#from the trailer i got a little afraid that they were going to lean into the 'character with DID is so scary and dangerous' trope

[murderoftheuniverse]

ive only seen the first two major sequences (opening + monty) of sb ruin so far and i am. so excited but also so worried for what the fuck sun and moon are about to go through please let it be (somewhat) niceys to them please

[munsonsmixtapes]

Ok so, Eddie being possessive but wanting to mask it until he can't no more and when he gets to the house he ravishes you but the only thing that keeps him going is if you tell him all the things you like about him and how he makes you feel like the only 1

Um, yes, absolutely!

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) Eddie is a little possessive, jealousy

The bar was hazy as Eddie entered it. You were over at the bar, sipping on a margarita that you had just ordered. He made a beeline for you, weaving his way through all of the dancing bodies to get to you. A huge smile broke out on his face as he got closer, but that quickly dropped once he was you were talking to someone. And not just anyone. Steve. Fucking Steve.

If Eddie was going to say anything about Steve, it was that he had game. He could get anyone he wanted with a snap of a finger and Eddie was becoming afraid that you would have left with him and he couldn't have even blamed you. He wouldn't have. He was a very pretty man and shit, if Steve had hit on him, he wouldn't have hesitated to take the invitation.

Eddie's hand rested lightly on your back as he tried to swallow his jealousy like a large pill that wouldn't go down properly. You turned to him and gave him a warm smile before turning back to Steve who was in the middle of telling you a story.

Eddie grumbled something to himself as he sat to the left of you, deciding to order a beer if this was what the night was going to be like.

Despite your trying to keep your situationship with Eddie a secret, Steve was very much aware of what was going on, even going as far as flirting with you a little bit to get Eddie to admit his feelings for you that he was very well aware of his friend having.

He watched Eddie as he slowly reached up and fixed the strap of your tank top that had fallen down, his warm, honey eyes looking into yours as he put on a smile.

"Oh, thanks, Stevie," you smiled and Eddie swore that he was going to throw up right then and there. What did Steve have that Eddie didn't? Okay, maybe he had the flirting down, but being awkward was part of Eddie's charm.

"No problem," Steve winked then stood up from his stool, fixing his jean jacket as he did so. "I'll see you later, hon," he gave your shoulder a squeeze then turned to Eddie, giving him a nod. "Munson."

"Munson," Eddie mocked under his breath as soon as Steve was out of earshot. He then chugged the rest of his beer, knowing that he was going to need it in order to flirt with you. You turned to him, letting your strap fall once again, turning your shoulder to him as if to tease him.

He hated what you did to him. That you were able to make him feel so possessive, something that he never liked to be because you were never really his. Just a little fling that was bound to end sooner or later. But maybe if he told you just how he felt, you would admit that you wanted more too.

He leaned over, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder before fixing the strap, his lips making their way up your jaw, pressing a final kiss at the corner of your mouth. He then pulled away, and got off his stool, offering you his hand.

"Oh, are you finally going to be a gentleman?" You asked and he just chuckled, pulling you to his chest as he leaned down, his lips right by your ear.

"Oh sweetheart," he chuckled. "We both know I'm not a gentleman. I thought we settled that last night."

"I think I need a refresher," you replied and felt your cheeks get hot at his words and he took you by the hand, leading you to his van. He peeled out of his parking lot and sped down the street, desperate to have his way with you once again, never getting tired of it.

He pulled up to the trailer and put it in park before getting out and rounding the hood to help you out, but you were already inside, the door slamming behind you. He raced inside after you, grabbing hold of your wrist and turned you around to face him.

Without a word, he pressed his lips to yours taking no time to slip his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around yours as he pushed you back towards his room.

This wasn't unlike every other time you got tangled up in the sheets, but you couldn't help but notice that was something different about it in some way. He was more rough with you, grabbing onto you like you were going to disappear in that moment.

He pushed you down onto his bed, seeing you splayed out all for him, making his already hardened cock even harder. He wanted you to his and his alone. The thought of you even looking in Steve's direction made him see red.

Eddie leaned down, pressing a brief kiss to your lips before diving into your neck, peppering the spot in kisses.

"Can't believe you were with him," he said, not able to look you in the eyes as he admitted it. “You’re mine, you know that?”

"And I can't believe you were jealous," you responded and he was quick to pull back to look at you, not liking how easy you were able to clock that fact. “And yes, of course I know that. If looks could kill, Steve would have been dead." Eddie's cheeks went pink at that. "And there's no need to be upset, pretty boy," you pat his cheek lightly.

"And why's that?" He leaned closer, knowing exactly why, but wanting to hear you say it. You could that teasing look on his face, his eyelashes batting in an innocent manner.

"You know why,” you quirked any eyebrow.

"Tell me, doll.”

"I like you."

"Yeah? And what do you like about me? For every reason, I’ll give you a kiss.” That sounded very tempting.

“I like your hair,” you told him and he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips just like he promised. “It’s so curly and I love how it’s always messy.” He pressed two more kisses to your lips then pulled away, a goofy grin making its away upon his lips.

“What else?” He asked, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You’re sweet. Probably the sweetest man I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah?” Another kiss. “Sweeter than Harrington?”

“You don’t have to be jealous, Eddie,” you said again, batting your lashes.

“I don’t? But-”

“I’m yours, Munson. All yours.” You leaned up and slowly pulled off your tank top and Eddie’s eyes widened as he realized that you hadn’t been wearing a bra underneath. “Go ahead,” you took his hand and pulled it up to your breast. “Have your way with me.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he responded, pressing his lips to yours again, this time rougher, letting his tongue slip into your mouth, letting it swirl around yours before taking off his own shirt.

“Yeah? And what are you going to do about it? Gonna finally call me yours?”

“You bet your ass I am,” replied as his hands moved down to unbutton your pants. He pulled them down in one swift motion and gasped as he realized that he wasn’t wearing any underwear either.

“Look at you. Wet as fuck and it’s all for me.” He then reached for a condom out of his drawer that was attached to his bedside table and removed his jeans and boxers before rolling the condom onto his cock, taking no time to pound it into you.

You moaned so loudly that Eddie had to cover your mouth so you wouldn’t wake up Wayne. You looked up at him, listening to still very much in your eyes.

“Gotta be quiet for me, doll. Can you be quiet?” You nodded and Eddie removed his hand moving it back down to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin as he continued to fuck into you.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you said, lowering your voice. “You don’t have to be so possessive, you know. I mean, I like it. A lot. But you don’t have to be jealous of Steve or anyone else. I want you.”

In that moment, everything stopped. The motions, your low moans. Eddie looked down at you, a smile kicking up at the corners.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, fuck yeah,” he nodded, pounding into you once more, watching your body move with his, eating up the way he could make you come undone.

You were already seeing stars and he could tell, loving how quick he could always get you there, but now he could do it any time he wanted since you now belonged to each other, attached to each other in more ways than one.

“Holy shit,” a scream ripped through you and you were no longer able to hold it in. Your back arched as you gripped the sheets below, followed by another scream. Once you came down from your orgasm, Eddie helped you lay back down on the mattress.

He then pulled out and disposed of the condom before collapsing onto the bed beside you. He pulled you to his chest and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You and me, doll?” He asked.

“Yeah, Eddie,” you nodded. “You and me.”

[munsoninthedark86]

Kinktober 2022 Day 8: Threesomes(Three's A Crowd? Nah)

warnings: smut, threesome, unprotected sex, Steddie!, mentions of alcohol and weed, fellatio, vaginal fingering, swearing pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader x Eddie Munson/ Steddie x Fem!Reader word count: 1.7k

The three of you sit in the living room of Eddie’s trailer. You’re seated on the floor, your back against the couch. Eddie sits on the armchair and he is sipping his beer. Steve has just returned to the room, two beers in his hand. He throws you yours, and you catch it with ease. It’s been a good few months since Eddie’s close call in the upside down. You were so fucking worried about him when they all returned without him. But Dustin had begged and pleaded for someone to go save Eddie, and you and Steve ended up being the ones to save the metalhead.

“Ahh, what a great way to spend Saturday night.” You croon softly.

Eddie laughs, “What? Drinking my beer and smoking my weed?”

You scoff, “And who saved your ass?”

Steve frowns as he begins drinking his beer. He knows that you’re teasing one another, but he was so afraid of losing either one of you when you and Steve went to save Eddie. The worst thoughts and scenarios went through his mind when he realized he might never see the charming dungeon master ever again. He’d have to console you. But now, with the two of you here, maybe Steve can finally tell you how he feels about the two of you.

“Fine fine,” Eddie ceases his jabbing. “You’re both welcome to my beer and my weed.”

You smirk, “Awhh thanks Eds!”

He blushes at your nickname for him, “anything for you, dollface.”

You look over at Steve, who seems incredibly lost in thought. You don’t want to interrupt the thought process, but you are a little concerned. So you lean up and sit on the couch with Steve, and you place a hand on his shoulder. He jumps a little from the touch, but he’s happy that it’s just you. Steve has been through so much in the last few years, he has grown a little jumpy.

“Cat got your tongue, babycakes?” You ask him, your tone flirty.

He sighs before chugging half his beer, “No. I’m just so happy that you two are alive.”

You smile, “Hear that, Eds? He’s happy we are alive.”

Eddie laughs, “Awhh Harrington! I didn’t know you felt that way about me.”

But something snaps inside of Steve, he is ready to bare his soul to both of you. A near death experience to one of his favorite people will do that to him. He leans over to you and he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You’re rendered speechless, and Eddie isn’t really sure what to say either. The kiss deepens a little and you come closer to Steve. Eddie feels something deep down inside of him growing. Watching Steve kiss you is proving to be almost a little too much.

“What’s going on, Harrington?”

Steve is a little breathless when he pulls away from the kiss, “Look when you were down there…in the upside down, it practically wrecked the both of us, Eddie. Now that you’re back, and you’re both safe…I just want to show you what you both mean to me.”

Steve doesn’t hesitate to pull you onto his lap. He begins kissing you once more, and you can feel his love and passion coming out with every little move he makes. He’s gentle when he pushes some of your hair out of your face. It’s not long before Eddie comes to sit next to the both of you.

“Yeah? You were that worried for me, huh?” Eddie asks him, and he reaches down to take Steve’s hand in his.

“Like you wouldn’t fucking believe, Munson.”

This warms your heart. You’ve always had a crush on Eddie, and when you met Steve, you were immediately drawn to him. You knew of him, but you were never formally introduced until last year. Steve was charming and sweet and you could tell he has changed a lot since he “king” Steve.

You can’t keep your eyes off the pair. Steve leans in a little closer to Eddie, and soon he closes the gap between the two of them. Eddie lets out a sweet moan when they begin making out. You are truly mesmerized by the sight.

“Shit,” Eddie says breathlessly. “You are such a good kisser, Harrington.”

Steve smirks, “Yeah, I’ve got a lot of practice.”

This prompts you to pull Steve in for a kiss. His hands come up to tangle in your hair as you begin to grind against him. This leaves Eddie a little impatient, so when he gets his chance, he pulls you onto his lap and you begin kissing him.

“Fuck baby,” Eddie moans. “Feels like we’re in high school all over again. ‘Member when we used to sneak off in third period to have a quickie in the forest? Mmm, fuck your little pussy was so good back then.”

You slap his chest playfully, “And it’s not good now?”

Steve and Eddie share a mischievous glance. You’re almost a little worried about what they have planned, but you don’t have much time to react before Eddie gets up and throws you over his shoulder. Steve is following behind you two. Eddie brings you into his bedroom and he tosses you onto the bed. It’s not long before he’s crawling on top of you.

“Let’s see if her little pussy is still good, Harrington.”

