nothing. That’s what.

Nothing.

You watch the city lights blur outside the window, your thoughts darker than the night. Your life feels like it’s crumbling, piece by piece, slipping through your fingers no matter how hard you try to hold on. And once again, you know—deep down—it’s your own doing. It always is. No matter how many times you try to make things right, it always ends up the same way.

When Joel finally parks in front of your apartment building, the car idles quietly, and he takes a moment to gather his thoughts. You can feel him looking at you, trying to find the right words. You don’t move, your mind still preoccupied with your own self-doubt.

“We’re here,” Joel says, a soft smile on his lips. He’s trying, you can tell, but you’re too far gone, too lost in your own spiral. When you don’t respond, his smile falters, but he presses on, determined to lift the weight between you.

“I was thinking…” he begins, his voice light. “I could cook for you tomorrow if you’re up for it? I remember I owe you a nice dinner, and no, it’s not just frozen pizza this time. It’s a frozen pizza with a side salad.”

He grins, hoping to coax a smile out of you, some kind of response. But you don’t laugh. You don’t even crack a smile.

Joel clears his throat and shifts slightly in his seat, his fingers drumming anxiously on the steering wheel. He’s trying to pull you out of whatever hole you’ve fallen into, but you can’t meet him halfway. You don’t have the strength.

He looks at you, his heart sinking as he takes in your sad, distant eyes. It’s like you’re not really here, like you’ve drifted somewhere far away, unreachable. How he wishes he could climb inside your mind and pull out whatever it is that’s weighing so heavily on you, take the burden for himself.

“Darlin’?” he repeats softly.

You blink, refocusing, but the smile you give him doesn’t reach your eyes. “Hm?”

“Can I cook for you tomorrow? You could come over to mine after work, or I can come here. Whatever you prefer.” There’s a hopeful smile on his face, a softness in his gaze, and the way he looks at you, almost like a puppy waiting for a treat, makes your stomach twist painfully.

You remember the dinner with Tommy and Maria, cursing yourself silently for agreeing to go. It’s not that you don’t love them—you do—but the thought of sitting through that dinner, of having that conversation with Tommy, feels like a nightmare.

“I can’t tomorrow.”

Joel’s smile falters the slightest bit, but he remains undeterred. “How about Saturday? I’ll plan something nice for us. Something I know you’ll love.”

Oh no.

You want to say it so badly it physically hurts.

You’ve been better, haven’t you? Over the past year or so. You’ve tried—really tried—to keep your cool, to express your feelings in a healthy way, or at least something close to it. You’ve worked hard to stop falling into that old mentality where uncomfortable emotions make you feel cornered and you end up lashing out. You’ve made progress. 

You’re not the same person you used to be. He’s not Simon. You don’t act like this anymore. You’ve outgrown this. Don’t do it. Don’t say–

“You’re free on a Saturday?” 

Joel blinks, the confusion clear on his face. “Yeah, like always when I’m not working,” he says, unsure where this is coming from.

“Oh,” you murmur. “Would’ve thought you already had plans with your, uh…with Jan.”

How subtle.

“I’m not planning on seeing her again,” Joel says simply.

You glance at him. “You should probably tell her that. Didn’t really seem like she knew when she was fondling you under the table.”

Joel exhales deeply and shifts slightly, turning his body toward you, trying to make sure you hear him. “I did tell her, and she does know,” he says firmly. His gaze softens as he looks at you, his voice gentler now. “Sweetheart…I’m not gonna pursue anything with her. And I wouldn’t have agreed to the date if I’d known it would hurt you.”

You shake your head, not wanting to let the conversation go where it’s headed, your thumb rubbing over your wrist brace. “Can we please not talk about this right now?” you murmur, your voice tight, barely holding it together. “I’m sorry for bringing it up. Thank you for driving me home, I’ll see you– “

“I didn’t sleep with her,” Joel interrupts, his voice firm. “We had a good time, but that’s it.”

You blink, furrowing your brow and tilting your head slightly as his words begin to sink in. He watches you, waiting for your response, but when it doesn’t come, he shifts again, trying to close the distance.

“Hey,” Joel says softly, reaching for your left hand, his fingers gently wrapping around yours. He rubs your skin with his thumb, more to soothe himself than you. “I didn’t sleep with her.”

He searches your face, waiting for a reaction, any reaction. But you just sit there, unmoved, your expression frozen in place. There’s no relief, no anger, no hint of anything. Just…nothing.

The silence stretches, and Joel’s heart sinks. He doesn’t know exactly what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Maybe he thought you’d smile, maybe he even hoped you’d fall into his arms, that this would be the moment things would start to feel okay again. But you’re distant, your face unreadable.

His eyes scan yours, searching desperately for something to hold on to, and what he finds hits him like a punch to the gut.

“You don’t believe me.”

You meet his eyes for just a second longer, a sad smile tugging at the corners of your lips before you nervously look away and whisper, “Look, I’m, uh– I’m extremely tired right now and this close to crying, so I’m gonna go upstairs and call it a night, okay?”

But Joel doesn’t let go of your hand. His grip tightens, just a little, his voice strained. “You really don’t believe me. You think I’m lying to you.”

“I don’t– Can we please do this another time?”

“I’d love to, but I feel like it’s important that we–” 

“Joel.”

“–get this sorted out, so you don’t–”

“Joel, please.”

“–keep on thinking I’m a liar. I didn’t know you thought that ab–”

“Jesus Christ,” you snap, your voice trembling with frustration, “don’t you hear what I’m saying?” Without waiting for a response, you push open the car door and step out, the cool air hitting your skin. “I can’t fucking do this right now.”

The door slams shut behind you with a hard thud, cutting through the quiet of the parking lot.

Joel watches you for a moment, taken aback, then quickly follows, stepping out of the car. His eyes are full of concern, his brow furrowed as he watches you pace, but his voice is calm, steady, trying to reach you.

“Darlin’, I do hear you,” he says, taking a cautious step closer. “And I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about it right now, I just…”

You spin around, exasperated. “You just what?”

“I just wanna know that you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, Joel,” you say, rubbing your temples. “Why in the world wouldn’t I be?”

He opens his mouth, trying to form a response, but before he can say anything, you cut him off, the words spilling out like a dam breaking.

“But it doesn’t even matter, okay? It doesn’t matter if I’m fine or not. I don’t have time to think about it.” Your voice cracks slightly, your throat constricting as you try to keep control. “Because now I gotta get to bed, so I can go to the office early tomorrow, ‘cause afterwards I’ll be sitting at a table with Tommy, who probably fucking hates me now. Do you have any idea how much that fucking sucks?”

Your voice lowers, the vulnerability creeping in despite your efforts to hold it back. “What if he…doesn’t want me in his life anymore?”

Joel shakes his head, vehemently. “Darlin’, that’s nonsense. He’s not mad at you. If anything, he’s mad at me. And I’m sorry for not asking you first, but you gotta understand that I was worried about you and thought this was the best solution.”

“Oh sure, yeah,” you scoff, bitterness lacing your words. “You know so much fucking better than I do. That’s it, right? Yeah, of course. Don’t you get how fucking weird this all is? It’s exactly what I was afraid of. You all talking about me behind my back, pitying me, judging me, and figuring out that you’re better off without me. That I’m not who you thought I was. That I’m not able to give you what you want.”

Joel hears the panic in your voice like he did yesterday, the way it’s rising, how your words are becoming more frantic. He gets the sense you’re not hearing him anymore, not really. You’re caught up in your own head, lost in the whirlwind of your fears. His mind flashes back to Tommy’s words. He can see it now, the way your frustration, your hurt is morphing into something darker, more overwhelming.

God, how he wishes he could just pull you into his arms right now. Hold you, protect you from the weight of everything that’s crushing you. But he knows, deep down, that he’s part of that weight. 

No matter how good his intentions might have been. 

“That’s not what happened at all,” Joel says, his voice calm, measured, even though his heart is racing. “We didn’t talk about you like that. I just needed Tommy to help me figure out where you might be, and I’m so glad he did. It was nice…sitting with you, holding your hand…”

You shake your head. “Good night, Joel.”

“Look, I– I know you’re going through something right now that makes you think I’m insincere,” he blurts out, “but I need you to know that I’m really just trying to help you.”

Your body stiffens, his words hitting a nerve. “I don’t need you to help me,” you snap. “I don’t wanna be your little damsel in distress, that’s not who I am.”

Joel flinches at the bite in your words, but he doesn’t back down. “I know that. And that’s not how I see you. I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself.” He pauses, his eyes searching yours, desperate for you to understand.

“But allowing help from the people who love us isn’t about being weak or incapable. You may not see it right now, but I’m on your side. And if anyone’s weak it’s me, ‘cause I can’t stand seeing you in pain like this.”

You sigh deeply and murmur, “I’m gonna go now,” your voice flat as you turn toward your apartment.

Joel steps forward cautiously, not wanting to push too hard, but he can’t just let you walk away without saying more. “I get it, it’s all too much. But please, just…don’t shut me out, okay? Call me if you need anything. Doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of the night. I’ll be here.”

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his promise, but you’re too drained to respond. All you can do is nod.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he says softly, his voice full of regret. “I wish I could take some of this off you, make it easier somehow. But I’m not leaving, alright? Not now, not ever. ”

You nod again, your throat too tight to speak, and turn away, walking toward your apartment. Joel watches you go with his hands falling uselessly to his sides, his heart heavy, knowing there’s so much left unsaid, but hoping—praying—you’ll let him know when you’re ready.

Wow, well done.

Sitting on your sofa, you stare blankly at the black TV as the silence of your apartment settles around you, your mind already starting its cruel commentary.

That’s for sure going to make him think you’re a mentally stable person. No, seriously, why wouldn’t he want to be with you?

The thought twists inside you like a knife, but you can’t help it. The voice in your head is relentless, mocking your every move, dissecting your behavior from earlier.

You think you’re slick, don’t you? Pushing him away so you don’t have to face your feelings. Aren’t we way past that?

You sigh deeply as if that would quiet the storm inside you, but it doesn’t. Your self-reproach lingers, heavy and biting.

Still, you drag yourself to the kitchen, forcing yourself to eat a few bites of the leftover pasta sitting in your fridge. It’s tasteless, going down like sandpaper, but you know you need something in your stomach before you can take the painkillers. Your body aches, every muscle tensing under the weight of the unresolved strain still coiled within you.

You wash the food and the pills down with iced tea, grateful for the cold sweetness, because water turns your stomach right now. The pasta, the tea, they’re just fuel—a necessary evil before you can move on and hopefully find some peace in your sleep.

After you’ve eaten, you strip off your clothes and step into the shower, letting the hot water rush over you. You stand there for a while, eyes closed, trying to wash away everything. Joel’s concerned face, the hurt, the frustration, the embarrassment of how you acted. You let the water pound against your skin, hoping it’ll somehow cleanse more than just the sweat and grime from the day.

When you finally step out, you feel a little more like yourself, a little more human. Still shaky, but better. 

By the time you crawl into bed, exhaustion drags you down like an anchor. You pull the blankets tight around you, hoping to find some comfort even though the dread of the day ahead lingers. Your phone is already in your hand, and you pull up Netflix, choosing something mindless to drown out the sound of your own thoughts. The chatter of the show hums in the background, but your mind barely registers it.

Your eyes grow heavier with each passing minute, and the warmth of your bed starts to pull you toward sleep. Everything starts to blur as the fatigue takes over.

But then, just as you’re about to drift off, your propped up phone vibrates loudly against the bedside lamp. The screen lights up, a small notification appearing at the top.

Joel Miller.

Your heart skips a beat, a strange mix of relief and anxiety rising in your chest. You blink away the sleep and swipe the notification open.

It’s a voice message, and the length—four minutes—makes your heart sink. You’re not sure you can handle whatever it is he has to say right now. It feels too heavy, too soon.

Your finger hovers over the play button, your mind running wild with possibilities.

What if something happened to him? What if he’s telling you he doesn’t want to see you anymore? What if you scared him off for good? Why else would the message be so long?

Before you can spiral further, another notification pops up.

Joel: Sleep well, baby 😘 

You blink, staring at his message, and you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. He’s being sweet. Maybe this isn’t what you’re bracing for.

You take a deep breath, your heart still beating a little too fast, and press play.

At first, there’s a small pause, like he’s gathering his thoughts. Then you hear his voice coming through the speaker, soft and gentle, the familiar rasp of it cutting through the quiet of your bedroom.

“Hi darlin’. It’s me, Joel…Miller…obviously.” 

Your smile widens. He’s such a dork.

“I know it’s late…and you’re probably already in bed. But I, uh…I wanted to say something. I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I didn’t want you to go to sleep without hearing this.”

He sounds like he always does, calm, collected, but he’s being careful with his words. You shift under the covers, feeling more awake now, your body attuned to every note in his voice.

“I know you’ve been going through a lot on your own, and I don’t wanna make it worse by pushing or prying where I shouldn’t. But I just want you to know…I’m here. I’m here for you, no matter what. You don’t have to handle it alone, okay?”

There’s a small pause, and you hear him exhale, like he’s letting go of something he’s been holding in for too long.

“I don’t know if I always say the right things, and God knows I’ve messed up plenty…but you mean a lot to me. More than I can put into words right now. And I, uh, don’t expect you to have all the answers. Hell, I don’t even know if I do. But I wanna be there with you, figure it out together…if you’ll let me.”

Another deep breath.

“You’re never not on my mind, sweetheart, and I just…wish you could see yourself the way I see you. I felt it the first time I saw you, you know? You stood there, the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. And then you looked into my eyes. You looked into my eyes and that was it for me.”

Joel’s voice softens even more, almost like he’s afraid you’ll drift off before he’s finished. “I was thinking about Saturday, too. I got something in mind that I think’ll be good for both of us. Nothing big, just…I think you’ll like it.”

There’s a brief silence on the line as if he’s gathering himself, and then you hear it—the faint strum of a guitar. Your breath catches in your throat.

He’s playing for you.

His voice, low and gentle, hums the opening notes of a country tune you’ve never heard before. The sound drifts over you, warm and comforting, like being wrapped in a blanket of soft clouds and something that feels like home.

You close your eyes, letting the music take you, and as Joel begins to sing, his voice carries a depth of emotion that reaches deep inside you. The lyrics flow, full of a quiet tenderness, and you sink into the sound, letting it wash away your troubles:

“I’m just a lonesome traveler, Drifting down this road, But darlin’, when I’m near you, I know I’m not alone.”

You just listen, your heart swelling with the softness of it, with the fact that Joel is doing this for you. Never in a million years did you see this coming. 

The song continues, the melody sweet and simple, his voice lulling you further into a sense of calm. It feels like everything else fades away—the weight of your past, the uncertainty of the future—and all that’s left is this moment, this gentle connection between you and him.

As he reaches the end of the song, his voice drops to an almost-whisper:

“But darlin’, when I hold you, I know I’ve found my home.”

The final note lingers in the air of your bedroom, and for a moment, you just lie there, your heart full, your body completely relaxed. You can barely keep your eyes open now, the edges of sleep tugging at you.

Still, you gather all of your remaining energy to text him back. You need to.

You: I’ll bring snacks on Saturday

You: Ever thought about switching careers btw? Cowboy boots, a hat and you’d make a fortune. Groupies, fame, rich old ladies letting you run wild with their credit cards…

You’ve barely pressed send when Joel responds. 

Joel: Groupies, huh?

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. Another buzz.

Joel: Nah, sweetheart. My music comes from the heart. It’s only for the people I love. Not for anyone else.

Thank you for reading! previous | Series Masterlist | AO3 | next

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[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU pt 67

part 1 | part 66 | ao3

cw: recreational drug use

Waiting around to die or get arrested or whatever fucking sucks. Partly because there’s no running water (Steve’s never wanted to take a stress shower so badly in his life) and partly because Eddie won’t let him stay sober. Has it in his head that altering Steve’s mental state will keep Vecna away, like hanging a mosquito net over the opening of a tent.

