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vettelsvee · 5 months

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EACH OTHER BEST KEPT SECRET | Sebastian Vettel

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sebastian vettel x carlos gf!reader

summary: seb's is feeling like shit and the only thing that will make him feel better is having a one night stand with carlos sainz's girlfriend

word count: 4328

warnings: cheating, y/n is carlos sainz's gf and seb is married to hanna (pls do not cheat to your partners!). smut (oral, both female and male receiving; fingering, p in v). curse words. slight degradation. narrated on seb's pov. use of y/n y/l/n.

Mick was by my side with a drink in his hand. He was constantly smiling despite getting a worse result, which only made me feel worse. I had dragged myself here so as not to look bad, and all I felt was that I was letting him down and had become more of a burden to him.

How could I enjoy this crappy party when all I wanted was this season to end when it just started?

"Do you really think bringing me here would help me?" I asked him as I waited for the seventh drink I thought I had taken. "I'm not in the mood, and I'm too old for this."

"I know you're not feeling well, Seb, but you need to disconnect a bit. Trust me, you will feel better.”

I reluctantly agreed.

I tried to smile at everyone who greeted or simply looked at me. I even tried to mingle among the bodies swaying back and forth, as drunk as I was, but it was impossible.

I was disappointed with myself. From being a threat on the track to seeming like a rookie.

"You don't look like a rookie, Seb. At least, not like me."

The voice of the recent Haas addition snapped me out of my thoughts. Had I said that out loud?

"Remember why you started all this, Seb," the boy continued. "The passion you have is still there. What's different are the results you're getting."

"Did I speak out loud?"

"This is the definitive sign for me to realize you’ve had enough alcohol today,” he pointed at my glass, filled to the brim with gin and tonic. "That's the last drink you're having. I don't want to drag you to your room. What would Hanna say if she saw you like this?"

She'd probably want me to have a good time, for sure.

"That I should stop drinking, or what?" I replied to Schumacher.

"Exactly. Don't let the pressure collapse you, Seb. You don't deserve that."

After talking a bit more about the disastrous first race of the year that we both had, Mick dragged me to the center of the dance floor. I refused several times at first, insisting that I wasn't one to let loose in front of others, but the boy was so enthusiastic, and I was so wasted, that I decided to go along with him and the atmosphere.

I moved not as timidly as I expected to the rhythm of the music, setting aside my worries and, above all, starting to care less and less about what would happen from now on with every drop of alcohol I ingested.

I noticed how suddenly Mick stopped. His gaze was fixed on a girl who passed next to us and who, undoubtedly, looked quite attractive, at least that's what the blond's looks confirmed. I also stopped my body's dance and turned to her, but it was quite difficult to recognize who she was among the crowd. Her dark green sequined dress and her raven hair, falling in waves over her back, were, at that moment, the only things that seemed to stand out from her in the dimness of the nightclub.

Who the hell was the girl who seemed to have caught my eye?

"Seb, are you coming?"

Mick's shouts over the music briefly made my eyes divert to him, then quickly return my attention to the stranger. She was now moving quite sensually with who knows who, somehow making me, Sebastian Vettel, married and a father, start to get excited.

"You go ahead, Mick. I'd rather stay here for a while."

My answer, barely audible, was a complete lie.

Of course, I wanted to go with him. What I didn't want was to once again succumb to temptation as I did with Astrid a few years ago.

"Wait, Mick!" I shouted, approaching the boy enough to grab him by the bottom of his shirt and pull him back to me. "Who is she?"

"Don't you know her? Seriously?"

I denied it too many times for him not to understand.

Did he really think that if I knew who she was, I would be asking him?

Mick, with a mischievous smile, finally understood that I was more confused than I would like.

"It's Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N. An influencer. She makes TikTok videos and all that stuff," the blond whispered in my ear. "She's also Carlos's girlfriend, in case you're interested to know."

I tried to remember, but the drunkenness prevented me from recalling any kind of connection or image of that girl. Y/N Y/L/N, Carlos's girlfriend... Sainz? Of course, it had to be Sainz, there was no other Carlos on the grid... that I knew of.

"Oh, yeah, of course," I lied. The last thing I wanted was to admit that right now I didn't remember anything about that girl. "Carlos Sainz dad or son?" I added, then laughed.

Mick looked at me, raising an eyebrow. Clearly, my last comment didn't amuse him.

"You seriously don't remember her?"

"Well, I talk to too many people throughout the day, and I have more important things on my mind than that girl whose dress gives her a perfect ass, you know?" I tried to excuse myself.

"If you don't know her, as you say... Why don't you go and say hello? It never hurts to socialize, and maybe it'll help you forget all the birds you have flying around in your head," the boy insisted, ignoring my previous comments.

I felt a mix of shyness and concern invading me. If I approached the supposed girlfriend of Sainz, not only was I letting down my wife, but also a colleague. I didn't know who could be around here or what might happen if we were seen talking.

I was sure that if I approached her, there were two options: either I made her uncomfortable, or everything was misinterpreted, and we both got into trouble unintentionally.

"I don't want to overwhelm her, Mick," I replied. Right now, I couldn't think of coherent excuses, but any seemed good to me. "What would I say? 'Hello, Sebastian, how are you?' Come on Mick, we're not kids anymore."

Mick crossed his arms. His eyes revealed amusement, and there was no doubt he was enjoying this.

"Seb, you're at a party. Talking is what you do at a party, not talking about cars all the time, that's what briefings are for."

"But..."

"Stop being silly. Go and say hello. You'll see she doesn't bite."

I loved Mick Schumacher like a son and like a little brother, but moments like this were when we seemed like teenage brothers fighting over control of a video game.

"Fine, I'll go say hello," I finally relented.

"You won't regret it, you'll see."

I was sure I would regret it.

I was drunk, and I could barely remember my own name.

I wasn't sober, and I knew I was about to make another mistake, one I didn't know if I would regret as soon as I woke up.

I was Sebastian Vettel, and, of course, adrenaline and the forbidden attracted me.

I had done it once before, and everything had stayed between Astrid and me, so... why not do it again for a second time, and let everything stay between Y/N and me?

"This place is too packed."

Y/N turned around, our chests almost touching. I immediately lowered my gaze, and it was difficult for me to look away from her cleavage, quite revealing.

"I hope it is not full of idiots like you, Vettel. My face is up here, not between my tits."

Shit.

"Sorry," I said, rushing. Did I really have to screw it up now?

"Do you need something, Vettel?"

"Do you want to go out for some fresh air?" I asked without even thinking. "The music is too loud, so it's going to be hard for me to hear you."

Y/N seemed to consider it for a moment. Her expression betrayed indecision and, at the same time, I would dare say curiosity. After a brief silence that felt like an eternity, and where I was praying that she saw me with the same eyes as I saw her, she agreed.

We walked outside, she in front of me and me acting as if I were doing something completely normal. I sat on some steps far enough away so no one could see us; to my surprise, she sat next to me closer than I expected.

"Well, Vettel, what's the reason for wanting to talk to me so badly?" the young woman demanded to know.

I'd like to tell her that I'd like to fuck her tonight, but that wouldn't be very polite of me.

"Well... I don't know. I saw you and I said, 'Oh, it's Y/N, Carlos's girlfriend,'" I emphasized the last part to see if she reacted. There was no reaction on her part, so I counted it as a win. "I wanted to say hi."

"Did your nerves also wanted to say hi?"

I said nothing.

"From the little we've talked you seem like a nice guy, Sebastian," she continued speaking, calling me by my name for the first time. "But today it seems like you're especially quite interested in talking to me. Do you have something else to tell me, or is it just a feeling I have right now because I've been drinking?"

"Maybe."

I tried to keep my composure, but her getting even closer to me, and starting to caress me in a way that sent shivers down my spine, and leaving her hand on my thigh, too close to my member, made all the hair on my body stand on end.

She smiled, and then I knew I had achieved my goal.

"Why don't we go somewhere more private, Seb?" she whispered in my ear. Her index finger traced my arm, while her right hand began to undo a few buttons on my shirt. "It would be great if we continued this conversation without any chance of being interrupted."

"Do you think you're going to talk a lot tonight? The only thing coming out of your mouth is going to be you moaning my name, Y/N."

"Are you sure you're going to get what you might want, Mr. Vettel?"

God. I didn't expect her to play along, but now I was sure I was going to need more of that.

"Sure, as long as Carlos doesn't find out," I said, deep down, with concern.

"Well then, let's get out of here then, as long as Hanna doesn't find out..."

She nodded with a playful smile, and immediately, I forced myself to get up and find a taxi.

Of the thousands that seemed to be around, I decided to stop the only one that was moving towards us. When it stopped in front of us, I opened one of the back doors for Y/N and settled in next to her, putting on my sunglasses to avoid being recognized.

"To the Grove Hotel, please."

No need to say anything else because, in an instant, the driver set off.

As the vehicle moved through the night streets of Bahrain, Y/N and I seemed to become one. Her hands grabbed the collar of my shirt and she pressed her lips against mine. Even knowing that we were taking a risk, I decided to undo her seatbelt to position her on top of me, where I had much greater access to her entire body. The kisses became faster, more aggressive, and I felt my erection growing at a dizzying speed.

"Is your friend happy to see me, Sebastian?" the girl asked, rubbing herself slowly and torturously against my bulge.

"You'll see him as soon as we get to my room."

I couldn't say much more because my hands acted for me, grabbing her neck and starting to bite it, sucking, and surely leaving a few marks that I didn't give a shit if they showed. Her moans grew louder and louder, begging me for more.

We were lucky that our journey had ended because I was more than convinced that if we had continued like that, I would have fucked her right there.

We got out quickly, trying to act as if nothing had happened, but once we were in the elevator we acted the same way again. Torturing each other seemed to have become the main game of the night, caring less and less about being discovered. The forbidden seemed to excite us more, and I didn't blame the Spanish woman: after all, it was me who had started everything.

When we reached the door of my room I forced myself to stop kissing her. Y/N, however, stood behind me on tiptoe, wrapping her arms around my neck. I turned around and wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me and searching her eyes to see if she wanted the same thing I did at that moment.

"Do you want to come in?" I asked in a soft, husky voice.

She nodded, and with a movement that seemed memorized, I swiped the card through the reader, opened the door, and forced her to step inside.

Once I made sure I had locked the door, I knew everything was done.

She wearing only her black lace underwear, threw herself into my arms to continue what she had been doing on our way here. I lifted her astride me, her legs around my waist, and leaned her back against the wall, continuing to kiss her fiercely while she finished unbuttoning my shirt, throwing it somewhere as soon as she finished her task.

"Y/N..."

"You're horny, aren't you, Sebastian?"

"If you know I am why the fuck do you ask?"

My reluctant comment made the young woman hit my ches. I knew she wanted to go down, so I let her down and, as soon as her feet touched the carpeted surface, she got on her knees and started to unfasten my belt, then the button of my pants before pulling them down.

She left a trail of kisses on the lower part of my stomach and on the beginning of my groin, playing at the same time with the elastic of my boxers and my member.

"Let's see what we have here..."

She pulled down my underwear in one swift motion, leaving my cock, fully erect, exposed.

Her right hand wrapped around it in an instant, moving it up and down too slowly for my liking. I began to sigh, but I refused to beg her to speed up, hoping she would realize it herself. Soon enough, her tongue started to lick my tip, and pre-cum appeared as if out of nowhere; before I knew it, she was sucking on it like a child with a lollipop.

"You look so good like this, Y/N. I know that having another man's cock in your mouth, not your boyfriend's, turns you on more than you might want to admit. You must be fucking wet..."

I couldn't say anything else, but my moans seemed to say it all. My hands were on her head, indirectly urging her to go faster because I was getting closer and closer to what I hoped would be the first orgasm of the night. She listened to me: at least that's what she seemed to understand when a much greater sense of pleasure invaded me as her tongue began to make circular movements on my glans while she continued to suck without stopping and masturbate the part that wouldn't fit.

I came in her mouth without warning, and she swallowed everything without a word, moving her tongue over her lips to finish taking the remnants.

She got up and the only thing I could do, almost powerless, was throw her onto the bed and position myself on top of her to undress her and finally make her mine.

After unhooking her bra and being just about to start taking care of her lower part, my cell phone began to ring.

"Damn it..."

"Pick it up, daddy," she demanded. "We don't want anyone to find out about our secret, do we?"

Having her beneath me, teasing me as if she were an innocent schoolgirl, when all she was doing was provoking me even more, got me even hornier.

I picked up the phone and saw who the call was from.

Hanna.

"It's my wife," was all I could say. The annoying ringtone kept on, but I didn't dare to answer the call.

"Why aren't you answering?"

"I'm with you, darling. Let it wait."

"What if we do something better?"

The girl sat up a bit on the bed and moved to the edge of it. The call seemed to be continuing, and my unease grew. Did Hanna imagine what I was doing right now, like this, with Y/N? Did she even consider the possibility that I might be unfaithful?

"Sebastian," the girl spoke again, "eat me while you talk to your wife."

"What?"

"Don't you want to play?" she asked. Again, that playful tone that turned me on so much came from her lips. "Well, let's play, but let’s do it my way."

I hated being challenged, and it seemed she knew it perfectly well.

Great. Did she want to play? Well, she was going to get it.

I got on my knees, still holding the phone in my hand. Hanna had already hung up, but that didn't mean I couldn't do things properly.

I selected her contact and put the call on speaker, leaving the device on the bed. I grabbed Y/N by her thighs and dragged her a bit further onto the surface, aligning her pussy perfectly with my face.

I yanked her panties off and the girl let out a surprised scream that coincided with my wife answering the call.

"Seb, are you okay? Is something wrong?"

And indeed, something was wrong, but Hanna Vettel wasn't aware of it, nor could she be.

"Yes, yes..." I replied as calmly as I could while I began to play with a finger between the girl's folds, spreading her wetness all over her pussy to lubricate her well. "It's just that I had to come to the bathroom because it was too noisy, and,you know how people are... having sex in stalls where barely one person fits."

Taking advantage of the fact that now it was my wife's turn to talk, I began to entertain myself with the girl's clitoris, who was ending her moans by putting a hand over her mouth.

"Do you remember when we used to do it?" my wife exclaimed excitedly. "We should do it again next time I come to see you."

"Damn it, Seb!"

"Honey, did I hear someone say your name, or am I just imagining things? Please tell me I'm not going crazy."

Shit. Sticking two fingers inside Y/N without warning hadn't been a good idea.

"No, no, no! There's another guy here named Sebastian. He met a girl named... Y/N, and look, now he must be doing something good to her for the girl to have screamed," I lied the best I could.

"And you're doing it really well," Y/N whispered so that only I could hear. "No wonder Hanna wants to do it with you in some disco bathroom. Who wouldn't fuck you anywhere?"

I took the opportunity to spread her legs even further and sliding my tongue, flat, over her entrance, moving up slowly enough to make her desperate, all the way up to her clitoris. Her hand was on my hair, gripping it tightly so that I wouldn't stop; I quickly moved it away and nodded towards the phone, where Hanna was still on the line.

"When are you coming back, Seb?" my wife spoke again. "The girls are asking more and more about you, and I don't know what else to tell them to make them stop."

"Well..."

Shit. Y/N had to stop arching her back, tilting her head back, and massaging her right breast because all that did was let me know that she was about to come, and for now, I didn't want her to reach that point.

My goal at that moment was twofold: to prevent Hanna, my wife, from discovering what I was doing, and to prevent Y/N, who seemed to be my new lover, from coming, no matter that three of my fingers were entering and exiting her at the same time as the tip of my tongue moved quickly over her clitoris.

"Seb? Can you hear me? Do you have coverage?"

"Yes, yes!" I hoped I didn't have coverage. "Although it's getting worse every time I think.”

The Spanish girl was close, I could feel it in the contractions of her entrance around my fingers. I wrapped my arms around her thighs and pulled her even closer to me, if that was even possible. I placed my right hand on the lower part of her stomach, forcing her to stay still.

"Hey, Hanna, I'm going to hang up because I think my phone is running out of battery," I lied again. Now, my only goal was to eagerly lick my new girl, not to talk to the woman I had been sharing my life with for years. "How about we talk tomorrow? I'll call you before I'm at the airport."

"Sure, Seb. Take care and don't do anything crazy, okay? And take care of Mick too, I don't want him doing anything crazy either."

I didn't give her time to say anything else because I pressed the red button at the same time as I withdrew from Y/N.

"You're a son of a bitch, Sebastian Vettel," was all the young woman said. I knew she wanted to kill me at that moment for leaving her on the edge of ecstasy.

"You know as well as I do that you'll thank me soon when I make you mine. The next time you fuck Carlos you regret it’s not me making you feel wanting to be fucked like the slut you are."

I put on the condom as quickly as I could and forced her legs to wrap around my waist.

I entered her abruptly, and now I was convinced that her scream had gone beyond the four walls surrounding us.

"Oh God, Sebastian. Don't stop, please."

"I hadn't planned on it, angel," I replied as best I could. Pleasure had invaded me too quickly, and I was quite surprised.

Why was the forbidden so tempting?

Her back arched again as my thrusts increased in both speed and depth. Her legs seemed to give way because I knew it would be difficult for her to hold out without coming after having been so close before; I kept them on my waist with one of my hands, while the other began to rub her most sensitive spot relentlessly.

"Look at me."

My voice sounded too demanding, but I didn't care.

"Look at me right now, angel," I repeated after seeing that she hadn't listened to me.

I felt her walls surrounding my penis as if her insides were on fire. Her gaze tortured me; her teeth biting her lower lip made me want to put her in a thousand more positions, to keep going with her until we both died of pleasure.

My hips increased in speed when I felt the nervousness in the lower part of my stomach. Then, I forced her to lie down more to start kissing her neck desperately, licking and sucking her nipples, making her sighs increase and forcing me to forget all worries.

Was it the same person who just a few hours ago was crawling around the corners because she had stopped being who she was a few years ago?

If having sex with Y/N would make me forget everything, I was more than condemned to madness because that was what I intended to keep doing if she allowed me.

"Seb..." the girl gasped. I felt her nails digging into my back. The pain that on another occasion would have seemed unbearable was now giving me pleasure.

I was desperate to come. I felt like I was about to explode, but I controlled myself because I didn't want the night to end so soon.

My hands went from holding her lower extremities to massaging her breasts, so big they didn't fit in my hands. I forced myself to stop giving her hickeys on her neck to lift myself up a little and enjoy the sight in front of me. My cock entered and exited Y/N constantly, more regularly even though I couldn't take it anymore; her breasts moving so irregularly because self-control was impossible, and her hand massaging her clit forcefully to come once and for all was an absolute damnation.

"Sebastian!"

I watched her squint her eyes after her shout because she wanted to see herself reach what we both had longed for that night. I followed her with a guttural sound and my semen filling the condom as my hands gripped her hips for as long as I was coming.

I stayed inside her long enough to realize that it had been real.