Steve watches from the doorway for a few moments. Eddie begins undressing you, and he caresses your body wherever he finds exposed skin. His cold metal rings feel so soothing on your hot body. Steve finally comes into the bedroom and he leans down to kiss you. While Eddie continues undressing you and exploring the rest of your body, Steve is playing with your tits.

“You are so fucking adorable,” Eddie mutters as he finally pull

You’re blushing now, “Don’t say shit like that.”

Eddie moans as he parts your thighs. You're so sticky and so wet. His tongue pokes out of his mouth as he is practically drooling at the sight of your glistening pussy. He takes a few moments to adjust his rock hard cock in his jeans before leaning back in to inhale your sweetness. Steve groans when he sees the full sight of you naked.

“Jesus,” Eddie grunts. “Fuck you’re just as beautiful as the day I fell in love with you.”

You giggle, “Yeah? When did you fall in love with me?”

Eddie blushes, “The day we met.”

Steve coos at your softness. He never knew how deeply infatuated you two were with each other. Steve leans in to kiss Eddie, and Eddie groans. All of this pleasure is going to culminate into something very passionate and explosive soon. When Eddie pulls away from Steve, this is when Steve takes his chance and begins kissing you.

“He’s right. You are as beautiful as the day I fell in love with you,” Steve confesses. “You’re both beautiful.”

The two of them get off the bed and help each other strip. Your mouth is watering as you watch them begin making out. Steve reaches down to begin stroking Eddie. Eddie squeaks but that soon turns into a guttural moan.

“You’re so cute, Munson.” You quip, and he flips you off.

Steve guides Eddie to join you on the bed. Steve kneels in front of your face and he begins stroking his thick cock. You feel yourself get even more wet; aroused and left wanting from watching Eddie and Steve. You let out a surprised moan when you feel Eddie’s fingers at your entrance.

“How about we find out just exactly how good she is together?” Steven asks Eddie, and Eddie nods his head eagerly.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Eddie grunts. “I love that big brain of yours, Harrington.”

Steve chuckles, “I’ve had a few good ideas in my day.”

You’re about to say something when Steve pushes the head of his cock to your lips. You whine softly before suckling on it, making him groan. Eddie watches in a daze, all while rubbing your clit so teasingly. Soon he can’t help himself, and he grasps his cock. It twitches against your pussy and he thrust it between your soaked folds.

“Just fuck her already, Munson. Show her you meant it when you said you love her.”

Eddie smiles softly, “You’re right.”

The metalhead slips into you slowly, whining at how tightly your walls are clamping down on him. When he’s bottomed out and his balls are plush against your ass, it’s only now that Steve begins thrusting into your mouth. The two of them work in tandem; coaxing you towards your release. Eddie’s long cock keeps rubbing up against your sweet spot, making you see stars.

“Shit, you feel good.” Eddie moans, and Steven grunts in response.

“Good little mouth on her,”

This makes you blush. You are having a hard time not choking on Steve’s thick cock, but he keeps praising you. These soft words fall from his mouth, while Eddie can only grunt nonsense between his panting and whining. If he was with anyone else, he’d be so embarrassed to sound like that. But with the two of you, he knows he can feel safe.

Eddie’s long fingers trail down your body, stopping only to begin rubbing your clit in sloppy circles. You moan around Steve’s cock, making him shudder at the wonderful vibrations that pass right through his cock. He doesn’t know if he’ll actually be able to hold on for much longer.

“Fuck,” Eddie whines. “Fuck fuck fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum if she keeps squeezing me with that cunt of hers.”

Steve moans, “Yeah, I’m close too.”

Eddie looks down at you, “You close too, baby?”

With the nod of your head, the two men begin doubling down on their efforts. It’s not long before your walls begin wildly fluttering, and you are shuddering and shaking. Steve moans as his balls tighten first, and you and Steve fall off the edge together. Eddie isn’t long after, cumming hard with loud curses falling from those pretty lips.

Warmth fills you as Eddie and Steve both paint your inside white. You swallow every last bit of Steve’s cum as your cunt receives Eddie’s hot load. As they both come down, they pull out of you gently. Steve lays beside you as Eddie goes to the bathroom to get you something to clean you up with.

Steve pulls you closer, “I’m so glad I didn’t lose you. I’m glad I didn’t lose either of you.”

[midnightsxxvi]

the picnic blanket

Steddie x fem!reader

a/n: I somehow hit 500 followers a while back (I block bots I swear) somehow despite not posting any of my writing in months (I’m mentally ill. Idk what to tell you). So anyway here’s a little something!

header image from littleststarfightter (I asked for permission i promise)

description: first real date with the three of you, each ready to really make this work

contains: mentions of injury (vecna happened but everyone lived); hints to sexual content MDNI 18+ !!!; a lot of soft vibes and a tinge of angst. Post Vecna/everyone lives!!

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“I would like to go on a date,” You finally let out after gathering up all your confidence. You stood tall, hands clasped together, chin up. 

Steve was already grinning like an idiot, but Eddie just raised a brow. 

There was a beat of silence before Eddie let out a long whistle. He then looked back and forth between you and Steve. “A date? Like… all three of us?” 

“Yes, that’s what I mean.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Alright, Princess. A date it is. What were you thinking of doing?”

“Um,” your cheeks heated, “Well this is about as far as my thinking went— hey, don’t laugh. Why are you—listen, if you don’t want to it’s okay! We don’t have to! I know we haven’t really decided what’s going on between the three of us—“

“Sweetheart,” Eddie cut you off, getting to his feet and walking over to you. “I said yes. You’re just being cute.” 

“Oh. Well. What would you like to do then?”

“Dinner and a movie? A classic.”

“I’m not—“ Steve interrupted, briefly holding his hand out but then stepping back nervously. He cleared his throat, and at first you thought he was turning you down, but he explained: “I’m not ready. To, uh, be out? This is a small town and I don’t want to worry about others yet, you know? I don’t know if that sounds shitty of me—“

“It’s not shitty,” you assured him. “You’re right. Dustin will never shut up about this if word gets to him.”

Eddie smirked, “I'm pretty sure Dustin already knows we are a thing?”

“Pssh, no he doesn’t,” Steve scoffed. Although he didn’t quite believe his own words. 

“We could do a drive in movie?” Eddie suggested. 

Steve leaned against the counter. “And have one of us third wheel in the back the whole time? No thanks.”

Eddie winked at him, “Squish into the back seat with me.”

“Uh, then we can’t see the movie?”

“Feelin’ shy now?” 

You pursed your lips, hating how frazzled Steve looked. Out of all of you, he had the most to lose if it came to the wrong person seeing you three together. Together, together. People knew his parents; they had a reputation. He didn’t know how they’d take him being queer, in whatever the sense. 

“Stevie, if you don’t want to come, it’s okay. We don’t have to do something—“

“No, no,” he raised his hands up a little, afraid that you were already backing out. Then, he snapped his fingers in the literal sense. “Let’s go on a picnic.” 

Eddie snorted. “A picnic?”

“Don't look at me like that. It’s romantic.” Steve’s ears blushed at the word. Who knew he’d get so flustered about wanting to give the two of you a little romance. 

He approached you and Eddie, still nervous, but he seemed more sure of this. “We could pack snacks, maybe some wine? Be nice and classy?”

You bit back a grin. “We could find somewhere private. Get out of this damn trailer. Maybe go by one of the lakes?”

Eddie looked between you two, an entertained grin on his face. “Didn’t know you two were so cheesy?”

Steve laughed lightly, “So what?”

Eddie swung his arm around Steve, one of his fingers playing with a curl at the end of Steve’s hair. “Why don’t we go all out and go to Lover’s Lake?”

“I mean, if you really want to,” Steve teased, although he was grinning like an idiot again. He didn’t back up as Eddie’s face got closer into his space. He just accepted Eddie’s nose as it nudged his cheek. 

“Okay, so. Picnic at Lover’s Lake?” You wanted to clarify. “A date. In a romantic sense. The three of us.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Eddie smiled at you brightly. 

“Then, um, let’s talk logistics.”

“Now, that doesn’t sound romantic.”

You giggled a little and shook it off. “I just mean, when should we go! Do we all meet up and go together? Or, I don’t know! What time of day? Who brings the snacks!”

Eddie reached out, his arm around your shoulders as well, pulling you in toward the two men. “Now, sweetheart, relax. We’ve got it covered. I’ll pick up snacks. You bring drinks. Stevie here can drive and maybe bring a blanket.”

“I don’t have a picnic blanket,” Steve told him. 

“Then get one. You’re the one who suggested this.”

“Alright, alright.  I can pick you both up, and drive the three of us out. Are you both free tomorrow afternoon?”

“I don’t work?” You shrugged. 

“Same,” Eddie said, “And classes are done for the semester.”

“Can I take you both out tomorrow then?” Steve looked at the both of you. His normal self was coming back, ready to charm. “I don’t think I can wait more than a day. I’ve been wanting something like this for a long time.”

You pressed your lips together. Your heart thudded a little stronger, absorbing the sweet smile on his face. His words were so soft that you couldn’t help but reach over and kiss his cheek. 

“I’d love to, Stevie. Tomorrow sounds perfect.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Steve didn’t say hello, but instead, the moment you opened your door he said, “The picnic blanket I got is going to woo you.”

“Woo me?” You grinned, trying not to ogle too much at his appearance. Standing on your front porch under the midday sun, he looked like summer personified. Steve had on his swim shorts, and a light blue button up. The cherry on top was the way a few buttons were undone, and the soft hair on his chest poked out from underneath the blue.

Steve seemed to ogle you though. He glanced at your summery outfit, admiring your figure, and he couldn’t even remember what else he was going to say.

“Steve?”

“Sorry. Uh. You look good,” he cleared his throat. “You ready to go?”

A quick nod, you got on your shoes, and then you were following him out.

“Eddie is in the car,” he explained, although you could see the guy sitting in the front of Steve’s car. “We made a deal where I’d go to the door to pick you up, and then he could walk you to the door later when we drop you off.”

“How polite.”

Steve had glitched a moment ago when seeing you, but his confidence was back again and he swung his arm over your shoulder as you walked to the car. In his head, he was hoping that later they wouldn’t actually be dropping you off at home but instead taking you back to his or Eddie’s place. He was being polite though, so he kept those thoughts to himself.

The car windows were rolled down, and Eddie had both his arms leaning out, a big grin plastered on his face. He had his hair down, but some dark sunglasses and you could see a black tank top on.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” He called out to you, raising his sunglasses onto his head. He wasn’t shy in the way he looked you up and down, and then even looked Steve up and down. “You two look hot as hell together. Look at you, beach bag and all? Have we ever dressed this classy?”

You giggled as you got closer to the car. “Nope. This is my classiest outfit.”

Eddie extended his hand out, grasping the air and giving grabby hands. “C’mere.”

Steve let you leave from under his arm, and you skipped forward to hold Eddie’s hand. Eddie pulled you in right away, his other hand holding the back of your head to get you even closer.

You had to bend down a bit, falling into a searing kiss. It took you a little by surprise, how he held you to him, his lips moving against yours warmly.

It wasn’t the first time you’d kissed, but it wasn’t something you were used to yet. Your tummy fluttered and you worried that your hands were already clammy, especially in the heat of the sun.

When he pulled back, his grin only increased at your soft expression. The grin then increased somehow even more when his eyes flickered behind you to see Steve’s reaction.

“Hey,” Steve was glaring, “You get her at drop off.”

“You completed your duty of picking her up!”

“I’m not property,” you huffed, feigning insult.

“Of course not,” Eddie’s thumb traced over the back of your hand. “You do have to sit in the back of the car though. Sorry.”

Your mouth parted in the exasperation as he let go of your hand, sat back in the car and then put on his sunglasses as though nothing happened.

