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bettyfrommars · 9 months

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I'm on Fire

Part 13: This Heart is Haunted

18+Only, mature content, angst, reader is being stalked, mention of physical & emotional abuse, biker MC, unprotected sex, sex with someone other than reader, exes are everywhere, mention of battling cancer, home invasion, tarot reading, spiritual guidance, mention of a gun, mention of taking someone's life, hurt & comfort. wc: 8.6k

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Summary: Reader and Eddie are very much in love as the world piles on again. Both of their exes are in town, and Craig leaves a disturbing calling card to let reader know he is watching. Steve is properly introduced to Charlene in more ways than one, Astrid tries to protect Steve in the best way she knows how, and we get a peek into what Wayne "Uncle" Munson is thinking

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"Wendy let me in, I wanna be your friend I want to guard your dreams and visions Just wrap your legs 'round these velvet rims And strap your hands across my engines."

Born to Run - Bruce Springsteen

I'm on Fire Part 13: This Heart is Haunted

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John Gregson sent you a generous down payment for his commissioned painting, and most of it went right to the art store with you to by a roll of canvas, new paints, and brushes. Eddie went with you, and insisted on driving your car, but not before he had to adjust the driver’s seat all the way back so that he wasn’t eating his knees. He found a paint-by-numbers color pack of a dragon for Oliver, and crept up behind you, pretending to be someone else.

“Excuse me, miss? You are so fine,” he whispered in the sketchbook aisle. “Are you single, by chance?”

You checked to each side of you, feigning to look for him. “There’s this one guy I fuck from time to time, but it’s not serious.”

“Oh, is that right?” Eddie tickled your ribs, and then picked you up off your feet, munching down on the side of your neck with his teeth. “You better take it back.”

“You’re gonna get us kicked out,” you wiggled free with a laugh that seemed to echo off of the store walls, shoes squeaking on the linoleum.

Eddie wouldn’t let you carry anything on the way out to the car, and you did not miss some of the feminism that left your body in that moment as he held one of the bags in his teeth. The canvas roll was almost too long for the back seat, and you had a moment of panic, but then Eddie figured it out, clapping for himself after and taking a small bow.

The big, scary biker with the tattooed hands and the War Machine insignia kindly reminded you to fasten your seat belt, just as he clicked on his own and slipped his sunglasses on.

“I don’t know, Munson,” you grinned into the sun as he backed out of the parking space. “You’ve been such a help today, there might be some roadhead on the menu.”

He slammed the brakes and snapped his head to look at you, his hair flying, making you get the giggles. “See, now you’ll have to forget I said anything. I want it to be a surprise.”

He continued backing out, checking over his shoulder. “Surprise roadhead could kill a man, baby. You gotta give me some warning.”

So far, it had been the most chill day since before you’d been fired. You were sinking into the routine of “normal” couples, doing mundane chores together, holding hands in public, being sickeningly, adoringly head over heels for each other. And it felt really good. So good, in fact, you could almost forget for a second about all of the shit that had gone wrong, and could possibly go wrong.

Much earlier that morning as you lay curled up naked next to him in bed with your leg over him and your head on his chest, listening to a song by Mother Love Bone pour out softly from the stereo in Eddie’s apartment, he asked what you were thinking.

You’d been quiet for a while, zoning out, touching your fingertips to his as he spread them out to meet yours across the menacing bat tattoo on his chest.

“It’s silly,” you mumbled, kissing his shoulder with the side of your mouth. The morning was warm with a soft breeze blowing one of the long, blue curtains out into the room, and above the sound of the music came the rumble of motorcycles rolling into the compound, and electric drill firing in the garage across the way.

“Still,” he rested his head on yours. “I want to hear it. I want to know what goes on in that quirky brain of yours.”

As comfortable as you were with Eddie at that point, you were shy about admitting some of your deep-seated insecurities. What if you spoke them out loud and they came true? What if you started to let him know what went on in your “quirky”, anxiety riddled brain, and it scared him off?

You decided to take a chance, burying your face a bit more in the indentation of his armpit. “In the past, whenever I've felt genuine happiness, or everything seemed to be going really well, that’s always when everything would go to shit. So, I have this fear that—”

“---that you’re going to lose me?” Eddie interrupted softly, sliding his fingers down to intertwine with yours.

“Well, yeah,” you admitted. “Exactly that. Losing you, or something happening to Katie or Steve’s family. Anyone I care about.”

“The same shit happens to me in my head,” he promised. “It almost won’t let me enjoy whatever good thing is happening because I’m already thinking about how it could get fucked up. I’m always anticipating the next bad thing.”

“We are a sad pair,” you snorted a laugh.

“Hey, really though, listen to me,” he squeezed you tighter. “You’re not going to lose me, baby, fuck that. As long as we tell each other what is going on and we don’t have any secrets, no one can fuck with us. I won’t let anyone fuck with us.”

You propped up on your forearm to meet his eyes; they were bright brown and earnest. You swept his bangs to the side with your fingertips. “Well, that’s good to know because I don’t think I’d survive this level of heartbreak.”

“I won’t ever break your heart,” Eddie searched your face, running his knuckle down your cheek. “And if you break mine, I’ll probably sulk around for the rest of my life, just a shell of a man, playing songs on the street corner for loose change.”

You chuckled and scooted closer to kiss his mouth. “What are the deal breakers for you in a relationship? Something you could never forgive?”

He squinted curiously at you. “Are you trying to walk that line, sweetheart?”

“No,” you bit your lip through a smile, but then dropped your head back to the warm skin of his shoulder. “My deal breaker is cheating. I can forgive a lot of things, but never that.”

Eddie took a big inhale, thinking about this, but then he swallowed hard. “Just the thought of another man touching you, past or present, makes me see red, baby.”

There was a tension in the air as Eddie considered the crushing weight of said betrayal, and you bit at a piece of skin on your thumb, thinking about the complex inner workings of Eddie Munson.

To break the heavy silence, you started crawling on top of him, kissing his neck, working your core against his stiff morning wood. Eddie held your face and sucked at your bottom lip, running his tongue along the soft skin there, while you pressed the slick of your slit on his cock, arousal already evident.

“Would you really kill someone for me, baby?” You breathed, reminded of how he said he would kill or die for you.

“Without question,” he hissed at your wetness, reaching down to line the tip of his cock up with your entrance.

You sank down quickly, needing all of him with fluttering urgency. “When I think of someone, I will let you know,” you hushed. He cursed into your mouth and spanked your ass as you rode him, knowing that this was the only cock you would have inside of you for the rest of your life, and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

Back in the sunny parking lot outside of the art supply store, Eddie continued on behind the wheel, pausing for a group of people as they strolled into he store, hand on your leg, squeezing your knee as he waited. He angled the car down in front of a clothing store, on his way to exit onto the street, and had to wait for a couple more people to cross.

You weren’t paying attention, too absorbed at the time pawing through the bag of goodies in your lap, fingering the new pastels and linseed oil with glee. But Eddie’s fingers dug into your leg and gripped there in a way that made you glance over at him.

Waiting at the crosswalk, Eddie’s skin drained of color as he watched the people pass in front of the car. You followed his attention: there was an older woman, perhaps 50, two younger girls maybe ages 7 or 8, a pretty blonde girl around 30, and a woman who could have been a supermodel with long, auburn hair, a short denim skirt, and a dragon tattoo on her thigh.

Your attention rose to Eddie and his nostrils flared, blinking a few times, teeth grinding.

For whatever reason, the tension made you nervous. “Baby, what is it? What’s wrong? Do you know them?”

Eddie swallowed, patting your leg a few times, forcing a smile that did not reach his eyes. “It’s nothing sweetheart. I just remembered something I had to do later on, that’s all.”

Not even a full day had passed since you’d both agreed to never to keep anything from each other, and there he was, lying already. He knew that you could tell he was withholding something, which made it even worse. His hope at the time was, if he ignored it, maybe it would go away.

Somehow, Melanie coming into town had almost slipped his mind, until he saw her there with his very own eyes walking with Chrissy, her mom, and her twin daughters. She looked different, but also exactly the same. The difference was that he no longer found her attractive; she might as well of had rotting flesh rolling off her bones for how repulsed he was to see her there in the street. He wasn’t afraid to tell you, he just didn’t want it to be real, he wanted to ignore her until she left town, and you could live in the bliss of never being able to put a face to her.

First of all, Eddie was a horrible liar. It was not hard for you to put the pieces together and realize that he did know one of the women in that group, if not all of them. But, you took one last look at his profile, told him you loved him, and decided to let it go. For now.

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A few days earlier, after the incident with Inky, Steve rolled up to the house at dawn to find Robin waiting up at the kitchen table. She was having a cigarette with her coffee, and Robin never smoked. He watched her bite into her thumbnail, chew it off, and then spit it on the floor as he stepped into the room.

“What’s up?” Steve shut the sliding door behind him and locked it. “Where’s Oliver?”

Robin put her finger to her lips to ask him to ask him to keep it down. She saw how he was favoring his freshly bandaged hand, but chose not to ask questions. “Katie is asleep,” she flicked the end of her cig over the ashtray. “Oliver spent the night with Wayne.”

Cautiously, Steve clapped down into the seat across from her, wallet chain hitting first, motioning for her to slide the pack of bargain basement knockoff cigarettes over. He had his own lighter, but she shot the box of matches over to him as well. Striking the match to light his smoke, Steve bucked his chin at the manila envelope she had next to her. “What’s in there?”

Robin brushed her hair off of her face and hunched forward. “Oh it’s just a little something. Might cheer you up.”

She pushed the envelope toward him with the pads of her fingers, both sets of eyes on it as it traveled across the faux wood surface. Now Steve knew exactly what it was when he saw the label on the front but even then, he was riddled with confusion.

“How did you--?”

A part of Steve knew, even though there’s no way he could’ve had any idea where Robin went that night or what she’d said to Tina to get her to sign her rights to Oliver away. Or the gun she’d pointed loaded and proud, letting them know there were only two ways the night could end, and both involved her walking away with those signatures. The saddest part was how quickly Tina had agreed to take the money in exchange for Oliver; there hadn’t even been a glimmer of internal struggle. Robin told herself it was for the best though, and once Oliver was old enough to ask questions, he would never know about that night, or how quickly he’d been given up.

Now, they really were broke, even more than before, and without any safety net to fall back on. But, no one would ever show up and try to take their son away again without facing legal ramifications, and Robin might’ve also let her know that she wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in her throat if she ever tried to get sneaky. “If you take Oliver, Steve and I will have nothing to lose. You know what they say about not wanting to fuck with someone who has nothing to lose.”

Steve peeked inside, exhaling a long, hot breath. After sucking on his lip for a few seconds, he raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “You’re telling me you got her to sign these and you got them notarized?”

“Katie,” Robin squinted and took another drag. The sleeve of her flannel fell down to expose the vine of an ivy tattoo on her forearm.

“She’s a notary? No shit?” he said the last part under his breath, chuckling a bit to himself.

Katie’s old job status as a notary public was a small detail that Robin had been fascinated to discover. Meeting up at a seedy motel in the middle of the night in her pajamas did not put Katie in a particularly compliant mood, but she offered her official services without too much of a fight. In fact, she had to admit later how much it had turned her on to find her girlfriend holding two people at gunpoint like that. It made her feel like she was in an episode of 21 Jump Street.

Steve rubbed one eye with the palm of his hand. The other hand, the one Astrid had cleaned and put a fresh bandage on for good measure, had just been used as a deadly weapon and pummeled a guy to the brink of death just the day before. He’d do it again in a heartbeat because no one threatened his family and got away with it. “Jesus, fuck, Rob. You know I love you, right?”

“Oh, you better,” she snorted a laugh, and then, softly,“I’d do anything for Ollie. And you. You know this,” and then she smashed the cigarette out in the ashtray. She couldn’t look him in the eye for fear the floodgates would open.

A sob hitched in his chest and he had to clear his throat. He really was on some real emotional bullshit lately and he made a fist with his good hand and banged it on the table, trying to collect himself. “Ditto.”

Robin got up and stretched her arms back with a yawn. “I’m going back to bed for an hour. You at the shop this afternoon?”

“Until late, yeah,” Steve couldn’t take his eyes off of the envelope. “I’m working on that chest piece for Thor.” Thor was one of the other Coffin Kings, a huge, beastly blonde dude with a long, braided beard.

Robin braced her hands on the back of the chair. “You thought anymore about going to Scott’s wedding this weekend?”

“Scott, you mean Daphne’s Scott?” Steve shook his head. “I haven’t thought about it at all, actually. There’s no way I’m going to that.”

Steve had only met Scott once at one of their barbecues, and Daphne knew Robin because her daughter and Oliver were the same age, but the last place Steve wanted to be stuck at was a wedding for two people he barely knew, or any wedding at all for that matter.

“You sure?” Robin craned her neck. “There’s going to be an open bar at the reception.”

“Nah, I got a thing on Saturday,” Steve waved his hand. “Take Katie, why don’t you?”

“I’ll think about it,” Robin worked her neck from side to side. “What do you have on Saturday?”

For some reason, a voice inside of Steve whispered that he should keep his plans vague. “Body guard gig,” he offered in a bored tone. He didn’t have to ask to know that Robin must’ve had to have paid off Tina somehow, and now they’d need some extra cash more than ever. What he wanted to do was change the subject. “Any word from Susie or Dustin?”

“Now that you mention it,” Robin scratched her cheek. “She’s due any day now and no, I haven’t heard a word. I should’ve checked in, I’ve just been out of my mind lately.”

“Dustin knows we’re in the thick of it,” Steve assured her. “We’re the first ones on the call list when she does go into labor, but I’ll give him a ring this afternoon to say hey.” He yawned, blinking his tired eyes a few times. “Should I take Ollie to the shop with me?”

“No, after Wayne drops him off, I got him,” Robin stole a curious look at Steve, knowing full well that there was something he wasn’t telling her. She was too exhausted in that moment to ask any questions as she turned to head down the hall. “Take a shower, dingus. You look like death warmed over.”

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Wayne always kept his shotgun up high in a locked closet whenever the kid came to stay, but when he returned from dropping Ollie off with his parents, he stood there at the open closet looking around for a minute. He fingered through the flannels and old jackets, skidding the wire hangers along the wooden dowel, until he found the frayed denim edge he was looking for. He yanked back the line of clothes so he could pull the article of clothing out and take a look at it.

It was his original denim with the sleeves cut off, known as a cut, or Kutte, with the Coffin Kings MC insignia on the back. The matching insignia among club members were all “cut” from the same cloth. He held it up and wiped his hand down it a few times, as if to dust it off, looking over the worn and road weary patches, including the one with his nickname “Uncle” over the pocket, because he’d been an honorary uncle to so many, including Steve and Astrid.

He took it over to the mirror on the back wall of his bedroom, set the hanger on the chair and pulled the denim on over his white tee, adjusting the collar, working his shoulders through. Chemo had taken a lot of his size, and so it hung a bit loose, but the shoulder muscles were still there, and he flexed his hands, knowing they could still deftly maneuver a blade or a gun, just like the old days.

Sticking out of the side of the mirror was was a black and white photo that had been bent in half and wrinkled over time. A photo of a much younger Wayne, Astrid’s mother Evelyn with her jet black hair over her shoulder in a braid, and Steve and Eddie as little kids; not much older than Oliver. The boys wanted to be a part of the life so bad, even then, that Evie made them their own vests, complete with Munson and Harrington patches and the Coffin Kings skull on the back. Evie had her hand on Wayne’s chest in the photo, gazing up at him, and Wayne’s arm was around her shoulders, but his eyes were on Steve, his mouth open about to say something. Steve was making a face, his mouth in a grimace to expose two missing front teeth, both of his arms up, flexing to pretend he had muscles. Eddie was more stoic, his expression set without emotion as he stared into the camera, hands in fists at his sides, feet braced wide. Off to the side was young Astrid. She was a few years older than the boys, but still a baby. Wayne remembered she didn’t want to be in the photo, but Steve started acting out to get her to come over, and there she was, face slightly blurred as she tried to move away, but a smile on her face nonetheless.

Wayne met his eyes in the mirror; windows to a soul that was familiar but set in a face he no longer recognized. He thought about his panhead motorcycle collecting dust at the storage unit across town. He thought about how badly he wanted to protect Oliver from the horrors of this world, from the MC life. The boy liked to paint and draw and bake things, and Wayne didn’t understand that either, but he didn’t see the lust for danger in his eyes like he had with Steve and Eddie; Steve, especially. Like he wanted to turn the world on its head and dump it out to see how it worked. Maybe he had the love of a good mom for that, the kind of mom that stuck around. He thought about all of the things this disease had already taken from him, but it wouldn’t take this. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.

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You’d stayed at Eddie’s for the past two nights in a row, and even though he would have you there with him every night if he had his way, you needed to set up your art room and take advantage of one of your afternoon off to work on John’s commission before you went back to the Hammer. You needed to stretch and frame the large canvas first, a meticulous process that took place in the garage, and then put up painters plastic around the art room so you wouldn’t flick paint around on the walls of the rental.