Meanwhile, silence had taken over. The only thing that could be heard was our breaths, agitated and synchronized with the rhythm of our chests.

I ran two of my fingers over her entrance before lying down, and without me telling her anything, she took them in her mouth, savoring herself. She did the same when she kissed me again, now lying on top of me.

"I want to keep going like this, Sebastian," she whispered, kissing me again in between. "But neither Carlos nor Hanna can find out."

"That's fine with me, angel. From now on, we're both each other's best kept secret."

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scarrletmoon · 12 days

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okay i’m not trying to be eloquent here i’m just putting down thoughts

i hate thinking and talking about izzy this much bc i know i wouldn’t be if the post s1 hiatus hadn’t been such a dumpster fire, but i wish his “redemption” arc had been handled with more care and i can’t figure out how much of that is just personal preference

bc the thing is, ofmd went further than i think a lesser show would, making it clear that izzy, a white character, really did tangibly and deeply hurt ed, a brown character, and didn’t try to sugarcoat or justify it

on the other hand, the way the crew bands together to help him, and how the story gives him so much grace, i think rubs me the wrong way, and was why i panicked midway through s2, worried that the show was going to say “you’ve been taught that white feelings matter more than being held accountable for their actions and this is another case where you’re right”

bc ed’s the one who physically hurt izzy. ed’s the one who didn’t just turn the other cheek. ed wasn’t the “perfect” abuse victim. in every other story, despite everything izzy did to him, ed doesn’t deserve the happy ending. he forfeited that by being angry, even if he had every right to be upset

so it’s such a relief that the show doesn’t think that at all. but. there’s this disconnect between what we know and what the characters do. the only people who seem to know exactly what izzy did are izzy and ed. will the crew ever find out what izzy did? and if they do, what will their reaction be?

i think that might be where i’m at, and why it’s extra frustrating that i can’t definitively shut down people who say “izzy wasn’t abusive” bc even if izzy said it with his own mouth, the people around him don’t react like he was all that bad and maybe im projecting but idk im just. :/ you know?

#scarrlet rambles

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theemporium · 11 months

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39 pls

this is just a tester...unsure how i feel about it...i just kinda wanted to see if i could write him or not...anyways!!🤠

39. "everything is going to be okay" kisses

It was stupid. Or at least, you felt pretty damn stupid over the whole thing.

It was stupid because the whole damn thing was so predictable, and therefore, avoidable. It didn’t have to work out like this. Your day didn’t have to start like this. There were so many other—and better—things you could have done and yet, just like an old habit you couldn’t quite shake off, you gave in.

You answered your mother’s phone call despite knowing better.

For a short moment, you thought it could be different. You thought that, for once in your life, you could have a civil conversation with the woman who gave birth to you like any other child should have been able to do. But that thought lasted a total of three minutes before the snide remarks began and the rest of the pieces fell into place.

The little comments about your life. The way you moved away from home like you were better than the rest of your family. The fact that your dreams and goals never quite aligned with the ones she painted out for you the day you were born. It went from your lifestyle to your job to your appearance. She covered every base, every single detail of your life that she thought you were undeserving of.

Not that she would say the words so bluntly. No, they were firmly hidden under the guise of a mother concerned for her daughter.

You were near tears by the end of the call, but by some stubborn save of grace, you had managed to hold it in until you muttered out a lame excuse and quickly hung up. But the second the soft beep of the phone disconnecting echoed through the room, the sobs started and you couldn’t really stop them.

You didn’t even hear Oscar come in before you felt his body sliding onto the bed in front of you, his warm palms resting on your shaking arms.

“Baby,” it was uttered in such a soft, worried voice that you couldn’t help but let out a choked noise of guilt.

He was a blur of coloured blobs through your teary eyes, whilst you probably looked like a mess with puffy cheeks and a red nose. But that didn’t stop him from moving his hands up to engulf your face, his thumbs swiping over the apples of your cheeks to wipe away the falling tears.

“Tell me what’s happened,” he murmured, soft yet demanding. He wanted to help. God, every cell in his body was practically twitching to help you but he couldn’t do it if he didn’t know where to begin.

However, as it would turn out, words wouldn’t be necessary as your gaze fell down to your abandoned phone across the bed and the rest clicked in his head.

“Oh baby,” he sighed softly before his arms were around you, pulling you onto his lap as your limbs wound around his torso.

He didn’t let you go as you cried. He kept your body pressed against his, chest to chest with both your hearts thumping wildly. His fingers aimlessly traced random shapes along your spine, anything to help ground and soothe you until the blubbering sobs stopped and it felt a little easier to get air into your lungs.

“I shouldn’t have answered it,” you sniffled, your face buried into the crook of his neck. “I know I shouldn’t of—”

“But she’s your mother,” Oscar finished for you. “And despite everything, a part of you will always hope that she’s changed.”

“Does that make me stupid?” You wondered out loud.

His arms tightened around you. “Not at all, sweetheart.”

“Feels like it,” you admitted to the boy.

He pushed you back a bit, just enough for you to lift your head from his shoulder despite the whine you let out. His hands were encompassing your face again, his brows furrowed together as he took in your tear-stricken face.

“She doesn’t know you—the real you. And maybe she never will. But the people who do know the real you love you, and we always will,” Oscar spoke in a soft voice. “You hear me?”

You nodded.

“Good,” he murmured before he leaned forward, his lips pressing against yours in a gentle but firm kiss. Nothing crazy or passionate or racing for you to be pulling off his clothes, but more than enough to feel the love and admiration melting off him. That little reminder that regardless of everything, you’d always have him in your corner. “What do you think about a pick-me-up?”

“This is more than enough,” you assured him as you leaned into his hold on your face.

His lips twitched upwards. “So no ice cream?”

“Woah, slow down, Piastri. I never said that.”

#oscar piastri #formula one #f1 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fic #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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kazutora-kurokawa · 8 months

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Cheater!Bonten!Mikey x Fem Reader

♡ NSFW obviously, Reader is Mikey's assistant and sidepiece, Reader is kind of a homewrecker, Mikey is married to a random woman, long ass fic because this idea was driving me crazy last night, also thinking about making a taglist but I'm not entirely sure ♡

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

~I wonder if she knows it ain't your sister that she's sharing all her time with. She may do the cooking and the cleaning, but that's my dick~

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It was a marriage of convenience. She didn't really love him, all she cared about was the power he held in the palm of his hand. At least that's what he told himself. Repeating it in his head like a mantra, as if saying it enough would make it true. But in reality, she did love him. That didn't really matter to him though, not right now. Not with you underneath him, looking so beautiful. Every inch of your body on display for him and only him. You were all his and despite his marriage he was yours.

He didn't plan to cheat on his wife, but there was something about you he just couldn't resist. He hired you as his assistant 5 months ago, but your relationship quickly escalated from professional to romantic. He always seemed distracted when you were around, and you took notice. You weren't the only one though, the Bonten executives could see it too. They felt the tension in the air when you two were in the same room, the sweet tone in his voice when he talked to you, the way his eyes undressed you. They all know about your relationship. They also know to keep quiet about it if they want to stay on his good side.

They couldn't help but feel sorry for his wife though, imagine how heartbroken she'd be if she found out about you. The way he talks to you, the way he looks at you, the way he fucks you. If only she knew how he flaunted you around town. Taking you to the most expensive restaurants, sitting in the VIP sections of Bonten's clubs. And she'd just die of a broken heart if she knew that he's brought you back home and fucked you in the same bed she sleeps in. Filling your pussy with his cum and your head with promises of leaving her and becoming your husband.

He just can't help himself. He's just so... obsessed with you. He doesn't just want you, he needs you. He'd rather die than not be able to feel you gripping his dick with your tight cunt. He loves you more than he'll ever love her, so it's not hard to grasp how truly relieved he is when his wife gets home early from a shopping trip. The clunking of her designer heels stops at the bedroom door. Mikey knows it's over, so he doesn't bother stopping. Why would he when he knows how close you are? Your breath hitches as the doorknob slowly turns and Mikey deepens his thrusts, hitting every spot you like. There she is, his poor, heartbroken wife. She drops the bags she was holding in shock and covers her mouth with her hands. The tears start flowing as he looks over at her. Your hands disconnect from his shoulders, yet his hands still gripped your waist. He seemed annoyed at her presence.

"Manjiro... how could you do this to me?"

He thought for a second before he responded.

"We might be married, but I'm not obligated to stay faithful to you. Especially when I'm not even in love with you."

She looked at him in disbelief, then at you. You looked away, not because you felt ashamed for sleeping with her husband, but because of the secondhand embarrassment you got from her crying. She turned around, stumbling out of the room and out of the house. Mikey looked away from the doorway and down at you. He leaned down and kissed your forehead before whispering in your ear.

"Now I'm all yours."

#tokyo revengers #mikey sano #tokyo revengers smut #mikey x reader #bonten mikey #tokyo revengers x reader

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sebstanaddict · 10 months

Text

The Prettiest Girl

Sebastian Stan x Reader One Shot

Summary: When you interview Sebastian Stan but all he wants is to flirt with you 🤭

A/N : I've been wanting to write this for a while. It's just a little something I wrote for fun. Hope it brings a smile to your face 😊

Warning : just pure fluff and maybe A Different Man spoiler although the movie isn't even out yet, so 😆

Word count: 2.9k

My other one shots >

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Soho, New York - November 11th 2023 - 3.50 pm

—

Millions of soft icy particles fell from the heavens down to the earth on that fateful Saturday afternoon in Soho, New York. They covered everything from trees, buildings, pavements and the top of people's heads. Some had stuck on one particular window of an apartment and created beautiful patterns.

Y/n looked out the window and smiled. It had been snowing all day and it didn't look like it was going to stop soon. Everything looked white and the atmosphere felt serene and beautiful. Despite the cold she had always loved looking at snow and playing with them. She couldn’t wait to go out and make some snow men at the nearest park once the snow had stopped falling. But now she had a job to do.

She sat at her working corner in her bedroom and turned the laptop on. Moments later she opened the zoom application and started setting up her webcam so it showed her clearly with one of the walls in her bedroom as the background. She tidied her hair a little and fixed her white buttoned up blouse so that she looked presentable. Satisfied with how she looked, she entered the empty virtual room in the zoom application.

Her heart rate started to rise as she looked at her laptop screen. As a senior editor at one of the world’s top entertainment media, she was used to interviewing many celebrities. But that afternoon she was scheduled to interview the Hollywood A List actor and Marvel star Sebastian Stan, someone whom she had been in love with for quite some time. Despite having worked at the entertainment media for ten years, it was the first time she got the chance to interview Sebastian and she couldn’t help but feel very nervous about it.

She picked up the paper which had a list of questions she was going to ask him as well as some facts about his upcoming movie. Yes, one of the reasons for the interview was for him to promote the new movie. She had seen the movie and it was quite an interesting movie. She couldn’t wait to hear from him more about it.

She was re-reading the third question when the screen in front of her flickered and Sebastian’s face was shown on the screen.

“Hello!” Sebastian smiled wide and greeted her, making butterflies fly around in her stomach. How could someone look so gorgeous? She pondered as she stared at the screen and admired his beautiful face. Sebastian had let his hair grow but not that much. It was short but fluffy at the top. He had a very light layer of stubble like he just shaved yesterday. But of course it was his ocean blue eyes that mesmerized her the most.

“Hello Y/n.. earth to Y/n. Can you see me? Can you hear me?” Sebastian asked and she blinked several times, finally snapping out of being drowned in his gorgeous eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I can see you. I can hear you. Sorry.” She blushed as he smiled again at her.

“Oh okay, that’s good. I'm sorry but I'm currently traveling and I'm stuck in traffic right now. So if I get disconnected or something it's ‘cause I'm on the road.” He said as he turned his camera around making her see that he was in a car.

“Oh okay. You know if it's a bad time, we can do this later.” She suggested.

“Oh no, it's okay. I mean as long as it's not two hours long. You know.” He chuckled.

“Oh of course not. Depending on your answers this could take half an hour to an hour at most.” She replied.

“Alright. I'll try to keep my answers short.” He said.

“Well, if you need to elaborate please feel free to do that.”

“Yeah.. yeah.. of course.” He smiled and for a second she could see like he was really seeing her for the first time.

“You look great by the way.” He winked and she felt like her heart leapt out of her chest.

“Uh.. thank you.You look great yourself.” She blushed yet again that she was sure she looked as red as a tomato.

“Oh, thank you.. “ He smiled shyly and she could see that he was blushing too. She loved how he could sometimes be uncomfortable when people compliment him. It was so endearing to her.

“Anyway, how are you? How is Atlanta?” she asked. As it happened, Sebastian was in Atlanta to shoot the next Marvel movie.

“I’m good, thanks. Atlanta is, well, it’s been cold but not that cold. We’ve been shooting indoors a lot with wires and stuff. It’s been hard and exhausting. But, you know, I shouldn’t complain. I really shouldn’t. It’s been great fun.” He replied.

“Can you tell me if Anthony is there?” she asked with a small smile on her lips.

“You know I can’t tell you that. I signed an NDA! I can’t.” He chuckled.

“But.. maybe off the record I can tell you. Later on.” He winked again and she felt butterflies yet again. She couldn’t believe how flirty he was to her.

“Okay, anyway, are you ready?” She asked.

“Yes, of course. Go on.” He smiled and she felt butterflies again in her stomach. Maybe this was a bad idea. She thought as she tried to compose herself.

“Good afternoon, Sebastian.” She finally greeted him after hitting the record button and smiled at him.

“Good afternoon!” He answered, smiling wide at her.

“Thank you for doing this for us and giving your time amidst your busy shooting schedule.” She said.

“Oh no, thank you for allowing me to do this.” He said and she nodded.

“So, Sebastian, you have a new movie releasing soon called A Different Man, directed by Aaron Schimberg starring yourself, the Norwegian break out actress Renate Reinsve and the British actor Adam Pearson.” She said and this time he nodded.

“I had the privilege to see it yesterday thanks to you and the director Aaron, and I must say that it is a very interesting and out of the box movie. Could you tell me how you got involved with it?” She asked.

“Oh yeah. My agent sent me the script and I think it was such an interesting script. I mean, it’s very rare to see movies with this subject matter. The director Aaron had done another movie before this called Chained For Life that had a similar subject matter. In that movie he also cast Adam. And I watched the movie and I fell in love with it. The way Aaron told the story was very unique. I haven’t seen anything like it in a long while. And yeah, I thought that the movie was something that I would love to be involved in.”

“Aside from being the main actor, you are also a producer in this movie. Is that correct?”

“Yeah I am. It’s the first movie I ever produced.”

“What made you decide to be involved not just as an actor? But also as a producer?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about producing for a while but never got anything I was excited about until this one came. Aaron needed some help and seeing his talent and his previous work I decided to jump into it and help him out.”

“I see. So, in this movie, you play someone with neurofibromatosis, and you had to change your face completely. How did it feel to be under all those prosthetics and looking in the mirror and saw a completely different version of you?”

“It felt surreal of course. It took a long long time to get the prosthetics on correctly the first time. I think it took almost a whole day. But then they figured it out and the next day I basically just had to put on like a mask and then they added some more stuff on my face to blend it in.”

“Oh, that’s really interesting. I’m sure it helped a lot in your performance looking completely different.”

“Yeah, yeah. It helped a lot in that I just needed to look in the mirror and just like that I felt like a completely different person.” He said as he snapped his fingers.

“And it showed. Being someone who have seen your work a lot over the years, I must say you have done the best job of your career.”

“Oh my gosh. That’s.. really?” He asked, his face reddened and he put one hand on the side of his face.

“Yeah. Really. It was your best work in my opinion and I wouldn’t be surprised if you get an Oscar nomination for it. I really wouldn’t.” She smiled.

“That’s.. wow.. it means a lot, coming from you. Really.” He smiled and she couldn’t help but blush again. She couldn't believe he would say something like that.

“Umm.. yeah. Anyway, could you tell me how Adam and Renate got involved?” She asked, deciding to ignore what he said. She was just going to cut that part out and pretended he never said it.

“Oh yeah, with Adam it was a no brainer really. Aaron had cast him even before I got involved. Adam was actually involved waaay before I did. As for Renate. I had seen her movie The Worst Person In The World and I loved her performance in it. It was so real and raw. I knew when I read the script I wanted someone like her to play Ingrid. So I suggested her to Aaron and he agreed and I sought her out and well, the rest is history.”

“I can see why you wanted her to play Ingrid.”

“Yeah, she possesses this instinct as an actor that I haven't seen in a while. It was really a pleasure to work with someone who can keep up with you and even challenge you in their own way. You know. It was very rewarding as an actor to be able to work with someone like her. She was really something else. Kind of like you.” He winked.

“Excuse me?” She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

“Yeah.. I'm sorry but.. umm.. I really have to say this. I have never seen any girl looking as pretty as you are, especially when you blush. You’re quite literally the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” He said and her heart seemed to leap out of her chest as she heard him. Once again she couldn’t believe how flirty he was to her!

“Oh stop it, Sebastian. I will definitely edit this out.” She chuckled as her face continued to redden.

“Oh no, don’t. I want people to see that.” he teased again.

“But that has nothing to do with the interview so I will definitely edit it out.” she insisted.

“Fine, I’m just gonna repeat it along the way, on the record and off the record, later on.” he winked and she just shook her head.

“Okay, back to the topic of your movie.”

“You’re so serious. I like that about you.” He teased her again and she felt herself blush yet again.

“There it is.. the blush. I love it.” He chuckled.

“Sebastian, please.”

“Please what, Y/n?” he asked as his voice suddenly changed to be huskier, as much as she didn’t believe it.

“Please stop flirting with me. I’m trying to do my job.” she protested.

“I'm sorry. I'm being really unprofessional aren't I?” He sighed and she nodded.

“Okay, I'm sorry. I'll try to be more professional as long as you promise me something.”

“Okay.. promise you what?”

“That you'll go out with me.”

Her heart seemed to stop as she heard him. This couldn't be happening, she thought in disbelief.

“You're in Atlanta and I'm in New York. How are we going to do it?” She asked, suddenly feeling courageous enough to tease him back about it because she was certain he was just joking with her for whatever reason.

“You know I go back to New York every weekend. So, we can go this weekend!” He said excitedly.

“Okay. Sure. I need to ask my husband's permission first though.” She said as an idea popped into her head and his eyes widened.

“Your husband's permission? I should have known someone as gorgeous as you is already taken. I'm too late aren't I?” He said dejectedly and she couldn't help but chuckle. He looked so cute pouting like that.

“Well.. yeah. You are too late. I'm sorry. But, he's quite an open minded person so maybe I can ask him.“ she said teasingly.

“Oh good! Where is your husband? Let me ask him myself.” He challenged.

“Wait here.” She chuckled and she stood up. She went to her bed and picked up a life size human shaped pillow with Sebastian's face on it then brought it back to her working desk.

“There he is. Sebastian say hello to pillow!Sebastian.” She said, showing the pillow to the webcam and the real Sebastian on the screen threw his head back and laughed.