You turned to look at Steve who looked apologetic but wasn’t denying Eddie’s claim.

Steve’s hand found the small of your back, and his other opened the back door for you like a gentleman. “Sorry. You can switch on the way back. Promise.”

“I guess that’s alright.”

Just then, Eddie turned the music up on the stereo, causing Steve to roll his eyes as some Van Halen song played. Still, Steve gave your cheek a quick kiss before you got into the car.

And like that, the three of you were off to begin your very first date.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

It was early July, a few months after you all escaped the Upside Down; escaped Vecna. It hadn’t been long ago, yet in that time, everyone worked through a lot of healing. Some things may never heal, but you’d be damned if you let the trauma stop you from enjoying the sunshine again.

Time had eased the physical pain inflicted upon Steve and Eddie in the spring. Still, their bodies had been prodded at, wounded, bitten. Steve still shied away from showing anyone the wound spread across his stomach, and Eddie was still anxious about the scabbed flesh around his legs. He still had a limp when he walked, and it still hurt to cough.

You didn’t notice until each of you piled out of the car, that Eddie had put on shorts for the first time all season. They weren’t short like Steve’s, but instead he had ripped some pants just above the knee.

Back when Eddie first got injured, covered in bandages at the hospital, he had cracked some joke on how he’d ‘tell people in the future that the scars are from shark attacks.’ Plural. Not just one. But he insisted that he’d tell people he was involved in multiple shark attacks. That was quite hardcore, in his eyes.

“Babe,” Steve called, although you weren’t sure if he meant you or Eddie. Probably both. “Let me show you this spiffy blanket.”

Eddie was not helping you grab the picnic basket and snacks he’d so kindly bought. He took out a cigarette from Steve’s glove box that he’d created a habit of storing. Steve didn’t mind. Walking to the back of the car, Eddie smoked and watched the both of you.

“I’m swooning,” you grinned when Steve swung the blanket over his shoulder. It was a soft green gingham fabric, and Steve looked very proud of himself.

“You better be. I worked so hard to find this. I needed to make sure you had the best place to sit.”

Eddie raised a brow at that, the corner of his mouth upturning as he thought about Steve’s words differently.

Steve slammed the trunk shut and patted the car’s exterior. “Alright, let’s find us a good spot!”

Eddie was smooth in the way he grabbed drinks from you to free one of your hands, and then he put his free arm around your shoulders. He had to reach his hand sort of above your head to get the cigarette from his mouth and whisper to you, “I didn’t know he was so chipper about the lake.”

It was a sight to see: Steve had dashed ahead of you two, sandals flapping away as he ran closer to the lake. You let out a breathy giggle, snuggling into Eddie’s side.

He put the cigarette back in his mouth and the two of you strolled toward Steve.

“Hey, Eds?” You said quietly.

“Hm?”

“Is this a mistake, coming here?”

He had to do the hand maneuver again, pulling your head toward him a bit as he had to grab his smoke. It was clumsy, but it worked. “No, I told you, I want us to have a date.”

“No, I mean here specifically.”

“Oh.”

Oh, as in, Oh, this lake could possibly bring up memories I’m trying to heal from.

Eddie clicked his tongue and you could see the way his eyes squinted under his glasses, staring at the water.

“No,” he finally said. “It’s okay. I mean, I suggested it, didnt I? It’s different in the day, plus…” Eddie looked your way, his hard stare softening, “Plus, there’s nothing we need to run from, is there?”

“No,” you agreed.

“Now, are you okay with being here?”

“With you? Always.”

“Oh shit,” he grinned, teasing you a bit, “You flatter me.”

You shied away, smiling against his shoulder.

Ahead, Steve was clapping. Seriously. The guy clapped his hands before putting them on his hips and calling out, “Come on, slackers! Skedaddle over!”

“Relax, Harrington!” Eddie called back, “We’ve got all day.”

Still, Steve was satisfied to see that both of you actually did speed it up a bit, bringing over everything.

The three of you placed your things around the picnic blanket. You had a beach bag, Eddie brought a literal basket with food inside, and a pack of beers. Steve had also brought along towels for himself and Eddie, and threw in extra clothes because even though Eddie insisted he wasn’t going in the water, Steve thought just in case.

“Did you both put on sunscreen?” Steve asked, on his knees as he looked through the picnic basket. He didn’t pull anything out yet; he was just getting a look at what Eddie brought, mentally rating it in his head.

“Nope,” you said.

“Absolutely not,” Eddie said.

Steve raised his gaze at both of you. “Mhm. Not surprised. Good thing papa Steve brought along plenty.”

“I see we’re talking in third person now,” Eddie commented with a grin, resting his back on the blanket. You saw the reflection of the trees and blue sky in the lenses of his glasses.

“Please don’t call yourself papa?” You added.

Eddie shook a finger in your general direction. “Nah, you see, I don’t hate that.”

Steve was smirking to himself, finding the sunblock he’d packed.

You took a spot beside Eddie, your bare legs enjoying the feel of the blanket. There wasn’t a breeze today, only the hot sun and the calm waves on the lake.

Steve had been closer to Eddie, shifting nearer and holding the sunblock. He leaned his head over Eddie’s and said, “Can you do it yourself or do you require assistance?”

Eddie reached up and pinched Steve’s cheek. “I was hoping you’d ask. Lather me up, sugar.”

Steve’s smile reached his eyes. He gently took off Eddie’s sunglasses so that he could put the lotion on his face.

Steve gently smoothed it over, starting at Eddie’s nose and then his cheeks in strokes and saying, “One of my babysitters when I was like, I don’t know, six? She told me to apply sunscreen to my face like a bunny.”

“I beg your pardon?” Eddie muttered, not wanting to move, and in awe of Steve’s close face.

“Put a bit on the nose first— see, you’re even doing the bunny nose scrunch thing.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are! Then let me just make your little bunny whiskers, and bunny ears,” he applied some to Eddie’s forehead, “And beautiful!”

“Aren’t you supposed to rub it in?”

“Yeah, but I think you look kinda cute with your bunny nose.”

Eddie broke out of his little trance and started rubbing his nose himself, “Yeah, yeah.”

Steve sat up on his knees again, “Now up. Lemme get your back.”

“I have a shirt on.”

“But you still have skin exposed?”

“My hair covers it.”

Steve sighed and shook his head. “Why do you have to be difficult? Your shoulders are visible! You’re a pale guy! You’ll burn!”

“I don’t want to get up, I’m comfy.”

“Christ,” Steve huffed and Eddie only beamed.

You got involved by placing your fingers delicately on Eddie’s shoulder. Your nails snuck under the fabric on the sleeve, and you grazed the skin underneath his top. His eyes flickered your way in an instant.

“What if Steve puts on mine first?” You offer.

“So, we’re making deals like children, now?” Steve muttered to himself.

You tilted your head, glancing at Steve, “I think that’d help Eddie, don’t you, Stevie?”

Eddie wasn’t confirming nor denying. As far as you know, he was not going to let anyone put sunscreen on him, and he would harm his skin more than it needed to be. He just laid back, pushing his sunglasses back to their spot, and he smoked what was left of his cigarette.

“C‘mere,” Steve leaned back and gestured to the space beside him. You obliged of course, stepping over Eddie to get there.

With your back to Steve, you sat, and started undoing your top.

Because you really didn’t want some silence to go along with the stares you could feel on your skin, you asked, “You two going for a swim today? I think it’s too nice out not to.”

You felt Steve’s hand brush your shoulders, gently moving hair away from your neck as you dropped your shirt to the ground.

“Maybe,” he muttered. “You want me to?”

You took a peak at him over your shoulder, “I’d love it. But you don’t have to. I’m a big girl. I can handle floating alone.”

You went back to looking at the lake. Where you guys had found space, you were in a quiet area, far from other beach-goers. The lake hadn’t been as lively with people as it was last summer, considering what had just occurred here months before. Things like that reasonably gave a majority of people the heebie jeebies. And the public didn’t even know the half of it.

But out of spite, against all the shit the three of you went through, you couldn’t let beautiful places be ruined.

“Maybe I’ll eat first,” Steve declared. “A-and then, Yunno, they say you shouldn’t swim right after eating. Maybe it’s just not my day!”

Still lying down, Eddie asked, “Why do they even say that?”

“Actually, I don’t know?”

You heard the lotion being squished out onto Steve’s hand. Soon after, the cold of it tickled your back, and he started applying it properly.

Those hands of his were large enough to easily cover a lot of space rather quickly. He massaged the sunblock in, taking special care to your upper back and shoulders. It felt good, having his warm hands on you like that. So good that you let your eyes fall closed, and leaned into his touch.

He worked on your skin carefully, his fingers finding every exposed spot on your back. You hummed when he touched the back of your neck, and hummed again when his fingers glided over your shoulder. Both of his hands worked then, moving to your chest, fingers grazing your collarbones.

Then, he drew his hands back, but they didn’t go far. He tapped at your waist and demanded in a quiet voice, “Turn around.”

You got to your knees, shifting to face him.

Steves hands were back on you in an instant, the sunblock being spread over your chest first. Steve continued onto every exposed area even though you were perfectly capable of doing it yourself.

It was when he started applying sunblock to your thighs that you giggled. “Stevie, I can get it.”

“I know. But I want to.”

Your cheeks already felt warm, but his comment had you biting back a smile. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you decided to pick up the sunscreen bottle that rested on his lap. He paid no mind at first until you applied a little onto your hand, and brought your fingers to his face.

Steve’s nose scrunched but he was smiling. His eyes found yours, the brown looking light and sparkling with the sun. “Hey.”

“Little bunny,” you told him, dabbing some on his noses and then covering his cheeks the same way he’d done to Eddie. “Adorable.”

Steve seemed to have completed his work on you for now, and both his hands rested on your waist. “I hate to break it to you but I already put sunscreen on.”

“You can never be too safe,” you shrugged. You gently massaged it into his face, aware that he was watching your eyes the entire time.

You were aware that Eddie was also very much watching the entire interaction. Even though he had his sunglasses on, his curious eyes followed you.

“There,” you said softly as the sunscreen was rubbed in properly on his face, leaving behind just a glimmering warmth to Steve’s skin. “All done.”

“Thank you, bunny,” he let out just as gently, without giving it a second though.

You pressed your lips together and hummed. Your eyes fell to his lips. You realized you were a lot closer to each other than you’d thought. Steve’s tongue darted out to lick his lips.

There was a hand that started touching your upper thigh, and it took you a moment to realize it was Eddie’s. His fingers rubbed into the plush skin for just a moment before he rested a little lower. “Missed a spot,” he said casually. His hand didn’t leave your leg.

Steve eyed Eddie’s hand, locked on your sweet thighs. So much of you was bared to both of them, and they were getting tired of holding back from soaking you in.

Steve then moved away, sitting up on the towel, leaning back on his palms. “Eddie?”

Eddie’s hand was just above the knee, but felt burning hot anyway. It was the way he held you firmly, fingers not shy, and the way you could feel him stare from behind his dark shades. “Steve?” He said low.

“Sit up. Let me put on your sunscreen.”

Eddie groaned, “Fine.”

Steve smirked, watching Eddie sit up. You sat to the side, missing Eddie’s hand as he moved.

Eddie wasn’t hesitant with Steve, he just hadn’t had his skin so bare since everything happened, and it was new to him to have someone see this up close. But he trusted you, and he trusted Steve. The sun lotion squirted onto Steve’s hand, but he touched Eddie’s shoulder with his dry hand first. You noticed the subtle way Eddie jumped at the touch, but quickly eased up.

“I’m going to start on your arm, okay?”

Eddie mumbled a “sure,” and embraced Steve’s hands, gliding across his skin.