It’s not not working, he guesses.

He hasn’t fallen in to any more hallucinated open graves, at least.

He comes down the stairs a little before noon, towel-drying his hair after a bottled water sink bath, and finds Eddie in the kitchen: Reeboks on, hair a cotton candy mess, head-to-toe teddy bear tie-dye under his leather jacket — a matching shirt and sweats that he fished out of Rick’s dresser. He’s stirring Spaghettios in a small pot at the stove, and when he sees Steve come in he turns to offer some, the wooden spoon held out with a sort of desperate perkiness. “Morning! I found food that isn’t expired. You want some?”

Steve shakes his head.

Eddie shovels the whole spoonful into his mouth; wipes sauce off his chin, speaks before he’s finished chewing. “I also found blotters in the freezer and shrooms in the bedroom closet, so uh. Pick your poison.”

Steve picks the shrooms. They wait a few hours to take them because Eddie swears the sunset while you’re tripping is unparalleled, man, although Steve kind of suspects that he’s just giving him time to work up the nerve to eat them. He still gets nervous about chemicals — probably always will, after the shit the Russians did.

In the meantime, Eddie rummages through Rick’s cassette collection, and Steve talks to Robin on the walkie; gets all the new details in staticky half-sentences — something about mind flayers and mental hospitals, what else is new? He tells her to be safe; tells her that he loves her; keeps his eyes trained on the clock.

—

Shrooms smell and taste like ass. Steve can’t stomach them; spits into the grass while Eddie laughs sympathetically and hands him a little square of paper to put on his tongue instead, and they spread out side by side on a few old beach towels by the water and wait for it to kick in.

Nothing, at first, not that Steve expected different. Twenty minutes; forty-five.

“Still nothing?”

“Nothing.”

And then.

Eddie holds up a glossy aquamarine pebble, squinting at its glow in the late afternoon sun. “I should give this rock to Skye. Bet she’d love it.”

“That’s a shard of glass.”

Eddie blinks at it. “Oh, shit.”

Steve snorts, and when he looks at Eddie sideways there’s a glimmer of that same cerulean shade outlining his whole body, a low-frequency feather of energy rolling off of him in waves. Eddie moves his arm and the color chases it, a long-exposure photo of high beams on rain-slick roads.

“Oh,” Steve says, mouth slack. His voices echo in his head; all six of them. “I think I’m…”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, eyes alight, pupils blown.

“Yeah.”

All at once something slots into place, attunes itself inside of Steve, and it’s like… he can see Eddie’s mind; touch it, cradle it, reach out to it with its own. It feels crazy. Psychedelics are fucking crazy. He reaches out a hand, slicing through ribbons of shimmering light, tasting the colors as they fade, and Eddie’s emotions spread out in high-definition before him — like the image has always been there but now it’s crystal clear; someone’s shifted his focal point, filled a kiddie pool with Epsom salt and left him there to float.

“I see you,” he says nonsensically.

Eddie frowns. “I’m sorry.”

“…That I can see you?”

“I usually am.”

That’s not right. Eddie’s thoughts shouldn’t sour on his account, shouldn’t sag in the middle like a moldy tangerine. “I can close my eyes?”

“Fuck,” Eddie laughs, thin and strained. “Don’t say shit like that when I’m not allowed to kiss you.”

“You’re not?”

He hesitates. “Am I?” Antsy fingers drum the grass, overgrown with vibrant clover and dandelion stalks. “Just feel like we should talk first, if uh, if it’s safe.”

Steve probes his own mind, tests it for outside threats, but there’s nothing. The acid forms a fractal fortress. Penrose steps, paradoxical and strange. “It’s safe.”

He moves to lie on his side, invites Eddie to do the same. “Talk into the kiss,” he suggests when Eddie joins him — face to face, chest to chest, Steve can see the thrum of Eddie’s heartbeat in the hollow of his throat; wants to press his thumb to it, so he does, the sense memory of ripe cherries bursting on his tongue.

Eddie’s lips against his own; hovering. Static electricity like the scent of summer rain. “I think my pride makes me a coward.”

Steve rubs his dry lips across Eddie’s, chapped skin and shared heat.

“It’s like… I kept trying to tell myself that I was being… I don’t know, valiant, or some shit? Like, ‘oh, he’s so much better without me. I’m the town pariah; I’m keeping him safe by running away.’” He thumps his fist against his heart as if beating a shield to shining armor, and Steve can’t see his eyebrows with their foreheads pressed together, but he can feel Eddie scrunching them into a picture-perfect hero frown. Almost has to laugh — so fucking theatrical even when he’s serious.

“But if I’m honest,” Eddie murmurs, “it wasn’t like that at all. Nothing fucking brave about vanishing on you. Like, what?” His voice shifts again, lilting but critical, a comedian doing crowd work. “I get a liiiittle fucked up by townies two too many times, and I sabotage my whole life over it? Ruin the best thing I’ve ever had over it? As if this goddamn horseshit hasn’t been happening to me since— forever! Shit.” He blows his bangs out of his face; calms himself. Goes a little cross-eyed trying to look Steve in the eye. “I got scared, Steve. There it is. That’s the ugly truth of it.”

He swallows harshly in the dense silence that follows.

Robins chirp; cars pass.

The lake laps at the shore and casts prisms like fishing line, spiderwebs of rainbow light flashing behind Steve’s eyelids. He brings his hands up to Eddie’s face.

“Christ.” Eddie shudders; lets himself become dead weight, rubbing his cheek into the touch, warm stubble scratching over the pads of Steve’s fingers. “Am I making any sense? I feel like I’m not making any sense.”

Yes. No. “You’re making sense. I mean. As much as anything is right now.” The sandy brown freckles on the bridge of Eddie’s nose are swirling like snow flurries. Steve traces them with curious hands. His knuckles blur and swivel, too. “You left because… you wanted to protect me from… yourself?” He sums up, not sure if he’s getting the math right.

“I left because I’m a scared little shit who couldn’t handle getting bullied in a parking lot, but uh. Yeah. I guess I, like, didn’t want to…” His eyes go big and startled, cheeks flooding bright pink. “Oh, shit, I was about to say I didn’t want to curse you, Jesus Christ.”

Steve honks with laughter. Loud and deep and punched out without warning, because the irony of that — that there’s a literal big bad running around cursing people, and the person who was actually doing some real good in his life decided that he was the problem — it’s fucking— hilarious! Hysterical! Steve giggles himself sick, lungs burning as it tapers to a silent wheeze, and Eddie joins him, confusion giving way to compulsion; contagion in the manic giddiness spewing out of Steve.

“You thought—” Steve struggles through hiccups, tears beading in his lash line, “you thought you were the bad luck charm in this relationship?”

“Don’t mock me!” Eddie whines, still laughing. “I already said it was dumb.”

“It’s so dumb.” Eddie may be the cutest, dumbest thing he’s ever seen. He rubs his thumbs over his cheekbones, smile fading. “If anyone’s a curse, it’s me.” Four for four here on getting dragged into supernatural shit. Does Eddie really think homophobes are more dangerous than hell dimensions?

Eddie’s already shaking his head. “You’re a fucking blessing.”

Warmth radiates through Steve, drips from the crown of his head like a downpour of holy water. He feels anointed. Ascended. He feels— “Please tell me we’re allowed to kiss now.”

Their mouths crush together, impossible to tell who moves first, whose tongue is in whose mouth, whose desperate breath Steve swallows as Eddie rolls him onto his back. Hands roam and pull and clutch, molding the shape of him into the earth. Maybe someday, Steve thinks, if aliens invade, they’ll study these imprints like crop circles, trampled declarations of how much Steve loves this boy. “God,” he gasps into the kiss. “Missed you so much.”

“So much.”

“Don’t do that to me again. Don’t go.”

“Never,” Eddie swears. His grip tightens on Steve’s waist. “Never again, baby, I fucking promise. I think I—”

On the far side of the house, leaves crunch and branches snap as a car pulls up the drive. Boots on pavement, rowdy voices; unfamiliar; red alert.

“Spread out, boys!” the voice of Jason Carver bellows. “If that Freak’s in here, we’ll find him.”

—

part 68

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[petpenname]

❤️‍🔥Red Wine Supernova❤️‍🔥

pairing: dealer!ellie williams x introverterd(f)reader c.w. smoking, drinking summary: modern college au, dealer!ellie x introverted!(f)reader, slow burn with some sad elements, inspired by Red Wine Supernova by Chapel Roan Parts: 1. I Just Want To Get To Know You 2. Mini Skirt and My Go-Go Boots 3. I Don't Care That You're a Stoner + Epilogue: Falling Into Me a/n: this ones long buckle up

Part Two

Mini Skirt and My Go-Go Boots

Music filled House 03 in each room as the girls got ready for that night's party. Olivia and Ivy share a room, blasting 2000’s pop throwbacks and club hits as they adorned themselves with low rise jeans and sparkles. Phoebe was playing 70s hits from the living room. Her and Daniel in matching bellbottoms, lounging on the couch pregaming already. Sage was in your room, as you struggled to form an outfit. Sitting pretty in her 90’s basement grunge attire, she questioned you about the night before.

Sage: “So she actually came over?! And you smoked with her! Look at you!”

“No, don't look at me! I don't know what to wear!” You say, holding up articles of clothing. “But yeah, she texted me while I was in the bath!”

“Oh, sensual,” Sage said with a wink. Seeing your distressed look she dropped the teasing and turned her attention to your wardrobe which was strewn across your room. 

“What about those white boots! You could go as a go-go dancer!” Sage pointed at a pair of knee high white platform boots. You had only worn them out once but they were practically perfect for a 60’s themed look. 

You picked them up, “okay yeah, but what do I wear them with?” “I dunno, a mini skirt?” Sage said laughing, she left the room to start pregaming and give you space to get ready.

You end up putting on a pink and orange plaid mini dress that fits your curves so perfectly. You opt to have your hair down and natural, pinning back one side behind your ear. A simple eye look to complete the look with a signature 60s line above your eye, in pink of course.  

You stand in front of your full-body mirror inspecting yourself. You are usually confident in your looks but tonight you feel an extra form of confidence. Something about the spontaneity of last night after a grueling finals week. 

“Hey y/n, you're almost ready?!” You hear Ivy shout from down the hall.

“Yeah! Coming!” You grab a cute white shoulder bag and put your go-go boots on. Grabbing your phone, extra lip gloss and taking one more look in the mirror before heading downstairs. 

Your roommates are pregaming in the kitchen when you come down too hoots and hollers about how great you look. You return the girls compliments taking in everyone's looks. Phoebe hands you a shot and a lime and you all take one for the road. The walk to House 09 takes less than 10 minutes. You and Sage take up the rear of the group adventure.

“So are you going to see Ellie tonight?” Sage nudges you in the side playfully 

“I don't know, probably, she said she would be here?” You are looking down to hide your obvious blushing. You had confided in Sage the most about your sexuality. Having come out as bisexual last year you've only had two girlfriends, which didn't end the best. You had a tendency to shut yourself away and you guess that didn't sit right with partners. But you also felt like they never respected your space. You decided to focus on yourself but sometimes, stoned, late at night Sage would get you to confess how lonely you were. You yearned for someone to love you, and for you to love them back.

“Wait, Sage, did you set this up or something like some blind date?” You remembered how Sage introduced Phoebe to Daniel and their relationship was solid. 

“No dude!” Sage chuckled. “I promise, Ellie asked for your number, practically begged for it! And plus she's been dropping off to the house for months now, don't you think I would have set you up sooner if i thought about it?”

Ellie begged for it? Intrusive thoughts of Ellie on her knees looking up at you with those emerald eyes flash through your mind, making your heart skip a beat. You sigh, pushing the perverted thought away. “okay yeah i guess not, I don't know she seems cool, i hardly know her though.” 

“Well get to know her!” Sage jumps ahead of you and turns down the path to H09, music already blaring into the street . You take a breath of air before following your roommates into the loud college party. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next few hours are a blur of colored lights, dance music, and drinking. You don’t drink alot but you are also more familiar with the taste of liquor than smoke. So in the company of your roommates you take another shot and accept a mixed drink from Daniel, the designated bartender for the house. 

“Do you guys want to go dance?” Ivy shouts over the music

You all exchange nods, leaving Phoebe with her boyfriend at the makeshift bar and head to the living room to dance.

Whatever was in your cup tonight let you let loose a little more than usual. You worked up a sweat dancing to hits from the 50s to the 2000’s. Before you know it the room was getting a little too hot and you were a little too out of breath. You gestured to Sage to get her attention,

“I'm going to step out back for some air!” you say fanning yourself, still stepping to the beat

“Okay girl! Do you want company?” Sage responds over the music

“No no keep dancing! I'll find you guys!”

“Dont Irish Goodbye on us again y/n!” Ivy points and dances in your direction. “I'll come find you if you're not back in twenty minutes!” she blows you a kiss.

You laugh, “I won't leave! Promise!” Dancing your way out of the mass of moving bodies you head through the house and out into the back yard. The cool air instantly gives you a sense of relief as the commotion from inside gets muffled by the closing door. You choose to sit on the porch steps, staring up at the sky and you start to look for stars.

 Due to the light pollution you are only able to see a handful of stars at the moment. While you are looking you hear the back door open and close. Glancing over your shoulder you see none other than Ellie step outside, face flushed and hair slightly damp clinging to her neck. She wore a white tank top, blue flannel and blue jeans, the same dirty converse from last night. 

“Oh hey whats up cutie! You made it!” Ellie says when she catches your eye. She fumbles over to you and sits down next to you, letting out a sigh. “Oh my god it's hot in there, yeah?” “Hey, yeah it is” you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. She called you that name again. You both avert your gaze from each other, a beat of awkward silence before Ellie says, “you want to smoke with me?” and pulls out another immaculately rolled joint. 

“Only if you tell me what decade you're supposed to be dressed up as?” you joke, looking her over. Most of the guests had gone all out with their fits. 

Ellie chuckles “Whichever decade that supplies this party with weed.” 

“Sooo 90s?” You say as you watch her face light up as she sparks the joint. 

“Sure let's go with that” she exhales, turning her body towards you, with one leg bent on the deck and the other stretched out down the steps. She leans towards you slightly as she hands you the joint.

“And you are…. No don't tell me…. 70’s?” Ellie guesses as you take a drag from the joint.

You let the smoke out as you giggle, “no! 60’s! I'm wearing go-go boots”  You stick a leg up and gesture to your boots

Before you could think Ellie reaches out and touches your boot, sliding her long fingertips, from the ankle up to the top. “Oh wow, yeah now i see them” flicking her eyes from your leg to make eye contact with you. 

Your ears become hot at the sudden contact and you put your leg back down, take another puff before handing it back. There are those flutterings, they are much lower tonight.

“Wow and you're smoking more tonight! You're like a totally different person than who I met yesterday.” Ellie jokes as she takes the joint and leans back on her other hand. “Miss never goes to parties”, she teases.

Still feeling her gaze on you, you can't bring yourself to look at her so you look back at the night sky, leaning back on your hands. “Don’t get used to it, this is my one outing of the semester.” 

“Yeah me too, honestly.” Ellies tone turns a little serious as she too looks up at the night sky, taking another drag of the joint and using it to point.

“The Big Dipper should be right there, you can see the start of it, but there's too much light to see the rest.”

“Mhmm” you hum, “I wish i could see them all, I could in my hometown.” 

“Yeah me too” Ellie says, “Do you want another hit off this?” 

You look back down and the simple motion of your head moving in space brings your awareness to just how fucked up you are. You know alcohol takes a bit to have an effect but you have also never drank and smoked together. 

“No, thanks, ugh I'm feeling a bit light headed.” you say.