Eddie had brought you to work and picked you up the night before, and he took you home that next day in the tow truck so he could head to a job after. He popped in at the diner on the way to grab two coffee’s to go in tall white, Styrofoam cups. The older, married waitress there named Donna had a crush on both him and Wayne, and always gave him free stuff, for which they tipped handsomely. He came out of the diner holding the two cups up, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Things with Donna and I are getting serious, just so you know,” Eddie climbed up into the cab and passed your coffee to you, and then leaned over for a kiss once he was behind the wheel. “Black with two sugars for my lady.”

“Well, I don’t blame her one bit,” you clicked your tongue, leaning over to smell the fresh brew through the mouth opening in the lid and feel the steam on your skin, snuggling down into one of Eddie’s hooded sweatshirts. “Now I need to find an older, married boyfriend, and we’ll be even.”

What was meant to be a joke hit a little different because of the whole John Gregson situation, but Eddie snorted a chuckle as he put his cup in the holder on the dash. “You’re gonna turn me into a homicidal maniac if you’re not careful, sweetheart.”

As he got back on the main road toward your place, a glimmer caught your eye. The guitar pic on the ball chain hanging from the rear view mirror had always been there, but now there was a little, silver worry ring on the chain too, hanging flush with the red pick. It was the worry ring you usually wore on your thumb that you’d thought you had lost weeks ago. You reached up to take a better look and make sure.

“Baby, what is my ring doing here?”

Eddie took a wide turn, sucking his cheek, realizing he was properly caught red handed. “You left it on the nightstand that first time you came over,” he answered.

Your mouth fell open to goad him. “Why didn’t you tell me you found it?”

Eddie’s eyes found the ring in question where it swayed with the movement of he vehicle. “I don’t know, I think I meant to, but then I kinda liked having it in here with me. Whenever I look at it, I think about you. Something stupid like that.”

Your heart rushed, sending waves of heat through your veins. You were staring at his profile now, unable to look away, absolutely, wholly filled to the brim with love for this man.

“You really got it bad for me, don’t cha Munson?”

He offered a small nod and a shrug, tapping his thumb on the steering wheel to the beat of the music.

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It was almost 9am by the time Eddie dropped you off at the duplex. Katie was already at the school, and your orange tabby cat Charlie was in a mood, so you sat on the couch with him for a bit while you finished your coffee. Although Charlie loved affection, he was normally such a chill dude, but that morning he didn’t want to leave your side even after you put his favorite gravy bits breakfast in his food dish. You had been gone for a couple nights in a row, but you always came by during the day to check on him, so it wasn’t as if he’ been abandoned. It was almost as if he was trying to tell you something.

You stroked his ears back and kissed the top of his head. “Tell me, my boy, what’s on your mind?” But he only meowed, nuzzling closer, massaging his claws into your leg.

You ate some granola and dropped your bag on the floor at the end of your bed without turning the light on, heading straight into the bathroom for a much needed shower. You let the water get as hot as you could handle it, noticing the bruises on your hips for the first time from the way Eddie man-handled you during sex. You smiled against the stream of water at the memory.

Charlie was sitting on the sink with his tail curled around his feet when you opened the shower curtain, staring you down. “Close your eyes,” you told the cat as you clutched in the air for the green bath towel that was hooked over the metal dowel.

At least, you thought it was hanging there, but now you were grabbing at air because it was on the floor. You wiped water from your eyes and snapped another look at Charlie before you bent down to pick it up. “Did you do this?”

You were mumbling to yourself, wrapping the towel around your body and stepped out onto the mat. You remembered closing the bathroom door, but now it was open and you imagined that Charlie had pushed it open with his brute strength. You paused to put some moisturizer on your face, and then turned to open the door the rest of the way and face the bed, and that was when you realized there was something terribly wrong.

The bed was made; everything neatly tucked, comforter folded back at an angle, as an invitation. Had it been that way before you went into the shower? You wouldn’t know because you hadn’t turned the light on to look. The pile of clean laundry you’d thrown on the messy bed just the day before were nowhere to be found. You weren’t freaking out yet, not when you knew that Katie went into turbo cleaning fits when she was stressed, and there had been a lot going on with Robin lately. But it wasn’t like her to come into your space while you were gone and mess with your things.

A fear began to bubble inside of you as you clutched the towel tighter around your body, senses heightened as you inched over to check down the hall and in the closet. You were starting to feel so afraid that your hands got cold as shock began to set in preemptively.

With trembling fingers, you took hold of the wood knob and pulled open the top drawer of your dresser, only to jump back, covering your mouth to try and trap the scream that erupted.

Your underwear and socks were neatly folded into color coded rows. You yanked out the drawer under that and the next, only to find the same symmetry of tediously folded clothing. The second drawer fell all the way out and crashed to the carpet. In a frenzy, you dove forward and started scooping all of the clothing out of the drawers, yanking them all to the floor, making them a mess, throwing them around the room, tears running hot down your cheeks. You didn’t stop until the bottom drawer was empty; the drawer that had a few pieces of lingerie and silky pajama sets, all of it had been sorted and folded in the exact same way.

You covered your nose and mouth with your hands and sat down on the bed, taking sharp inhales, adrenaline preparing you for some kind of fight, flight, or fawn: whichever would keep you from eminent danger. There was and ocean in your ears.

You did not do this.

Katie would not do this.

The only person in the world who would ever do this

was your maniacal, neat freak ex fiance Craig.

Now you could hear a footstep creak on the wood planks in the hall just outside your bedroom and from behind you on the bed, Charlie hissed.

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Eddie didn’t have to take the long way back by your street with the old Chrysler on the back of the tow, but he did anyway, just because he liked being in your vicinity. Much like the “old days” when he would ride by your work, back when he thought you wouldn’t give him the time of day.

As he turned onto the street, he could see the front of your duplex on the corner, but his smile faded when he saw the front door was open. Not open just a crack, but open all the way, exposing the interior or the house, and you didn’t have a screen door, so he wouldn’t imagine you’d leave it that way on purpose. What if your cat got loose? He took a sharper turn than he should have to line the truck and pull along the opposite side of the street to park it, doing his best not to crush your neighbors garbage can, all the while keeping his eyes on the entrance, thinking maybe you’d appear and there would be some explanation.

He paused before crossing the street as a guy in a hunter green utility vehicle inched its way to the stop sign. The driver stared Eddie down as he went at a crawl, and Eddie was taken aback to be aggressively eyeballed by a stranger, but he returned the heated glare, bucking his chin. “Fuck’s your problem, man?” Eddied shouted, shrugging his hands in the air. The guy gave an open mouth smile, and made a motion of dragging his fingers across his throat, just before he stomped on the gas and flew through the stop sign, taking a right. Normally, Eddie would’ve taken more notice of the details of the license plate and whatnot, but his attention quickly returned to your open door, taking long strides to the opposite sidewalk.

Eddie looked around before he stepped inside, hand on the hilt of his knife. “Baby? Are you in here?” He asked it softly so it wouldn’t scare you. “It’s Eddie. Your door is wide open.”

His ears followed the sound of things being tossed around, and something heavy hitting the ground with a wooden crack. But then you screamed and his heart tightened as he bolted down the hall.

“Baby?” He entered your bedroom to find all of your dressers drawers open, and two on the ground, clothes scattered everywhere. You jumped when you saw him, scrambling back with a shriek, clutching a towel to the front of your body so that you wouldn’t be exposed.

You were afraid of him, or whoever you thought he was. Cheeks wet with tears, eyes wild like a feral animal caught in a trap. You backed all the way to the wall with your hand out, palm up, before you realized who it was.

“Eddie?” Relief flooded through you, and you dropped the towel, stark naked, to run into his arms, a sob choking in your throat. The feel of his denim and cool of his belt bucket against your skin helped to soothe your nerves, taking a deep inhale of the woodsy spice scent of his aftershave.

Eddie’s mind was reeling as he held you tight; one hand cupped behind your neck and the other at your back rubbing in slow circles. “It’s me, baby. It’s just me.”

You blinked hard, wishing he’d never had to see you like this, wishing you’d never have to tell him about Craig and why you were so afraid of him. You had no proof that your ex had actually been in your house, but also---you had all the proof you needed. This kind of sick fuck head game was right up Craig’s alley. But how had he found you? How would you ever get rid of him now? You didn’t want Eddie to have to get involved with this mess. Sure, Eddie was tough, but Craig was certifiable, and you were well aware that there was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep you in his life.

You buried your face in Eddie’s chest and wrapped your arms as tight as possible, wishing you could both run away and disappear and not have to deal with any of this.

“Talk to me, baby,” Eddie said in a lower octave than normal, his blood boiling. “Who did this to you?”

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That afternoon on Friday, Steve went to meet the woman he’d be doing security for the next day. He gave a low whistle as he rolled up to the main gates, “holy shit,” he mumbled, pinching a smoke between his lips, lighting it while his bike idled and he pushed the buzzer to announce himself. He combed his fingers through his hair as he rode in over a blood stain that was embedded in the cement, shooting a look to the 10 car garage, wondering what kind of beauties were in there and hoping he’d get to drive one.

“Be careful,” Astrid had warned a few nights ago when he stayed at her place. She shuffled her Tarot deck and did a quick reading for him. She tapped her finger on one of the cards. “I don’t like the look of this. I think someone with a dark heart has their evil eye on you.” Without looking up at him, she continued. “I need to do a protection spell before you go.”

“Does that protection spell include you riding my face?” Steve scooted his chair forward, lunging to kiss her temple, but she shrugged him off, trying to concentrate.

Her eyes were sweeping over the cards she’d just pulled for him with a tense bundle of lines between her thick, dark eyebrows. “I’m serious Steve. It’s someone with power who wants to own you, and I think the offer will be very tempting. Think Satan in a Sunday hat.”

She pulled two more cards. Her eyes flicked from Steve to the table several times. “Are you going to some kind of formal event this weekend?”

Steve winced. “Not if I can help it, why?”

This gift that Astrid had was much deeper than deciphering the magic in a deck; she had always been able to see beyond the veil of the known world. It was her gift that kept her lonely, and more often than not, she saw it as a curse.

She sat back in her seat to look the cards over again for an unnerving amount of time. Her intuition was foggy, and she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what would go wrong yet, but there were multiple threats on the horizon and her gut told her it was time to circle the wagons.

Steve’s tongue flicked out to lick the corner of his mouth. “Don’t leave me hangin’ here, darlin’. Do I get kidnapped by a bunch of circus clowns, or what?”

Her eyes locked onto his, letting him know she was serious. “Watch your back this weekend, Stevie.”

He took her hand. “Don’t I always, sweetheart?”

He thought about Astrid’s words as he wound the bike around to park at the front door, exhaling smoke as he flicked the cigarette to the side. He slid his sunglasses up on top of his head, taking in the expanse of the entryway, heavy boots plodding up the steps. At his wrist on a thin leather band was the tiny charm and gemstone Astrid had made him wear after she dowsed him in sage smoke and said a bunch of words he didn’t understand.

Charlene greeted him in nothing but the tiniest of bikinis, a straw sun hat, and a blue and red kimono, and Steve couldn’t help but adjust himself in his jeans at the way her breasts were almost spilling out of the tiny yellow top.

She offered him a drink out by the pool under one of the umbrellas, and Steve accepted a beer.

“I should thank you again for bailing me out,” Steve took a drink, glad that his eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses because he couldn’t’ take them off her heaving rack; the way the sweat trickled down her tan cleavage. A pool boy in tight, cut off jean shorts was cleaning debris from the surface of the crystal clear pool with a net at the end of a long handle.

“Anytime,” Charlene was so very charming when she wanted to be. “A friend of Eddie’s is a friend of mine.”

Steve took a generous gulp and put his forearms on the table. “Yeah? You know my buddy Eddie?”

Charlene flipped her blonde hair off of her shoulder. “Has he never mentioned me? We go way back.”

“Never,” Steve said without hesitation, making Charlene frown. “Not that I remember anyway. But Eddie and I don’t talk as much anymore. We’ve been too fucking busy.”

That seemed to lighten her expression, but the thought did occur to Steve to wonder how Eddie got word to her that he was in jail? He was pretty sure he didn’t even know about what happened until the next day. But, fuck it. Who cares how she found out? He just wanted to get this bodyguard gig over with and get his cash.

They agreed on a price for an evening of Steve’s services, and then Charlene led him inside to guide him up the big, lavish staircase to a guest bedroom where she had a gray and white suit waiting for him. She unzipped the black Armani sleeve it was in and Steve gulped. His mind immediately raced thinking about how much he could pawn it for on Sunday if she let him keep it.

“My cousin is getting married tomorrow,” she perched at the end of the floral bedspread, watching him pick the suit up to admire it. “I guessed at your size, but I can have a tailor meet us here before we leave if it needs fixing.”

Sure, Steve had been a bouncer forever, and had worked as an extra bodyguard a few times for visiting celebrities, but a personal bodyguard and escort for a woman like Charlene? Never. He wasn’t even sure why she needed protection for a wedding; looking down at the suit, he felt more like a gigolo than hired muscle.

“Nah, I’m sure it’s perfect,” and then he eyeballed the wedding photo on the vanity of a much younger Charlene with some other dude. “Where is your husband these days? Why can’t he take you?”

Charlene stretched back so that she was spread out on the bed, the nipple of one breast poking out from under the thin material. Her body was toned and supple and not at all what he expected a woman in her mid 40’s to look like. “My husband leaves town a lot for work. He doesn’t ask what I do, and I don’t ask what he does.”

“Fair enough,” Steve flicked his tongue over his gold tooth, watching the way she arched her back, exposing herself to him, making him palm his erection through his denim.

“For instance,” Charlene reached behind her neck to undo the tie for her bikini top, pulling it down, letting him see the expensive titties in all their glory. “He left yesterday and won’t be home until next week.”

So, of course Steve fucked her. He came between her tits and gave her a pearl necklace made of his cum, liking the way it dripped down her throat. He fucked her ass because she begged him to, using only spit for lube, her face pressed into the mattress, until she came, and then Steve milked a few more bursts of cum onto her backside with a grunt.

He liked getting paid and getting laid at the same time. He felt like he’d been waiting his whole life for a perfect situation like this to fall into his lap.

---------

Eddie paced at the doorway, flexing his hands into fists, “so this Craig fucker came here to what? Terrorize you? Try and get you back? I will put a bullet in his skull.”

You gave Eddie the cliff notes version of your relationship with Craig while you got dressed. How you thought he was fun and charming at first, but once you moved in with him, things got scary. He wouldn’t let you talk to your friends or go anywhere without him. When you first got the courage to leave, he broke into the house you were staying at in the middle of the night and put a knife to your throat. He’d been honorably discharged from the military and used his connections in the police force to bypass the protection order you filed on him. He was emotionally and physically abusive and stalked you for two years before you were able to make it to Hawkins without much more than the clothes on your back, and Eddie was reeling with how bad he wanted to get his hands on this guy. It made him want to start going up and down every street looking for him, which was not totally out of the question.

He had to go outside on the back patio for a smoke and you followed him. You sat down in one of the camp chairs on the concrete slab facing a patch of lawn that was maintained by the owner of the duplex, but Eddie stayed on his feet. You watched the muscles in his jaw flex as he frowned into his cigarette, his thoughts going to dark and dangerous places.

From what you told him about what the guy looked like and the description of his car, that was the dude who had stared Eddie down earlier. He didn’t want to alarm you anymore than you already were by telling you that he saw him, that the fucker had probably been in your house while you were taking a shower. He couldn’t have you staying at the duplex anymore until he could make sure that creep was long gone, and by long gone, he meant he was ready to put him in the dirt. If anyone could find him, Eddie could. He had family of the Kings who worked at police dispatch, and he had eyes all over town, from other tow truck drivers to every member of several MC’s. If this guy thought he was so sneaky, Eddie could do him one better.

Eddie was in a bad mood, cracking his knuckles, thinking about how much he would enjoy hurting this guy, when he heard a sniffle and realized you were crying.

“Hey, hey,” he snubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray Katie had there for the smoking she did when she was buzzed, and got down on his knees in front of you. He wiped a single tear off your cheek with his thumb, holding your jaw with gentle force so you would look at him. “This guy, he’s not gonna get near you again, alright? You’re gonna stay with me until I know you’re safe.” He cupped his hand around your neck and pulled your forehead to his. “Hey, I love you. You trust me when I say I’ll protect you, right?”

“It’s not that,” your eyes went to the Munson’s Garage patch on the front of his light blue work shirt. You kept your forehead pressed to his because you couldn’t look him in the eye. “Craig is dangerous, baby. I mean, he’s really crazy. I don’t want you getting hurt or---”

Eddie sat back on his heels, tilting his head to meet you eyes. “And you don’t think I’m crazy? Baby. I know you get the fluffy side of Eddie but I can do dangerous and crazy with the best of them. Okay? That’s all I’ve ever done. No one is going to fuck with my girl.”

