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stevie-petey · 6 months

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episode one: the vanishing of will byers

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you. “So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?” Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.

summary: jonathan smuggles you free food in exchange for friendship, will goes missing the one time you listen to jonathan, hopper doesn't really like you, and steve harrington almost hits you with his car as you're sobbing like a damn baby (in a cool way).

rating: general, although there's plenty of cursing and slight innuendos, so fair warning.

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

words: 7k

before you swing in: hello ! this is the first chapter of my come home series, where i plan on rewriting the entirety of stranger things because i really love a good rewrite fic and this is me just indulging in my ideal fic fantasies tbh. before we start: this is a steve x reader fic, however there will be some slight feelings between the reader and jonathan because, but it doesn't at all get in the way of steve and honestly just adds to the angst because i love a good tragedy. also, reader is dustin's older sister, but i tried to write her as neutral as possible in terms of physical features, so let's all just play along. that is all ! i'm very excited for this series and i hope y'all enjoy her as much as i do :)

November 6th, 1983

Your shift at Bookstrordinary ends at 8:30 tonight, so as soon as you’ve organized all the books within the store and cashed out the last customer, you say goodnight to your boss, Mrs. Waters, and clock out. Today had been a longer shift, and it didn’t help that you had to deal with a particularly eager bookclub mother who insisted that you had the latest copy of some obscure novel that she needed for her club. After several attempts to inform her that no, you really didn’t have some novel about a cowboy falling in love with a rodeo girl from Michigan, nor would you ever want to read that, the mother angrily walked away.

You’re happy to finally be free from work though, excited to see Jonathan to tell him about the book club mom because you know he gets a kick out of those suburban middle class mothers that terrorize Hawkins. He works across from you, at The Hawk theater, and it’s one of your favorite things about the bookstore. Besides getting to be surrounded by books all day and reading Spider-Man, you get to be across the street from your best friend and share frequent breaks together.

A bell signifies your arrival at the theater, alerting Jonathan to look up from the concession stand and smile at you. He looks tired, which you can understand. It’s been a particularly long school year so far with Jonathan having to work more shifts than usual to support his family.

“Welcome to The Hawk, can I interest you in our specialty popcorn and candy corn mixture?”

You make a face, “No, thanks. Candy corn freaks me out.”

Jonathan laughs, knowing you’d say that. It’s been a running joke between the two of you for as long as you can remember. You’re not picky with most foods, but candy corn? The bane of your existence. “Tough crowd, then.”

You laugh as well, now standing in front of the counter, and you learn against it so that you’re in Jonathan’s space. After being friends for so long, personal space doesn’t exist between the two of you. You’re the only person that Jonathan lets get this close to him on a regular basis, which you’re secretly proud of.

“So, you almost done so we can pick up our idiotic brothers?” Tonight, as usual, Will and Dustin are at Mike’s house playing DnD. They’d biked over as soon as school let out, while Jonathan drove you to work, so he was your ride back for the night.

He shakes his head at you, wincing, “I picked up an extra shift tonight. Stacy called out sick, and it’s good money…”

You nod in understanding. He doesn’t have to explain himself to you, which he’s always relieved by.

“It’s okay. Is my bike still in your trunk?”

“Yeah, I can get it out for you since I’m kind of ditching you tonight.”

You wave him off, already reaching across the counter to grab his keys from his coat pocket. “No need, I’ll get it out myself so you don’t get in trouble with your boss.” Jonathan’s boss is an older guy, extra scary. “I’m assuming that I’m taking Will home tonight?”

“It’ll be late by the time you get the boys, and you’ll have Dustin. We only live a couple blocks apart, you can just bike with Will until you get to your street.”

“Are you sure? I know he’s scared of the dark.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. You’re already doing enough being there for most of the ride; I’m sure Will can survive the last five minutes alone.”

You give Jonathan an unsure look, but you don’t argue with him. He’s his brother, he knows Will’s capabilities, and it’s an unspoken fact that you baby Will a bit too much. He’s just so much tinier than the other boys, softer in a way that you want to protect. He’s special.

Jonathan sneaks you a large peach lemonade and hot dog from the concession stand when you return with his keys. You’ve parked your bike up front, and you accept the food gratefully. You hadn’t had time to eat your usual dinner during your break due to the bookclub mother fiasco, so you inhale the food quickly and give his hair a ruffle.

“You’re a lifesaver, bee.”

Jonathan lightly hits your hand away from his hair. “Consider it your payment for dealing with Will and Dustin on your own tonight, bug.”

Bee and bug were the names the two of you had given each other years ago. Jonathan had started it with bug, stemming from the fact that you love Spider-Man so much, and you had struggled to come up with your own nickname for him. Then it came to you: bee, or B, for Byers. It was perfect, and you’re still incredibly proud of yourself for the creativity, honestly.

After your quick dinner, you say goodbye to your friend and head off. It’s late now, nearing 9, and you hope that Mrs. Wheeler and your own mom won’t be too upset with you for being late for pick up. You know they prefer to have the boys in bed by a decent hour, but in your defense, Jonathan did skip out on you.

You arrive at the Wheeler’s in a short amount of time and knock on the door. Your cheeks are flushed from the early November cold, and you’re regretting that you only put on a thin sweater and jeans this morning.

Mike answers the door, giving you a dirty look. “Did you have to come early?”

“I’m actually later than usual,” you sidestep him, making your way into his house; you’ve become used to Mike’s attitude. “I take it the campaign is still ongoing?”

“See, mom? Even Y/N understands how long a good campaign can go on for!” Mike waves his arms at you, as if to signify to his mother the importance of your understanding.

Mrs. Wheeler ignores her son to greet you kindly, albeit a bit exasperated. “Hello, Y/N, please come in.” Then she turns to Mike, giving him a stern look. “Mike, why don’t you tell Y/N how you boys have been playing for ten hours? I’m sure she’ll be understanding then.”

“You guys have been playing for ten hours?”

Mike looks down in embarrassment for a second before turning to his father for help. You laugh a bit at his enthusiasm and see a faint smile on his mom’s face as well. Quietly you excuse yourself to go downstairs to find the other boys, and Mrs. Wheeler wishes you luck.

Everyone always acts like the boys are some giant pain; truthfully, you enjoy them. Sure, they can be a handful, but they’re just kids; it’s hard for you to ever stay mad at them. Plus they like you, so it makes dealing with them easier.

Lucas, Dustin, and Will are running around the basement when you get down there, frantically searching for something. You hear Lucas inform Will that if Mike doesn’t see something, then it doesn’t count. The urgence in his voice amuses you; you’ll never fully wrap your head around why they take DnD so seriously, but you love that they can enjoy it with each other.

Dustin is the first to see you. “Y/N!”

The other boy’s heads turn to you and they greet you with enthusiasm as well. Will rushes towards you for a hug, which you gladly accept. When you break apart, Lucas gives you a high five and asks about a comic you’ve put on hold for him at the store.

“Any luck?”

“Sorry, Sinclair. It’s still sold out, but the second it’s restocked I’ll smuggle one for you.”

“Sick!”

Dustin walks over, now in his coat and holding a pizza box. “Want a slice?”

You decline, informing him that Jonathan snuck some food for you. At the mention of his brother’s name, Will asks where he is. You tell him that Jonathan had to cover a shift and that you’ll be taking him most of the way home tonight.

As you all make your way upstairs, you notice that Dustin continues up to the second floor. Lucas notices too, and the two of you share a knowing look.

“Still have a crush on Nancy?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yup.” Lucas responds, smiling in disappointment.

You wait for your brother outside, helping Will with his coat and listen to Mike’s rambling about the campaign. Lucas is already on his bike, ready to go.

“There’s something wrong with your sister.” Dustin declares when he finally returns.

Mike looks at you, then at your brother, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“She’s got a stick up her butt.”

“Dustin!” You berate. Nancy isn’t your favorite person, but she’s always been nice to you the few times you’ve interacted. You guys used to be closer when you were younger, but high school has a way of distancing people.

“Yeah,” Lucas now speaks up. “It’s because she’s been dating that douchebag, Steve Harrington.” How the hell does Lucas even know about that? You didn’t even know about that until just now.

“Lucas! Language!”

“Yeah, she’s been turning into a real jerk.”

“Dustin, I swear to God-”

The boys ignore you, which you’re honestly not surprised by. While they may like you, that doesn't mean that they listen to you. On a good day they maybe listen to you 25% of the time, but tonight was clearly not a good night.

Mike finally cuts in, “She’s always been a real jerk.”

“Hey, she’s your sister. Give her some credit-”

Dustin is now the one who cuts you off. “Nuh-uh, only you get the sister leniency, Y/N. Nancy used to be cool, now she isn’t.”

“Remember that time she dressed up as an elf for our Elder tree campaign?” Lucas asks, almost reminiscent.

You shudder at the way he says it, and you shudder more when you see the dreamy look in your brother’s eyes. “Yeah, I remember…”

“Gross,” you huff at your brother, now hopping on your own bike.

Lucas and Dustin begin to pedal away, and you call after them to wait up. Will is still with Mike, and you promised Jonathan you’d get him home. You give the boys a bit of space, waiting a few paces ahead. Will has always been shy around Mike, something that you’ve tried not looking into too much, but to be safe you give them some privacy.

Faintly, you hear Will say, “The Demogorgon, it got me.”

Lights flicker a bit, but you’re too focused on the slight unease you feel by Will’s words. Before you can think too much about them, he joins you. “Race you up to Lucas and Dustin?”

“You’re on,” you tell him.

Will beats you to the boys (which you let him do), and you’re out of breath. The four of you bike in silence for a bit until you reach Lucas’s turn into his neighborhood.

“Good night, ladies.” He says, and you don’t need to be a psychic to know what your brother’s response is going to be.

“Kiss your mom ‘night for me.” Bless him.

You and Will giggle together, and Dustin smirks at the two of you, proud. He sits in the praise for a few moments before challenging you and Will to race home with the promise of a comic for whoever wins.

“I call last year’s Black Cat issue of Spider-man!” You call out, already biking away from the boys.

“We didn’t say go!”

Dustin and Will call after you as they try to catch up, and within a few seconds the three of you are speeding down the hill towards your home. You laugh gleefully, enjoying the way the wind whips through your hair and the way Dustin, though annoyed by your early start, laughs alongside you with Will.

Somehow Will is the one who wins the race, which you’re impressed by. He may be small, but he’s surprisingly good at winning when it comes to a competition. Dustin shouts at Will that he’ll kill him, which makes you send a warning look at him.

“I’ll take your X-Men 134!” Will retaliates, still flying through the street.

You and Dustin are now stopped at your mailbox and you take a moment to catch your breath before shouting at Will, “Be careful, please! Stay safe!”

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night. Dustin has already gone inside but you wait to follow, only going inside when you can no longer see Will, hopefully home safe and sound. You feel fear creep upon you, but you chalk it up to your usual worry when it comes to the boy.

He’ll be okay, Jonathan should be home within the hour.

–

The next morning you’re frantically biking to school, pissed off at Jonathan. He’s your ride every morning, or everywhere, really, and for the second time in 24 hours he’s bailed on you. Dustin left for school ages ago on his bike, so you’re thankful he doesn’t see you embarrassingly sweaty and gross as you race to school.

It’s not that you’re pissed that Jonathan bailed again, you’re pissed because he didn’t even have the nerve to call you ahead of time to warn you. Now you have only ten minutes before the first bell rings, and your sweater clings to you uncomfortably as you sweat.

You make it to school with a few minutes to spare, so you quickly make your way over to your locker to grab the necessary books for the day. You’re still sweaty, and you don’t want to even think about what your hair looks like right now. You look down the hall towards Jonathan’s locker, still not seeing him, and you begin to worry a bit. Maybe he overslept after last night’s shift?

A body crashes into yours, sending your notebooks spiraling to the ground. Steve Harrington looks at you sheepishly, only saying a small “whoops!” before continuing his fast pace towards the girl’s bathroom. You scoff, now even more annoyed with your entire morning, picking up your stuff as you see Nancy enter the same bathroom a few moments later.

“In a public school bathroom?” You mutter in disgust, collecting the last of your things and heading to class.

You decide to give Jonathan until second period, sophomore English which the two of you share, before you freak out. You know you have a problem with over worrying about the people you love, so you try to calm yourself down. While Jonathan has never been the type to cancel without at least calling first, you reason with yourself that everyone has a bad morning. He simply slept in too late. When he wakes up, he’ll come to school and he’ll be sitting in the seat next to you in English.

Except Jonathan isn’t in the seat next to yours when you enter the classroom an hour later. Now you officially let yourself begin to worry. Something about this doesn’t feel right.

You’ve never skipped class before, school has always been important to you. You’re the top of your class with hopes of running away from Hawkins with Jonathan to a big city with an even bigger university. However, you don’t even hesitate to flee the classroom and find the nearest phone in the school to call the Byers’ residence.

Jonathan answers after a few rings, and the words that leave his lips change your life forever. “Will is missing.”

You feel all the air in your lungs be knocked out of you. You can’t breathe and you sway a bit as your knees threaten to give out. This isn’t real, this can’t be happening.

“What?”

“Will, he-he’s gone, Y/N. We can’t find him and-”

You don’t hear whatever else Jonathan says. You struggle to get air back in your lungs. Will isn’t missing, you just saw him last night. Mere hours ago Will laughed next to you, face alive with joy, he hugged you and joked along with you.

“He didn’t come home last night-”

“He didn’t come home?” Jonathan’s words catch your attention and you feel bile rise in your throat. Will didn’t make it home last night. You were the last one to see him, and the realization crushes you; it’s all your fault.

“Mom and I just searched the woods, and there’s no sign of him and-” Jonathan is rambling now, his own fear and despair clear in his voice.

“Jonathan,” you force his name out, now needing to be there for your best friend. You can worry for Will in your own time, right now Jonathan needs you. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Y/N, you don’t-”

You hang up before Jonathan can argue with you and stumble towards the exit. Your limbs feel heavier than normal, and your ears are ringing. Will is missing. He’s so small, he’s scared of the dark… You left him alone in the dark.

The bike ride to the Byers home is a blur. You don’t remember much, your body going on autopilot the second you hopped on your bike. You’re running on pure fear and adrenaline right now, too worried for your boys to focus on anything else.

You don’t bother to knock when you arrive, instead you let yourself in. Joyce is on the phone, arguing with some woman named Cynthia. Your eyes find Jonathan’s, who is sitting on the couch hunched over something. You walk over to him and sit down beside him and your stomach lurches when you see the words “have you seen me?” he’s so neatly printed out on a piece of paper.

“Bee…” you exhale, voice cracking a bit.

Jonathan doesn’t say anything, but you know him as well as you know yourself. He doesn’t want comforting words right now. You take his hand into yours and lean your head against his shoulder. Worry has made his muscles tense, but you feel him relax into you a bit as he rests his own head against yours. The two of you sit like that for a moment, taking in the comfort you bring each other.

“Bitch!” Joyce slams the phone down, causing you and Jonathan to jump apart.

“Mom,”

“What?” Joyce is a mixture of both rage and anxiety, and you feel awful looking at her. Her son is missing, you can’t imagine what she must be feeling right now.

“You have to stay calm.” Jonathan tells her, his voice firm but kind. You know it’s taking everything in him to be as stable as he is right now; he’s putting on a front for his worried mother. You squeeze his hand, hoping it conveys the support and love that you need it to.

He squeezes back, and you see Joyce finally recognize that you’re there as well. She sends you a weak wave, which you return, before she goes back to dialing and trying to reach Lonnie. Jonathan gives your hand one last squeeze and lets go, now returning back to the posters. You immediately understand that he’s doing this to distract himself, so you do the same and wordlessly help him.

You begin writing your own “have you seen me?” when Joyce once again slams her phone down. The sound makes you flinch, inadvertently messing up your writing, which you sigh at. Before you can ask Jonathan for another piece of paper, you hear a car pull up.

Jonathan stands up to investigate, alerting his mom that the cops are here. You follow after them outside, your heart dropping when you see Will’s bike in the Chief’s hand. He ushers everyone inside, informing Joyce that he found the bike lying in the road.

“How far was it from the house?” You ask, your voice frail.

The Chief looks at you, his nametag informs you that his name is Hopper, and raises his eyebrows. “And can I know who is asking?”

You clear your throat, nervous under his scrutinizing gaze. “I’m Y/N Henderson. I’m close with the Byers, I biked with Will home,” your voice catches in your throat, snagging onto the guilt that has been clawing at you ever since you found out Will was missing. You clear your throat again, determined to continue. “I was with him last night. My brother and I live right off Mirkwood, a few blocks from here. He only had a few more minutes before he would’ve been home.”

Hopper stares at you. “Mirkwood?”

“It’s where-”

“Yeah, those moron kids explained it to me. I just didn’t think someone your age would call the street that, too.” Then, as an afterthought, Hopper adds, “The bike was found a block from here.”

His words sting, but you ignore it. If the bike was found only a block from the Byers’ home, then that means that something had to have happened to Will only minutes after you last saw him. You feel the familiar churning in your stomach, wracked with guilt.

“Did it have any blood on it?” Joyce now asks, and you’re thankful she’s taken the attention off of you.

Jonathan sees your distress and grabs your sweater so that you fall back a bit from the cops and Joyce. “Do you need a minute?”

You can only nod, afraid that if you open your mouth you’ll either cry or throw up. He gently guides you to his room, closing the door. Once you’re alone, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight. You’re shaking harder than ever now, Will’s happy and shining face from last night keeps flashing through your mind.

You were the last one who ever saw him.

You’re the one who was last responsible for him.

You.

“It’s not your fault,” Jonathan whispers, his voice muffled by your hair. You’ve always loved how you fit perfectly in his arms, your height difference being just enough that he always rests his chin against your head when he hugs you.

“I’m the last person who saw him.”

“Y/N, I was the one who asked you to only bike him halfway-”

“No,” your voice comes out louder than you intend it to, and you push Jonathan away. He lets out a confused noise as you grapple at him, forcing him to look directly at you. “I should’ve been with him, Jonathan. It’s your job to support your family, and it’s my job to help you. I have to… I have to be the one who helps you.”

You’ve always been fascinated by psychology, and you remember reading in one of the journals about codependency; the term was used in relation to addiction, specifically alcoholism, but it had caught your interest. To love someone to the extent that their actions make you feel responsible for them, to selflessly take on their burdens to a debilitating extent, well, it reminded you of your relationship with Jonathan.

You’ve always taken on whatever Jonathan has had to deal with, ever since you were kids, and it’s always come so naturally to you. He’s never asked you to, and sometimes the extent to which you carry his weight angers him, but it’s how you love.

It’s who you are. You’re always the one who helps, it’s what you need to be able to do. If you can’t help the ones you love the most, then what good is your love for them?

Jonathan may not know about codependency, but he knows how hard you love those closest to you. “Bug, listen to me.” He grabs your face, almost aggressively, in order to cut off your rambling. “My mom, she-she’s already spiraling and I can’t… I need you. I need you to be here, with me, right now. If I lose you too, then I-I don’t know what I’ll do.”

His words cut through you like glass. He’s right, you know he’s right, and you feel another wave of guilt wash over you. This guilt is different from the guilt surrounding Will. This is mixed with shame for allowing yourself to spiral so far and forcing Jonathan to take care of you. Joyce is clearly unwell, you can’t fathom how much he’s had to deal with today.

You gently remove Jonathan’s hands from your face and take a step back. If you’re going to help him, you need to collect yourself. From here on out, you have to be a wall for him to lean on, a shoulder to cry on, someone who will listen to him.

“I’m sorry.”

Jonathan shrugs at you, now allowing a hesitant smile to cross his face. “If it makes you feel any better, it took a lot less pleading to get through to you. I’m still working on my mom.”

The joke is foul, one that should make you feel even worse than you already do, because what sixteen year old has to plead with their mother to remind her that he’s there, too? The joke is horrible, and it’s exactly what you need to find yourself laughing, and Jonathan joins.

Codependency can be a bitch, but Jonathan understands you in ways that no one else can.

“You think the cops are gone?” You ask, wiping away the remaining tears.

Jonathan listens for any sign of them and shakes his head. “No, I think we’re all clear.”

He walks out the room first and you follow after him. Joyce is standing in the kitchen, staring at the counter with a far off look in her eyes. You and Jonathan look at each other and you motion for him to go talk to her. He nods, and then you motion to the living room to indicate that you’ll continue working on the missing posters.

Carefully writing on the posters soothes you, in a way. It’s rhythmic, providing a sense of lull that you readily embrace. You faintly hear Jonathan talking with his mother, then you watch as he leads her to her bedroom and shuts the door. When he returns he sits next to you on the couch and begins to work on the posters as well. No words are needed.

You work on the posters in silence for a few hours until it nears 3pm. Dustin will be getting out of school soon, and you have to be there for him when he’s home. While Will may be Jonathan’s brother, he’s also your brother’s best friend. You get up and head into the kitchen, long familiar now with its layout and usual contents within the fridge, and quickly prepare the ingredients for spaghetti. It’s a simple meal, but Jonathan and Joyce need to eat. Once it’s all laid out, you return to the living room and tap on your friend’s shoulder.

“Hey, I have to head out now to check on Dustin, but I just put a pot of water on the stove along with some noodles on the counter. I also cut up some vegetables and put them in the fridge for the sauce. Start the meal whenever, I laid everything out for you.”

“Thank you, really,” Jonathan exhales, relief evident on his face. He hadn’t even thought about dinner, which you figured he wouldn’t.

You bend down to kiss the top of his head. “Anytime, bee. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Okay,”

“Just…” you linger at the door, not fully wanting to leave him all by himself. “Be careful, please.”

“Go, Y/N. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Jonathan reassures you.

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night.

It’s brief, but the flashback punches you in the gut. You close your eyes, holding onto the image of Will’s face in the moonlight last night, and when it fades you take a deep breath and force yourself to leave.

The second you’re on your bike, pedaling away from the house, you let the sobs that have wracked against your throat all day out. It’s messy, the tears coming down your face faster than you can wipe them away. All the fear you’ve felt is now able to freely come out. It’s not the safest way to bike home, but you know that if you hold the tears in any longer you’ll collapse. You do your best to still be alert, but apparently you fail because a BMW honks at you to avoid you hitting it.

“Fuck!” You yank your bike to the right, having no idea that you had been on the left side of the road, and topple over. The fall isn’t anything bad, but it definitely is your final straw for the day. You lay in the ditch you’ve landed in, staring at the November sky, and let the pain from your skinned knee serve as something to ground you to reality.

“Holy shit, did I hit you?”

Steve Harrington stands over you, a horrified look in his eyes.

“Unfortunately not, otherwise I’d be able to sue you and get money out of it.”

“Uh… okay?” He offers you his hand, although still very confused. “You didn’t like, happen to hit your head or anything, right?”

You accept his help, albeit mostly because you have to, and brush yourself off when you’re up. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t paying attention, sorry.”

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you.

“So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?”

Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.

“No,” you say, now repositioning your backpack so that you can get back on your bike. “Thanks anyways, Harrington.”

Steve continues to follow you, even after you’ve started to pedal away. “You’re welcome, random girl I almost hit!”

You’re a bit further now, and you still feel like utter shit, but his words somehow make you laugh a bit. For a brief moment, you forget about everything, so you call behind, “It’s Henderson!”

“That’s an odd first name!” The boy shouts after you, still following from a distance.

“Y/N Henderson!” You’re fully yelling now, a good yard away, but you can tell that Steve hears you based on the way he begins to wave eagerly, finally stopping next to his car. Faintly you understand the boyish charm that makes him so loved by all the girls in the school; you understand why Nancy Wheeler has fallen for him.

“Bye, Y/N!” It’s faint, but you swear you can hear a smile in his voice.

The good mood that Steve Harrington inexplicably puts you in vanishes when you near your house. Nothing has changed, yet it feels as if something has shifted. Will had been here only hours ago. You spot Dustin’s bike laying on the grass, haphazardly thrown as usual.

Dustin is just taking off his coat when you enter, immediately running over to him to pull him into a bone crushing hug.

“Y/N!” he squeaks in surprise.

“Are you okay?” You know you’re squeezing your brother harder than you need to, but God. He’s safe, in your arms, and you’ve now learned that not everyone can say the same about their own loved ones.

Dustin wiggles a bit, trying to break away from the hug, but you only pull him in tighter. “Geesh, no one died.”

Normally you’d berate him, but you embrace his snarky comments. They’re what make Dustin so unique, his humor one of your favorite parts of him

When you don’t respond, Dustin stops wiggling around and finally accepts the situation. “I love ya too, sis.”

You giggle a bit, now pulling away. “At least mom isn’t home right now. The minute she hears about what’s happened, we’ll be on lockdown.”

Dustin’s eyes widen. “Shit, you’re right.”

“Lan-”

“Language, I know.”