The process was sweet to watch. Eddie was growing comfortable, and Steve’s fingers spread on every inch of skin, gentle and smooth. He inched to his shoulders, fingers peaking under the fabric of Eddie’s top. Steve did his best to go around, wanting Eddie’s neck covered. Eddie had never let him touch him there. No one had, in this new body of his.

But it was Steve. And you were you.

“Is this a good time to tell you I’m nervous?” Eddie broke the silence, cutting through the sound of the lake’s current.

Steve didn’t falter. “About?”

“This. All of it.” Eddie huffed out a laugh that didn’t hold much humour.

“Us?” Steve said, and it was like a first verbal acknowledgment mdent that there was an us you all shared. He didn’t stop his hands though. He didn’t want Eddie to think he needed to shy away.

“A little. But I trust you. Both of you.”

Steve had been finishing up Eddie’s other arm, and he tried to grasp what Eddie was saying. Setting aside the lotion for a moment, Steve leaned and pressed a kiss to Eddie’s shoulder.

Surprising you, Eddie’s hand found your thigh again. Your eyes found his, but his quickly fluttered closed when Steve gave a second kiss against the nook of Eddie’s neck.

“Can we try to get in the water?” Eddie said airily.

“Can I take this off then?” Steve tugged lightly at the fabric of Eddie’s tank top. “You don’t have to, but I think I’d like it if you did.”

Eddie smirked, joking away his insecurities. “You think you’d like it, huh?”

“Shut up,” Steve kissed his shoulder again, jusy longer this time.

“You’ll finish getting all this sunscreen on me, big boy?”

“If you’ll have me.”

Eddie pulled aside so that he could glance at Steve. “You’re such a sucker. Steve Harrington. My oh my.”

Steve rolled his eyes but smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah. Take your top off.”

“So demanding,” Eddie clicked his tongue. Still, despite his teasing tone, his hands fiddled with the hem of his top.

You scooted over, your hand placing over one of his. You hadn’t noticed the slight shake. Wordlessly, you were an offering hand that he accepted. He helped you lift his shirt above his stomach, over his shoulder, then off his head.

Steve licked his lips. He grabbed the lotion.

Eddie watched you watch him. He wanted to shy away but let it happen. He let you happen.

You remembered the way his body was torn up before. You expected it to look painful and raw, but you didn’t expect to be so in awe of it all.

One of the toughest spots was by his bellybutton, and the other on the left of his chest. Still red and harsh, under healing skin. But he had his freckles, he had the ridges where his body flexed under the skin. It was all him. He wasn’t someone to shy away from.

“Can I?” Steve asked, gesturing to the lotion.

“Yes.”

Steve delicately applied to Eddie’s back first, then his torso, which felt more intimate somehow.

You let them have the moment, choosing to stand up instead. You stretched out your body, secretly enjoying the way the two of them couldn’t help their wandering eyes.

“Now, where are you going?” Eddie asked.

“To take a dip. Come over when you’re ready, lover boys.”

You heard Steve chuckle, but you were already stepping to the lake.

The sun somehow already felt warmer against your skin than it had when you all arrived. It hadn’t even been that long, but it was like summer was giving you a hug, saying it’s hello’s.

You kicked your sandals aside, stepping cautiously on the rough sand. A few steps, and you dipped your toes in the water. It was refreshing and gave you a shiver. The excitement of it all killed you. Things would be okay after everything that happened. Things were already okay.

Steve and Eddie eventually joined you, the two of them close at each other’s side. You turned, glancing at both of them.

“Gimme a sec,” Eddie said. He stood back a bit, brows furrowed at the shoreline. He watched each rise and fall, staring at it as though the pattern would change and everything was ruined.

You let him have the space he needed. You found Steve’s gaze.

You extended your hand to him, “Come in. It’s not too bad.”

Steve scrunched his nose, not quite believing you but grabbing your hand anyways. He stepped forward, following your lead. A hiss left his lips from the temperature change before he adjusted. “Not too bad?”

“You’re so dramatic,” you giggled, bringing him in more.

He squeaked your name when he followed in to his ankles. Then his shins. Then above his knees. His shoulders were tense, but as he kicked his legs around he relaxed.

“Yeah?” You raised a brow.

He hummed. “Okay, this is nice.”

“Yes.”

He gave your hand a squeeze. “I think it’s refreshing.”

While you two had this moment, you hadn’t realized that Eddie had inched forward on his own. He hadn’t waited for you; he wanted to take this step without the help.

He also made a noise as his toes touched the water. You and Steve watched for a moment. Steve walked in deeper, the ends of his fingers grazing the water. He soon started to splash around. The water hit your body causing you to giggle and kick water his way.

“I—“ Eddie’s voice caught in his throat as he looked down at the water enveloping his feet. It tickled at his ankles, and Eddie tucked some hair behind his ear. “I don’t want to go further.”

“That’s cool,” Steve shrugged with a little smile on his face. “This is as far as you need. You can officially say you went in the lake.”

Eddie cracked a smile. A tinge in his eye looked like he was proud of himself. It wasn’t in him to admit that though.

You stepped up beside him and touched your hand against his waist. “Eddie?”

“Hm?” He faced you fully. With your touch, he subconsciously stepped closer to you, facing the shore. He felt a flutter in his stomach as you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him closer, his feet only feeling the edge of the water.

“Summer looks good on you.”

He gave you a bit of a lopsided grin. “And what does that entail exactly? Do tell.”

“The sun makes ya all sweaty and stuff,” you grinned wide as his hands moved to your hips. “It’s hot.”

“Something is seriously wrong with you.”

He tickled your sides a bit causing you to laugh, stepping even closer to him. The water tickled your toes as you stood taller. Through a smile, you leaned in to him. His skin was sweaty and warm, sure, and you had never seen him so— “You’re kinda beautiful, Yunno?” You told him, your thoughts spitting out.

“You’re beautiful,” he said back, his voice breathier than before.

Your nose nudged his. His fingers dipped against your skin. And then you kissed him. Safe and warm, and all that you hoped this summer would be.

***

[jordanrosenburg]

Argylle - A Breath of Fresh Air

**Spoilers Ahead**

I just got back from seeing Argylle with a friend. I knew I had wanted to see it because I like a lot of the actors in it, but I had seen the trailer so many times that I felt like I had already watched it.

That trailer couldn't have prepared me for the unadulterated fun I was about to have. Every other line out of Sam Rockwell's mouth was laugh out loud funny. What kept me drawn in, though, was the editing. The splices between Rockwell and Cavill was seamless. I know with modern technology, they easily could have greenscreened a lot of it, but it still must have taken a while to film all the same fight scenes in the same exact way to make the cuts as seamless as they were.

The score and soundtrack were brilliant. Between the funky tunes used for the fight scenes, and the dramatic notes used during what would be dramatic in a regular spy thriller, had me enjoying every minute. I will be looking up the soundtrack playlist on Spotify and listening repeatedly.

Henry Cavill is no stranger to playing a spy. In between Superman movies, Cavill starred in The Man from U.N.C.L.E. The latter was another movie that didn't mind being silly and wasn't afraid to have its comedic moments. Because Cavill has played so many daring roles over the years, where he's been the hero or the brute or even just the eye candy, he was the perfect fit for Argylle. You can tell he was having a blast, and not taking things too seriously. The audience isn't supposed to take it seriously either. The Argylle books in the movie are a personification of how cheesy those sorts of books and movies can be. The eye-rolling puns, the use of a femme fatale, and crude jokes.

Back in the day, that's how most James Bond movies were. They had their serious moments, but Bond was a cheeky spy who liked to fuck and crack wise with his villains. He was suave and sure of himself and a badass. But there was a transition in the 90's when the Austin Powers movies started rolling out. Now, I'm a huge fan of Austin Powers movies, I'll watch them any time, any place. But those movies, being replicas of the old Bond films but with more humor, outlandish sex, and over the top puns, made it difficult for the new Bond films to be silly. Suddenly, they were getting more and more serious, with more and more over the top action scenes and explosions.

Argylle brought back the silliness and the goofiness, and the ability to laugh at itself. Suspension of disbelief, etc etc. Sometimes you just need to sit back and let yourself enjoy the ride. Throughout the film, as the layers kept being peeled back, I kept thinking, "What is this movie?!" I can usually figure out what's going to happen, but the twists and turns in this film kept throwing me off, and that kept me in my seat and having fun.

There's a scene where Bryce Dallas Howard's character, Elly, thinks she's seen her parents die in cold blood. Rockwell is driving her somewhere in the south of France, and he asks her if she's okay. Howard, astonished, asks, "Am I okay? Am I okay?!", and then she started crying. This made me lean over to my friend and say, "all of us @ Elmo the other day", and we burst into hysterics. (If you're unfamiliar, Elmo's X account posted asking how everyone was, and there was a surge of responses of people using memes to show how not well they all are.)

A little more than halfway through, we find out that Elly's real name is Rachel Kyle. She had gotten into a bad accident on a spy mission and had no memory. The bad guys brainwashed her into thinking she was someone else, and it worked. The Argylle books she wrote as Elly, were really just memories coming back to her. We were made to believe her books were predicting future events, but really, it was the past. Samuel L. Jackson explained that to her. Rockwell then had to calm Howard down and get her to settle into the information. Slowly, Rachel remembers who she is. She hasn't lost all of Elly, but she makes it seem like she has in order to complete the overall mission.

Rockwell thinks that Howard has double crossed her, but in a very Knives Out fashion, she explains that she knew if she shot him in the chest in just the right spot, he wouldn't die. We learn that the two were lovers back in the day. Not only did he feel betrayed, but he was heartbroken. Later on, she double crosses the bad guys, finds her cat, then finds a room with all the weapons she could possibly need to get out. Rockwell finds her there, and they're able to hash things out. She assures him that they're on the same side.

This leads into one of the most incredibly choreographed fight scenes I've ever seen. You can tell the actors were having an incredible time. Smoke pours into the corridor and the two come out shooting. While throwing in body rolls and other dance movements, they take everyone out. This also included Howard lifting Rockwell up, much like how Dua Lipa was lifted up during the beginning of the movie by Henry Cavill, spread eagle. The shots used every time there was a lift like this was not subtle. We get it, it's an innuendo for sitting on someone's face. And it was funny every single time.

Then the next fight scene happened, which gave Howard a moment to shine. They were trapped in a room that was slowly filling with oil, so they couldn't shoot their guns. She remembers she's actually good at ice skating, and puts together makeshift skates. She sticks a knife into a gun, then rushes out like a hockey player. I thought I was going to pass out from laughing so hard. It was the perfect mix of hockey style skating and figure skating. Were these scenes filled with CGI and body doubles? Yes. Did it make them less fun? Absolutely not.

Everything works out in the end because of course it does. Her ending is given to Argylle and Wyatt. Personally, I think Henry Cavill and John Cena should have kissed, they were clearly in love. I thought they would have since Rockwell and Howard kissed. All of the scenes paralleled one another, so why couldn't that one? I digress.

For one last big laugh, at the end of the movie, Howard is back to pretending to be Elly the author, and is doing a book reading of the final Argylle book. She's taking questions from the audience, and she calls on a man. He stands and knowingly smiles. It's Henry Cavill, only he has a curly mullet and a southern accent. What is it with British actors and doing southern accents that brings me so much joy? He says, "I don't have any questions, but I'm sure you have a couple for me", and winks.

There was a post-credits scene. It was supposed to be the actual Argylle book's first film adaptation. The scene takes place in a bar called The King's Man. An Easter egg thrown in by director, Matthew Vaughn, who has also directed the 2021 film by the same name. We couldn't tell if it was serious or not, but I'd love to see a movie based off the fake books. I think mostly because the writer, Jason Fuchs, and Matthew Vaughn, should definitely team up again.