His chocolate eyes searched you, needing to know that you believed you were safe.

You gnawed at your lip, eyes dewy and bloodshot. “I just wish this wasn’t happening,” you dropped your head again, mouth jerking down with impending sobs. “I wish we could run away.”

“Sorry baby but, fuck that,” Eddie stood. “You had to run from this guy once, he’s not gonna get the satisfaction of scaring you off this time. You’ve got me now.”

He squatted again, motioning for you to give him your hand and then he held it tight, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. “And Steve and Robin and Wayne, and the whole Coffin Kings MC, baby. I want you to trust me. This fucker will be sorry he ever stepped foot in Hawkins.”

You slotted your hands on either side of his neck at his jawline, pulling him in, and the salt of your tears mingled in the kiss, your mouth opening wide to take him deeper. Unexpected moans of desperation escaped both of you, hands greedy for purchase on each other’s parts. You made it back inside the house just in time for Eddie to dive his hand down the waistband of your shorts.

“You’re mine,” he breathed, fucking two fingers up inside you, stifling your cry of pleasure with his mouth.

You scrambled to undo his jeans, pushing them down his hips. “I need you so bad, baby. Fuck me.”

There was no time to make it to the bedroom, you broke the kiss only long enough to bend over the kitchen island, shorts down, arching your ass up. Eddie swiped his cock along your glistening core only once before burying it inside of you groaning at the sensation. “Holy fuck, I love you,” Eddie murmured, proceeding to fuck his entire length inside, pulling your slit apart with his thumbs so that he could watch himself enter you.

You bucked back against him, meeting his urgency, biting your lip through hungry whimpers. Eddie shoveled his hand around the front of your throat and pulled you back, choking you with soft pressure while he other hand braced at your hip and he fucked you hard. He preferred to look at you when he was about to cum, but the two of you were frantic, and he was already close. Clinging to the counter, the wet slapping sounds of Eddie stretching you out were about to throw you over the edge. His hand moved from your throat to your mouth, dipping inside for you to suck them.

Eddie’s hips locked onto you as he came, and the sensation made your walls flutter, gripping him in a way that extended his orgasm, cursing, both of you crying out, able to forget about the worries of the world if only for those precious moments as you rode the high.

---------

At a decent chain Motel by a truck stop near the highway, Craig Ludlow paid for a week in advance and sat in the dark puffing a cigar by the window with the curtain tightly closed. An episode of The Twilight Zone was on the TV, and it was the only light but for the golden glow from the bathroom in the hall. On the table next to him was a razor blade on a mirror with white powder residue, a shot glass empty of its Jim Beam, and a handgun.

There had been an ugly landscape painting on the opposite wall, but he took it down to make room for his work. There was a big cork board there now, a place for all of the information he had on you and your little biker friends. Steve’s mugshot was up there, along with one of Eddie from 10 years earlier. Information on Wayne, Katie, the Velvet Hammer, every person or place you’d touched since you’d been to town. Somehow you’d slipped through his fingertips, and oh god, how he had missed you. Being a part of your life and knowing what you were up to was a part of who he was now, and he’d been feeling lost without it.

He planned use his connections to get in with Chief Hopper and make sure your new biker boyfriend had the law down his throat around every turn. Why was it so much to ask for you to let him love you? Your house was a mess, your bed not even made. Nothing in your drawers had been folded. It was obvious that you needed him and missed him and just didn’t know how to ask. You had always been such a prideful, silly goose.

A girl named Shari was working the night shift at the motel when she noticed, not for the first time, how odd the guy who checked into room 11 was. Shari happened to be the old lady of a Coffin Kings member named Jester, and she would tell him all about it, including the make and color of the SUV he drove, over the phone when he called to check up on her that evening. Coincidentally, War Machine had just let everyone know to keep an eye out for a creep of the same description who was stalking his girl. Jester headed over to make sure Shari was okay and waited in the shadows near the truck stop on his chopper, watching the lights from the TV flicker in room 11, keeping an eye on this guy so he could follow if he took off. Keeping him in his crosshairs to see if he should take care of this guy himself before he passed the word on to Eddie.

PART 14

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thank you so much for reading, my loves! Don't forget to tip your favorite stories/writers by commenting and/or reblogging ❤️

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#Eddie munson #Eddie munson series #I'm on Fire #Eddie Munson smut #biker!Eddie #biker!Steve #biker eddie munson #older!Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #90sau #steve harrington #Eddie Munson fanfic #Spotify

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munsonsmixtapes · 10 days

Note

Okay but a vanless eddie walks across hawkins to cuddle his best girl while she recovers from a leg injury.

Basically, she can't come to him, but he'll be damned if he's kept from her.

Toootally not because my busted leg is taking too long to heal and i am frustrated.

Hey! Thanks so much for the request! So sorry to hear about your leg and I wish you a speedy recovery!

Word count: 1,725

Eddie x fem!reader

CW: none!

Eddie stood in front of his van, trying his hardest to make the damn thing work, but after hours and hours of trying to fix it, he decided to throw in the towel. He slammed the hood closed and turned to face his trailer, throwing his wrench to the side and running his hands over his face in frustration, causing the soot from under the hood to get all over it.

He just wanted to see you and now he was without a vehicle. He was sure that he could ask Steve for a ride but there was no way he was going to do that. First of all, he hated being in the passenger seat, and he also hated how Steve drove. He was too careful and Eddie liked to drive fast.

Eddie couldn’t help how anxious he was to see you. He had gotten the call that you had broken your leg and needed to be there with you. He needed to give you cuddles and all the kisses you wanted because you deserved them.

So, Eddie did the only thing he could think of. He walked. He took the teddy bear he had gotten for you and he walked all the way across town to get to you.

He was tired and he wasn’t wearing the right shoes and it was hot in the direct sunlight, but he didn’t care. All that mattered to him was seeing your bright smile when he showed up at your door.

Eddie wiped the sweat off of his forehead as he got to Family Video, trying not to look like a mess when he stepped inside. The hadn’t realized how hot it was until he stepped into the nice air conditioned building.

Steve was at the counter, sorting through some VHS tapes while Robin was on the phone with a customer. The place was pretty empty for a Friday and Eddie was grateful he wouldn’t have to wait in line after he got what he needed.

He headed towards the romantic comedy section, looking for your favorite one. He didn’t care what people thought, he liked watching the genre with you. The whole idea of watching people’s love stories always warmed his heart. Maybe it was because he was happy with you. So happy that he didn’t mind walking across town just to see you.

He grabbed the movie and a few of your favorite snacks along with a bottle of water for himself. He put everything on the counter, clutching the bear to his chest so he wouldn’t lose it and watched Steve ring him up. Steve eyed the bear and Eddie didn’t miss the look he gave. It wasn’t quite judgmental, but he was definitely suspicious.

“Who’s your friend,” Steve asked as he scanned the items, an amused smirk on his face.

“It’s for y/n,” Eddie told him, clutching the bear tighter to his chest.

“Right,” Steve nodded, putting the items into a paper bag. Steve had always been rooting for you and Eddie to get together and he’d have been lying if he said he didn’t play a little part in your getting together. “I saw her yesterday. She’s doing really good. She misses you, though.”

Eddie tried his best to fight off the smile on his face. He loved hearing those kinds of things, especially when they came from your own mouth. The words sounding so pretty when they fell from your lips.

“She does?” He bit his lip to hold back a a stupid smile.

“Of course she does,” Steve gave Eddie a pointed look. “You’re her boyfriend.”

“That’s right,” Eddie replied, holding his head high. Eddie wasn’t proud about most things but being your boyfriend was definitely one of them. He’d tell anyone who was listen, especially after a few drinks.

Steve told Eddie his total and he threw some crumpled up bills onto the counter that were put in the register. Steve eyed the metal head and couldn’t help but notice now sweaty and out of breath he was.

“Why are you all sweaty?” He tried his best to not sound judgmental since he genuinely cared.

“My car broke down.” Steve couldn’t believe Eddie had walked all the way to Family Video and had every intention of walking to your house. That had to be miles.

“Ah, so that explains the soot on your face.”

Eddie took the bottom of his shirt and rubbed it on his face to wipe away the soot. He couldn’t see you looking like that.

“You’re good,” Steve told him, holding his thumb up.

Eddie took his things and exited the store, just ready to finally get to you. He was hot and uncomfortable since the sweat was making his clothes stick to him, but that was the least of his worries.

You looked around your bedroom at all of the get well soon cards and other gifts that had been given to you when you had broken your leg and maybe too many had been from your boyfriend. He had been there for you every step of the way. He had even driven you home from the hospital and carried you up the stairs to your room.

You felt so lucky to have someone like him. Someone who was so sweet and cared for you in a way that no one ever had before. He’d bring you flowers and your favorite takeout after a long day and you’d eat it together, nothing but smiles as you talked about your days.

He’d drive you anywhere you asked him to despite the fact that you had your bike, which had been the whole reason why your leg was broken. You had fallen off it while trying to get Eddie’s and thankfully someone had seen you on the side of the road and had called an ambulance. You were grateful that it hadn’t been more serious.

Your bedroom door had burst open and there was Eddie, all sweaty, clutching a teddy bear to his chest with one hand and holding a brown paper bag in the other. He dropped both things to the floor and threw himself onto your bed, making sure not to hurt you.

He grabbed onto you, burying his face into your neck, pressing soft kisses to it. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you even closer to you. One of your hands ran through his hair and the other went to his back, rubbing circles along it.

“I missed you,” he mumbled into your neck, giving it one more kiss before pulling back to look at you. You always somehow got prettier every time he saw you and he almost thought it was unfair. He didn’t care if you had just woken up or if you had been wearing a full face of makeup, he still thought you were the prettiest girl in Hawkins.

“I missed you too,” you replied, your hand still messing with his hair. “Missed your cuddles.”

“Well, what do you think I’m here for?” He laid next to you, pulling you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Well, you took long enough,” you rolled your eyes, your words having no actually heat. “You called me at almost noon and it’s now,” you paused, looking at the digital clock on the desk next to you. “Almost four.”

“Sorry, honey,” he looked up at you. “My van broke down so I walked.” Your eyes widened at his words and he knew exactly what you were going to say. You were always worrying too much about him.

“You walked here?” You sat up a little more, Eddie not moving as you did so. “Eddie that’s at least five miles.” He thought it was cute that you were concerned. He was fine but he wasn’t opposed to letting you baby him. He loved when you took care of him.

“So?” He needed the exercise and wanted to see you. He was just killing two birds with one stone.

“First of all, you’re not wearing the correct clothing or the right shoes. And you should have at least put your hair up.”

“I love when you worry about me.” He pressed his lips to yours in a lingering kiss. He was hoping that it would make you forget about being mad at him. It always did when you were having your little arguments like this.

“At least take your jacket off,” you told him and you didn’t miss the smirk forming on his lips. “You have to be burning up.”

“Oh, trying to undress me, hm?” He wiggled his eyebrows and you pushed him off you. He took off his jacket like you asked but did it slowly to catch your eye.

You couldn’t help but be hypnotized by watching him, your eyes moving to his shirt. He had cut the sleeves off it so it showed off his arms. You admired them, the tattoos and the muscles that he had been a product of him getting a job at the mechanic.

As soon as his jacket was off, it was thrown to the side and he pressed his lips to yours, longer this time. Just as you were getting into it, he pulled away and pulled you right back into his arms, smothering your face in soft kisses. You let out a bunch of giggles and that was music to his ears. His favorite sound in the whole world.

“Eds,” you managed to get out through your giggles.

“Yes, honey?” That name always made you melt. The way it just rolled off his tongue Ike it was second nature. He favored that nickname over your actual one and you loved it. Eating up the term of endearment every time he said.

“Please.” More giggles escaped you and you could feel hiccups coming on so you had to put the fun to a halt.

“Sorry. Just love to hear your laugh, sweetheart. You’ve been so sad and I’m just trying to cheer you up.” He had seen how not yourself you had been since you had gotten your cast on and he just wanted to do whatever he could to make you feel better.

“Then do something that won’t give the hiccups.”

“Oh, I can think of a few things,” he smirked and dove in for another kiss.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you

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ghost-proofbaby · 5 months

Note

22 for your blurb game please 💕

pastel, this one hurt, ngl. absolutely devastating. i love it.

#22: "ORANGE JUICE" BY NOAH KAHAN (STEVE HARRINGTON)

"you said my heart has changed, and my soul has changed, and my heart - my heart."

warnings: pure. angst. all hurt, no comfort. mentions of issues with alcohol/alcohol addiction.

wc: 2.8k+

It was a mistake from the moment he’d received the invitation. He knew he should have tossed it into the trash, should have gone about his day and never lingered on the small postcard that had been sent to him from his hometown. There was a single good thing to come from him answering the call.

And yet, he did.

Hawkins, Indiana was one of the few graveyards filled with ghosts that could make Steve Harrington bleed. People, places, memories – were they all always this sharp? It was the only thing on his mind as he drove through town, through the streets he grew up in and past the stores he no longer shops at, and felt it all coming back to him. His skin never grew tougher, despite his delusional thinking these past few months, and was thin as thawing February ice, cracking under the sight of you. You, stood in the living room of Robin’s downtown apartment. You, who hadn’t so much as glanced at him since he entered the room.

You, who he had left behind. A bleeding wound that he’d stuffed with the gauze and ignored for a long eight months. The ghost with the sharpest knife.

“Come and grab a drink,” Robin insists as she drags him through the front door, hardly letting him have the time to untie his shoes and shove them off with other familiar pairs of sneakers and boots, “We have so much to talk about, Dingus.”

“I don’t…”

The words die on his tongue. She’s not even listening, too eager to catch up with her best friend.

I don’t drink anymore.

He hadn’t drank since that last night, that last fight. Even the scent of whiskey made his stomach turn since he’d left. Vodka burned more than just his throat, and gin made his eyes water. He couldn’t drink.

“Rob,” he tries as she drags him right past the couch, right past you, “Rob, I have to drive. I can’t-”

“You could stay the night,” she teasingly sings over her shoulder as she passes through the archway to her small kitchen, him right behind her.

He could, but he won’t. He already saw the drink in your hand, and he already knows that the couch is your final resting place tonight. He won’t do that to you – he won’t hurt you, again.

“I really can’t,” he sheepishly replies as she finally drops his hand. Her palms are colder, even more chilled than they had been after afternoons of slinging ice cream together at StarCourt. He doesn’t know if it’s because he had no heat to offer from his own palms, or if he’d just been a leech and absorbed all the warmth she’d offered in that small touch. “I promised my mom I’d visit with her and my dad while I’m in town. The Harringtons are already headache-inducing enough without a hangover.”

It’s a sorry attempt at a joke, but Robin laughs anyway. The kind of laugh that cuts to his bone, that saws right through his thin skin and makes the first incision. He missed her – he misses her. She’s right here in front of him, and he’s never felt further away.

Robin navigates away from the bottles of chilled alcohol on the countertop either way, whether she’s realized to not push the topic or not, and heads straight to the fridge.

“We might have some pop in here, if you really want. I’m pretty sure I bought some Coke on my last grocery run. Or- Oh!” she pauses, peeking her head back out from behind the fridge door, hiding something in her grasp as she grins radiantly, “How about some orange juice?”

The carton is nearly crushed in her grasp, mostly empty as she holds it up.

It immediately reminds him of all the summer clementines you’d shared with him before he’d burnt everything to the ground. Sticky and sweet, innocent and divine. Before the fight, before he’d packed away his entire life into his car and drove as far away from Indiana as he could. As far away from you as his half tank of gas could take him.

The bile rises in his throat, but he nods anyway.

He watches her navigate the unfamiliar kitchen; she knows it well, knows it like home. Every cupboard and every drawer, she clearly has them mesmerized, because this is her home. Hawkins is still Robin’s home, is still your home, even if Steve has sworn it off.

“So,” Robin presses as she fills a crystal cup with orange juice, looking up eagerly at Steve.

It’s hard to be bitter when she looks at him like that. Like he’s done nothing wrong. “So?”

“Tell me about it!” he jumps from her excitement, cringing as she hands over the glass, “Tell me all about the big city. Is it as cool and refreshing as you had dreamed it would be?”

Steve looks anywhere but at his best friend. He looks over the chipping wallpaper in the hallway, flowery images faded from the years. He glances over the dated backsplash of the kitchen itself, noticing how the checker pattern clashes terribly with the steel appliances. His mother would have a fit if she stepped foot in this apartment – whoever had been the interior designer had had more than just questionable taste. The yellow-toned lights from overhead certainly wasn’t doing it any favors.