You ruffle his hair, now feeling a bit better. Dustin is still Dustin, so maybe everything will be okay. You and your brother go into the kitchen for your post school snack, and you call your boss to inform her that you can’t make it to your shift. The words “family emergency” catch in your throat a bit, and Mrs. Waters is kind enough not to push it.

Dustin catches you up on his day, informing you about Hopper questioning him and the other boys.

You scrunch your nose at that. “Is that even legal?”

“Unsure, but it was awesome.”

“Will went missing, Dustin. It isn’t ‘awesome’.”

Dustin tilts his head at you. “Well, I bet Will is going to have a blast hearing everything when we find him.”

His words are so matter of fact, as if he already knows that Will will be found after all. His naivety worries you a bit, but you also can’t help but indulge in his hope as well. Then you think about what he’s just said. “Wait, who’s ‘we’?”

Your brother pretends he can't hear you, miming at his ears. “Dustin-”

“What?”

“Dustin, you and the boys can’t just-”

“I can’t hear you!” He’s running to his room now with you quick behind his heels.

“Dustin, I swear to God-”

“I gotta do homework, Y/N, bye!” He slams the door in your face.

You sigh. There’s no getting through to him, years of being Dustin’s older sister has taught you that, so you go into your room instead. You might as well get started on the assignments you missed today, and you have a huge chem test tomorrow, so you’ll focus on that and keep an ear out for Dustin. Whatever he’s planning with the boys, you won’t let them do it alone.

After a couple hours of silence from Dustin’s room, you decide to call Jonathan. The line rings for a while with no answer, and eventually you give up. It makes sense that he’s not answering, he’s had a long day. You hope he’s asleep, but you know him better than that. He’s probably holed up in his room, trying to distract himself like you are right now.

A loud thud from Dustin’s room breaks you from your thoughts. Then you hear a quiet “shhh!” that sounds suspiciously like Lucas, and you immediately throw on your shoes and a jacket and march outside.

Dustin is halfway out of his window when you arrive, and Mike and Lucas stare at you, caught red handed.

“Guys, I think she can hear us.” Your brother says, breaking the silence. Mike scoffs at him and Lucas groans.

You eye the three of them, unamused. “Your best friend just went missing, what the hell are you guys doing out here so late and alone?”

Dustin awkwardly finishes his descent down, finally landing on his feet with a thud. He secures his hat back on his head and goes to grab his bike. You block his path.

“I’m serious, one of you needs to start talking, now.”

Lucas and Dustin look at Mike, who is their unofficial leader of the gang, and he huffs. “Look, Y/N, I like you-”

“How thrilling.” You say, voice monotone.

The boy ignores you and continues to talk. “But Will is missing, and we aren’t just going to sit around and wait. He’s our friend, we have to do something.”

You open your mouth to speak, but Lucas interrupts you. “You’re definitely our favorite sister in the group, so you’d be even cooler if you let us go.”

Again, you try to respond, but this time Dustin beats you to it. “Yeah, you’re like, totally cool already. If you pretend that you never saw us, that’d be great.”

“Guys-”

“And don’t give us a whole lecture about safety. That’s all bull.” Mike says.

“Boys!” You scream. They all fall silent, not used to you ever raising your voice at them. You’ve only ever yelled at them once or twice, preferring to be the “cool” sister whenever you can, but right now they’re seriously pissing you off.

“Let me speak.” When no one says anything, you continue. “I’m not going to stop you guys from looking for Will. In fact, I support it-”

“You do?”

You shoot Mike a death glare, which promptly shuts him up. “Yes, I do. However, I’m not letting you guys go alone.”

The boys all groan at this, acting as if it’s the worst thing in the world to have you tag along with them. You ignore their complaining and head over to where your bike sits against the porch. You zip up your coat, the chill from the night making you shiver a bit.

“No arguing, or I’ll call all your moms. Ours included, Dustin.”

“Why me?”

“Look, guys. I’m proud of you for stepping up, but I’m coming with. The last time I let one of you boys go off into the woods alone…”

The boys shift uncomfortably now, realizing how heavy the guilt weighs upon you. After a few beats of silence, Mike finally gives in.

“Fine,” he says, pointing a finger at you. “But the second you start to freak out, you’re gone.”

You salute Mike, hopping on your bike as you all begin to bike away. The ride doesn’t take long, since you live just off of where Will was last seen. Thunder rumbles when you all approach the crime scene, and you shudder a bit.

“It’s going to rain, guys.” You inform them.

Dustin looks up at the sky with uncertainty. “I think maybe we should go back.”

Mike is quick to shut down the idea, urging the others to keep going. You admire his loyalty to Will, and you figure it’s why the two of you butt heads so often. Out of the entire group, you’re the most similar to him.

Lucas and Mike go under the caution tape first, and Dustin hangs back. You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We can go back, you know.”

He clenches his jaw, jutting his chin out a bit. “No, Will needs us.”

Your brother puffs out his chest and follows after his friends, leaving you to take up the rear. More thunder rumbles and the rain begins to come down. You flip your hood up, thankful you remembered to grab a hoodie when leaving.

Mike guides the way with his flashlight, then Lucas, then Dustin, then you in the back. You make sure to keep your eyes on the three boys, scared that the second you look away they’ll be gone. The woods have always creeped you out, but you push your fear down to keep them safe.

“Will!” Mike calls out, the rain now pouring down on you guys.

“Byers!”

“Will, little bee!” You call out as well. He never liked when you called him that in front of the others, but tonight was an exception.

“I’ve got your X-Men 134!” Your brother bribes, unintentionally making you laugh a bit. If Will is nearby, he’ll surely come out to claim his prize.

Your foot catches on a tree log, and you slip in the mud before just barely managing to catch yourself. It’s getting hard to see given how dark it is and the rain surrounding you. Dustin voices his concerns, only to be called a baby, and you bite your tongue. If you defend him, he’ll only look more like a baby to his friends.

“I’m just being realistic!” He retaliates, which you commend him for.

“Dustin’s right, guys. It’s getting really bad out here. We’re surrounded by a ton of trees, don’t they attract lightning?” You ask, now paranoid that you’ll be struck down any second.

“You guys are being sissies.” Lucas taunts, annoyed as well.

You try to argue, but Dustin voices a thought that’s been at the back of your mind. “Did you ever think Will went missing because he ran into something bad?”

You think back to how Hopper seemed worried when he investigated the Byers home. From what you can recall, he suspected that Will had been running away from something, explaining why he’d abandon his bike.

“And now we’re going to the exact same spot where he was last seen, and we have no weapons or anything?”

Maybe Dustin’s right. This definitely wasn’t your best idea, and you’re regretting letting them follow through with their plan. For someone who claims to want to keep their loved ones safe, you really suck at it.

“Dustin, shut up.” Mike voices, though he now looks a bit concerned as well.

“He’s right, Mike.” You speak up, stumbling a bit in more mud. Your shoes are definitely ruined, now. “I was at Jonathan’s when Hopper showed up, he thinks Will was running from something.”

The boys go quiet now, and when you’re about to suggest going home, you hear rustling in the bushes.

“Did you guys hear that?” Mike asks.

Your heart stops as the rustling continues and you all start to twist and turn, looking for the source of the sound. The rustling gets louder, almost as if it’s getting closer, and you tighten your hand around your flashlight, ready to use it as a weapon just in case.

Then, the light flashes upon a little girl, drenched in an oversized yellow shirt, shivering. Her head is shaved, but her small stature suggests to you that she is indeed a girl. You all stare at her, no one saying a thing. She stares back, a terrified look on her face that breaks your heart.

“Holy shit,” you whisper.

Her eyes land on you; something about her reminds you of Will, and you know that nothing will be the same again.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #honestly i just want to be jonathans bff #like its criminal that he doesnt have any real friends in the show until SEASON 4 #absolutely wild

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fandomwritingbit · 2 months

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Sweet Girl pt.5

dbf/William Afton x (fem) virgin/reader

pt.1 - here. pt.2 - here. pt.3 - here. pt.4 - here.

Synop: Bored of the lack of contact you and William decide to bring wanking to the 21st century.

Warnings: Smut, masturbation, obsessive behaviour/thoughts for the both of you, corruption, coercion. Virgin reader.

A/n: MATES, MATES, I FUCKING WROTE SOMMET. This is not a drill, I wrote something after weeks of nada and it's... well, it's mediocre. But it's something! This was not the part 5 I had planned but rather a dirty thought that ran away with me that I hope reads half decently.

Is this fuck proofread lmao, soz for any errors I'll try to fix them later on x

You wake very confused, squinting in the light from your bedroom window that was much too bright for 8 in the morning, so you lift yourself from your sheets to check your phone: 9:30. You’ve overslept. Siting up properly you glace at your side table clock through sleepy eyes, needing to confirm the reality of the time, you set an alarm, what the fuck? You have plans today that are now going to have to be pushed up.

You’re up like a whirlwind, messaging the friend you’re supposed to be having breakfast with that it’s now going to have to be a lunch, a late lunch ideally. Surprisingly they’re not too put out, they must be running late themselves. Crisis averted, you head downstairs to get yourself some coffee which will hopefully combat the awful feeling of having screwed your whole day up already. To be fair, it’s about time something like this happened to you, life’s been too easy for too long. Well, baring the odd relationship with your father’s friend, of course.

Not wanting to tackle the coffee machine, which you swear is as old as you, if not older, you go for coffee granules and the kettle. A simple man’s brew, and that’s certainly how you feel today. You hadn’t bothered with dressing or throwing a dressing gown on, it’s a warm enough morning that you can stand in the kitchen in your pyjama shorts and vest without shivering, the only cold you feel is your bare feet on the tile.

Your kettle clicks and you set about making your cup, ignoring the squeak of the backdoor opening, you’ll greet whichever parent it is when they greet you, if the interaction can be delayed it’s for the best. You pour your water, but the sudden and crisp sound of a wolf whistle makes you overspill onto the counter. Sliding your phone out the way of the spillage, you turn to see the sniggering face of William and your heart manages to soar and sink at the same time, something only this man is able to do.

Your annoyed expression melts into a flush, you know exactly why he whistled and you cross your arms over your chest accordingly, hard up to do anything about the shorts position high up your thighs.

“Sorry,” He says without any conviction, still grinning as the coffee begins to drip off the edge of the worktop. Adding slyly, “You wouldn’t mind making me one, would you?”

You neglect to answer, going for an embarrassed, “What are you doing here?” instead. The man’s been in your kitchen for less than a minute and you already feel like you shouldn’t be here, for your own protection. Last time springs to your mind, involuntarily quickening your heart rate. He’d caught you off guard then too, then used you up and wrung you out, and you loved every second of it. You hate him for that, and the way your pussy seems to know when he’s in the room, it’s not fair.

“Clearing out the garage with you dad.” He presents his palms in his own defence, the smug look of him shows his pride at begging her legitimately. “He told me you were out.” It’s phrased like a question, again making you feel like a trespasser in your own home.

“I’m supposed to be.” You explain without detail, averting your gaze from his and instantly remembering the mess on the counter, and now the floor.

“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Especially in that.” He laughs meanly, making you frown. You look pretty all annoyed at him, the furrow of your brown not doing anything to hide the heat on your face from the invasive way his eyes drink you in. And as if that wasn’t far enough he steps forward, sliding his hand over the silky fabric coating your hip. “Almost as revealing as that pretty little bikini.” Your back hits the surface behind you, he has a knack for cornering you, but you suppose it’s not exactly herding cats if the prey doesn’t want to run away.

The comment hits home though and you remember exactly how easy it was for him to move that garment aside and-

You’re pulled from that thought as his hand slides further, over your hip to your arse. “Stop.” You say a little breathless, not liking how he just grins at the word. “...My dad could walk in.”

“That didn’t stop you last time.” His tone is mocking, riddled with amusement at how you can’t seem to refuse him.

“That was stupid… You make me stupid.” You mutter, pushing his hand away and trying to ignore how affected you feel already. “You need to stop.” You affirm, holding your voice steady to prevent the whine that threatened to accompany it.

William leans closer to you, a mean joy practically emanating from him when your breath hitches. He speaks lowly, a gleeful edge warming you for him and doing everything possible to add to that stupidity “Are you going to make me?”

You just look up at him, your chest rising quickly less than half an inch from his. “...Yes.” You finally manage, nerves and need in your core making you hesitant. Your eyes are wide in wait for response, and the man holds firm just long enough that you panic. He reaches behind you for something before obeying your word, you realise sharpish that he’s plucked your phone from the countertop.

Trying to take it back fails when he catches your wrist and flicks you away. You’re whining like a child, unable to help the discomfort flooding your veins at him holding something so personal. “William, give it back. What are you-” Your words die when he simply holds the phone in front of you and you hear the subtle click of your face ID unlocking it.

You watch angrily as he steps away with the device, internally fighting the urge to try and take it back by force.

He glances at your outrage, stoking it with, “You must have some dirty secrets on here to protest so much.” Shaking his head, he makes you wait whilst he does whatever he nicked your phone to do. Chuckling as he has to manoeuvre the screen from your sight when you try to at least see what he’s doing. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m giving you my number… You don’t want to entertain me now, then you can later.”

You find yourself nodding when he hands you the phone back.

Your day is spent, lunch and coffee with your mate over and done with, dinner with your parents finished. So you slip away to bed with your phone clutched to your chest, which is tight with forbidden excitement. Halfway through the day your checking of messages was fruitful, with one from William telling you that you’re going to ‘entertain him’ at 11pm tonight, and despite your naivety you know exactly what that means.

The only way to combat your nerves is preparation so you pick out a matching bra and knickers set, light pink and lacy, you know he’s going to like them, perhaps too much if anything. Then a white nightdress, just see-through enough to give a hint as to the underwear underneath.

Then it’s propping your phone up with a pillow and sitting cross-legged on your bed, checking to see it the view will be good, and it certainly will. From there, all you do is wait, your foot absentmindedly tapping away with the excess excitement, you’re aroused at the thought of it. A dirty video call with a bloke older than your dad, it’s everything you’re not supposed to do, a bad idea all around, but that just makes your panties that bit wetter.

He’s a little late, but the very moment he calls you answer, not even waiting for a ring. It makes him smirk, such a sweet thing, ready for him, no doubt waiting for him. Fuck, if he was twenty years younger he’d scale the window and see it in person.

You know you’ve given your want away by his sly expression, and he teases you by saying, “Eager, huh?”

You pout, now hating all the effort you went to and trying to explain it away. “Well, I was expecting-I knew you were going to-”

Somehow, even through your tiny phone screen he has enough presence to be able to cut you off. “It’s a good thing.” He pauses before adding with a snicker, “I doubt you’re as eager as me.” He shifts as he says that and your heart skips a beat at the thought of him touching himself already. It’s a power only he has ever given you, to know just how mental you make him and that power makes your core tighten.

“Now, sweet thing.” There’s a nonchalance to his words that contradict the fact he’s palming himself over his boxers, he can’t help it, he can see the strap of your bra peeking out and the curve of your hips suggested by your nightie. It doesn’t pass him by that he’s fucking pathetic. “Have you got headphones, or do I have to keep my voice down?”

You hadn’t thought of that, but you’re glad he did when you think how often you hear your parents tv through the wall. So you reach to your bedside drawer to retrieve your headphones, well aware that he’s watching you and trying to catch sight of whatever he can. And after a moment you plug them in and pop them in your ears, flushing when you realise that the sound feels a lot more intimate now. Maybe he knew that.

“God you drive me crazy with all the tiny fucking clothes you wear.” He’s laughing but you know he’s not joking. You’re not in a position to laugh, how exactly can you tell him that he drives you crazy with everything he fucking does. From the tensing of his jaw to the delirious sensation of his voice on your skin. All of it has your body begging for anything he’s willing to give you, regardless of what your mind thinks.

You can’t prevent a small smile on your lips though, “I don’t do it on purpose.” Even as you say it you know it’s a lie, you didn’t do it on purpose at first, now though, you want him to see you.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, sweetheart.” He knows you better than that. You giggle, it should be illegal for him to read your mind that easily. “I’d wager under that nightie you’re wearing something nice for me. Like a gift to be unwrapped.” The look on your face says it all, when you bite your lip like that he wants to bite it for you. “Am I right?”

You can hardly look at your screen, but you nod, barely able to sit still.

“Fuck, let me see.” Something about how he’s speaking now is very telling and you revel in the feeling for a moment before shifting to sit on your feet.

“Okay.” You sound so small and quiet you can hardly hear it over that arousal in your blood. Your fingers hook under the bottom of your nightdress, hesitant to begin the process and your eyes flick to the screen.

You catch his gaze and he smirks, “Come on, you know I’d do it for you if I could.” That you are certain of, sometimes there’s such hunger in his eyes you think he’s a breath away from ripping the fabric off you.

You do as asked, your panties straps revealed high on your hips guiding the sight up your stomach,then to the thin lace hardly covering your breasts. You were right, he does like it. Much too much.

“God, you are like a fucking present.” You grin at that, watching the hint of movement you can see towards the bottom of the screen, and you core pangs with the knowledge of what he’s doing. Now sitting on your feet, you press your heel between your legs and jump at the jolt of stimulation it brings.

Your lip is between your teeth again as you debate whether you’re brave enough to ask for what you want. “...Show me.” You manage in a surge of voice, you wish you didn’t sound as shy as you do.

You hear William’s scoff of disbelief, he hadn’t expected you to ask that but he supposes it’s only fair. “Yeah?”

You nod, watching eagerly as he moves a hand to change the angle of your view. The sight stirs you immensely, his boxers pulled down enough to let his cock free, he held it, touching himself at a slow pace. You rake the image for what you can see, his shirt pulled up to let you see the trail of dark hair that leads down to his length. A crazy part of you burns to press your nose against his trail, curiosity, or something dirtier you don’t know, but you know he’d let you if you asked.

It’s with near fascination you watch his stroke himself, not noticing how you’ve begun grinding your pussy against your heel, your knickers are clinging to your slick but all shame is lost.

“I didn’t expect you to want to see.” He sniggers, you recognise the thickness of his voice, remembering the pride in your core when you took him in your mouth, the heavy breathing of someone clinging on to their self restraint by the tips of their fingers. There’s precum on his tip smeared by each rise of his fist, it’s a dirty feeling and if you were in his reach he’d have it resting pretty on your tongue.

Soon your movement isn’t enough anymore, your heat whines for better friction, the attention on your clit that he does just right. It’s written in your posture and the pinch of frustration between your brows.

William’s voice affirms your need. “You can touch yourself, lovely. Don’t have to wait to be told.”

“I know.” You reply quickly, embarrassed at how easy he’d jumped to that conclusion. If you were harder to read maybe he wouldn't have such a hold on you.

“Or do you want me to ask?” There it is again, that mocking that shouldn’t speak directly to your slick, it’s condescending but you know in your heart that he knows better. You open your mouth to protest the teasing but you have no chance to. “Come on, show me how you play late at night, how you give yourself what you need.” He wants to seem like he’s humouring you but right now, with his cock in his hand, he’d beg to see just how you touch your perfect cunt.

You’re doing it, shifting your position so you’re sitting properly, legs raised to let you trace over your bundle of nerves. The fabric of your panties quickly proves irritating, so you hurry to take them off, glancing repeatedly at the view on screen, dying to match the rhythm of him stroking himself, not wanting to miss anything. At the sight of your pussy bare for him, knickers discarded, he hisses through his teeth; now that is the kind of thing that gets a bloke in serious trouble.

“And the rest.” He adds, and you’re so lost in your new-found touch it takes you a moment to realise what he’s referring to, when you do you push the bra straps from your shoulders, shimmying the garment down so that your chest is free. Your nipples are hard from your excitement, all parts of you aware of the growing need in your core, begging for the release your touch promises. It should be familiar but with William’s eyes on you it takes you time to remember what you like.

You rub your clit, the cues from your body calling for you to press your fingers inside your hole. You’re unable to reach like he does, but it’s enough to bring your end into sight and a soft moan from your lips.

He’s chuckling watching how weak you become, like he’s not moving faster with the taste of release on his tongue. It takes a lot for him to ask the question burning in his head, he already knows the answer but hearing it from you is going to be delicious. “Tell me, what you think about, when you play with yourself, sweet thing.” The words are stilted with his involuntarily quickening pace, he’s close and it’s fucking stupid how much he needs to cum.

“You.” You say instantly, voice cracking. Your head between my legs, fingers hooking inside, teeth on my neck as you line your cock up between my legs. You haven’t the coherent thought process to say that, it’s flicking images of past imaginings, you shouldn’t want to give yourself to this man as much as you do.

William grunts, speaking through gritted teeth to try and remain somewhat controlled, though there’s nothing controlled about his frantic movement, nor yours. “You’re so fucking lucky I’m not in there with you.”

It’s not a threat, you’ve seen the size of him, you’ve been delirious from just his fingers, but you want it. You want him in there with you. You want it all.

He loses it at your wide eyed look, fucking his fist ��til his cum is dripping down his abdomen. You're not far yourself from the view alone, but you can hear his breathing, the groan right as he touches the peak. And your walls clamp around your fingers in stuttering waves of climax, you shiver with it, your legs unwillingly pressing together. You have to bite the inside of your cheeks to keep any noise leaving you, a startled thought of discovery hitting you out of nowhere.

“Fucking hell.” His voice makes you regain your senses, he’s chuckling and the hand not coated in release slips out of shot to rub the bridge of his nose; why is it so much better when a pretty thing like you is watching?

“William?” You’re shaky as you speak, weighing up what you want to ask, deciding that closed mouths don’t get fed. In response he tilts the camera up so you can see he’s listening, and you can’t help but hit screenshot at the sight of him so dishevelled. “Next time… I want you to be here with me.”

He laughs, “Anything you want, princess. I mean it.”

#fnaf #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf smut #william afton x you #fnaf william afton #fnaf movie #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 1 month

Text

Never Say Never

Chapter 15

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 8.5K

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Far later than she’d expected, you pulled into the driveway of your home. Dinner and coffee had turned into a stroll down the street to the local bar, The Stumble Inn, where the owner, Dan, loved a good play on words. A couple drinks, a lot of conversation, and quite a bit of laughter later, you'd all finally said your good nights, all of you heading off to your own vehicles for home.

The boys were probably already asleep considering it was pushing eleven. That was alright. The four of you were planning on a bike ride tomorrow afternoon so if Steve wanted, he could always just leave Jeremiah there. No point in waking the kid to drag him home simply to bring him back again.

Opening the front door, you stepped inside to find Steve on the couch, a rerun of Who’s the Boss playing on the tv. He turned to look over at you, his arms propped behind his head, giving you one of those glaringly bright smiles that made you feel like you needed to shield yourself, to bring a hand to your eyes to protect them.

“Hey.”

Dropping your purse on the table by the door, you made your way into the living room, smiling down at him. “Hey. Sorry I’m so late. We completely lost track of time.”

“That’s alright. I was expecting it. I told you that you were going to be later than you thought. Robin and Nancy love to talk. And with you being all shiny and new, they had endless things to ask you, I’m sure.”

Steve pushed himself up to sitting with his legs still out in front of him, opening his arms to you. You happily accepted his invite, your body liquefying into him when his arms came around you, pulling you into the warmth of his chest. Sighing contentedly, you wound your arms around his waist curling your legs underneath you, relieved that the awkwardness of earlier appeared to be forgotten.

“They should get jobs as interrogators. They definitely threw the book at me. I don’t know if there’s anything they don’t know about me at this point,” you joked, “including the unfortunately mortifying third grade talent show story.”

“Ohh, do tell. I’m intrigued now.”

“No. That one is better left unshared. Trust me. I don’t know why I even told them. I think your friends have some kind of superpower. I was running off at the mouth, story after story. I couldn’t seem to make myself stop. To be fair, they were shooting questions at me so fast I barely had time to stop and think. I’m stuck being friends with them forever now, you know. They have far too much dirt on me. Way too much they could blackmail me for. I fear I’ve made a grave mistake.”

Steve’s laugh rumbled beneath you, his fingers slipping into your hair, thumb pressing into your skin as it slid over the back of your neck. Your eyes slipped closed, your body practically humming under his touch. His other hand moved under your chin, lifting your face to his and a soft moan escaped you when his lips found yours, gently, tenderly.

You would never tire of his mouth, his touch, the way it set you aflame every single time. You wanted him in a way that was borderline dangerous. The way you wanted him was all consuming, like a fire raging through a forest, turning everything to ash in its wake. If it weren’t for the boys, you were certain you would lose your job because you would do nothing but spend hours in bed with this man.

But there were the boys to consider. It was hard to concentrate on that fact when Steve’s tongue was exploring your throat, his hand slipping under your shirt. Fingertips made rough from working with his hands teased your skin, his palms covering your breasts completely, kneading and squeezing until you were grinding helplessly against his thigh, gasping. But that little voice in the back of your head reminded you, brought you back to reality, the reality where you did not want either of your sons to walk in on this very blatant display in the middle of the living room.