Even though there were parts reminiscent to other spy movies, this is one of the most creative movies I've seen in a while. This is my favorite kind of satire. There are so many movies that are just remakes of remakes of remakes these days. It feels like there are no original ideas left. So, this was a breath of fresh air. It was so funny and so brilliant with a star studded cast. I bet this movie was so fun to work on, you could just feel that energy radiating from the actors. There were some slower parts, but that's to be expected. For the most part, my attention was kept. It was one of those movies where I left thinking, "I can't wait for this to come to streaming so I can watch it again".

I don't think Howard is the strongest actor, and some of the plot between the good spies and the bad spies was a little confusing. I found a lot of that hard to follow, maybe that was supposed to be on purpose. Most spy movies aren't always clear on what the main issue is.

Anyways, if you're looking for an escape from the cold, or an escape in general, this is definitely the movie to see.

[wolfiemcwolferson]

Piarles and 7 "Feel my heartbeat" 💙❤️

I actually got two prompts for this and I was waiting for something to hit.

Have some…post race copium.

Charles is fearless.

Pierre knew that when they were kids and he knew it when they were teenagers and he knew that when they were staring down F1 seats.

He’s his best friend. The person who knows Charles the best so it’s surprising to him that he doesn’t realize that Charles is not so fearless until they’ve properly gotten their shit together.

One week on a boat and the most ridiculous conversation of Pierre’s life and they slip into boyfriends relationship lovers like they’ve slipped into everything their entire lives.

There’s no learning curve. Pierre doesn’t have to adjust. No, now he only has to refrain from kissing Charles senseless in front of other people instead of all of the time.

Except.

Well, except now Pierre sees the little worry lines in Charles’ face sometimes. Maybe it’s the fact that he knows Charles body better than he ever has and maybe it’s just because Charles is letting it slip, but he notices it.

He notices it when he’s watching Arthur race and he notices it when Lorenzo says Norman is sore from a crash and he notices it when they part ways on Sunday morning and Charles says, “Have a safe race, Pear.”

Never a good race. Have a safe race.

And Pierre understands. He understands because it was Suzuka last year that cracked them all to hell and forced them to finally work it out, but he never looks at it head on. Because he’s afraid he’ll do something stupid like ask Charles to quit racing so they can elope in some foreign city and design baby onesies while they raise a whole football teams worth of children.

Anything but get in a car.

So, he knows that when he sees the pictures - his car underneath Esteban’s - Charles is going to…be a little fearful tonight.

“Hey,” Charles whispers, slipping up beside him outside the Alpine center.

Pierre is showered and changed and is only hanging out because they’re on separate flights out and won’t see each other for two days.

Ben moves around, making it look organic but shielding the two of them from cameras or eyes or - he nods once and Pierre clasps Charles’ wrist in his hand and tugs him away, in the tiny corner between Alpine and a trailer. The angle of it hiding them from anyone.

Charles looks exhausted. Angry and exhausted, but that little line in his forehead….

Even though they’re hidden, they don’t have much time and they wouldn’t risk it anyway. Too much at stake.

So, Pierre takes Charles hand before wrapping it around his wrist. They could be talking. They could just be talking.

“Feel my heartbeat, Cha.” Pierre whispers, squeezing his own hand down on top of Charles’. “Do you feel it?”

Charles blows out a shaky breath. The line in his forehead disappears. “Yes. Yes, I feel it.”

They don’t say anything else. Pierre doesn’t kiss him like he so desperately wants, but he doesn’t remove his hand.

“My debrief.” Charles eventually says, and Pierre let’s go.

“I’ll see you at -“

Charles leans in brushing their cheeks together and it throws Pierre so much he stops speaking. “Joris will cancel my thing tomorrow. I will be at yours tomorrow morning, yes?”

Pierre nods once, jerky and thrown off balance by it.

“I need you.” Charles says with a raw edge and so Pierre nods, more thrown off that Charles is changing up his beloved schedule. It must have shaken him quite badly. And when will he not give him everything?

“Tomorrow.” Pierre smiles at him, and then Charles is slipping away, back to Ferrari for his debrief and his shower and his post-race ice bath.

Ben levels him with a look when he too slips from the shadows.

Pierre tries to play it off, by making a joke. “Won’t need you tomorrow, Ben. Got my own personal trainer coming to visit.”

“Good.” Ben says immediately, touching his shoulder. “You scared us today.”

Pierre knows. But he has to be fearless.

Except maybe when he’s with Charles.

[whooambouttamakeanameformyself]

Beautiful Bloodshed.

Otis Driftwood x Transmasc! Reader. (18+)

(Chapter one)

Hello friends! This is going to have several chapters since I want it to be a slow burn romance that starts before the events of House Of 1000 Corpses and ends in between House Of 1000 Corpses and Devil's Rejects (I know we all love young Otis.)

Warnings: Murder, Violence, Abuse, Swearing (a fuck ton of that), Blood, Guts, Gore, Cult Activities, Human Sacrifices, Ritualistic Sex, Sex in general, Drinking, Recreational Drug use, Smoking, Kidnapping, Necrophillia. I mean it's Otis man.... I can't really help what he does, if you've seen the movie then you pretty much know what to expect from this story and Otis himself.

Summary: You meet Otis and baby one day at Spaulding's, you become good friends with baby and start hanging out with her (and sometimes Otis). You pass by Otis's room many times while his door is open, allowing you to see all of the art hung on his walls. It intrigues you. You ask Baby about his art and she tells you a little about it, you ask more questions and she suggests you just go ask him, which you decline quickly. You aren't afraid of Otis (not by a longshot) you just didn't want to bother him with stupid questions, especially since you probably wouldn't understand the philosophical answers he gave you. Baby takes your hand and drags you to Otis's room where he's sitting reading a book. She pretty much tells him to tell you about his art and he agrees (a little too quickly and with a bit more excitement than usual.)

He shows you the art on his walls first, telling you a little bit about them, and when you seem extremely interested in his work he decides to see how you'll react to some of his... other... art. Starting with the bone sculptures.

(Written in third person.)

Enjoy>:)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a cool spring evening in Ruggsville Texas, and Y/N was spending their time doing one of their favorite things... gossiping to Captain Spaulding. Spaulding was a good friend to them (who could sometimes act like a dad in certain situations), a friend who loved to listen to the fucked up shit Y/N's friends and family were up to, and tonight's story was funny as hell.

Spaulding stood leaning against the counter next to the cash register, listening to Y/N tell him about their friend Pamela, a girl a year younger than him who was a little... off her rocker.

"So her boyfriend cheats on her, yeah? And what does she do? She paints the word 'Cheater' across his trailer in red paint while he was at work. Then she goes to his work and used the spare key to his car that he gave her to get into his car, I swear this bitch left a fuckin dead ass Armadillo in his car and dumped a shit ton of used condoms in the back seat!" Y/N says, causing Spaulding to bust out laughing, damn near doubled over. "God damn! Where the hell did she get a dead Armadillo? And where the hell did the condoms come from?!" Spaulding asked damn near unable to speak from laughing.

"The Armadillo was on the side of the road, and I don't even wanna know how she got so many used condoms!" Now Y/N was laughing, the sound of the bell above the front door going unnoticed by both of them.

Otis stood in the doorway of Captain Spaulding's, the sound of laughing stopping him dead in his tracks. He could hear Spaulding's usual snorting laugh but there was another laugh... it was different... not like the laughs of the nasty men who usually hung around Spaulding's gas station, it was like music. His eyes landed on the figure standing infront of the counter, their body shaking with laughter.

After the laughter died down Spaulding finally noticed him, standing there with the front door still open.

"God dammit, boy! Ya lettin' out all my AC! Come in or get the fuck out!" Spaulding yelled at him, giving him a scowl. This outburst caused Y/N to turn around to see who his friend was yelling at, he was very surprised to see a white haired guy standing there.

Otis quickly recovered, walking in the rest of the way, giving Spaulding a bitter look. "You. You and I need to talk." He pointed to Spaulding, which earned him a nod from the clown who looked like he wanted to say something, but held his tongue. He turned to Y/N, giving him an apologetic look. "Sorry, Y/N, I gotta talk to this asshole, we'll continue when I'm done."

Y/N kept himself busy by looking at all the oddities in display cases while the white haired man (you now know is called Otis, thanks to Spaulding yelling his name quite a few times) and Spaulding were arguing over something Y/N honestly couldn't give less of a shit about. Y/N saw a blonde woman enter the shop in the reflection of the glass display case that held a mummified monkey, she completely ignored the two men arguing, choosing to focus her attention on the only other person in the building, Y/N. She approached him, standing beside him and looking at the mummified monkey, trying to figure out what was so interesting about it. "You're really interested in this monkey, huh?" She giggled.

Y/N giggled aswell, looking over at her. "Not really, I'm just trying to ignore the toddlers back there arguing over the last grape." The woman rolled her eyes, playfully nudging him. "Ah, ignore them! They get a kick outta fighting. Hey, you know Spaulding? How come I ain't met ya before?"

Y/N shrugged. "Dunno, I'm here sporadically so maybe it's just cuz I'm never here when ya'll come around?" He'd vaguely recalled seeing the two leaving as he was pulling in once but he might be wrong.

"Well I'm Baby, and that guy bitchin' at Cutter is Otis!" She said excitedly, letting out another laugh. "You got a name? Or do I just pick one for ya?"

"Y/N, nice to meet ya, Baby!" He grinned, holding his hand out for her to shake, which she shook excitedly.

Y/N and Baby talked about music and shit while the two men continued to argue, it turns out, the two of them had pretty similar music taste! They talked so much that they hadn't realized the two men had finished arguing and were now just staring at the two. Eventually Otis got tired of watching them and approached Baby, telling her they had to get back home. Baby groaned and looked back to Y/N.

"Sorry, I gotta get goin', you should come over some time! We can listen to music together!" She gasps "and paint eachother's nails!" Her excitement caused Y/N to let out a soft laugh, watching as Otis pulled her toward the door.