“It’s-” More words doomed to die on his tongue. They’re ashen, stickier than any clementine. Bitter and biting, burning and cutting. There’s not a singular positive attribute about his new home he can think of mentioning, because it doesn’t really feel like home. And it’s funny, because he had said the same exact thing about Hawkins when he was leaving it behind.

Looking back, this place felt more like home than any big and gouache city ever could. But it has nothing to do with back roads he once sped down, or lonely parks he once cried in.

It has everything to do with the bright-eyed, soft-freckled girl in front of him. It has everything to do with the shadow that suddenly enters the entryway, quieter than ever as it leans against a splintering frame.

“You made it.”

Your voice is a whisper, so soft he swears he imagined it. But then his head turns, and you’re there. Not a figment of his imagination, not a dream he’ll wake up from in a cold sweat. You’re standing there, tangible as ever, arms crossed with a blank face.

“I made it,” he echoes back, voice even lower than yours.

Three little words, and not a single one resembles what he really wants to say.

I love you.

I’m sorry.

I didn’t mean it. Any of it.

If I bruise my knees now, will I ever see your forgiveness?

You’re a picture frame frozen in time, looking the exact same as you had the day he’d watched you fade from his rear-view mirror. Same stubborn-set lips, same disapproving eyes.

But more importantly, same soft hair. Same sweet perfume. Same shaking hands, built to hold, not fight. They should have never been forced to form angry fists; but he’d never given you a choice. He’d forced your hand – he’d taken all your soft curves and loving edges, and turned them colder than stone. Colder than Robin’s hand.

That was his fault to carry to his own grave.

“I’ll… leave the two of you alone,” Robin says, slowly passing over the glass of juice as she takes a few steps towards the doorway. There’s a fear in her eyes, as if this is the real reason why she had drug him to the kitchen so quickly – she hadn’t wanted to run the risk of this. All this tension, all this hurt. But it was inevitable, and Steve had already put on his Sunday best in preparation for it.

He waits on you to make the first move. Whatever happens, whatever is said is all in your hands. Hands he hopes have let go of the fists you’d had to raise against him. Hands he hopes will hold him gently, even if nothing more than metaphorically rather than physically. He doesn’t think he’ll ever feel those hands hold him again; not as a lover, not as something to be gripped onto. They would never thread through his hair again in the morning light, and they would never fist his t-shirt through tears in a somber dusk.

You make your way across the kitchen, just as Robin had, before you settle against the counter. You lean against it, facing him fully, arms still tightly crossed as you stare. And he stares right back. But it’s a losing game; he knows his gaze will always be softer on you than even the blankest of looks that you will give him. There will always be love behind his, and there will never be kindness behind yours again.

He deserves it. He left you. You begged him and begged him not to, and he still left.

“I didn’t think you’d show up,” you quietly admit after some silence, fingers pressing down into your bicep as if withholding yourself, “She mentioned she’d sent an invite but…”

“But you figured I would be too busy?” he offers when you trail off.

“Something like that.”

Something like that. God, he hates it, he hates this. He hates that all he wants is to take you in his arms, to admit all his sins and pray for forgiveness at your altar. He hates that all he can think about is how your lips tasted the last time they’d pressed against his – salty from your tears – as you’d exhausted your artillery of ways to get him to stay. He hates how he still feels the weight of your body curving and meeting him halfway, wrapped up in you but not tightly enough to not still wake in the morning and just drive away.

Your eyes look over him, slowly trailing up and down, but nothing like they once had. “You’ve… changed.”

That was putting it nicely. You were here, haunting him, but he was the one that resembled a ghost. Nothing more than a transparent sheet of the boy he had been.

Maybe the city had been what changed him. Maybe his new job at some stuck up law firm had made more than just internal changes. Maybe it was his abstinence from alcohol that had changed him, letting the wrinkles in his face fade and making the moles across his cheek and neck a little more noticeable. Maybe the lack of sunshine had turned his hair darker. Maybe that had also turned him paler.

But that’s not what you meant. He knew you saw right through him – you saw straight to the rotten core he’d been hiding away for six months. Something old, something abused, something tired. Something yearning to come home to a place that was never his at all. You were talking about all the sleepless nights sponsoring the bags beneath his eyes, all the guilt that was eating him alive from the inside out. All the missteps that he had taken that led him to the lifelong regret and mistakes he can’t ever take back. He could bandage the wounds, he would hold his chest high, but it doesn’t hide the bloodstains of the self-inflicted carnage.

“So have you,” he nods, looking you up and down, lying through his teeth.

The only change present was the one he’d already seen before he left. The one that sucked the light from your eyes as you asked him to just stay. Not even in Hawkins, but with you. You would have followed him to the ends of the worlds, you told him as much, and he’d still said no.

Why the Hell did he ever say no?

Your eyes dart to the crystal glass in his hand, “Isn’t it a bit late for a mimosa?”

“What?” he follows your gaze, and sees the way you’re almost glaring at the glass in his hand, “It’s not- I- this isn’t a mimosa.”

Your nose scrunches, “What? You always said that mixing cheap wine and orange juice still counted, it was just the poor man’s mimos-”

“There’s no alcohol in the glass.”

Your mouth hangs open ever so slightly, eyes squinting in disbelief. And then he sees it. God, he wishes he wouldn’t have witnessed it – the slow fall of your face, until you’re nothing more than a clean slate of marble again.

But in the transition, he saw it. The realization that he had changed, that he had made some of the right changes, just a little too late. He was capable of being a better man, just not for you.

“Why not?” your voice is tight, lips a hard line as you refuse to meet his daring gaze.

Look at me, he begs. Please look at me and let me explain myself.

“I haven’t drank since-” Since that night. Since that fight. Since you begged me to give it up, to call you beautiful without the whiskey flooding my bloodstream. Since you asked me to stay, and I still went.

Unlike Robin, you know the words he can’t say.

“That’s-” you choke on your words, your composure cracking for the first time since you’d entered the kitchen. You take a moment to clear your throat, “That’s good. That’s… great, Steve.”

He can hear your hurt, clear as day. He can hear every question ricocheting in your mind: why couldn’t you have done that for me? Why couldn’t you have given me an inch when I gave you all my miles?

He’s glad you don’t vocalize any of them. He doesn’t have a single answer. You deserve one, but he can’t offer one.

It’s not supposed to be this way. You and him shouldn’t be leaning on opposite counters, oceans apart in the middle of Robin’s kitchen. It should be your kitchen – one shared between you and him. He should be holding you, twirling you around in the quiet of the night by the light of an open fridge, the only sounds being you stifling your giggles over the padding of bare feet.

The two of you should’ve made it.

You’d given him all of your love, every last drop, and he’d turned cheek and ran. You’d never risked asking for more, always settling only for what he was willing to give. No labels, no talks of the future. Hiding you away in the dead of night as the two of you shared cheap wine on rooftops, burying you between his sheets as he’d steal away another piece of you that he didn’t intend to keep but carried all the same. Sticky kisses, but only when no one was looking. Whispered admissions of devotion, but only when no one was listening.

You always gave him a slice of your clementine, peeled and pleading and begging silently for anything in return, and he’d given you nothing. Just a mouthful of bloody goodbyes and nights reeking of whiskey.

“You look beautiful,” he spits out before he can think better of it. The pulp of the juice is on his tongue, and you look so broken for just a second that he swears he can turn back time. He can make it right. He can offer you more than a burial ground.

Your sad smile says it all.

He’d finally said it. He’d finally admitted just a fraction of the hold you had him in, and not a single drop of alcohol in his system. No need to see you naked, no need to pretend the words hadn’t been uttered once the high was over. He’d finally said it.

“I’ll see you around, Steve.”

And it was too late.

You leave the kitchen without another word, and it takes everything in him to not chuck the glass of orange juice at the wall.

He didn’t even like orange juice. The pulp would get between his teeth and drive him mad, it left an odd film on his tongue he couldn’t stand, and it was always too sour for him to find refreshing. It’s the same reasons he hated oranges growing up. Until you, until your clementines. And he thinks if you walked back in, if you asked him to, if you held out a palm with a slice of all you had to offer to him again, he’d find a way to swallow the taste again without complaint.

You’re not going to walk back in, though.

It’s too late.

So Steve crosses the room the counter you once leaned against, grabs the closest bottle of cheap whiskey, and pours. Straight into his mouth, not even bothering with the orange juice.

He never thought a ghost’s knife would taste of clementines as it stabbed through his gut, even through the burn of alcohol. His mistake.

#ghost's tunes 2023 #steve harrington #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #we're back and worse than ever!#all of these will be unedited. my bad

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perpetuelledaydreaming · 2 years

Text

18 | chapter four

summary: you met a strange girl and her gang, although you honestly couldn't focus on anything with billy on your mind. Oh, and billy wants to rip jason's head off.

warnings: a softy chapter

listen to: Breakfast - Dove Cameron | Uptown girl - Billy Joel | These boots are made for walking - Nancy Sinatra (playlist here)

word count: 2.2k

series masterlist + read the next chapter early on my ko-fi!!

“You seem like you’re having a bad day,” the blonde girl with wavy hair that had sat down next to you in the last couple of classes muttered as you pulled your bag into your shoulder.

You hadn’t really talked to anyone since meeting (for the second time) the infamous Billy Hargrove. You weren’t sure what annoyed you so much about him, maybe it was his bright smile or his eyes, those damn blue electric eyes.

Sure, you understood the appeal, he might be handsome and look hot and drive a really fucking nice Camaro but it wasn’t about that. It was about his actions, the ones that you knew by heart already, make a girl fall in love with him, deeply, take advantage of her and take her to bed, use her as many times as he wanted to, and then discard her.

Discard you, you thought.

“Really bad first day?” the blonde girl asked again and you finally turned to see her. She had an amazing set of freckles that seemed like a Milkyway under her eyes, through her cheeks and nose. She had pretty soft blue eyes and a goofy smile.

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought,” you shrugged as you both walked out of the class.

“Really? Because Hawkins honestly sucks,” she admitted and you laughed in return. God, how many people hated their own town, you thought. You’d never hated Chicago, not even after what happened with your parents or everything else. It was your home, it would always be your home.

“So, everyone hates Hawkins here?” you asked her, but she squinted her eyes a bit as she examined you.

Suddenly, realization setting on her face.

“Oh, so you’ve never lived in a small town,” she replied as if it all made sense now and you nodded. “Where did you come from?”

You frowned at how she phrased the question. “Chicago, it’s the best place to live truly, I-” you replied and she snapped her head towards you before grabbing your wrist and pulling you through the green and yellow hallways of Hawkins as people turned to watch.

“Look what I just found!” she screamed as she waved at a group of people that were huddling in their lockers. You suddenly felt the small urge to run away but you knew it was better to have a couple of friends than none in a new place, especially now that you didn’t know if Hargrove had ruined your chances of getting into the cheerleading team. “A city girl with an open mind!” she babbled as she placed you in front of them.

“And you’re scaring her, Robin!” one of the guys muttered as he rolled his eyes. He was handsome, a fact, he had a nice smile and the hair, it wasn’t neat but it felt like it was styled to perfection. “I’m Steve,” he said as he shook your hand with both of his big hands.

You nodded and then turned to the others who followed suit.

“Nancy,” A small girl said with a small smile, she was holding the hand of the other guy that was next to Steve.

“Jonathan,” he muttered, clearly a lot more shy than Steve and the last one next to him.

That guy was clearly not shy, he didn’t give you his hand or a smile. He instead moved his long hair to the side and made a rock sign with his hand as he took out his tongue like Gene Simmons from Kiss, “Eddie,” he mentioned casually.

You nodded and they stared at you for a little longer than what you’d like, until you got that it was your turn and you cursed mentally.

“I’m y/n y/l/n,” you replied fast before passing a hand through your hair. “Just moved here,” you explained as you twiddled with your fingers.

“Yeah, we figured,” Jonathan muttered.

“Sorry, that was stupid,” you replied before pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation before giving a step back as if it was a reflex.

You weren’t usually one to get nervous, there were few moments when people actually figured your emotional state. But it honestly hadn’t been your day, it hadn’t been your week or your month even; you’d come to wonder if your life would be like this forever but you refused to believe it.

You had a plan in mind.

“No it wasn’t!” Steve intervened, a little bit to excited as you raised your head with a frown, was he trying to be nice? you thought. “I think I saw you before. You live at Oakland, right?”

You blinked a bit, surprised that someone had actually been paying attention to you. Someone other than Billy Hargorve. “Yes, just moved in,”

“Oh so you are neighbors!” Robin exclaimed.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied and you simply smiled. “I can give you a ride, if you want,” he muttered but you shook your head.

“I already have one, it’s fine but thank you,” you replied politely with a smile before turning to Robin. “And thank you for introducing me to your friends even though you didn’t even ask me my name,” you said with a smile as you took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“I’m sorry I tend to miss social cues all the time,” she muttered as her cheeks blushed a bit.

“It’s okay,” you replied sweetly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” She said and you nodded with a smile before you made your way to the entrance of the school and into the school parking lot.

As the warmth air of the summer hit you, you smiled. It was the first time in all day that you felt like you were actually able to breathe. Not even in class you had been able to push your anxiety and Billy Hargrove to the side, you felt like you had been stuck alone with your thoughts, unable to even use class as a means to escape those blue electric eyes and what had happened at lunch. You had tried to follow the exercises, especially on algebra, but you found yourself unable to concentrate on the equations on the page. It wasn’t until Robin had talked to you that you finally had thought about anything else.

You almost wished that you had actually spoken to her before, you’d rather busy yourself with trying to make new friends than have to cope with the reality that you were stuck in a town and the fucking King of the high school had put a target on your back.

As if you didn’t have enough trouble already.

You felt eyes on you in that second and you turned to where you felt them, snapping you from your thoughts. You were immediately met by Billy’s blue electric eyes. He was surrounded by a group of people, some hadn’t even noticed you but others had turned to where Billy was looking and some even frowned. You scoffed automatically and although usually, you would turn away from his gaze, not even giving him an ounce of your attention, you didn’t. You instead stopped walking and maintained eye contact, challenging him. The wicked smile that appeared on his face made goosebumps appear on your skin while you still stared at him as you puffed your chest a bit and raised your eyebrows.

You couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind but he didn’t falter either, he kept looking back at you and he raised his eyebrows back at you while sticking his tongue out a bit. You tried your best to stay level-headed because you knew what he wanted, you knew he wanted a reaction out of you but you weren’t going to give in.

Not at least on purpose and although you would’ve kept staring at him as long as he insisted on maintaining eye contact, a voice made you back down from the challenge.

“New girl?” the voice said and you turned around to see a tall blonde guy with a bright smile and dull blue eyes staring at you, he was wearing a uniform you’d seen during the day on most of what you assumed was the basketball team except for Billy Hargrove. He was unashamedly looking at you and for a moment you were particularly startled by his presence.

He looked like every guy next door. Pale, blonde, strong, all-American white guy. You wanted to roll your eyes to the back of your skull but you digressed. You didn’t particularly like the type of people, you were a cheerleader and you knew the two-face nature of those jock types.

“y/n, actually,” you replied uninterested as you kept walking to where you’d parked. He didn’t take the clue though, he insisted on following you while Billy glared from afar.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” he said and you turned to see him once more. “Chrissy told me about you,” he commented again as if you knew who he was.

You didn’t even want to know but then again, if you were stuck you would take every little opportunity if it meant something going right.

“Yeah, and you are?”

He blinked at you and then shook his head, he seemed genuinely distraught that you weren’t aware of his existence.

“Oh, Jason Craver,” he said as he extended his hand to you, you took it but made the handshake faster than what he apparently hoped for. “First mate of Hawkins basketball team,” he continued with his chest puff.

“Cool,” you replied before spinning on your heels and turning towards your joy ride.

And yet, he persisted.

You sighed in frustration once you heard his voice again. How could you expect guys like this to take a clue?

“Uhm, I know you move into Oakland street,” he continued and you stopped.

“Does everyone here lives there too?” you asked.

You remembered that you knew some stereotypes of small towns, everyone gossiped and everyone knew everything about everyone. There wasn’t privacy in small towns like that, not the privacy that you’d always used to have. In a big city, nobody even noticed you and you were hoping nobody noticed you either here.

You were so wrong.

“No, no but close,” he said and you nodded curtly. “I was wondering if you’d like a ride home?”

You shook your head quickly while thinking to yourself that you’d rather chew off your right arm than have him take you home.

“I have a ride,” you replied as you shrugged your shoulders and tsked with your tongue.

He stared at you with a frown.

“Really?”

“Yeah,”

“So, I see someone shot-gun you first,” he said as he passed a hand through his long and perfectly combed blonde hair.

You didn’t understand the connotation and first. Even though you probably understood the thing he said, you hoped that it was a joke. You wondered if people still talked about owning women like that in small cities, but your hope died down as you stared at Jason’s blue dull eyes, you knew he was being serious.

“Yeah, a pretty girl like you was obviously flagged down the first day,” he sighed with a shrug.