“Steve…” you rasped, struggling through the haze of desire when his lips latched onto your throat, open mouthed kisses creating a path of destruction, obliterating everything that wasn’t him.

“Hmm?” he mumbled against your skin, rolling your nipples with his thumb and forefinger, the jolt of pleasure shooting straight to your core.

“We can’t.” It was a whimper, a whine because you didn’t want this to stop. You didn’t want to be the responsible mom right now. You wanted to take this man straight up to your bed, caution be damned. But you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t. You couldn’t have him staying over, couldn’t have Eli knowing the two of you had shared a bed, not until you were certain this was something that was going to last. You couldn’t put your son through that kind of heartbreak, not after everything he’d already lost.

“Why not?” Now his hands were creeping up your skirt, each one gripping an ample amount of your ass, pressing your center right against the delicious friction of his firm thigh.

“The boys…we can’t…the boys…”

Fuck. It was so hard to form a thought, to fight through the pleasure coursing through your very veins. His mouth teasing your earlobe, the delicious pulsing in your pussy with every press of his leg against you. You felt like a teenager. What the hell was happening to you? Were you seriously about to come just from dry humping a guy’s leg?

“But we can,” he growled, hands gripping your hips, flipping you over so your back was pressed against his chest. “Did I forget to mention they’re not here?”

“Wha…huh?” His hands slid along the insides of your thighs, pressing them open as they went. “Where are they?”

“Well, Jonathan showed up a few hours ago,” he explained, fingers slipping along the edge of your panties. “He said that Nancy had instructed him to come and get them. Repayment for me being so kind to watch them so you could go out with the girls.” One finger slid under the material, slipping through your already damp folds to toy with your clit. “They’re keeping them for the whole night so we can have some time alone. Isn’t that nice?”

“I…oh…uh-huh…”

Your head rolled back against his shoulder, that rubber band that was already stretched so thin within you stretching even more, threatening to snap at any moment as he circled, pinched, and slid over the very center of your pleasure. A rumble fell from Steve’s lips, his nose slipping over your jaw and down your neck. You were not going to last long. Not like this, not when you were already on the brink of destruction.

“Come on beautiful,” he urged, his thumb taking over the work on your clit as he slipped one large finger inside of you. “Say my name for me. You know how much I love it when you say my name for me.”

“Steve…” The word came out choked, one simple syllable that threatened to strangle you as your muscles tensed under his touch, your body ready to shatter completely.

“That’s my girl…wanna hear you screaming it, baby. No need to be quiet tonight.”

Oh shit. Those words…his girl, words you didn’t even know you wanted but you did. You wanted to make him say it again. You wanted to be his girl more than you'd ever wanted anything else at this moment. Everything in your world completely disappeared, shadowed by this man and the way he made you feel.

He got what he wanted. Because as he slid a second finger inside of you, his thumb playing you like the most beautiful song ever written, his name fell from your lips over and over. A crescendo of sound that began as a gasp and rose to a scream when that band finally snapped, your body taut, shaking, before collapsing back into him in a puddle of satisfaction.

“Jesus Christ, Steve…” you mumbled. “How are you so goddamn good…no, scratch that. I don’t want to know.”

He chuckled, arms wrapping around you, face nuzzling your hair, “Don’t worry, gorgeous, because nobody that came before you matters. They were all just practice leading up to the main attraction.” He nipped at your earlobe. “I’ve never wanted to make a girl come over and over again like I do you. The sounds you make, how beautiful you look, the way you say my name, it’s like a goddamn drug, honey. I’m completely hooked on you.”

Turning your body, you straddled him, feeling just how much he was hooked on you pressing into you. The thin fabric of his sweats and the lace of your panties was not creating much of a barrier and you fought back the urge to yank them off him and ride him right here on the couch. But not yet. There was something else you'd been wanting to do first, something that had been on your mind ever since your first encounter in her kitchen.

“Well, if I’m a drug then so are you, Steve Harrington, because I am completely addicted to you.”

“Oh yeah?” His hands settled on your hips, a smirk on his lips. “Is this the part where you fulfill my fantasy? You’re already in the perfect position.” He bucked his hips up and you gasped, hands dropping to his chest.

“Oh, I have every intention of fulfilling that fantasy but not just yet." Leaning forward, you caught his mouth with your own, your tongue gliding over his bottom lip teasingly. Your hands slid under the cotton fabric of his shirt, nails scratching gently down his chest, over his stomach. That little knot wound up within you again at the feel of that coarse hair against your fingers, tapering to a line leading you right where she wanted. Gripping the hem of his shirt, you tugged it over his head, tossing it across the room where it landed on a chair.

Steve’s lower lip jutted out playfully, “This doesn’t seem fair. You still have a top on.” Acquiescing to his request, you pulled your top off, sending it the same way as his. His hands slid up your back, fingers popping open your bra expertly, slingshotting it. “Much better.” One hand gripping you between the shoulder blades, he sat up, his mouth descending on your breasts.

“Yes…” you sighed, cradling his head against you, your hips rocking against his length once again.

“You’re so damn beautiful…”

You smiled, pushing him back down on the couch, wiggling your body down. It was your turn to drive him crazy. Your lips moved over his jaw, down his neck, your tongue tracing a trail over the artery there before your teeth nipped at his shoulder. He grunted, hips bucking when you kept going on your journey south, mouth exploring his chest, teeth raking over his nipples. Hot, wet kisses over his stomach while your hands gathered the material of his sweats and boxers, dragging them over his thighs until his cock was free, bouncing back against his stomach.

Your tongue ran over your lips as you settled onto your stomach between his legs. Steve’s eyes went wide, watching when you took his cock in your hand, dragging the tip of it across your lips. As your tongue darted across the already weeping slit, he hissed, head dropping back to the arm of the sofa.

“Jesus Christ, honey.”

Bolstered by his reaction, you used your hand to raise him up, your tongue running along the vein underneath, from the base to the tip before taking him into your mouth, swirling your tongue teasingly. With a heavy grunt, his hips rose from the couch in an attempt to get more of himself in your mouth.

Grinning around him, you continued your slow torture, only keeping the tip of him in the warmth of your mouth as one hand moved down to cradle his heavy sack, rolling his balls in your palm.

“Fuck…oh my god…honey, please…need more…”

His hands fisted at his sides and deciding you'd tormented him enough, you took the rest of him, as much as you could, working the base of him with your hand as you slowly worked the rest of him with your mouth. The sounds he was making, the animalist grunts and groans, the curses falling from his lips, were goddamn intoxicating. You'd never felt so powerful in your life as you did knowing you could reduce this beautiful man to a mewling mess with just your mouth and hands.

Steve’s fingers slid in your hair, his palms cupping the back of your head as he lifted his hips to match the rhythm of your mouth. You relaxed your throat, gagging slightly as he thrust even further into your throat. He paused, as if uncertain if what he’d done was okay, but when you dug your nails into the flesh of his thigh, lowering your mouth over him again, he took the hint, thrusting once again until your nose was nuzzling the coarse hair at the base of him.

“Shit…honey, I’m…fuck, I’m so close…fuck, stop…I…don’t wanna…not in your mouth…”

Releasing him with an audible pop, you rose to your feet, offering him your hand. He tilted his head in confusion, the look so adorable your heart tugged. How could one man be both the sexiest thing you'd ever seen and the most adorable thing you'd ever laid eyes on at the same time?

“If I’m going to ride you, let’s do it properly…in my bed.”

“Oh…yeah, okay…”

He scrambled, pulling his pants back up as he took your hand, following your lead up the stairs. You'd barely made it into the room when you slammed your hands into his chest firmly, sending him onto his back on the bed. Wasting no time, you slipped your underwear and skirt off before dragging his sweats and boxers down off his legs and onto your floor.

The smile he gave you was so soft, so heart melting, his hands gently cupping your face when you crawled up his body, straddling his hips. He opened his mouth and your heart stuttered in your chest, terrified but also thrilled at what might come out. But just that fast he closed it again, pressing his eyes shut tight.

Brushing away that hope that had flared and dwindled so quickly, you gripped him in your hand, slowly lowering herself down over him. Your warmth wrapped around him like a glove, welcoming him as if he belonged there. You sucked in air, your fingers slipping through the hair on his chest, your teeth biting down on your lower lip.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Steve growled as you rocked against him, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your hips as he met each movement.

“Steve…Steve…Jesus Christ, Steve…”

“You look just as beautiful as I knew you would. Come on, honey. Take what you need. You can have whatever you want. Give you whatever you want, honey.”

“Touch me,” you gasped, whimpering when his thumb found your clit, teasing as you pressed your hands into the mattress, arching your back, your muscles clenching as you came down on his cock again and again. “Yes. Right there. Oh god…so good…”

Your hips rolled into a circle and he grunted, “Yes, baby. Keep doing that. Shit.” His other hand came to your breast, squeezing, pinching, teasing, touching you just like you wanted and you moaned his name again. “Gonna come for me, beautiful?”

“Yes…so close…don’t stop…”

“Oh, I won’t, honey. Don’t worry. Look at me, beautiful. Wanna see you.”

You struggled, working to keep pace as you pulled yourself straight, your hands gripping his shoulders for purchase. Opening your eyes, you looked down, that band in you stretching farther than should be possible as the heat in his gaze consumed you. His name ripped from your throat, so loudly you were sure the people in the next town could hear.

Your body turned to goo, wax from a hot candle sliding down the edges of you to pool on the mattress around you. You had nothing left, your legs shaking and Steve knew, taking over for you. His hands grabbed onto your hips as he plunged himself up and into you before holding her down against him, a roar emitted through gritted teeth, painting your insides with his own release before bringing you with him as you both collapsed.

Your cheek pressed against his sweat-slicked chest, the hair there tickling your skin softly. His fingers trailed over your back, your bodies heaving as you both struggled to catch your breath.

“Holy shit…” he muttered. “So much better than I imagined.”

“Yeah…I…Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t think I can walk.”

His rumbling laugh shook your bodies as his arms held you, rolling you so you were side by side, your body still cradled against his. His lips pressed against your forehead.

“Good thing you don’t have to. Honey, you’re so damn amazing. I…this…” He paused, his throat moving with a hard swallow, as if he were forcing down words he didn’t want to say to leave his mouth, banishing them to the darkness where they couldn’t see the light of day.

“Yeah?” you pressed hopefully, tilting your head back to look at him, wishing for him to say it. To say the words that had been torturing you for the last few hours, the words you were terrified to say until he did.

“I’m just so damn happy. I have never been this happy with anyone. I…” He stopped, eyes squeezing shut. “I like you a lot.”

Your heart squeezed tightly. No, of course he wasn’t going to say those words. Hadn’t you just thought how crazy it would be to say them so soon? Of course he wasn’t feeling any of that already.

“I like you a lot too.” You forced a smile, not wanting him to see the disappointment on your face as you nuzzled down into him, the top of your head tucked under his chin.

___________________________________________________________

Steve blinked against the harsh sunlight coming in through the window, one hand covering his eyes to ward off the glare. Last night came back to him in a burst of images that raced over the backs of his eyelids. The warmth of your mouth, the sight of you above him, your hair falling down your back, the gentle smile that curved your lips up on each side as you fell asleep nestled against his chest, your fingers toying with the coarse hair there as you hummed contentedly.

Rolling his head, he looked down to find you still there but at some point in the night you'd both moved. Now your back was nestled against him, your ass pressed deliciously against him, explaining why he’d woken up with an erection. Winding his arms around you tightly, his lips explored the curve of your shoulder, the hollow of your throat, delighted when you moaned softly, wiggling in his grasp.

“Good morning.” Your voice was husky, deep and raspy, choked with sleep first thing in the morning, just one more thing that Steve couldn’t help but enjoy about you. He would never tire of discovering new things about you. Each new thing only made him…

Love…that word was beginning to be a thorn in his side. The amount of times he’d had to bite his lip last night to keep from saying it was going to leave a bruise. The more time he spent with you, the more time he spent inside you, was making it harder and harder not to scream it out, consequences be damned.

“Good morning.” His nose nuzzled into your neck, lips tracing a line, following it over your shoulder. “I swear, this is the best damn thing to wake up to. You are the best damn thing to wake up to. So much better than a slobbery dog demanding breakfast.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” His fingers skimmed over your soft belly to the curve of your hip, squeezing the ample flesh there. “I could really get used to this, honey. You in my bed…”

“Well, technically this is my bed,” you teased, sighing when his hand dipped into the apex between your thighs.

“My bed, your bed…I really don’t care as long as I get to have you in a bed,” he growled, his lips wrapping around the skin at the hollow of your throat, sucking hard until you moaned deeply. “Jesus, I love the sounds you make. Wanna make you make them all the time.”

“Steve,” you protested, no real challenge in your voice. “Don’t we have to go get the boys?”

“We could push it just a bit.” Using his arm to push himself up, he pressed you onto your back into the mattress. Wiggling his eyebrows, he grinned. “I think Nance and Jonathan would understand if we waited just a couple more hours.”

“A couple hours, huh? You have big plans?”

“Oh honey, a couple hours is not nearly enough time for the plans I have for you.”

How about forever? It was on the tip of his tongue but he just couldn’t say it. He couldn’t risk it, not now, not when he was in so deep that he was drowning in you.

___________________________________________________________

An hour later, clad in only his boxer shorts, Steve was in the kitchen cooking eggs and toast while you took a shower. Unfortunately, human weakness reared its head and other biological needs needed to be met. They had made it known when your stomach had started loudly rumbling while he was buried deep inside you while he pinned your wrists down with his hands.

As much as he hadn’t wanted to pull himself away, he’d begrudgingly done so. The girl needed to eat. While he wanted nothing more than to lock the two of you in that room for the rest of the day, you were going to need your energy for the bike ride he had planned for everybody this afternoon. He couldn’t have you passing out on your bike from low blood sugar.

He slid the spatula under the perfectly cooked over-easy eggs, sliding them onto a plate. Grabbing the two pieces of toast that had just popped up, he added them and set the plate on the table. He added the butter, salt, and pepper and was just going to pour your coffee when there was a knock at the front door.

“Well shit,” muttered Steve, glancing down at his very bare chest. Grabbing his shirt from the chair in the living room where it had been tossed last night, he hastily pulled it over his head, figuring it would have to do if he wasn’t going to leave whoever was on the other side wondering if anyone was home.

Opening the door, he found a woman on the other side. Her blue eyes went wide as she took in the sight of him in the doorway, her hand running over her sleek gray bob. The flowy black pants and floral buttoned top she was wearing seemed like a strange choice for a Saturday, leaving him with the impression that she was a professional of some kind. But you hadn’t mentioned anyone dropping by.

“Hello,” he smiled pleasantly. “Can I help you?”

“I highly doubt it.” Her words were sharper than seemed necessary considering Steve had never seen this woman before in his life. “Is my daughter-in-law around?”

Shit. So that’s who this was. Justin’s mom and Steve had just answered the door wearing nothing but boxers and a t-shirt on a Saturday morning. That didn’t leave much doubt to what kind of situation this was and he wasn’t sure if this woman even knew about him. Had you told her about him? Or was she being blindsided, having the new guy that had replaced her dead son shoved in her face?

“You must be Mrs. Randall. I…uh…I’m Steve Harrington. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He stammered the words. He would have offered her his hand but his palms were suddenly very sweaty. How did one handle a situation like this?

“Oh, I know exactly who you are. Although why you’re standing in my son’s house in your underwear is quite a mystery to me.”

A nervous laugh rose up in him at her words, her eyes narrowing, head tilted as she studied him. He felt like a specimen under a microscope and judging from the way she was looking at him, he was not measuring up.

“Well, you see…I…well, Y/N and I…I’m guessing she hasn’t told you about me.”

“No. She didn’t but my grandson did. Imagine my surprise when I had to hear from a child that his mother has a new boyfriend.” She gave him a tight smile, the kind people usually displayed when they were trying to hide how they really felt, but this woman did not seem to be trying to hide anything. Disdain was rolling off her in waves so strongly it threatened to knock him off his feet. “You really think it’s appropriate for you to be spending the night this soon? Have you even bothered to consider Eli’s feelings in the matter? How it might make him feel that some man is sleeping in the bed that his mother and father used to share? That doesn’t seem a bit tacky to you?”

Steve opened his mouth, having no idea how he was going to respond but feeling like he needed to. The pressure of a thousand stares, like being on stage waiting to see if you’d nail it or fall flat on your face, was heavy on his chest. But he was saved when you came bouncing down the stairs.

“Something smells good. Did you cook break…” You came to an abrupt stop, hands gripping the towel you'd been drying your hair with when you saw the scene in front of you. Steve in his boxers, looking like a mouse staring down a cat. Judith, the cat, glaring at you both, with her hands on her hips, claws and teeth ready to slash and shred. “Judith…what are you doing here?”

“Well, after Eli dropped that particular very unpleasant and shocking bomb on me yesterday and you refused to talk to me, I decided we needed to have a conversation about this current situation.”

“You could have just called…” you began but Judith quickly cut you off.

“And what? Have you ignore my calls like you so often do? I don’t think so.” Judith stepped around Steve with a wave as if he were nothing but an annoying gnat she was wishing to swat. “No. I think not. I demand an explanation. I believe I am owed that. Precisely why did my grandson tell me that this man, who I don’t even know, who he barely even knows, is going to be his father soon?”

“Shit…” muttered Steve, earning a harsh glare from the woman that reminded him way too much of Mrs. Click from high school. He melted back against the wall, trying to make himself small and invisible to her unapproving gaze.

So this was why she came. She felt her son’s very memory was threatened by the presence of Steve. She thought that you and him were moving too fast. Of course she did if Eli was already talking about Steve being his dad. But it was just that, talk. The kid had been hoping for it before they’d even started dating.

“Mrs. Randall, I think this has just been a really big misunderstanding.”

“Well, I was rather hoping so until I showed up to find you here in your underwear, clearly having spent the night. I mean, really.” She sighed, tossing her arms in the air. “You find this kind of behavior appropriate with a child in the house?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Eli isn’t in the house,” you snapped.

“And where exactly is he?”

“He’s with my ex-wife and her husband,” Steve answered, folding his arms, his confidence returning now that he saw you weren't going to quaver under the glare of this lady.

“Strangers!” shrieked Judith. “You left my grandson with complete strangers?”

“They’re not strangers. I told you, Eli is best friends with Steve’s son, Jeremiah. I know Jeremiah’s mom and her husband. In fact, I was just out with her and some other women last night.”

“Oh! And where was my grandson while you were out living it up and having fun like some teenager with no responsibilities?”

“He was with me. I took care of the boys so she could actually enjoy a night off.” Steve’s sympathy for this woman was quickly waning each time she opened her mouth. “I made them dinner and we played some games and watched a movie. Then Jonathan showed up and offered to take the boys overnight so she and I could have some time alone. I have never slept over when he’s been here.”

“Really? Because according to Eli, you and his mother had a sleepover just last week.”

Your teeth clenched together. “The boys were having a sleepover. We were watching a movie and fell asleep on the couch. Nothing happened.” Your eyes caught Steve’s, the two of you clearly remembering what did happen, what almost happened before you were interrupted, but it was none of this woman’s business. “And whatever happened or didn’t happen isn’t really any of your concern. Eli is my son.”

“He’s my grandson! None of my concern? It’s none of my concern that you’re acting like some rampant whore around him? That you’re just choosing to leave him with strange people so you can run around with your friends and have a good time like you don’t even have a child?”

“Whoa! Hey!” Steve stepped into her, finger pointing at her face. “You have no right to come in here calling her names like that. She is a damn good mom. She’s done all of this herself for a long time and if occasionally she needs a night to herself, she’s more than earned it.”

If someone could actually explode, he was pretty certain this woman would be doing just that right now. Her nostrils flared, eyes blazing, mouth contorted into an ugly sneer as she stared him down.

“Just who in the hell do you think you are?”

“I think I’m her boyfriend. I think I’m her person. The person she’s chosen to have in her life right now. And I think I’m the person who’s not going to stand here and let you talk to her like this. I understand that it has to be hard for you to see her with someone else, to think about another guy being in your grandson’s life. But that’s not a choice you get to make. It’s hers. So unless you’re willing to have a civil conversation and listen then there’s the goddamn door.”

“I tried to help you. I offered to let you and Eli move in with me and you refused and now look at this mess you’ve created.”

“This isn’t a mess. This is my life.”

“And some life it is. I knew when Justin brought you home that he was making a mistake. You whispered all those lies about how much you loved him. I knew you never did.”

Your mouth dropped, a small gasp of pain escaping your lips, making Steve want to smack a woman for the first time in his life. Tears filled your eyes but you straightened your spine, refusing to allow Judith to make you fall apart.

“That was never a lie, Judith. I did love Justin. I still do.”

“You loved him so much that you’re so ready to just replace him and move on. To allow some other man in his house, in his bed, in his role as Eli’s father.”

“There has not been any talk of Steve being Eli’s father,” you argued. “We are dating. There’s not even been talk of moving in together. All of that is coming from Eli. He adores Steve and he’s a kid and he just wants what other kids have. Can’t you see that?”

“He already has a father,” Judith whimpered, quickly losing steam as her grief began to take the wheel from her anger.

“He does and I will never let him forget Justin. We talk about him every night before he goes to bed. I show him pictures and videos. I tell him stories. We order pizza every Friday because it’s what we used to do when Justin was home.” Those tears that had been lingering on your lash line now broke free, spilling down your cheeks as you held your hands out in front of you, begging Judith to understand. “We go to the apple orchard and the pumpkin farm every fall because it was a tradition we started with him. I show him his favorite movies and we listen to his favorite music. Eli knows all the words to The Most Beautiful Girl in the World by Prince and he knows how Justin used to sing it to me every time he’d return from deployment and we’d dance around the living room. Judith, Eli will never forget Justin because I can’t ever forget Justin. You think I don’t grieve for him still? Sometimes it hits me and the pain is so bad that I double over with it. But am I really sentenced to spend the rest of my life alone at thirty-two because the universe was cruel enough to take my happy ending away from me?”

Judith actually looked stunned. In the ten minutes Steve had known her, even he was shocked to find her speechless. This did not seem like a woman who ran out of words.

Then the two women were hugging and crying. He stood to the side, unsure of what to do. He had the equivalent of emotional whiplash. He’d been so angry, ready to storm the castle and defend you to the death if need be, and now it didn’t seem necessary. You clung to each other, sobs shaking your bodies.

“I’m sorry,” Judith sniffed, shaking her head, hands wrapped around your shoulders. “I’m sorry. I just…it’s so unfair that he got taken from us and then to know you’re with…” She jerked her head toward Steve. Well, alright. She might be apologizing but apparently she still wasn’t fond of him. “To know Eli may see someone else as his…I just couldn’t bear it. I fear I will be the only one to remember my son.”

“You won’t.” Your hands found Judith’s forearms, hanging on. “I could never forget him and I will never let Eli forget him. I promise you that. We…we don’t even know what this is yet.” Steve would be lying if he said that didn’t sting just a bit. “It’s so new. Who knows where it’s going but if it moves in that direction, Eli will still know who his dad is. And no matter what happens, you will always be his grandmother and you will always have a place in his life.”

Judith nodded slowly, her fist coming to her mouth. The woman appeared to at least be trying to accept it. Steve wasn’t sure what the history was here. He didn’t know what kind of relationship she and you had in the past but he hoped, if for nothing else than the sake of Eli, that she could.

“Can I…would it be okay if I came into town for his first game?”

“Of course. Eli would love it if you were there.”

Steve wasn’t sure he would. He wasn’t sure he wanted to spend any more time with this woman ever. But this wasn’t his decision. He knew when he started this thing that you came with some baggage. And if the heaviest load was some uptight ex mother-in-law, well, he’d just have to learn to heft it if he planned on sticking around.

“Okay. Well, then…I guess I’ll just go. It’s a long drive back. But maybe I could go pick him up and…”

You cut her off, “Steve and I are picking up the boys and taking them on a bike ride. They’ve been looking forward to it all week. So today isn’t a good day. If you would have called first I could have told you that. I could have told you all of this and saved you the drive.”

“Right. Next time I’ll call as long as you plan on answering.”

“I will answer as long as I’m not busy.”

Judith’s mouth pinched up again, the crying camaraderie apparently forgotten now. Wiping away any sign of weakness or vulnerability with her fingers under her eyes, she straightened her spine and turned for the door. It was disorienting how quickly she looked like she hadn’t just been falling apart, completely reserved once again.

“I will see you in a couple weeks then.”

“See you in a couple weeks.”

And then she was gone. You exhaled, your shoulders and head dropping forward, as if all the strength you'd held in to handle Judith had rushed from you in one breath. Your arms wrapped around your middle, reminding him of Eli after school just yesterday.