"Door is always open if ya wanna visit! Spaulding will give you directions!" She called, giving him a deranged smile as Otis pulled her out the door. Once the door was closed Spaulding let out a deep sigh, turning his attention back to Y/N. "Alright, kid, where were we?" He asked, moving to lean on the counter once again. Y/N chuckled, approaching the counter. "I was about to tell you what Pam did after the dead Armadillo and the used condoms!"

~~~~~~~~~

End of Chapter One.

Thank you all for putting up with my BS :p

[reigningqueenofwords]

Praying to Cas

Word count: 1,427

Read on AO3

Part 7 of Father Dearest

It didn’t take long for word to spread- in both demon circles, and to hunters. Crowley had emptied your trailer, moving your belongings to hell. He never expected anything of you, gave you your own room, and gave you space when you asked. It took some getting used to, that was for sure. You continued to see your doctor, as it was far too late to begin looking for a new one. Crowley escorted you there, and sometimes would join you. They never asked why Cas was with you one visit, and Crowley the next. They just figured that they were close friends or something.

When you hit eight months, you were miserable, and the heat of hell was not helping. Finally, you couldn’t take it any longer. You knew that Crowley was in some meeting, but who knew how long that would take?  You couldn’t stand being there another moment. Many of the demons avoided you, afraid of what Crowley might do to them. A few were civil with you, but that was about it. 

Storming into the throne room (as well as you could at this point), you ignored the eyes on you. Crowley stood, rushing towards you. “Is something the matter, pet?” There were murmurs from the others, but he simply shot them that glare.

“I’m hot, Crowley.” You whined, near tears. Your emotions running the show would be one thing you certainly wouldn’t miss. “No matter what I do. I need to get out of here. I can’t possibly spend the last month of my pregnancy like this, or give birth to Clark in these conditions.” Your hand rubbed your stomach, which was a habit by now. The two of you had worked past your issues, which had been interesting. You had never intended to hurt him, he understood that. There was no way that you were a couple, but you were at this weird place. You couldn’t be friends, as you were going to be co-parenting, but you weren’t more than that. It was confusing, so you simply went with the flow.

He sighed, and nodded. “Understandable.” Crowley mused. “Off with you!” He snapped at the others in the room. Once the room was empty, save the two of you, he gave you a small smile. “I shall speak with the Winchesters.” You could tell that was the last thing he wanted, but the safest option.

“Are you sure?” In reality, you weren’t exactly comfortable with the idea. You hadn’t spoken to Dean since that day he freaked out on you. Now and then you did keep in touch with Sam, and Cas. Neither mentioned Dean, but you had a feeling that he was back to girls like Gabby. It hurt, but there was nothing that you could do.

“There’s nowhere safer, aside from here, of course.” He pointed out. “Relax, I shall return.” Crowley lovingly kissed your forehead, knowing it soothed you. Chewing on your lip, you walked back out, towards your room. It was where you felt the safest, even though you knew that no one would touch you. You figured it was a mom thing. Some days it hit you harder than others- you were going to be a mom. You were going to be responsible for this little life. Looking down, you smiled as Clark moved. He was big enough that some movements could be seen from the outside. The first time he rolled in your stomach, making it do the wave, you had just stared. It amazed you. Laying on your side, you closed your eyes. You hoped that despite the heat, you’d be able to get a short nap in.

Crowley popped in, his usual smug look missing. “Oh, look. It’s the King Douche.” Dean muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, shut up.” Crowley snapped. “I’m not here for my health.” He stated, moving to stand a bit closer.

Sam raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat. “Why are you here?” He asked, curious.

“Y/N, actually.”

That got Dean’s attention. “Is she okay?” He asked, worried.

Crowley sighed. “She’s eight months pregnant, she’s as well as can be.” He told him. “However, hell is a bit hot for her. This is the second safest place for her.” The boys stared at him. “Oh, bloody hell. Can I bring Y/N here for the remainder of her pregnancy?” He didn’t think it was that hard of a concept.

“Of course.” Sam spoke up, earning a glare from Dean. Dean knew that his brother and best friend kept in touch with you. While it did hurt that you hadn’t contacted him, he  knew why. “She can stay as long as she needs. Her and Clark.”

“That won’t be needed. I plan to ask her to return with him once he’s born.” Crowley replied. Dean got up and stormed out of the room. He didn’t want to think about you and Crowley getting together because of a kid. “What’s his issue?” He asked Sam, motioning to the door that Dean just walked out of.

Sam sighed. “He misses her.” He told him honestly. “Still wants her here, wants to be with her, but is conflicted.”

“Ah, well. That’s his problem.” Crowley commented. “I’ll be back soon with Y/N. Fair warning, she’s been craving a lot of fruit lately.”

When you woke up, you were surprised to see your old room. Yawning, you sat up and stretched. How hard were you out? You saw your empty suitcase and moved over to the closet. It had your clothes in in. Had Crowley done that? Hearing the door creak, you turned to see Dean. You gave him a small smile.

“Crowley said you’ve been hot.” He said, obviously slightly uncomfortable. You nodded, not sure what to reply with. “Uh, Sammy’s out getting you some fruit, as well. I think he was excited about that.”

You chuckled at that. “He’s going to come back with as much organic fruit as possible.” That was just how Sam was. “Is Crowley here?” You asked, curious.

Dean’s look shifted from uncomfortable, to slightly angry. “No.” He crossed his hands over his chest. “He said something about going to hell to fix up the nursery.” Just by his tone alone, you knew that it pissed him off.

“Please, Dean. I don’t want to fight.” You gave him a pleading look.

“Are you going back to hell? I mean…after you have his….son.”

You couldn’t help but glare at him. “He’s my son, too, Dean! And I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do.” You yelled at him. “Why would you even care. It’s obvious after everything that you hate me. I’m surprised you’re even sticking around while I’m here.” Your voice betrayed you, showing how much that actually hurt.  

In two steps, he was in front of you. His hands were on your jaw, his eyes looking into yours. His anger had faded, revealing the sadness in them. Leaning forward, he kissed you gently. It didn’t last long, however. “I don’t hate you. Not one bit.” He whispered. “I hate the situation, Y/N.”

His voice broke your heart. “I’m sorry.” You wrapped your arms around him.

You had no idea how long you had stayed like that. It was like being home, but at the same time, it felt so wrong. Your heart was pounding, your mind going a million different directions. It felt like your chest was tightening, making you pull away. You tried to catch your breath and gripped his bicep as your stomach tightened, causing you pain. Your eyes clenched shut, your free hand on your stomach. You’d read up on Braxton Hicks, but this seemed far worse.

“Y/N?!” Dean panicked. He’d never dealt with things like this before. “Come on, babe. Lay down.” He tried to guide you back, but all you could do was sit. “Lay down, please?”

You shook your head. “Run me either a warm bath, or a warm shower. Please?” You looked up at him before you winced again. His face paled, and his hands were getting sweaty. She was only eight months pregnant, what if him upsetting her caused this pain? He knew that pregnancy was supposed to be nine months!

Rushing out, he sent out a prayer for Cas’s help. Please, please. If this is labor…stop it.

[jimbleswrites]

Nora, The Sole Survivor

Chapter 3: Out of Time

The platform rose in the darkness, the sounds of groaning metal bouncing in the small tunnel. I stood there for a while, trying to think of what would be on the surface. Would it even be safe to walk around up there? There were roaches still alive in the vault. Maybe some animals would still be OK up there? I finally saw a crack of light above me, then more light poured in as the door opened. I covered my eyes with my hand, feeling the warmth of natural sunlight for the first time in a long while. The platform came to a halt as my eyes adjusted to the brightness. I saw lots of brown and yellow, dirt and trees with falling leaves. Plants seem to be the same, but not the verdant green I was used to. I took a deep breath. The air was crisp, slightly metallic, but I felt OK so far. I could see ruins of houses over the hillside, where Sanctuary Hills used to be.

I turned around to the path, gripping my pistol. The path down was littered with more skeletons and wreckage of helicopters, cars, and trailers. I started down, slowly passing the debris. I still remember running past some of them to get into the vault, and now they all were dead. For god knows how long. I accidentally kicked one of the bones as I walked. I jerked my gun over and shot before I realized it was nothing. I awkwardly kept walking. I guess I was jumpy, but so far there hadn’t been anyone around. I crossed a small river into a backyard, finally inside the suburb. The houses were rusted and filled with holes. I could see inside the house with ruined furniture and scraps of what used to be. I walked up to where the road was, the asphalt was cracked with weeds growing through. I looked over to where my house was, only to see something moving. I raised my pistol, then realized what it was.

Codsworth was hovering outside my house, like it was a normal day. He was using his saw to trim our hedges. The hedges were perfectly trimmed, despite being dead and brown. I walked up slowly, unsure how he would respond. His closest eye turned to me, then the rest of him turned. I heard his sensors whirring, almost like he was trying to process seeing me.

“As I live and breathe…” His voice sounded torn. “It’s… it’s really you!”

“Codsworth… You’re still here.” It seemed surreal, but he was still trucking after everything that happened.

“Well, of course I'm still here!” He replied, in the chipper tone I was used to. “Surely you don't think a little radiation could deter the pride of General Atomics International?” He scanned around with his eyes quickly. “But you seem worse for wear. Best not let the hubby see you in that state. Where is sir, by the way?”

He didn’t know. We just abandoned him to go to the vault. I felt guilty about leaving but it all happened so fast. “He’s… He’s..” I got choked up on my words. “He’s dead. Someone killed him.”

“It's worse than I thought.” Codsworth hummed to himself. “You're suffering from hunger-induced paranoia. Not eating properly for 200 years will do that, I'm afraid.”

I dropped my pistol when I heard that. “200 years? What the hell do you mean?” There was no way it had been that long. The terminals in the vault only mentioned a couple months.

“A bit over 210 actually, mum. Give or take a little for the Earth's rotation and some minor dings to the ole' chronometer. That means you're two centuries late for dinner!” He laughed at his own joke. “Perhaps I can whip you up a snack? You must be famished.”

“What? Food? Yeah, sure... I... I need a minute to think…” I leaned against the wall and slumped down. Codsworth scooted off, leaving me alone with my thoughts. 200 years? It seemed impossible, but here I was, the sole survivor of Sanctuary Hills. Just me and Codsworth, who seemed to be nonchalant about the whole thing.

“Here you are, mum!” Codsworth came back holding some Fancy Lads in his claw. He put them in my lap. The pink box was worn, with stains on the outside. The top had been ripped open but  the cakes inside were still sealed. I opened one and took a bite. It was sickeningly sweet, but that's how I remembered them tasting. They pumped these with so many chemicals I guess it made sense they wouldn’t go bad.

“Codsworth…” I swallowed and started to speak. “Listen to me carefully... have you seen him? Have you seen Shaun?”

“Why, Nate had him last, remember? Perhaps he's gone to the Parker residence to arrange a play-date?” Codsworth pointed to a ruined house.

“Codsworth, are you sure you're holding up okay?” Even if he was programmed just to clean, there was no way he was acting like this was normal.

“Oh mum, it's been just horrible!” Codsworth cried out. He finally sat down, tucking his legs under him next to me. “Two centuries with no one to talk to, no one to serve. I spent the first ten years trying to keep the floors waxed, but nothing gets out nuclear fallout from vinyl wood. Nothing!” His eyes drooped as he continued. “And don't get me started about the futility of dusting a collapsed house. And the car! The car! How do you polish rust?”

I put my hand on his claw. Even though he was just a robot, I could hear the pain in his voice. “Let it out buddy.”

“I'm afraid I don't know anything else, mum. The bombs came, and all of you left in such a hurry. I thought for certain you and your family were... dead. I just stayed here, hoping someone from the vault would emerge someday. I did find this holotape. I believe Nate was going to present it to you. As a surprise. But then, well... everything happened." He held out a tape.

I took it from him. “Codsworth, all the time you were here. Did you see anyone? Anyone at all? Maybe a bald guy with a large scar?” Maybe he saw someone go in or leave with Shaun.

“If only I had, mum! You've no idea the desperation for human contact one develops over 200 years. And when you do encounter them? Oh the cruelty! You're either... target practice or... spare parts!”