“I wasn’t flagged down by anyone,” you snapped at him with a bitter and angry tone.

“Not even Hargrove?” he asked before walking closer to you.

The mention of the name made you want to run and hide, yet, you turned around towards where Billy was. He was still staring at you but the mischievous gaze was gone and replaced by a glare. You scoffed mentally, was he jealous? Your gazes linked for a moment, he watched you carefully but you tried to refocus.

“No,” you lied, before walking to your final stop.

“So, how are you getting,” Jason continued but stopped mid-track and you smirked to yourself as you took your helmet from your bike and quickly placed it on your head. “Oh,” he muttered.

“Yeah,”

He stayed quiet for a few beats of silence as you got on the bike and turn it on. The roar of the engine caused goosebumps to appear over your skin and a satisfied smile to appear on your lips. You glanced at Jason who now had his hands on the pockets of his white jacket, he seemed a little bit awe-struck.

“I’m impressed, there are no girls like…”

You stopped him.

“Like me? Yeah heard that a bunch of times and it’s not that good of a line,” you grumbled as the bike started and you glanced at Jason with disdain. “Bye,” you muttered before you were driving off into the road.

Billy took a shaky breath as he watched you leave, he jerked his sunglasses out of his back pocket and flicked the cigarette to the floor. He straightened his blue shirt and pulled on his Aviators before walking to the driver seat of the Camaro, muttering a small bye to the group that was huddling around him. In all honesty, he wanted to run Jason over with the Camaro when he saw him talking to you, the charming smile he gave you made him want to rip his head off. He knew it was stupid, he shouldn’t be angry that he was talking to you Billy was never angry when other guys talked to the girls he was interested in.

But it was you.

And there was something about you that he couldn’t seem to shake off.

***

author's note: once more I'm flabergasted by all the support I've received over this new series, LIKE REALLY THANK YOU FOR TAKING YOUR TIME TOREAD IT. I really can't believe it and although I know these chapters are a bit short like I CAN'T WAIT to let you see what will come next it's going to be a wild ride. THANK YOU SO MUCH and as always lmk what you think of the chapter!!!

***

Taglist: @happypopcornprincess @hannahnikohl @thescarlettvvitch @nymphadora000 @phishyie @amethystx3 @jaziscool @vixionix @gloryekaterina @alicetweven @frogtits1 @meg11 @pillowjj @fan1237 @bucky-daddy-barnes @starloriha @make-me-imagine @piper570 @dedicated2viktor @zanmorgan @queenofshinigamis @literally-a-ferret @slutformaddyperez @milkiane @mysterygirl-14 @oli-leo-ska @tsukibaby1 @samwilsonlove @theshinyrock @belledawnidk @the-mysterious-miss-s @rio-mx @nobody-000 @rlvslouis @linkpk88 @daygirl26 @steveharringtonswifey09 @alwaysbeenfamous @kazbrekkersangel @ilovewomen711 @allazay101 @dacresgff @nymphadora000 @that-levi-kenma-kinnie @riffcrusader @useless-snail @patheticreative @emmettcullenswife @milenadixon @whiskeypowder @ponyboys-sunsets @yunho-leeknow @kaillou66 @randomeddieblog @gifcottage @storeybook @nikt-wazny-y @kneelforloki @niviiera @pumpkin-kings @anitatvd @fanatics30

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feedback is always welcomed!!

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marya-blackbone · 1 year

Text

part 1

It’s movie night at Steve’s place – a sacred tradition Steve and Robin have maintained despite Mr and Mrs Harrington being in town for the weekend. Robin finds herself humming the Time Warp under her breath in the Harringtons’ big fancy kitchen, sliding the Jiffy Pop pan over the hob with each jump to the left and step to the right.

Mrs Harrington walks in as she gets to the pelvic thrust, earning Robin an odd look that could be for the dancing, or could be the familiarity with which she propels herself around their kitchen. But Mrs Harrington says nothing, involving herself with finding a wine glass and rooting around in a couple of draws. After a few moments, Robin wordlessly hands Mrs Harrington the corkscrew she was looking for. She smiles tightly and accepts it, but hesitates, lingers, before setting it aside to wring her hands anxiously.

Robin has a few ideas of what Mrs Harrington could be working herself up to say. And when Mrs Harrington tells her outright, without preamble, that she should break up with Steve, she’s not even a little bit surprised. She gets it – she’s poor, she’s alternative, she’s not good enough. And maybe Robin expected Mrs Harrington to be subtler, snider, more knife-in-back about her efforts to drive her off, she still knew this was coming.

What she doesn’t expect is what comes after.

“I wish someone had said this to me when I was your age – I really do. And I love Steven – with all my heart – but he’s too much like his father,” she says.

“What do you mean?” asks Robin – because this conversation is too weird not to. And the way Mrs Harrington is looking at her with such imploring eyes makes her want to see where this is going rather than disabuse her of the notion that she and Steve are a couple. She wouldn’t listen anyway.

“He’s leading you on, darling. Cheating on you. This morning, I went up to let him know we were back from New York, and I saw a girl in his bed. Long dark hair, perm.” Mrs Harrington casts a pitying look over Robin’s dirty-blonde bob. “I’m only telling you for your own good. Leave. While you still can,” she urges.

Robin grins something maniacal. Steve is a scoundrel, but not for the reason Mrs Harrington believes. No, Steve always tells Robin when he has a hot date, and yet he conveniently forgets to mention anything about this? Much more likely it’s that Steve is intentionally holding out on her.

Because it’s not just a hot date, not just a hookup. And Robin has a pretty good idea who that girl was.

“Thank you, Mrs Harrington – for your concern, I mean. Steve and I are totally not a thing, but I am so, so glad you told me about this. Honestly, thank you,” she says, grinning from ear to ear.

Mrs Harrington – now under the impression she failed to get through to her – tries repeatedly to impress upon her the fact that Steve is an irredeemable rake, and really she should just cut and run before it’s too late, but Robin’s not listening. Instead, she’s scheming ways to get Steve to reveal that which she thinks she already knows.

A/N: This is part 1 of a 3-part drabble I’m doing. I feel like if Mrs Harrington and Robin ever interacted she’d probably project a little bit because she doesn’t understand her and Steve’s relationship.

Here’s part 2

#steddie #stranger things #stranger things 4 #steve harrington #robin buckley #mrs harrington

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ryeriy · 6 months

Text

haunted

warnings: mentions of gore, (fake) blood, being scared, foul language, haunted house so don't read if that bothers you

navigation post

"Boo!" I jumped as it was just Ethan behind me. "Don't do that to me! It's not funny!" I said to him. Mark came over to me and pulled me into a side hug. "Oh come on babe, it was just a little scare!" He said while he placed a kiss on my forehead. "I'm sorry y/n, I didn't mean to. It's just that it's so funny." He says while laughing. "How is she going to survive the horror night?" Luca chipped into the conversation. "I'll be there to protect her," Mark said while pulling me into a hug.

We are going to Six Flags in Michigan. It's about two hours away from Ann Harbor. It's a group thing. Mark, Ethan, Luca, and Luke are going. Luke was in town this weekend so they decided we should go to this. Mark brought me and Ethan brought his girlfriend. We had to rent a van for the trip so we could fit everyone in the same vehicle. It's early in the morning and we are going to get there right about an hour before the horror night starts. "Everyone ready?" Luca said. Everyone clicking their seat belts. "Yes." We all replied. "Let's get this show on the road then.

Luca was driving us there, Luke sitting next to him, me and Mark in the row behind them, and Ethan and his girlfriend in the back. It worked out perfectly. I enjoyed the car ride. Me and Mark were sharing headphones and listening to music together. All we kept doing was playing iMessage games on our phones. It was going to be a long car ride so we needed something to keep us occupied. When we got bored of that we were fifteen minutes away so we talked. "Ok guys we are here so that means wake up and be prepared to get out. After I find a semi-decent parking spot...or not. It's busy." Luca said while we parked in a spot close to the entrance. All six of us got out of the car, making our way up front to the entrance of the park. "How many?" The ticket booth lady asked me. "Two please," I said as I pulled out my credit card. Mark walked in front of me. "Don't worry, let me pay." He said to me. "Thank you," I said while smiling. "Are you love birds coming or not?" Luke nagged at us. They were already up at the entrance. We caught up to them and we all walked together in a group.

"So what's first?" Ethan said. We all looked around the park. "Let's do that one!" I pointed to one of the roller coasters. "You sure you want to go on that?" Ethan asked me. "Yeah, why?" I questioned him. "Well, it's just I didn't know if you'd be scared." He said jokingly. "Oh, would you stop!" I said while laughing at him. We started walking towards the ride. It was a nice day out. A bit cold outside but the sun's out so it is a little warm. Perfect.

Once we were at the ride entrance we took a few group photos. Then we put our belongings into a locker while we were on the ride. We had about an hour till the horror night started. The line wait was about thirty minutes. Once we got to the front of the line. He asked us "How many?" Luca replied. "Six." "Rows 1, 2, and 3." He said. "Come on babe, we're going front row!" Mark exclaimed. "Oh god..." I said while walking up to the front row. Luca and Luke are behind us and Ethan and Zoe sit in the third row. Behind Luca and Luke.

We sat down on the ride. The ride operator comes around and makes sure everything is secure. The next thing I know, the ride is starting. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." I kept saying as we were going up the hill of a coaster. "Relax, I'm right here." I heard Mark say while he grabbed my hand to hold it. "Ay! This was your idea y/n!" I heard Ethan yell. "Oh shush!" I yell back. That's when the drop happens. I start screaming and yelling as we go down. We kept twisting and turning for about two minutes before we came to a stop. "It wasn't so bad," I say while looking over at Mark. "See I told you," Mark says while getting off of the ride. We made our way back to the lockers. Unlocking the locker and grabbing our belongings. "Dude look!" Luca says. He's pointing to a guy dressed up as a clown with a bloody axe in his hand. "Oh shit!" I said while moving closer to Mark. "Just remember, you wanted to come," Ethan said. "Yeah, I know," I say. "So let's go get scared!" Ethan says while walking forward with Zoe and Luke. "Oh yeah, don't show weakness or it makes you an easy target," Mark says to me while holding my hand.

We walked around and we kept getting scared as a group for two hours. Luke and Luca got scared the most. Me and Mark haven't gotten scared yet but that's going to change. "Who's ready for the haunted house?" Mark said while we got in line. The park was closing soon. This was probably the last thing we were going to do. "It's only two people at a time so let's do this. Who's going first?" Luke said. "Me and the lady should. We haven't even gotten scared yet!" Mark said. "Really?" I said. "Yeah! It will be fine let's go!" He said while holding my hand as we walked in.

When we walked in there was blood everywhere. All you could hear was screaming, chainsaws, and screeching nails on a chalkboard. "I don't like this at all," I said while walking through. I walked close to Mark as we were walking through. "AHHHHAHAHA!" I jumped and screamed as I saw a clown with a fake chainsaw and fake blood dripping from it. We walked past and I started to feel my eyes watering. "I'm scared," I said. I rushed myself through the haunted house as more clowns and girls dressed in nurse gowns. Everyone was drenched in blood. I screamed and slightly cried as we got to the end. The end was the worst. Clowns and people in masks raided us screaming in our faces. I just wanted it to end. It ended and we stepped out. "That was fucking horrible!" I said while walking out. We waited at the exit for the other four. We hugged until all of them got out. "How did everyone like it?" Ethan asked. "Hated it," I said while walking with Mark on the one side of me and Luca on the other comforting me. "Can we stop for ice cream on the way home?" I asked Luca. He is the one driving us home. "Yeah, we can do that." He said while we all walked back to the van. "This was all a fun night," I said while smiling. "You enjoyed it?" Ethan questioned me. "Yeah, it was fun. I had fun." I said while smiling as I got into the van.

31 days of Halloween

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untitled-writer-013 · 1 year

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hi there! I really LOVE your writings!! and I'd like to request too! It's okay if you're not able to do it ^_^

how about yandere hannigram react to their darling is engaged to someone else and about to move out somewhere else?

Thank you for reading this!! xoxo

You Belong To Us

Yandere Hannibal Lecter x Engaged!Fem!Reader x Yandere Will Graham

warning(s): yandere themes, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of murder, hints of cheating, drunk fiancé

Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham were humble people. Anything they had, they earned. So, when (Y/n) (L/n) had announced her engagement, the two men knew they would need to work hard to gain back their darling. The two began to plan, making sure that their lovely coworker was none the wiser. Once the two finished planning, they merely needed to find the opportunity, and strike.

The two men invited (Y/n), her fiancé Alex, along with the rest of their coworkers to one of Hannibal’s dinner parties. Once the night of the party rolled around, Hannibal and Will were elated to see how their darling had dressed up for the event. Hannibal had made his main focus to entertain the guests, while Will made sure to separate (Y/n) from her fiancé for most of the night. Will would plant a few seeds of doubt into her, pointing out that he hadn’t seen her fiancé all night.

It eventually made (Y/n) try to find Alex so they could talk, making Hannibal and Will exchange looks before a coworker swept (Y/n) away, unknowingly making Hannibal and Will’s plan that much easier. Hannibal would have Will take over entertaining the guests before pulling (Y/n)’s fiancé aside, threatening him to break off the engagement and leave town before he had to take action. Alex, too drunk to take Hannibal seriously, shoved him away before leaving to join the others.

Hannibal let out a sigh, taking a hold of the man’s wrist and quickly dealt with the man, wrapping his arm around his neck as he choked out the man. He didn’t release his hold on him until he felt his body become completely limp. He made sure to check that the man was actually dead before bringing it to his kitchen, deciding to take care of it later long after the party had ended.

(Y/n) had spent the rest of the night trying to find her fiancé, but became more and more worried the longer she was unable to find him. She eventually asked Will if he had seen him, but Will denied seeing him except for earlier, which was the last time she had seen him as well. She then went to Hannibal for help, who silently told Will to run by (Y/n)’s house, making sure to buy him time as he comforted (Y/n), telling her that the last time he had seen her Alex, he was leaving with another woman. (Y/n) couldn’t believe it, but from how much he had been avoiding her to how drunk he had gotten, she couldn’t deny that it seemed to be the case.

As (Y/n)’s eyes began to water, Hannibal opened his arms slightly, pulling her close as she accepted his embrace. He gently reassured her, telling her that Will and himself would be there for her for as long as she needed them. He felt his phone go off, carefully checking it before seeing that Will had finished, making his soft smile grow slightly before he put his phone away, continuing to comfort her as Will returned to the party. The other partygoers asked what had happened, but had quickly been dismissed by Hannibal, who thanked them for attending and wished all of them to have a safe drive home.

He watched as they all slowly left, while Will walked up to them, placing a comforting hand on (Y/n’s) shoulder.

“Could we drop you off?” Will asked gently, his expression softening once (Y/n) accepted the offer.

Hannibal and Will helped her into the car, (Y/n) sitting in the passenger seat, Hannibal driving and Will in the back. The two men talked with her as they drove her home, lightening the mood of the conversation as they listened to her laugh, making them smile as they pulled into the driveway. (Y/n)’s carefree demeanor dropped as she spotted Alex’s car missing. She stepped out of the car, going into her house and began to look around, noticing that all of his things were gone. She began to panic as she finally checked the bedroom, noticing that all of his belongings were gone, and she received a text from him. She quickly opened her phone, her eyes wide as Alex threw curses at her, telling her that he had found someone else that was better than she could ever be, telling her that she would never see him again. She tried to call him but he had blocked her, tears spilling down her face as her breathing became fast.

As (Y/n) began to have a panic attack, Hannibal called her, she answered out of desperation for some sort of comfort. He asked if everything was alright, having become worried after she had left the car so quickly. She stayed quiet for a moment before she let out a sob, all of her emotions releasing at once as she fell to the floor, setting her phone on the floor as she ran her hands through her hair, wondering what she had done wrong to deserve being abandoned by her fiancé.

Hannibal and Will joined her on the floor, Will pulling her into a close hug as he wiped her tears away, reassuring her that he and Hannibal would be there for her as he held her to him. Hannibal slowly sat next to them rubbing (Y/n)’s back in slow circles as he offered his support, watching as the girl clung to them. The two shared a look, knowing it would only be a matter of time before she would play right into their hands.

~fin~

author’s note: thank you so much for the request, these two men would do anything to earn back what’s rightfully theirs! i love reading all of your requests, so please don’t be shy to send any more ideas that you may have. thank you so much for being my lovely readers! <33

#yandere hannigram #yandere hannigram x reader #yandere hannibal lecter x reader #yandere hannibal lecter #yandere will graham #yandere will graham x reader #yandere hannibal lecter x reader x yandere will graham

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badkitty3000 · 2 months

Text

Getting busy in a public space with people around? The idea of someone witnessing everything becomes a turn on for Five's wife, and he is definitely up for the challenge. After all, he can never deny her anything. And, let's face it; there might be something in it for him, too.