“Oh my God! Hello pillow!Sebastian! I would like to ask for your permission to ask your beautiful wife out, please. I can't stand looking at her being so pretty like that. I must have her. Please. Could you do me a favor and divorce her?” He asked and she laughed.

“He said over his dead body.” She replied after her laughter subsided and he pouted again, making her laugh again.

“Hey pillow!Sebastian, I literally bought you for her and now you have the audacity to steal her from me?! Unbelievable!” He protested.

“He's sorry but he said he loves me and he can't divorce me.” She teased him again and he pouted yet again.

“Sweetheart, listen to me. I can’t do this and sit here miles away from you when you look so amazingly beautiful like that just teasing me with your pretty face. You have no idea what I'm imagining right now.” He said, gazing at her with eyes full of love and dare she said it, lust.

“Oh, what are you imagining?” she asked. Despite knowing this was very unprofessional of him, she couldn't help but be curious about it.

“I'm imagining being there with you and placing my hands on the sides of your face and just.. kiss that pretty lips of yours.” he said slowly, his voice low and husky.

She shivered as she listened to him and felt butterflies again in her stomach.

“I miss you, sweetheart.” He continued, staring at her with longing and she smiled.

“I miss you too, Iubirea mea.” she replied, making him smile.

“There it is. I love when you call me that.” He smiled.

“I love calling you that too.” She smiled.

“So, go out with me this weekend?” He asked and she of course couldn't answer with anything else.

“Sure. I'd love to go out with you, my darling husband.” She winked and he laughed.

“Glad to hear that my lovely wife.” he replied making her smile.

Just then his camera shook and he turned to the side.

“Oh, great! We're here!” He said excitedly.

“Sorry, I have to go, sweetheart.” He turned to her.

“Oh okay. Yeah. I'll talk to you later?” She asked.

“Wait.” He said as the camera continued to shake. She could hear the sound of a car door opening and closing and then the camera turned to show the sky as Sebastian continued to move.

“Seb? Sebastian?” She called out.

It seemed he didn't hear her as his phone's camera continued to shoot at the sky and then it showed a ceiling as Sebastian seemed to be entering a building. She studied the ceiling and thought that it looked familiar. Then it seemed like he was entering an elevator. A familiar ding could be heard as the elevator stopped and Sebastian got out of it. She continued to watch with a smile on her face as Sebastian seemed to be walking. Then he stopped and turned his phone's camera back on his face.

“Sweetheart. There's a surprise for you at the door.” He said with a twinkle in his eyes.

She laughed and immediately ran out of her room and towards the front door. She opened it wide and there he was, Sebastian Stan, staring at her like he saw the sun for the first time.

“Hi.” He smiled as he switched his cellphone off and put it in his pocket.

“Hi.” She smiled back, her heart beating so fast in her chest.

“I was right.” He said as he walked slowly closer to her.

“About what?” She asked, feeling like she was going to faint seeing him so close to her.

“You are.. literally.. the prettiest girl.. I've ever seen.” He smiled as he gently placed both hands on the sides of her face and gazed at her with longing.

“Oh shut up and just kiss me.” She said and he laughed.

And with that he pulled her closer to him and gently kissed her lips, causing fireworks to explode in her chest. She pulled him into her apartment and closed the door behind him as her plans obviously changed that afternoon. Interviews can wait. Snow men can wait. At that moment all she wanted was to be with him. Sebastian Stan. The love of her life.

#sebastian stan #sebastianstan #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan fluff

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chiriwritesstuff · 8 months

Text

'Love, Joel'- a 'The Girl in IT' Companion Piece - Pt. 1 - 'The Tornado Watch'

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

Chapter Rating: T

Chapter Preview: "Joel?" your voice calls out, followed by a knock on his window. "What the hell are you doing here? The news issued a tornado watch. You shouldn't be here," you say, frowning. Despite your concern, Joel can't help but smile at the sight of you. Your hair is tied into a messy bun on the top of your head, and your oversized sleep shirt falls off one shoulder. If you weren't frowning at him, he swears the mere sight of you would knock him off his feet. His hands itch to reach out to you, pulling you into his truck so he can kiss that frown off of your face, wishing you a good morning. He imagines his fingertips grazing the skin of your bared shoulder, pressing a kiss on your skin as your head tilts in pleasure-

Chapter Warnings and Tags: Strong language, Joel is an idiot who disregards weather warnings, please be smart and shelter if caught in a tornado warning!, no beta we die like men!

Word Count: 2K

A/N: ... and here it is! Part 1 of my 500 Follower Celebration, 'Love, Joel'- a look behind the 10 years of Joel's pining for our favorite girl in IT, Sugar. I thought it would be really fun to see what happened in the span of those 10 years, where Joel worked his ass off trying to feel worthy of our girl! Thank you so much for all of the love and support you all have given me and this little fic of mine, words can't describe just how much it all means to me!

Remember when Sugar asked Joel about the moment he realized he was in love with her and he mentioned something about a Tornado Watch? This is that story.

The National Weather Service in Austin/San Antonio has issued a Tornado Watch for Travis County until 5pm... please do not attempt to leave and find shelter-

"Dad, are you serious?" Sarah's voice echoes through the phone in disbelief. "The entire campus is on lockdown, and I'm stuck in a basement with 50 other panicked girls. Why in the world are you heading to work?"

"The weather lady mentioned it's just a tornado watch, not a warning," Joel defends.

Sarah sighs on the other end of the line. "I really think you should turn around and head back home, you know, like a rational human being."

"Can't do that. The project is already behind, and I can't afford for it to fall even further behind. Plus, I owe Tommy money for all the overtime he's been putting in," Joel explains, a touch of frustration evident in his voice. "I'm already in hot water with the client as it is. You know how it is, baby girl."

"I'm pretty sure this client of yours is sitting comfortably in their own shelter in that big house of theirs. The actual nerve—"

"Sarah, I get it, okay? The moment it escalates to a warning, I'll come down from the roof and join them in that cushy shelter, okay?" Joel reassures, attempting to ease Sarah's concerns.

"Promise?" she asks softly, and Joel envisions the hint of a frown in her voice. "Or else I won't come home over the weekend."

"You're going to come back home this weekend?" Joel's spirits lift, a grin playing on his face as he heads towards the job site.

"Promise me, Dad!"

"Cross my heart," he assures, turning into the driveway. "Need a ride, or you're good to make it back yourself?"

"I think I can handle an hour drive." She replies with a small chuckle. "I don't have a good feeling about this, but be safe, okay? I love you."

"Love you too, baby girl. Go shelter with the other girls now, ok?"

"Ok dad, bye."

"Bye," he says absentmindedly, the phone already disconnected after Sarah hangs up.

Joel turns off the ignition, a deep sigh escaping from his chest. He gazes into the distance, the burden of the tornado watch weighing heavily on him. He should be at home right now, preparing by filling water bottles, checking for enough batteries for lanterns and flashlights, tuning into the television for weather updates, and patiently waiting out the storm.

Instead, echoes of his client's disappointed voice from yesterday's confrontation linger in Joel's mind, questioning why a 'simple roof repair' is stretching beyond the agreed-upon month.

"I paid you good money and took a chance on you, and you can't even deliver..."

What haunts him more is the image of you in the background, concern etched across your face.

"Dad, you can't blame him for the crappy weather we've been having! Of course, the project would be delayed," you try to reason, awkwardly placing a hand on your father's shoulder in an attempt to soothe his frustration.

"Is it your money that's paying for your mistake?" your father snaps back, shrugging off your hand. "Or do we need to revisit why you thought mounting an antenna on the roof was a brilliant idea? Who do you think you are, concerning yourself in an adult conversation?" he chides, crossing his arms. "Go back inside and help your mother with breakfast!"

Offering Joel a weak smile, you nod, turning back towards the house. Joel smiles back, the sight of your concerned face pulling at his heartstrings. His hands itch to push the errant stray hair away from your face, his hands grazing the softness of your skin spanning across your face-

"Well? What are you doing just standing there?" your father snaps. "Don't you have a roof to fix?"

Just a few more days, Joel. You can do this, he reassures himself. He idles in the car for a bit, observing the darkening grey sky. At least Sugar should be home, maybe she'll keep me company...

"Joel?" your voice calls out, followed by a knock on his window. "What the hell are you doing here? The news issued a tornado watch. You shouldn't be here," you say, frowning.

Despite your concern, Joel can't help but smile at the sight of you. Your hair is tied into a messy bun on the top of your head, and your oversized sleep shirt falls off one shoulder. If you weren't frowning at him, he swears the mere sight of you would knock him off his feet. His hands itch to reach out to you, pulling you into his truck so he can kiss that frown off of your face, wishing you a good morning. He imagines his fingertips grazing the skin of your bared shoulder, pressing a kiss on your skin as your head tilts in pleasure-

"Hello? Are you even listening to me?" your concerned voice cuts through his reverie, snapping him back to the present. "Go home, Joel. I'm sure Sarah is worried sick-" you bite your lower lip, your lips wobbling a tiny fraction. "-and I don't want you stuck here if things take a turn for the worse," you insist, a hint of worry in your eyes.

Joel opens his truck door, shaking his head. "No can do, Sugar. You heard your dad yesterday; I need to finish this job and get out of y'all's hair. I've already overstayed my welcome."

"I don't give a fuck what my father says, he's just being difficult as fucking usual. He's already up in arms fussing around about the watch, i'm pretty sure he's not concerned whether or not you'll show up or not," you say defiantly, frustration flushing your face. "I swear, if you don't go home, I'll force you to shelter with me!"

Well, Joel muses, the corner of his mouth rising in a smirk. Now that's an idea I wouldn't be opposed to-

"I'm a big boy, Sugar. It's just a tornado watch, no need to worry about little ol me, okay?" he smiles, cupping your cheek. Fuck, her skin is soft-

you lean into his touch, your eyes closing in resignation.

"Okay Joel," you whisper, your hand meeting his. "The moment Nancy over at KXAN mutters anything about a tornado warning, I'm climbing up that fucking ladder myself and dragging your ass to shelter, okay?"

Joel gives your face a small squeeze. "Deal."

A few hours later, as Joel continues on working on the roof over your bedroom, you stick your head out of your window, calling out to him. "Joel? The news said that a lightning storm is going to be rolling in soon. I think it's time you should head out-"

Joel stops hammering a shingle, steadying himself as he peers at you from the roof. "I just have a few more shingles to go-"

Your eyes narrow in irritation. "Joel, no. Get your ass off of the roof this instant!"

"Baby-" he breathes, kicking himself for letting the endearment he calls you in his dreams from leaving his lips. "I can't afford to lose this job, your dad is already pissed as it is-"

Your face contorts into something resembling sadness, and if he focuses on your face hard enough, he swears he sees the tears forming on the corner of your eyes. If it were a different time, in a different place, where Sarah's mother's body replaced yours, he would imagine he wouldn't even be having this conversation, having been forced to brave worse conditions before.

"How am I going to expect to survive if you don't go into work?" she would spit, shaking her head and glaring at him as Sarah wails in her booster seat at the table in the background. "It's bad enough that you basically trapped me, do you need to be here to make sure I stay? What's a little lighting storm gonna do to you, huh Joel? We need to eat!"

"Trapped you?!" he replies angrily, his hands clenching, knuckles white. "I didn't force you to stay, it's not like you're happy to be here!" He motions over to Sarah, his eyes narrowing. "Our daughter is crying out for you and you can't even be assed to comfort her!"

"I don't want to do this right now, just go Joel. You think about your attitude while you work in the storm!" she shouts, harshly grabbing Sarah from her seat and slamming their bedroom door.

It was her cruelty and selfishness that turned Joel off from dating and finding someone else, the weight of her absence proving to be a heavy burden on him as a single father once their divorce was finalized. Sure, there were women, attractions, and occasional one-night stands, but nothing more than that. Joel could count on one hand just how many women, in the last twenty years, had stayed the night, and to be completely honest with himself, it didn't bother him in the least. He had Sarah to raise and raise right, a wayward, careless brother he had to bail out of jail when he drank just a little too much, and a business to run. He didn't have time for casual, and he didn't have the desire for anything long term. Things were going great, even if his business was barely off of the ground and he was starting to slowly swim into the depths of debt. He didn't need to add anyone else into the equation.

And then you came along.

... with your fucking smile and your bright eyes and the way that you laugh - with your entire body - as he cracks a dad joke so bad he could feel Sarah cringing all the way from her college dorm room. How instead of living your life and being a twenty-something doing something fun with friends, you would rather spend your time with him, sitting on the edge of your windowsil asking him about anything and everything, genuninely interested in what he had to say. How you would bravely climb up his ladder even if you shared that you're afraid of heights to pass him a water bottle, concerned about potential heat stroke. He wasn't used to anyone besides Sarah or Tommy fretting over him, he wasn't prepared to be completely overwhelmed by your sudden presence in his life. He wasn't looking for anyone, and yet-

You took his breath away like a hurricane, and he finds himself ready to be swept away by you and you alone.

"Joel!" you shout suddenly from below him, your foot already on his ladder as you brace yourself, the tears flowing freely down the slopes of your cheeks. "Please, Joel, just come down! It isn't funny anymore!"

"Sugar! just stay down there, let me just finish, it'll only be five more-"

"NO!" you scream, the sight of your tears making him halt in place. "Stop FUCKING AROUND, JOEL!" you cry, shaking your head in defiance.

Joel drops his hammer and quickly jumps on the ladder, skipping a rung as he hurriedly makes his way to you. "I'm coming baby, just hold on!" he yells as he descends, the need of your body in his arms too strong to deny.

"You fucking idiot!" you shout, practically barreling into him as his feet touch the ground. His arms instinctively wrap around your shaking form, your small fists beating on his chest as you sob into it, your tears soaking flannel. "What were you thinking, risking your life like that? No one is worth you risking your life for some fucking roof!"

Joel cradles your head as he places a soft kiss on your hair, his hand rubbing your back as he tries to settle you.

"You're wrong, you know" he whispers, his eyes closing as he tightens his hold on you harder. "There is someone risking my life for," he breathes, his mind coming into a realization.

I fucking love you, Sugar, he thinks, biting his tongue from saying it out loud as he loses himself in your embrace, wishing that the moment would never end. I can die right here and die a happy man, he muses. Just as long as I get to hold you like this.

One day, he thinks. One day I'll be able to tell you this out loud.

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randomshyperson · 9 months

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Messy Hearts - [HS Challenge]

Summary: When your unhealthy habits grow out of control, your girlfriend finally brings you an ultimatum. [Requested]

Warnings: angst with a hopeful ending, explicit mentions of unhealthy coping mechanisms, depression and grieving, end of an established relationship, innuendos at the end but nothing explicit | Words: 1.709k

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 | Holiday Season Masterlist

-&-

A deal is a deal.

So when Wanda arrives home from an exhausting 12-hour mission only to find that you've barely moved from the same place she said goodbye to when she left, there's a broken agreement and irritation exploding in her chest.

The room is dark and stuffy and you haven't even noticed her yet. Completely focused on the electronic game in front of you, which seems to be in full swing judging by the commands you give into the microphone and the rapid movement of your fingers on the controller.

Wanda pulls the curtains open and you squirm like a vampire.

"Jesus Christ, what... Wanda!" But your complaint is completely ignored - your girlfriend makes a simple movement with her fingers and all the wires are disconnected at once, scarlet sparks vanishing into thin air for a moment. With the screen black and the connection interrupted, you let out an indignant exclamation and get to your feet. "W-what? Why?"

She crosses her arms. "Are you serious? Do you even dare to ask? Did you at least drink any water in the last few hours?"

With an indignant grumble, you threw the controller down on the table and glared at her, ignoring her question as you rebutted; "That's so disrespectful of you! I was ranking and now I have to start all over again-"

"Oh, but you won't!" she interrupted in the same tone. "Go eat something and take a shower. We've been over this, Y/N! We have an agreement-"

You huffed, turning your back on her. Wanda saw red and followed you at a brisk pace across the room to the bathroom.

"I don't want to talk to you, just leave." You retorted with your back turned, but as you tried to open the bathroom door, the handle remained stuck and you only had the choice of facing the angry witch behind you.

"Are you really going to act like I'm the wrong one here? After you've been playing non-stop for 12 hours?"

With an annoyed sigh, you cross your arms defensively. "That's not your problem, you're my girlfriend, not my mother."

"Wow." She raises her hands in a defeated but hurt look and you flinch.

"Wanda, I didn't mean to-"

"No, do whatever you want." She interrupts you, pulling away when you try to touch her. "I'm tired of this. I'm tired of taking care of you when you clearly want to carry on with this self-destructive lifestyle bullshit you decide for yourself." She turns around suddenly, only to throw the golden ring in your face. You catch the item just before it slips to the floor, and Wanda storms out of the room.

Instead of heading for the bathroom, you return to your chair with an irritated sigh.

Less than ten minutes later, you're back online and the voices of Kate Bishop and Peter Parker are asking you about your sudden disappearance.

"Wanda dumped me again." You comment, that despite holding the control stick, your fingers were twirling the matching ring.

Kate is the first to speak: "Do you want to know my opinion on the matter or are you going to be grumpy if we take Wanda's side?"

You chuckle briefly, trying to control the urge to cry. No matter how many times this happens, it hurts just the same each one.

"Shoot, Bishop." You grumble.

Your longtime friend pauses as if gathering her courage to speak. "We love you because you're our best friend and all, but honey, Wanda is doing holy work here." Kate comments. "If I had to babysit my girl to make sure Yelena was functioning like a human being, I'd have severe stress problems. But I think I'd do it anyway because I love her and she can always count on me. You know what I'm trying to say, right? Wanda works as a superhero full time and when she should have some peace, she still has to monitor whether her girlfriend is eating. It's not an easy situation, and I think you should try harder for that girl."

You sighed. "Wow, Kate, you've really made your point now."

"I love you but you needed to hear this."

Peter murmurs in agreement before adding: "We're here for you, always. Just sort things out with your girl first."

You left the ring on the table, and thanked the other two, muttering that you'd take care of everything before turning off the computer.

But Wanda needed some time to let off steam, so instead of looking for her now, you stopped resisting the urge to sleep.

-&-

The two of you have been through worse. Wanda knew this, just as she knew that there was no place for anyone else in her heart, not really, not in the same way.

You were undeniably the most important person in her life. Her best friend, her teammate. The person who helped her deal with the loss of Pietro, and the person who has stood by her side without hesitation ever since.

But while you pulled Wanda out of self-destructive grief with surreal ease to create warm moments that made her hopeful again, Wanda failed to do the same for you.

Because your sister Natasha was gone, along with half of the Original Avengers, and with them, a part of you was buried too.

Even if the Tower remained standing, and the compound and the Team, now bearing the title of Young Avengers, had been rebuilt, part of you didn't stand up with them.

And Wanda has tried everything, between the exhausting routine of being one of the few Avengers still active, she kept trying to get you out of your room, feed you, and make sure you didn't join Natasha of your own free will.