“Oh shit” Ellie puts out the joint and flicks it away, “Do you need some water?” 

“Yeah that would be cool, I just need to catch my breath” You say as cooly as possible.

“Okay stay right here!” Ellie gets up and is gone in a flash,

Your head is spinning and you grab onto the railing for some stability, willing yourself not to throw up in this back yard. Deep breaths in and out help you regain a bit of your strength and feeling. You hear the backdoor open and shut as a few pairs of feet hit the deck. 

“Hey, hey girl you okay?” Sage is next to you with a glass of water, you take and sip it slowly.

“Hey dude yeah, i'm good, I don't know if i'll go back inside though.” 

“Yeah that's understandable, did you smoke too?”

You nod, and take another sip of water. Sage gives you a sympathetic look through her own blood shot eyes.

“I'll walk her home” you hear Ellie say, who you realize had been standing behind you the whole time.  

Sage looks up, “oh yeah, I mean if you don't mind? You cool with that y/n?  

You finish the water and hand your cup back to Sage, “Yeah, you stay Sage, tell Ivy I'm sorry for leaving again”

“Sure babes, and hey it's not an irish goodbye if you say goodbye!” She helps you up and says bye to Ellie and you before going inside. 

“Are you sure you're feeling okay?” Ellie turns to you, a look of worry on her face.

“Yeah I'm feeling better now, I just have never smoked and drank together before.” 

Ellie laughs, “damn what are you a virgin too?” 

Such a direct joke caught you off guard, “uh no, i'm not.” you say defensively, turning away feeling your cheeks flush.

“I'm kidding, I promise! Sorry, come on let's get you home hun”

You curse yourself for being so quick to defend yourself, you were actually quite experienced, at least with your own body. You just didn't know exactly how to express that to your partners. 

Ellie led you out the back garden gate holding it open for you, you felt her hand cup the small of your back as she guided you to the sidewalk. You let her hand rest on your waist as her warmth warms you up in the cool night air. 

“Are you going to go back to the party?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“Nah probably not, i dont really hang out with a lot of people. I just go to sell.” Ellie responds matter of factly. 

“What about your roommate?”

“Oh Dina? She’s with Jessie, I love hanging out with them but I have the dorm all to myself tonight!” She gives you that stupid sideways grin again

You smile back at her before looking forward, feeling a bit nervous realizing how close you two were walking. Her hand still on the small of your back, and her index finger tracing small circles, like she was nervous too. 

You walk the rest of the block in silence and she walks up to your front door, stepping away from you before saying, “You sure you're okay to be left alone? I feel like I need to see you drink another glass of water.” 

Maybe it was the joint, maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the feeling deep inside of you wishing for someone to be close to you again. You missed her warmth. Either way you find yourself answering before thinking

“You could just come in? I'll drink a glass of water to prove I'm good!” You hold a hand to your chest like making a royal promise. 

Ellie chuckles, scratching the back of her neck and looking down, “Oh shit, yeah sure, I’ll come in” Did you just make her nervous?

“Cool” You say, fishing your keys out of your purse. You enter the house, flipping on a few lights and tossing your bag on the table. 

“I have to get out of my shoes first!” you exclaim, taking a seat, suddenly out of breath again.

“Here allow me!” Ellie says, skipping to your side and kneeling down, before you could protest she has your right leg in her hands, inspecting for a zipper. “It's on the inside” you laugh at her willingness for chivalry, pointing at the zipper on the inside of your ankle.

“Inside huh?” Ellie said in a tone that made your stomach flip. She finds the zipper, pulls down and slides the boot off your leg. Revealing fuzzy pink socks adorned with a Kirby embroidered at the top. Holy shit you forgot you had those socks on?!

“Oh my god Kirby!” Ellie laughs, “I didn't know what socks to expect but i dont think these were it.”

“What's wrong with kirby?” You counter teasingly, the alcohol giving you some courage post sock reveal.

“Nothing! I just feel like i'm finding out little crumbs of information about you”, Ellie laughs again, “You're like a puzzle, or a riddle? I just want to get to know you.” she looks you in the eyes when she says that. 

That last sentence felt so personal. You sat back in silence as Ellie removed your other shoe, revealing a second, pink kirby sock. She looks up at you and you realize she's on her knees, in front of you. Did you dream this into reality? How did such a pretty girl just fall into your life like this? You almost lose yourself in her eyes before she speaks again.

“You still gotta drink water for me, pretty girl.” 

You nod, as she rises from the floor and looks around for the kitchen. Rising too and guiding her in the dim lit kitchen you grab a glass of water and return to stand in front of her to drink it. Finishing strong with a sigh and a smile, you set the glass down on the counter and turn to her.

“All done” you say

“Good girl” Ellie says with a smirk, staring into your eyes. Your stomach does a flip again, she is way too comfortable calling you pet names. 

Like magnets the two of you slide closer until you are inches away from each other in the dim kitchen light. Both of your breaths hitch as you watch Ellie's eyes dart from your eyes, to your lips, and back up. You swear you could stare at her like this for hours, but you wanted nothing more than to closet the space between you two.

*DING DING*

The ring of Ellies phone sounds off in her pockets, startling both of you away from the tension boiling between you. 

“Ah fuck what now” Ellie says under her breath. She quickly checks her phone and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Fuckers need more weed at the party. I should probably let you get your beauty sleep huh?” She says, shoving her phone back in her pocket.

You involuntarily let out a yawn as she makes the suggestion and you hide your face from her gaze. Partially from the yawn, mostly to hide your disappointment “yeah, I should probably sleep this buzz off, I'll walk you out?” 

“Sure thing” she says.

You both head for the door, Ellie lingers a bit, swaying side to side before saying bye and dipping fast down the steps. You say bye and close the door behind her. Stealing yourself upstairs to take off your makeup and outfit. A quick self care routine later and you are passed out in bed.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ellie lights a joint in frustration as she walks out of H09. She really didn't want to go back there but ended up staying another hour because Jessie and Dina guilted her into drinking more. Thoughts of you swirl in the girl's head as she makes the walk to her dorm. Your eyes, your legs, your lips, your kirby socks. Ellie laughs to herself, and pulls out her phone. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You wake up the next morning with a headache. Checking the time on your phone you're shocked to see you slept in until 11!

You have a few unread messages:

Ellie: want to meet for coffee? Ivy: I made pancakes! Sage: how can you have so much energy all the time? Be right ther Olivia: shhh sleeping

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Meet for coffee??” Sage said, mouth full of pancake. You and your roommates are sitting around the kitchen eating room-temperature pancakes and discussing the night before. 

“That's what she said?!” you say, pouring some syrup over your breakfast.

“Well are you gonna go?” Ivy asks from the pantry

“I mean, yeah? I should, right?” “Only if you want to girl” Olivia say beside you

“Oh she wants to” Sage says with wink in your direction

“I do!” You say blushing, “I'm just nervous! The last times we interacted were so spontaneous. And this is like, she's asking me out!” 

“It's just coffee babes you'll be okay! Its casual” Olivia says with a reassuring rub on your back

You smile at your roomates as you pick your phone up, responding to Ellie

y/n: “Okay :) when?”

30 seconds later you receive a text;

Ellie: “Sweet :), 1pm at the cafe?”

y/n: “I'll see you there!” 

You smile at your phone for sec before your roomates all join in on a group “oooooooooo” 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1pm comes fast. After breakfast you help clean then retire to your room to shower and get ready. It's a little chilly out this morning so you opt for a chunky sweater, comfortable wide leg pants, and sneakers. After checking yourself in your mirror and in Sage’s mirror, with her approval and luck, you head out the door. 

The walk to the cafe felt like it took forever. You become hyper aware of yourself, your outfit, anxieties bubbling up in your mind as you try to stay calm. You round a corner and can see the cafe now, and something in you stops you in your tracks. 

Memories of your past relationships flash in your mind. How hurt you were, how misunderstood you felt. Being lonely was familiar but it always stung when someone left your life. You will yourself to take a chance, your roommate’s comment in your mind for comfort. You’re just meeting for coffee, it's casual. With a deep breath, trying to gain some confidence you continue forward. You open the door to the cafe stepping in, warm cinnamon and coffee bean scents fill the air while a lofi beats track plays over the speakers. You look around and it takes you just a moment to find Ellie sitting at a table in the corner. She has a baseball cap on, looking down so she didn't see you come in. 

You take in her appearance while walking over. She's manspreading comfortably in dark green cargos, a gray t-shirt, a black zip up hoodie and black converse. You knock lightly on the table to get her attention, startling Ellie who shoots up, almost knocking her chair over behind her. 

“Hi there” you say sweetly

“Oh y/n! Morning! Er afternoon, hey” She composes her surprise and smiles at you to sit down. “I got you a coffee!” 

You realize there are two coffee cups in front of you on the table. Ellie slides one over and you see your order written on the side in black ink. Medium mocha, with half chocolate. She remembered? 

“Oh wow thank you! Do I owe you anything?” you ask, accepting the drink.

“Of course not,” Ellie says leaning back, “I just made it before I finished my shift.” 

You take a sip of your coffee, and set it down, taking in the girl sitting before you. You realize that Ellie looks exceptionally tired, she has bags under her eyes and her lips are slightly crusty. She seemed to have energy, although that must be from the caffeine she's been having throughout her shift. 

“Did you have a good night?” Ellie asks, breaking your fantasy

“Oh! Yeah, i just passed out after you left and slept so long” You laugh, trying to hold eye contact. 

“Good you got your sleep, I wish I did, i forgot I worked this morning and got woken up by my boss calling me” Ellie sighs and sips her coffee

“Oh shit, we don't have to hang out if you're tired?” You say, secretly wanting to invite her back to yours to cuddle up and watch movies. But your body does not allow the thought to come out.

“No! I want to hang out! I actually wanted to show you something, if you're down?” Ellie asks

So many thoughts fill your mind with what this thing could be. Your curiosity is endless and quickly leads to images of Ellie pulling toys out of her backpack. 

“Yeah sure, I'm not doing anything today” You say, leaning forward on your hand with your elbow on the table. Searching Ellies expression for any sign of what her intentions were. 

Ellie just gives you a big grin and leans forward too, flashing her eyes from yours, to your lips, and back up. Instantly you're reminded of last night, you hadn't even thought about your almost kiss in the shadows of your kitchen. You feel your ears going hot and instinctually pull back to drink your coffee, hoping your eyes didn't display any of your shock from the memory. 

“Sounds good, if you're ready we can head out” Ellie suggests, keeping her eyes on you.

You nod and swallow, “sure, ya” you say, your voice a little quieter. 

Ellie rises from her seat, grabbing her coffee, waits for you to rise and follows you out of the cafe. “Here follow me!” she says when you two are outside, pointing behind her. You skip up to her side and follow her through campus. Making small talk, asking each other about your coffees & the weather. You realize that Ellie is leading you into the College neighborhood, the street that you live on. 

“You want to show me the street I live on?” You ask, laughing because as far as you know, this street is a Dead End. And you have been to that dead end. Maybe she was bringing you to a house? 

“I mean yes? And no, we are going to the end, there's a spot over there.” Ellie says, taking another sip of her coffee

You were pretty sure the dead end was fenced off with a thick forest behind it. Not being very adventurous you had never thought to explore past it. You and Ellie walk the length of the block, passing other college students. You approach the end of the street, the sidewalk seemingly ends and you wait to see what Ellie will do. 

She turns around to face you, “Do you trust me?” 

“I have no reason not to you” you giggle, “you're not going to murder me are you?”

“No! Oh my god, come on, this way” Ellie smirks and nods her head to the side of the street. 

House 10 was the last house on the street, and there was a thick hedge that ran the length of the house and the fence. Ellie walks you over and the perspective change reveals about two feet between the hedge and the fence. Ellie slips into the gap and takes a few steps before making sure you are following. You're right behind her, and comment “there are no spiders right?”

Ellie laughs, “dont worry ill scare them off. It's not too far.”

You walk maybe 10 feet between the hedge and fence before Ellie stops and crouches down. Ducking through a large hole in the chainlink fence and popping up on the other side to face you. “Here hand me your coffee!” she says, sticking a hand through the hole. 

You hand her your coffee and crouch down to do the same, almost slipping on a few leaves on the ground. 

“You good? Here you go” Ellie hands your coffee back and says “i promise its not far now, just through there.'' She walks into the forest. There's a makeshift trail probably formed by other students exploring back here, and you follow her for a few minutes. Listening to the sounds of birds and wind through the trees, you start to hear the sound of running water. The trail winds around, sunlight flashing through the leaves onto Ellies auburn hair. You can't help but get lost in her figure. Your mind trailing off to things too embarrassing to say, you have no idea how long you've been walking. Ellie turns around flashing you a smile, breaking you away from your bedroom thoughts.

“Its just up here! Come on!” She picks up a bit of pace, excitement getting the best of her. 

You follow her around another corner and see a pretty amazing sight. Large concrete structures from half of a building, overgrown with vines and graffiti painting the crumbling walls. There are steps leading up to a large concrete platform with two walls in the back. You take a sec to take it all in, Ellie bounds up the steps, turns to you and puts her arms out framing the scene.

“Ta-daaaaa! What do you think?”

“This place is so cool!” You say, following her up the steps and looking more closely at the graffiti. You read “smoke em if you got em”, & “JC’11” probably from a Jackson College graduate. One catches your eye, it's smaller and closer to the ground. A black heart with red lettering that says “girls kissing girls”. 

“Ya, right.” Ellie looks around with you at “her” spot -atleast she likes to think she's claimed it. “I found it a few months ago, I come here pretty often but don't really bring anyone. I don't want everyone to know about it.”

“Yea i can understand, its peaceful out here” you respond, focusing your attention back on her

“And you haven't seen the best part!” Ellie walks across the platform to the other side, where the other wall is missing. You follow her and realize that the water you heard had gotten a bit louder since you tuned into it. As you approach the opening in the wall you are perplexed with the beauty you see. A small waterfall cascades over moss covered rocks, flowing into a stream only a few feet wide and away into the forest. All the stars aligned for the sun to shine the most on this spot in the forest. The foliage was lush, moss covered all surfaces, and tiny flowers and mushrooms dotted the scene. 

“Yeah, it's pretty great, my own secret hiding spot.” Ellie beams, stretching her arms behind her head, trying to be as casual as possible. 

You looked in awe at the scene and Ellie looks in awe at you. Taking in your features, your soft lips, your beautiful skin. She wished she could capture this image of you forever in her mind. Never had she taken someone here before, but as soon as she met you, she wanted you here, with her. And there wasn't anything she wanted to do more than to kiss you.

“This is so beautiful” you say, “want to sit down?” You say turning to her, blushing at the strong eye contact youre met with.

Instinctually Ellie takes off her hoodie, stepping back and setting it down on the ground for you and her to sit on. You are able to see a large tattoo on her forearm, looks like a fern? You both position yourselves on the makeshift blanket, with your legs hanging over the side of the ledge. 

“Do you want to smoke? I haven't since before my shift.” Ellie says after a moment of silence. 

“Oh yeah, sure! But if you keep smoking me out and buying me coffee i'm going to have to make it up to you!” You say with a smirk, playfully nudging her with your elbow.

“I'll take whatever you give me,” Ellie says as she takes out a joint box from her pocket. Butterflies flutter in your stomach at the possibilities of what your ‘repayment’ could be. 

You take the lit joint from Ellie and you two make small talk about the graffiti and nature surrounding you. Conversations turn more personal when you ask Ellie about her family. You learn of Joel, and the farm back home where Ellie spent most of her time shying away with her journal and guitar. Ellie spoke about coming out to Joel in highschool and how he was one of the only people who supported her through it. Her hometown wasn't the most accepting so she did not have many friends let alone relationships. You share your life too, realizing that you and Ellie have more things in common than you thought. Your family came around after a year or so of coming out but you only ‘came out’ to friends and the public when you moved to college. You had a boyfriend in highschool that ended badly and 1.5 relationships with girls since coming out. You say 1.5 because the first one was really a situationship that ended with the girl deciding she was straight. 