Steve stood still, unsure of what to do. Did you want him to comfort you? Did you want him to leave you alone? Should he offer to just head and get the boys and come back for you later so you could have some time to process everything that had just happened?

“I’m sorry.” The words were spoken so softly he almost didn’t catch them. “She loves to sneak up on me at the worst times. I should have seen this coming. She’s been itching to have it out with me ever since Eli told her you were my boyfriend.”

“It’s okay,” he mumbled, shrugging. It wasn’t, not really. He wasn’t sure how he felt after that whole exchange. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” you stated firmly. “I really don’t. Not right now anyway. Can we just eat?” Lifting your head, you pasted on a smile. “That coffee smells amazing and I could really use some right now.”

“Oh…uh…yeah…”

You breezed past him into the kitchen, leaving him standing there wondering what in the hell had just happened and what it meant that you didn’t know what this was between you.

____________________________________________________________

The boys were down on the sand, building a fortress from rocks and driftwood that they collected for their superheroes. It was still far too cold to even consider stepping foot in the water. The day was warm, the sun beating pleasantly down on their skin, but it would take months for the lake to absorb that heat, usually not pleasant enough for a swim until late June or even early July.

You sat on the blanket you'd brought with you to sit on while you enjoyed the picnic lunch that Steve had packed. Sandwich crusts, chip crumbs, and stray blueberries laid forgotten on plates as the boys declared themselves full in favor of running off to play. You took a sip of her iced tea, glancing over at Steve.

After Judith’s impromptu interruption, ruining what otherwise had been an absolutely perfect night and morning, he’d been rather quiet and awkward. He didn’t appear mad but disoriented, like a child who’d fallen off their bike after removing the training wheels and feared getting back on because they didn’t trust themselves. It was like he’d lost his footing and couldn’t find it again. And you knew it was your fault.

Judith just had such a negative impact on you and you were so exhausted from constantly trying to convince the woman that you w were doing a good job of raising Eli. Was it easy? No. Did you screw up a lot? Yes. But at the end of the day your son was happy, healthy, and loved. Wasn’t that what mattered? Why could that never be enough? Why did every decision you ever made have to come into question by a woman whose son joined the military just to get away from her?

“Steve…”

“Hmm?” His head turned toward you and you could see how hard he was working to keep an impassive look on his face, to not show how he was truly feeling. What was he feeling? Was he angry? He had every right to be after the way Judith had treated him, after you yourself had dismissed him, telling him you didn’t want to talk.

“About earlier…”

He cut you off, lifting his hand in front of him, “It’s fine. Really. You said you didn’t want to talk about it so you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s not fine.”

“It is. It’s obviously a tough situation for you that I don’t know anything about so…”

“But you should,” you stated firmly. Rising to your knees, you shifted until you were in front of him, taking both of his hands in your own. “You should. If we’re doing this…being an us, then you should know. Judith is difficult but she is a part of my life and she isn’t going anywhere. She’s Eli’s grandmother and that means that you’re going to have to deal with her sometimes so you should know our history. You should know exactly what you’re walking into.”

“But we don’t even know what this is, right? Isn’t that what you said? We’re not that serious so why do I need to know anything important about you?”

Ouch. His words hit their mark, exactly as he’d meant them to based on the tone he’d used. A missile he’d launched, his own hurt weaponized and aimed directly for you, successfully obliterating its target. You dropped down onto your heels as he pulled his hands back from you. His hand came to the back of his neck, rubbing, as if he could wipe away the tension that had appeared between them.

“Shit. Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“Yes you did.”

“No. I didn’t.” His cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk with a frustrated exhale. “I want to know everything about you. I do. I want to know it all, the good, the bad, and everything in between. I just…when you said that…”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Is that how you feel? That you don’t know what we are? I mean, I guess I just need to know what this is. I thought we were on the same page but maybe we’re not. What do you want here, honey? Is this all just fun for you? Is this a casual thing? Are you serious about us or should I be preparing to have my heart stomped all over?”

Those beautiful eyes were begging you for an answer, for the answer he wanted. And he had it. He had all of you. He had every piece of you that you had to offer. But you didn’t know how much to say. He had no idea how completely gone for him you already were, how you dreamed of the future with him, what it would look like, the four of you together.

Your eyes drifted over to the boys, yelling and giggling as Lex Luthor and his henchmen tried to attack the Fortress of Solitude they’d built from whatever they could find on the beach. You could picture this, days, months, years of this…the two of you sitting back and enjoying your boys together. Watching them grow up, birthday parties and Christmases, Steve helping them with their ties for school dances, teaching them how to drive. Nights together watching movies and playing games. You could see it so clearly in your mind but you were terrified that if you shared all that with him he would leave a blazing path through this forest as he ran as far and as fast as he could.

“Honey?” he prompted when you'd been silent for so long.

“What do you want?” you asked, turning the tables on him, placing the ball in his court.

“What?”

“What do you want from this? Do you see this as something that has a future? Do you see us together six months from now? A year from now? Ten years from now? Or in three months will I be just another in a long line of heartbroken exes?”

Steve reared back as if you'd just slapped him across the face. And maybe it had been an insensitive question but you felt it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Steve had been in numerous relationships throughout his life. Robin had shared that he latched on and fell fast because he was so desperate to be loved. Was that what this was?

You felt like he really liked you, like he truly cared about you. But was it just his past traumas causing him to act like that? Causing him to feel things that weren’t really there yet?

“Do you seriously not know?” he demanded. When you just looked at him, he groaned. “How do you not know how I feel about you? This isn’t even in the ballpark of casual for me. I told you I’ve never felt for anyone the way I feel for you.”

“But how can you be sure? Robin said…”

“Robin said what? That I love too quickly because of my messed up childhood bullshit? Because my parents didn’t love me enough, I’m always looking for it elsewhere?”

“I mean, she may have said something like that.”

“And she’s not wrong. I have in the past. I stayed with Nancy because I was desperate for a family, a real family. I was desperate to make it work, to be successful where my parents weren’t. But I’m not twenty anymore. I’m thirty-two and I am well aware of my faults. I didn’t even see what I was doing then but I do now. I know every relationship I’ve ever had wasn’t really love. It was…I don’t know. Me just settling, searching for something, anything that would make me feel whole. But I’ve never found it. I’ve never felt it until you. I think you’re what I’ve been searching for. I’ve spent my whole life waiting for someone like you.”

This was the second time he’d said that to you and it didn’t fail to rock you to your very core once again. It shook your very foundation to know that this beautiful, perfect man seemed to think that you were the thing he’d been missing in his life, that you were the missing piece to the puzzle that he’d been hopelessly searching for.

Your eyes roamed over his face, the flecks of gold in his eyes brought out by the sun, the freckles like angel kisses lovingly placed on his skin, those plump lips that girls would pay thousands of dollars to have. That word, that damn word, so simple, four letters, one syllable, was driving its way up your throat, desperate to be spoken.

Your hands slid over his jaw, softly, gently, as if you were holding delicate treasure that must be protected, because you were. His Adam’s apple bobbed, the muscles in his neck tensing, as he waited for you to reply to the truths he’d just laid before you.

“This isn’t casual for me either. I…I know my situation is different. I wasn’t searching all my life. I found…but he’s gone and when I lost Justin, I resigned myself to the fact that he was it. He had been my one shot at happiness and love and all that comes with it. But then here you came and you barreled through all of that doubt like a wrecking ball.” Your eyes slipped closed as you willed yourself to have the courage to jump off the edge, to soar through the air with nothing but hope that he would catch you instead of leaving you to hit the ground. “You snuck up on me and there is nothing just fun or casual about this because I…I love you.”

His eyebrows crept toward his forehead, every color in the spectrum dancing through his eyes that were now as wide as the moon and just as spectacular. You held your breath, your teeth worrying over your bottom lip. But then, as if in slow motion, his lips parted, curving into a slow smile that consumed his entire face, those little crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. His fingers slid into your hair, pulling you to him, his forehead pressing against yours as he whispered, “You do?”

“I do. I know it’s really soon. I wasn’t even sure I should say it. I realized it yesterday and it terrified me but it also…I don’t know. It just felt right, like something just shifting into the place it belonged all along. I told myself I wasn’t going to say it, that I was going to wait.” Your eyes squeezed shut nervously. “I was going to wait until you said it and I hope it doesn’t scare you. You don’t have to say it back. I don’t want you to say it because you think you have to. I just…I need you to know that I am all in. I am not going anywhere. I have already dove in way too deep. There’s no going back now.”

“I love you, too.”

“Don’t…please don’t say it just because I…”

“I’m not.” His fingers trailed down over your arms, linking his fingers with yours and bringing your interlocked hands to his chest. “I’m not. I’ve been trying not to say it too. I didn’t want to push you. I know this is hard for you. I know this is the first time you’ve been with anybody since your husband passed. I wanted to take things at your pace, follow your lead. I was waiting for you to say it first. But I do. I love you. I think I’ve loved you ever since that night I brought pizza over. And yeah, that’s crazy and it makes no sense because we barely knew each other but it’s true. I love everything I already know about you and I want to spend my life getting to know everything I don’t.”

“You…your life…?”

“Shit. Was that too much? I’m not about to pull out a ring or anything. I’m not asking you to promise the rest of your life to me. I just…I just meant…”

“Steve,” you laughed, pressing your lips against his to silence him. “No. It wasn’t too much. I know what you meant. I mean, we can’t really say we’re all in if we’re not expecting this to last forever, right?”

“Right.” He grinned, releasing your hands to wrap his arms around you and pull you in close. You sat between his legs, your back nestled into his chest, settling into place right where you belonged as the two of you watched your boys run down the sand.

Chapter 16

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skinnywalker · 1 year

Text

Professional protector (Aaron Hotchner x nanny! male reader)

It's become a slight problem. Most nights it Hotch was late. Some he wasn't home at all and babysitters were only so reliable.

"You're really using Garica to get a other new babysitter?"

"I'm not trust random teens with my boy."

Emily rolls her eyes and pulls away the file of potential names.

"Can't you just hire a full time?"

Hotch groans.

"Same problem."

"Well it's either a once time issue or a till-jack-is-grown issue so make up you mind."

She's right of course, he needs to just bite the bullet.

After nearly an hour of barely scrapable options Hotch's attention was caught by a face.

Young, clean cut, handsome and with a bakround in child care. He gives Hocth a strange stomach twist, the kind he felt in high-school when he meet Harley. That same at once connection.

"Is he free?"

"Looks like it. Says on his employee web page he is open for full weekdays."

"Send that to me would you?"

Garcia can't help the small grin that crosses her lips.

"At once my lord."

From his nightstand the buzz of that familiar notification sounds him awake.

Clients.

He checks the profile his boss Diane always sends but this one is different than normal. He is used to business men who don't have time for their children but the man is an FBI agent and high in ranks too.

Doesn't look half bad either.

"How much is the pay?

"60 an hour."

He stops dead in his track.

"60? For one child and house sitting?"

"Ahuh. He asked me if that was too low."

"Too low?!"

She smiled at him with a gleam I her eyes.

"He really wanted you specifically."

Hotch keep glancing at his watch. He wasn't late but Hotch was nervous he might be.

"Excuse are you Mr. Hotchner?"

He's pretty in person Hotch thinks. More real. More warm. He's bright-looking but not cocky. Fair featured but no vain. He could reach out his hand and Hotch would near before him to kiss it without even thinking.

"Yes, you must be the nanny."

"Ahuh. Would you like to go over the details of what you need me to do while your away?"

Hotch smiles. He has no clue why but it feels natural.

"Of course."

Hotch leads him through the house explain everything he needs from the house care side of things.

"-and if you can't try to fold the blankets to fit in properly I'd be really thankful."

"Of course. What about your son?"

"Jack spends most of the day at school. He still in k-8 and does sometimes need homework help. He can make his own food but often prefers it made. He has 2-3 hours of screen time weekdays and 4 on weekends. He'll want to call me when I'm out of town which you can also do if you need anything."

He nods. Simple kid.

"He always wants to come along on grocery trips and basically anytime you leave the house."

Hotch hands him the house keys.

"And most importantly he'll ask for want he wants and his bedtime is 8:30."

"Got it. I call you at night if I have questions."

"Daddy?"

The two turn to see a sleepy toddler standing in door way. His spider-man pj's frumbled from napping.

"Hey Jack buddy, this is your new babysitter. He'll be here all day till I come back in the evenings so you don't have to be alone at home."

Jack looks up. Hotch feels the two smiling at eachother. His heart is aching know Jack is already bonding with the nanny. This have been a good idea.

"I have to go home today Jack but I'll see you again tomorrow ok?"

"Ok! Can we play with my Lego pirates."

"We can play whatever you want to Jack."

Hotch loves that smile on Jack. The innocent love. His boy is safe.

"Hotch? We have an emergency."

"What is it J.J.?"

"Ten victims all male in their 20s and the unsub is moving."

"I'll be there in ten mintues."

Hotch's body knows the routine of his morning work runs so well it work on autopilot.

Lastly he kisses Jack's sleeping head and text his new nanny 8 words.

"Flying for work for at least a week."

He'll get what I mean Hotch thinks before he stops himself. Why is he so sure? He doesn't even know the guy and he is trusting him like an old friend already. That's not good but Hotch can't seem to stop himself. He doesn't trust easily but something about him is so safe. So at home at ease. Hotch hates how his walls are just gone the moment he met a pretty man who takes care of his son. Hotch hopes he'll stay.

"He's targeting men who seem successful in love. Men with kids and partners and well paying jobs. Young man living how he wants to live. And he does it through robbery and hold ups. He is choosing targets on the fly."

"Where do we thinking he is making his way to?"

"Maybe his home or his get away car. I don't think he can keep this up for too long and I know he thinks that too."

At the hotel Hotch picks up his nightly call.

"How's your nanny been buddy?"

"I love daddy! He is super smart and he knew all about the history for my test on Tuesday and he makes such good pasta and he read me all the books I have trouble with!"

Hotch feel his stomach twist again. Just like a dad.

"That's great buddy. I'm glad you like him so much."

"He is gonna be my new best friend."

"I'm sure he will sweets now you need to good to bed."

"Ok, Goodnight daddy."

"Sleepwell Buddy. I love you."

"Love you too!"

He's safe. He's for the first time Hotch feels confident in thinking that Jack is really safe and happy. He sleeps better that night then he has in a while.

"Unsub is now in Virginia and he's getting risky. Going straight for our home now. He might even be there at this moment."

"So we came out here just to go home?"

"No, we came out here to know for certain he is home. Let's go."

Jack had asked to come along to the Cafe. He had followed his nanny to the counter and was rewarded with a small pink lemonade.

"Have you ever tried limeade or just lemon?"

He shakes his head no.

"Never liked lime. Too sour."

He chuckles.

"I like a lot of sour things especially ones that have some sweet in them."

"Everyone get on the floor! This is a hold up and if everyone behaves no one will get hurt."

Jack looks up confused and then frighten.

"Nanny?"

"Comere Jack. Everything will be alright."

"We've tracked him to a Cafe he's holding up. Swat is on their way but we don't time on our side."

"How fast can we get there?"

"20."

"20 is not fast enough."

"You, with the blonde kid. Move up here."

His arms wrap around Jack and gently lead them both to the front.

"Give him to me."

"No."

His breathing hitches.

"I'm not letting you near him. You'll have to take me first."

The click of the handriffle echoed in his ears before he felt the the world go black.

When the room came back into focus he realized he was in the ER. His chest was burning. He could feel the dizziness bringing him in and out of blurry awareness.

"Hey, just rest, you're really injured."

"Jack.. what about Jack?"

"He's safe with his father."

A knock at the door interrupts them.

"Hello Doctor is it OK for me to see him?"

"Mr. Hotch? Is that you?"

Hotch leans over the hospital bed brush some hair.

"How are you feeling?"

"I've been worse."

"Worse than shot?"

He giggled even though it hurt.

"Yeah. I'm better knowing Jack is safe."

"He was really scared for you, so was I. You don't know how much it means to me that you put yourself in such danger for my boy."

"I'd do it again."

Hotch felt strange. On one hand he was deeply relieved that he was safe but such a close call had his nerves in a twist. It was like a weight had been added to his psyche. Hotch couldn't let anything happen to him. He felt protective.

"How is he?"

"Exhausted but ok."

"Hotch I know he is just your nanny but you seem pretty worried."

"I can't help but be. He nearly died keeping Jack safe. I don't know what could've happened if I hired someone less bare. This whole time I've felt so.... connected with him. Like he is someone who I can trust."

"Does Agent Aaron Hotchner have a slight crush."

Oh no.

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x male reader #aaron hotchner x male reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds x male reader #criminal minds x reader

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immajustvibehere · 10 months

Text

Spark (7/8)

Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader - Enemies to Lovers

Chapter 7 summary: You and Arthur spend some time in Strawberry together. Your relationship develops. It's only when you get home that one incident after another seem to separate you.

link to my masterlist

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6

5400 words, 30 minutes reading time

You awoke to the twittering of birds, their song gently piercing through the silence the awakening nature. You felt stiff and cold as you turned on the hard forest floor. Your head had rested on the bedroll, but this had done nothing for your back, which ached in pain. As you sat up, a familiar weight slipped off your body. It was Arthur's jacket. He must have covered you with it at some point during the night, you hadn't noticed. The man itself crouched in front of a fire, tending to its flames with a stick.

"Morning", Arthur greeted as his gaze shifted from the fire to meet your eyes.

You responded with a grunt, stood up and handed him his jacket so you'd have your hands free for a satisfying stretch.

"Slept well?", you asked under the cracking of your joints.

"Well enough", Arthur shrugged.

You sat down again and watched as Arthur set up some coffee. All of this went without saying. It was a bit awkward how you eyed each other occasionally. It was a bit uncomfortable, as you didn't know where this conversation would turn and you really hoped it would stay light and happy, though there were so many grave things to discuss.

"How long do ya plan on layin' low?", Arthur asked after he handed you the cup of coffee. You didn't have any cutlery with you, so it seemed like you and Arthur would have to share that cup.

"Couple of days", you said, "four, maybe?"

"Ya think we should stick together for a while?", Arthur asked. He was hesitant to ask, still not entirely sure if you'd reject him eventually.

"If it suits you", you answered, a hint of relief evident in your voice. In truth, you had never planned it to be any other way. You wouldn't mind running around alone, but the circumstances were different now. Your stitches needed taking out, you had no spare clothes, food or money on you and your mind wasn't in the best place at the moment. You'd much rather Arthur stays by your side.

"Sure. We should go to a town, though. I ain't planning to sleep in the dirt for that long", Arthur complained.

"What do you mean? Getting old?", you teased.

"Wasn't my bones that woke up half the wild-life with them cracking", Arthur grinned.

"Fair enough...", you smiled and exhaled. The teasing felt comfortable, it's what you have known for the last weeks and in a way, you preferred that method of showing that you cared. It was easier. You didn't have to expose yourself too much.

"Strawberry shouldn't be too far", Arthur pondered.

"Sure, why not", you said. You handed the steaming coffee cup to Arthur and observed how he placed his lips where yours had been a minute ago. It had done a solid job of warming your chilled bones. "Why don't we rob a couple of fellas on the way? I'd use some money for clothes and a stay at the hotel”, you suggested.

"Ain't necessary, I got some money on me", Arthur dismissed your proposal.

"Ya telling me to rob you instead, or to just submissively accept you covering my expenses?", you asked.

"I'd prefer the latter option", Arthur said sarcastically.

"I don't plan to be in your debt, Morgan."

Arthur raised an eyebrow: "You might have saved my life earlier. This ain't about being in my debt, y/n. This is not usually how those things work, you know?" Arthur chuckled at the thought that you wouldn't accept his favours, despite...well, you weren't in a relationship yet, but he hoped it was heading in this direction.

"Fine then...Strawberry's half a day’s ride. Let's go then."

The weather was nice for a ride. The crisp air carried the lingering freshness of last night’s rain, while the sun tried its best to dry the damp grass and trees. The last wafts of mist disappeared, as the sun rose higher in the sky. You would have enjoyed the ride a lot, weren't it for the turmoil within your mind. The uncertainty of the situation overwhelmed you. On the one hand, you felt like you had to address the feelings you had for Arthur. You watched him ride, reins held casually in one hand, the other nonchalantly swaying by his side.

On the other hand, there was Micah. He had planned something. You knew very well he was in Dutch's favour, and you also knew he is a man that was willing to do whatever it takes for survival and money. Somehow, you didn't want to tell Arthur. It might overcomplicate the matter, you weren't sure how things would turn out.

"You ain't tellin' me what's on your mind, am I right, darlin'?", Arthur disrupted your thinking. The pet name made you stiffen up a bit and you couldn’t help but feel a blush rise to your cheeks.

"It’s not that important…I’m just thinking", you lied.

"I understand", Arthur’s voice was laced with empathy and understanding, "Ain't gonna pressure you."

You smiled; you were glad about that. This was new, a partner by your side who didn’t pry.

"It's just difficult to trust you, Morgan. I'm riding unarmed, I feel like I’m damn naked", you admitted with a grin, cursing that your guns were back at camp. One of those guns being Arthur's older one. Remembering this, you cursed yourself, because you had started to cherish it a lot…it had become something of sentimental value to you, and its absence was keenly felt. You saw Arthur stirred in his saddle bags before he handed you a holster and a gun.

"You carrying a whole arsenal with you?", you quipped as you secured the holster around your waist and settled the gun within it.

"Damn right, but I expect this one back, you hear?", he said with a wry smile on his face.

Midday had past when you arrived Strawberry. Arthur handed you a couple dollars, insisting you use them to get some new clothes. You agreed that a big blood stain probably didn’t give the best first impression when you tried to go unnoticed. The general store didn't offer to much of a variety, but you found a blouse you were happy with. Your pants were fine. Arthur rode ahead to the Welcome Centre, arranging a bath and a room. Arthur had convinced you to take a bath, saying it would be more sanitary to take out the stitches after your skin around the area had been cleaned.

As you entered the hotel, the clerk warmly greeted you, informing that the water had been warmed up and was ready for your use. You headed straight for the bathroom. You had to admit that your last bath was some time ago, so it did feel good to immerse yourself in warm water. The remnants of the O’Driscoll’s blood that had managed to elude your previous wash in the creek only fuelled your desire to scrub every inch of your skin.

Drying yourself off and dressed in the clean blouse you had purchased earlier, you did feel very much renewed – especially after the long ride you’ve had.

When you entered the room that Arthur had arranged, your eyes fell upon him sitting on the edge of the bed, tending to his spurs.

"Should we get the stitches out?", Arthur asked. His question hung in the air for a while and was accompanied by a sigh of resignation that escaped your lips.

"Yeah...sure,” you gave in and took a seat on the bed.

"Ya could do it yerself, ya know? Ain't that hard."

Yor uncertainty must have been evident when you glanced at Arthur. The pain of the night he had stitched you up came back. The white glaring agonizing pain that almost had you pass out and scream muffled cries into a cloth pressed between your teeth. The memory caused a shiver of unease to travel down your spine.

"I don't know...", you admitted.

"Under the premise that you won’t accuse me of prudishness and making selfish advances, I can do it for you, if yer so kind as to lift yer shirt for me", Arthur grinned boyishly, reminding you of words you had said yesterday.

You sighed and lied down on the bed, exposing your stitched scar to Arthur. You closed your eyes, reading yourself for some pain.

"You really never had stitches, did ya?", Arthur’s voice cut through the silence.

Your answer was the release of a tense breath, before you felt Arthur's warm touch on your flesh, resting just above your hip. He took out some tweezers. Soon, you felt a slight tugging sensation that was done after five seconds. When Arthur turned away, you knew he was done. There was this cocky smile on his face when you looked at him.

"You son of a bitch!", you cursed as you sat up, your voice was laced with playful anger, "Why didn't you tell me it doesn't hurt?"

"Liked yer submissive face, 's all", Arthur said nonchalantly.

You stared at him in utter disbelief.

"I'll fucking skin you alive the moment I get the chance", you mumbled, your gaze suggesting an attack any moment.

Chuckling lightly, Arthur met your threat with a playful glimmer in his eyes: "Sure, I'd like to see ya try, Missy.”

You went into attack position.

"Will ya try to knock me off my feet?", Arthur asked, hands resting on his hip. Your stance suggested you’d tackle him any moment, he found it quite amusing.

"I won't try. I will do."

"What are we betting for? A kiss?", Arthur suggested.

"Your life, cowpoke."

By now, you couldn't contain the huge grin that had formed on your mouth. This sort of friendly banter had been going on for the last couple of weeks, though the mention of a kiss had introduced a new dynamic. Memories came up from last night and how you avoided him after he had kissed until you had sorted your thoughts. It wasn't that you lacked trust in Arthur specifically; rather, it was a matter of your own guarded nature, a reluctance to place your trust in anyone.