It was difficult, but for you, Wanda didn't hesitate to do it at any time.

And yet, perhaps because Thanos stole five years off your maturity, you were still fighting like teenagers. Arguing and throwing rings even though in your hearts, the will was to go on forever.

Wanda couldn't relax after the discussion. She only slept because she was exhausted from work, and was lucky enough to be dismissed the next day. Perhaps Sam already knew about the break-up, she imagined so, from the way he looked at her when he commented that he was going to rearrange the demands among the others.

Then Wanda retired to her own room with a breakfast tray that she barely touched.

A knock during the fifth episode of the sitcom she chose to watch to distract herself made Wanda look at the door. She wasn't surprised to see you, but she was certainly pleased to realize that you had just stepped out of the shower, and were also carrying a tray with enough lunch for the two of you.

"Hey."

Wanda could be resentful too. Stubborn. She just grumbled back, without smiling. You didn't mind, closing the door with your foot and moving slowly across the room. You left the tray on one of the tables and approached the bed.

"Can we talk?" You ventured. Wanda sighed, without taking her attention away from the TV show.

"I'm listening."

You smiled briefly, putting your hands in your pockets. You continued to stand in the room, even though your (ex) girlfriend was pretending you weren't there.

"I spoke to Bucky earlier today." You begin. "I got his therapist's phone number, I'll start next week." Wanda looks at you in surprise, but you sigh heavily and look away. "I did what you asked too. Shower and food. And I put my computer and video game away in their boxes."

"You didn't have to." She interrupts, but you chuckle sadly.

"I did." You insist. "And there's something else. Something you're not going to like."

Wanda frowned, turning her body completely towards you. The forgotten TV show next to her.

You swallowed dryly before taking courage. "I'm in a really bad place right now, and I... don't want to take you with me." You say. "So I think, at least until I feel better, this time it's going to be serious. This time, we... should stay apart."

Wanda could feel her throat closing with the urge to cry. She could see the tears in your eyes too. But she also knew that everything you said was true and that you meant it.

So all she could do was sigh and get up to go towards you, to wrap her arms around your shoulders. "I love you." She whispered as you slipped your arms around her. "I'll always love you."

"I'm sorry for being rude and mean last night-"

"Shh, it's okay." She hugs you tighter, tightening her embrace. Why did it seem like forever since she'd hugged you like this? This was so incredible. "Now say it back, please."

You chuckle shyly but nod. "I love you, Wanda Maximoff."

She broke down to smile at you. "And don't you forget." She warns in a casual tone, sharing a short chuckle with you.

Still holding her, you rest your foreheads on hers and rub your noses together affectionately. "I never want to be away from you." You confess with a sigh, and Wanda sniffles softly.

With a tearful voice, she nods. "The feeling is incredibly mutual, darling. Even when you're being a total pain in the ass." Wanda is trying to joke because you're hurting and she loves you and wants you to get real help and not feel so serious about the break-up. This is temporary. You'll get better, and she'll marry you one day like she always dreamed she would.

But you don't laugh, instead, you put a gentle distance between your faces. Wanda almost thinks it's a new argument brewing, but when she meets your gaze, she understands that it's something else.

The tension in the room emerges with the blink of your dilated irises.

"My therapy doesn't start until next week." You comment. "We don't need to be apart right now..."

"You're such a dork." She snorts back an incredulous laugh, before grabbing your shirt collar. "Who says we can't have sex without commitment?"

"Jesus." You reply in the same playful tone, muffling Wanda's laughter with your mouth.

Yeah, you both missed that.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff fics #marvel fics #holiday season fics

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manicpixiefelix · 2 months

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 25.

Summary: Oliver, Farleigh, and matters of pride.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: non-graphic smut, implied noncon (the Oliver/Farleigh scene), manipulation.

A/N: 3085 words. i really didn't mean for this to be ANOTHER chapter about the henrys dinner however i thought it was important to get an Oliver POV regarding everything that happens between him and farleigh. this was meant to be longer and extend over several more days but i think i'd rather we follow reader for the fallout.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

You've been off all night. Oliver can tell you're trying to hide it, trying to mask your feelings with drinks and the company of the Catton siblings, but he's not blind to you, he never has been. Occasionally, from where he'd been observing the three of you, he sees your gaze land on Farleigh, sees the barest crease of your brow that everyone else seems to miss, and the way you always looked away. Never more than a moment spent on the likes of Farleigh Start.

The same man you seemed to otherwise have all the time in the world for.

Something had happened, something he wasn't privy to, something that occurred in the time you and Farleigh were outside, and Oliver was otherwise occupied with Felix's kindness and attention.

While Oliver never wanted to see you upset, there was a quiet triumph in his chest upon witnessing the disconnect between yourself and Farleigh. Farleigh had tried to drive a wedge in your relationship with Oliver, but it seems as though it had backfired, despite you still believing him over Oliver's attempt at manipulating the truth. Small victories, Oliver thinks to himself.

Perhaps it was overconfidence that lead him to his seat beside Farleigh later that evening. Feeling tipsy and vindictive with his own conversation with you still playing on repeat in his mind, he humours Farleigh's game of 'Fuck, Chuck, or Marry' with the portraits, lets him press against Oliver's side as he murmurs almost knowingly about Richard III's insecurities would lead him to work harder in bed. Every word Farleigh has ever spoken to him after their very first meeting has always been so clearly deliberate and insidious; Oliver's wondering if he's projecting here, while trying once more to psych Oliver out.

But if Farleigh wants to play games, Oliver wants to win.

"Or you could just fuck me?" He offers, voice low, turning from the stern-faced portraits to Farleigh himself after a moment. Farleigh is rather beautiful when drunk in his own right and caught off-guard. There's something so deliciously tempting in his big, brown eyes, something suddenly dangerous about how close this beautiful boy was sitting in this moment. But he could never trust Farleigh's intentions, especially not now.

And clearly Farleigh didn't trust his either. Clever boy. Too clever for his own good.

"Why'd you tell Y/N about me and Venetia?" He asks plainly. Watching Farleigh's mind try to come up with a justification was fascinating; it seems even he knows that Oliver won't believe whatever lie he comes up with.

"Well, I didn't think they'd react that badly -"

"Yes, you did," Oliver cuts him off without a second of hesitation, and already Farleigh's lips are twisting into an amused smile, but Oliver's not done, "you knew they'd run right to Felix about it too, didn't you?"

"Of course I did," the look in Farleigh's eyes is far meaner than his sly smile, something unexpectedly sharp there. A nerve struck; what had you and he said to each other earlier? But Oliver keeps his façade up, lets his face drop; if Farleigh reads guilt in his disappointment, that's on him. For a moment, just a single moment, he thinks he can see a flicker of apology cross Farleigh's delicate features as Oliver sighs softly. His gaze drops.

"You know, if you ever wanna talk to anyone, you can talk to me, Farleigh," he offers softly, expression open and honest as he once more meets Farleigh's gaze. An imitation of an olive branch.

"What do you mean?" There it is, that distrustful look that Oliver had expected. Farleigh's well aware of how observant Oliver is, it wouldn't be a stretch for him to figure out he'd picked up on the tension between you and him, the wedge between supposed best friends. Oliver lets the unspoken implications alone apply pressure to that wedge for just a moment before he changes tact in his continued effort to disarm this man.

"Well, I know you're going through a hard time at home, I know how that feels," Oliver allows himself to be read as vulnerable in this moment, "when things are so precarious," he sighs deeply, gaze wandering as if lost in thought, and not carefully catalogues each minute change in Farleigh's expression, "it's terrifying... and lonely," and he meets Farleigh's almost disbelieving gaze. Farleigh was not so easily lead, it seemed, but the challenge of him is almost thrilling, "and it must be so fucking weird feeling like you have to ask them for everything," and your words about Farleigh's pride echo through Oliver's mind as he drops his gaze, "I know how demeaning it can feel."

A spark of recognition in Farleigh's eyes, something surprised and just a little pained for reasons even beyond Oliver, before they settle into something that almost looks like regret.

"And I know you fuckin' hate me -" Oliver starts, but suddenly the regret is no longer just in Farleigh's eyes, his whole expression softening for just a moment as he tries to deny it.

"I... I don't hate you," his voice is uncharacteristically sincere, as is the look in his eyes. Perfect. This is exactly where Oliver wants him. Despite his better instincts, Oliver wants to forge this connection, wants this common ground, needs Farleigh on side. Both of them love you and Felix; they're going to be in each other's lives whether they like it or not, and Oliver's fucking sick of fighting Farleigh on that at every turn.

"But," Oliver lets his tone soften to something sincere, as if to appreciate the admission before attempting to double down on this fragile moment of connection, "if you ever wanted me to talk to them to see if there's..." he sighs, searching for the right words to appear as earnest as he's able, "if I can help in any way..." Farleigh's too proud to ever ask, so Oliver knows he can't do any more than imply he should do as much. Instead, he adds, "even Y/N," for good measure.

Something shifts in Farleigh's expression, a hint of skepticism.

"Even Y/N?" But his tone is strange, unreadable, gaze still boring into Oliver's.

"I know they're too proud to offer," Oliver tells him with the faintest notes of sadness, "too afraid of sounding like their mum, but they love you," he watches the way pain momentarily flickers in Farleigh's eyes, "I can talk to them too."

He hopes Farleigh can hear the intention in his words; they all love you, so I'm willing to do right by you.

After a beat, Farleigh laughs softly, finally tearing his gaze from Oliver, the movement of his head too quick for Oliver to read his reaction properly. Alas, the moment is broken, Farleigh is standing, and Oliver just hopes his words have had their intended effect. At the very least, he's sure he's subtly needled Farleigh's insecurities enough for him to reconsider his ongoing cruelty towards Oliver.

Except in the next few moments, it's made clear that he'd pushed him too far. He doesn't trust the look in Farleigh's eyes as he's pulling Oliver up to sing whatever song he's chosen, but Oliver reluctantly goes along with it. There's alarm bells in the back of his head as he plays along, wanting to believe that this isn't some kind of trap, that this is really Farleigh trying to connect with him in some way.

Nervous with microphone in hand, he scans the room as the song's opening plays. The tightness in his chest eases when he spots Felix in the corner of the room by the bar cart with you and Venetia, smiling at him warmly, encouragingly. But only after he begins to sing does his gaze focus upon you, and his blood runs cold. Amid the cheering of the Catton siblings beside you, and the others around the room, you're not looking at Oliver, you're looking at Farleigh, and you're fucking furious.

But the song's begun now, even if he's not entirely listening to the lyrics, he can't stop in front of all these people, can he? But his attention turns back to the little screen and he reads the words as he sings, voice faltering -

"I love you-" oh. Farleigh really fucking hated him, "you pay my rent."

Farleigh cheers obnoxiously from the side of the room, and Oliver actually sees you make a start to move towards him, but Felix holds you back. The sight of your furious indignation on his behalf does little to ease the shame and embarrassment that flares up in him in this moment. All he can think to do is spitefully insist that Farleigh finish the song, that it's his song too after all, but Farleigh's high on the victory and completely without shame as he accepts his place in the spotlight.

All Oliver wants to do is just disappear, hot, angry tears pricking his eyes as he absconds through the nearest door. He needs to get out of this suffocating house, away from these entitled assholes, he needs fresh air -

"Ollie, mate -" he couldn't even hear Felix's footsteps running to catch up with him, only hearing him when his hand is on Oliver's shoulder, "that was fucked -"

"It's fine, Felix," Oliver tries to insist, even as Felix turns him around to face him.

"It's not fine, it was fucking cruel is what it was," Felix holds him steady by the shoulders, but Oliver just hangs his head. There's no way he's letting Felix see him cry over this, especially after he'd just bore witness to Farleigh's thorough public humiliation of him.

"I'll be fine, really, I just need some air and some space," Oliver reiterates, trying to step back. Felix lets him go; Oliver can almost picture his crestfallen look, but still doesn't have the nerve to look up.

"Ollie," Felix's voice is so soft, so apologetic. Oliver wants nothing more than to hold him tightly, hear him reassure that Farleigh was being a cunt and that no-one thinks of him like that, even if Oliver knows that it's not true, that you and Felix are the only ones that see him as anything more than just a pretty, little charity case. Felix would believe himself, though; he was far too earnest for the rest of his family half the time. It's one of the countless things he's come to love about Felix.

He takes another step back.

"I just need to be alone for a bit," Oliver's voice softens, fighting back the urge to sniffle, "I'll be fine, Felix, I promise."

"Will you come find me later? Please?"

Oliver has no idea what he's going to do in the next five minutes let alone beyond that. But he nods.

"Maybe," is what he says, "I promise I'll be okay; if I don't see you tonight, we'll still hang out tomorrow."

"Okay," Felix sounds almost disappointed, before he sighs deeply. His concern is quickly turning back to irritation as his thoughts seem to be returning to his cousin, "you know I love you, mate."

"I know," Oliver agrees, "love you too, Felix," and he walks away, because he knows Felix would wait in this moment forever if Oliver let him, unable to properly leave his clearly upset friend even if dismissed. A loyal dog in his own right when he wanted to be.

Sitting in the garden, Oliver's sense of shame crystalises into fury with each deep breath he takes. The absolute audacity of Farleigh to do that to him, and after all the trouble he's been causing you and Felix lately! Prideful prick.

So certain of his place in their lives, Oliver knew the only thing that would ever really matter to Farleigh is losing it. The cruelty was almost predictable at this point, Oliver's actually foolish to have not seen it coming. Oliver feels as though he should never have believed you for the supposed kindness you saw in Farleigh; like Felix you were too loving, too permissive for your own good sometimes. Honestly, Farleigh didn't even deserve your kindness, he thought ruefully.

Oliver couldn't say he hadn't at least tried diplomacy.

After the house had grown quiet and he was sure he wouldn't run into anyone, aside from that uncanny butler, though he seemed incredibly adept at ignoring the strangeness of Saltburn's youth, Oliver heads back to his room. The sound of Felix's door opening makes him start, and he ducks in quickly, closing the door over to avoid whoever it was who was leaving. He knew he was too full of rage to face yours or Felix's kindness in this moment. However, he's surprised to hear Venetia humming to herself, and to see her wearing your navy robe as she trots down the hall towards her own room. Not a second later, Oliver hears the shower on in the adjoining bathroom, and he closes the door, confused, wondering where Felix could have gotten to at the end of the night.

But considering Venetia only made his rage and guilt grow stronger in his gut. Another person who took you for granted, another person who felt entitled to your affection. As much as he tried, he couldn't get to sleep, and his eyes land on the dark shape of the book by his bedside. Saltburn: The Art of Saltburn House, The Catton Collection. It had been left undoubtably by you near the beginning of his stay, and had helped him ingratiate himself to Felix's father as he took an interest in the antiquities Farleigh had simply sneered at. The antiquities Oliver knew the exorbitant value of, and how much that money could theoretically mean to Farleigh, and a plan began to form.

Farleigh would never let him live this night down, Farleigh would never let him live this life with you both that Oliver craved so desperately. Farleigh would never let him live in peace, if he could help it. So Farleigh couldn't be allowed to live here.

Oliver is quick to find his way to Farleigh's room, stalking as quietly as he's able through the grand halls with furious intent. Each time he'd sought it out, you'd always been with Farleigh on the other side, lavishing the bastard with undeserved attention and pleasure. Sinking down, Oliver peers through the keyhole as he'd done time and again, but there's no silhouette of you against the night sky beyond Farleigh's window, just the man himself sleeping soundly.

Unlike you, Oliver does not know Saltburn well enough to slip through it silently, but Farleigh doesn't stir when the door creaks. Farleigh is beautiful and terrible, even as he sleeps.

Oliver had tried to play nice, Farleigh had left him no choice. He would take Farleigh's pride, and his precious place in this house whether he liked it or not.

It's almost disappointing how little of a challenge Farleigh poses. It's almost too easy to break him, to make him submit, to make him obedient. Despite the fact that he'd watched you do it, he hadn't realised how desperate Farleigh was to be under someone's thumb in moments like this, how quickly his resolve would crumble. Oh there's anger, there's push back, but it's a token effort at best. He snarls as Oliver rides him, digging his nails into Oliver's thighs hard enough to draw blood, but he still cums.

"You're fucking sick," he spits breathlessly, but he still has a hand on Oliver's cock, still let's Oliver's cum splatter across his chest without complaint before he shoves him off to clean himself off.

Are you going to behave? He must have Oliver's soft orders playing on repeat in his mind, because he doesn't even complain when he sees Oliver sitting on his bed when he gets back. His scowl is to be expected, but Oliver knows this is his victory, and that it won't be the last for tonight, as he'd already found Farleigh's phone on the windowsill. Opening the curtains, Farleigh cracks open the window before he lights a cigarette.

"You don't fucking love them," Farleigh doesn't even look at him, barking a soft, humourless laugh. Oliver freezes, his expression hard as he looks to Farleigh; his victory feels short-lived as the anger quickly returns at the accusation, "I told them you were just going to use them, and break their fucking hearts, and I was right."

"Watch yourself, Farleigh," Oliver warns sharply, voice low and dangerous.

"And the fucked up part is that if you were honest, they would have let you," Farleigh continues, sounding almost disgusted; with himself, with you and Felix, with Oliver, with the whole situation, "but now they think they're in love, and I just have to watch them crash and burn because of you," taking a long draft of his cigarette, he holds the smoke in his lungs before it spills out around his words, lip curling in derision, "you're a fucking black hole, Oliver."

Oliver watches him finish his smoke and close the window, drawing the blinds once again. He doesn't look at Oliver. He doesn't ask him to leave. He doesn't get it, so he's done with you all; he's broken, he behaves.

"Good night, Farleigh," Oliver says flatly as Farleigh stretches out on the bed beside him, on his side, back to Oliver.

"For the record," Farleigh bites out quietly, "I do hate you." As if it wasn't abundantly clear already. But Oliver remains quiet, despite the absolute outrage Farleigh's words had sparked inside him.

Everything he was doing, he did because he loved you and Felix. Everything.

Laying still and quiet beside Farleigh, he gazes up at the roof, trying to keep his breathing even, listening to Farleigh's own as it grew slow and deep, and Oliver was sure he was asleep. Giving it just a bit more time to make sure, he sits up carefully, making sure not to jostle Farleigh in the slightest, before he reaches for the phone on the windowsill.

Farleigh didn't understand you and Felix, and he certainly didn't deserve any ounce of your attention. Farleigh was a self-serving, entitled creature fuelled by spite and pride; he'd set this house on fire if it would keep him warm, Oliver's sure. So he enacts his plan, sends the email that would spell Farleigh's ruin, and deletes all trace of it from the man's phone before he puts it back where he found it.