At this point the joint was dead and tossed in the brush. The sun was drifting behind the trees, casting a cool hue across the forest. 

Ellie and you listen to the stream in comfortable silence for a second. The joint is settling in nicely and bringing all your hidden thoughts to the surface. You wanted to kiss her, touch her. Your fingers are a mere centimeters from each other and you could feel the electricity through your whole body. 

Suddenly Ellie takes a breath, like she had been holding hers for a second. “CanIaskyousomething?” she says, in almost all one word. 

You turn your body to her, leaning forward slightly on your arm. “Anything” you say.

“I know… i know we just met, but, you’re really pretty and I was just wondering… canikissyou?

She rushes the last part but you hear clearly and your heart skips a beat. Ellie turns to look at you, searching your face for anything you're feeling. 

You're lost in her eyes again, your mind screaming yes but all you can do is nod at her, doe eyed and longing to feel her warmth.

Ellie breathes in looking at your lips before she leans forward, cradling your face in her hands and setting her lips on yours. The kiss is hot, passionate, slow but needy as your combined lust mixes together right there in the forest.  You feel like hours have gone by before you separate, looking into eachothers eyes, a line of spit connecting both your lips. Ellie looks like she's even higher than the joint made her and you can't help but giggle a little before going in for a second kiss. This time your hands go for her, brushing through her hair and grabbing at the nape of her neck. 

Separating for the second time ellie breathes, “wow, that was… wow”

You hum in approval, untangling your hand from her hair and resting it on your leg. You're both breathing a little heavy, lips tingling and palms sweaty. 

Ellie feels a buzz on her thigh and pulls out her phone to a string of texts, all from buyers hoping to make their Saturdays better.

“Ah fuck, im sorry, i wish we could stay here longer but, work calls…” She says with a sigh. She wishes she could stay here all day with you but Ellie was a business woman, plus she had been saving up for a few things and was so close to meeting her goal. 

You laugh, wanting to stay with her too, but you are getting hungry, probably from the joint. “That's okay, will you walk me back to the house?”

“Of course doll” Ellie says with a smile, making your already hot face burn with desire. You both stand and after grabbing her hoodie and coffee, without asking Ellie grabs your hand and begins to lead you back out of the forest. 

You walk hand in hand down the street in comfortable silence. The touch shared between you said more than you two could manage at the moment. You are submerged in your feelings and barely notice you getting to the walkway in front of your house. 

Ellie stops and turns to face you. Giving you a kiss on the back of the hand she says, “have a great day beautiful, i'll be thinking of you.”

You linger your hand in hers for a moment, blushing, mind blank but you know you need to respond. “Thanks for today Ellie, i'll talk to you soon.”

You start backing up the walkway, both of you not wanting to separate from each other's gaze. You both give one last little wave and you turn to walk into the house. 

Sage greets you from the couch, seeing the look on your face she jumps up and runs to hug you in excitement. Bringing you over to sit with her as you tell her about your time with Ellie. You feel this could be the beginning of something beautiful. Although hesitant to get close to someone again, you feel right with Ellie. You can’t help but imagine what life would be like with her. 

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a/n: AHHHHHHHHH thank u sm for the love :3 I'm actually so excited for part 3... might even open submissions for other fandoms? idk I'm just having fun! Tag List: @vqxen @bready101 @sourgummywormsss @a-little-bit-of-everybody

[roguehongsami]

Celluloid Scenes.

—★ pairing/s: professor!yunho x fem!student

—★ genre/s: smut, fluff, au

—★ synopsis: you're having difficulties grasping this chapter. your professor offers you extra classes, in which they end in the most unanticipated manner.

—★ content: teacher-student (late & early 20s, consensual), filming, pet names, oral sex, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (condomize), rough sex, degradation (barely), belt collar, breath play, creampie, cum eating, face fucking, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism.

—★ word count: 6k

—★ author's note: cliché plot but this is my first piece since i got out of my 4-year writer's block. xoxo.

* DISCLAIMER: THIS IS FICTIONAL. IT IS NOT REPRESENTATIVE OF JEONG YUNHO'S CHARACTER, PERSONALITY OR BEHAVIOUR. THIS IS SOLELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. *

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ lana del rey // cherry

Y/N has never had trouble with music theory. If anything, it was her favourite module. Never raked in a score below a 75%, even if it was a mock assessment that held no weight towards the final pass mark. Chapter 9: Time Signatures. It all went downhill from there. She had collected nothing but 35% and lower on all her mock tests. It was humiliating, to say the least. She was not comprending anything that wasn't in 4/4. This streak of perpetual failures was swallowing her whole, and the shame of it all had found residence in the crevices of her mind.

Professor Jeong Yunho sauntered towards Y/N's desk and laid a paper in front of her, facing down. Facing down. The shame is growing.

He wore a bored expression when he looked down on her, releasing an exhausted sigh, and said, "Ms. L/N, a word after class?"

He continued down the row, handing out everyone's mock tests. She buried her face in her arms on the desk, contemplating her next steps. She's made use of study guides, peer assistance, and even sourced help outside the school, but all she knew was 4/4.

Her friend, Aaliyah, hugged her and said, "You have the best ear in this class, and everybody hits a bump in the road sometimes. But I promise, you will get this before the official assessment."

"Do you know how many hours of prog metal and jazz I listened to, just to get another face-down paper?" She sat upright, lifting Aaliyah's weight off of her body, and whined "My spotify wrapped, Aaliyah."

"Wrapped is in five months. That's enough time to get Lana back at number one." Aaliyah waved her off absentmindedly. "Try blues. It is the mother of modern music, so the answers are in there somewhere."

Class came to an end. The hall started airing out as the students bid adieu. Aaliyah left Y/N behind as she found her way back to their shared apartment. Y/N remained planted in her seat, tucking away yet another inglorious mock test into her tote bag. How the earth could just open up and swallow her. Y/N made her way down to Yunho's desk, while he stood at the door sending off his last students for the day. Once the class emptied, he closed the door and sat himself on his desk, in front of Y/N.

"Your last few mocks have been quite... appalling. I'm not a stranger to failing students but this is certainly not your M.O." he dawned a disappointed look. "You're my star student, talk to me."

She pouted as her head hung low, "I've asked the other students for help and even went to the music store across town. It's just not clicking."

He furrowed his brows, concerned, "Is there something going on in your personal life that's hindering your progress?"

"Nothing I'm aware of, no."

"Be honest, Y/N. It's your last year and I wanna see you graduate in record time." one of his eyebrows arched.

"I'm telling you." her voice was high as she responded. "You think I willingly listened to Dream Theater just to make sense of the work? Emphasis on 'willingly'." She threw her hands up in exaggeration.

He let out a chuckle and mumbled, almost as if he was embarrassed, "I love Dream Theater..."

"You also love post eighties Metallica," she said, mockingly, "but I'll shame you another day seeing that I actually need help." she bat her eyelashes coquettishly.

With a wheeze, he said, "I won't dignify that with a response."

Yunho smirked as he made his way around the desk and sat down is his chair. With his body occupying the space, the chair looked more like a throne beneath him. He pinched the bridge of his nose, unleashing an exasperated sigh. He was trying to make sense of Y/N's little hiccup. As he pondered on all the possible causes of her lack of understanding in the material, silence blanketed them.

During what felt like a voyage to the moon and back, but was actually a minute, Y/N had entertained herself with the Spiderman action figure on Yunho's desk. It was a Tobey Maguire edition. Its limbs could be moved and it had built-in web shooters.

"Okay," he broke the silence, which startled Y/N. She sat the figure back down on his desk, "since you're a practical learner, I can only assume that listening isn't enough for you. So we need to get physical."

"I don't know what that means." she deadpanned.

"Another way to learn time signatures is using drums. Wooyoung is expecting a delivery of new drumkits for his class but they won't be here until the third, which is-"

Y/N cut him off and finished the sentence. "After the official assessment." Panic materialised on her face, as her mind convinced her that her failure was bound to compound.

"Exactly. Now," he leaned forward on his desk, grabbed a note and pen, and scribbled on it as he spoke. "I do have a drumkit back at my place. I can privately tutor you until we complete this chapter." He handed her the note with his address and phone number on it. "We only have two more mocks left, so let's bring your grade up before the official assessment."

Y/N's face beamed as she swiped the note out of his hand, and glanced at it with hope in her eyes. She let out a squeal, which made Yunho jolt out of his seat. He looked at her with much adoration in his eyes, proud that he had just given his student a second chance she assumed was not probable.

Official testing was Monday. Yunho tutored her Fridays through Sundays. On Fridays, Y/N would arrive promptly at his loft at 18:00 and leave at 20:00. On weekends, their sessions begun at 15:00 and concluded at 18:00. Each lesson was very much routine; Yunho would demonstrate a time signature on his drumkit, Y/N replicated it, he would play a song on the speakers, and she would have to identify the time signature.

With each passing lesson, her pattern recognition skills improved. She had went from identifying time signatures after a verse and a chorus, to half a verse, to thirty seconds into a song. Averaging 35% and lower on mocks became a thing of the past, hauling in a 50 and 68 on her last two mocks. Never one to score anything less than a 75, Y/N was growing accustomed to the idea of a 70 for this chapter. She was just appreciative of the assistance Yunho offered, which allowed her to absolve herself of the shame that had befallen her.

The lessons weren't without their own... complications. At least emotional ones, that is. Piddling instances of small talk ranging from casual topics such as movies and music transformed into hour-long personal revelations about dreams and desires. Having peered into each other's hearts and minds, and divulging their truths, they saw each other in a new light.

Behaviours taking up new form, Yunho would always steal glances of Y/N while she was doing classwork. He started wearing much stronger colognes with a sweet touch. Y/N became more mindful of the way she dressed, abandoning her usual sweatpants and tank tops for mini skirts and blouses. These changes did not go unnoticed; they saw but never spoke.

As she trode to the door, about to begin her trek to Yunho's apartment, Aaliyah called to Y/N with her eyes glued to the television. "Make sure you have your keys with you. I probably won't be here when you come back." Aaliyah's eyes landing on Y/N's form, offering a warm smile. "Have fun at your lessons."

She responded softly, with a shy smile dawning her face, "Got my keys. I'll see you at the show." she begun walking out the door but she quickly backtracked, remembering to say, "Also, please learn how to open the window after showering. It's humid when I step in."

She arrived at Yunho's loft a little bit past 15:00. When she arrived, he asked if she could wait for him to take a shower. She sat on his couch, watching the television. Starting to feel a bit unimpressed with what the television had to offer, she occupied herself with his drumkit, practicing everything she had learned in past few weeks. Yunho entered the living room and lessons went on as usual.

"I think you're ready for Monday's test." Yunho sat on the couch, right beside her, resting his arm behind her head.

Y/N turned her body to face him, crossing one leg over the other with her skirt riding up her thigh, revealing a black lace garter embellished with floral designs. His eyes danced between the garter and her eyes, not certain what was more mesmerising. She picked up on this and truthfully, her heart fluttered.

What Y/N never admitted to anybody, not even the big man upstairs, was that she always had the cutest little crush on Yunho. Since first year. These extra lessons only made her innocent infatuation inflate by ten folds. Conversely, Yunho was lured in by the praises that were sung repeatedly by Professor Kim and Choi. He would always find excuses to be in Hongjoong and Jongho's classes, just to hear Y/N either play guitar or sing. What truly trapped him was hearing her rendition of the 'Sweet Child O' Mine' guitar solo. A true beauty who could make a guitar sing as beautifully as she does.

"That 75 was looking very bleak two weeks ago. This chapter had me praying to gods I didn't worship." she grimaced as the words left her mouth.

He inched closer to her face, speaking in a low tone, "I knew you'd turn things around with proper guidance." He begun sliding his hand right up her thigh and tugged on the hem of her thong. "My star student." he whispered in her ear, sending chills down her spine.

He planted wet kisses on her neck, nipping her skin. A sharp gasp escaped her mouth; she impulsively grabbed a handful of his t-shirt and cocked her head back, giving him more access. He trailed multiple kisses across her neck, biting her skin along the way, marking her. She swiftly put herself up on his lap, straddling him between her legs. They shared a passionate kiss that only made their bodies radiate. The growing bulge in his sweats grazed her clothed sex, illiciting a sensual and breathy moan on her part.

They both knew what they were doing would warrant harsh consequences, should they ever be caught. In that moment, they cared only about what their hearts truly yearned for; each other's companionship.

"Fuck, Yuyu." she moaned as she would grind her clothed part against his bulge.

Yunho reached into her thong, separating her folds with his fingers. He was met with moisture. "Jesus, Y/N. You're already wet and we haven't even gotten to the best part."

In a flurry of motions, they were in Yunho's bedroom. He put her down on the bed and walked to the film camera in the corner of the room. He positioned it at the corner of the bed and begun filming. Hovering over her, he lifted her chin to make her face him.

Brushing his thumb on her cheek, he said, "You're gonna be a good girl for me, right?"

She hummed at his words, nodding in agreement. He leaned down to kiss her, unbuttoning her silk blouse as he went down on his knees. His hands snaked around her back, unclasping her bra, and cupping two handfuls of her mounds. His lips circled one of her nipples, licking and biting, forcing moans out of Y/N. He alternated breasts, abandoning one of them and leading his hand back into her thong. She was gushing.

With one hand still cupping her breast and his tongue teasing her nipple, he pulled her skirt off and proceed to remove her thong with his other hand. He exhanged her breast for her lips, longing for a kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck in an attempt to keep balance. His fingers separated her folds once more, his thumb playing with her clit. She gasped into his mouth, making him smile against her lips, feeling ever so proud of himself. He slid one finger into her hole, thumb still on her clit. He started pumping in and out of her slowly. A second finger. A third. Pace accelerating.

It was nearing. The knot in her stomach reporting, her walls clenching around Yunho's fingers. He could feel it approaching, it was right there but he wanted to make her beg for her release. He broke their kiss and pulled his fingers out of her, a whine escaping on her end. With haste, he took his t-shirt off and positioned his himself between her legs. Trailing kisses inside her thighs, he grabbed the garter with his teeth and slid it off her leg. He laid her down on the bed, one hand playing with her breast and the other fingering her into oblivion. His mouth wrapped around her clit, licking and kissing it. Softly nibbling her clitoris here and there, causing her back to arch. Y/N had a tight grip on Yunho's hair, not knowing what to do with her hands.

"Yuyu, please, I'm so close." she let out a moan that was bordering on a sob.

He purposely ignored her, knowing it would make her fight harder to not cum. Her walls clenched tighter than before around his fingers, the knot in her stomach getting uncomfortably tight. Tears welling in her eyes, breathing laboured, legs shaking uncontrollably. She was coming undone. He was pushing her to her limit. He felt her every reaction but still withheld those words.

Her tears escaping, running down her temples. With each passing second, she was finding it difficult to control her breathing.

"Yuyu, please." she croaked. Her grip on his hair only getting tighter.

Letting go of her breast, he grabbed her wrist and squeezed it, signaling her to leave his hair, which she reluctantly did. He peered from beneath her.

"What's my name?" he spelled out. His fingers were dancing right there by her sweet spot. She was overstimulated, seeing stars. The stimulation was making the nerves in her body cause an immense level of discomfort because her release was being withheld.

"Yuyu..." she cried in between incoherent mumbles.

"Someone doesn't wanna cum." he scoffed, burying his face back between her thighs. His tongue continued to draw circles around her clit, his fingers only getting faster.

"Yunho! It's Yunho!" she cried after a string of nonsensical ramblings.