Words: 7,412

Here is a smutty one shot I wrote featuring my original character, an aged-up Five's love of his life, Vivian, from my Halo series. That AU spawned its own series of one shots that you can read here.

I love writing these two horny love-birds, so if you have any requests for a story featuring them, or Five and a reader-insert, let me know!

Warnings: Smut, Public sex, Dirty talk, Fingering, Blow jobs

The traffic was incessantly slow, with the cars creeping forward mere inches at a time every few minutes. There was nowhere to go; not even a shoulder to drive on if you wanted to be that kind of jerk. Which, after over an hour of sitting in roughly the same spot, breathing in exhaust fumes and listening to his wife’s horrific playlist of songs, Five would have gladly taken twenty traffic violation tickets just to get out of there. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, imagining it was the neck of whoever had caused this nightmare to begin with.

Viv risked a side glance, noticing the red flag that was the twitchy eye and bared teeth of her husband. Her eyes moved back in front of her, to the glove compartment where Five kept his Glock, and she subtly pressed her knee up against it. Just in case.

About thirty minutes into this fiasco, Five had put the car in park and blinked out and down the standing row of cars to try and get a look at what the hold up was, much to the shock of the other drivers. After he had stood on the side of the road, hands on his hips, assessing the situation in the most Five way possible, and then blinking back into the car, Viv had scrunched down in her seat and gave the confused, older lady in the car next to her an embarrassed smile.

Risking making things worse, and possibly her life, Viv quietly cleared her throat.

“Five. There’s nothing we can do. It sucks, but there’s no point in getting all assassin-level angry about it.”

When Five’s head whipped around in her direction, she flinched just slightly; his face looking dangerously crazy.

“Yes, I know there’s nothing we can do, Vivie.” He drew out his words slowly and measured, as if talking to a small child. “But I am tired and hungry and very, VERY over this music.” He stabbed his finger at the screen that had just lit up with the beginnings of “Sweet Caroline”, stopping poor Neil before he could get to the chorus.

The car was quiet again and Viv tried to choke down the laugh she felt forming inside of her. It never failed to amuse her when her murderous husband with a long history of blood and violence started acting like a toddler that was overdue for a nap and a snack. The more she sat there, watching him seethe out of the corner of her eye, the more she thought about it. And then she couldn’t keep it suppressed anymore. The laugh started as a muffled snort, and then her shoulders started to shake. When Five looked over at her, completely unamused, it all burst forward in a loud, obnoxious cackle that had her doubled over.

“Always glad to be your entertainment,” he snarled, looking away again.

“Oh, come on, Five…you don’t have to be so dramatic,” Viv argued, even as she still tried to swallow her laughter.

“How am I being dramatic?” Five asked loudly, throwing his hands in the air with all the drama of a telenovela actor. “You’re the one that wanted to go to this restaurant across town, even though I told you it would be a bitch to get to. And I was right, wasn’t I? You know, sometimes you can admit when I’m right. It wouldn’t kill you.”

Rather than answer, Viv reached across with one hand, squeezing his cheeks and squishing in his face. She beamed over at him as he gave her the death glare. Part of the fun of messing with him was knowing she was the only one that could ever get away with it. Anyone else would have been swiftly joining the unidentifiable roadkill that was lying next to their car.

“You’re so super cute when you’re all angry.”

Five swatted her hand away. “Thin ice, Vivie. You’re on real thin ice.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “What exactly are you going to do about it?”

“Off the top of my head, I’m thinking of spatial jumping myself out of here and leaving you here.”

Viv scoffed. “You wouldn’t dare. Besides, how far would you even get?”

“Far enough to get away from this mess and to think happily back on the image of you still sitting here, crying tears of regret over your treatment of me.”

Viv pressed her lips together to keep from laughing again. Even though Five’s body language and words gave the impression of some serious underlying wrath, the tiniest formation of a dimple on his cheek gave him away. He may have actually been pissed at the situation, but he’d never leave her like that.

“Fine. You were right…I was wrong. This was a bad idea. There, you good now?” she condescendingly patted his thigh.

As she turned back towards the passenger window, in the process of taking her hand back, she felt him grab hold of it, keeping her pressed into his leg. She turned back to face him with a questioning look. All she received in return was a very evil smile of which she knew the exact meaning behind. Uh-oh.

“Oh, no…no way, buddy. I am not giving you a hand job in the middle of a traffic jam. Absolutely not.”

Even Viv knew her argument lacked much conviction; the sternness in her voice was definitely not very convincing. When Five didn’t respond, she kept going.

“Besides, it’s not like we’re very hidden here, we’re surrounded by all these other cars with people in them and it’s broad daylight out. Not to mention my very nosy window neighbor over here, I’m pretty sure her name is Gladys, keeps looking over at us. I think she likes you.”

None of that did anything to dissuade Five; it was as if she hadn’t said anything at all. He just grasped her hand tighter, that cock-sure smile of his never wavering.

“First of all, you need to make up for this disaster you put us in, which you have so kindly admitted was your doing. Second, I have a very different kind of job in mind for you, my love. And third, I know you; and I can guarantee you’re going to have your head in my lap in a matter of minutes.”

Five took Viv’s hand and pressed it roughly between his legs, making sure she knew he wasn’t fucking around. She could feel him growing and getting harder as he rubbed her palm over the top of his pants. He closed his eyes and let out a soft exhale.

“Jesus, Five. How can you be so pissed off one second and so horny the next? That’s not normal.”

He opened his eyes and grinned over at her. “Just one of my many talents. Now, are you going to get over here? Or are you going to keep pretending you’re not going to suck my dick when I tell you to?”

She laughed softly, but didn’t make a move, even though her breath had become noticeably faster and she stopped trying to pull her hand away.

Five unbuckled his seat belt and slid the seat back further to make more room. Then he settled back into the seat, spreading his legs apart and leaning his head back with his eyes closed.

“Darling, I really don’t want to have to tell you again,” he warned, not even bothering to look over at her or open his eyes.

As he moved her hand over the crotch of his pants again, Viv took a deep, shaky breath and bit her bottom lip. He knew exactly how to get to her. How to turn her from a strong, confident woman into a quivering mess of sexed-up gelatin. It’s like he knew the special, magic formula to instantly soak her panties and leave her wanting him. She may have been the boss of him in every other aspect of their lives, but when it came to anything sexual…Five was in charge.

After a brief look to her nosy neighbor, who happened to be looking straight ahead for once, she undid her own seat belt and leaned in closer to Five. She lightly ran her lips over his neck while she started undoing his pants.

“You’re lucky I’m willing to let you talk to me like that,” she murmured with a smile before kissing the corner of his mouth.

“You’ve been letting me talk to you like that since the day we met,” he replied; which was entirely true. Then he let out a soft moan as she freed his dick from his pants and started slowly stroking him.

“So, what’s going to be in this for me?” Viv asked, still teasing him with feather light kisses on his neck.

“Dinner. Maybe,” Five answered dryly, trying to conceal his smile as he inhaled a sharp breath when her hand moved over him again.

The movement stopped completely then, and Five opened his eyes to look at her unamused face. Trying to push himself up into her fist, but to no avail, Five conceded with a short laugh.

“How does this sound? If we ever get out of this nightmare and home again, I’m going to get you on all fours and fuck you with my hand, then my mouth, and then my dick until you’re coming onto each one of them.”

Viv could feel the unmistakable rush of moisture between her legs when he said things like that. It was an automatic response from her body; because it knew that’s exactly what was going to happen. She started to rub his cock again, harder and faster this time, causing him to flop his head back with a loud groan and close his eyes again.

“Deal. Just make sure you’re watching the road and pay attention if we start moving.”

“Uh-huh…got it,” he mumbled, his hand already pushing her head down.

Vivian was on him a second later, taking him all in at once, and letting him guide her head with his hand in her hair. If there was one thing she knew, it was that the man loved a good blow job. She’d given countless to him over the years, and in that time had gotten to know exactly the way he liked it and the quickest way to make him finish, too. She considered herself a Professional Number Five Cock Sucker at this point. She could have taught a class.

She made little moaning noises as she moved her head up and down in a certain rhythm, making sure the head of his dick hit the back of her throat each time. She gagged once in a while, but he liked that, too; knowing he was big enough to choke her if he really pushed her down hard enough. The angle was awkward, but not anything she couldn’t handle and she used her hand along with her mouth to speed things up. But when her neck and back were starting to ache and the gear shift was digging into her armpit, he was still going strong. She had another trick up her sleeve that would wrap things up, though.

Taking her mouth off, but still working him with her hand, she looked up and made sure he was watching her face as she licked her lips.

“Let me feel your cum down my throat, Daddy,” she purred, as seductively as she could.

Then she was back to sucking him off and she could hear the low groaning noise that meant he was going to do just what she had asked of him. His hand tightened in her hair and he held her down while he pushed his hips up, his back arching and body stiff and twitching while he lost himself to her expert mouth-fucking skills. He was almost completely spent, the last few spurts of cum sliding down her throat, when there was the undeniable crunching sound and hard jolt of their car hitting the one in front of them.

Viv did choke a little with the impact, and lucky for Five he didn’t get his dick bitten off. The car had been rolling so slowly that it had only gently bumped the other car. But it was still enough to do some damage. Not to mention the impact had somehow kicked the music back on and suddenly the car was being blasted with the all-too familiar lyrics of “Sweet Caroline”.

…touching me…touching youuuuuu….

“Fuck!” Five cried as Viv lifted her head up quickly and looked out the windshield to see what had happened.

She groaned. “Five, god damn it! I told you to watch what you were doing!”

“Yeah, I know!” he snapped back at her over the loudly obnoxious song. While trying to stuff himself back into his pants and zip up, he visibly winced. “I guess my foot slipped off the brake! I was a little preoccupied!”

Sweet Caroline…bum bum bum…

“You were preoccupied?! I was the one choking on your damn dick!”

“Charming, Viv, really.”

Good times never seemed so good….

“Well, shit. Great, the guy is getting out of his car. Oh my god, he’s walking over here! Now what?”

“Jesus, I don’t know! Act fucking normal I guess, if you can manage that,” Five barked at her. “And turn this FUCKING music off!”

Five practically punched the touchscreen with his fist and Neil shut up again. The car seemed extra quiet, except for their angry breathing.

As the other driver got closer, Viv suddenly realized the absurdity of the whole situation. She knew what they looked like; her hair a tangled mess from Five’s hand, lips swollen and her chest flushed. Five was breathing hard and trying to tuck in his shirt and buckle his belt. Then add in the fact that they had started yelling at each other, and Viv immediately burst out laughing. When Five looked at her, first in complete shock, he must have come to the same conclusion she had and he shook his head with a smile.

“You are a very bad girl, Vivian Hargreeves.”

“And you are a very bad influence,” she replied with another giggle.

As Five composed himself and got out of the car to assess the minor damage with the annoyed looking man; Viv glanced over to Gladys who was wearing a very sour expression on her face. Clearly, she had seen the whole thing go down, including the sinful activity that had taken place. Instead of hiding in embarrassment, though, Viv just waved out the window to her with a happy smile and gave her a thumb’s up. Then she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and licked her lips, all while staring the haughty looking woman in the face. She couldn’t help but crack up again when she saw the woman gasp and cover her mouth with her hand, completely appalled.

Later that evening, after they had finally gotten home and eaten dinner and Five had eaten something else just like he had promised, they were lying in bed in the dark when Viv started laughing again.

“I can’t stop thinking about that lady’s face. She was so horrified. I’m sure she was going to go pray for us as soon as she could get back to her church.”

Five chuckled. “Well, you did put on a good show.”

“Yeah, but was it worth that ticket and the increase in our auto insurance?”

Five pulled her in close to him and kissed her cheek. “Absolutely one-hundred percent worth it.”

Viv sighed and laid her head on his chest. “You know what’s weird though? I kind of liked it.”

“Of course you did. What’s not to like?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not that. Doing it in public like that. Where people could see us? It was kind of a rush.”

“Huh. Well, that’s certainly good to know. Let me file that away along with all the other dirty things my wife likes.”

“That file must be getting pretty big by now. Your wife sounds like freak,” she laughed.

“You have no idea.”

A few days later, Viv was standing in front of her closet after her morning shower, wrapped in a towel and staring at the empty space that used to be occupied by more clothes.

“Five! Where the hell are all my work pants?” she yelled out.

A minute later, Five strolled in with his coffee, looking suspiciously innocent. “What do you mean?”

She eyed him up with a hand on her hip. “My pants are missing. Know anything about this?”

He shook his head with a smile and took a sip from his mug. “Not a clue. Weird. Guess you’re going to just have to wear a skirt to work.”

Viv narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing?”

Five shrugged and walked to her closet, looking at the line of skirts. Picking out a tight, black skirt that would be way too short to wear to work, he placed it on the bed. “Wear that one.”

“Five…I can’t wear-“

“I thought I’d come by and take you out to lunch today,” he interrupted with a gleam in his eye.

Now she understood. This skirt was for him, not her. And she was pretty sure she knew what lunch meant.

With a shake of her head she smiled. “You know, this skirt would actually be perfect to wear today. Even though there’s a good chance I might accidentally give everyone at work a look at my Area 51.”

“Your what?”

She shrugged. “I’m trying out new names for my vag. Area 51. Like it?”

“I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he replied sarcastically.

“Yes, you do,” she grinned.

Five just smirked knowingly and left the room to let her finish getting ready. But when she opened her underwear drawer, she found that it was empty as well.

“God damn it, he’s good,” she muttered to herself with a smile.

Viv spent the rest of the morning trying to avoid the scandalized looks of her coworkers while also trying to pull her skirt down so it wouldn’t ride all the way up and show the entire lab her bare bikini biscuit, which she had decided was her new favorite term. In between wrestling with her completely inappropriate outfit, she kept an eye on the clock. She was supposed to meet Five downstairs in the lobby at noon. He didn’t say where he was taking her, but she figured that was because she was the lunch.

Finally, it was noon and Viv rushed downstairs, fully anticipating a nice long lunch hour consisting of an orgasm or two. When she saw Five she hugged him and gave him a kiss.

“So, where are you taking me?”

He let his hands roam over her hips and down to her ass that was just barely covered by the skirt. “I don’t care. Wherever you want. What sounds good?”

Viv frowned. “Wait. Are you actually taking me out to lunch?”

He smiled innocently. “That’s what I said I was going to do. Why? What were you thinking?”

With a very suspicious look at her husband, Viv cocked her head to the side. “What was up with the skirt then? And the no panties?”

Again, Five just shrugged like he had no idea what she was getting at. “Nothing. I just like that skirt, it looks nice on you. And you probably left all your underwear in the dryer like you always do.”

Viv let out a frustrated sigh. “You are so weird. Fine, let’s go across the street to that café. If I can make it there without flashing the entire city my pink velvet sausage wallet.”

Five choked on a shocked laugh. “Your what?”

“What? You don’t like that one? I thought it was a winner.”

“And I’m the weird one,” he said with a shake of his head.

After their actual lunch of food, where Viv fully expected Five to blink her out of there and fuck her somewhere private, but never did; they walked back across to Viv’s building where she went to give him a kiss good bye.

“Hang on. I’ll go up with you.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Why?”

“Can’t I want to spend a few more minutes with my beautiful wife? Is that a crime?”

“You’re up to something, Hargreeves; I know you are.”

But Five gave no further explanation, so they walked to the elevator together. Viv’s lab was on the 20th floor, and the elevators were all packed with workers returning from lunch. When the doors opened, a throng of people pushed in, filling it almost to capacity. Five had led her in with a hand on the small of her back and they ended up in the back corner, which Viv didn’t really like since they were packed in so tight. She leaned in closer to Five so she didn’t have to be so close to the other people.

As soon as the doors closed and everyone pushed the buttons to their respective floors, Viv felt Five’s hand on her ass. She turned and gave him a little smile, since that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him to do. But what he did next certainly was. She stood there while he continued south with his hand, stopping just below the short hemline of her skirt. Then, with a move so smooth she wasn’t sure how he did it, his hand was under the back of her skirt with his fingers sneaking forward between her legs.

Viv let out a loud gasp, then quickly shut her mouth as several people turned to look at her. Five continued sliding his fingers forward until they were perfectly positioned, the slick from her rapidly dampening pussy coating them as he started to gently finger her. Viv tried to step away, but he held her to him with a firm grip on her arm, and he moved her body so that her back was closer to the elevator wall. It obviously wouldn’t take much for anyone near them to realize what was going on. But as with most elevators full of people, it was awkwardly quiet and everyone just stared straight ahead or at the moving floor numbers.

Viv tried to clench her legs together, then she tried to wriggle her way out of his grasp, but neither one of those things worked and Five didn’t let up. As the elevator climbed the floors, stopping periodically to let more people on and off, she started to get more and more turned on. He really was an expert finger fucker, and he knew all the right things to do to drive her crazy.