Despite your reservations, you did feel safe around him. You gave up your competitive stance and settled back down on the bed.

"You'll have to earn that next kiss", you declared, a mix of playfulness and sincerity in those words. It was more in a manner of finally addressing the issue, than actually binding it to conditions. You weren't sure if Arthur understood that you were so hesitant, not because you lacked in desire for him, but from fear of disappointment.

"I'll do whatever you want me to, my lady", Arthur replied mockingly.

"How about some food?", you asked with a smile, "Here. That's the money I've left from my shopping tour earlier." You fished a couple dollars from your bag, but Arthur shook his head.

"Keep it, ya gonna need it sooner or later. I still got some money for dinner."

So, Arthur headed out for the general store and returned ten minutes later with enough dried meats and fruits to last you a week.

You lied down, staring at the ceiling. Now this was going to be awkward. You weren't that tired yet and Arthur also didn't seem too determined to head to bed just yet. But he still sat on his side of the bed and got his journal out.

"Ya don't mind me drawin', do ya?", Arthur asked politely and opened an empty page in the journal.

"No", you answered honestly and sat up too, "can I watch?"

"Sure", Arthur said, "'s there something specific you want me to draw?"

"Remember that waterfall we passed on the ride?"

"You mean Cumberland Falls?"

"Mhm", you nodded.

"'course", and in barely a minute Arthur had outlined the most important features of the landscape. You couldn't have recalled the scenery any better, you had not the slightest doubt that every tree was placed correctly.

Arthur took his time with the drawing because he noticed, as time went by, that your body started to slump against his. Just as he had added all the shadows he had wanted to, he heard your heavy, steady breathings. The subtle scent that enveloped you was intoxicating, and the softness of your features in the warm glow of the oil lamp fascinated him. Your features looked so peaceful and inviting, Arthur wanted to bury his head in your arms. But he resisted the urge in order not to disturb your sleep.

Slowly, he draped an arm around your shoulder, pressing you gently against him as heshifted your position from sitting to a more comfortable lying position. He halted, his heart pounding when you opened your eyes. 'Please don't flinch away, please don't reject me' he thought. But you didn't, you smiled slightly and snuggled up to him. It was at this very moment, that Arthur had felt an amount of hope he had never felt before. It was a profound sense of possibility that he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

The second day had passed in Strawberry with the soon soon to be disappearing behind the mountains. As the day before, you sat on the bed and Arthur opened his journal. You watched as his pencil wrote words that you couldn’t read. The least you could do it appreciate how handsome his handwriting looked.

"Y/N woke me early today. I thought lying low meant a break from the work and chores - but no. She wants to gather some money so she can say she followed a lead and not saved me from the O'Driscolls. We went fishing and hunting. I shot a cougar, pelt was real fine. Also some birds for feathers. The post clerk gave us a hint for a stage we can rob tomorrow."

You noticed when Arthur had finished the text, as his pencil wasn’t moving on the paper anymore and the last line he had set looked very final. You sat up a little in anticipation of a drawing: “What are you going to draw?”

“Maybe the cougar?”

You didn’t need to reply, Arthur had already started with the outline of the animal.

"Third Day of lying low in Strawberry.

We was told the stage coach is best robbed quietly. Of course, y/n wanted to just start shooting. I convinced her to use dynamite. We were done with the guards quickly and the take was ok. I also remembered a fella telling me about Watson's house. We robbed the old hag blind. She had a shotgun stored away, I offered it to y/n but apparently it’s “too uncivilized and not her style”."

“It’s rude to stare”, Arthur remarked and shot you a glance as you were sitting on the chair in the corner, “Come here.” Arthur patted the bed next to him.

“No. Stop telling me what I should do”, you said. Your tone was annoyed but Arthur knew that you didn’t mean to offend. You had been a little pissed earlier when you had a disagreement on how to rob the stagecoach, but this was different. He knew you were teasing as a way of punishing him for interrupting your thoughts.

“I know you want to come here. I’m gonna start drawing without you”, Arthur carefully arranged the pillow so you could sit next to him.

He was right. And you weren’t sure if you liked that or if you wanted to grant him this little win. You supressed a smile: “I hate you.”

“Yer doing an awful job of showing it, so I doubt it”, Arthur chuckled.

You sighed and stood up to walk over to the bed: “I did at first. But it’s harder to hate you if all I thought was despicable about you…turns out I don’t despise it so much.”

“It’s what Micah told you about me before we even met, got that right?”, Arthur said, content to see you settled next to him. He started a sketch of the view you had on the ridge when you waited for the stagecoach.

You nodded and rested your head against Arthur’s arm: “You did exceed my expectations.”

“The bar couldn’t have been too high if you believed everything Micah’s told ya”, Arthur said. He handed you the tobacco and paper and let you roll a cigarette while he sketched on. When you struck a match and a little spark flew on Arthur’s journal, he brushed it away without a care, not saying a word of or cursing you for being inattentive.

The deafening roar of thunder roused you from your slumber and startled you awake in the early hours of the morning. As you slowly gained consciousness, you wondered how the torrential downpour outside hadn’t stirred you earlier. The raindrops were big and heavy and pounded merciless upon the rooftop and the window glass.

You crawled out of bed and made your way to the window. Despite the darkness with heavy clouds covering moon and starts, you could still make out the gushes of water that were coming down the skies.

"Good thing you suggested stabling the horses", you mumbled, your words almost swallowed by the overwhelming noise.

Arthur grumbled and turned in bed, he was barely awake: "Ya coming back to bed?"

His voice was drowsy. The cold air was getting to you quickly, and you regretted leaving the warmth of the bed in first place. Turning around, you gazed upon Arthur’s form, dimly illuminated by the soft glow of the flickering oil lamp at the room’s corner.

In that moment, it struck you. This was the first time you truly realised that you shared a room - a bed with a man who you had come to trust. You liked him a lot. And despite having more than one opportunity, spending pretty much every waking hour with you the last three days, he hadn't tried to make a move. He was being very respectful, only ever putting his arm around you when the opportunity was right, but never ever pushing for more proximity. It was a level of consideration and restraint that surprised and touched you deeply. Probably because you weren’t used to it.

"Y/N it's getting cold...", Arthur mumbled, referring to the empty spot in the bed next to him. As you approached bed again, Arthur shifted to the spot you had vacated, a cold patch of linen that he now warmed with his body. Half aspleep, he pulled back the blanket, inviting you to take his still-warm place beside him.

Without saying something, and probably barely registering what he was even doing, Arthur tugged you in and then spooned you, his head conveniently finding the curve of your neck. Your heart rate picked up; you hadn't been so close before.

It was a weird sensation to have someone breath hot air down your neck, his arm was snaked around you, leaving you no room for escape. However, the coldness you had felt out of bed soon was gone, replaced by the warmness that radiated from Arthur’s body. It calmed you down. You got used to the sensation of his breath on your neck. Gradually, you grew accustomed to the sensation of his breath against your neck. Heck, you even started to like it. You tried to synchronize your own breaths with his. Soon, with Arthur’s warmth and steady breathing, sleep reclaimed you.

The white noise of rain falling was still present when you opened your eyes again some hours later. You had turned onto your back; Arthur wasn't spooning you anymore. When you turned your face to his, his eyes tiredly blinked back to you. You wanted to sit up, but Arthur quickly caught your arm and held it: "You ain't dragging me out of bed so early today."

You looked out of the window. The sky had turned grey, and the rain was still falling.

"Wasn't planning to...", you mumbled.

After what felt like an eternity of lying still and counting the boards on the ceiling, you turned your face to Arthur. He was lying on his side, turned towards you. His eyes fluttered open as if he had felt your gaze on him. He watched you as you shuffled closer ever so slightly. You weren't even sure what was it that pulled you closer to him, but with your heart pounding relentlessly, you finally closed the distance between the two of you. Your lips met tenderly for a very slow and drowsy kiss. Arthur savoured every second of it.

Unconsciously, his hands wandered up to your face and he halted only a moment before he would have cupped your cheek. He wasn't sure if you'd want that. But he did feel a bit awkward when the kiss ended, and his hand lingered in the air over you in an unaddressed manner. Your cheeks were clearly flushed, and Arthur's eyes showed hope and surprise.

"Your beard needs a trim", you commented sheepishly.

"Yes ma'am", Arthur replied, a smile forming on his lips. This time, he was the one who closed the distance, finding the courage to place his hand on your cheek, cupping it gently. The second kiss was longer and more passionate. You had no intention of backing out. It felt like having your first kiss all over again, with the butterflies in your stomach going wild.

It was over sooner than you hoped, but Arthur went on to pepper your cheeks and neck with little kisses, his beard tickling quite a bit in the process. Then he stopped and simply lied down in his initial position, next to you on his back. Though your hand found his and held it loosely, just to ensure some touch between you.

"Sorry I wasn't ready sooner", you said.

"What are ya even talking about?", quipped Arthur.

"Just...making you wait and all tha-"

"You didn't make me wait", he quickly established, "Who said that I was ready? I wasn't ready either. Hell, I don't even know if I was ready now because my brain feels like it has been smashed on a wall. And I have you to blame you for that!"

"You do know how to make a lady feel special", you chuckled.

"Sure", Arthur snorted, "keep tellin' yaself that if that means I get to kiss ya again."

You grinned sheepishly, sat up and leaned over Arthur to give him another kiss. It just felt so safe to do it. The way he still held your hand, caressing the back of it with his thumb. He was entirely at your mercy, his blue eyes scanning your face the moment you moved away, pleading for another kiss which you readily granted.

"We won't ride back to camp today, huh", you said after a while, watching the rain.

"No, no use for that. We'll just drown in mud."

When you got out of bed, Arthur hurried to get his pants on, leaving you to guess what that haste was all about. The welcoming centre, as it so happened, was filled with a bunch of people. Your room neighbour and two other men who had found refuge from the storm here at night. Breakfast was shared and someone had brought a deck of cards. You and Arthur mingled with the group, playing Poker and Blackjack pretty much the entire day. Sometime after lunch it had stopped raining. Before evening, the sun was coming out from behind the clouds.

It was later decided that you'd head back to camp right now, traveling through the night and probably arrive early in the morning. There'd almost be a day between you and Arthur coming back, as not to raise suspicion that you spent the time together. You walked to the stables together, boots covered in wet soil when you said:

"At camp...you know that we can't..."

Arthur sighed and lit himself a cigarette: "I know. Micah's the problem, isn't he?"

"He'd kill us both if he found out", you mumbled, a hundred percent believing the words you had just said.

"Would rid the world of some filth for sure", Arthur joked and earned an arm slap.

"Didn't mean you, darlin'. Yer an angle", he teased.

He then watched you saddle your horse. You checked if you've got the money. Hunting, robbing and gambling had brought you a take of almost 200 dollars, enough to count as a solid lead and to excuse your long absence.

"See ya tomorrow", you said.

"Don't get yourself killed on the ride back."

"Mhm", you grinned, "You neither. Without me protecting you."

Arthur had the most beautiful smile, you realised. He had grinned and shook his head as response to your answer. It made you unbelievably happy. And then you rode off.

When you rode up to Clemen’s point, it was Charles on guard duty. You acknowledged this with relief, because out of everybody, he'd not be someone to plague you with questions.

"Y/n, we worried about you", he said, his voice laced with true compassion.

"Yeah...I'm fine", you smiled awkwardly.

"Where've you been?", he asked so innocently, a question stemming from pure curiosity.

"Ehrm...out and about. Hard to explain, really..."

"When's Arthur coming?"

"What?"

"Arthur. He was with you, wasn't he?", Charles asked. The innocence seemed to be replaced by an air of knowledge. He knew, somehow, he knew. You were aware that he was a great observer...but this good?

"I...don't know", you lied. But seeing Charles' raised eyebrows, you sighed in defeat: "He'll be back by tomorrow morning."

Charles nodded in acknowledgement.

"Guess I figured out why you had a change of heart", he said with a smile. It was a subtle hint towards your changing attitude at camp.

"Mr. Smith", you grumbled warningly.

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. But you should come up with a proper excuse, because Miss Grimshaw is furious you disappeared."

Turns out that not even 200 dollars could get you out of a scolding. You had to hear all of it. Sneaking away, disregarding your healing process, not being present to support the gang. Anyone who walked by or overhead your scolding was quite sympathetic. Even Dutch patted you on the shoulder when he walked you over to the donating box and watched you put the money inside.

To make up for your days away, you were put to work immediately. You had to help manage the horses and soon were sent off to a mission with Micah. It’s safe to say that when Arthur arrived at camp in the afternoon, you were exhausted from a night without sleep and a day full of work. It left no time to catch up with Arthur or asking him about his travels. You overslept the next morning, missing the little window which you usually shared with him, talking about your day and drinking coffee.

You weren’t sure how you had imagined it, but there was barely a minute in which you and Arthur were alone. And then, suddenly, events started to happen one after another. You went to town with the boys, found it deserted and one minute later you had the brains from the Irish boy all over your face. You had barely returned and helped to bury his still warm body, when the message spread that Jack had been taken by some Braithwaites.

When more guns were needed to get the boy back, you offered yourself willingly, fuelled by rage. You loved Jack. You had played with him so often that the thought of him gone was sickening. You understood Abigail’s fears and yet you tried to be somewhat restrained, because Micah was there and he’d certainly frown at your behaviour. But there was no Micah at the manor, so when you still kicked in doors after the place had caught fire, Arthur was suddenly by your side, urging you to leave the house.

“We sure he ain’t here?!”, you said, still ripping open closets.

“Yes. Come on, y/n”, Arthur put a hand on your shoulder and guided you out. Maybe, if he hadn’t been there to collect you, you would have been buried in the rubbles of this place with the wretched mother.

Then you moved to Shady Belle.

Jack was back with you within a week. You helped Grimshaw and Arthur to get Tilly back and stabbed the Foreman when Arthur didn’t deem it necessary.

“Tilly wanted him to tell his stupid gang-“

“His corpse will tell enough”, you answered.

Then Arthur was busy with the mayor, with robbing a boat, and finally, Shady Bell was attacked by the O’Driscolls. You watched in awe as Sadie butchered more O’Driscolls than you managed to get in front of your guns.

The only time you and Arthur had some time alone away from camp is when he had you tag along to help the Indians.

It was a young man named Eagle Flies who greeted you on a hill with a nice view on the oil factory. “You came”, he stated.

“’course I came. Said I would”, Arthur mentioned as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You took a friend with you, I see?”, Eagle Flies looked at you a bit sceptically.

“She’s back-up”, Arthur explained.

“Hope we won’t need that”, Eagle Flies commented before he explained to Arthur what he needed to steal.

You were left behind with the native as Arthur hid in the back of the waggon to sneak into the place. You didn’t say much, only listened to a couple of words he told you about the situation he and his people was in. Barely half an hour later, Arthur was back with the papers he was told to steal.

You hurried up to Arthur’s room, using it as an opportunity that Micah wasn’t at camp and everybody else was busy with planning the details of the heist. You intently knocked on the door.

“Yes”, Arthur replied. He knew that it wasn’t Marston or Miss Grimshaw, because they never had bothered to knock. But when he saw you come in and swiftly closing the door behind you, his shoulders relaxed and his lips curled into a smile. “Y/N”, he breathed, relieved to see you and happy that this meant you had a moment together, alone.

“Hey”, you replied briefly, “Are you okay, Arthur? Are you sure about this bank heist?”

Your uncertainty irritated Arthur, but he’d try to reassure you that they had a plan. You had been assigned to stay at camp and to take care of the rest of the people, in case anything went wrong.

“It’s Hosea’s planning and I trust him when it comes to things like that”, Arthur said.

“I have robbed my fair share of city banks, and it always ends with half of my partners dead or captured”, you said, your shoulders slouching. You hadn’t been able to think about anything else since the idea had first come up.

“It’s risky, sure. But I think we are prepared”, Arthur nodded and looked at you. Arthur felt how uneasy you were though it had been some time since you last had intimate contact, Arthur gently pulled you into a hug. You wouldn’t have admitted it if he’d asked, but you had needed this. Carefully, you nestled your head against his chest and felt his hands roam your back, caressing it.

“If this works…we’ll soon get some more time for ourselves. Thing’s have been happening so fast the last weeks…”, Arthur murmured. It didn’t go unnoticed how you pressed Arthur tightly in your arms, your fingers dug through the clothes and into his flesh. There was this sense of fear in you, and despite his reassuring words, you couldn’t quite shake it. You had to push yourself away and stand on your tiptoes to press a gentle kiss on his lips.

“What was that for? Good luck for tomorrow?”

“That was for me”, you answered cheekily, a smile appearing on your lips.

Despite preparations, despite it being Hosea’s plan and not Dutch’s…it went wrong. Arthur didn’t dwell on it for long, he was occupied with surviving and getting off the damn island. He had lost a sense of awareness of how long they had been gone, and was eager to rejoin the gang, yearning to see your face again. He hadn’t thought about it…no he hadn’t even considered it that you might not be there. His gaze scanned the crammed room and he only mumbled your name out of fear of finding out something has happened.

It was Miss Grimshaw who spoke up: “Miss y/l/n left. Shortly after Molly, a couple of days ago.”

Arthur didn’t believe it. Only after he caught Charles’ eyes which seemed to confirm it.

“A rat fleeing a sinking ship…”, Micah commented through gritted teeth, “Should never have introduced her…”

Dutch was about to express his disapproval, when the Pinkertons arrived.

-x-x-x-x-x-x

Phew, sorry if it's a bit messy. Had to cover a lot of ground to make it end on a cliff hanger =)

taglist: @xclovers @photo1030 @cowboydisaster @stilinskiwitch @globetrotter28 @unbotheredbeeeee @eyelovie @ashjbu @lovrgirlsstuff @how-the-heck-would-i-know @j4llyf7sh @urfavjanalein @thatonestrangebird

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption community #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr #rdr fanfiction

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stylesharrys · 1 year

Note

Can you do a blurb where reader has to go back to work after maternity pls I am also pregnant and would love to see some realistic pregnancy stuff x

Also this is a Tom request.

A/N: excited for all these pregnancy stuff that’s in my inbox, love a good tom blurb too!

// You’ve been putting off having the conversation for a little while now, not quite knowing how to approach it where part of you just doesn’t want to.

It’s been almost eleven months since you left work for maternity leave and there’s only a couple of weeks left before you’re expected back at your wonderful job to resume your executive role.

And you love your job, wholeheartedly. It’s an entire career you’ve invested years of your life into, something you’re incredibly proud to have accomplished so far for yourself.

But things have changed. You’re not just a marketing executive. You’re also a mother to a ten month old baby girl, and the idea of leaving her home so you can go back to work is tearing you apart.

You’ve grown so attached and accustomed to your lazy mornings together and hectic afternoons trying to get the house in order. You’re going to miss your early afternoon walks and snuggles on the sofa, and the spontaneous naps when the day seems to be dragging a little more than usual.

Staring down at her little face as she sways herself in her bouncer, your heart begins to clench. You don’t want to leave her, not to go into the office for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week again.

Of course, Tom’s tried to reassure you that you don’t have to go back to work until you’re ready, but your bank balance says otherwise along with the fat OVERDUE stamp on your water bill.

Tom has a very well paying job, four nights on, two off, travelling a lot but the money is good. Money was even better when you was still at work, you both had a very comfortable salary to live on.

But with the comfortable money comes the expensive things. Like Tom’s new car and your new house. It was easy when you were both working, but being on maternity meant Tom was only one able to provide financially.

You managed to get two months full pay at the start of your maternity, and then the rest was barely a quarter of your regular wage. It’s safe to say that financially, it’s been tough and Tom’s had to work extra shifts to pick up the financial slack that you can’t.

He’s overworked, that’s for sure. It only seems fair that you return as quickly as you can, when he’s provided for the last eight months with little rest or days off.

But the idea of leaving her… of allowing your mothers to take turns in caring for her while you’re off at work isn’t something you want to think about.

“Babe, it’s fine. We can make it work for another couple of months or so.”

You could cry. You love him, truly, but you just wish he’d be more honest with how much he’s struggling to keep up.

You shake your head, pulling your laptop back from him. “We can’t make it work for another couple of months. We’re barely making it work now.”

Tom doesn’t say anything, just purses his lips and folds his hands on top of the table. He doesn’t want you to feel forced to go back to work, but he could also do with a hand or a day off.

“I’ll put a request in for 30 hours a week, rather than my regular 40. At least then, my pay will be doubled and after she gets in the swing of me being back at work, I can up my hours again in a couple months time.”

Tom reaches for Paisley, bringing her to sit on his knee as she smashes her teething ring on the edge of the table.

“Do you want me to speak to Mum about set days with Pais, split them between your Mum so they both get time with her?” Tom suggests.

You let out a sigh, nodding. “Maybe invite them both round for dinner tomorrow to sort it out, it might be easier with your Mum's shift work.”

Tom nods, setting a kiss to the top of Paisley’s head.

“We’ll make it work, darling.”

You smile, reaching for both their hands. “We always do.”

#tom holland #tom holland blurb #tom holland imagine #imagine tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland oneshot #tom holland imagines #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #dad!tom

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voxofthevoid · 28 days

Text

Posting Schedule: April & May 2024

I'm merging the months since the April anniversary project has outgrown April rather egregiously. It is funny how I said just last month that I'm cutting down my updates to four a month, and now we have eight each for these two months. But to be fair, the word count is pretty much the same because these are shorter fics (...mostly).

April:

2. Chapter 1/1 of the history book on the shelf is always repeating itself

JJK; goyuu; When Yuuji’s fifteen, Gojou Satoru dies; when Yuuji’s seventeen, Gojou Satoru is born.

6. Chapter 1/1 of (it wasn't hard to realize) love's the death of peace of mind

JJK; goyuu; When a blip in time lands sixteen-year-old Satoru in the future, he finds himself in possession of a cursed object sporting his own eyes and a grieving boy who can’t look away from those eyes.

12. Chapter 1/2 of because the negative sex was born into a bloodline

JJK; kenita; Yuuji makes reasonable assumptions about the handsome man stalking him. Kenjaku gets to enjoy the fruits of their labor.

14. Chapter 1/1 of caught the teacher giving his eyes to a student

JJK; goyuu; Megumi finds out that Gojou’s been giving Yuuji some hands-on sex education.

19. Chapter 1/1 of will we remain stuck in the throat of gods

JJK; sukuita with past!goyuu; A bad breakup isn’t a good excuse to fuck the monster rotting your soul, but Yuuji’s made worse decisions—probably.

23. Chapter 1/1 of this was something you incited, you opened up and invited

JJK; goyuu; Satoru learns why most alphas don’t fuck other alphas.

26. Chapter 1/1 of we can be anything we want to be (make shit up and live it completely)

JJK; goyuu; An offhand comment leads to Yuuji discovering the dubious joys of pet ownership.

30. Chapter 1/1 of this is the wrong story

JJK; goyuu; In a faraway forest enclosed in Brahmic barriers, there’s a boy who loves and hates the world in equal measure.

May

3. Chapter 1/1 of vulgarity (the glory and the virtue died so long ago)

JJK; goyuu; Yuuji’s hormones battle his morals while his half-naked teacher sleeps on his lap.

8. Chapter 1/1 of somebody ought to corrupt you on the dance floor and take you home

JJK; hiita; A wardrobe malfunction drastically alters the aftermath of Yuuji’s fight with Higuruma.

10. Chapter 1/1 of never seen such a pretty wicked thing

JJK; goyuu; Satoru has a late-night philosophical discussion with the King of Curses.

15. Chapter 2/2 of because the negative sex was born into a bloodline

JJK; kenita; Yuuji makes reasonable assumptions about the handsome man stalking him. Kenjaku gets to enjoy the fruits of their labor.

19. Chapter 1/1 of i'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies

JJK; goyuu; Satoru’s ward is in that peculiar purgatory between puberty and presentation. He tries to help.

23. Chapter 1/1 of you're like a goddess in disguise (i'm drowning slowly in your eyes)

JJK; fem!goyuu; Yuuji finds religion in her teacher’s tits, violently.

26. Chapter 1/1 of but lover, you're the one to blame

JJK; goyuu; Yuuji acquires a doll that’s sympathetically connected to Satoru. It’s innocent until it isn’t.

31. Chapter 1/7 of i can offer you a black-lit paradise

JJK; itagofushi; Satoru plays favorites with his students in the worst way possible. Megumi suffers, while Yuuji’s oblivious—and horny.

The dates are tentative, the order isn't set in stone, and I am about to become void soup.

If anything's repeated or mismatched, ignore for now. I'll look over this again when these fic titles/dates aren't at risk of setting my eyes on fire.