He removed his mouth from her core, fingering her even faster than before, delivering the final blow. Those magic words. "Cum. Now." he commanded her.

The knot in her stomach snapped. Without a second to spare, her legs shook violently. Short hitched breaths. Tears streaming down her face. The thick, white, creamy nectar leaking out of her sex, seemingly neverending, came in vast quantities. He laid right beside her on the bed, enveloping her in a hug as she rode out her delirious high. Kissing her forehead, singing praises in her ear, talking her through her orgasm. Her body presumably sensitive, Yunho gently positioned her vertically on the bed.

He planted a soft kiss on her lips and stroked her hair, as he hovered over, whispering, "Don't fall asleep just yet, princess. We're not done."

The bulge in his sweats was throbbing, causing him mild discomfort. He was ready to finally relieve himself, and his favourite student was there to make it happen. He left the bedroom, Y/N trying her hardest to not drift off. Yunho returned and he leaned against the doorframe, hands behind his back, taking in the image of every curve and crevice of Y/N's body. Appreciating the goddess that laid nude in his bed, hair covering her face, awaiting an imminent awakening.

"Tell me, Y/N. Do you ever think of me while you... touch yourself?" Yunho enquired. A dark look in his eyes, with a hint of mischief.

Y/N lazily propped herself up against the headboard. Heat arose in her cheeks, feeling embarrassed. "I really don't wanna answer that, Yuyu."

He walked to the bed, revealing a digital camera, a belt and handcuffs in his hands. He put everything down on the bed except the camera, and caressed her cheek. She leaned into his touch. She felt safe, as if he was exactly who she had been waiting for her entire life. He grabbed her chin and rubbed his thumb on her bottom lip. She instinctively opened her mouth and sucked on his thumb. Yunho positioned the digital camera over her face and photographed the moment.

"That's okay. Personally, I've been thinking of ways I could touch you once I got the chance. Find new, exciting ways to stimulate you." he pulled his thumb out of her mouth, a string of saliva lingering. "See the way you were crying when you came? That was beautiful." he leaned in to her, brushing her lips with his own. "That's what my star student deserves as a reward, for being so hardworking and obedient."

She nodded in agreement as she closed the gap between them. A very short but heated kiss. Yunho pulled away and began to position her. Her knees pressed into the pillows, with her wrists handcuffed to the headboard, he pressed his hand down her back to make her arch. He looped his belt around her neck and let it hang on her back.

Once he took off his sweats, he positioned himself behind her, spreading her legs a bit wider. His member was long and girthy, a large vein running along the base. His slit leaking profusely with precum. He took the tip of his cock and ran it between her folds, as he was pumping it to get it harder, still slick with her nectar. The tip slid into her entrance. He slowly begun stretching her out, proving difficult as she was tight and he was... oversized. With every inch he fed her, they both started shaking. By the time he bottomed her, they were sweating buckets. Both his hands on her hips, slowly, he started pulling out and thrusting in with a bit more speed and impact, grazing her cervix. As they both grew accustomed to the rhythm, he looped the belt around his hand, gently tugging on it.

Although she did not verbally say, Y/N enjoyed the way Yunho tugged the belt. Breathy moans bouncing on the walls with each pull. Yunho watched how Y/N's ass recoiled everytime he pounded into her; a sight to behold. He loved it. Slowing down the pace, he took camera right beside him and begun taking pictures of his cock inside her. He tugged on the belt so that her head would face the ceiling. Smile for the camera. He put the camera back down and picked up the pace. His arm snaking around her waist, rubbing her clit vigorously.

With Yunho still tugging on the belt, slowly beginning to cut her air circulation, but leaving enough room for her to breathe, he pounded even harder. Skin clapping. Laboured breathing. Grunts and moans. Her cunt squelching. All these sounds melding together within the walls. It was amazing. That knot in her stomach paid her a second visit. There it was again. She feared he would repeat what he did before.

She spoke with a slight rasp in her voice, "I- I- I'm gonna c-cum..."

He rubbed her clit even harder. "Not yet, my little cocksleeve. Just a little longer."

Her nerves were getting overworked, yet again. She started sob-moaning as she did her utmost best to keep herself from unraveling. "Yuyu, I feel like I'm gonna explode. Please!" she cried hysterically.

Yunho tugged on the belt, causing her head to cock backwards. "Just take it like the good girl that you are, okay baby? Don't be a brat." he groaned in her ear.

"Yunho, I'm trying." she cried.

He released the belt and stopped rubbing her clit. Grabbing either sides of her hips, he rammed into her relentlessly. "Come on, princess. Cum on daddy's cock." he groaned. Without changing rhythm, he grabbed the camera again. As he felt her clamp around his cock, she released. A beautiful moan leaving her mouth. A white ring started forming around his cock, and he photographed this glorious creation. Y/N rode out her high on Yunho's cock, with bits of her juices dripping out, as she waited for him to get his.

Yunho's hips moved erratically as his own orgasm crept in. The tension in his stomach vanished as soon as he came inside Y/N. His cock was twitching inside her pussy. He plastered himself on her back while he came, his arms snaked around her waist. Whispering praises and promises in her ear. Planting kisses all over the side of her face. Taking nips of her skin.

After a few fleeting minutes, he then took off her handcuffs. As he pulled his member out of her pussy, a white, thick stream made its way down her thighs. Some of it dripping on the sheets. He quickly cleaned her up, rushed to the kitchen to get her a glass of water, and changed the sheets. She was out cold as soon as her head hit the pillow. He truly drained her.

Yunho stopped the recording and put the camera back where it initially was; in the corner of the room. He snuck into bed, cocooning Y/N in his chest and planting a soft kiss on her forehead. She was a true beauty to behold. He was boasting.

Almost two weeks had passed since Y/N and Yunho's sexual congress. Y/N earned herself a 73 on her official test, the lowest she'd ever gotten. She took it with stride as the alternative could've been worse. That Monday of the test was the last time she saw Yunho. As soon as she completed her test, she left her script with her professor and sped out of class, not allowing an opportunity for him to speak to her to present itself.

Y/N got what she wanted for the longest time but she didn't know how to navigate its aftermath. She felt awkward, didn't know how to act. Afraid that Yunho would tell her that it was just a one-time thing. She did not want to hear that. However, Yunho was feeling regretful of that fateful Sunday. Not because of the sex, but because of how Y/N was avoiding him. He was gutted. Losing sleep some nights. Never having seen her in class since Monday's test. Worried of her whereabouts. She wasn't answering his texts nor calls. All he could do was wait until the next time he saw her.

Waldorf Music Academy was hosting their annual mixer, where final-year students were given the opportunity to socialise and make connections with industry executives and artists. WMA was a hotspot for anyone seeking an educated individual who could turn 'generally favourable reviews' into 'universal acclaim'; a magnum opus. Its alma maters ranging from musicians to teachers with their own practices to executives. Industry titans from all over the world could only hope to get an invitation.

She knew this mixer was a once in a lifetime opportunity and couldn't miss it. Her dream of being a songwriter and composer was right there. Y/N spent the whole week preparing herself. Looking presentable was a must. She would not have her moment marred by poor etiquette.

A red, low-back floor-length silk gown with thin straps that criss-crossed in the back, was her choice. Paired with white strapped heels and a white quilted clutch. Her ensemble was embellished with a pearl choker necklace and a 3-piece pearl bracelet with a gold clasp. Breathtaking was not a testament to how magnificent she looked.

Yunho was sporting a black suit with a black tie, a white button-up shirt, a black waistcoat and patent leather oxfords. A silver lapel chain connecting two rubies, hung from the lapel down to the front pocket. His look complete with ruby cufflinks.

The mixer was in full swing. Artists and executives, students and professors were interacting. Some students were lucky enough to exchange contacts with people could open up doors for them. As Y/N spoke with a few songwriters who were behind multiple 2010s pop and hip-hop hits, a longing Yunho was burning holes into the back of her head with his stare from a few feet away. In all honesty, he was enticed by her bare back. He was waiting to go in for the kill.

As Y/N concluded her conversation, she slowly walked away. Yunho took a few strides towards her. He discreetly touched her lower back, which made her gasp. She took a quick glance to her side and faced front just as fast. They walked aimlessly together, side by side.

"Princess, you look otherworldly." he whispered, enough for her to hear but for no one to catch on. "Who's attention are trying to get?"

Maintaining the same tone, she responded, "You look ravishing, Yuyu. But certainly not yours."

"I haven't seen you since your test and you haven't attended any of my classes. You're my star student, talk to me." he recited. That succint statement creating a déjà vu effect.

Her steps faltered momentarily at 'star student' before her step was restored. "I've been feeling under the weather so I thought-"

"Don't lie to me, Y/N." he gently grabbed her wrist and yielded their stroll. He gave her a grave look. "I know you've been avoiding me because Hongjoong told me you were at every guitar lesson." he let go of her wrist to avoid attracting unwanted attention.

She gulped and sighed, defeatedly. "I felt... weird, after we... you know... had sex." she gestured with her hands. "I started avoiding you so you wouldn't get the chance to tell me it was a one-time thing. It sucks because I..." she released a shaky breath. "think I have feelings for you."

"That's on me for not prompting the conversation sooner. But do you realise how worried I was? How bad I felt when you didn't answer my texts or calls?" he shook his head. "Y/N, you can't just disappear on me whenever you don't understand your own feelings."

"Approaching you with matters unrelated to school is difficult because I don't know where we stand."

From the inside of his jacket, he produced a gold ring with an obsidian stone. "I was planning on giving you this after class, once you got your test results. But you've been M.I.A. So I brought it with me, hoping I would see you, so we could talk about, I don't know... a relationship?" he said, suggestively. The look in his eyes was softer. "I'm a grown man. No games, I want something serious."

She took the ring in her hand, admiring it with wide eyes, "There's no harm in talking, right?" she slid the ring on her right index and looked up at Yunho. "I don't wanna get you in trouble, Yunho."

"Don't worry, princess. We'll only meet in my loft since it's in the inner city, away from campus. After your graduation, we'll be free." he smiled reassuringly.

"Thank you for being so understanding." she returned the smile.

"I booked a room in the hotel. Ten-oh-three. See you after the mixer?"

She nodded quickly. "Midnight."

The hall was slowly emptying as guests departed. It was quite easy for Y/N to slip out without anyone noticing. Yunho had already disappeared by 23:00. As she rode silently in the elevator, she was hoping nobody from school would see her. The idea of getting caught was brewing anxiety inside her. The doors opened and she was met with a giant "floor 10" silver lettering. She walked down the hallway and stopped before 1003.

After a few knocks, Yunho opened the door and pulled her in while snaking his arm around her waist. Locking the door, he bridal carried her and plastered soft pecks all over her face. Y/N was very giggly. She dropped her clutch on the coffee table. They laid in bed, with Y/N beneath him. He tucked hair behind her ears, and started stroking her hairline. She toiled with the hair at the back of his neck. A few moments of silence passed as they enjoyed each other's embrace.

He started kissing her sensually, cupping either side of her face. She returned the kiss enthusiastically. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist. He got up off the bed and took off his waistcoat and shirt. Grabbing her by the ankles, he dragged her to edge of the bed and put her legs on his chest. He took off her heels and started massaging her legs.

"Tell me, princess. How far do you want us to go?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Our relationship."

She pondered on her thoughts. Not wanting to be so vague that it planted doubt in Yunho's mind, but not so honest that she sounded desperate. "Right now, I'm okay with this. I don't wanna set expectations that could be beyond our reach. Let's just... go with it."

Y/N sat upright on the bed, her legs dangling off the edge. She gently tugged on his waistband, bringing her lips to his stomach. He shut his eyes and took in a deep breath. His hand played with her hair. She unbuckled his belt and brought his pants down low enough for his cock to spring out.

It stood long and hard in front of her face, grazing her chin. She took him in her hand and placed a wet kiss on the tip. As she wrapped her lips around the tip and licked it, she slowly begun pumping his shaft. He let out a shaky breath. Her mouth felt warm around him. She worked his cock all the way down her throat, stilling for a few seconds.

When she pulled him out, a string of saliva lingered. She pumped him again, looking him in the eye and saying, "Tell me you want this, Yuyu. That you want me." she licked her upper lip.

He groaned. "Fuck, I want you and more, baby girl."

She planted her mouth back on his cock, sliding down halfway and leaving enough room to keep pumping. Her tongue laved him, wetting his cock immensely. Sucking on his cock and creating a suction effect, that paired with the rapid pumping was driving him to imminent euphoria. The feeling was sensational for him, expressing his pleasure with multiple breathless moans and praises.

Yunho looped her hair around his hand and said, "Let out your tongue, princess."

Y/N laid her tongue flat and stopped pumping. She put her hands on her thighs as he started thrusting in her mouth. The walls of her throat felt like velvet around his member. The thrusts accelerated gradually and he was pounding hard. Try as hard as she may, her gag reflex betrayed her. She started crying. He was just too big for her. He stilled deep in her throat, holding her steady for a few moments. His cock was throbbing against the back of her throat. Shortly after, he pulled out, only leaving the tip in. He came in her mouth. She was sucking him, milking him dry of all he had. She pumped out as much of the cum as she could. All of his nectar collected in her mouth, some going down her chin. It was warm and tasted a bit salty, with a creamy consistency. She swallowed all of it. She peered up to him, doe eyed, wiping the residue on her chin with her thumb and licking it.

Yunho bowed down to meet her eyes and smirked. "You're such a pretty crier." he cupped her face, wiping away her tears. "My pretty little plaything."

Their lips crashed into one another, Yunho forcing his tongue into her mouth just to taste himself. She moaned into his mouth, squeezing her thighs together to stimulate herself. He grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head. Her nipples stood at attention at the feel of the slightly chilly temperature. Her lace thong was the next to be discarded. Tucking his cock back in his pants, he pulled away from her.

"Play with yourself." he said with authority.

She guided her hand down to her sex as she spread her legs open on the bed. As she held Yunho's gaze, she used the slick that had gathered in her cunt to lube her clit. She rubbed that little sensitive bud, slowly picking up speed. Her body temperature started rising. She slid two fingers into her hole, thrusting them. She knew she couldn't crest an orgasm without help, but that didn't stop her from trying. Her moans filled the room as she pleasured herself for her partner. Yunho took his cock out and started rubbing one out. He was so aroused by Y/N. It didn't take long until he was leaking precum and she was dripping arousal on the sheets.

"Don't you wanna help me out, Yuyu?" she said, almost out of breath. "I can't cum without you."

"Anything for you, princess." he dropped his pants all the way down to the floor.

He positioned himself between her thighs, running his tip through her slick cunt. The tip slowly stretched her out. Gasping into his mouth, she supported herself using his broad shoulders. He filled her all the way up and started slow stroking, getting faster as the rhythm smoothed out. Taking one hand, while balancing himself with his forearm, he had his hand on her neck. Applying pressure to her sides. He told her to open her mouth and he spit inside.

"Yunho, faster!" she begged.

Yunho was getting aroused with the way her breasts danced with every pounding. Her moans were the single most beautiful song he had ever heard. Her sweet cunt was only getting warmer and slicker. The unholy squelching as their hips moved in tandem. This was his heaven. He brushed against her sweet spot hastily. She felt the pressure build up in her stomach, and her walls clenching around him. She was going to crest it; sweet, sweet release. This time she was going to comply just to get a hit. Yunho's wasn't far either as he moved erratically inside her.

"I'm not gonna make you beg." he grunted. "Cum. Now."

"Fuck, yes!" she moaned with pleasure.

Y/N locked her legs tightly around Yunho. As the pressure in her stomach eased, her high hit her like a tidal wave. She dug her freshly manicured nails into his back. His cock spasmed inside her, releasing his second load of the night. Both trying to gather themselves, the ecstasy slowly subsided. Yunho slid his cock out of her and left a kiss on her forehead. She was brought into a bear hug in bed.