There were still plenty of people around, although it had thinned out a little. Five pretended like nothing was going on, just staring straight ahead like everyone else. Viv had to close her eyes and bite her lip to hold in the whimpers that were dangerously close to creeping out of her mouth. When Five sank his middle finger inside of her, fucking her with it while also fingering her clit, she couldn’t suppress a moan. When a man started to turn around to look, she coughed loudly to try and cover it up and he turned back towards the doors.

“You’re so close, aren’t you baby? Don’t let anyone hear you.” Five whispered so softly in her ear that it was almost inaudible. But she heard it, and she also felt his lips graze over her ear lobe when he said it.

It wasn’t fair. Five had an entire car to fully unleash himself in before. He didn’t have to be quiet or hold back his orgasm. This was a totally different level of torture; even if Viv was both loving and hating every minute of it.

Finally, after what seemed like the slowest crawling elevator ride in history, the last person got out on the 19th floor. When the doors closed behind them, the long, shaky moan from Vivian echoed through the empty space.

“You fucking bastard,” she panted out before finally breaking free from his grasp on her arm, as well as his hand under her skirt.

Five just smirked proudly and then quickly slammed his fist against the stop button, halting the elevator between floors with a jolt and setting off the alarm. He was back on her in a second, pushing her against the back wall and kissing her hard, one hand on the side of her neck while the other slid back under her skirt. This time he didn’t care about being discreet, and he shoved the front of the skirt up so she was fully exposed for him and he picked up where he left off.

Viv cried into his mouth as he lifted one of her legs up to his waist, holding her under her thigh while he circled her clit over and over again with his hand. His body was pressing into hers and he was breathing hard and fast; kissing her neck while she whined for him.

“Did you like getting fucked under your skirt like that? With everyone around? Knowing you could get caught at any second?” he murmured.

“Fuck, I hate you so much. But yes…oh god…yes I liked it.”

“You better finish up for me, angel. We can’t keep this stopped forever. If these doors open, everyone will see what a horny little slut you are.”

With each heaving breath Viv let out a whimper until he had her completely falling apart; her hands raking through his hair and her head thrown back.

“That’s my girl, keep going,” he urged as he pushed harder and faster.

That was all she could take and then she was yelling much too loudly for no one else to hear, even if they were trapped in there alone with alarm bells blasting. Her cries kept going, too, her body pulsing against Five’s hand as she clutched onto his arms. When she could finally stop, Five pulled away and lowered her skirt for her. The giant grin on his face was incredibly annoying, but Viv could only let out a wheezy laugh as she tried to compose herself again.

“Fuck…”

“Sorry, darling, we don’t have time for that. This will have to suffice until you get home later,” he quipped as he wiped his hand off on his pant leg and then pushed the button to stop the alarm and get the elevator moving again.

They were only one floor away from her stop, and when the doors opened, Viv found herself face to face with several of her co-workers looking very concerned.

“Oh my gosh, Vivian! Are you ok? We heard the alarm and then we thought we heard screaming.”

Five smirked and looked at his wife, cooly leaning with his back against the doors to keep them open for her, his hands shoved in his pants pockets.

Viv smoothed out her skirt and ran a hand down the back of her hair, before faking a laugh and waving a dismissive hand at the group of worried faces.

“Oh, no, I’m fine. It was silly, actually. Five accidentally bumped into the alarm button and it scared me so I screamed. I’m so over dramatic sometimes,” she explained with a self-deprecating eye roll.

That seemed to satisfy everyone well enough, despite some suspicious looks, and they slowly scattered back to their work stations. When they were alone again, Viv turned to Five in a huff.

“I’ve said it before, but you really are an asshole.”

Five grabbed her hand and pulled her into him, holding her around her waist. “Sounded to me like you were having a pretty good time. And you’re always saying how I don’t listen to you. Well, I listened this time. You wanted public sex; I delivered.”

Viv couldn’t really argue with that, so she just shook her head and put her arms around his shoulders. “As much as I enjoyed that little ride you gave my panty hamster back there, consider this war.”

“Panty hamster? What is wrong with you?”

Viv laughed and kissed him before he stepped back on the elevator, still smiling at his crazy but adorable wife while the doors closed between them.

It was a week later when the war continued. They had a deal worked out every month where Viv would let Five drag her off to their small, public library in town and sit there while he pored over old, dusty textbooks of the most boring variety in exchange for him letting her pick out any movie to go see and he had to go along with no complaining. This weekend it was library day.

She hadn’t even been doing anything all that sexual. Just resting her hand on his leg while he scanned through some old physics textbooks and she leafed through a mystery novel. It’s not like she’d never rested her hand there before. Or absent-mindedly stroked her thumb over his thigh. But for whatever reason, this time, it was getting to Five. Maybe it was the fact that he was surrounded by books, and the quiet of the library, which he’d always loved. Or maybe it was weird, suppressed memories of him and Dolores in a similar building, only with fewer walls and less readable options.

Five tried to block it out of his mind, instead concentrating on the long, drawn-out equations and laws of thermo-dynamics. But he found himself reading the same sentences over and over again, his mind wandering to her hand and the warmth of her skin penetrating the fabric of his pants. Then his mind wandered even more. To what he knew her hand felt like on other areas of his body. Despite the internal battle in his head, visions of her stroking him, hard and fast, while kissing him and biting at his neck were working their way to the forefront. And unfortunately, she had noticed.

“Something wrong there, honey? You look a little flushed,” Viv asked with a smile as she moved her hand further up his thigh.

Five cleared his throat. He really didn’t want her to win this one. “No, I’m fine, thank you.”

After he continued pretending to be engrossed in his book, Viv took it one step further and pushed her palm against the swelling between his legs, rubbing it over the top of his pants. She heard the unmistakable sound of a quiet groan and she jumped a little when he suddenly grabbed her wrist.

“Nice try, angel. You may have me worked up just like you always know how to do, but two can play at this game.”

He held her hand on his crotch while using the other to pull her chair closer to him. A loud screeching noise filled the air as it scraped over the floor and several people looked up to stare. Knowing that Five was trying to embarrass her on purpose, she just smiled over at him and pushed her hand in harder.

It was difficult to keep up the façade, though, when Five was returning the favor by shoving his free hand up the sundress she was wearing and rubbing her over her panties. She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. When she retaliated with a squeeze and her own rough tug it made him growl deep in his throat.

After a couple minutes of under the table rub and tug, they were both quickly losing their resolve. It didn’t really matter who was going to win anymore.

“What do you say we take this one step further?” Five asked quietly in between ragged breaths.

Viv took a glance around her. There weren’t many people there, but there were a few. There was absolutely no way they going to be able to just start fucking without anyone seeing. And last time she checked, sex in a public setting was still a crime.

“As much as I want to…and believe me I really want to…I don’t think this is the best place for that.”

Five ran a finger inside her underwear and she let out a tiny squeak before shoving her hand down his pants and grabbing hold of his dick. Five jolted in his seat, his knees hitting the underside of the table.

“Fuck, Vivie,” he whispered. “This is happening. I am going to fuck you in this library right here, right now.”

She looked around again and then noticed the quiet reading room in the back. It was used mostly by students for studying but it had several small cubicles with desks for privacy. Perfect.

Viv removed her hand from his pants and pushed his away from her. With a smile she stood up and offered out her hand to him.

“Come on, I have an idea.”

Tugging at the front of his pants, Five looked up at her. “So, I have to walk across the library with a raging hard-on? Thanks a lot.”

“Well, it’s either that or you sit here and wait until it’s gone and your balls are blue as fuck.”

“Fair point. Just try to stay in front of me so I don’t look like some disgusting pervert.”

“You are a disgusting pervert.”

His eyes narrowed at her remark, but he stood up and took her hand while Viv led him to the back room, all while trying to hide his awkward boner from the suspicious eyes of the librarian as they walked past. Once inside the study room they could see there was only one other cubicle occupied. It was by a college-aged student that seemed oblivious to his surroundings and had earbuds shoved in his ears as he tapped the rhythm of the music out on the desk with his pencil.

Viv saw an empty one in the back corner and they hurried over. She pulled her panties off and shoved them into one of Five’s pockets before straddling his thighs. He uncuffed his dress shirt at the wrists and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows like he was going to start in on some major work, before he started undoing his pants. Viv draped her arms over his shoulders, running her fingers softly through his hair and pushing it back over his ear.

“Do you know how impossibly sexy you are?” she asked in between her own quick breaths, trying to keep her voice down. Leaning in close, her lips brushed over his neck. “Sometimes I look at you and I can’t even believe you’re mine.”

“This is supposed to be a quick fuck, you know that right?” he asked as he revealed his straining cock to her.

“So?”

“So, when you say amazingly romantic things like that to me, it makes me want to take my time with you.”

Viv moved further up his lap, adjusting herself carefully, and sank down onto his dick. The quiet moan he let out sounded much louder in the quiet of the reading room. Viv breathed out a soft laugh at his inability to hold back. The skirt of her dress covered them so that at least they weren’t totally exposed, although it was going to be pretty obvious what was going on if someone walked by. She didn’t care about that, though, because all she wanted to do was let Five take over and make her feel good in the way only he knew how.

With her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her chest held tightly to his, her lips found their way to his neck again. With her face pressed into his warm skin, she closed her eyes and breathed in, convinced that he must emit some type of pheromone that was made specifically for her. She imagined this invisible chemical compound drifting out of his pores, being driven by his bounding jugular pulse, and going directly to the unevolved part of her brain that was activated only by pure sexual impulse. Because there was no way anyone else in the world would be able to turn her on as completely as Five did, just on scent alone.

“Can’t I tell you nice things and still want you to fuck me senseless?” she purred.

The answer came in the form of Five roughly pushing her hips down and forward, using his strength to pump her body back and forth on top of him, despite what he had said about wanting to take his time.

Viv whimpered softly next to his ear and she could hear the sexy grunting noises he was making under his breath as he thrust her aggressively over his cock. Her body was being driven exclusively by his strength, with his fingers digging into her hips and ass; the muscles in his forearms straining as he worked hard and fast. The chair started to creak with the movement and the legs thumped and scraped on the floor.

“Someone’s going to hear us,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat.

“I don’t care,” Five answered, looking her in the eyes while his hair fell over his own.

Viv bit her lip to suppress a moan and she smiled at him. “What would you do if we got caught?”

“They can watch all they want. But nothing is going to stop me from Fucking. You.”

His last two words were accentuated with more forceful thrusts, slamming her down so hard that the chair was loudly shoved backwards.

“Do more of that, please Five,” she begged, knowing he couldn’t resist doing anything that drove her crazy like that.

Five gritted his teeth and continued to pound her body into his, the hot sleeve of her cunt sliding tightly over his dick faster and faster until he was sure neither one of them were going to hold on much longer. The chair underneath him was complaining loudly and Five tried to quiet it by bracing them with his foot against the floor, the sole of his expensive Oxford leaving black scuff marks on the faded linoleum as his heel skittered across.

Viv’s hands were in his hair and the back of his neck as she desperately tried to muffle her cries into his shoulder. She could feel her clit banging into his pubic bone over and over again until she was dangerously close to coming. She should have been in a hurry, trying to speed things up and will herself to finish so that they wouldn’t get caught. But the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea of it. She wanted someone to hear. She wanted someone to see.

“You feel so good like this. I want everyone to see, too. Let them see how good you fuck me; that I’m the only one that gets to touch you. I’m the only one that gets to ride your dick. Let them watch while you make me come, just for you, Five.”

“Jesus, Vivie…” he moaned into her hair. “If you say one more thing like that, I’m going to-”

“Come on, baby; let this whole library know how Number Five Hargreeves fucks his wife,” she groaned next to his ear with a smile.

“Oh, fuuuck, yes!” he growled much too loudly, throwing his head back and digging his fingers into her waist while they both climaxed together.

Viv startled and put her hand over his mouth, but it was too late. There was no way in hell no one had heard that.

“Five!” she scolded half-heartedly in between heaving breaths. She was already trying to climb off of him on stiff and cramped legs. “What the hell?”

“Sorry, Vivie,” he panted, helping her to stand up. “You did ask for it, though.”

Once she fixed her dress again and looked back over, she saw he was smiling, not even giving a shit that he had alerted half the library. Viv risked a quick peek over the cubicle wall and by some miracle there didn’t appear to be anyone around. She may have talked a big game during the heat of the moment, but she hadn’t really wanted to endure the humiliation of getting caught.

She leaned her butt against the desk, trying to catch her own breath as she shook her head at him, watching as he nonchalantly zipped up his pants again. He passed a hand through his hair and looked up at her, somehow managing to look even more handsome than usual.

“How do you manage to do that to me?”

“What do I do?”

“Make me fall in love with you over and over again.”

Five laughed softly, looking slightly embarrassed. “Only you would turn a quick, public fuck session into a romantic date.”

After they smoothed their clothes and hair out as much as possible, and their underpants were back where they were supposed to be, they emerged from their little cubicle. They only got about ten steps out, though, when they were stopped in their tracks by a very stern and irritated librarian who blocked their path with her hands on her hips.

“I would like you both to know that we do not take these shenanigans lightly, and I have alerted the police who will be here shortly. As I’m sure you are quite aware, there are laws against indecent exposure and lewd public acts.”

Viv didn’t know what to say or do, except for turning beet red and looking at her feet. But Five just flashed the lady his best innocent smile.

“Actually, there was no indecent exposure. We made sure to keep it classy.”

The librarian huffed loudly and pointed a finger in Five’s face. “Now, listen here, you…you…hooligan! I am used to having to remind the teenagers to behave in here, but you are two grown adults. It’s disgraceful! You should be ashamed of yourselves!”

As Viv stood there, trying to decide if she should laugh or not while continuing to stare at the floor, the kid that had been studying at one of the other cubicles got up to leave, but stopped in front of Five on his way out, a big grin on his face. He offered out his hand for a fist bump.

“Dude, way to go, that was awesome. Seriously, best study session ever.” His eyes roamed over Vivian. “Whoa, she’s hot, too.”

Ignoring the other guy’s attempt at male bonding, Five put his arm protectively around Viv’s waist and pulled her against his hip. With another heart-melting smirk that had her trying not to laugh again, he raised his eyebrows at her. Viv could feel the tell-tale staticky sensation vibrate against her body as Five was already flexing his hands.

“Ready to leave, darling?”

Viv nodded with a smile. “Yep.”

“Tell the cops we said hi,” Five snarked just before opening one of his convenient portals and jumping them both out of there.

They landed slightly off from his intended mark in the parking lot, Viv’s back slamming into their car door. Post-orgasm blinks were always a bit trickier for him.

“Ow!” she cried.

“Sorry, are you ok?”

Vivie nodded, rubbing her back but still smiling. “Nice one, by the way. Poor lady, though. At least she’ll have something to talk about at her next knitting circle.”

Five laughed. “I don’t think they talk about lewd public acts in knitting circles. At least not hers, I’m guessing. But I’m pretty happy that I got called a hooligan. That’s a new one.”

As they both got into the car and Five started it up, he turned to his wife, with her messy hair and flushed cheeks, and smiled.

“So, where should we plan our next little adventure?”

“Next adventure? Uh-oh, I got you addicted to being a sex criminal now, didn’t I?”

He leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss. “I think it’s more like I’m just addicted to you, angel.”

“See? There you go again, being annoyingly sexy and making me fall in love with you again.”

A cop car pulled in, and Five drove quickly out of there, one hand on the wheel and the other on her leg. He gave her bare thigh a squeeze as he turned out into traffic. “As long as you keep feeling that way, Vivie, consider me one very happy and lucky man.”

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cutesyscreenname · 30 days

Text

The Last Great American Dynasty: Chapter 1

This Was The Very First Page

Series summary:

Addiction, deadlines, a nasty divorce. In an effort to shed your skin and find yourself again, you pack up and move to a historic seaside home across the country. It's all a blur, you're hurting and spinning your wheels in a big house all alone. Until Frankie shows up on your doorstep.

Pairing: Frankie Catfish Morales x AFAB Reader

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 1709

Warnings: allusions to former drug use, mention of divorce, not too much to warn of yet we just getting started bby

Notes: I hope we all have a marvelous time and I don't ruin everything 💀 I've been gone for a long ass time, taking baby steps getting back into things.

Also much thanks to @pr0ximamidnight for helping flesh this out (aka letting me rant at her until it came together) and @mydailyhyperfixations, @joelsgreys, and @mylostloversbookmarks for also listening to me ramble 😂 lub u 🩵💙

Chapter One Playlist 🎶📻⚓🌊⛵🎶

This was the very first page

Not where the story line ends

My thoughts will echo your name

Until I see you again

It feels pretentious to drive across the country like this when you don't have to. In fact it was a struggle to do so - insisting and arguing with everyone that you wanted, no - needed to. You could feel the eyes rolling behind your back, hear the sarcastic thoughts unspoken.