#posting schedule #goyuu #sukuita #hiita #kenita #itagofushi #vox unhinged

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rallamajoop · 11 months

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Resident Evil 4 vs 8, and Ludonarrative Resonance

Having fallen so very hard for RE8 late last year, I’m incapable of talking about the new RE4 remake without comparing the two – especially when RE8 now occupies the bizarre position of being simultaneously the remake’s immediate predecessor, canonical-later-sequel, and also other pseudo-remake of RE4.

And it’s hard to appreciate just how much RE8 draws from RE4 until you’ve played them both – in broad concept (sinister bioweapon cult in isolated European village, lengthy castle section, awkward shift towards military-shooter-itis at the end – heck, did you know RE8 was even supposed to have Ada Wong showing up with a sniper rifle to rescue Ethan from cutscenes in early drafts? Because that was definitely going too far) and its initial chapter especially. I’d osmosed the broad strokes, but not, for example, the degree to which the first lycan attack in 8 is basically just the first village assault from RE4: mobbed by an endless stream of regular enemies and the one big guy (who you can defeat, but should probably just try to avoid) in an open environment until an invisible timer runs out and everyone goes home.

It’s not a one-way street: it’s only fair to say that by the time of RE4make, Capcom was re-integrating a lot of what worked in 8 back into the new RE4. But as many elements represent a conscious step back from the reinventions of RE7 in favour of recreating gameplay elements of the original: 3rd person view, visible health bar, etc. The same basic arsenal of pistol-shotgun-sniper-rile becomes available to you in that order, but trying to play Leon as you would Ethan is not going to come off seamlessly.

Leon he can’t block, for one. He can parry, but that’s not the same thing. His knife works very differently, many of its uses contextual. You have to aim before firing now – hitting fire without aiming first makes Leon slash with his knife instead (very annoying when I have the sniper rifle equipped, the enemy is too close for the scope to be useful, and failing to get a round off in a hurry is about to make my life a lot more uncomfortable) – and if you’re aiming, you can’t parry. The gameplay in the RE4 remake is honestly my favourite thing about it (the story is... more of a mixed bag, but we'll get to that), but coming to it directly off RE8 is just a little frustrating until you get your head around it. GDI, Leon, Ethan can make a decent mine that doesn’t go off on its own if it’s not tripped in 30 seconds, why can’t you?

Questionable nitpicks aside though, having gotten the hang of RE4’s combat, the more I think about it, the more the differences between how Ethan and Leon handle do actually work for me, and even make sense from a character-centric POV. Intentionally or not, there’s a kind of ludonarrative resonance to it all.

If you’ve read any video game critique in the last decade or so, you’ve likely run into the term ludonarrative dissonance: coined to highlight all those times when the story a game tells via dialogue and cutscenes clashes with the ‘ludonarrative’, or story created by the gameplay. The classic example is something like the Tomb Raider reboot, where cutscenes linger on the trauma of Lara's first human kill, but gameplay will still see her easily mowing down enemies mooks by the dozen barely five minutes later. See also: any time a character is a total badass in gameplay, but can be easily overpowered by a single opponent when necessary for a cutscene. This kind of narrative inconsistency is to some degree the nature of the medium – it’s a rare game that can avoid it altogether, but it can still throw you out of the experience.

For a more Resident Evil specific example, consider that minor plot point from RE6 which reveals that Sherry (one of the many playable characters) has an Ethan-like healing ability as a result of her exposure to the G-virus back in RE2. This has no effect on gameplay, before or after the reveal: Sherry’s health bar works the same as any other character’s. Even the RE4 remake hits this problem: letting Ashley be carried too far away by an enemy mook is an instant game-over in gameplay, but you’d better be prepared to see the exact same thing happen in multiple cutscenes at specified plot points, with no way to avoid it (c’mon, game, I know they’re just gonna stick her in a room with no guards somewhere, lemme go find her!)

You could arguably find a similar problem to Sherry’s in RE8, where Ethan very-canonically comes back from the dead after having his heart ripped out in a cutscene, even though he can absolutely be killed in regular gameplay. And yet, here, I’m inclined to cut the game some slack – because there is arguably an explanation provided, and it’s suitably horrific.

Ethan may be able to reattach severed limbs and walk off falls from great heights, but having his heart ripped out puts him down long enough to convince Chris he’s really dead – definitely down for the count. And if you pay attention to the (many) death-scenes that play after Ethan is killed by a lycan or moroi, you may notice that most monsters immediately start eating him as they light fades away. Ethan may come back after having his heart ripped out, but being digested may be a step too far.

And Ethan can get eaten a lot in this game. Moreau can eat you. The mould-foetus-monster can eat you. Dimitrescu makes pretty-fucking-clear her own desire to eat you too. Sturm doesn’t, but is certainly equipped to reduce Ethan to a fine, pink mist. Whether those final-moments were included specifically to fill that plot hole or whether they were just thrown in for ‘ordinary’ horror value I can only speculate, but it’s always nice when all those little, gory details tie together, isn’t it?

If we’re going to take games to task for all those probably-accidental moments where the gameplay and the story clash, it’s only fair to note a few of the ones where they do the opposite (likewise-accidental though they may be). Ludonarrative resonance, if you will.

On a basic level, pointing out that gameplay differences between RE4 and 8 make sense for Ethan’s vs Leon’s respective strengths and weaknesses may be a little too obvious. Leon can stagger an enemy with a bullet and then rush in to finish him off a roundhouse kick or a supplex because Leon is a certified badass with way more training than Ethan (who makes one vague mention of having had military training, presumably as an excuse for why he aims so much faster in RE8 than 7).

But it goes so far beyond that.

There’s the issue of blocking, for one. Ethan can block – roughly holding his hands up in front of himself to reduce incoming damage – but Leon can’t. This was initially annoying, but the more I thought about it, the more I liked it as a logical change. Sure, Leon can’t block, but Leon doesn’t secretly have mould-powered super-healing, and trying to tank axe-blows to reattachable parts of his body probably isn’t a viable strategy. What he can do is parry with his knife: a more skill-dependent strategy for a more-skilled guy. Timing is much trickier, but only his knife takes damage – Leon doesn’t, so when it works, it’s much better than blocking. And given Leon has this whole backstory-thing about being trained by a knife-obsessed nutjob, that all adds up too.

Then there’s the thing with ladders. Ethan can fall any distance without taking damage, but convincing him to take a gravity-shortcut doesn’t always work: if there’s a ladder nearby, he’ll take it. Leon, by contrast, clearly sees ladders as a waste of time. Ashley will use them to get down from high places, if there’s one available, but Leon, to my joy, prefers to jump. And again, there’s an arguable logic there that appeals to me: Ethan may be immune to falling damage, but he’s badly in denial about it, and would much prefer to take the stairs. Leon isn’t superhuman, but he knows parkour, and he’s damn well going to use it.

Health arguably follows similar logic. Ethan doesn’t get a proper health bar (maybe you need training to accurately judge how dead you are? IDK), just various colours to tell you roughly how bad this is going, and Ethan will be reduced to stumbling through a distorted red haze if you let him go too far into the red zone. Stumble around long enough without dying though, and Ethan will eventually walk it off, automatically returning to about half-health. Notably, Leon doesn’t get this same power (unless you’re playing on the very easiest difficulty – Ethan remains auto-healing right up to Village of Shadows level). But for a dude who canonically has healing powers, you can’t argue that makes a lot of sense.

The same rules apply to Mia too, when you’re playing her in RE7 – but given she’s been infected with the mould too, that tracks (and even if you did choose her for the cure, who’s to say how well such a haphazard cure even worked?)

This logic does break down a bit in RE8 when you play as Chris, and blocking and walking-it-off remain core mechanics. And if you wanted to get really nitpicky, you might even point out the same mechanics are available to Ethan in his very first fight with Mia in RE7, where he’s (presumably?) not infected yet. But there comes a point where you have to admit that expecting the devs to change gameplay so much for one brief section of a much longer game isn’t really realistic (and would be that much more annoying to get used to for this one tiny section anyway).

Amusingly though, in the Mercenaries DLC, Chris has been reworked somewhat, and now can’t block anymore: hitting the ‘block’ button throws a left hook instead. Which is only too appropriate for Chris Boulder-Punching Redfield – but it’s interesting to note that Lady Dimitrescu (another new playable character) can’t block either.

The only other character in Mercenaries mode who can block is Heisenberg, and he does so by raising a literal wall of sheet metal. Intentionally or otherwise, Mercenaries does kinda seem to cast Ethan’s ability to substantially reduce damage just by holding up his arms as pretty unique.

Speaking of health, Leon and Ethan can both increase their maximum HP – Leon by using yellow herbs, Ethan by eating food cooked for him by the Duke. Ethan, however, can also decrease the damage he takes while blocking and increase his running speed this way. This is the sort of game mechanic it’s probably not worth thinking too hard about, but even so, the idea that mould-man Ethan can enhance his own powers by eating food from around the village where the mould originates (and specially prepared by the nigh-omniscient Duke himself) is something I raised already over in my post on Mia and Miranda – and it fits here too. Leon, meanwhile, can only increase his own durability by buying body armour, then paying even more to keep it repaired (there is a case charm that increases his speed a little too, but it’s bloody hard to get).

There are other little details that follow the same pattern too – whereas in RE8, I found myself mostly using the pistol to finish off any enemies who didn’t quite go down in one shotgun blast, in RE4, I found myself relying on my basic pistol a lot more, even when not going for kung-fu finishers. Mostly, that’s down to enemy speed and ammo availability, but you can’t argue it makes sense that the better-trained Leon would be better-equipped to get the job done with lower-calibre weaponry.

Now, to be clear, I doubt most of these little differences are down to the devs going “okay, this new game is about a mould-superman, how do we work that into gameplay?” when RE7 came out – and I’m pretty sure a lot of how the new RE4 plays is down to an earnest attempt to include as much of the old RE4 as still makes sense. Leon has a visible health bar and can supplex enemies into the dirt because people loved the original, and we’re not here to completely reinvent the best features of the wheel. Half the stuff that screams ludonarrative resonance to me is probably more happy accident as design.

But when, for example, you’re being irritated by the discovery that the only mines available to Leon will just go off on their own after 30 seconds if not triggered by an enemy, it’s nice to be able to tell yourself “bloody hell, guess you need a real engineer like Ethan to make a half-decent mine!” and treat that like an excuse. It doesn’t fundamentally change the way either game plays, but it feels like there’s some rhyme and reason to it, and that’s just a little bit more fun. And they’re both great combat systems in their own fun way.

YMMV, of course.

#Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil 4 #Resident Evil #Ethan Winters #Leon Kennedy #meta #obsessive nerd over-analysis of gameplay differences and how they make Total Sense Actually #and the fine significance of who does or doesn't get to block

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creativepawsworld · 11 months

Text

Everything But You - Part 9

Pairing = Cillian Murphy x OC

Summary = Things are moving forward for Brie and Cillian. Both have some hard decisions to make.

Warnings = Language, Grammar, 90s Cillian, Insults,

Word Count = 3503

Note = We are nearly done...this took a lot longer than I intended but thank you all for sticking with me. I love you all so much.

Tonight, Cillian was going to tell the boys in the band he was leaving. He had decided that after getting the part of ‘Pig’ in the stage show Disco Pigs, he would focus the majority of his spare time rehearsing.

Instead of touring with the band in hopes of achieving a record label.

He had been nervous most of the day. Going over exactly what he wanted to say. After forming lasting friendships with some of the boys, his nerves were justified. He was worried their friendship would simply end.

The year was flying by incredibly fast, we had our first-year, final exams last month. I was apprehensive about receiving the results. I was terrified I had failed them. After not hearing back from Riverdance, I considered that another rejection and my last. I wouldn’t put myself through it again, they simply didn’t want me.

But If I had failed my exams as well, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. I would be lost. My whole life I had been fighting for both and the thought of receiving nothing, scared me.

The only thing I could see going right in my life at this moment was my relationship with Cillian. This was something I never saw coming, he appeared out of the blue, capturing my heart. He was something outside of myself that had my heart beating again.

Cillian was completely unbothered about whether or not he passed the final exam. It was clear law wasn’t for him. I called it the first day we had a class together, he was more interested in getting my attention than he was listening to the lecturer.

The last few weeks he had spent rehearsing his lines and trying to figure out the best way to approach the complex character that was Darren, aka Pig. I had never seen Cillian so engrossed in something before, not even when he was writing songs or performing on stage. This was different, this was his true passion.

The first show was in Dublin Theatre in 8 weeks. Cillian had two weeks to get his affairs in order before having to travel from Cork to Dublin for rehearsals. He had six weeks of on stage rehearsals before finally going public for the first.

He had the option of staying with the other cast members in a house-share type accommodation but decided not to. He liked coming home every night even for 30 minutes just to see me.

“He’s gonna burn a hole in that floor, tell em to sit down.” Paidi, Cillian’s younger brother commented.

Looking towards him he was sprawled out on the small sofa provided for the band’s set to play at the local bars during the week. Tonight was The Son’s of Mr Green Genes' last performance, a fact known to the three of us in this room. The other band members had yet to arrive for their sound check.

I attended Cillian’s house last weekend for Sunday lunch at his mother’s request. After having dinner with my father, his parents felt it was only fair they got to meet the girl, their son had chosen to yield his wild ways.

The lunch went well, meeting his family was much less awkward than it was meeting Andrew's parents. Cillian’s family were welcoming, whereas I always felt judged and not good enough for Andrew's parents.

“Cill, maybe sit down for a bit. You are gonna exhausted yourself before your due on stage.” I agreed standing in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. “They are going to be okay. They will either find someone to replace you both, or everyone will go their separate ways.”

“I just, I feel like I am letting them down.”

“I would rather you let down everyone in this room and outside it before letting yourself down Cillian.” I smiled placing my hands on either side of his upper arms and rubbing them.

“Beautiful and smart.” Cillian grinned down at me, leaning down to capture my lips in a short, sweet kiss. Only pulling away at the sounds of his brother’s gag reflex.

“CILLIAN YOU'RE NEVER GONNA BELIEVE IT.” Casey’s voice suddenly took over the room.

Stepping away from him I allowed the blonde man to step in, replacing my hands on Cillian’s upper arms. He had one of the biggest smiles I had ever seen. I was used to him constantly scowling, especially when I was around.

“Acid Kazz is outside and wants to speak to you, man. They are willing to offer a five-album contract record deal if we hit all the right notes tonight.” Casey continued.

My jaw fell open much like Cillian’s, the two of us staring at his friend. I wasn’t sure if this was some kind of joke or if life was playing a cruel prank on Cillian. Forcing him to make what I considered an impossible decision.

“Go, go talk to them, man. I swear it’s real. We fucking did it. Finally.” Casey beamed, and with a large smile, he started placing open-hand slaps against Cillian’s chest and back, forcing him out the door and towards whoever was on the other side waiting to talk to him.

“Congratulations, that’s great news for the band. You must be dancing on air right now.” I smiled shoving my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. I was unsure of what else to do with them.

“Yeah, it's amazing. Sucks for you though. Cill will be too busy with the band now to spend any time with you.” Casey shrugged off, turning his back to me and taking his bass out of its case.

Glancing over towards Paidi he shook his head at the bassist before rolling his eyes playfully at me. Being the youngest in the band, no one took him seriously. They just considered him Cillian’s younger brother, easily replaceable if need be.

“Right...” I trailed off not bothering to respond to the blonde. “Great news for you too, but what are you going to do about school?” I asked Paidi who sighed with a slight shake of his head.

“Ma will never let me skip out until I finish so I don’t know. Probably have to leave it all behind.”

“I’m sure you will be missed.” I smiled softly. Much like Cillian, Paidi loved music, he came alive on stage. You could see it in the way his fingers moved along the neck of the guitar or the smile he sent to the crowd every so often.

“Yeah, but we can find someone to replace you man don’t worry. I met this guy at the bar the other night, he is pretty good.” Casey replied bluntly.

“Gee thanks, man.” Paidi scoffed. Bringing one hand up to his other, he rubbed along his bicep, hurt evident behind his eyes.

“I am sure Paidi can at least record one album with you. He was a member when the record label found you after all.” I explained, trying my best not to glare at the older of the two boys. “He will be available after school and most of the summer.”

“No offence Brianna, but that’s not how bands work. I don’t need a part-time guitarist. It’s been holding us back. The only reason he is in the band is because of Cillian.”

“Excuse you?” I gasped wide-eyed at the complete audacity this man was showing. I heard of people getting too big for their boots when the prospect of success was in the future but this was ridiculous.

“Well he is a good guitar player, not bad on the piano either but he is just a kid. We are going to the big leagues now.”

“You haven’t even got the contract and already you think you're going to go places?” I laughed not quite believing the man standing in front of me.

“Like I said you haven’t a clue about music. Someone offering you a five-album contract is a pretty big deal. Not like you’ll be around long enough to see that.” Casey snapped, moving forward so he was now standing in front of me. “Cillian will have plenty of women throwing themselves at his feet. You will be nothing more than a distant memory.”

“Now hang on...” Paidi stood up next to me, immediately jumping to my defence.

“I don’t see what he sees in you. Average at best.” Casey continued ignoring the younger of the Murphy brothers. “He should have just left you alone after the first night he slept with you. Sluts like you always land on your feet don’t ya”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Paidi growled shoving the blonde back with a hard push of his hand.

“I’m just telling it how it is. She fucking spread her legs the first chance she got, once a slut always a slut.”

Pulling Paidi away from the man, I fought against the tears threatening to fall. Shaking my head at him I pushed Paidi towards the corner of the room, quietly asking him not to mention any of this to Cillian until later.

“Why? Casey is way out of line Brie, he is a fucking cunt.” Paidi glared over my shoulder.

“He’s not worth it,” I whispered, wiping the few tears that escaped on the sleeve of my jacket. “Look I want Cillian to have a clear perspective going into tonight. If he wants to pursue music great, if not even better but it’s his decision to make. I don’t want anything influencing it”

“He already decided. He is going to the stage show.”

“Right but that was before the offer of a record deal Paidi. Let’s just see what happens. Let’s just forget everything for now.”

*****

Twirling the small red straw in my drink, my mind was miles away. My friends joined me in the main part of the bar. Over the last few months of attending numerous concerts, they found themselves enjoying the music Cillian’s band performed.

“We dreaming of Mr Blue Eyes again.” Billy winked nudging into my side, bringing me back into reality. “He haunts my dreams girl. Those goddamn eyes.”

“They are hypnotic,” Marion commented with a slight nod. She had known Cillian the least but much like the rest of us, felt entranced by his eyes. “Everything okay with you two? You don’t seem yourself?”

“Things with Cillian are great,” I nodded, a small smile pulling at the corner of my lips at the mere mention of his name. “His bandmate on the other hand, not so much.”

“Which one? Who upset our girl?” Billy demanded, slamming his glass onto the bar table. The music from the band drowned out the sharp snap of glass. “I swear if you don’t tell me, I’ll march up on that stage and interrogate each one of them.”

“It’s Casey, the bass player. He’s been against me since Cillian and I got together. He said a few things earlier that just have been playing in my head.”

“Like what?” Aoife asked joining the conversation for the first time. She had disappeared into the bathroom as soon as she sat down, sickness has been plaguing her all week. But being afraid to miss anything, she insisted on coming out tonight.

“The band’s been offered a record deal. Five albums.” I nodded, my eyes not once lifting from the red straw in my glass. “He said Cillian will have women falling at his feet and he would forget all about a slut like me.”

“HE WHAT?” Aoife screeched, gaining only the attention of those standing next to us, or at the near tables. “He actually called you a slut?”

“His words were, sluts like me always land on their feet,” I repeated the words, plaguing my mind for the last hour.

“I’ll fucking kill him”

“Woah wait, wait. What did ole blue eyes say about this?” Billy interrupted holding his hand high into the air, stopping anyone else from speaking until he had finished.

“He doesn’t know.”

“What do you mean he doesn’t know?” Aoife barked back, the anger she was feeling evident on her face.

“I didn’t want him to know. Not until after the performance.”

“Why the fuck would that matter? He can’t talk about you like that? Cillian better not let him off with that” She growled, reaching forward to gulp back a large mouthful of water.

“Because he has enough on his plate at the minute.” I sighed, leaning on the table with my forearms. “The record deal isn’t the only offer Cill’s got. He has been cast as one of the leads in a stage play called Disco Pigs. Guys, he is amazing, honestly. The emotions he can pull from you...he is just brilliant.”

“Someone’s in love.” Billy grinned, placing a gentle hand across my shoulders.

*****

Clapping and screaming, cheers of praise with Billy. Cillian looked over in our direction shooting a wink in our direction which Billy claimed was for him and him alone. The band took one finally bow before heading off stage, Cillian gestured for me to meet him backstage but I declined. Confusing him.

“You gonna tell him?” Billy asked, fanning the sweat from his face. Between the amount of bodies in the bar and the unusual heatwave we were experiencing, it felt like we were standing in an oven.

“Not tonight, I want it to be his night.”

“Why are you so good?” Billy grinned, “Blue eyes better realise how god damn lucky he is having you by his side.”

“I’ll be sure to bring it up a few times.” I laughed. The two of us weaved our way through the crowd, back towards the table. Aoife was holding her head while Marion rubbed at her back. “Ef you okay?”

“Yeah, just need to go home Brie. Sorry.” She groaned, shakily standing to her feet with the help of Marion.

“I’m just gonna run her home. I’ll be back for you Mr don’t be getting into any trouble.” She pointed at Billy with a smirk. “Are you spending the night with Cill?”

“Maybe, I’ll see.” I nodded unsure of what his final decision was going to be. He may have decided to stay with the band, let his acting whim go and if that was the case. I didn’t want to be around Casey, especially not tonight.

Saying our goodbyes to the girls. Billy dragged me around the back alley, claiming he was gagging for a smoke. Just as we rounded the corner we came to an immediate stop, raised voices catching our attention instantly.

“Oh Blue eyes don’t look happy” Billy spoke in a hushed tone. “Looks like someone told him. Who else was in the room with you?”

“Paidi, Cillian’s little brother.” I whispered cautiously stepping forward. Billy gripped onto my arm, almost as if he was hiding behind me, yet pushing me forward at the same time.

“Fuck you! Who do you think are talking to my girl like that?” Cillian raged. I had never seen such an anger in a man before as he squared up to his taller friend.

“She won’t always be around for you Cill. Open your fucking eyes.”

“She supports me much more than you fucking bastards do.”

“How? By setting you up for failure.”

“Not failure success. Because of her I am actually doing something that has made me feel alive.”

“And what’s that? She gives you a good blow job every once in a while and suddenly your the king of the bloody castle.” Casey boosted. Having enough, Cillian’s arm withdrew before coming forward hitting the taller man straight on the jaw, knocking him back on his feet.

“In case you didn’t get the message. I’m done with the band, so fuck you, fuck the record deal and fuck the band.” Cillian spat, holding his two hands up he flipped off Casey who was now leaning against the bar wall holding his jaw.

“All this for some slut? Are you having a fucking laugh?”

“Fucking talk about her like that again and I swear to god I will not be responsible for my actions.”

“That righ...” Casey provoked.

Pulling away from Billy I ran towards Cillian placing my hands firmly against his solid chest. I could feel the anger radiating through him, it felt like he was vibrating beneath my hands.

“He isn’t worth it, hey look at me” I pleaded moving my hands up towards his face, holding him in place. He cast his eyes down to me briefly, his pupils were blown wide with anger. “Look at me, he isn’t worth it.”

“He can’t call you...”

“I’ve been called worse. Leave it.” I smiled softly, gently pushing him back towards Billy who helped me turn his solid body around and away from what I would assume was a former friend now.

“That’s right, go. Throw you career away. Idiot Murphy. You're a fucking idiot.”

“Throwing away nothing mate” Cillian smirked throwing himself around to face the blonde once more. “You record label means jack shit if I don’t sign it. It’s my songs after all. You got fuck all.”

Looking up at Cillian, a smugness was slowly replacing his anger. Glancing over at Casey the realisation of Cillian’s words sunk in. The once cocky blonde, now turned pale white, sickly white.

“Is that true?” I asked looking up at Cillian softly.

“Take that bitch.” Billy yelled with a large smirk. Shaking my head at him I looked up at Cillian, he just held me close. Wrapping his arm around my shoulders we decided to leave the bar, having enough excitement for the night.

*****

A few days after the excitement in the bar I was sitting with Cillian inside his bedroom. He was leaving for his Dublin tomorrow to start the stage rehearsals for his play.

“Are you nervous?” I asked playing with the aglet on my lace of my converse shoe.

“A little” Cillian nodded smiling softly at me. His hand came over cupping the side of my face, his thumb stroking my cheekbone softly. “But I’m making the right decision I can feel it.”

“That’s all that matters then.” I whispered leaning into his touch. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” Cillian smiled sadly before a mischievous look appeared on his face. “You know the next semester doesn’t start until what late September? You could come with me to Dublin.”