And he leaves as quietly as he'd arrived.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #oliver quick x reader #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick x you #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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pedgito · 2 years

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𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 ⛧ 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞!𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: summer of 96’, fresh off the anniversary of the tragedy that took place on year ago—you and your friend are ready to enjoy your last few days of freedom and fun, but someone has other plans in mind and everyone is fair game.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), obviously a dark fic (pls read with caution), gore, major/minor character death, mentions of blood/stabbing, background stancy, robin being heartbroken but woke as always, established friendship between reader and eddie, smoking (weed), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (with some bordering coercive themes, reader is aware and in full control of her choices), knife play, mention of creepy staff member preying on young girls, slight cliffhanger (if you squint), this is exactly what you expect it to be and i’m probably missing some tags, so just lmk.

word count: 15k

Dread filled the summer of 95’, fresh off the killings of some of Hawkins' beloved students; it was a tragedy that affected the entire town, everyone mourning together in unity. The killings should’ve ended there, but that was just the beginning.

The masked assailant plunged the knife into the chest of his eleventh victim, sweet Tammy Thompson who pleaded for her life—she screamed, fought until the very last second, but she wasn’t a match for the brute strength and force of the person who caught her, adding a sharp twist of the knife as blooded pooled from her mouth, the light leaving her eyes. It was supposed to be a fun trip; everyone’s last hoorah before they parted ways after graduation, instead, it turned into a bloodbath. The killer was never caught, all that was left behind; a mask, stark white and horrifying as its mouth stretched on for miles—it was engraved in everyone’s mind, until it wasn’t. Just a faded distant memory of summer that ended badly.

Enter summer of 96’, a fresh faced group of seniors on the precipice of one of the most monumental trips in their lives to date—it was senior tradition, everyone disconnected for a weekend and lived in the moment, even despite the dark cloud that still lingered over.

“I don’t understand why Principal Higgins needs to go,” Eddie says amongst the large group of seniors, voicing everyone’s thoughts, never scared to be the one to point out the blatantly obvious, “doesn’t that defeat the point of having fun?”

“Mr. Munson,” Higgins' voice boomed from the front of the room, “do I need to remind you how lucky you are to even be allowed on this trip with your grades and attendance record?”

Eddie slumped back in his seat slightly, earning a few laughs from the basketball team huddled in the corner of the room, namely Jason Carver, resident Hawkins High asshole. And yes, the trip was planned and chauffeured by the school—it was more affordable that way and it was meant to make people feel safer, though it sucked the fun out the entire thing.

“No alcohol, no sex, and I don’t want to catch any of you young men spying on any of these ladies—“ Higgins explained, the other two designated teachers to be joining nodded beside him, mimicking his weak attempt at scolding, “but that goes both ways. If I catch any of you up to no good, I’m sending you home immediately.”

Steve raised his hand impatiently, a small acknowledgment from Higgins was sent his way, “Are we allowed to drive ourselves? Or do we have to ride on the bus?”

“Everyone’s required to be on the bus, we need to make sure everyone is accounted for.” Well, it seemed logical enough and you couldn’t really argue against it.

Principal Higgins passed out a stack of papers, a long list of necessary supplies to bring along—bug spray, sanitary items, blankets and pillow, nothing out of the ordinary—you’re hyper focused on the page in front of you, unaware of Eddie’s insistent poking at your ribs until he’s plucking the paper from in front of you.

“Eddie,” You say with annoyance, “give it back.”

He smiles wide, still dangling the paper a few feet out of reach, “Whaddya say, sweetheart—should I sneak in the—,” Eddie makes a quick motion to his mouth, lighting up a fake joint, “—or are you on your good girl behavior this weekend?”

You flip him off, forcefully snatching the paper from his tight grip. Still, you weren’t going to pass up that opportunity. “Stop calling me that—,” You insist, lower your voice to a level only he could hear, “—but yeah, you should.”

Eddie chuckles at that, kicking his feet up on the empty chair beside him, ringed fingers drumming against the table. “Higgins is such a creep,” Eddie points out, aiming his voice toward the small group of people at your table—you, Steve, Nancy, Robin, and a few other seniors you didn’t know too well, they didn’t really pay much mind anyways, “like he isn’t going to be staring at all the girls in their swimsuits the entire time.”

“Like that time he got caught staring up Chrissy Cunnigham’s skirt when she was at the top of the pyramid.” Steve pointed out with a boisterous laugh, earning a soft nudge of warning from Nancy.

“Cut it out.” She warns, “She didn’t deserve that.”

“I don’t even know why we’re going back,” Robin points out, “people died.”

She was still partially traumatized after Tammy—unrequited love and all, she knew it would never be reciprocated but her death still affected Robin more than she cared to admit.

“They caught the guy, though.” Steve pointed out, “Don’t you remember?”

“You really think a poor, homeless man was capable of all that?” Nancy challenged, staring Steve down with a scrutinizing gaze. Eddie snickered from his seat—neither of you wanted to be on the receiving end of that.

“Anyone’s capable of anything with the right motive.” Steve shrugs.

“Stop trying to sound all philosophical and sign the fuckin’ clipboard, Harrington.” Eddie interrupts, scribbling down his name—and your own, before tossing it to his friend.

It was already filled with about fifty names; not everyone had been interested in the trip and some didn’t even entertain the idea to begin with, but Eddie was a master manipulator and great at convincing people—take you and Robin for example, who had been so on the fence about going that it took every ounce of begging from Eddie to get you both to agrees—on his knees, hands clasped tightly together, praying and pleading for you both you.

“Don’t subject me to third wheeling Nancy and Steve,” Eddie had begged, “I will literally never forgive you guys.”

It didn’t take much convincing after that, plus Eddie had barely managed to make it on the list for the trip and the last thing you wanted to do was let him have a horrible senior trip, not when he’s done just about everything to help you manage through this year—friendship and all, outside of your core group of friends, he was the closest to you.

It wasn’t like you spent every waking moment together, but it was just about. He’s never made you feel uncomfortable or unwanted, always just the right amount gentlemanliness mixed with his own dumb charm, it was addicting. He always knew just the right things to say, when to make you laugh, and how to soothe you when you were upset—he’d never made it clear if he ever wanted anything more with you and that was fine, but you couldn’t help letting it break your heart just a little. Eddie was the perfect type of guy.

“So—graduation is tomorrow, we leave that next day—Friday, bright and early,” Higgins' voice cut through the chatter, “Eight in the morning, on time—right, Edward?”

“Eight in the morning—got it.” Eddie replied with a low amount of snark, glancing over at your smiling face, struggling to hide the small crinkle of your eyes as you tried not to laugh. “What a dick.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t bring a swimsuit to swim,” You say jokingly, knowing how creepy everyone thought principal Higgins was, Eddie stared at you with a puzzled expression, eyebrows drawn together, “what—I just wouldn’t swim at all, it’s not a big deal.”

“You’re swimming, sweetheart.” Eddie says decisively, “I’ll look out for you, don’t worry.”

And if there was anything to put your mind at ease, it was Eddie.

Eddie answers the door to his trailer with a loud groan and a curse, already pissed at you for waking him up so early. Wayne is trailing up the stairs behind you, having barely gotten off of his night shift, coffee and empty lunchbox in hand.

“Open the damn door for the lady,” Wayne complains, motioning toward the handle, “—do you have your shit ready?”

“Yes—god, yes,” Eddie complains, swinging the door open and rubbing his tired eyes, “the sun isn’t even out and you two are already bitching at me this morning.” Eddie stumbles off, still muttering to himself.

“Keep an eye out for him,” Wayne says to you quietly, following in behind you as you step through the threshold, “I know it’s like babysitting with him sometimes.”

You nod obediently, offering a warm smile.

“Trust me—I’m well aware. He’ll be okay with me.”

“You two are still talking shit about me?”

Eddie walks out of the hallway leading to his bedroom, backpack slung over his shoulders, large duffel clutched in his hands. You would’ve thought he was going on a week-long retreat—but it was Eddie, he was probably planning to sneak his entire bedroom into the cabin for the weekend.

“Yep.” You answer simply, lifting yourself up on the counter as you waited, allowing Eddie to say a quick goodbye to his uncle.

“Where the hell are your bags?” Eddie asks, taking a full body glance at you. You wore a simple pair of cotton shorts and a dated band shirt that once belonged to Eddie—before you stole it, but not a bag in sight.

“Out by your van,” You motion with your thumb in the direction of his vehicle, parked out front, “—are you ready to go?”

“Let’s get this show on the road.” Eddie says with a rambunctious enthusiasm that could only be contained within him, all of his early grogginess suddenly disappearing before your eyes.

Eddie makes the rounds for the rest of your friends—first Robin, who looks about as excited as Eddie did when you showed up at his trailer this morning, tossing her bag into the row of seats behind the front two, crawling in to lay her head down against the makeshift pillow.

“Tell Steve and Nance the seats are occupied.” She mumbled, shifting onto her side, eyes shut. “No love birds allowed up here.”

“Surely they can’t be that lovey dovey this early,” You say out loud, earning a soft rumble of a laugh from Eddie. “What? Am I wrong?”

“I gave him a ride to school for a week—it was the worst week of my life.” Eddie said without explaining, but you caught on quickly, hearing Robin’s mocking impression of Nancy every time Steve went in to kiss her.

“Steve—Steve, stop it.” Robin squealed tiredly, mimicking Nancy’s soft giggle.

Speaking of the devil, Eddie pulled to a screeching stop in front of Steve’s lavish home, too big for someone who was an only child, a giddy Nancy in tow.

“Eddie—you really need to change your brakes.” You tell him, the screaming metal slicing together, creating an awful sound. “It’s been that way for weeks.”

“She’s still tickin’.” Eddie joked, patting the dash lovingly, the sound of Nancy and Steve clamoring into the back of the van cutting your conversation short. Eddie turns from the driver's seat, “I hope you two got that shit out of your system before we have to bunk with you both.”

“No promises.” Steve chides back, settling on the floor of the back of Eddie’s van, Nancy settled close by. Robin was already dead to the world, softly snoring away from her seat—if she had the choice to stay home, she easily would have. But, she would feel horrible leaving you behind.

You’re still the last to arrive, albeit on time, but Eddie was really hungry—hence the reason you five showed up with food, piling onto the back of the bus without so much as a word, shoveling your mouths with the food, acting like you hadn’t eaten in days.

Eddie makes a face when he sees Steve reaching for the last bit of food in the bag, like he hadn’t already eaten enough for the both of you, giving a soft shrug and an excusal, “If this is gonna be my last good meal until Monday, I’m taking advantage of it.”

“I don’t think it will be that bad.” Nancy offers, not really believing herself when she says it.

“Well, it’ll definitely be interesting.” You add, shifting into the cramped seat beside Eddie, leaning into his outstretched arm.

“Oh, that’s a guarantee.” Eddie jokes, squeezing you tighter. The bus lurching forward in time with his movement, sending you stumbling further into him.

“Woah—you okay?” He asks timidly, your hand reaching out to stop yourself from slipping out of the seat.

“The faster we get there, the better.”

It’s nearing afternoon when you finally arrive, a long winding road of trees and wildlife, not a person or structure in sight, the place was practically abandoned aside from the giant cabin near the end of town, settled on a large piece of land that houses a lake, two smaller joint cabins, and a few other structures that held supplies for outside, and a tiny outhouse—despite the cabin already having its own bathrooms.

It seemed perfect—it looked beautiful; lush green foliage and clear water, not a cloud in the sky, aside from the suffocating humidity. But, that came with the hot Indiana summers. You couldn’t imagine the tragedy that took place the year prior, or why they would decide to bring you back to the same spot, but it seemed like a completely different place—untouched, new, like someone had gone out of their way to remove that evil or any reminder of the dread.

You give Eddie a gentle nudge from where he’d fallen asleep on your shoulder, grumbling in disagreement as he lifted his head, eyes riddled with exhaustion.

“How late did you stay up last night?” You asked, the palm of his hand coming up to rub at his eyes.

“One—maybe two.” Eddie shrugs, “I couldn’t sleep.”

“I’m sorry.” You frown, feeling slightly empathetic,

“Not your fault,” He shrugs, “I had a lot on my mind.”

And you don’t push, because despite how close you are with Eddie, he doesn’t open up as easily as most people—you knew enough about him that it didn’t seem strange, everything that friends would normally know, but he never talked about his past or his parents or how he was raised prior to Wayne. It was all a big mystery.

When you do finally make it off the bus, it’s met with a sigh of relief and a giant breath of fresh air, despite the sweltering heat—you could live with that, it felt good to be able to stretch your legs again.

You can sense the slight amount of uneasiness lingering in the air, between the students, between your friends, like you’re waiting for someone to say something or address the elephant in the room. Principal Higgins, of course, speaks first.

“I’ve already got rooms assigned on the chart,” He points at the piece of paper clutched in his hand, “boys on the left, girls on the right—I don’t want to hear a single complaint out of anyone. I went off of everyone’s requests so there shouldn’t be any confusion.”

He takes a pause, too long to remain in a comfortable silence, before he finally speaks again.

“I realize what went down last year—but that’s not why we’re here.” He attempts to assure you all, though it doesn’t really have much effect. “That was all resolved and handled—I can promise you all, it’s going to be fine.”

“Famous last words.” Robin mumbles, arms crossed over her chest as she switches between feet, fidgeting because she can’t stay still—she’d been so confined all day that it was driving her mad.

“I don’t know,” You shrug, “it feels good right now—peaceful, you know?”

Eddie and Steve had gone to fetch the rest of the bags earlier, approaching you near the end of Principal Higgins half hearted speech, you take your bags with a smile and a wink from Eddie, who now, seems entirely too chipper. There was definitely something in the air, less of a weight on everyone's shoulders, whatever impending doom everyone had expected to feel wasn’t there at all, like it never even existed.

“Come on, Robin,” Steve says, “stop worrying.”

“Someone has to.” She defends, feeling defeated over everyone’s lack of concern. “—Whatever, give me my bags.” Steve hands them over without argument, watching as Robin stomped begrudgingly along to the cabin.

“You two should follow her,” Eddie suggests, motioning toward you and Nancy, who seemed just weary as Robin now that you all had officially arrived on the lake, “we’ll meet up in an hour?”

“Yeah,” You agreed, tightening your grip on your bag as you shifted it onto your shoulder, “come on, Nance.”

If there was anyone to cheer Robin up, it would be you—it used to be Steve and you weren’t sure you could ever compare your friendship to that, but he’s been so caught up with Nancy and Eddie lately that Robin almost didn’t feel like a part of the group anymore, and you hated that. So, if it meant abandoning Eddie for a few hours, just to make Robin happy, you’d do it.

The rooms are horribly small, also—three beds to a room, just enough space to fit your bags at the end of your beds, but that was it. There were several lined up on each side of the house, upstairs and down, with two bathrooms at each end—but, things could be worse and at least you weren’t forced into a tent like some of the others originally suggested. A weekend on a lake, sure—camping outdoors for two day? Absolutely not.

“How is everyone not freaked out?” Robin asks, laying stomach down on the rickety bed, feet kicked up behind her, face resting against her arms where they were placed against the comforter.

“I don’t think people care, really.” Nancy tells her, unfolding her clothes neatly onto her bed, double checking her bags to make sure everything was still there, “The killer was caught.”

You couldn’t explain why it felt weird to hear Nancy say it out loud—maybe because you didn’t really believe it yourself, or that it just sounded absurd to say in any scenario, but regardless, you voice your concern.

“Do you really think he was working alone?” You ask, glancing at both of your friends from where you were sitting cross-legged on your bed. “I mean—eleven people, that’s…it’s a lot.”

“Where’s this coming from?” Robin asked curiously, “Don’t try to freak me out anymore than I already am—I’m leaving both of you behind if things start getting weird—I swear.”

“She watches all those weird crime things and reads up about all the crazy serial killers,” Nancy says, adding a small laugh at the end, “if there’s anyone to believe, it’s her.”

“It also just makes the most sense,” You shrug, “—I mean, maybe the person was one of the people that got killed—maybe that guy turned on him, but I don’t think it was him alone, it doesn’t add up.”

Robin seems more intrigued now, pushing herself up to sit on her knees.

“The weird phone calls, messing with their cars, managing to kill them and still hang up some of their bodies like props—I refuse to believe that one homeless man was capable of any of that.”

“We’ll, that’s definitely not comforting to hear.” Robin admits, crossing her arms over her chest tightly, glancing over at Nancy who seemed less than interested in the conversation.

“I don’t think we have anything to worry about,” You attempt to comfort her, “—plus, we’re probably the furthest down on the list of victims if it ends up being someone on this trip—Jason could clearly go down first, everyone hates him.”

“Let’s hope so.” Nancy interjects, interrupted by two solid knocks against the closed door to your room, swinging open before you can even leave the bed.

“Higgins shoved us in with Carver,” Eddie complains, glancing over at Steve sparingly, they were already dressed in their swim shorts—Steve in a muted red reaching halfway down his thighs, Eddie in a pair of plain black ones, reaching just about the knee, both with towels slung over their shoulder, “—I guess no one else wanted to room with him.”

You hummed softly, “Lucky you,” You teased, turning toward the clearly irritated men standing in your doorway, “—swimming already?”

“Yep,” Eddie nods, throwing his towel in your direction, “get changed, ladies—you know much King Steve hates to wait.” Steve scoffs tiredly, earning a deep laugh from his friend, the two of them shoving each other down the hallway as they departed.

You look at Robin, who seems dead set on staying out, “Hey, come on,” You push gently, jumping off your bed to wrap your arms over your friend’s shoulder, the side of her face squished against chest, “swimmings fun, right?”

“If I say yes will you let go?” Robin asks.

“Yes.”

“Then yeah, it sounds fun.”

Most of the afternoon and evening is spent in the lake, on the waterside or laid out on the dock, everyone soaking in as much of the sun and quiet as they can, reveling in the last couple of days of peace before they’re thrusted back into reality—forced off to colleges and filling out job applications.

By nightfall, after dinner in the cabin, you and Eddie decided to take one last dip into the water, away from the rest of the group. The rest of your friends stayed by the dock, engaging in mindless conversation.

Eddie dunks you under the water immediately, surfacing seconds later to throw water back in his face. “What the hell, Eddie?” You ask, “A warning would be nice?”

“Live a little, sweetheart.” Eddie says endearingly, wiping the hair out of your face that stuck to your cheek, you freeze momentarily, eyes glued to his face, his expression mostly plain. He notices you watching, “Something on my face?”

“No,” You respond softly, “I’m just—are you not thinking about any of the stuff that happened?”

“That was last year—“ Eddie shrugs off, “Why—are you scared?”

It sounds teasingly, almost like he can’t believe someone like you could be so terrified over something that happened a year ago, completely disconnected from you—and the truth was, you weren’t scared.

“No, I’m not,” You tell him sternly, making yourself clear, “But, Robin is worried—I guess I’m feeling her emotions a little.”

“We’ll, she’s your friend,” Eddie points out, “it makes sense, you two are close.”

“She’s your friend, too.” You counter, face drawn up in confusion. It was a weird way to phrase himself.

“Of course,” He confirms without hesitation, “but it’s different for you—like how I probably know things about Steve that he’d be embarrassed to tell you.”