"I really love how you say 'Yuyu'. It's cute, adorable honestly." he kissed the top of her head.

She beamed as if hearing the most life-changing news. "I knew you'd love it. But you kept pretending like you didn't." she pouted.

"I was just teasing, princess. You get worked up so easily." he chuckled into her hair.

"You know, I love 'princess'. Makes me feel important."

"Because you are, and I intend on treating you like one." he cooed in her ear as he brought her hand to his face, and kissed the obsidian stone.

[ewills]

APPLE CIDER ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩

description: fluff! just a drabble to start my account! any tips of my writing will be very much appreciated <33 loser!elle? modern au! enjoy ;) listen to apple cider by beabadoobee while reading

it had been a few days since you had moved in, you decided to explore the small shops lining the coastline, one in particular caught your eye, a small record store perched on a small lane at the end of the pebbled road. ‘williams records’ the sign hung low and poorly nailed to a piece of driftwood, you walked inside your cherry red converse creaking on the floorboards, you looked through the many albums your eyes landing on a small record player now playing ‘take on me’ by a-ha. cool. “looking for anything?” your interrupted, you look up to see an eager auburn haired girl looking at you, hair cut jagged at the shoulders and a name tag reading ‘ellie’ “um yes actually do you have ‘hunting high and low?” you ask“by a-ha?” she responds a small smile on her freckled face “sure i’ll go get for you-i’ll just be a second” she walks off quickly leaving you no time to respond

internally ellie’s freaking the fuck out, a pretty girl walks into her store and asks her about a-ha her favourite fucking band, there’s no way.

she returns a couple minutes later record in hand and a stupid smile hanging from her face “thank you” you smile “no problem so-uh i haven’t seen you around here?” she responds desperately trying to make any sort of small talk with you “yeah i’m with my dad for the summer thought i’d explore..i like your shop..by the way it’s really cool” you smile. she blushes. “thanks i’m ellie by the way-ELLIE! a voice shouts cutting her off “i can’t find this damn film c’mere for a sec kiddo” her face immediately turns a very dark red “that’s my dad uh-i guess i’ll see you around beautiful” she smiles and walks away very quickly nearly tripping over her untied laces on her way out. :)

[solarmorrigan]

For the fanfic mash-up prompt list, what about 2. Historical and 73. Stranded due to inclement weather?

Me, a history minor, upon reading this prompt: I've never learned anything about any period in history ever in my life

But! After drawing a blank for a while, we've got some vaguely Great Depression-era Steddie

Fanfiction Trope Mashup: 1. Historical AU + 73. Stranded Due to Inclement Weather

cw: brief assumed infidelity (not actually, though)

-

The drifter is handsome, beneath the smudges of road dust he’s picked up from traveling; his long hair is tied back from his face, revealing a soft mouth, high cheekbones, and eyes you could get lost in. He’s carrying a guitar on his back and not much else. He isn’t dressed nearly warm enough for the weather as it is, and certainly not for the snow that the heavy clouds above are threatening.

Steve already knows he’s going to invite him in.

“I don’t give handouts,” Steve says, mostly for himself, so he can pretend he isn’t a soft touch.

“I’m not asking for a handout,” the drifter says. “I’m more than happy to work for a meal.”

Steve pauses, like he’s thinking. There isn’t much left to the Harrington farm these days; they really only have the house, the barn, and enough land to keep some livestock – mostly chickens. (Robin loves the chickens; when they eat one, she makes sure they thank it by name, which Steve personally thinks is weird, but whatever helps her part more easily with them, he guesses.) The chores don’t take long, usually, but with Robin gone for the week, visiting her mother a few towns over, there are still a few things that need doing.

“Guess I could use a hand,” Steve says, and the drifter smiles at him, bright and dimpled, and Steve can practically hear Robin tutting at him – such a sucker for a pretty face.

At least the imaginary Robin in his head is easier to dismiss.

The drifter—“Eddie,” he introduces himself with a firm, calloused handshake—stores his guitar in the kitchen and gets to work helping Steve around the farm (such as it is). He doesn’t seem to have much familiarity with farmwork specifically, but he’s a hard worker and a good listener, and he slots in right alongside Steve with surprising ease.

He’s a bit of a talker – a storyteller, more like, spinning all kinds of yarns about his travels, half of which Steve is sure can’t be true, but which have him hooked anyway. Eddie seems to like him that way: his attention so focused on Eddie that he almost forgets what he’s doing several times throughout the day.

The hours fly by; the wind gets stronger, and you can almost taste the snow on it. Steve gives the animals one last check, makes sure everything is ready to weather a storm should it come, and then he and Eddie hurry inside the house. Steve cooks while Eddie washes up, and they eat sitting at the kitchen table like Steve and Robin usually do; there’s no one to impress by sitting in the overwrought dining room that had always intimidated Steve as a kid.

Snow is falling thick and fast by the time they finish eating.

“I’m not enough of a bastard to send you back out in that,” Steve says, twitching the curtains aside to look at the way little drifts have already started to collect against the fenceposts. “You’re welcome to stay, if you want.”

“Well, I’m not enough of an idiot to turn you down,” Eddie replies, sending Steve a sly grin. “Anything you want me to do around the house to earn a bed for the night?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he nods towards the living room. “Keep me company by the fire for a while?”

It’s a bit of a gamble – if Steve’s read Eddie wrong, this could end very badly, but Steve doesn’t think he has. He’s always been good at gauging a person’s interest, and he’s certain he’d caught Eddie’s eyes wandering more than once when he thought Steve wasn’t paying attention.

Eddie spends a long moment regarding Steve. “I’ll do you one better,” he finally says, and reaches for his guitar.

Eddie’s voice is rough and low, not always in key, but sincere and achingly soulful. He plays like he was born with a guitar in his hands, pulling music from it a hundred times better than anything Steve’s ever heard on the radio. If he’d been distracted by Eddie before, he’s absolutely enraptured now. He doesn’t even realize he’s been steadily drifting closer to him on the sofa until their knees are brushing.

“It’s getting late,” Eddie says, glancing towards the clock on the mantle. “Am I going to bunk in the barn?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable in the house.”

“Sure.” Eddie’s grin is slow-spreading as he watches Steve. “It’s pretty cozy down here by the fireplace. Sofa’s nice.”

“I could make you up a bed on the sofa.” Steve nods. “Or – there’s plenty of room in my bed, upstairs. Much cozier up there.”

Eddie’s grin is positively wolfish now. “You’d have me in your marriage bed?” he teases, and Steve shakes his head.

“My wife and I don’t share a bed,” he says (this is largely true, except when they have unavoidable overnight visitors, or when it’s very cold).

“No?” Eddie asks.

“We have an understanding,” Steve replies.

“Do you, now?” Eddie still looks like he isn’t quite sure whether to laugh or to eat Steve alive, but Steve only nods.

“She doesn’t mind if I have the occasional man around, and in return, I don’t mind if she has the occasional lady,” he explains softly. “And we keep each other safe.”

At that, Eddie’s grin softens, becomes warm, almost fond. “And who’s keeping you safe now? Inviting a complete stranger up into your bed." He shakes his head, still trying to tease. “I could be anybody. I could be a murderer, for all you know.”

“You aren’t,” Steve answers with full conviction.

The sincerity seems to give Eddie pause. “What makes you so sure?” he asks, and now he seems almost serious.

“Your eyes,” Steve says readily. “They’re too kind for you to be any kind of bad person.”

Those eyes go wide with surprise. “Well,” Eddie says slowly, “you’re one of the few people who thinks that.”

“Well, maybe other people need to pay more attention,” Steve says. “But if I’m wrong, and you do kill me, at least the last thing I see will be something beautiful.”

And that seems to do it. Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve, his lips chapped and warm against Steve’s.

“You might be the killer here, actually,” Eddie murmurs when they pull apart. “You’re gonna knock me dead with those lines, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. Steve likes that.

“Better come upstairs with me and give me something else to think about, then,” Steve says, and Eddie doesn’t need to be told again.

The snow continues through the night and into the next day. Steve and Eddie go out first thing to check the animals, to make sure everything is holding against the wind and the snow, and then head back to bed, where they spend the remainder of the day. It seems unkind to send Eddie away in this weather, after all.

In fact, it’s still so cold by the time Robin comes back from her visit that Steve hasn’t yet had the heart to send Eddie away. And if he and Robin talk it over, and if Eddie is still around by the time the warm spring weather comes, and if Eddie just stays and stays, the only thing people in town ever really wonder about is how the Harringtons found the money to hire a hand for their tiny piece of land.

[thelarriefics]

FAMOUS/FAMOUS FIC REC, Part II: Below you'll find more fics where both Harry and Louis are famous. (Part I)

📖 Darling, so it goes by @disgruntledkittenface (195k)

Harry Styles is a world-famous actor at the height of his career but a personal low point when he meets His Serene Highness Prince Louis of Monaco by chance. He doesn’t think they’ll ever see each other again, but after striking up a correspondence, it turns out they have more in common than he thought. Then they start to fall for each other. Louis is different from anyone Harry has dated before and their relationship moves fast as Harry realizes he’s ready for a change. Soon Harry finds himself adapting to an entirely new life, in a country where he doesn’t know the rules, the customs, even the language. Harry is used to people underestimating him, and he’s more determined than ever to prove them wrong. He just needs Louis to meet him halfway. Grace Kelly AU.

📖 Glass Closets and Greenhouses by @tiredtiredtz (60k)

Charlton Athletic defender Louis Tomlinson and worldwide sex symbol Harry Styles are rumoured to be hooking up after a viral video filmed at Harry’s Wembley show was posted online by Tommo’s twin sisters. Sources close to the pair tell us the couple have been dating for a while, with rumours of house hunting, marriage and even kids on the cards! Styles, 29, is as well known for his whirlwind love life as his chart topping music. Most recently linked to British fashion designer Alex Millet-Sloan, Harry has stayed tight-lipped on rumours of any romantic rendezvous between himself and footballer Tomlinson, 31, yet fans online are convinced that all evidence points to #Tomlinstyles being the real deal.

📖 Take on Me by @haztobegood (60k)

Actor Harry Styles is preparing for his next leading role as Antonius the Gladiator with the help of Louis Tomlinson, Hollywood’s top stunt coordinator. When the demands of Harry’s career get in the way of their training, the pair head to a secluded cabin to complete their training. Then, Louis begins to share senses with Harry. What is causing this mysterious connection and can Louis and Harry figure out how to stop it before they leave the cabin?

📖 We Are World Class by @bluegreen28fics (50k)

In the midst of Louis' divorce, Harry and Louis have to keep their relationship a secret. When Harry falls pregnant, they find that this is not as easy as one might think. or, the footballer!Louis & actor!Harry AU where everyone is way too interested in their sex life.

📖 My Hands at Risk, I Fold by @yourgorgeouscolors28 (43k)

"Sometimes, when Louis first wakes up, he thinks he’s back in the hospital, and panic hits him." Or, Harry is a famous popstar, Louis is a famous football player and one injury changes everything.

📖 I Do by @brightgolden (40k)

After moving to Los Angeles when he was just eighteen years old with the hope to be a household name in Hollywood, Harry Styles finally earns himself an Oscar several years down the road. But his new found fame is rattled when he bumps into a certain Louis Tomlinson backstage after four long years. It doesn’t take beyond one coincidence for his past to catch up to him and Harry finds himself tirelessly trying to replace what he had lost.

📖 Rooms on Fire by @softfonds (34k)

Ten years ago, Louis helping Harry through a heat was the start of a romance that ended in heartbreak. Now, Harry's marriage is over thanks to his husband's very public infidelity, and Louis is fresh off a Golden Globe win. The last thing they both expect is to be cast in the same movie.

📖 Give It To Someone Special by @elsi-bee (34k)

At the behest of his agent, former child actor Louis Tomlinson signs on to star in the HeartStamp channel’s first Christmas movie featuring a same-sex love story. It may be cheesy, but at least it’s a path to get back into the industry. Now if only his co-star would stop being so critical, and confusing, and overwhelmingly distracting.

📖 My Kind of Rain by @lululawrence (30k)

Tim McGraw/Faith Hill AU where Louis is Tim, Harry is Faith, and just when Louis thinks he is going to get some rest, his entire world turns upside down thanks to the man with curly hair and the voice that seems to sing right to Louis' heart.

📖 Flowers for your crown by @dreaminrainbows (14k)

Harry has a little secret that is not really a secret and Louis is oblivious.

📖 The way you move for me baby (lights me up like nobody else) by @thechavier (12k)

"You know I wrote a song back in the day called little black dress?" He didn't imagine the little spark in his eyes, nor the pleased smirk on his lips, nor the tongue peeking out to wet them. "Why do you think I chose it for tonight?"

📖 Maybe I Miss You by @chaotic-bells (3k)

Zayn does not cope well with losing Louis' friendship.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Bad For Business: Level Eight

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.6k] An enemies to lovers au. Arcade coworkers, who love to hate each other, get too competitive about Dig Dug and share a mutual annoyance for the kids that like to pester them. Choose your own adventure by picking an option at the end of the chapter.

The storm was unexpected and not forecasted, a monsoon rolling through a July afternoon that went almost unnoticed inside of the arcade. The windowless building didn’t show signs of the rain, nor the dark skies, but by the time the last of the kids left, the rush of a downpour and the rumble of thunder could be heard from the open door. 

And once you’d cashed up and pulled your bag from your locker, you let your workmates out the door before you locked it behind you, hearing their goodbyes yelled over the din of the rain as they ran through puddles to their cars, their parents' minivans. 

Your bike was chained to a railing ten feet away, away from the shelter of the door awning, placed perfectly in the middle of a puddle that was growing into a small lake. You squinted into the gloom, splatters of rain water sticking to your skin, already humid and sticky from the lingering heat. 

Then a car pulled up in front of you, a maroon BMW with shiny alloys and a pretty boy behind the wheel, one you hadn’t seen all week after you’d kissed him stupid in the photo booth. The window rolled down and Steve appeared more clearly, shirt dotted with rain, hair messy from the wind. He was looking at you carefully, maybe warily, maybe nervously. 

But then he nodded to the empty passenger seat. “Get in.”

You didn’t hesitate, not the way you would’ve done weeks ago, chin tilted high and haughty, ready to tell Steve Harrington you’d rather swim home than accept a ride from him. But Chrissy had come back from being off sick and Murray had switched up the schedule. You hadn’t seen Steve in a while, not since the kiss, not since he’d had his hand tucked under your knee and hitched your thigh to his hips. 

Not since his tongue had been against yours. 

Not since he’d whispered your name, a gasping, rough sound that you didn’t think Steve knew he made. 

Not since you discovered that you made Steve Harrington hard.  

Not since you realised you wanted to do it again and again and—

You got in the car. 

The inside of the BMW smelled like Steve, like cedar wood cologne and mint gum, like expensive leather and the half full coffee in the cup holder. You were almost soaked through from the dash across the sidewalk, shirt wrinkled to your body, unnecessary sunscreen and rain water sticking to your skin. 

The radio was low, a murmur, the sound of the rain on the roof louder than anything. Steve nodded at you when you finally looked at him and then he shifted gear, pulling away from the arcade and into the storm. 

Steve drove you through town without much talking, his fingers twisting the controls on the radio, the sounds of Tears For Fears mixing with the rain on the windshield, the hum of the aircon. You didn’t have to tell Steve where to go, you didn’t have to tell him your address. He drove through the streets, kicking up water as he went, heading towards the familiar row of houses not too far from his own. And just before he turned into the lane, you swallowed hard, not wanting to leave just yet. There were things to say, you were sure of it. You just didn’t know what.    