“Your not serious Cillian what am I suppose to do in Dublin?” I laughed softly but Cillian stepped away from me, really thinking, almost like he was trying to put together all the jigsaw pieces in his head.

“Why not? Its only up the road then we can tour together. It’s only in Dublin for a few weeks then I’m back in Cork before moving to Edinburgh. It’ll be a summer you wont forget.”

“Cillian...” I trailed off shaking my head softly this was an insane idea.

“Brie... I love you. I love you alright and I don’t want to be apart from you unless I absolutely have to. You gave me the courage to pursue this dream, come live it with me. It will be you and me.”

My mouth dropped as he mentioned those three words. Three words I’d never expected him to say. Cillian came over to me grabbing my hands in his, holding them up to his chest so I could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest.

“I love you Brianna.”

“I love you to Cillian” I chuckled softly not quite believing what was happening. I wiped the tears away from cheeks, they were happy tears. “I love you so much.”

I took his head into my hands kissing him passionately. I didn’t care if his brother Paidi walked through the door or not, I didn’t care if his mother walked through the door I was happy.

“I’ll come on tour with you but I’m not going home after Edinburgh.” I nodded not knowing how I was going to survive. My savings were okay but not enough to last, I would just have to talk to my dad.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Cillian asked, fighting off an even bigger smile that threatened to spill onto his face.

“Yeah, it’s not like I am going to Riverdance anytime soon and I always wanted to take a gap year so why the bloody hell not.” I giggled, placing my hands firmly on his chest, ignoring the ringing phone in my pocket.

“Are you really sure?” He asked, eyes squinting down to see if he could detect any sign of lying. Nodding my head, I pulled away from him briefly to check the caller id on my phone. - unknown.

“Nothing will stop me going on tour with you Mr Murphy.” I grinned placing my phone back into my pocket before throwing my arms around his shoulders. Pressing our foreheads tightly together, we stared into each other’s eyes. “I’m letting go of Everything but You”

Taglist

@stars-of-scorpio @lovemissyhoneybee @peakyscillian @cillmequick @forgottenpeakywriter @lyarr24 @brummiereader

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #90s cillian murphy #90s cillian #everything but you #part9 #originalcharacter #oc #cillianmurphyxoc

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i-know-geography · 2 years

Text

Secret Lover

Yandere!Father! Aiden with a Teenager! Reader

(Sorry if this gets too bad,i'm not that good on one–shots)

Tw:Yandere;Overprotection;Death;Murder mention

You have a lover,a person of your age that you've met in school,a really cool person.

But no one could ever knew about that.

Principally your father.

Your father is too much protective with you and your brother,Kody. He doesn't want you to date anyone,because "they're not good enough for you",in fact,you don't even have friends besides his coworkers and Lumine,and he always use the same excuse.

You loved your father,but he treated you like a child...you hate being treated like that.

You're fifteen years old! Why he treats you like you're 8?! It's not fair!

You knew that he would freak out if he knew about your partner,so that's why they were your secret lover.

You found an excuse to leave the house,saying you were going to return a book to the libary.

But you were on a date with your partner,on a park,just chilling around and being a cute couple.

You've being dating them for a month,and you were happy with them!

They were a cute partner,they treated you well and completely understood your complaints about your father.

—Maybe he just really loves his children?—They asked you.

—Yeah,he likes me and Kody a lot but i'm starting to feel uncomfortable about this,like,i want to have friends and go out with you,god dammit!—You scream this last part.

—Why don't you try talk to him? Maybe he'll understand!

—You don't think i've tried? He's fucking persistent! Nothing can change his mind!

You waited for your lover to say something,but they just looked at their phone with a worried face.

—Oh my,it's almost 6:30 PM! My parents are going to kill me if i get home late!—They aproached you and kissed your cheek.—Bye bye,sweetheart! Good luck in convincing your dad!

—Bye,honey!—You said,remembering you couldn't be home late either.

_________________________________________

Aiden was in his office,his fingers were tapping the table,he looked annoyed about something.

He was annoyed about you,not especially you but the fact that you were dating someone,he warned you a million times that you shouldn't be dating anyone on your age,you are too young for this! And also,no one deserves a sunshine like you as lover.

But you were hanging out with one of your classmates for a whole month,and he was foolish enough to not notice it before,now his baby was hanging out with that weird freak who shouldn't even dare to look at them.

He knew that you weren't going to the libary,he sent some of his men to stalk you and see what were you doing.

He heard the sound of the office's door opening and tried to look calm.

—You found them?

—Yes.—One weredog said giving him a photo of his child and their lover.

When he saw the photo,he got really angry,that bastard dared to kiss his baby's cheek? Oh,they were so doomed.

—Do you know where they live?

—Yes,sir.—One of the men said,telling him the address.

—Great...—His green eyes glowed as he stood up.—Looks like we are going to have a friendly chat...

His men trembled,they knew whoever this person was,they were doomed.

_________________________________________

You finally arrived home,happier than ever because of your date,you were quickly greeted by Lumine.

—[Your name]! How was the date?! Did you have fun?!

Your brother was on Lumine's side,playing on his switch.

—I thought you've died,why did you took so long?—He asked in his bored tone of always.

—Love needs a lot of time,lil bro.—You said,messing his hair.—Where is dad?

—Aiden just left,he said he had a "business" to do.—Lumine said,calmly.

—Oh,great,then maybe i'll do a video call with my sweetie!—You said,happly going to your room.

—...Love is always this cheesy and weird?—Kody asked on a ironic tone.

—Dunno,but they sound really happy!—Lumine smiled,he loved to see you happy.

You layed on your bed,grabbing your phone and trying to call your lover,but no answer.

Maybe they weren't home yet?

You waited ten minutes and tried to call them again.

Nothing.

Then after more ten minutes you tried to call again

And again

And again...

But they didn't answered.

You heard the sound of the front door opening; Your father arrived.

You ignored it and tried to look something to do in the internet.

Until you've recieved something in your classroom chat group.

A link for a news site who said:

"Teenager is found dead close to their home."

Then you entered on the site and read the news.

"Fifteen years old teenager named [Lover name] was found dead close to their home,it seems that they died because of some spell.

You were in shock,you couldn't belived it! You've read it again,and again,it was really your lover's name and their photos on the news.

You felt the tears falling down on your face,why was that happening? Why with them?

You heard your father's voice from afar,looks like he was talking with Silver.

Now that you noticed...your lover died because of a spell,and your father is a powerful witch.

Could he be the one who killed your lover? He works together with the police,so he knows how to left the scene without evidences...but how did he discorvered about that?

You didn't care! You were so angry now,your lover died because of your fucking crazy father!

You got out of your room,fucking pissed,you found your father in his room.

—Oh,[Your name],my dear. How are you?—He said calmly,opening his arms to hug you.

But you just slapped him.

—YOU KILLED MY PARTNER!—You screamed at him,pushing him away.—WHY YOU DID THIS? I LOVED THEM SO MUCH!

—Darling,i don't understand what you're saying,you know i don't kill people without a good reason for this.—There was he,pretending he doesn't knew what were you talking about.

Your father always did this,pretending that he didn't did anything to your friends or crushes,but at least he just scared them away,he never killed someone...until your partner shows up.

—Don't play the fool with me,i know all about your fucking mind games!—You showed him the phone,with the news about the murder of your lover.

—Oh...so they were really your lover,huh? I guess i have no regrets then.—And there was he,that sadistic and sarcastic side of your father,you didn't knew who was your true father,the good one or the evil one.—Don't get me wrong,baby,but i couldn't let that happen,i've told you,didn't i? You can't date anyone.

You were scared,scared because of what happend,scared because your dad was acting weird,scared because your father was a murder.

He grabbed your wrist.

—Why did you disobeyed me? I've told that no one on this world deserves you as friend or partner.—He forcefully made you hug him.—But you tried to date someone behind my back,you've betrayed me,i've thought i could trust on my own child,but i guess i'm the worst father in the whole world for you,am i not?

You felt kind of bad for him after what he said,but at the same time,you still angry because of what he had done.

—My dear,i've killed them because they were dangerous for you,to be true,everything from the outside world is dangerous for you.—He stroked your hair calmly.—And i've noticed you can't have a life in the outside world,i was a fool in trusting this on someone so innocent.

His voice got onto your head,the things he said...wasn't you being too much evil with him? He was just trying to protect you.

—But i won't make the same mistake again.—He looked deeply at your eyes.—[Your name] Harmaa Kivi...you won't leave this house ever again.

—WHAT?!—You got out of his grip.—DAD,THIS IS CRAZY!

—It's necessary,my dear,i can't let you go outside,from now on,you won't leave this house for nothing,you're going to do homeschool and my men will watch you so we can garantee you won't run away. Understood?

—B-BUT,WHAT ABOUT MY FRIENDS? WHAT ABOUT MY SOCIAL LIFE?!—You felt you were about to cry again.

—Your real friends are here,you don't need that pricks from your school.—He used his finger to remove the tears from your face.—Aw,sweetie,don't cry...i hate when you're crying,everything will be okay,from now on,we can always be together,like a happy family.

He patted your head.

—It's getting too late,you should get some rest.—He kissed your forehead.—Good night,my dear,daddy loves you!

He smiled,like everything was okay.

You ran to your room,locked the door and threw yourself in your bed,crying on your pillow.

You couldn't believe that,your father was a possesive man who wants to isolate you from the world forever,just because you dated someone.

Now you saw what your father really was;He is worse than a witch or a werewolf.

He is a monster.

#platonic yandere #platonic #headcanons #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere lumine #yandere lumine webtoon #yandere father

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officialchristiancagebbgirlblog · 2 months

Text

Punishment

Fic type: smut

Word count: 4281

This, I think, is the longest fic I’ve ever written holy shit. I’m not lying when I say this took days to write. I hope you guys enjoy!

You tease Christian from home while he’s out only to receive your punishment when he returns

Mention of: blindfolds, creampie.

Link to masterlist

Happy reading 🩷

“Are you sure you can’t finish early?” You pleaded on the phone. Being stuck in your shared hotel room while Christian was stuck at work training for an upcoming PPV was your least favourite part of travelling with him.

“No, honey, I have to keep going for another few hours, and then I’ve got a meeting about my match. I won’t be back until at least half 8?” You could hear the sadness in his voice; it bummed him out to know he had to keep going before he could be back in bed with you.

You sighed to yourself trying not to let it get to you, saying your goodbyes shortly after. Sure, it was only like 3 hours you had to wait but it didn’t change how much it sucked. He had already been gone since lunchtime for various interviews, work events. And at that point in the evening, you had exhausted all the channels on the television so nothing was grabbing your attention to keep you busy. All you could do was lay there on the bed and stare at the ceiling.

After what felt like 2 and a half hours but was only 1, you were still laying there. Not moving. Trying to come up with something, anything to entertain yourself:

“I could listen to some music!” You thought to yourself,

No. There weren't any songs that you could think of.

“I could go for a walk?”

But that involved dressing up. You were quite comfortable in your lingerie. Plus the weather wasn’t ideal…

“I could FaceTime my friends?”

Nah, they were going to be busy at this time for sure.

“I could maybe…have some fun? By myself?”

Absolutely not! Christian had made it very clear to never do that without his presence!

“I could…

I could tease him. Teach him a lesson for leaving me here with nothing to do!”

It was perfect. Show him what he was missing out on! You knew it wasn’t entirely fair on him as he didn’t have a choice. He had to be there today. But fuck that! He should know better than to leave you on your own.

But how to do it? You were already dressed in the right attire so there was no need to get up and put something on. Just imagining his reaction was enough to get your mind racing and it wasn’t too long before you picked your phone up again to start your photography session.

Taking a mix of photos and videos, you adjusted yourself into various positions so he could get a good look at your soft, warm body without revealing too much. You had to keep him hooked after all! It’s no fun if he saw everything through his phone screen!

It was daring, exciting to partake in this activity. The idea that he had to hide his excitement from others was exhilarating and you ate it right up. Perhaps the most daring thing, though, was the final video you sent to him where you lost control. All the photos that came out nice had been received, seen, and salivated over by him with red cheeks and a desperation to keep people from looking at his phone or asking him questions.

You got yourself all worked up that you forgot about his rule: no masterbation without his presence. So when you shot the video of your fingers under the soaked cotton of your underwear and hit send, the realisation hit 30 seconds too late of what you had gotten yourself into. Not only was it bad enough you took the video and actually sent it to him but he had seen it within seconds. Which of course meant you couldn’t delete it now. There was no hiding evidence.

7:45pm rolled around and you knew you were in trouble when he returned and didn’t give you the usual chipper smile and bountiful kisses all over your face. Instead when he entered the room, he stood at the foot of the bed with a growling frown. His cheeks were pink, his eyebrows were furrowed in an angry concentration, and his tight trousers proudly displayed his love to you. You should have been apologising, explaining yourself somehow. But the way the denim curved around his surely leaking cock was so distracting that you barely even noticed he took a hold of your ankles and pulled you down the bed.

Yelping as you were forced to sit upright at the foot of the bed, he placed two fingers on his right hand under your chin and forced your face upwards to look him in the eyes.

“You’ve been such a bad girl tonight,” he rasped with a slight upwards curl on the corner of his mouth, “I think you deserve to be punished for what you did tonight.”

Christian took a step forward closer to your face with his legs either side of you, trapping you in place. Not that you had any intentions of moving, however the idea that you couldn’t escape your fate was so delicious. He slowly started to unbuckle his belt making sure to take his sweet time. The leather squeaked slightly when he pulled it out of the hoops, and the metal played a sweet sound as it loosened and finally unbuckled. He took a step back as he worked on the zip of his trousers and finally the button, wasting no time in removing the clothing from his legs entirely. And there he stood before you. Tight black boxers hugged his hairy yet soft thighs, his cock even more prominent.

“Use your teeth.”

His tone was harsh, but his voice was soft and deep. You maintained eye contact with him as you leant forward towards the waistband with your mouth agape. You couldn’t help but giggle as he shivered to the feeling of your lips making contact with his body. Just as slowly as he removed his belt, you carefully took the fabric between your teeth and began to inch it down his long slender legs. He watched you the entire way down biting on his bottom lip to stop any pleas to go faster from slipping out. If the shiver wasn’t good enough, hearing him gasp in pleasure as his cock sprang free, slapping against his stomach surely did the job at soaking your panties.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his boxers pooled around his ankles and he eagerly stepped out of them. Now kneeling on the carpet in front of him, he pulled you back up onto the bed. It was a far better view for him. Plus he wanted to know exactly where your hands were at all times. He couldn’t have you touching yourself now could he? Certainly not after your behaviour up until that point!

Taking hold of his now throbbing cock he took hold of your chin with his thumb and finger. With a devious smirk, he forced you to open your mouth wide for him. You stuck your tongue out for him to place the head on so you could begin relieving him. Beads of precum had formed at the tip just begging to be lapped up and tasted by you. And you were all too happy to oblige, using the flat of your tongue to clean him up. Christian’s head rolled back and his mouth fell open at the warmth and the wetness that suddenly appeared for him.

“Yeah, that’s it baby.” He purred as you began to gleefully take him deep into your mouth. His fingers tangled themselves in your hair as he took a rough fistful, rocking his hips with each pump of your mouth. It was clear he wasn’t going to last too much longer as moans began spilling from his lips, sweet nothings floating into your ears. The hair above his cock was beginning to tickle your face more than you liked so you pulled back to focus on the head of his cock. Still you kept his joy going by replacing the pumping action with your hand on his shaft. Going tip to tip with your tongue and his penis, you licked up and down, side to side, in circular motions keeping a steady speed to not rush his orgasm which was already fast approaching. But when your tongue began to dip into the slit of his head, he let out a breathless “oh god” and an “oh fuck!” before those sweet words were spoken: “oh god, baby, I’m cumming!”

As he whimpered out your name, sweet streams of hot cum shot out onto your still moving tongue. In normal circumstances, you would spit the cum out not being a huge fan of the texture but you felt it was deserved today. Once he pulled his still twitching cock out of your mouth, he instinctively reached for the nearby bin for you to spit out his seed. But you kept eye contact as you swallowed every last drop and showed him the evidence. His cheeks flushed a darker shade of pink and his eyes darkened at your actions.

“Stand up. It’s your turn.” He growled, pulling you up and pinning your front against the wall with an order to “stay there a second.”

You turned your head to watch him pick up a clean sock of his from the dresser. Somehow throughout your entire sex journey with each other, neither of you had thought to buy an actual blindfold. Surely by this point he had multiple odd socks that were looser than the other at this point. He returned to you, slipping the sock over your eyes and tying it behind your head in a tight, secure knot. He made quick work of removing only your bra, flinging it to a random corner in the room to be found hours later. Keeping your panties on seemed to excite him even more. He pressed his body against you, making sure your hair was moved out of the way to reveal your neck.

“Before we start, lovely,” he began, his dominant demeanour dropping for a moment, “if at any point you feel uncomfortable, you want to stop, tell me straight away okay? Don’t feel bad or scared to say it’s too much and we need to stop.” His fingers gently traced shapes on your shoulder as he whispered his concerned words to you, waiting for a response.

“I will, baby, I promise.” You smiled reassuringly over your shoulder, “I always feel safe with you and I want to do this really badly.” Although you couldn’t see it, he returned your smile and planted a gentle kiss on your cheek and then your lips, holding on for a second longer than he intended.

After receiving your consent to continue, he moved his kisses to your neck, sparing no time with leaving a trail of love bites down your skin on either side. He separated your legs with his which allowed his, once again rock hard cock to spring up between your legs, landing neatly between your folds through the soaked fabric. Beginning to rock his hips like he did before, the hairs on his chest and stomach tickled with each movement. He reached around to begin to fondle your bare breasts now leaving no space between your bodies.

“Does that feel good?” He cooed, his hot breath tickling your ear and sending a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t say anything so you just nodded. The roughness of his hands skyrocketed the pleasure as they kneaded your soft skin, taking some time to gently pinch your nipples. Mixed with the feeling of his slow thrusts you were in ecstasy. You let out a quiet whimper as your head rolled back onto his shoulder, his lips making their way back down to leave soft kisses over the marks he had made. There was a twinge of pain as your skin was sensitive but the moistness of his lips felt oddly soothing.

“Christian…” you gasped, “please I need more!”

Feeling him smirk against your skin made your body quiver and your legs feel like jelly. He guided you back to the bed with his hands on your hips before turning you around to face him.

“Mmmm…you look so beautiful right now!” You could hear the smile in his voice as he studied your face for a brief moment, “Let me get a good look at you, baby girl.”

Carefully he untied the sock trying not to catch your hair or hurt you accidentally. As it slipped off your face, you had to spend a second to adjust to the light, squinting hard before feeling comfortable enough to open your eyes normally. Christian’s hair was a little bit damp and messy from his enjoyment so far, sparse beads of sweat gently rolling down the side of his face before settling in his neatly trimmed beard. But despite the sweat, red skin, and mucked up hair, he had never looked so handsome and you found yourself leaning forward to show your love for him. There was no hesitation as he leant forward and closed the gap between your lips.

However the kiss, although full of love and a hint of passion, was short lived. That gleam in his eye from earlier returned as did his hard on which was just begging to be touched again. He pushed you back to lay down on the bed and took a rough hold of your legs to, once again, pull you down to the edge of the bed. Instinctively you tried to sit up but he held you down by your hips. The smirk returned as he shook his head at you for attempting to go against his order. That damned smirk. A part of you hated how it had so much control over you. You watched as he sunk down to his knees allowing his fingertips to gently slide down your thighs as he reached the floor. Licking his lips, he reached down to your thighs, making and maintaining eye contact with you. He left a trail of kisses leading up on either thigh being careful not to get too close just yet.

Every time he got close to the sweet spot you felt a small heartbeat on your clit. You were getting increasingly more desperate for his tongue to relieve you of the built up pressure.

“Oh god, you have no idea how good your pussy smells right now!” He moaned out, lifting your legs wide apart. He was becoming just as desperate as you were, practically salivating over the knowledge that he was about to be able to lick up every last drop of your excitement. He began to lick at your inner thigh where the crease of your skin started to become your right pussy lip. You fought back the sounds of pleasure by biting on your bottom lip hard enough to almost draw blood. The feeling of the top of his tongue trying desperately to slip under the fabric of your panties through the leg hole to get even just a hint of your taste was so intense. Clearly he had run out of patience as he grabbed either side of the waistband and yanked your panties off in one clean swoop to join the fate of your forgotten bra. He threw your legs over his shoulders as you watched him lick his lips with an almost silent “fuck!”, dipping his head down to return the favour from earlier.

The feeling of his whole tongue slipping between your folds to drag a slow, full lick from bottom to top was enough to make you lose concentration and let out a yelp of pleasure. You felt him groan against your wet lips sending a wave of pleasure upwards from the vibration. He said something in response which you didn’t hear as he parted your lips with either hand and delved in deeper, his tongue slipping into your entrance.

“You taste so good…” he barely mumbled, his mouth too busy to say anything else. You reached down to hold his head doing anything to reign in the feeling that was starting to become too much for you to handle any longer, but he was quick to grab your wrists before you even felt his slick hair under your hands. Christian looked up at you as he held them tightly on either side of your hips. Regardless of how much fun he was having, he was still determined to punish you for sending him those photos and that video. It could really go either way from here: either he was going to force an early orgasm so you were even more sensitive than you already would be, or he was going to completely deny you of that experience. He was still going to have his way with you but only one of you would be crossing that finish line.

His lips moved up north and hooked onto your clit, sucking roughly on that little button. Instinctively your legs tried to squeeze together from the intense pleasure, pressing against his ears. He took a hold of both your wrists with his left hand moving them to rest on your stomach to force at least one of your legs apart so he could reach you again. It took a fair amount of force to separate your leg from his head but he got there in the end, holding it as far away from his head as he could. His tongue flicked aggressively in all directions at your clit as you let out a strangled shout of his name, the pleasure being too much to stay quiet. Your hips lifted to his face as you felt your orgasm approaching which he sensed. He pulled off you with a satisfying pop, lips red and slightly swollen from the action. He spent a moment admiring his work, your pussy glistening and your clit throbbing from pleasure. Looking up to see your face, he let out a soft moan.

“Oh baby, that was a lot huh?” He teased, lips slightly pouting. Your face was beet red and hot, covered in a layer of sweat that continued all down your body and stuck long strands of hair to your forehead. With legs trembling, you pulled yourself up the bed to allow him to follow you, still on his knees.

“There’s a good girl,” he cooed encouragingly, “you ready for more?”

Admittedly you weren’t sure if you were. You were still so sensitive from him eating you out, you didn’t know if you could take a rough fucking especially for long. But as he moved your legs apart for the third time that evening, the concern left your mind.

“Please, Christian. I need you to fuck me!” You begged, becoming desperate for him again. He pursed his lips wondering if you deserved it.

“Hmmm…,” he wondered aloud, “maybe if you beg for it some more, I’ll fuck you?”

“You bastard.”

You spent a moment trying to think of the quickest thing you could say to get him to reward you. Perhaps you should apologise for teasing him before? That would surely get him to give you what you needed? Still watching and waiting for your pleas, he took a hold of his erection and began to rub it between your wet lips, making it infinitely harder to concentrate.

“I’m sorry I touched myself w-without your presence or permission. I shouldn’t have…” you swallowed thickly, the returning pleasure fuzzing up your thoughts, “I…I shouldn’t have done it. I promise I…I promise I won’t do it again.”

You looked up to see him smiling down at you, still teasing your vagina by rubbing with only the head of his cock. “What do you need from me, sweetie?” His voice was dark and lustful, needing to hear you say it one more time.

“I need…I need you to fuck me. Rough, hard, fast, in any way. Please don’t tease me anymore, I need- ah!”

He didn’t even wait to hear you finish, sliding his cock deep inside you. The feeling of him finally stretching you out was intoxicating. You both let out guttural moans as he wasted no time in burying his cock as far as it would go. Adjusting himself to a missionary position he began to snap his hips roughly pounding in and out of you. By that point, you had completely lost the ability to focus on anything but the feeling and the sound of his skin slapping against yours. Incoherent words fell out of both of your mouths. It seemed he shared your inability to create a coherent sentence. With your hands splayed across his back, you placed a kiss on his shoulder as he dug his fingers once again into your thighs. You were able to regain focus for just a moment as you tasted the subtle saltiness of his sweat on your lips.

“Oh fuck baby, I…I can’t last much longer,” you whimpered, “please, don’t stop!”

He simply panted in response, picking up the pace and angling his hips so he could hit that sweet spot. His lips brushed against the edge of your ear and you barely heard him whisper, “that’s it, tell me how good it feels.”