You grimace, nose scrunched up in disgust. “I don’t wanna know.”

“And what makes you think I was gonna tell you?” Eddie teases, crowding you under the water, arms encircling your waist to pull you closer, fingers digging into your side playfully. You squeal, begging him to stop. “I take secrets very seriously.”

“I hope so.” You remark, swatting him playfully when he finally lets you go.

You take his hand, tugging until he decides to follow, swimming toward the edge of the dock toward your friends, both of you perching on the edge, forearms rested against the soaked wood.

“What’s going on?” You ask Steve, who’s staring back and forth between a slightly jumpy Nancy and an uncomfortable Robin, clearly having interrupted an uncomfortable conversation.

“Robin was talking about the phone calls,” Nancy explains softly, “and all those weird questions that person was asking—“

“Yeah, but those could have been rumors.” Steve tries to defend, “We don’t really know what happened last year—we’re going off of what a bunch of teenagers told the cops.”

“You know—maybe it was Prinipal Higgins making those calls—that fuckin’ creep,” Eddie remarks jokingly, transitioning into his best impression of the man, “Mmm—What are you wearing?”

Steve joins in with a laugh, “I can see you—can you see me?”

Eddie fakes sneaking up behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he whispers, “What’s your favorite scary movie?”

You elbow him gently, shoving him away playfully. “Cut it out,” You laugh, watching Eddie’s face pull into a large grin as he leans against the dock again, hand resting lightly against your back—Eddie was as touchy as touchy could get, regardless of how close you were, he’d always been that way, “Robin is already freaked out enough.”

Robin, who’s looking more and more uncomfortable by the second, finally speaks up. “I’m going to bed,” She said excusing, “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Robin, wait—“ Steve begs quietly, grasping onto his friend’s wrist.

“I’m fine,” She promises, tugging her wrist back, “I just want to get some sleep.”

Robin departs soon after, leaving the four of you in a comfortable silence, starting out at the front of the cabin, lights flipping on and off momentarily, before a loud clattering from the side of the house grabs the attention of all of you.

“Woah—hey,” Nancy whispers urgently, “Is that Jason and Chrissy?”

“Innocent Chrissy? There’s no way.” Steve jokes, watching as the two of them wander obviously into the woods, up to no good.

Eddie laughs from your side, taking a careful glance over at Nancy who’s cuddling herself into Steve’s side, he lowers his voice where only you can hear, “Let’s give the other lovebirds some privacy,” He jerks his head at the pair, “before Higgins catches us out here and cuts the fun short.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s passed out in his cabin right now.” You assure him, pointing directly at the cabin to the far right of you, no lights, no legitimate sign of life stirring about—if there was any time to get away with murder or rule breaking, it would be now.

Eddie pulls you further away, near the edge of the water where he can grab his towel, helping you out and drying himself off before passing you his own towel, helping you wrap it around yourself snugly. “I could’ve brought my own towel down,” You point out, ignoring how his fingers lingered against your arm, “I am capable of doing things for myself.”

“I know,” Eddie smiles slightly, wet hair dripping rivulets of water down his chest, pale skin standing out against his tattoos. You’ve seen them a million times before, it doesn’t bother you, but suddenly you’re resisting the urge to reach out and touch—and that’s more terrifying than anything, “good thing we left when we did—“ Eddie motions behind you discreetly.

Steve and Nancy had already slipped into the water by that point, covered by the other side of the dock—you and Eddie weren’t voyeurs, but it wasn’t hard to make out what was going on from the several feet of distance you had between each other.

“It’s kinda hot.” Eddie says shamelessly, shrugging at your bewildered expression. “What? Don’t look at me like that.”

“Eddie,” You say in disbelief, his face splitting into a giant grin, “I’m kidding—obviously, but you really shouldn’t act so shy around me. I know all your secrets, remember?”

“Shut up.” You shove him lightly, wrist caught by his hands.

“Even the ones you haven’t told me.” He teases further, twirling you slowly until your back is pressed against his chest, hot skin burning against the exposed part of your back. You can hear the faint mix of moans from where you stood—you weren’t even sure if they knew you both were still nearby, or cared, for that matter.

“You never answered my question earlier.” Eddie points out, eyes dragging up toward him from where he stood behind you.

“I thought you were just trying to be funny.”

“Yeah—but I’m still curious.” He admits, “What is your favorite scary movie?”

You smirk knowingly, “Don’t have one,” You tell him honestly, “I prefer the real stuff.”

“Like?”

“Bundy, Dahmer, murderers and serial killers—I like learning about stuff like that, but scary movies; they just aren’t scary.”

“You’re a little freak,” Eddie responds playfully, words lighthearted, it doesn’t bother you at all, “have you always been that morbid?”

“Yes,” You admit with a soft laugh, “instead of morning cartoons I was watching the news for the latest homicide or police arrest—it freaked my parents out for a while, but I think they realized it was all harmless, eventually. I was a curious kid.”

Eddie makes a small noise of acknowledgment, the lewd noises of your friends overpowering him, your chest tightens, his arms flexing ever so slightly around your waist. You can’t find the courage to speak first, so Eddie does.

“We could join in, if you want.” He mentions nonchalantly, a playful attempt at breaking the tension. “I won’t mind.”

“Of course not, you pervert,” You wiggle away from him playfully, “Just shut up and walk me back to my room.” You tug at his hand, dragging him along with you. Eddie’s hand settles low on your waist, but you can’t be bothered to adjust it, spoiled by how easily he shows his affection toward you. Eddie didn’t need to admit the attraction he felt toward you, it was obvious—and you couldn’t say it was one-sided all the time, you were just as guilty.

“Hey—both of you,” Nancy shouts, startling you awake, “get up.”

You rub at tired eyes, sitting up abruptly in your bed. “What the hell, Nance?” Robin responds with the same enthusiasm.

“Jason’s hurt, they’re taking him to the hospital.” Nancy said in a hurry, pulling her top on. Robin perks up slightly.

“So, does that mean we’re going home?” Robin asks with a hint of hopefulness.

“I don’t think so,” Nancy answers and Robin sinks slightly, “but they’re making us meet downstairs to talk—so hurry up. Steve and Eddie are already waiting.”

It takes some extra convincing, but the two of you eventually make it downstairs, half dressed and still barely awake. You plop down on the couch between Eddie and Steve, both looking just as groggy and clearly annoyed at being disturbed so early.

It takes you a moment to recognize her, but you catch Chrissy huddled in the far end of the room around her other cheerleading friends, shaken up and crying—like she’d witnessed something she shouldn’t have.

“Hey, what happened?” You nudge Eddie, catch the faint whiff of his vanilla scented shampoo, the one he stole from your place last month because he constantly badgered you about how good it smelt that you finally caved and let him have it, just to shut him up—“Why aren’t we leaving?”

“Uh—they think a mountain lion attacked Jason last night in the woods,” He explains, “Remember when we saw him and Chrissy sneaking off?”

You nod silently and Eddie continues, “I guess he ended up pissing Chrissy off and she left him out there and—I don’t know, something clearly wanted a taste of him—or it was karma for being an asshole.”

You rolled your eyes lazily—it was a fair opinion, because you couldn’t feel much sympathy either, with how much of prick Jason was all the time, specifically toward Eddie, and you by association, there was no telling what caused Chrissy to flee from him last night, but it must’ve been for good reason.

Principal Higgins blows through the front door of the cabin a second later, his scratchy, annoying voice disturbing the peace, “Alright, I’m sure you all have probably talked amongst yourself—and yes, Jason is in the hospital, but the doctors are pretty sure it was an animal attack. We’re not planning on cutting the weekend short, but we are setting a curfew—everyone needs to be in the cabin by nine, no excuses.” There’s a large collective groan from the entire group. Eddie shakes his head slightly in amusement, rubbing at his head tenderly.

“You okay?” You ask quietly, glancing over at him.

“Headache.” He tells you simply, closing his eyes slowly as he leaned his head back against the couch. You tap your fingers against his knee gently, providing him a sense of comfort as he grabs your hand loosely.

“We’ll keep you updated as we learn more,” Higgins explains, “but seriously—keep your asses out of the woods.”

But you knew, in Eddie’s mind, that was a big flashing red sign that said the exact opposite—besides, where else was he supposed to smoke all of the weed he brought with him?

The uneasiness lingers throughout the entire cabin the rest of the day, but for you, it’s one of the last things on your mind. Eddie and Steve seemed tense with each other—and it dawned on you again, they had been rooming with Jason; it was probably freaking both of them out more than they could care to admit.

When you knock on their door that afternoon, you catch the end of what you can only assume was a heavy argument, both of them angrily shoving at things on opposite sides of the room, shoving Jason’s belongings away to be brought downstairs.

“Should I come back later?” You ask awkwardly, peaking through the door, both of them surprisingly startled by your presence.

“We’re fine.” Steve says, tossing the duffel on the floor by your feet. It’s too harsh, too clipped for it to be friendly, he doesn’t want you standing at the door and you can feel it.

Eddie chances a look your way, sending your worry and urges you outside, squeezing himself through the small opening to lead you into the hallway.

“Some people are trying to start rumors,” Eddie explain in a hushed voice, “they think Steve was part of the reason why Jason ended up getting attacked—it doesn’t make any sense, but you know how Steve is—“

“But, we know that’s not true—he was with us last night.” You add, even though it’s obvious information between you and Eddie.

“People talk, though—I’m sure it’ll blow over.” Eddie attempts to reassure you, but you’re not understanding why he’s saying it to you and not Steve—but again, Steve would rather avoid everyone right now.

“Looks like that stuff is going to come in handy,” You emphasize, but Eddie already knows you’re referring to his stash on his bag, “if you can manage to find somewhere to smoke it.”

“I was planning on heading out to the woods after dark anyways,” Eddie shrugged, hands shoved into his back pockets as he leaned his shoulder against the wall, “if you’re so curious to join.”

“The woods?” You ask incredulously, “Seriously? After what just happened?”

“I’ll take my chances.” Eddie laughs, “I’ll protect you—don’t worry.”

You hadn’t even said yes, but it was like Eddie knew, you couldn’t resist an opportunity to be around him.

Eddie tips your chin up with his finger, offering you a warm smile.

“Why don’t you work your sweet girl magic and help with all the rumors?” Eddie suggests, nodding to the group of kids downstairs. “You’re better at socializing than me.”

“I’ll try.” You answer lamely, forcing a tight smile.

“Tonight at eleven.” Eddie tells you, “Don’t be late.”

Whatever the rumors really were, they didn’t have much substance behind them—you eventually found out that it was a harmless comment Chrissy made about Steve being jealous of Jason because he took the captain spot from him, thus spurring him into the undying need to hurt Jason—which just wasn’t true, but Chrissy was rightfully upset, still leaving out the details of what happened with her and Jason in the woods. She did apologize, which ended most of the talk about it, but Eddie still planned to drag Steve out for some time to think, digress, and get high out of their minds, which didn’t sound too bad now.

Which brought you to now, sat on the couch beside Nancy, most of the others already bunked up for the night, allowing you both time to talk, without Robin or Steve or Eddie.

“Are you not worried about him?” You ask Nancy, who shrugs in response.

“He worries about his image a lot, but he’ll get over it.” She takes a moment to pause, eyebrows drawing together in question. “Are you and Eddie ever going to address what’s going on between you both?”

“There’s nothing going on.” You laugh, but it’s unconvincing to Nancy, who stares on knowingly, lips pursed to keep from smiling. “You don’t always have to label everything.”

She nods quietly, pulled out of thought from the phone ringing down the hall. You both freeze in fear, startled by the sudden noise—Robin pops out of the room from above, “Don’t answer that.”

You shake your head slightly, pushing up from the couch, “Well, it’s either answer it or listen to it ring for the rest of the night.”

Nancy hesitates, hand reaching for yours, “—Maybe you should let it ring,”

“God, you two are way too scared.” You say with a tinge of annoyance, walking the short distance to the phone and pressing it to your ear.

“Listen, if you start this phone call off with a question, I’m hanging up.”

You’re met with silence, before the line goes dead abruptly.

You smile triumphantly, pressing the phone back to the wall.

“See, it’s not that—“ Another shrill ring interrupts you, sending Robin halfway down the stairs before you can even comprehend, both of them hurrying to your side to listen.

You press the phone to your ear without hesitation, you meet them with silence instead this time. There’s a faint hum on the other line—breathing, maybe? Then a voice.

“Cocky, I like that.” The robotic voice responds, unsettling your nerves slightly. Both Nancy and Robin’s eyes widen in panic, but you’re not entirely convinced this isn’t just another stupid senior prank. “Where are you right now?”

“If you’re calling, I’m sure you know.” You respond snarkily, attempting to silently comfort both of your friends, “Where are you?”

“You don’t get to ask questions.” The voice snaps, but you feel nothing.

“Are you alone?” They ask, voice tipping up slightly on the last word, intrigued by the idea. You lie.

“Yeah.” You say, “Just me, all alone.”

“And you wouldn’t lie to me?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You tell them with an overly sweet tone, enjoying the low level game they were playing at.

“Good—because if you were; I’d have to kill you.”

You tense slightly, watching the worried expression of your friends turn to horror.

“Instead, I’ll just go for one of your classmates—how does that sound?”

“Oh, so you’re working alone?” You question, ignoring the earlier warning.

It’s not received well.

“I told you no fucking questions.” The voice rips through the receiver, “You’re going to regret that.”

The line goes dead again, anxiety settling in your body, your brain trying to think of any way this could be turned into a joke—that no one could really be attempting to kill you and your friends.

“Now can we leave?” Robin pleads, pulling at the phone line to disconnect it.

“Do you really believe that shit, Robin?” You ask, “Someone is just trying to scare us.”

“Well, I’m fucking terrified.” She admits, interrupted by a nervous Nancy.

“Wait—Steve and Eddie—we have to go get them.” Nancy tells you.

You can tell by the look on their faces that it wasn’t going to be either of them risking their lives, so by default, it ends up being you.

“Fine, I’ll go fetch your boyfriend.” You give in, shoving past the two of them, but Nancy stops you with her hand around your wrist, “What—“

“Here,” She scrambled toward the kitchen, running back to hand you a measly kitchen knife, a butter knife at best, unlikely to fend off anything bigger than a squirrel, but you take it to soothe her anxiousness, “for protection.”

If anything wanted to attack you outside, you weren’t going to be able to stop it with your hands, let alone some knife, but you went anyway.

Both Eddie and Steve are laughing obnoxiously when you approach them, unbeknownst to your presence, knife still clutched tightly in your hand. The snap of dry branches pulling their attention toward your dark figure as it lurched from the shadows.

“Woah, sweetheart—“ Eddie says with wide eyes, hands held up in defense as he sees you posed, weapon at the ready, “care to explain the murderess look in your eyes?”

“Nancy wants you back at the cabin,” You point to Steve, motioning with the knife in the direction of the house. Steve and Eddie share a look, long and difficult to decipher from an outside perspective, but you ignore it, desperate for Steve to leave, “she’s pretty freaked out—Robin too.”

“Are they okay?” Steve asks, earning an if of surety from you.

“Nance just wants you back, I wouldn’t keep her waiting.”

Eddie gives Steve a knowing look, tapping his arm gently, “Remember—no sex, they’re always the first ones to get slashed.” Steve shakes his head in annoyance before leaping from the table in a hurry, jogging back toward the house without much of a word, knowing that Nancy would have it out for him if he didn’t.

You drop the knife to the ground immediately, Eddie approaching you without hesitation, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Look, I’m really trying to hold my shit together, right now.” You say slowly, eyes closing to calm your breathing, Eddie’s hands rubbing gently at your shoulders, “But, we just got a call back at the house—and I’m fucking freaking out.”

“Hey, hey—“ Eddie says softly, “everyone knows it’s the anniversary of all the shit that happened last year—someone’s probably trying to scare you, that’s it.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell Nance and Robin,” You explain, “but—you know, what if—“

“Here,” Eddie says, holding up the rolled joint, ultimately ending the conversation and soothing your worries, “light up and forget, alright? She’s all yours.”

“You’re a terrible influence.” You tell him, plucking the joint from his fingers and following him toward the picnic table, climbing until you’re seated on the top, Eddie squeezing onto the bench below you, shifting until he was seated between your outstretched legs. You let him light up the joint before pulling it to your mouth, breathing in until it stung.

“See? All your problems float away, like that.” Eddie jokes, snapping his fingers for show.

You sigh softly, joint held tight between your fingers as you look down at him, “How are you so calm?”

“Well, I’m really high—so that helps,” Eddie laughs slightly, “but the more you think about it, the more it’s going to bother you—I mean, look at Robin.”

“So, I shouldn’t be worried about that call?” You ask, like validation from Eddie would solve all your problems.

He was always the fix-all; Eddie knew the right things to say, when to say them, to a disturbing degree, almost—but it helped comfort you like nothing else ever could.

“No.” He tells you simply, you believe him.

“And the chance that a mountain lion might come and attack us right now?”

“I’ll fight it off with your butter knife,” Eddie jokes, “problem solved.”

“I’m serious,” You stress, face pleading with him.

“Close your eyes,” Eddie says, your eyes fall shut obediently, “listen—do you hear that?”

There isn’t a sound to be heard, not a gust of wind, a crackle in the deeper part of the woods, only the soft slush of the water as it moved within the lake.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly—there’s nothing to worry about. It’s just us.”

Eddie’s hand circles the span of your ankle, rubbing soft gentle touches into the skin, your head tipping back as you finish off the joint, passing along what you couldn’t smoke the rest of, Eddie taking it on greedily. Eddie was always very touchy, but it intensified at times like these—and your skin burned, tingled with electricity as your mind wandered, feeling like it was floating away.

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone.” You ask Eddie, head tilting up to look at him, his eyes spread over the expanse of your thighs, skin exposed from the shorts you wore. “Not even Steve.”

“I’m an open book,” Eddien replies plainly, “you already know everything.”

You scoff, “Lame.” You move further up the table, feeling bold, ass nearing the edge as you fall into Eddie’s lap, his hands latching onto your waist instinctively. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him look genuinely shocked, mouth hung open slightly as you spoke again, “fine—I’ll go.”

“I know I should feel bad about Jason being hurt, but I don’t.” You shrug and Eddie smirks slightly at that, knowing all too well. “That prick deserves everything that’s coming to him.”

“You’re still upset at him for exposing that picture all around school, aren’t you?” Eddie teases, it wasn’t much of a sore subject anymore—a joke, sometimes, but he never tried bringing it up unless you did first.

“I was stupid for trusting him.” You admit honestly, through your haze of unfiltered thoughts, “Now the entire class knows what my tits look like.”

Eddie makes a small noise of amusement, “I guess this can count as a secret, seeing as you’re my best friend and Steve would gouge his ears out if I told him this,” You’re apprehensive to hear now, but Eddie continues, “I liked them.”

You shove Eddie with a weak force, “I thought you said you didn’t see it!”