“Wait, so you saw someone?”

“Well, I must admit. I did explore a little nearby.” Codsworth pointed towards the city.  “I took a trip to Concord years ago. Plenty of people there. But they pummeled me with sticks until I had to run back home. I haven’t seen anyone in Sanctuary though.”

“There's still people alive in Concord?” I was surprised to hear this, but Vault-Tec had put up some other Vaults in Boston. I guess some people in them had come back to the surface like me.

“Yes, although they're a bit rough. You remember the way? Just across the southern footbridge out of the neighborhood and past the Red Rocket station.” Codsworth looked over to me. “What do you intend to do once you find someone?”

“Shaun's out there, Codsworth. I need to find him.” I stood up, grabbing my pistol from the ground. “Someone took my son, and if there is a chance he’s out there, I have to go.”

“Well then mum, I will continue to secure the home. Although I’m afraid it’s not as nice as it once was.” Codsworth hovered back up to my eye level. “Should you ever need food or shelter, I will have it here for you. However, may I suggest leaving tomorrow morning? I don’t like the idea of you traveling at night.”

I looked at the clock. It was after 9, and the sun was already setting. It made sense to wait. “Sure, Codsworth. I’ll leave tomorrow.”

The rest of the night was quiet. Codsworth showed me his garden and food stash. There was Blamco Mac & Cheese, Cram, Instamash, Pork n’ Beans, Nuka-Cola, Sugar Bombs, and some Yum Yum Deviled Eggs. All filled with preservatives from years ago. Codsworth even started a small garden in the backyard, with something called a Mutfruit. It tasted similar to an apple, just mushier and sweeter. I was surprised that there was so much, then learned that Codsworth had picked Sanctuary clean. He had gone through the whole neighborhood, taking any edible food and decent scraps and keeping them in our house. He claimed it was to help whoever was going to emerge from the vault, and also it gave him a purpose besides cleaning rusted cars. There was a pile of various clothes, wood, steel, even a few pipe guns with ammo.

It brought back memories, seeing the scraps. There was a Nuka-Cola shirt that my neighbor Mr. Hawthorne used to wear. A car door from the Johnson’s Corvega they never got to fix. The weapons reminded me of when the war was kicking up, many people started to build pipe weapons to avoid being on a watchlist. Nate’s new job was to help round up these weapons so the homefront would be safe. I found a military backpack of Nate’s and started to pack up a few things for my trip. Some food, a pipe pistol and ammo, even a spare outfit in case something happened to my suit.

Codsworth ,meanwhile, had set up the remaining mattresses in Shaun’s room for a bed. Shaun’s room was the most covered, as in the least holes in the walls, so it made sense. After getting everything together, I decided to sleep until morning. Codsworth assured me he would be on guard duty all night, then left to check the perimeter. I sat down on the mattress on the floor. It was ragged and stained, but still supported me just fine. I also felt something in my pocket as I laid down. I remembered that Codsworth had given me a holotape from Nate. I slipped off my pip-boy, and put the tape inside. I hit play, only to realize this wasn’t a data file, it was a voice file.

It started with a loud feedback sound. I guess he was too close to the microphone.  “Oops.” Nate laughed a little, then I heard Shaun babbling. “No, no. Little fingers away. There we go. Just say it. Right there. Right there. Go ahead.” Shaun babbled more. I think Nate was trying to get him to say something. I was tearing up, listening to him play with our son.

He started over. “Hi honey! Listen… I don't think Shaun and I need to tell you how great of a mother you are... but we're going to anyway. You are kind, and loving,” Shaun giggled in the background “and funny! That's right. And patient. So patient. Patience of a saint, as your mother used to say.”

It had been so long since he said something like this to me. The tape continued. “Look, with Shaun, and us all being at home together... It's been a stressful year. But even so, I know our best days are yet to come. There will be changes, sure. Things we'll need to adjust to. I'm rejoining the office instead of being deployed. You're shaking the dust off your law degree... But everything we do, no matter how hard... we do it for our family. Now say goodbye, Shaun... Bye bye? Say bye bye?” Shaun giggled again. Nate sighed. “Bye honey! We love you! Happy Birthday!”

The tape ended. I had completely forgotten. My birthday was on the 30th, just a few days away. I cried. My emotions finally caught up to me fully. The nukes had gone off, I had been frozen for 200 years, My husband was shot dead, My son was kidnapped, and here I was. Crying alone on a dirty mattress in my ruined house, chasing a crazy hope that maybe Shaun would be out there. I cried for hours, until I finally fell asleep from exhaustion.

[carolmunson]

fixin' dinner. (sadist!eddie x f!masochist!reader)

back again with a mean sadist!eddie (also technically mechanic!eddie) and his hot masochist gf. let's explore the one time they played 'mean 50s husband and hot 50s housewife who can't get her shit together.

warnings include: smut, minors dni. established dom/sub sadist/masochist relationship, all aspects of the scene being written are consented to between these fictional parties, belting, spanking with belt, general threats, degradation, humiliation, emotional sadism, physical sadism, mean names (bitch), pet names (baby, honey, darling, etc.), face slapping, slight breeding kink, p in v sex (unprotected), teasing, rough sex, food mention, the works. eddie is MEAN in this, as a reminder. this doesn't feature aftercare but it sort of doesn't need it in a way. ---

When the phone rings in the trailer, you know it's him.

"Hi," you chirp.

"Hi sweet thing," his voice is warm and crackly, tired. Like it was this morning when you woke him up for breakfast.

"What's goin' on, you okay? Staying late?" you ask, leaning against the wall in the kitchen.

"No, babe, I'm about to leave -- just wanted to know if dinner was gonna be ready by the time I got home," he smirks when he asks, your eyes linger at front door's frame -- his leather belt hung on a nail next to it. You gulped.

"Uh, um..." you stammer, heart starting to pound.

"You better hope dinner's ready by the time I get in the door," his voice is menacing, "Or you're gonna be in for a world'a hurt, you understand me?"

"Y-yes, sir," your mouth runs dry but your lower half can't say the same. He'd brought up this scenario weeks ago -- 'Like those 50s housewives baby, how their husbands would get home from work and they burned dinner. We could do it like that? You were just saying how I haven't used my belt in a while. It could be fun, huh?'

He ran you through it this morning, going through your normal 'do you trust me?' routine before he left for work so you didn't have to do it before starting. 'If you decide you don't wanna play anymore, just say 'I ordered pizza' when I ask if dinner's gonna be ready, okay? I love you either way. Gonna fuck you on that counter either way, too.'

He was insatiable.

"Don't disappoint me," his voice takes on darkness so easily. You bite your lip to hold back the whimper in your throat.

"I won't," you whisper, "I promise."

"See you in twenty," he says, "Love you." He hangs up before you can tell him you love him, too. Eager. You take the time you have to freshen up before her arrives -- you had already burnt dinner, it sat on the stove blackened and crisped on purpose. He'll love the extra effort you put in to make it authentic.

The green tinged light of the bathroom mirror isn't doing you any favors, but you glide on some Dr. Pepper lip smackers and a little blush for good measure. Pouty and flushed, just how he liked it.

You put on a flouncy dress with flutter sleeves, the kind of dress that buttons all down the middle. Frabric that flounces with you when you walk, hitting just above your knee. A spare apron from an old French maid costume completed the look along with a pair of fake pearl earrings, and heels that made Eddie fall to his knees. You smoothed over the apron, hearing his van pull in noisily, the slam of the driver side door. Normally you're so ready for these interactions, for his harshness, for his angry stare. Today felt different, you were in the headspace, you were a little afraid.

It was exciting.

You plaster on a smile when he comes through the door. His grin meets yours, and so does the scent of gasoline and oil blended together with his sweat. His hair is tied back today, tendrils and bangs crowding his face, showing off his jaw -- the stubble left on it from this morning.

"There's my girl," he's gruff, pulling you by the waist to kiss you -- it's passionate, like he hadn't seen you in years.

"Hi honey," you flush, trying your hardest to stay in character and not just bend over the couch, "Good day at work?" "Better when I know I have you to come home to," he smiles and winks, taking off his work shirt all the while revealing his oil stained wife beater and the two silver chains he wore around his neck. His steps are broad and deliberate on his way to the kitchen, scraping one of the metal chairs away from the table before collapsing into it like a brute.

"Get me a beer, sweet thing," he demands, tutting while you get one from the fridge with dainty and graceful movements -- his pretty little thing, "Shouldn't have to ask you, should just have it when I come in." "Sorry, dear," you respond, watching him open the bottle on the edge of the table. He takes a swig, licking his lips while he looks you over.

Please just fuck me, you're so hot right now, you try to send him the message telepathically but he's not getting it.

"It's okay," he says, taking another sip and setting the beer down, "What's for dinner, angel?"

Your eyebrows raise, but you shake the fear off, forcing another smile, "Darling, I'm so sorry. I accidentally burned dinner. I can make something else if you'd like! Anything you want!"

"So dinner isn't ready?" he asks, surprised.

"It...well, it was. It burned," your voice was meek, he salivated over it.

"So you burned dinner?" his brows furrowed, standing up slowly from the kitchen chair.

"You burned dinner?" he asked again, his face stained in anger, "Am I hearing you right?"

"Baby, I'm sorry -- I was just trying to get it done on time and the oven was on too high. I'm sorry," your lower lip wobbles, he rolls his eyes before they end up in a hard glare down at you. "I work all fuckin' day, every day, to keep a roof over your head," he takes a step forward while you step back, "I break my fuckin' back so you don't have to lift a fuckin' finger. And you can't even manage to make me fuckin' dinner?"

"I...I did -- it just -- it burned -- I'm -- " you sputtered, taking careful steps while backing away from him. You shook in your heels, his eyes menacing and shining with rage.

"So what is it, huh? You too stupid? Too lazy?" he spits while he stomps forward in his combat boots, the floor shaking while he cracks an open palm hard against your cheek, "You a fuckin' idiot, is that it?"

The force sends you reeling, hands immediately reaching for your stinging face -- certain there'd be a mark left behind later. Tears prick your eyes but you don't want to cry yet, opting to swallow the air pocket flying up from your chest -- desperate to steady your breathing.

"No, I -- it was an accident," your back hits the wall and he takes a deep breath through his nose, letting it out the same way like a bull ready to strike. You can feel a pulse in your cheek where he hit you, the places where his rings hit starting to swell. You make a run for it, checking his shoulder while you do, smearing oil on your dress's flutter sleeve.

"Oh, no, no, no," he taunts, turning at his waist and catching your forearm in a vice grip to pull you back to him, "Don't you run away from me when I'm talking to you."

"Don't you have any manners?" he asks, slamming you against the wall to cage you in with a hand resting by your shoulders. You nod, tears pouring hot down your cheeks, mascara streaking over your rouge.

"Answer me!" he growls, you wince -- your eyes shut tight.

"I h-have manners," you stammer out, eyes still closed.

"Look at me," he huffs, "You know better." You do know better than to not look at him when he's speaking but you just can't. You hang your head instead.

"Oh, you don't wanna listen? Go get my belt," he sighs, pushing his curly bangs away from his forhead, "Gonna have to teach you, aren't I?" "No, I -- please no," you plead, eyes popping open, but it gets you nothing but fingers digging into your jaw.

"If I hear another sound come outta that mouth that isn't you cryin' and apologizing to me, m'gonna make you sleep outside in the van," his threat feels real and your heart hammers, "Do I make myself clear?" "Cr-crystal," you nod. "Now," he mutters through gritted teeth, peering down at you with his jaw forward, "Go. Get. My. Belt."

You sulk, walking the short distance to where his belt hung by the doorframe -- a reminder every time you left his trailer, best behavior. You lift it off, running the length through your hands -- thick and wide, he never wore it, it was only for play.

"You think I got all day?" he calls. You shuffle into the kitchen, your heels scraping against the linoleum leaving scuff marks in their wake.

"And you've been leaving marks all over my floor," he spits, wrenching the belt out of your hand and wrapping some of the length around his knuckles. He shoves you roughly over the kitchen table where you obediently assume your position, shoulders shuddering while you lift your dress up.

Eddie takes the casserole dish with the charred dinner and tosses it in front of you, "Baby, I don't like having to do this, you gotta stop giving me reasons to. What is it, huh? You gotta go back to school and take home ec or somethin'?"