You really wish you could but you could only moan and whine in response, his thrusts being the only thing your mind could comprehend in that moment. That and your orgasm that was right there. It seemed that he picked up on the urgency of that feeling as he knelt up, pulling your hips with him so your legs sat on either side of him and your ass on his thighs. He stared you down, mouth hanging open, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as the pace he had set began to falter. Breathing heavily, he brought his thumb up to his mouth to suck on it for a brief second before lowering it back to your clit to rub circles on it. There was a growing tension in your lower stomach the longer he paired the two motions, which was moments away from releasing.

“Christiannn…” you whined out his name, your hips rocking and jerking with his, eyes squeezed shut. Sweat was dripping off his body and rolling down yours as he leant forward a bit to see your face closer. Your walls had become so tight around him as you teetered on the edge of release, just needing his encouragement. Your eyes opened to meet his and as he flashed you a sweet smile, you got what you wanted.

“Oh baby, please…cum for me!”

That’s all you needed, letting out a loud gasp and becoming still and tense. Rippling feelings of an intense release of bliss overtook your body as you came around his still thrusting erection. As you slowly came back down to Earth, you heard him whimper as he gripped your hips desperately. He lurched forward laying on top of you as his equally explosive orgasm hit, even stronger than his first one. His lips crashed against yours to stifle the noises of his pleasure not wanting to be too loud. After all, his pleasure was for you and you alone.

It took him a little bit longer to come down from his orgasm, eventually choosing to lay there still connected with you just trying to catch his breath. His face was buried in your neck, still quietly moaning against your skin, planting lazy kisses on the now bruised marks. Although the room was muggy and a little too hot with him choosing not to move over just yet, everything felt perfect. You traced random shapes on his sweat slicked back, your eyes glazed over in a post bliss. Finally he unpeeled his body from yours, the air cooling you down a little bit. As he gently pulled his cock out from inside of you, you felt his seed spill out from inside of you making you gasp and him chuckle at your reaction. He effortlessly picked you up to place you in the armchair near the bed as he began to clear the bed, not wanting to sleep in the now wet sheets. He had also, thankfully, turned the air conditioning on which helped clear up the room, choosing to also open the window behind closed curtains to let some fresh air in.

“I think I’ve…learned my lesson!” You mentioned, standing up to dry yourself off with a nearby towel. He shook his head with a smile, “I hope you have, otherwise I’d have to start all over again.”

Passing him the towel so he could do the same after new sheets were on the bed, you picked up the old ones and placed them in the laundry basket for him, climbing under the top blanket.

“I do want to say that it felt incredible as usual” you praised, as he slid in to lay next to you for a snuggle. He gently laid a kiss on your lips stroking your cheek with his thumb in response. You exchanged the usual ‘I love you’s as you settled down with bodies still buzzing in joy. He reached down to pull your leg over his hips so you were even closer, making you giggle slightly when he grumbled: “you’re so far away, what the fuck?” Planting another quick kiss to your forehead to hear you giggle one last time, he kept his lips near your face. Feeling the tickle of his breathing helped you drift into the best sleep you had in a long time. You continued tracing shapes on his skin which helped him drift away with you in a well deserved good night's sleep.

#christian cage #captain charisma #christian #christian wwe #instant classic #christian cage x reader #christian cage fanfic

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trashmouth-richie · 1 year

Text

TWIN FLAMES: 8 🔥

Summary: readers parents are made aware of the things that happened when they were gone.

<w.c> 4.9k

Pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: MINORS: DNI ,mentions of abuse, female masturbation, mentions of smut.

A/N: I’m so excited, this is a real turning point in this series, and it only goes up from here.

Feedback is loved and appreciated ☄️

———————————————————————————

“Call me later after you talk to your parents today, okay? We go on at 9 o’clock tonight but usually we are there setting up by 7 and I’m off work at 5:30.” Eddie explains to you as you start your car in the early morning hours.

When you woke up this morning, Eddie couldn’t have looked more sexy if he tried. His hair, always a mess, his lips slack with a slight snore escaping them. You didn’t want to get up and face the reality of the day. Wishing you could stay lost forever in Eddie’s arms you buried yourself deeper into his side, ignoring his alarms as long as you could.

Shutting the car door you say, “I’m going to miss you so much today it’s not fair,” you whine, throwing out your lower lip.

Eddie leans into your car window, “I’ll make up for it tonight when I see you after the show.” He snakes his tongue against the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your neck and to your core. “Now, give me a kiss so I have something to think about all day.”

You slip your tongue against his lips and deepen the kiss, biting his lip you hear him groan. “Such a tease,” Eddie moans against your lips, pulling back and running his thumb over your bottom lip he says, “drive safe, sweetheart love you.”

“Love you more.”

The further you drive away from Eddie, heading back home, the lonelier you feel. The panic you have kept tucked deep down about telling your parents about Steve.. and Eddie, is starting to creep out of your mind, riddling your body with anxiety. What would they say? You tried to put a brave face on for Eddie and tell him everything would be okay, but you weren’t 100% sure.

Pulling into your driveway, memories of the last three days filled with Eddie flood your mind. How would you be able to make it through today without seeing his perfect face, hearing his infectious laugh, or feeling him hold you close? It would be damn near impossible.

The house is lonely, empty without Eddie here. You don’t have much time to dwell as the front door swings open and in walks your mom and dad.

“Y/N! we’re home!” Your dad sings through the front door holding the suitcases and balancing his keys, your mother entering in behind him. “How is our favorite girl? Did you miss us?”

You hug both your mom and dad at once. You had missed them, so many horrible but also incredible things had happened since you had last seen them, the few days that they were gone felt like months. Stepping back, your mother notices your abused face first. “Y/N! What happened?! She shrieked. “Dan! L-look at her face!” She says motioning for your dad.

Your mother is in hysterics at this point as she’s rushing you onto a couch in the living room sitting beside you and assessing you all over. “Mom I’m okay,” she’s crying and begging your dad to call the cops, “Mom! I’m fine. I will tell you everything, just take a breath! Please!” You ordered.

Her mascara is running and she’s grabbing for tissues as she takes a deep breath and ushers your dad to sit down beside you. You stand up, finding it easier to tell this story without them breathing down your neck.

“Okay first things first, I need you to promise not to be upset with me no matter what I— ”

“Y/N just tell us what is going on!” Your dad shouts, a look of worry staining his face.

“Just promise me?” You plead, “okay?! Please!” Tears stinging your eyes, wanting their approval so desperately.

“Yes yes sure now what is going on?!” your mom blubbers out.

Twiddling the hem of your shirt you start to explain, “Okay, well this all started because, I- I broke up with Steve on Saturday and before you start yelling and screaming just let me explain why. My entire life has been wrapped around Steve. From as far back as I can remember, you two have been shoving Steve at me, and I loved him. I really did, but I don’t want the same things that Steve does. Dad, I’m sorry but I don’t want to go to Harvard. I would rather travel and live my own life besides one that you two chose for me.

“Besides that. I met someone. And I really really like him and I want you to meet him, and I know that you will like— ”

“Stop right there,” your mom declared tears no longer falling from her eyes, but a look of sheer disgust. “You broke up with Steve?! Why?? Y/N! We just got your senior pictures done! Mary and I have already put a deposit down on a house for you two for next year in Cambridge, and and you just broke up with him without even asking me?!”

You’re flabbergasted, is your own mother really insinuating that you needed her permission to break up with someone? You look at your dad who looks stunned. You’ve never disappointed them before, never even been in trouble with them. You have always been following their exact plan to the perfect degree. The perfect daughter, the perfect daughter’s marriage, the perfect daughter's husband, the perfect daughter this, that forever and always, never stepping a toe out of line. You couldn’t stop the fury and tears flowing from your eyes.

“Since when did my happiness not matter, mom! Why would I need to ask your permission to end my relationship?! Sorry for your loss mother, but when I was hanging out with my new boyfriend, Steve came here and did this to me!“ you say, motioning to your face. “He has gone off the deep end, he’s doing drugs and hanging out with some really shady people, he broke a glass bottle across my face, called me a whore and beat up my boyfriend! I know I broke up with him and more than likely started his downward spiral, but Steve is not who he used to be, he has changed and not for the better. Oh and I saw Mary at the grocery store yesterday, she called me a tramp and I told her about Steve doing this shit to me so I guess we won’t be on their Christmas card this year!”

Your mother stands and points a finger at you, “You’re ruining this family, you’re ruining your entire future and for what? A boy you just met?! You’ve known Steve your whole life! And you’re just going to throw him away because you have a sudden change of heart? Your father and I work hard everyday to make sure you have more than what you need to live a very comfortable life! Now you’re ditching that for some boy? No. Not you! Not my daughter!” Your mother shouts.

“Y/N honey please, just relax.” Your dad says running a hand through his hair, “Rose, for the love of God, stop this bullshit. This is our daughter! Look what that little shit did to her! I don’t give a damn about the deposit in Cambridge or Mary’s feelings. Y/N is eighteen and is more than capable of making her own decisions. If she doesn’t want to go to Harvard, so be it, she doesn’t have to date Steve Harrington to grow up and be a good person! She could move out if she wanted to and probably will if we don’t support her emotionally. So drop it. Now.” your dad says sternly.

“Dan! She is ruining her life! I’m sure the Harrington’s want nothing to do with us now!” Your mother says blowing her nose and laying her head on the couch as if she was about to faint. You never once thought your own mother would side against you and definitely didn’t think she was one for theatrics. “And what about the country club, the wine club, book cl—”

“None of that, not one single part, pertains to Y/N, Rose. Why don’t you go upstairs and lie down, we had a long flight.”

Your mother stalks off up the stairs, sniffling and wiping her eyes as she goes.

“Dad, look I’m really sorry—”

“Y/N, you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry for making you feel trapped in a relationship and like you couldn’t leave it because of me. I will be calling Tony about his son and his actions. I’m just dumbfounded that Steve would stoop so low. He clearly needs help.”

You're biting your nails now as you talk to your dad one on one. “Are you disappointed that I don’t want to go to Harvard?” You quip.

He takes a deep breath and lowers his gaze to his hands, “Would I have loved for you to go to Harvard? Of course I would have, but if you’re not happy, what good does that do? Your mother will come around. She's just upset about her relationship with Mary and Tony.”

You nod your head and sit on the couch beside your dad, turning to him slightly. A small smile forms on your face as he asks, “so tell me about your new boyfriend.”

Eddie’s chocolate brown eyes flash across your brain like a pair of Christmas ornaments on a tree decorated only for you. “He’s from Hawkins, and works at Jimmy’s Garage during the summer and on the weekends during the school year. He’s in a band, which is playing tonight if you want to go with me so you can meet him. He’s super nice, and I think you’ll really like him. He’s nothing like Steve, so just try not to judge his appearance, he makes me really happy and he adores me, I’m sure mom won’t approve because he’s not Steve but I hope she comes around.”

“Did you know Tony and I were in a band once? It’s actually how I met your mom.” Your dad remarked. “I think sometimes your mom forgets where we came from to get to where we are now.” He says looking around your living room. “What time is the show? And as for not judging, maybe I should have been more judging of Steve then you wouldn’t have had this happen to you. Drugs are not an excuse in my book.”

You explain the details of Corroded Coffin’s show to your dad and he heads into his study, agreeing to drive separately since you’ll be meeting Carrie there. You decide to go and take a nap, the show wasn’t for hours and you were tired from all the crying and fighting over the last few days. Laying on your pillow you could still smell the faint notes of Eddie’s cologne against your sheets.

***

A knock on your door lightly drags you out of your sleep. “Come in,” you say sleepily, looking at your alarm clock you see that you have slept through lunch and it’s nearing 4 o’clock. Your mother opens your door and pushes her way through with a tray of food.

“Thought we could have an indoor picnic like we used to when you got sick as a little girl” she says, sitting on the far end of your bed. She had cut strawberries and apples, sandwiches one with the crust cut off, and pudding cups.

She places one of each on a plate and slides it towards you. “Y/N, I wanted to apologize for my behavior, I am embarrassed at how I reacted to you and Steve breaking up. I should have been paying attention to how you were feeling towards everything instead I just kept pushing more and more onto you, never once asking if you liked what was going on. For that I am truly sorry.

“As a mother, you always want to see your child happy and give them the world, but sometimes the horse blinders get in the way and you can only see the destination, not the journey that leads you there. I am so upset that Steve hurt you. I don’t care about the situation or why it happened, the fact is that it did happen. Are you okay? Should we take you to the doctor for your eye? And what about your boyfriend? Is he okay?”

Your eyes are heavy with exhaustion and you finally feel like you can let loose the water gates of your emotions.

“I am okay, I was just really really scared, I slapped him after he said some horrible things and the next thing I knew I was on the ground bleeding,” you cry out, “I was worried that Steve was going to kill us, mom he was terrifying. I’ve never seen anyone act like that before, my eye doesn’t hurt, it just looks disgusting. There was a lot of glass embedded in my face but it’s out now,” you say with a small laugh, “and Eddie? he is okay too, his nose is broken but it got put back in place so I think he’ll be okay.”

You let the tears flow as your mom reaches out and hugs you tight, “I’m so sorry that happened to you both. I talked to Mary and she’s denying anything ever happened, she said your new boyfriend hit you and then paid someone to hit him to look like Steve did it… I guess she’s more delusional than I thought she was. I hung up after that and I couldn't take her babbling along anymore.”

You can’t help but laugh at how absolutely ridiculous this has gotten. It felt good to let your parents know what was happening while they were away.

“Oh and honey, your dad told me about the concert tonight, but I’m gonna stay home—but I want to meet your boyfriend soon, let’s plan on having him for dinner on Friday night okay?” Your mother hugs you tightly again for one more squeeze and releases you.

You both finish your little picnic and you jump in the shower to get ready for Eddie’s concert tonight. You’ve never been to a concert before and have no idea what you would actually wear to one. The idea of seeing Eddie up on stage has you every bit—hot and bothered. You had never seen Eddie play, the only thing close to it was the night you both took a bath after the best sex of your life when he played guitar across your arm and your stomach. Would he have groupies? Would they try to climb onto stage to get to him? To kiss your boyfriend?

The shower was supposed to help cool you down so you could actually get ready for the concert instead of fantasizing about Eddie hands. But it has only made it worse. The warm water marinating onto your skin like a warm blanket, hitting your perked up nipples.

You slide a hand between your legs and think of Eddie’s hands, the way his rings felt the night you met, biting at your hot flesh. The way they teased your nipples, pulling and twisting. The feel of them all over your body, holding you up while he fucked you at the garage. The gentleness to them when he washed your body in the tub… your fingers are moving faster, circling against your clit, you are squeezing your tits and moaning quietly to yourself as you think of Eddie’s tongue against your body, hot and electrifying. The way it expertly snaps around your pussy, soaking it—- your release has your back arching, having to throw an arm out to catch yourself before you come crashing down literally and emotionally against the shower wall.

Well that was a first.

***

You settle on jeans and converse and a black tank top and borrow a leather jacket that your mom had from an old costume when her and your dad went bikers two Halloweens ago.

It’s 5:45 when you finish getting ready and you decide to call Eddie.

“Hello?” A gruff voice only to be recognized as Wayne’s barks through the receiver.

“Hey Wayne, it’s Y/N, how are you doing?” You smile widely.

“Ohh Y/N! Called to talk to me huh, well I am doing just fine, about ready to eat some grub here before going into work tonig— no she didn’t ask for you, she’s talking to me— fine, it was nice talking to you Y/N, have fun at the show tonight!”

“Sorry sweetheart, apparently Wayne thinks you called to talk to—no I made the cupcakes!”

You could listen to them banter back and forth all day, it truly was hilarious but also heart warming.

“Goddamn, sorry baby, how are you? I’ve missed you so much today!” Eddie said. You could hear him walking around the trailer, presumably to his room.

“I’m good just missing you, how was work?” you ask, you would save the details of you having to touch yourself for later.

Eddie explains that he got the drive shaft fixed on Wayne’s pickup and it was up and running again, one of his side projects was almost finished and how Jake was so hungover from last night he put the wrong oil in Principal Higgins’ car and had to drain it completely, and do it all over again. He is giggling like a little kid.

“Christ I missed you baby, I can’t wait to see you tonight, you’re still coming right?” He asks all too quickly.

“Of course, I am bringing a guest with me. I hope that’s okay?” you say shyly.

“Yeah, whatever makes you happy, who is it, a girl for Jeff?”

“It’s my dad, I talked to my parents today about you and he really wants to meet you so I invited him to your gig tonight,” you retorted, “I think it kinda brought up some nostalgia for him. He was telling me that he used to be in a band which is weird because he’s never mentioned before in my entire life.”

Silence

“Eddie?”

“Y-your dad wants to m-meet me, TONIGHT?!” Eddie shrieks in shock, “sweetheart I’ve never met anyone's parents before, not even Gareth’s!”

“Eddie, baby it’ll be okay, I promise! He was super cool about it. I told them everything about what happened with Steve and they both just wanted to make sure you were okay!” you say reassuringly, “I wouldn’t put you in a shitty situation, I swear.”

You can hear Eddie’s ragged breath on the other end of the line, breathing in and out with a loud sigh, “I’d do anything for you sweetheart, even this, even though I’m scared shitless and will more than likely puke on stage into the microphone— I’d do it for you to see you smile.”

“ oh Eddie , I'm so excited to see you on stage! What time do you want us there?!”

****

After deciding what time to be there and where it’s actually located, you pull up to The Hideout a little after 7:30. Your dad followed behind you to Hawkins in his own car promising to give you and Eddie some time to hangout after their set was over.

You park your car towards the back of the dirt parking lot and your dad parks next to you. Walking in with your dad to a bar to see your boyfriend play with his band is something you never thought you would do in your wildest dreams. You can hardly contain your excitement. You felt empty without Eddie around you and couldn’t wait to jump into his arms, after your dad had left for the night of course.

Walking up to the front doors you finally got to take in The Hideout for all it was worth. Black painted brick on the outside with a big heavy metal door. Neon lights pointing with an arrow signaling that there was live music stood on the roof, only the ‘V’ wasn’t lighting up. You throw open the doors and the smell of cheap beer, and cigarettes fills your nasal passages. Your dad tried to fit in the best he could, he wore jeans and a flannel he had found in the garage in a box labeled to give away. Heads turn as the pair of you walk in, the amount of hair in this bar is impressive, either beards down to belly buttons or hair down past the shoulders, either way it could make Cousin It jealous. Your dad ushers you both over to the bar, him ordering a beer and ordering you a Shirley temple. The counter is sticky and full of napkins, the bartender is a large man with a beer belly and a long beard that’s braided.

“I haven’t been in a bar like this in almost twenty years,” your dad says, shouting over the jukebox, “ they all smell exactly the same,” he says with a laugh.

You smile widely and crane your neck looking for Eddie. You spot Jeff on stage tuning his guitar and look to the left and finally see Eddie, and you swear it’s like the first time you had laid eyes on him. He’s tuning the guitar you saw in his room, he’s wearing his leather jacket, black jeans, boots and a bandana tied around his head. Gareth whispers to him and Eddie lets out a loud laugh smiling from ear to ear.

“That’s him,” you point out to your dad, “Eddie!” you call waving a hand above your head. Eddie sees you and his face immediately lights up. He jumps down from the stage and jaunts over to you and your dad. You refrain from jumping in Eddie’s arms and kissing him all over his face and neck, your core throbbing at just the sight of him.

“Eddie, this is my dad, Dan,” you introduce him, “dad, this is my boyfriend, Eddie.” Your dad shakes Eddie’s hand and beams at him.

“So you’re the guy who protected my daughter against that asshat Steve?” your dad asked.

“Uh, yes sir, I’m sorry I didn’t do a very good job though, she still got hurt.” Eddie says, lowering his head like a kicked dog.

“From what Y/N said he was pretty unhinged and came out of nowhere, thank you for saving her. Who knows what would have happened if you weren’t there.” Your dad slaps Eddie on the shoulder, “now, was that a Warlock I saw you tuning up there?”

Eddie’s eyes sparkle with the special interest your dad has taken in him. You watch in awe as Eddie and your dad go back and forth discussing different types of guitars and how even though “Free Bird” was a favorite from Lynyrd Skynyrd, Eddie and your dad agreed that “Gimme Three Steps” was better. You had never heard your dad talk about these things before, he was usually strictly business and when he talked to Steve it was always about law school.

Gareth and Jeff and the 4th Corroded Coffin member, Big D, wave to Eddie to signal that they’re about to start. Eddie shakes your dad's hand and gives you a hug telling you he would find you after the show. You whisper quickly into his ear about how you had to “release some tension” before you came to the bar. Eddie’s throat bobs as he swallows and his eyes go dark.

“Behave,” he whispers darkly into your ear. You let out a giggle and he adjusts his pants walking back to the stage.

You and your dad sit at a black table closest to the stage, Gareth gets your attention and points to a curly haired girl standing by the door wearing a pink sweater, “that’s her!” He mouths to you. You get up from the table and walk straight to Carrie, she looks extremely nervous and is shifting her eyes back and forth between the greasy haired men littering the tables, throwing peanut shells everywhere.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Eddie’s girlfriend, you’re gonna hangout with me at the table nearest the boys away from these creeps.” you say, eyeing the tables around you. Carrie softens her eyes and smiles quickly as you take her hand and guide her towards the table one away from your dad.

Eddie jumps up on stage and leans into the mic, “thank you everyone for showing up tonight, we are Corroded Coffin! We do cover songs and sometimes our own songs depending on the week. Holler out a request and we will try our best.”

Gareth starts the beginning of For Whom the Bell Tolls by Metallica and Eddie and Jeff start riffing on their guitars. Eddie looks like sex on a stick as he starts to sing, you didn’t think you could possibly be more attracted to a single person in your whole life. The way his fingers are moving on the guitar makes your clit throb, and with each throb comes a tingle of your nipples, aching, begging to be touched. As he sings he winks at you and you practically feel your panties get wet with greed.

“Wow, they’re really good!” Carrie says, practically drooling over Gareth, “Gareth looks so cute, look how hard he’s concentrating!”

The bar is whooping and hollering along to the song. Eddie’s voice is so sexy, so unbelievably sexy, it’s only the first damn song and your panties are already dripping wet. All you wanted to do was run up on stage and kiss him, everywhere. You wanted to feel Eddie’s arms wrap around you, feel his lips on every square inch of your body, feel the familiar cold sting of his rings on your hot skin. Thank God your dad drove separately because you won’t be able to contain yourself after they’re done playing tonight.

The song ends and Carrie claps and cheers Gareth’s name, he looks over at her and winks. The look in her eyes is pure lust. “He really likes you,” you say nodding to Gareth.

“He does!?” Carrie asks confused, “I thought he wouldn’t be into me because I’m not.. usually into this type of music.”

“Well last night he was pretty drunk and he told me all about how he adores you,” you say, watching as Carrie starts beaming from ear to ear.

The boys keep playing and the crowd gets rowdier and rowdier, shouting out requests. Spilt beer and cigarette butts litter the floor. After about 10 songs, Eddie’s hair is drenched with sweat and his jacket and shirt are tossed across the stage behind Gareth.

Eddie takes a minute to catch his breath, he grabs the mic stand and lets out a sigh, “Alright this last one we’ve only played a few times but it’s one of my favorites,”

Eddie cranks out the beginning notes of “Gimme Three Steps”, you look over at your dad who is grinning like a possum eating shit. He’s banging his head along to the beat as Eddie starts singing,

“I was cutting the rug at a place called the Jug with a girl named Linda Lou,

when in walked a man, with a gun in his hand and he was looking for you know who.

He said ‘hey there fella with the hair colored yellow

Whatcha tryin to prove?’

cause that’s my woman there and I’m a man who cares and this just might be all for you’

I said, ’excuse me”

The whole bar is up singing along with Eddie now including your dad. Seeing Eddie in his element doing something he loved was so hypnotic. Like you were in a trance and you only saw him, no one else was in the bar but the two of you. Every movement of his hands on the guitar was like him tugging on your heartstrings. Begging for your love, needing your love with every cell of your bodies.

The song finishes and the bar is cheering loudly for Eddie and the boys of Corroded Coffin. Your dad is whistling and shouting loudly, clapping his hands and pointing to Eddie like they were on a basketball team together. Big D slams his guitar into the stage floor shattering it into pieces, Gareth jumps off stage and swoops Carrie into a back bending kiss, her hair touching the floor. Eddie beams into the mic, “Thank you Hawkins! I’m Eddie Munson and we are Corroded Coffin!”

—————————————————————————

Y/N’s Dad (Dan) ‘s POV

Munson

It couldn’t be.

There is no way in hell that God’s timing or any sort of Satan’s tricks would do this to my daughter. There’s no way, absolutely no way.

Munson

I haven’t heard that name in years, eleven to be exact. I knew that the boy still lived in Hawkins, but how the hell could Y/N be associated with him? The rumors about his dad were true, he was a murdering piece of shit, getting his own son thrown in juvy for refusing to take full responsibility for his crimes. How do I know this?

Because I’m the one who put him in prison.

———————————————————————————

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