“I lied,” He shrugs calmly, watching your face heat up, “does that make you uncomfortable now?”

You shake your head slightly, the sudden proximity feeling charged, his hands squeezing gently at your hips for a brief moment.

“Don’t move.” Eddie instructs hotly, breath ghosting over your chest as he leans into you, his face barely visible in the darkness, the faint glow of the cabin helping you make out the more basic features of his face. His wide eyes looked full black, you weren’t sure you recognized him, but it still felt like him. “I’m gonna kiss you.”

Your breath catches, hands falling to his knees where they’re spread out beneath you, stabilizing you on his lap as he pulls you closer—he wasn’t asking or hoping, he was taking; and god forbid you deprive yourself of something you wanted just as bad.

He kisses like fire—hot and intense, lips smashing against yours messily, no rhythm or care; just pure need and want. It felt like being swallowed whole, savored. You couldn’t get enough. He grunts, hands digging into the swell of your ass as you pull back, your bottom lip caught between his teeth as he pulls gently, releasing it slowly.

You sigh, a long exhale, “We should get back to the cabin.” You say with deep regret, but couldn’t stand another moment outside being eaten up by bugs and covered in a sheen of humidity induced sweat.

Eddie makes a noise, neither approval or disagreement, like he’s not totally listening—but then the lights to cabin cut off, followed by a high pitched scream that pulls you both from the moment—you jump off of Eddie’s lap so quickly he falls off the bench, barely catching himself with his hands.

“The hell was that?” You ask in a panic, grabbing desperately for his hands to help him up.

“Maybe it was a power surge.” Eddie tries to remain levelheaded, but it’s followed by another bloodcurdling scream. “Okay—maybe not—here, go.” He shoved you off toward the direction of the cabin, running back to his supplies sitting on the table, “I’ll catch up with you, I promise.”

“Eddie.”

“I promise,” He assures you once more, “go.”

The run back to the cabin is short, a concerned Robin meeting you at the front door, looking far more terrified than earlier.

“The power’s out,” Robin says in a panic, pushing you outside of the doorway, “Steve’s trying to get it back on and Nancy went to wake up Principal Higgins—“

“Robin,” You call out to your rapidly talking friend, pulling at the item coughed in her hand, “what’s with the keys?”

“It’s just—just a precaution,” Robin explains, pointing at the bus parked down the road, “—I told you—things felt weird from the beginning. I wasn’t lying.”

You glance back at the vehicle, an idea springin on you, “Wait, come here,” You grab at Robin’s hand; dragging her along with you until you reach the door of the bus, prying it open, “—better safe than sorry, right? See if it’ll start..”

Robin doesn’t hesitate, squeezing through the small space until she can reach the driver’s seat, shoving the key into the ignition—she turns it once, a hopeful rumble of life from the bus before it cuts short, “More, try turning it faster and holding it.” Robin nods, trying again.

The bus sputters, the entire thing dying out after a few seconds.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Robin exclaims, screaming at the steering wheel.

“Hey—maybe Steve will get the power back on,” You make an attempt at calming her down, “we can plug the phone back in and try to call the police—“

Nancy’s scream rips through the air, her distant running figure hurling toward the bus at a speed that could only be described as panicked, her hands covered in thick, red sludge and face pale with fear.

“Fuck—Nancy, what happened?” You ask, grabbing her outstretched arms to steady her shaking.

“Mr—Mr. Clark and—and Mr. Mundy,” Nancy stammers, eyes welling with tears as they glazed over, “I saw them—I saw it—it killed them.”

Robin shoved through the accordion door, “Who?” She presses, keys gripped tightly in her hand, “Who killed them?”

“I don’t—I don’t know.” She shakes her head, “The mask—they had the same mask. It was the same person. It has to be.”

“They arrested him.” You assured her, “It can’t be.”

“Then it’s someone else!” She spits back, broken from her frozen state of fear, pulling her arms back, blood splattering against your face. “I’m covered in—oh my god—where’s Steve?”

“He’s still trying to get the power on,” Robin points out, “what about Eddie?” Their heads immediately turn to you.

“He had to pack up his stuff in the woods—“

Nancy gives you a weird look.

“Weed—Nance, we were smoking.”

“Wait, how close are the woods to those cabins—and the generator?” Robin asks, trying to stay level headed enough to piece things together.

By some horrible, unfortunate coincidence, the cabins are settled just a handful of feet away from where you and Eddie had been only a few minutes ago, not far off from Steve either, which makes the three of you jump into action—until you’re turning the corner of the cabin, meet with the two men you were so frantically looking for.

“Nance—Nancy?” Steve shouts, running toward her in a rush, staring at her blood covered hands in shock, “Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head profusely, “No—no, I’m not.”

“Did you get the power on?” You ask, staring up at Steve from where he was curled around Nancy, hugging her shaking body.

“Someone cut the lines,” He tells you, “Eddie tried helping, but we’re screwed—“

“Wait,” Eddie cuts in, glancing over Nancy’s disheveled figure, “why are you covered in blood?”

“Clarke and Mundy, they’re dead.” You explain for her, knowing that Nancy wouldn’t be able to explain it again, not with the state she was in. “Whatever was here last year, it’s back and it killed them in front of her.”

“So, we’re leaving then.” Eddie says, like it’s the most obvious option.

“One small problem, dipshit—“ Robin says with an immense amount of snark, “They fucked with the bus, too. We’re stuck here until morning,”

“Someone needs to get Higgins,” Nancy says softly, “If he’s even still alive.”

“And we need to make sure everyone’s awake and knows what’s going on.” You tell the group, pointing at Robin, “Maybe you can find someone who has a phone with them and can call—“

“Didn’t Higgins take everyone’s phones before we left?” Steve asked, something you had completely overlooked. “Can we even trust him?”

“We’re talking about a group of teenagers, Steve.” Robin replies, “Someone is bound to have snuck one in. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it—you should go clean Nancy up.”

“Eddie and I can go look for Principal Higgins.” You offer, grabbing at Eddie’s hand, his own grip giving a squeeze. “We’ll meet back here in an hour, if we’re not back, come looking for us.”

Steve slowly guides Nancy toward the front door, a nervous Robin on their trail. “We will, be safe.” She tells you, receiving a nod from both you and Eddie before they disappear behind the threshold of the door.

“Still with me?” Eddie asks, a slight hopefulness to his voice. “I can go by myself if you’re too scared.”

“You’re not going by yourself.” You say with finality, “Do you still have your pocket knife on you?” He nods, pulling the tiny switchblade from his front pocket and presenting it to you.

You grab it with ease, pulling the blade out and grasping the handle tightly in your palm. “Look—now I can defend myself.”

“Yeah, from someone with a fear of papercuts.” Eddie jokes, flicking the tiny blade with his fingertips.

“This isn’t suspicious, right?” You ask, shoving open the unlocked door to the empty cabin, not a soul in sight beside you and Eddie, who crowds in behind you, closing the door for safety. “Principal Higgins?!” You call out, mouth immediately clasped over by Eddie’s palm, effectively shushing you.

“What are you doing?” He asks in a hushed voice, “Are you trying to draw the killer here or something?”

“Sorry,” You say impishly, tugging his hand away gently, “—maybe we should take a look around.”

“For safety?” Eddie asks with a small quirk to his eyebrow.

“And curiosity," You tell him honestly, sifting through the dresser drawers haphazardly, shifting and shoving clothes to the side, “it doesn’t hurt to look.”

Eddie shrugs, joining in your search, peeking through the duffel bags placed one the circular table shoved in the corner of the room by the front door, a remedy of normal toiletries and random items that didn’t make much sense to him.

“He could already be back at the cabin,” You suggest, disappointed in your lack of discovery, aside from his terrible choice in clothing, “did you find anything?”

Eddie doesn’t answer you at first, back hunched over as he searches through the bag. You approach him slowly, nudging gently at his waist until he answers you, “Hey, you okay?”

“Well, if he’s not killing people, he’s definitely a grade A creep,” Eddie says into the quiet room, slapping a small stack of Polaroids on the table.

You shifted until you were beside him, alternating through the pictures—various girls in different states of undress, some during the day that were taken from inside his cabin, girls dressed down in the swimsuits, but the more disturbing ones—a few of the cheerleaders, asleep in their bed; meaning he would have had to sneak into the cabin and into the room quietly enough that they wouldn’t be disturbed—but that was already unsettling enough.

“Part of me is relieved that I’m not in here,” You admit selfishly, “is that horrible of me to say?”

Eddie shakes his head, “No—I wouldn’t have let that happen.”

“Oh, really?” You ask, slightly intrigued. “Because you knew that Higgins was up to no good and you were hoping to be my knight in shining armor?” It’s a harmless joke, your hand releasing the Polaroids as they scattered back onto the table. “I don’t need you to save me, Eddie.”

“I’m aware.” Eddie chuckles slightly, turning slightly to face you, sitting against the table, fingers curling around the edge. “I know how well you can handle yourself—you always have.”

You bat your eyes sweetly, “Eddie, are you really trying to put the moves on, right now?” Eddie shrugs nonchalantly, “Eddie—“

“Is it working?” Eddie asks hopefully, his foot carefully sneaking between your parted ones, nudging at your shoes until you lose balance, forcing you to fall against him.

“Eddie—people are dead,” You point out, “Jason was hurt the other night, Nancy and Robin are back at the cabin freaking out—and someone threatened to kill me over the phone—“

“Yet, there’s no one around,” Eddie points out, “there’s no screaming—look at me,” He taps at your chin with his finger, pushing your face up to meet his, “I mean it—look at me.”

Your eyes pull to his, his wide doe eyes glazed black in this light, penetrating your very essence of being, almost like you couldn’t help but be entranced by the things he was telling you, the way he was looking at you—touching you.

“I’ve been trying to get you alone,” He admits, sending a chill of excitement down your spine, mixed with a hint of apprehension and arousal, “but you were always busy—“

“But, the other night—with Steve and Nance—“

“Alone,” He insists, “just me, just you.”

“We do that all the time back in Hawkins—what’s the difference?”

Eddie smiles sadly, pushing stray hair from your face, his fingers pressing into the dip at the base of your neck, pulling it taut gently, “Feels like we’re running out of time, right? Feels like I’m gonna lose you.”

“Eddie—I’m not leaving.” You reassure him, “I’ll always be there, whenever you need me.”

“Promise?” Eddie asks softly.

You nod gently, eyes peeking a glance to his soft lips, jutting out slightly from the front on his face, before slowly moving back up his face. Eddie catches it, feeds off of it.

“Say it.”

“I promise.” You tell him, not a shake or waver in your voice.

You felt shift long after Eddie, he knew it for the moment you stepped inside the cabin—the unwarranted tension, thick and permeating between you both. It was strong now, after earlier in the night, now just a few minutes after midnight—you wanted him to kiss you again—again, and again, until you couldn’t even remember your name. It felt ludicrous and maybe it was the lingering high, despite being freaked out of your mind, you still balanced an unnatural sense of calm. And Eddie seemed unphased, unconcerned—so you followed suit, knowing that as long as you were near him, you’d be fine. Eddie had always protected, that would never change.

You shift between his outstretched legs, tugging idly at the at leather chained bracelet secured around his wrist, letting the hand fall to your thigh, feeling Eddie squeeze until you get message, hiking your leg up and over his own silently, letting him repeat the same process with the other side—and suddenly he’s got your legs secured around his hips, leading you toward the half made bed, neither of you uttering a word until your back hits the mattress.

“Eddie—“ You begin, cut off by his soothing voice.

“Shut your mind off, sweetheart.”

“Didn’t you—you say that the people who have sex always end up getting killed first?” You ask with a slight joking tone, his mouth working underneath your shirt, lips dragging over the soft skin of your stomach, catching on the firm underwire of your bra, his nose nudging the material further and further up your body.

“What a way to die,” He says with a dramatic sigh of relief, eyes crinkling from the laugh he lets out, your face scrunched up in disbelief, “—we’ll be okay, trust me.”

“We don’t even have a condom.” Eddie nips at the top of your breast, tongue leading a line of your collarbone until your shirt is shoved under your neck, leaving you no option but to remove it, fabric falling to the floor with little care.

“Do we need one?” Eddie asks boldly. It wasn’t like you didn’t trust him—Eddie didn’t get much action outside of his hand and it was very apparent, despite his constant refusal to admit it to you—things already felt off, but Eddie is desperate to comfort you, “I can pull out?”

It feels ridiculous in the moment, hearing him say it, but you nod hesitantly, pulling at the edge of his shirt until he understands, material pulling over his wild mess of curls, his hair falling in your face. You laugh softly, shoving it away and guiding Eddie’s mouth to yours, sufficiently silencing him for a moment, aside from the quiet groans of pleasure he let slip against your lips, tongue begging to slip through and into your mouth, wandering hands pulling at your jean shorts until you’re letting him wiggle them down your hips, not once pulling away from his mouth.

“Wanna taste,” He breathes against you, tongue dipping past your parted lips, triggering a sharp intake of breath, “—all of you.” Your cunt pulses at the thought, the thick fabric of Eddie’s jeans rubbing against your thighs and you grimace, the sensitivity of your skin making it feel uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your jeans,” You tell him, feeling slightly ridiculous, “take them off.”

“Can you ask nicely?” Eddie teases.

Your face falls, emotionless against his smiling face. “Take them off.”

Eddie smiles even wider, quickly releasing his hold on you to pull at the belt and button of his jeans, shifting his pants down his legs until he can kick them away. You take note of his expression, looking smug from behind the obvious haze of lust.

“Do you like being bossed around?” You laugh softly, feeling you discovered something new, something Eddie had been trying to hide from you.

“By you, maybe,” Eddie shrugs, lifting you with ease until your head hits the pillow, squealing softly as you go, “—assertiveness looks good on you.”

“Almost as good as you look on me,” You say sultrily, pulling Eddie down for a deep-rooted kiss, his hands twisting around your thighs to hike them up again, feet crossed loosely over his back, “—in me, too, if you hurry it up.”

And Eddie was a man of action, so he doesn’t waste anymore time, his hands slipping under your panties in a hurry, yanking them down your legs until he can throw them away in a random corner of the room, his mouth connecting with your center in an instant, the gasp you let out is startling, hand shooting out to prop yourself up, body curling in on itself as Eddie works away, licking a broad stripe up your cunt and back, nosing at your clit with urgency, your other hand fisted tightly in his hair as your hips rocked against his face out of instinct. “Eddie,” You moan out, “—feels so good, more—“ You can’t breathe, overtaking with the stimulation—you fall back in defeat, letting the feeling flood through, his hands gripping at your inner thighs, pulling them wide and tight into his grip, his eyes peeking up from below, daring you to make contact, begging to see just how fucked out you are.

Eddie pulls back for a second, “Look at me,” He demands, his mouth latching back on, tongue flicking gently at your swollen clit, waiting patiently until you can muster the courage, eyes falling open to connect with his, face flushed with pleasure and embarrassment, mouth held open on a gasp that gets caught in your throat, the muscles in his face twitching as he works away at you, hearing the wet squelch of slick that comes from you as he sneaks a hand in too, middle finger pressing into you slowly, “—that’s right, need you to remember who’s making you feel this good.”

“I don’t think I could forget,” You laugh breathlessly, a loud moan ripping from your throat as Eddie curls his finger, pulling back slightly to watch his finger disappear inside of you, he loses his focus, ignoring the soft calls of his name until you finally raise your voice, “—Eddie, come here.”

He lifts up slowly, rising to his knees as you shift forward, your head level with his chest as he looks down at you, hand still covered in your wetness as it flexes, his rings shifting with the movement.

“Open.” He says softly, using his other hand to pull at your bottom lip, parting your mouth until your tongue peeks out, eyes peering up at him. His hand raises slowly, slipping to the tip of his middle finger over the flat of your tongue, more and more, until the edge of his ring hits your lip, “Suck.”

You weren’t initially turned off by the idea, only slightly hesitant as your lips closed over his finger, sucking gently, the warmth of your mouth and soft press of your tongue constricting around his finger, a slightly pressure as he pressed down testingly, pushing just a bit further until your eyes are watering, nearly gagging. Eddie pulls back carefully, staring down at you with a special kind of adoration; something you couldn’t decipher right now, he smiles softly, forcing you to return the sentiment.

You’re too impatient now, staring up at him with eager eyes, hands pulling at the band of his underwear, “Do you want me to?” You ask softly, nodding toward the obvious tent in his boxers, his cock straining against the thin material.

Eddie shakes his head hesitantly, “I’m gonna be honest, sweetheart—if the sight of your mouth around my fingers is enough to kill me, I’m not sure I can handle it around my dick—not right now at least.” You laugh softly at his honesty, letting Eddie push you further and further against the bed, shifting his underwear down in the process, “Plus, I’d really like to be inside of you more.”

“Oh?” You voice lilts, breasts shifting underneath your bra, jumping slightly at Eddie’s movements. It was a small oversight he missed, too eager to please you, but he noticed now, flicking at the small black bow in the middle of your breasts, finger slipping under the stiff centerpiece, shifting your breasts upwards. He doesn’t need to verbalize that he wants it off, you can see the way his face turns, almost demanding, rather than questioning. You smile with amusement, hand slipping behind your back to release the clasp, letting Eddie pull it from your body with ease, your body on full display before him.

Eddie’s hands caress the lines of your body, up and down, exploring with care, stopping at the curve of your hips, squeezing gently, “Can I be on top?” You ask shyly, your hands falling to his, traveling up the expanse of his arm, squeezing in return.

Eddie nods eagerly, spinning you with a ferocity that has you both laughing, your hands slapping against his chest in a hope to stable yourself, wet core sliding against the line of his cock, his breath coming out in a stutter, even more forceful as you grab his shaft with a gentle grip, settling onto him with ease, the mixed pitch of sighs joining together, whatever line that you two had originally drawn was crossed and long forgotten about.

“Fuck,” Eddie sighs, hands resting up by his head as you shift forward slightly, a slow gentle rock of your hips as you accustomed yourself to him, the stretch of his cock welcoming but intense, you watched as his hands balled into fists, uncurling and curling every few seconds, unsure of what to do with his hands. You lean back, hands placed back on his thighs as you bring your hips down in one sharp movement, spiraling both of you into a mess of loud groans, your head falling back, eyes closed as you focus on the intense feeling of Eddie inside of you.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” You say honestly, breath hitched as your thighs tighten, there’s a faint ruffling sound, but you’re too distracted, hips rocking in time with his thrusts, “—can you?”

Eddie chuckles lightly, feeling the cold press of metal against your inner thigh, the deep indent of his rings as he presses harder, until it’s bordering on pain, pulling your attention back to him.

But it isn’t his rings, it’s a knife—not his pocket knife, a large, threatening, very real knife, pressed along the line of your inner thigh, blade poised against the skin. Your first instinct is to jump, push away, but Eddie senses the apprehension immediately, a firm grip on your leg as he pushes the metal further, barely cutting the skin.