But Steve beat you to it, pulling over in a corner shaded by tall oak trees, at the edge of the sidewalk where the road met a park that was only used for teenage make-outs and underage drinking. It was quiet, empty, and you changed a look at the boy when he killed the engine and the music. 

Steve looked different away from the neon lights and despite the storm, it still felt too quiet without the sounds of the arcade. It was too loud without the alarms, the jingles. Too bright despite the grey.  It was overwhelming. 

“Steve, about last week— what happened, I—”

The boy interrupted you before you could go on, a hand that paused as it made its way to reach over to you, hovering over your thigh, like he decided it wasn’t a good idea. Until he did, Steve’s fingers curling around the skin above your knee and your gaze found his, lips parted in surprise and you watched him think - just for a second - before the words were tumbling from his mouth with anymore hesitation. 

“I’ve not stopped thinking about it,” Steve murmured, sounding a little dazed, quiet under the blanket of rain, the sky through the windshield a hazy lilac-grey and god, the world felt fuzzy, it felt soft. “Like, at all. Fuck, I don’t know, I just— I just.” Steve licked his lips, letting his gaze drop to yours. “Wanna do it again.”

The air seemed to disappear from the car. You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. 

“If you’ll let me,” Steve finished, nervous and quiet and unlike you’d seen him before, his eyes unsure as he made his way back to his own seat, his hand retreating from your leg. 

You didn’t let him get far, your hand wrapping around his wrist to keep him close, leaning forward in your chair to meet him over the console, noses almost brushing. You shared the same shaky breath and outside, the rain fell harder. 

“We don’t like each other,” you tried to remind him, but the words came out unsure, like you couldn’t remember yourself. “We’re not— we’re not friends. We don’t—”

Steve shrugged, a clumsy thing that you barely saw because he was so close. His hand that you kept on your thigh tightened, a needy grasp that you encouraged by smoothing your palm up his forearm, upupup until you were holding onto his shoulder and fisting his rain speckled shirt in your fingers. 

“You’re right, we don’t,” Steve agreed and his voice was lower than before, more sure and back to sounding a little cocky now that you were holding him with the same kind of want that he held you with. “I totally hate you.”

You wondered if Steve believed his own words in that moment, because with the way he was staring at your mouth, you sure as fuck didn’t. 

You didn’t seem to care though. 

“Right,” you nodded anyway. “You’re so annoying.” Your nose bumped against his, lips hovering. Waiting. Wanting. Eyes barely open. 

The rain got louder, fuzzier, a white noise roar that seemed to match your heartbeat. 

“Yeah, you’re a real pain in my ass, princess. Can I kiss you?”

Steve was on you before you finished nodding, a pleased hum coming from the back of your throat as he closed the gap, his hand flying up to grasp the back of your neck, like he wanted to be in control, like he wanted to savour it. 

It felt less like an argument this time, this kiss. Steve’s mouth swept over yours lazily, languidly, a melting popsicle on a summer day, cherry flavoured and coloured red like sin. It was chaste for a while, innocent enough for two people parked curbside just before a residential street. But the rain had kept everyone indoors, it had washed away the sidewalk chalk, the hopscotch lines and the love hearts.   

Instead, it left inky shadows to hide in, navy and lavender light, heavy rain. Enough noise to disguise your moans with, a substitute for the arcade sounds but this felt better, this felt closer. Warmer. Hotter. 

Then Steve’s tongue licked over your bottom lip as his thumb grazed the corner of it, an impatient tug that was supposed to be a question. You answered it by parting your lips for him, tongue meeting his, his groan mixing with your sigh. And too soon, he was pulling away, rosy cheeks and glassy eyed, watching you with the most curious expression - like he couldn’t work you out. 

And then: “C’mere.”

Steve moved his chair back, cranking the lever until the seat rolled away from the steering wheel. There was enough room there for you to crawl into his lap, to straddle him and get closer than before. So you did exactly that, a little clumsy and a little eager as you scrambled over the console, Steve’s hand catching your elbow to help you, even with a smirk on his face. 

“Thought you didn’t like me?” He reminded you through your willingness to throw your leg over his thighs, grinning when you scowled. Steve’s hands found your hips, warm and wide, gripping tight as you lowered yourself over him. “Or does that not matter now that you’re—”

“Steve? Shut up,” you muttered huffily, happy to have worn a skirt as you settled yourself against him, chest to chest, your hands diving into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

You rocked your hips, getting comfy, squirming a little in Steve’s lap and you made a little noise as you did so, the denim and the half hard length of the boy catching against your cotton underwear nicely. 

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, voice suddenly breathy, the teasing knocked out of him now that you were on top. “Right, yeah, totally shutting up.”

It was easier to press your lips back to his, the neediness mounting, a new kind of want that clawed at your insides and suddenly you didn’t hate the boy at all. In fact, you really liked the way his hands dropped for your hips to hold at your spread thighs, knuckles teasing the edge of your skirt, thumbs rubbing circles the inside of your legs. 

You really liked the way he sighed all deep when your tongue licked over his, how his nose pressed harder against your cheek, like he couldn’t get close enough. You really liked the way he kissed you with a confidence that came from knowing how handsome he was, from knowing how a girl liked to be touched. 

But you loved it when his mouth hung open when you shoved him back into the seat, a hand to his chest, your own heaving. “Slower,” you told him, whispering, following him back into the chair, where you kept him pressed against the leather. Your mouth was a ghost against his, your bottom lip catching the arc of his cupid's bow, his kiss pink and pouty for you. “Softer.”

Steve did as he was told, hands roaming the expanse of skin under your shirt, fingers trailing up and down your spine as he kissed you like he had all day, all night. A teasing push and pull of his mouth against your own, teeth catching your lip, tongue sliding over your own until you were squirming. 

“Yeah?” He asked, lips glossy from you, eyes dreamy. 

You nodded, clutching at him, fingers twisting in his hair. “Yeah.”

You didn’t realise you were rocking yourself over Steve until he swore, hands holding you and pushing you down against his hard cock, tight and trapped under his jeans. It was a heady experience, the drag of denim against your underwear, cotton soft and almost soaked through the more Steve kissed you. You felt drunk, the roar of the rain a staticy sound in your ears but Steve’s moans were louder, more important. 

He sounded so pretty. He looked even prettier. 

So you rested your forehead against his, lips open in a gasp, hips rocking a little faster, a dirty grind that made you feel filthy. Anyone could walk by. Anyone could see. 

“M’gonna come like this,” you whispered, only a little embarrassed at your admission. You felt flushed, too warm, the summer air heavy in the car with the aircon off. “Shit, Steve.”

“Christ,” the boy groaned, voice sounding wrecked. “You can’t say shit like that, fucking hell.”

You only whined in response, catching him again for a kiss that turned messy, desperate as you both chased something you didn’t know you’d wanted. Your hands were on Steve’s jaw, titling his head back to kiss him a little deeper as he encouraged you to grind down on him. 

He tore away from you when you moaned louder than ever, squirming against his cock through his jeans, letting out a hiccuping sound when the zipper caught against your clit. His lips were on your cheek, the line of your jaw, down your neck. 

“Oh my god.”

“Shit, princess, are you gonna come?” He growled when you nodded, your cheek pressed to his. “God, that’s so fucking hot, you’re just— fuck.”

Steve hoisted you away from him, from where you’d pressed yourself against his chest. He coaxed you up, holding onto you with one hand on your thigh, just under your skirt, the other on your waist. He was still guiding you, hips canting up now to help you both gain more friction. You were desperate for another kiss, to feel the dirty flick of Steve’s tongue over yours but Steve tutted as you tried to move back, his hands keeping you where he wanted you. 

“Nuhuh,” he murmured, “wanna watch.”

“Oh, shit,” you whined, clutching at the front of his shirt, pulling up the cotton until more skin was revealed, tanned and freckled, a dusting of hair leading down into his jeans. You curled your fingers there instead, holding onto his belt. “Steve, m’close.”

The boy nodded, frantic, suddenly intent on seeing you fall apart, just for him. “I know, I know, keep goin’ for me.” His thumbs dug into your hip bones, pushing and pulling you over his cock, his own breath hitching at the sight of you throwing your head back, eyes fluttering shut, your hold on him tightening. “Fucking hell, you’re so pretty. You look so good.”

It was an easy climb, when he spoke like that. It was a sudden fall when he whispered to you next:

“Can you come like this? Rubbing yourself on my cock? Christ, you’re gonna, aren’t you, princess?”

You came with your lips pressed back to Steve’s, clawing at his shoulders as you whined into his open mouth, his own groan falling onto your tongue, his hands pressing hard into your sides as he jerked underneath you, hips rolling. Steve flushed as he came, cheeks reddening, eyes turning glassy as he watched you and you watched him. 

Neither of you moved, not yet, not as quickly as you thought you would’ve. Instead, you leaned into him, body slack and warm, skin slick with rain and exertion, your chest heaving against Steve’s. Maybe you imagined the kiss Steve pressed to your shoulder before you sat up, the fleeting warmth of his lips on your skin, the soft hum that came from him as he did. 

There wasn’t any embarrassment as you stared at each other, your legs still splayed over his, the crotch of his jeans starting to darken in one spot, a mix of yours and his accomplishments. If you felt proud at the sight, you tried not to show it. So you both caught your breaths and Steve rubbed a thumb over your knee, wincing when you left him to crawl back to the passenger seat.  

You didn’t kiss him goodbye before you left, and Steve didn’t offer any other sweetness when your fingers curled around the door handle, but you did leave him with one parting gift. 

“I don’t really hate you,” you told him, suddenly shy despite the marks he’d left on your neck, the mess you’d left his hair. “Not really.”

Steve grinned, a proper, beaming thing before he caught himself and tried to smooth out his expression. He cleared his throat, nodding as he started the engine and gave you one last look. “Yeah. Not really.” 

You hadn’t even noticed the rain had stopped.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

By His Command 1

Summary: you arrive at your new household to serve. (Handmaid AU)

Warning: this series will contain violence, dystopian aspects, rape and noncon, blood, coercion, possible pregnancy and other dark elements. Please read these warnings and beware.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Note: you're screaming at me, why are you starting another AU and I got my fingers in my ears like na nana boo noo.

Oh and there may be more commanders to come...

Anyway, thoughts and prayers welcome for my lost soul. Also feedback and comments if you dont mind. Maybe a reblog. 💕💕💕💕

You watch the cloud of your breath in the cold air. The grey sky stretches endlessly on, as flat as anything else in this pallid world. A white blur trims the edge of your vision, that every present brim, a facsimile of a halo. You are not a fallen angel but a disgraced sinner, sentenced to penance, fated to serve another's salvation.

You clasp your hands together, red gloves chafing roughly, wool scratching your raw skin. You look down at the scarlet ripples, the endless crimson that marks you for exactly what you are. You pull at a stray thread and let it fall away.

You raise your head and stare at the opaque screen that separates you from the man in black. The guardian drives on across the fields paled by an early frost, dried grasses wilted beneath the premature winter. You take another frigid breath and lean forward, hovering your hand before the small vent in the door. Nothing.

You sit back. You know better than to complain. There is no one for you to complain to. No one who cares. You are not a person with feelings and thoughts. You are a vessel, to be filled and emptied over and over. You repress a shudder and keep your welling eyes aimed out the tinted window.

You dip your head and hide beneath the broad brim of your white bonnet. You clutch your hands tight and wade through the mounting panic in your chest. The women who left the centre didn't often come back, and when they did, it was never pleasant. Still, you would give anything to go back. There you know what the worst and the best is.

You don't know much of what awaits you, only that it floods you with dread. A commander and his wife, but what else? Will he be cruel? Will she hate you? Will you be able to do what you were trained to?

You part your hands and bring them up your arms, hugging yourself. You can't remember the last time anyone held you. The last time anyone dared touch you. Even when you laid screaming before the other handmaids, hands bloody, back welted, no one dared come near you, no one thought to comfort you.

The SUV turns and you force your eyelids apart. You sniffle and wipe your nose with the coarse wool glove. There is a low stone fence that trails the long winding road towards a tall gate. The tires slow as your heart piques and you choke on terror.

At a halt, you hear the man's voice in the front seat, through the barrier that divides you. For order, for chasteness, for your debasement. You are not worthy. You are emblazoned as a blasphemer.

The car rolls on, jerking you back against the seat. A slow draw that brings into view shedding hedges, stone benches, a fountain, a lawn that expands before you. You watch the birds flutter, marveling at their peace, and a leaf drifts down in a calm path to the ground. A serenity that so starkly counterbalances the chaos blooming in your chest.

You veer around the curved arm of the driveway and once more stop. The engine rolls over and quiets. The front door opens and you flinch. Steps tramp and come around, a shadow awaiting you on the otherside as the locks slide back.

The guardian opens the door and you grab the red valise on your feet. You turn your legs over the side of the seat and step out, heels clacking off the hard stone. The man steps back, gripping the strap of his gun.

"Go," he nods his chin in the direction of the house.

You look over at the grand facades, stone and mortar in a centurion style, rooves high and looming, a balcony with a naked trellis below. You gulp and march forward, grasping the round handle of your bag with both hands. The man trails you, keeping you on course as his steps echo your own.

You get to the first step and raise your foot, setting in on the stope edge. The front door opens and steals your attention from the hem of your skirt. You look up as a Martha emerges in her green smock and apron. Her faces is blotchy and her grimace is deepset.

"Come, OfLloyd," she beckons you with a curt wave, "we must prepare for the Commander's return."

[wolfstarshipping]

June Masterlist (Wolfstar Fic Recs)

Here's another wolfstar fic rec list! I missed 2 days of the daily fic recs in June, but I decided to just include 2 other fic recs in this list as compensation, because 30 fic recs is a much nicer number than 28. Again, these are mostly different kinds of AUs, with a few angsty non-AU fics strewn in!

1. Marauder FM by hollyivydruzy (12.809 words/current WIP, radio AU, muggle AU)

2. The Lab by de_sire (de-sire-blog) (95.450 words, university/scientist AU, muggle AU)

3. sucker punch by moonnixie (5681 words, post Azkaban)

4. lessen my load by moonymoment (73.424 words, university AU, muggle AU)

5. Ullswater by eyra (30.973 words, university AU, musician AU, muggle AU)

6. saccharine by moonymoment (26.447 words, ghost AU, modern AU)

7. Fire Escape by longlostweasley (9418 words, high school AU, muggle AU)

8. The Road Not Taken by mollymarymarie (88.278 words, popstar AU, modern AU, muggle AU)

9. Neither Hide nor Hair by puuvillaa (28.117 words, wizard AU: no Voldemort)

10. everybody else looks like they’ve figured it out by spellingmynamewrong (15.015 words, university AU, muggle AU)

11. Everything's Connected by mizdiz (44.297 words, boarding school AU, magical realism)

12. A Cure For Nightmares [+podfic] by picascribit (36.083 words, boarding school AU, muggle AU)

13. Signs of Affection by KittyCargo (8258 words, modern AU, muggle AU, sign language)

14. I need you (Like I need to breathe) by bookish_changeling (16.745 words, first war AU)

15. Everything is right by de-sire (10.875 words, marauders era, hogwarts)

16. Learning (Dis)Abilities by MakkAttackk (15.824 words, marauders era AU, hogwarts)

17. Dear Your Holiness by mollymarymarie (142.264 words, priest AU, band AU, modern AU, muggle AU)

18. they're just pretty words, my dear by lowhangingfru1t (31.444 words, high school AU, muggle AU)

19. losing my mind, thinking about you by drowsyanddazed (16.265 words, first war, flatmates)

20. Step & Repeat by theresthesnitch (62.744 words, modern AU, celebrity AU, muggle AU, fake dating)

21. (everybody here was) someone else before by mcdynamite (13.163 words, modern AU)

22. It Can't Be Helped by moongnome (9752 words, marauders era, post-prank, hogwarts)

23. It's cold outside by Remustrash (1788 words, post hogwarts, bed sharing)

24. Led by Light of a Star Sweetly Gleaming by wolfpants (53.025 words, 1960s AU, muggle AU)

25. My Dearest Moony [+podfic] by picascribit (581 words, epistolary, post OotP)

26. I'll Be Yours In a Landslide by MoonCat457 (mooncat457writing) (8464 words, Lie Low at Lupin's)

27. Modern Love by enigmaticfish (40.354 words, muggle AU, modern AU, student AU, flatmates)

28. Terms and Conditions by mblematic (6852 words, post hogwarts, flatmates)

29. The Things We'd Do For A Coffee Maker by AllThisAndLoveTooWillRuinUs (6805 words, muggle AU, fake dating)

30. Honey If I'm Not and If You're Gonna by BrigidFaye (75.771 words, wizard AU, post first war)

[luveline]

If you’re taking requests can I request a Drabble on kbd au or zombie au? Nothing specific I’d read anything you wrote about either!!

for you my love, ty for requesting <3 steve zombie au! you and Steve get back to basics and go on a duo supply run together, and afterwards he’s tired in more way than one </3 fem!reader, 3k. TW for zombie apocalypse typical violence and gore

Steve caves the geek’s skull in with one well-timed thwack.