Who does she think she is, Kerouac?

Truthfully you just wanted the white noise of wind, pavement, and your Spotify playlist of guilty pleasure pop songs, too occupied by operating a motor vehicle to check the deluge of emails and texts that had been pouring in for months.

A Tale of Two Addicts

Best Selling Author Loses Control of Her Own Narrative

Authoring Her Own Disaster: Detox and Divorce

How could you blame them when the headlines practically wrote themselves?

“So let me get this straight. Not only am I not getting new pages, you’re putting this project on hold to move to the east coast so you can - what? - live out some whimsical seaside fantasy?”

You sat in your office chair, surrounded by stacks of cardboard boxes, pen hovering above the signature line of your divorce papers like a memoir you don’t want to take ownership of as your editor sighs at you over speakerphone.

“I’m doing what they told me to do in therapy, Miles. I’m changing the scenery, starting over. It’s difficult to write any pages for you if I’m too catatonically depressed to get out of bed. Take it as good news, a strategic move. Literally.”

The house has a history. That’s the reason you’d chosen it, frankly. You’d discussed the listings with your realtor over the phone, clicking through the pictures as they recounted the amenities and specs of each property.

“And then there’s the Harkness house…”

If her goal was to intrigue you she’d accomplished it tenfold, having you on the hook for every sordid detail as she regaled you with the story of a widowed heiress making a splash of scandal through the coastal town with her extravagance. She leaned into the impropriety of it all, trying to sell you with gossip, but all you heard was the story of a woman who had reclaimed her life after losing love. Perhaps the house held that energy in its foundation. Maybe if she did it there, so could you.

Pulling up the winding driveway you almost feel a page turn, a fresh start. Then the moving van crunches gravel behind you and your phone pings with a missed call from your lawyer, breaking the spell of your daydream.

It’s been a long day already, an endless stream of delays and snafus. Missing parts and tedious tinkering with finicky engines has left Frankie a mess of sweat, grease, and frustration. The sigh of a long day finally finished whistles out as he climbs the stairs to the office, ready to hand in a few leaves of paperwork and drag himself home when the sound of muffled conversation gives him pause.

“She’s ruining everything, we’ve all but flown in the film crew and we hardly have half a film without that house in it!”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Ray, she could be perfectly cooperative. We don’t know-”

“It’s for fucking NETFLIX, Tim. I won’t be made to look foolish by some scandalous, self important, Hollywood-”

“And you won’t. Let’s just give her the packet, for all we know we could have signed papers come Monday morning.”

That’s all Frankie hears before the desire to get out of there steers his body back toward the stairs. I can turn these in on Monday, not worth the hassle...

Before his steel toe can touch the second step, though, the door swings open and a booming voice sounds behind him.

“Ah! Mr. Morales! Good timing, son. You pass the Harkness house on your way out of here, don’t you?”

The question is moot, the offices and hangar located along the coast such that there’s practically no choice but to pass the seaside estate if you want to reach the town and its modest sprawl of surrounding neighborhoods.

“I do, sir.”

“Then it’s meant to be. I’m sure you’ve heard that it’s newly occupied and we have a…welcome packet of sorts…for the new owner but the courier’s service is closed. Would you mind dropping this off on your way home?”

Tim, the more even keeled of the two executives that frequent these offices, hands over a manilla envelope without waiting for an answer, traces of engine grease still clinging to Frankie's skin leaving faint fingerprints on the hefty packet. The man cuts in again before Frankie can open his mouth to speak.

“Is the jet ready for takeoff in the morning? We’re expected in New York by eleven.”

Frankie studies the name on the envelope for a long moment before looking up to meet the impatient gaze of the man in front of him.

“Ah, yeah- Yes, sir. She’s ready for takeoff. Pilot’s ready for you anytime after eight, should you decide to leave earlier.”

He only receives a slight nod before both men push past him and he’s left alone outside the office door, eyes drawn back to the neatly printed label with your name on it. Why does it sound so familiar?

Lost in a daze of curiousity, Frankie’ feet carry him down the stairs, through the hangar, and out to his truck. He’s so distracted by the strange feeling in his gut that he starts his drive with his steel toes still on and the work orders still stacked along with the mystery packet in his passenger seat.

It's been a week and you're still staring at, discovering, stumbling over boxes.

How the hell does one person accumulate this much stuff?, you think as you sit on the sofa and nurse the soon-to-be bruise on your shin from the cardboard cube you'd just rammed into rounding the corner into the living room. The house in LA had seemed so desolate when Trevor had moved out and now you sit surrounded by a sea of what now feels like junk.

Even in this vast expanse of square footage and seaside it seems the walls might close in on you at any moment.

Thoughts manifesting into reality, you begin to feel too hot seemingly from nowhere. Pulling at the collar of your worn t-shirt, you go to crack open the nearest window when a blue pickup truck rounds the bend and pulls up to your gate. Before you can take too long to squint and guess at who the hell would be at your gate on a Friday evening, the driver presses the call button and your phone begins to ring.

“Hello?”

The phone crackles lightly and a deep, dulcet voice answers you.

“Yes, ah- I've got a delivery here. Is this the new owner?”

From the window you can see the figure in the truck cab lift an envelope to read it and he confirms your name.

“Yeah, that's me. I'll buzz you in.”

“Thanks.”

You hang up and press the button to let him through, watching as he winds up the drive and stops in front of the house.

Had you forgotten to sign something? He asked about being the homeowner, so it can't be another addendum to Trevor's many demands attached to the divorce. Your confusion and curiosity gives way to a flustered state when you open the door.

The first things you notice are the rich brown orbs looking back at you, brows, lids, and laugh lines working to form a frame of sincere apology, like he knows it's unorthodox for him to be standing on your front step at this hour. The rest of him is just as entrancing - plush lips beneath a gorgeous nose, a broad frame just as soft as it is strong, and a rueful smile that has your cheeks flushing as he adjusts his Standard Oil cap to lend you a peak of soft brown curls.

“Hi there,” he interrupts your stupor and you wonder just how long you've been staring.

“I'm here to deliver this. It's from the Standard Oil offices, ah…courier service is closed and it's pretty important I guess.” He holds the envelope out for you to take, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck in what seems like a nervous habit. You can see the faint grease marks on his fingertips, a matching set of smears on the paper in his hand.

“Oh, um. Thanks. Any idea what it's for?” You take the packet from him, eyeing it curiously. It's simply addressed to you with no further indicators on the outside.

“Something about the property I suppose, not really clear on the details. Lot of history in this house, ya know?”

“So I'm told.” You smile softly, toying with the metal fastener, more intrigued by the messenger than the message at this moment.

After a brief silence he shakes his head, seeming to come back to the present, and you wonder where his mind had drifted to. “Anyway, I'll leave you to it. Sorry for the interruption.”

“Not at all. Thanks again.” You wiggle the packet lightly in your hand.

He cracks another smile and you're certain his eyes roam over you before he mutters a goodnight and turns to go back to his truck. You stay stagnant for a while, watching as he gets into the cab and pulls out of the gate, and a few long moments after that as well.

Finally closing the door, you pad into the kitchen and pour a glass of wine to sip while you open your mystery packet. As you set it on the island countertop a few stray sheets slip out from beneath the envelope. Picking them up, you notice they don't seem to have anything to do with you or the house. In fact they look like order sheets of some kind, a list of mechanical sounding items listed with costs and quantities scribbled next to them.

Next to a black smudge to match your packet and the stranger's fingertips is a carefully printed name on a line marked ‘authorized by’. You read the name aloud and your stomach flutters at the way it somehow feels familiar to say.

“Fransisco Morales…”

More to come soon, let me know in the comments or my inbox if you want to be tagged for the next chapter 😬

#last great american dynasty #frankie x reader #francisco morales #marry me frankie #frankie catfish morales #she had a marvelous time ruining everything

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writersblockedx · 2 years

Text

The Exception

Requested: ‘Hello! If you are taking requests I was wondering if you would be willing to/ want to write a fic! I was thinking dean X reader where they both like each other (but they are not wanting to tell the other/ don’t realize kinda thing) and Dean let’s reader pick music when he is driving and/or let’s reader steal some of his french fries! Thank you!!’ - Anon

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Summary - Y/n and Dean have been silently pining for one another since they first met. Though, things suddenly start to come out when the two venture on a hunt on their own. Warnings - Mentions of death, general violence, mainly fluff Words - 2K

A/n - The request didn’t specfiy gender of reader so, as I mainly write for fem reader, I made an assumption!

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It wasn't often Y/n and Dean went on hunts without the youngest (yet taller) Winchester, but, when they did, the dynamic constantly changed. Dean was flirtier, Y/n less focused on research and more centered around the time she was spending with the boy. Somewhere along the slaughtering of monsters and exterminating of ghosts, feelings developed - which made their duo hunts all the more...different.

"So why are we driving to Iowa exactly?" The girl had finally asked once they were getting close to this certain state.

Dean shuffled around in his seat a little, retrieving a newspaper that he passed over to Y/n, "Here." He said as he took it for herself, beginning to skim over the words. "Second line down." Dean directed.

She followed his instruction, "Husband dies tragically, leaving wife looking like she'd just seen a ghost." It sounded like a stretch. Y/n glanced back over at Dean, "You do know 'like she'd just seen a ghost' is just an expression? Doesn't actually mean there's a case here." She joked, earning herself an eye roll from the green-eyed boy.

"Keep reading." He told her and she did so.

It didn't take her long to realize: "He entered a new construction site with work, never to leave again. Co-workers found him, deemed it death from a heart attack. A strange incident when considering he won the town's marathon the week prior." So maybe this was something ghostly.

Y/n looked back to Dean, folding the paper up once more, "See?" He was holding an 'I told you so' expression that led Y/n to look away.

Her hands found the radio. She almost franticly began to switch through the channels, giving her mind a form of entertainment. "What are you doing?" Questioned the oldest Winchester as his gaze flickered between the road and the girl.

Her eyes never pulled from the radio, determined to locate a song that she would enjoy. "Dean while I love your obsession with classic rock music, I don't want to listen to the same three albums on repeat every drive." She told him while Dean kept his lips sealed. She pushed and shoved at several buttons before some acoustic guitar music started to lull through the impala.

Had it been anyone else, even Sam, Dean would have been throwing a childish fit right now. He would be lashing out about how his favorite three albums were iconic and not meant to be replaced by some hippy guitar music. But as it were Y/n in the passenger seat, Y/n having her hands all over the radio, then Dean kept quiet and excused such actions because, "We're almost there anyway."

She raised a brow, "And exactly where is there?"

As if answering that question, Dean pulled into the town's nearest motel. "It's a ten-minute walk from where the construction site was." He informed, parking the car.

Y/n was already getting out of the impala, Dean following as they went to grab their bags. "One of us should probably head to the library, find some archives on the property." She suggested while the boy popped the trunk and handed the girl her bag.

He sighed, slamming it shut as they turned to one another. "You mean to do research?" He clarified. To which, she nodded. Neither of them wanted to take part in said research. Usually, they left that to Sam. But on these certain hunts, where research was heavily involved and one of them had to do it, there was only one way to decide between them who got assigned which job.

Their palms conducted into fists, their eyes going narrow as they stared at one another. They patted against their other hand three times before revealing their move.

Y/n played paper; Dean played scissors.

The boy's lips twisted up into a cheerful grin that seemed to taunt Y/n. "Have fun at the library!" He gleamed walking into the motel. All while she did nothing but let her eyes roll.

Once having booked their room, Dean changed into his suit and tie, fit for one attempting to pass as an FBI agent, and headed for the site. All while Y/n stayed as she was and got dropped off at the town's library. She found a desk that she would make her own for the next hours and shuffled through a variety of books before piling them onto the desk. In that moment, she cursed Dean for winning at such a childish game they still decided to play.

But as an hour or so passed, she finally came across something that may help. In the towns history book (which dated back to the 1600s) Y/n came across the fact that before the previous property (an insurance company) had been built, a small cemetery had stood there. She was willing to bet that whatever was haunting the town, was a ghost whose bones were still buried below the dirt and stone.

She had kept reading in an attempt to find anything about there still being bodies buried on the site. Which was when her phone started to ring, and Dean's contact stared back at her. "And how is research going?" He was quick to taunt, prompting an eye roll from Y/n as many books stared back at her (them too seeming to taunt her).

"Fine, actually." She lied right through her teeth; it was still torturous. "Just found that the site, many many years ago, was in fact a small cemetery. I just need to find out which of the bodies buried there is still the one haunting the site." The girl informed, scanning over the paper in front of her. "What about you? Find anything?"

The boy hummed in response, taking a moment to answer as he chewed on something. "A load of EMF" He finally answered.

Y/n's eyebrow quirked as she slowly relaxed back into her chair. "You found a load of EMF in a diner? Because that's where it sounds like you are." She paused and Dean said nothing to his defense. "Please tell me you did actually visit the site?"

"Of course I went to the site. Spoke to a few people, spoke to the guy who had found him too." Another chewing sound blared through the phone, making Y/n squirm at the sound. "Said that it was definitely strange and that he could have sworn he saw a white cloud of smoke over the body before he rushed in." The boy went on before shoving more grease into his mouth. "Then I went around - found loads on EMF."

Y/n followed along, his words assuring them in that they were dealing with a ghost. "Okay and then what, decided to get food?"

"I was hungry!" He argued, probably loud enough that the whole restaurant on the other sound had heard it.

"And you didn't think that maybe I might too be hungry?"

Dean was silent for a moment or two, Y/n picking up on the sound of his knife and forking hitting the plate. "There's an empty seat across from me and I'm sending you the address now."

And not a second later, her phone pinged again with said location. "Hey, Dean?" He hummed as to acknowledge her words. "Any more research or anything that even remotely required something to read; it's your job."

He sighed but accept his fate, "Fine." And then he hung up.

Y/n packed every historic book she had once taken back away and walked towards the diner Dean had messaged to her. It was their stereotypical place to eat: Burgers, fries, and a warning for a heart attack. And sure enough, sat with an empty seat across from him, was Dean and a slice of pie staring at him.

"You look like you're falling in love." Y/n observed sitting in the empty chair.

Dean looked up, a great grin on his lips and glistening awe in his eyes. "I am." Then he slowly pushed his fork into the luscious desert, practically drooling.

Next to that plate, was a portion of fries. And, with Dean so infatuated with the pie, Y/n took a couple of fries, throwing them into her mouth. Dean dropped his fork before it could even brush against the cream of the pie. "What are you doing." The awe in his eyes dissipated, replaced with a stern expression that glared Y/n's way.

The girl, however, could barely keep a straight face, taking another fry. "Eating. It's what most people do in places like these." Then she ate that fry, watching as Dean's jaw clenched.

"But they're mine." He whined like a toddler would have done.

"And the least you can do for leaving me to do research while you sat here and ate fast food, is let me eat some of said fast food." She responded with the quirk of a smile.

Dean's eyes were narrow, debating in his head whether to let this one slide. And, similarly to in the car, he did, because it was her. "Fine. Go right ahead." She returned to the fries; he returned to his pie; everything was well.

"So what do we do next?" Y/n inquired. "It's not like we find a name and look for the gravestone."

Dean shrugged with a mouthful of pie. "Guess we'll just have to torch them all."

Her brows raised in surprise, "You're joking right? All of them?"

"You said it was a small cemetery."

And so, with greasy full well and truly digested, they returned to the motel and waited for it to get dark. Once it was night, the two made their way towards the construction site with two shovels, salt and a lighter. And they started digging. Luckily, the site was far from any curious neighbors so they didn't have much to worry about. It was just a rather tedious job to dig for hours, finding the many bones and having to burn every single one.

It was 3am, and they were covered in dirt, tired, and threw themselves into the front of the impala with a much needed huff. Y/n believed she couldn't have looked worse in that moment: her hair tied and an utter mess, her clothes so muddy they felt as if they were glued to her body. Yet in that silent moment, Dean glanced over to her and could have swore she was ever so beautiful. So much so in fact, it just, sort of, slipped out.

"You're beautiful."

He hadn't meant for it to happen. And when it did, they were both caught by surprise at his words. Her head snapped to him, eyes wide. She laughed awkwardly as if she must have heard him wrong. "What?"

Dean wasn't sure how he was meant to play this off - or even if he should. "I don't know what it is about you." He paused and budged closer. Now or never. "You are one of the closest people to me and I can't help but think that, whenever we're alone, about how we would be...together." This wasn't like Dean. He wasn't one for big confessions. He never needed to be. "I know maybe that's stupid to think but I can't help it. Whether you change my music or fight over who should do the research or steal my food, it just makes me think that I must see you as more than just a friend to let you do that. I mean I don't even let Sam do that and-"

"Dean-"

He kept talking. "And he's my brother. I suppose what I'm trying to say-"

The only way she found to stop the boy's rambles was to lean in herself until her lips grazed his own in one kiss - and shut him up for good.

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