“I’ve waited a long time, sweetheart.” He states, still sounding like Eddie, feeling like Eddie, but his face is different—it’s still him, mostly, but there’s a weird pull at his smile, his eyes less wide and innocent, like he’s not really himself, but still vividly aware of what he’s doing. “I don’t think you really know.”

You jerk away, expecting the moment to be broken, but it only seems to spur Eddie on further. You don’t feel scared, or terrified—but startled, yes.

“What the fuck?” You say viciously, gripping the wrist that held the knife. “This isn’t funny, Eddie.”

“Let go,” He says through gritted teeth, yanking harshly at your hand until you release him, he pushes further into the skin, a small trail of blood slipping down your legs. You wince, jolting away from the blade, blood spilling down your thigh onto his, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your eyebrows pull together in frustration, “You just cut me.” You say with a harsh tone, causing Eddie to shoot up, pulling the blade from your leg to press against the center of your throat, blunt edge pressed against the skin as the tip barely grazes the line of your neck. You tense, forcing yourself to be still, watching Eddie examine your expression, a faint smirk pulling at his face.

“But, I didn’t hurt you,” He says softly, free hand moving to caress the side of your face, thumb rubbing the shivering line of your bottom lip, “I didn’t tell you to stop moving, did I?”

It feels ridiculous, trying to move or run away, so you listen, allowing Eddie to lead the movements, his voice coming through a few seconds later, “Unless you’d like to stop,” He offers, “I was enjoying myself—I know you are too. I just wanted to talk, sweetheart.”

You nod slightly, careful of the knife, “Then talk,” You instruct, voice light and airy as Eddie’s hand traveled to your backside, curling around the curve of your ass as you moved, allowing him to chase whatever morbid pleasure he was after, “or go ahead and kill me, if that’s what you’re after.”

“No, no, no,” Eddie coos, leaning in to drag his lips down your chest, catching up the hardened bud of your nipple, cold metal still pressed firmly against your skin, “I couldn’t ever kill you—wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Are you trying to scare me?” You ask softly, voice shaking, “Is it you, Eddie? Please—just be honest with me.”

“Don’t be scared,” He soothes, lips dragging higher, voice muffled against your skin until his lips can latch against your throat, alongside the blade, dragging small, light patterns into your skin. Your breath catches, body fighting between pleasure and fear, still overwhelmed by Eddie and the care and love you held toward him, but terrified out of your mind that this might be your last moment of life, “I can explain, if you’ll listen—but I want you to finish—want you to feel good.”

You feel like you’re losing your mind, like part of you might actually enjoy whatever show Eddie was putting on; fake or not. He pulls the knife away, flipping it in his hand to set it aside, turning his full attention back toward you as his arms tighten around your middle, lifting you with ease as you fall against him, arms sling over his shoulders as he fucks into you, legs spread wide over his thighs. You gasp, pulling tightly at the hair near the nape of his neck, earning a pained grunt in return.

You can see the knife at his back, just barely out of reach, mind working hard to come up with a way to grab it, throw it, get it away—anything, but your eyes curiously travel upwards, catching sight of the horrifically familiar mask from where it had slipped out from under the pillow, having been deeply tucked away and out of sight. You gasp in horror and arousal, Eddie’s rough, calloused hands searching between you both until he finds your clit, rubbing slow, languid circles until you’re nothing but a mess; moaning, begging, forgetting everything but the feeling of him inside you and all over you, sighing out his name as you come, feeling ashamed but overpowered with euphoria—finally achieving something with Eddie that you craved for so long, but conflicted with whatever emotion you were feeling in the moment, you couldn’t pinpoint it.

“Shit—gonna come too,” Eddie warns, the sound of his voice more comforting, more him, “move, sweetheart.”

“No,” You challenge—and maybe you’ll regret it later, but it feels right, it feels like everything you need, “you can—it’s okay.”

Eddie pulls back, looking back at you with a vulnerability you’ve only ever seen once, in a moment of deep connection, his eyes closed, face buried into your chest as he tenses, coming inside you with a rough grip on your thighs, hips working gently through the aftershocks.

And it’s the only opportunity you have in the small window distraction, hand slipping down discreetly to pull at the knife, grabbing a fistful of hair to yank his head back, knife poised at his throat.

“Now talk,” You demand, pressing the knife in further, “is it Higgins? Or have you been lying to me this whole time?”

“It’s me. It’s me.” He says in desperation, face drawn up in pain as you pull hard, a strangled moan of discomfort slipping from his lips. “I want to explain. I want to talk. Sweetheart—come on.”

You press harder, urging him further. You weren’t handing over that power, even when he subtly shifts to pull out of you, legs still squeezed tightly over his lap, keeping him at bay.

“You don’t know how it feels,” He says quietly, “to kill someone. It’s exhilarating—like a drug, I can’t describe it.”

“Try.”

“I wanted you.” He admits, “I wanted you by my side.”

“What?”

“Don’t act innocent,” He smiles slightly, “I know you’ve thought about it—what it feels like.”

You pull back slightly, feeling exposed. You weren’t crazy, you didn’t feel crazy, but deep down, part of you believes him. You can’t tell if it’s confused by the love you held for Eddie, or the innate fear of losing your friend, or him having never really been himself at all—maybe it had always been a show.

“I wanted to ask you last year, but we weren’t close enough.” He admits, swallowing noticeably, “You were shy—but I knew. You’re just like me.” He says with a faint laugh, “We’re practically the same person—I know you see that.”

“So that means I’m a fucking murderer?” You ask with a bite, pressing the knife into his skin until it bleeds a tinge of red, Eddie hisses, jerking away with no success. “I’m nothing like you.”

“Not yet,” He says boldly, “everyone is capable deep down—with the right motivation.”

“So, how did you do it?” You ask curiously, tightening your grip on his hair from where he’d slipped loose, Eddie makes a small noise of discomfort, nostrils flaring.

“Last summer?” He asks with a faint smirk on his face, “I ran solo—it wasn’t what I wanted, but it ran smoother than this time.”

“This time?” You ask, trying to pick at what he was hinting around.

“Think, sweetheart.” He teases, pushing against the blade slightly, “Use that pretty little brain of yours.”

It’s a seems like a simple process of elimination, but with one of your closest friends posed beneath you, confessing to murdering over a dozen teenagers, it wasn’t that easy. You cross Robin and Nancy off immediately though, knowing they couldn’t be capable—

“I see the gears turning,” Eddie sings, “I’ll give you three guesses.”

“And if I get them wrong?”

“Then you give me my knife back,” Eddie says simply, “and I’ll tell you why you’re wrong.”

“Jason?” It seemed completely out of the ballpark, but it was still a shot. “I’m guessing you’re a man down.”

“Huh, no. He’s lucky to be alive—if it had been me, he wouldn’t have made it out.”

“God—this entire time, Eddie—you were lying to me—“

“Next guess.” He pressed, ignoring you.

Your jaw clenches, shoving the tip of the knife up by his ear, blade scraping against the barely growing scruff, “Fuck, I don’t know—Chrissy?”

“You think I have a fetish for working with people that hate me? Let’s think a little closer to home.” Eddie says with a laugh, the small slip drilling into your mind, causing you to immediately pull back, dropping the knife and shoving yourself off his lap.

“No,” You say softly, pulling at your clothes, scrambling and slipping to dress yourself to some degree, “no, no, no.”

If it weren’t for Eddie and Steve pushing this trip so hard, you would have never gone, content with staying back in Hawkins and never seeing half of these people again, contained in your small bubble of friends, but it hits you in phases—thinking back on every single interaction you’ve ever had.

Eddie was never overly obsessed with you, but Steve had showed a quickly growing interest, pulling you into the friend group with ease, shoving you into their daily routine and making your transition from mostly sticking to yourself to hanging out almost every day, being thrusted into the unnatural social circle that Steve had created for himself, always finding more comfort in hiding away with Eddie than anything else—it was the main reason you two had grown so close, so fast.

“Steve—he wouldn’t—” You tell him, shirt clutched to your chest.

Eddie moves slowly, reaching for his discarded underwear and jeans, pulling them on as he spoke, “Steve is—interesting,” Eddie says carefully, mincing his words for Steve’s sake, he buttons his jeans, standing shirtless as he approaches you, “—this is why I wanted you alone. I needed you to hear me out.”

“You’re insane. Both of you.” You say harshly, extending your hands out to push Eddie away, but you don’t put up much of a fight when he shoves past, pulling your face into his hands gently. “Where’s Higgins?” You ask quietly, eyes pulling up to connect with Eddie’s; you couldn’t feel scared, because it still felt like himself, he still looked like himself.

“Tied up, out back, he's out for the night,” Eddie tells you without hesitation, “you see, I have this plan; it’s all going to be on him. Higgins is a creep, anyways—we can turn it around on him, let him take that fall. No one would ever know.”

“So, you didn’t kill him?” You ask.

He shakes his head slowly, “No—the other two, yeah.”

You exhale shakily, “But—why Steve? How?”

“I always wanted it to be you by my side,” He admits, “but Steve found out at the beginning of the school year—picking through my shit like the nosy fucker he is. I don’t think you understand how unhinged he is—“

“And you’re not?” You counter, feeling like it was a weak attempt to justify his actions.

“Sweetheart, what do you think? Do I seem unhinged?” He asks calmly, “Who do you think tried to kill Jason?”

“Not you.”

Eddie nods, “Bingo—Steve couldn’t even get the knife through, started slashing because he panicked—Jason will never know, probably won’t even remember any of it, but Steve was never capable of this shit, not the way he wanted to be.”

“But, why me?” You ask with a gentle frown, tears burning your eyes. “Why don’t you just kill me? That’s what you want, right?”

Eddie shakes his head, further reassuring that you were never who he was after.”Steve planned all of this for you—he wanted to be the one to kill you.”

“What?”

“He got a little obsessed,” Eddie tells you, “kept talking to me about how we should do it, when we should do it—and I couldn't break his poor heart, not at first.”

You feel dirty, disgusting, betrayed, every possible emotion that could be felt in the human body, you’d felt tonight.

“So—if I go back to the house—,” You try to calm your breathing, taking it slow and steady, despite the obvious quiver to your tone, “I’m dead?”

“Not unless you do what I say when the time comes,” Eddie tells you carefully, “You listen to me—everything I say; you’ll be fine.”

“What happens from here?” You ask with apprehension.

“Steve kinda wrecked my plans—I didn’t mean to kill those two in front of Nancy—I never even planned to hurt her, but he’s a terrible partner—god, you would’ve been perfect.” He trails off, your hands snatching his own away from your face.

“Eddie.” You warn, “Get me out of here. Now—or I’m killing you.”

Eddie offers a knowing smirk—he already knew what it would take for his dream to become reality.

“Listen to me carefully,” He begins, pointing to the cabin in the distance, “You’re going to run back there, find Nancy and Robin, let Steve come to you. Do not end up alone with him—I’m serious. Despite how horrible he is at going through with shit, I don’t think he’ll have trouble with you—not with how obsessed he's been about you.”

You nod carefully, trying to grasp how you’ve ended up in such a bizzare turn of events, standing in front of your best friend, a threat; murderous enough to kill people, but not you, for whatever reason. It felt like a horrible fucking nightmare you couldn’t escape. You force your top back on, pulling at the handle until the door creaks open, Eddie grips at your arm before you take a step.

“I’ll be there.” He assures you, eyes lingering on your emotionless face until he decides to let go, the pit in your stomach grows larger, feeling like you were about to be swallowed by whatever long, impending doom had been following you all night.

“Nance?” You scream out at the head of the cabin, a suffering silence overtaking the lake, aside from a faint ruffling inside the house. “Robin?!”

You didn’t hear anyone, not your friends, not anyone else—like they had all fled, which considering the knowledge you had now, was probably for the best, but it still send a deep tinge of worry through your body, wondering if they weren’t all just dead inside—was Steve really capable of that?

You push the door open, the door creaking to a stop in the dead silence. You call out their names again; nothing—but there’s a noise, faint, but close. It sounds like crying, desperate and muffled.

“Hello?” You call out, a small shriek in response, someone desperately trying to get your attention. “Are you hurt?”

Nothing that time, you take it a few feet further, turning the corner to a small library shoved in the corner of the house, two bare feet peeking out from around this bookcase.

You can feel the regret instantly, your feet taking you past the threshold without thinking, cries now becoming whimpers, clearer than ever.

“I can help you—“ You say softly, stepping back slightly as the person stepped forward, turning the blind corner; they weren’t alone, bound with their hands behind their back, knife shoved forcefully against their throat. It was Chrissy, face covered in tear stained mascara.

The person behind them was silent, covered in black robes, that same mask that Eddie had hidden back in Higgins cabin, not so secret anymore. You hear Eddie’s earlier warning, wondering if this was all an elaborate set up.

Maybe this was their plan all along, maybe Steve wasn’t as reckless as Eddie thought. The person cocks their head, knowing that if they spoke, it would give them away immediately—lucky for you, that wasn’t a problem.

Chrissy looks mostly unscathed, aside from the noticeable bruise by her eye, probably used to subdue her before binding her hands. “Let her go,” You suggest gently, but firmly, “let her go and you can have me.”

The masked figure shakes their head, refusing to speak.

“Cat got your tongue?” You tease, “You were very talkative on the phone, you know?”

You can see his grip tightening around the blade and Chrissy tenses, eyes squeezing shut in fear. If Eddie’s words were true, Steve would never be capable.

“But, I thought you were going to kill me?” You asked innocently, “Don’t I ask too many questions?”

“Shut up.” He snaps, “Or you can watch me gut her first.”

Chrissy cries out, face turned away as she wiggles away from the knife with no luck.

You hear the approaching footsteps before you see him, Eddie turning the corner with a focused speed, wasting no time in pushing past you, plunging the knife through Chrissy’s chest with ease, not a single twitch of hesitation. Your mouth falls open in shock, feet stumbling back against the wall as you watch on in horror.

You couldn’t say that you were ever close to Chrissy—you didn’t know her very well and you didn’t know the history between her and Eddie, but didn’t deserve that, it didn’t seem feasible. But, you try to shake the thought from your mind, staring at Eddie—he’s not dressed up, which seemed to throw Steve off track, and he yanks at his mask in frustration.

“What the fuck?” Steve asks loudly, throwing the mask to the ground.

Eddie ignores his frustration, “Nancy, Robin, where are they?”

“They got everyone out of the house, they’re trying to flag down help—or—whatever—why the fuck is she still alive?” Steve glances over at you boldly, your body runs cold.

You didn’t even recognize the person standing in front of you.

“I could ask you the same,” Eddie counters, “but it looks like I took care of that for you, like I have been.”

Your eyes narrow, sensing the growing tension. You take a careful step back, floor creaking underneath your feet, both of their heads shooting in your direction. Steve almost lunges after you, but Eddie has a tight hold on him. Eddie looks at you with intense, pensive eyes, silently begging,

“Don’t. Move.” He says, nodding toward the empty chair. “Sit down.”

You move slowly, carefully, following the edge of the room until you can slip into the seat, watching Steve’s intense gaze follow you the entire way.

“I saved her for you,” Eddie admits; your heart drops, “—there’s no backing out now, Steve. She knows.”

You watch as Eddie adjusts the knife in Steve’s grip, allowing him to get a firm grip, before Eddie’s quietly trailing behind you, hands pressed against the back of the chair, curling over the edge, “She’ll tell Nancy, and Robin—everyone, and we’ll be done.”

“I tried to like you,” Steve says suddenly, his now terrifyingly dark eyes locked on your own, “I really did.”

He steps closer, leaning over the front of your chair, leaving you sandwiched between the both of them, attempting to make yourself feel smaller—and maybe by some miracle, Eddie wasn’t lying; you might not die tonight.

“Now, try not to close your eyes,” Steve tells you, blade pressed carefully over the fabric of your shirt, the sharp prick of the knife seeping through, “it takes the fun out of it.”

Steve’s eyes are locked on yours, you don’t even recognize him, just the shell of a person you thought knew, unaware of the small nudging underneath the chair as Eddie slipped the knife in your hand, poised above you calmly. You grip the knife without hesitation, careful of making any sudden movements. Steve is dragging it out, thinking he has all the time in the world, until he doesn’t—the knife presses in at the same time yours is shoved through his abdomen, Eddie’s hands creeping up around the side of your face, directing your face to the point where the knife met his body, you shoved it deeper, twisting for that extra dose of pain, blood sputtering out of his mouth and into your face.

He stumbles back, hitting the full bookshelf as the books fall to the floor, his hand grasping weakly at the knife stuck in his abdomen, staring up at Eddie with wide, shocked eyes.

“Sorry, Harrington.” Eddie apologizes, “It was always her.”

The adrenaline hits you then, pushing away from the chair and stalking toward Steve, grabbing the knife and tanning it from where it was buried deep in his chest, savoring the way he yells out in pain, blood stained teeth gritting against each other as he clenched down.

“You stupid bitch,” Steve snaps weakly, your eyes narrow, knife pressing against his neck before you can stop yourself, “he’ll kill you—he doesn’t—doesn’t care about you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” You tell him sadly, gripping his hair to pull at his slumping head, “Eddie’s always been there for me.”

Steve opens his mouth again, but the words never fall, knife slicing the line of neck, rendering him voiceless, motionless, the blood and life draining from his eyes as he slumped down completely. It takes a moment for the emotions to settle, but when they do, you don’t feel the regret that you’re expecting, falling back on your hands as the knife clammers to the floor loudly.

“I just killed him,” You say out loud, not to any particular person or for any reason, needing to say it for it to feel real, “He’s dead.”

“And he was going to kill you,” Eddie reminds you, hands slipping underneath your arms to pull you upright, letting your body lean against him for a moment, “you did everything perfectly.”

“I just killed somebody.”

“I know.”

You take a small breath, inhaling through your nose, “Why don’t I feel bad?”

“I told you, sweetheart,” Eddie says, peering down to look at you, eyes shifting over to Chrissy and Steve’s lifeless bodies, “you’re like me.”

“It doesn’t feel right.” Your voice steadies, turning your head up to look at him. “I don’t—I’m not—“

“It gets easier,” Eddie says assuringly, “I’ll teach you.”

“What do we do?” You ask in a slight panic, having already fallen deep into Eddie’s hold—you didn’t have to kill Steve, but you did. You could’ve let him kill you, ended all of this—but you consciously decided against it, feeling that immediate surge of power as you inflicted that severe physical pain on him; normal people would feel disgust, regret, but you felt nothing.

Eddie had always been right, he just needed to show you why.

“I’m gonna clean this up,” Eddie tells you, “you’re gonna clean yourself up—and then you’re gonna find Nancy and Robin—I’m going to do everything I told you I would, sweetheart.”

“Be careful, Eddie.” You feel the need to remind him, “I can’t lose you.”

“We’re in this together now, sweetheart.” Eddie says with a strong sense of finality, “You trust me?”

“Always.” You reply without hesitation.

“Promise me.” He demands.

“I promise, Eddie.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #ghostface!eddie #my writing #1kfic

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