You don't cheer, this is grim work, but you smile at him as he rubs the wet spray of blood from his shaven cheek. Things are finally getting better —you found a bunch of necessities at a mom and pop soap store a few days ago, so Steve has been able to clean up, and you've managed to wash the ten layers of grease from your face. You feel good. 

"Good job," you say, speaking in a hush. 

Steve hasn't been very happy lately, and you don't like making it worse. Which isn't to say you're on eggshells or anything, but keeping a low profile ensures better chances of survival, and better chances of survival cheer him up. 

He smiles back, and it's a total victory. The happiest he's looked in days, Steve wipes his baseball bat against the side of a vinyl seat with a pleased air about him. Best zombie killer ever. 

You've shouldered your way into a traditional American diner. The interior is basically untouched, which is extremely exciting, as the prospects of finding food and batteries is high. The floor is thick tile, the tables between booths solid pine. It's an expensive looking establishment. The padlock on the front and back doors makes more sense now. 

"Am I staying here?" you ask.

Steve squeezes your hand very gently. They're still tender from your infamous crawl across broken glass, and he can't stand hurting you. 

"You're coming with me. Back to back, don't speak, we'll clear the room and open the kitchen door," he says quietly. 

The kitchen door, which is ominously closed behind the serving counter. 

You nod and give him a sticky sweet smile, hoping it says how much you like him. Love him. He looks around the diner quickly and then leans in to kiss your cheek. He doesn't believe in affection on the road because it distracts the both of you. False sense of security. 

"Ready?" he asks. 

You turn on the spot with your back to him. You'd think it was overkill to be so cautious if you hadn't done it a hundred times before, admittedly a long time ago, barely knowing one another as you scrounged from state to state. His shoulders are broad and solid against yours, and you trust him not to let you get hurt as you walk backwards into the room. He checks under every table and behind each of the rooms wrap around corners. 

"Good?" you ask. 

"Perfect. Alright, you can sit down if you want to." 

"Are you joking?" you ask, following him to the counter. He pulls up the hinged counter and holds it up for you to sidle past him, your hips rubbing. "'Scuse me." 

He laughs under his breath. You'd miss it if you didn't know how it sounds, a gentle puff of air. 

"Knife?" he asks. 

"Yep." 

Steve kicks the door open with his foot. It's on a swivel, and he has to hold it open, bat extended, ready for a danger that doesn't present itself. He hits his bat against the door a few times to see if the noise will attract anything, but the building is officially empty of geeks. 

Then, proof that it's your Steve, boyfriend Steve, the Steve who's kissed tears off of your cheeks, Steve who whispers gossip under the covers like you're teenagers at a slumber party, he turns from the swinging kitchen door and grabs you by the waist. 

"Good work, team," he says, hugging you so hard your heels lift off of the tiled floor. 

You let yourself squeak. "Hoh, you're getting strong again, H, might wanna lay off of the canned ravioli." 

"No, I need to be tough to keep all the bachelors off of my girl." 

Bachelors is the name he's started giving to geeks, on account of the tuxedo wearing one you encountered a few days ago. "What's that eligible bachelor doing?" he'd asked. You'd laughed loudly (potentially giving away your location to unfriendlies) and he'd been moody for an hour afterwards, though he did tell you, "Sorry, it's my bad for making a joke, I'm not mad at you." 

He's like two people, sometimes. The Steve who got comfortable at The College, carefree and sweet, and the Steve who had to look after the two of you for months all by himself. And that's not fair to you to state it like that, you definitely weren't helpless, but you didn't have the survival skills he did. He could fight, for one, and he knew how to use a map, he had better stamina from years of sports and competitive track and swimming, while you were a slightly slovenly creature who'd never hurt anyone. You had no idea how to cave in a skull, and what's more, you didn't have the will. 

He can't decide whether he needs to be on full alert or not. 

It's hard to know what to say to him. He needs a life worth living, one where he isn't constantly anxious, but he won't have any life at all if he lets it too loose. You just want him to be happy. 

"Steve?" 

"What?" 

"Did you have a favourite song?" 

He's surprised. "Like, before?" 

"Yeah." You step out of his space. He turns his head to keep eye contact with you but walks into the kitchen, bat still in front of him so he'll feel it if he's approached. "You liked Wham, right?" 

"What gives you that idea?" 

"You look like you liked Wham." 

"Well, I didn't. I liked Blondie, and Bob Dylan, and Fleetwood Mac–" 

"I thought you hate Blondie?" you ask. 

"Who told you that, Robin?"  

"Who else?" 

The kitchen is dimly lit, not a whole lot of sunlight filtering through. You scrounge in your pockets for your tiny hand-pump flashlight and start squeezing it. The sound goes through Steve, but he likes being able to see. You point the light, he opens cabinet doors. The first is empty, weirdly. The second is full of plates, the third more plates, the fourth cups and a spider big enough to make you both flinch. 

"I kind of liked Wham," he admits eventually. "That Wake Me Up song was catchy." 

"Yeah?" You hum the first line, not quite singing. "Does anyone know the words after that?" 

"Nope. Just do that bit again." 

You do as he asks. He grins at you, and it feels like a prize. 

The cabinets reveal nothing edible. 

"Is there a pantry?" you ask, turning in a circle. 

"If there is, you won't be going in there," he says. 

One time he told you to look inside a walk-in freezer and you almost died. Disaster. 

"That's fine by me," you say, running your finger across the top of an old sterling grill. There's grease stains in circles, like somebody could've made a burger on it yesterday. Artefacts of the past. 

"Here," Steve says, kicking the bottom of a second door. "Pantry." He knocks against it with the baseball bat a few times and you both wait for something to stir. 

Miraculously, nothing does. 

He tries to pull it open but you're distracted, he has something in his hair. You lean up on your toes and turn his head down. 

"What are you doing?" 

"You have a leaf in your hair." You rake the leaf out of his hair. 

It's like the fluff of downy feather, soft from a good scrub last night. Shampoo hardly ever spoils, and you can find it everywhere, in every house and every store. You get distracted, leaf discarded, and comb your fingers through his hair. It's mostly a selfish action, but you hope he feels loved. 

"I know you got it out by now." 

"It's soft…" You stroke his hair back out of his face. "Okay, done." 

"Thanks," he says gently. 

Steve guides you back with an arm and pulls open the pantry door. A bad smell comes with it, not the stink of festering garbage but the smell after, when every bit of freshness has been eaten. It's like methane. You frown and peer over Steve's shoulder at the state of the room. The majority of perishables are perished, boxes of what must've been lettuce and tomatoes crushed and dried like they'd been soggy at one point, a brown stain over the bottom. There are dead flies on every shelf. 

But after some searching, you and Steve find what you'd been hoping to find; powdered eggs, canned corn, canned artichoke, condensed milk, a treasure of ingredients. It's enough to keep you both fed for a while, but when you take it back to the makeshift camp where you're staying it'll be split up between more than forty people —you and Steve have bought the camp a day. 

You're happy to have found the food you needed but the situation still feels of questionable stability. 

Steve heads back to the front of the diner for the wheelbarrow you'd brought along. This is the sticky part, because the world isn't as uninhabited as it looks, and the trek home will be one you spend weaving behind buildings and into alleyways, out of sight from the many tall buildings of the city you've encroached upon. 

You load the cans into the wheelbarrow and look for can openers, knives, and batteries. You find the can openers and knives easily, but the battery front is lacklustre. You suppose there's no use for anything battery powered in a restaurant like this. 

"This wouldn't be such a bad place to stay if the windows were so big. We could sleep on the booth seats, maybe trick the generator out back and turn on the grill." 

Steve wipes his forehead and stations the wheelbarrow at the front entrance. "If the gas line worked. Why, what do you want grilled?" 

"We could have grilled catfish," you suggest. 

"Where are you gonna catch a catfish?" 

"In the river." 

"The only thing in that river is frogs and carp, babe." 

"You don't mind carp." 

"But you don't like frogs," he says, "stupid river." Steve looks back at the wheelbarrow of cans. "Alright, pick one." 

"Steve, I can't." 

"Yeah, you can. We risked our lives coming out here, so you get to choose something, and you get to eat it." Steve tries to sound light and unbothered by it, but the guilt that plagues you at the idea of eating something without sharing infects him too, even if he tries to bite it back. "Please. Everyone else doing these runs does the same thing, and Joyce knows that." 

"But you don't want to," you say. 

"I want you fed." 

"And I want you to be able to live with yourself. I do think we deserve it," you admit. "Especially you. But I know you feel bad, thinking about the kids. We're sharers, Steve." 

"We're sharers," he agrees, giving the wheelbarrow a nudge with his knee. "Too bad. I could eat that condensed milk with a spoon." 

"Me too." 

It doesn't take long to get back to the camp. It's stressful but uneventful, and soon you can hear the hushed whispering of the kids old enough to know they need to be quiet and the louder bells of kids too little to get it. 

Robin bounds up from the ring around the smouldering fire and hugs you, then Steve. Jeremy, co-leader of the old community and second in command of the new, immediately delegates someone to note down what you've found and start rationing the evening meal. 

"Are you okay?" Steve asks Robin, hands on her shoulders. He ignores the Well done thrown his way. 

"I'm fine. You guys good?" she asks, scanning your two bodies. 

You move from foot to foot on the packed earth and stone beneath. You're sore all over, and walking makes you tired. "We're perfect. I'm gonna go lie down." 

"We'll come with you," Robin says. 

Steve quickly seconds her suggestion. You move through the pitched tents until you come across the one shared by the three of you. On the floor is the only thing you had left, a single blanket you'd found in the woodland surrounding The College. It's rumpled and dirty, because your tent isn't a tent but a tarp on stilts, and the floor is grass and earth. 

You duck your head and sit in the corner, pulling your shoes off of your hot feet and massaging your hurting toes. Your shoes don't fit. They're not really your shoes. 

Steve comes in second and Robin third. There isn't enough room for all of you but you've made it work every night since you got here. 

Steve grabs one of your ankles and pulls you with force toward him. You laugh weirdly —it's a great laugh, stuck in your throat, happy that he's touching you and exhausted from a long day— and end up flat on your back in your coat and stiff jeans. Steve takes off his coat and jacket, balling the jacket up into a vaguely pillow shaped blob to put under your head. 

You grab his hand and squeeze it in a silent thank you.

Robin lies down beside you. She puts her head on your arm. 

"I want to come next time," she says. 

"Okay." 

"I don't like being here without you guys." 

"Okay, then you'll come," Steve says. "Did something happen?" 

"It's just not worth it, even if I'm tired, you guys being gone is exhausting 'cos I'm constantly worrying you've–" She shrugs. "It wasn't as scary when you had guns and an entourage, but now the only thing between you guys and me never seeing you again is a baseball bat." 

"A metal baseball bat." 

"Whatever." 

"You should come just so you see how not dangerous it is," you say. 

"That's not true," Steve says. 

"Was he being overprotective?" Robin asks you. 

"Yes. He yelled at me for coughing at the top of the hill and he got all broody when we couldn't cut the padlock off with the bolt cutters for like, half an hour." 

Steve pushes your pant leg up and starts to massage your calf. There's nothing but love in his touch, and you take it as an apology for his moody behaviour, even though it doesn't have to be one. He shouldn't say sorry for responding to insane pressure with unhappy emotions. He should, however, keep massaging you. It feels nice. 

"Did he actually yell?" Robin asks, laughing. 

"I'm still here," Steve reminds you both. 

"Nah, just said, 'cover your mouth, dummy, these trees are full of geeks,'" you tell her. 

"Did you really say that? The trees are full of geeks?" Robin asks, giggling still. 

You laugh with her. Steve gets a funny look on his face, happy and sad for a split second. It disappears, and you know from the slope of his brows that he's going to make a bad joke. 

"I didn't. I said the trees were full of bachelors," Steve says. "And that if they heard her pretty, dainty coughing they'd steal her away from me. She'd be a zombie bride." 

"Can a cough be dainty?" Robin asks. 

"You tell me," Steve says. "It sounded like this." He hacks like an old man, hunched over your feet in his lap. 

You and Robin both boo. 

"You don't think I have a nice cough?" he asks. "Come on." 

Robin hides her face in your arm. "I've been away from society for so long that I'm starting to find his half-assed jokes funny." 

You wiggle your feet in his lap. 

"You wish you had my sense of humour," Steve says. 

"Oh, hey, guess what Steve was singing for me earlier," you butt in. "Wham." 

"Really?" 

"Spirit of George Michael fell through him." 

Steve really laughs at that one, clutching your leg to his chest. You smile, startled at his reaction, more when he pushes his hand under your knee and says, "Hey, are you saying I can't sing?" 

"I'm sure I caught you on a bad day," you comfort. 

He laughs more —Steve laughs so hard you think he might cry. It can't be that funny, you know you're not a comedian and never have been. 

Robin picks up on it too. 

He's had a long day, a longer week, and he's taut as a string pulled from one pole of the earth to the other. You sit up despite your protesting back and sling your arm around his shoulders. His laughing calms, and he goes deathly quiet. 

"You wanna get some rest?" you murmur. 

He closes his eyes. "Yeah." 

Robin shuffles up. The three of you lie there for a while, and eventually he falls asleep. You and Robin chat in whispers until she ends up sleeping too. Without the distractions of TV and the radio, you can't blame them. 

You turn away from Robin to stare at Steve as he sleeps, your hand stroking his forehead and his silky soft hairline. 

When he wakes up later, he's feeling better. Things aren’t totally fixed, but he’s well enough to scold you for letting him sleep through the dinner bell.

"You didn't eat dinner?" he asks, somehow croaky and stern at the same time. "What's wrong with you? Get up, honey, we'll find you something to eat. Buckley, are you hungry? You girls will be the death of me, I swear." 

[gamebunny-advance]

1000 Followers Celebration - Six Eight Fanarts

Neon J. (No Straight Roads) - @ocularose

Sheldon (Splatoon 2) - @pelman

Gingerdead Man (Full Moon Universe) - @gingerweed-man

Johnny (Sonic Rush Adventure) - anonymous

Kliff (No Straight Roads) - @teeny-tiny-mousey

Pac-Man (My human?AU) - @ninjastar107

Roba (The Problem Soverz) - @bigfatnerdycrocodile

Dr. Irabu (Welcome to Irabu's Office/Trapeze) - anonymous

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

Thank you to everyone that participated in our final follower's celebration, and thank you to everyone that's followed me up till now~ It's been a wild ride with some highs and lows, but nonetheless it's pretty cool that I've made it this far basically by being cringe~

I hope that y'all consider sticking around to see where we go from here~

(Timelapse)