"No, sir," you barely squeak out.

"Like I said earlier," he says gruffly, bringing the belt down hard across your ass, "You're in for a world'a hurt, tonight." It doesn't help that you like the belt. You like how he looks in the kitchen light while the shadows from the florecents enhance the muscles in his arms. His sneer when he rears his arm back, his smile -- almost relief when he hears the loud crack of the leather hitting your skin. Your release and his.

The act happens in slow motion, your heart beat in your ears while he brings the belt down on you again. You falter in your heels a little, your knees buckling a bit at the force.

"Get up and take it," he harshly demads, "Get that ass back up."

"Yes, sir," you whisper, fixing your posture. He sounds like he's underwater, your eyes start to glaze over outside of the tears. His belt meets your thighs, your sit points. He always took extra measure on those so he could watch you wince and whine later on a hard chair or in the van. The burn and sizzle on your backside started earlier than normal, but he wasn't starting off light. With his belt, he never did.

"Always gotta.." thwap, "..tell the guys.." thwap, "..what a fuckin'.." thwap, "..disappointment you are." THWAP. You can't help but start crying out, trying to muffle it with your hand so the neighbors don't start asking questions. You're standing on your toes in your heels to meet the intensity of his whips on your backside.

"And they always say.." thwap, "..just gotta.." thwap, "..show her whose boss.." THWAP.

"But you know who the boss is, don't you baby?" he coos while you cry into the hand covering your mouth. Body stinging and burning.

"Yes, sir," you whimper.

"Whose the boss, hm?" he asks, his hand smoothing over your back. "You're the boss," you sniffle, putting both hands back down on the table. "That's right, baby," he says back, his voice back to soothing honey, "That's a good girl."

"You need some more?" he asks gently.

"Please," you breathe out, "I need t-to learn my p-place."

"Fuck..." he mutters under his breath, your eyes peer down to see the perfect outline of hard cock against his dark wash jeans. His hand gripping the belt tight, veins pulsing from his hand up his forearm -- his tattoos dancing with them. He'd been thinking about this all day.

"Say it again," his voice his ragged while he brings the belt back down on you. "I need to l-learn my place, s-sir," you repeat, wincing while he continues, blow after blow. Your skin was raw, the cooling end of summer air outside doing nothing to soothe you through the screens of the open windows.

"Yeah you do," he says to himself, grunting with each come down of the leather. He bit his lip at the jump in your hips, watching you start to get weak under the repeated smacks, your knees buckling more often -- fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

Eddie drops the belt with a clang and you jump to attention, turning around to face him.

"I'm sorry baby, I -- I can't," Eddie starts, "I'm callin' it I gotta -- oh fuck, I gotta fuck you right now."

You nod, ugh finally, taking a step toward the hall to get to the bedroom but his hands come up to roughly shove you back on the table -- beer bottle and casserole falling to the ground, shattered glass and mess to be dealt with later.

"This fuckin' body -- this dress? You know what you're doin' to me, don't you," he smirks, shoving your dress up to your waist and pushing your thighs up against your chest.

"That's why you wore these heels, hm?" he grabs your ankle, leaving a sloppy kiss on your calf, "Wanted to make me bust in my fuckin' work jeans?"

You giggle, his stained hands leaving oil marks on your legs. The same fingers undoing the buttons on your dress with nimble finesse.

"I could just rip it but I like this on you," his mumbles, "Don't wanna ruin it."

You simply nod, wanting to say 'thank you,' or 'appreciate it', but your tongue is too big for you mouth. You feel stupid and faded, just wanting to feel his touch and hear the low roll of his voice. He unbuttoned until your lace enclaved chest was full exposed, eyes feasting on you laying on the table for him -- way better than dinner.

Eddie works quickly on his jeans, the stiff fabric being shoved hard down to his thighs, his boxers coming down just enough for his balls to hang down over the band before he lines himself up with your entrance.

He pushes in with ease, slick so intense that it had already started moving down your thighs, shining in the light. His face relaxes, head falling back while he gets a rhythm going hands finding the smallest part of your waist for leverage.

"Oh shit, baby," he grunts, head falling back forward, hair falling out of the elastic and crowding his face, "Fuckin' -- nnmff -- needed this."

You gasp at his pace. No matter how wet or how ready you were it was always just a little too big -- stretching you in just the right way. Even when he was loving you he was punishing you with the size of his cock -- a little reminder every time, pain always reaps pleasure.

His picks up one of your hands and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently, warm brown eyes meeting yours. You feel the warmth before you realize that your three fingers are in his mouth, soaking them in spit before guiding them to your clit.

"Show me," he moans, "Make yourself feel good for me."

"You're already -mm!- making me feel good," you smile, slowly rubbing circles over your clit. His eyes nearly get stuck rolling back in his head at the sight, biting his lip while he drives harder into you. Eddie grunts, bending at the waist and caging you in on the table, hands finding you hair.

"Kiss me," he breathes, his mouth hot and wet on yours. His thrusts quicken while he chases his orgasm, the feeling of your hand working between you making his cock twitch. Eddie's brows furrow while he deepens his kiss, groaning hard into your mouth when your tongue brushes his.

"So fuckin' good, sweet thing," he whispers against your lips, "You're so good."

His plush lips crash into yours again while he pulls your hand from between them, "Can feel you gettin' close, you close?"

You nod feverishly, the tight binding in your belly getting tighter with each thrust of his cock between your thighs. He pushes up, back to standing over you, a glob of spit sent falling between your legs onto your clit -- making you jolt. Eddie's thumb works like magic over your, your thighs twitching with the sensation of his rough but lubricated finger pad and the stretch of his cock pumping in and out of you.

"Oh you're gonna cum, huh?" he nods while he asks, and you nod to answer.

"Yeah, you gonna cum for me?" he mocks. His eyebrows raise while you bite your lip, hips moving back and forth to fuck back on him, "You gonna be a good girl and cum?"

"Y-YES, sir," you cry out, your pussy spasming over him, thighs snapping tight together over his wrist -- just making it tighter over his dick still fucking you relentlessly. He coaxes you through it, praising you over and over, "Oh, good girl. That's my girl. That's it. Love when you moan for me like that..."

"Fuck, FUCK, Ed, Eddie," you whimper while he continues.

"Almost th-there, angel," he grunts, fucking into you with fervor.

"W-wanna cum inside," he says, but you know he's asking for permission. You nod at him, breathy 'it's okay..s'kay..'s pouring out of your mouth as your second orgasm builds in your tummy.

"Yeah?" he asks, cocky grin building while he leans in again to press flush against you, "Want me to c-cum inside you?" "Make you my little housewife f-foreal?" he dips his head to your neck, sucking and biting until you bruise, "Get you knocked up and st-stuck here?"

"Yes, yes, Eddie -- wanna be your -- ah, shit, shit," you whine, the second orgasm comes on quicker and harder than the first, your nails digging into his tank top and exposed flesh.

"Gonna make you my pr-pretty fuckin' housewife -- fuck, oh fuck, shit," he groans in your ear, nipping at your earlobe hard enough that you yelp. You can feel the hot spurts of his seed filling you, it stings in a good way, warming you from the inside out -- biting at the stretched skin while it oozes out of you.

When Eddie comes to, he leans up on his forearms, pressing a kiss against your lips. His eyes meet yours, gentle and heavy lidded, "I love you."

"I love you, too," you smile, offering a second peck. The pain settles in on your thighs and ass, you almost forgot you'd been belted.

"S'starting to hurt, honey," you confess quietly.

"I know, m'sorry," he mumbles, he kisses your cheek, then your other cheek, your forehead, your nose, "You need help in the shower? I was gonna clean up in here."

"I'm okay," you smirk, "You've done way worse damage before."

He gets up, rolling his eyes playfully, "Don't tempt me."

You sit up slowly on the kitchen table, which had shifted so much it was almost entirely against fridge. After Eddie pulls up his boxers and jeans, he helps take off your heels and hoists you down so you don't have to slide off the edge.

"Be careful of the glass, please," he warns, setting you down on the ground. You tip toe to the bathroom, hearing him sigh as he gets to his knees to clean up -- your sweet little domestic boy.

"Hey, c'mere, before you go get cleaned up," he calls out. You pad back to the kitchenette, stopping just before the linoleum. From the floor he turns back to you, "What do you want on your pizza? I'm gonna put in an order when I'm done cleaning up."

"Just cheese for me is fine, but I'm not picky. Get whatever you want," you shrug.

"I'm getting anchovies," he says.

"Anything but anchovies," you say, annoyed.

"That's why you shouldn't say get whatever you want if that's not what you mean," he smiles, "Just saying."

"Why don't you do one cheese and one meat lovers since that's what we always get?" you suggest.

He considers it, for a minute, "I think I'm gonna get three pies babe, I'm fuckin' starving."

[youre-amazing-say-it]

hi! can you do something with any mcu member (maybe chris or seb or anthony) where the reader is feeling peer pressure to have sex and she talks to one of the cast and they listen to her and hear her out and tell her it’s okay to take her time etc? i could use hearing this lol🤍 thank u

Am I Ready?

Warning: Talks of Sex, making out, talks of losing virginity, and manipulation.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x teen!reader, Anthony Mackie x teen!reader

Taglist: @chrisevansdaughter @slutfortaylorswiftandzendaya @dumb-fawkin-bitch

“Happy six months babe,” your partner Jack said seductively into your ear. The two of you were in a hotel room celebrating your anniversary. Jack flew in to celebrate as you were in Atlanta shooting Falcon and the Winter Soldier. The past six months with him have been incredible, and he has always been a kind and safe person to talk to. Except recently, when things have become a little award around a certain topic. 

You and Jack were in the middle of a heated make-out session when you felt him grab the hem of your shirt. Like always, you grabbed his hand and put them back on your hips. “Seriously babe, can we not do this tonight,” you said as you let go of the kiss and leaned against his forehead. He threw his head back against the couch and let out a groan. “Y/n, we have been together for six months. SIX MONTHS. Why don't you trust me?” Jack said. You got off and moved to sit next to him as you took his hand. “Jack, I keep telling you that sex is a big deal, and I'm not ready for it yet. I don't know when, but I'm asking you for patience.” Jack leaned over and kissed you on the lips. 

“You know I love you right?” Jack said looking at you. You gave a subtle nod to him, “and I really want to have sex with you. Don't you want to have sex with me?” he asked. “Jack, I don't know yet, okay?” you said as water lined your eyes. Jack got up from the sofa and headed for the bathroom, “where are you going?” you asked, not even looking at him afraid the tears would start falling. “To jerk myself off 'cause you won't fucking do it,” he spoke with a raised voice as he slammed the door.

Those events all transpired last night. 

Now you were back on set, and your tension has been weird since then. You sat in your chair, drinking water on the hot Atlanta stage when you heard two voices come through the stage doors. 

“The red ones are the best, no doubt.” you heard one voice say. “It's obviously the green ones Mack; you just have no taste,” sassed the second voice as they got closer to you. “Hey Y/N! What's the best skittle flavor?” Anthony Mackie asked as your other costar Sebastian Stan stood next to him. You quickly put on a small smile, responding “Yellow obviously.” The boys shook their heads and continued arguing for each of their flavors until they noticed you weren’t inputting yourself into their shenanigans like usual. “You okay Buttercup?” Mackie asked with a thoughtful look in his eyes. 

You trusted these two like brothers, always being there for you in times of need. Taking a breath, you continued saying “Can I talk to you guys later, maybe?” you asked looking at these men hopefully. Seb smiled and wrapped the metal arm around your shoulders, bringing you into a side hug. “Oh, course Y/n. How about during lunch, we chill in my trailer and chat,” he proposed looking down on you. You smiled back at him; “Sounds perfect.”

By the time lunch rolled around, you, Seb, and Mackie were on the floor of Sebastian's trailer. Craft’s Services had a taco truck for lunch, and each of you had your water by your side. “So,” Seb said as he had a piece of lettuce hanging out of his mouth, “what's up in that brain of yours?” he spoke with a smile on his face. You finished sipping your water before wiping your mouth and speaking. 

“When did you guys lose your virginity?”

It just so happened when you said that, both men had water in their mouths and some trickled out. “Um,” Sebastian chuckled,” well I was a senior in high school. A girl I meet at Stagedoor Manor. And I lied about being a virgin and we both had absolutely no clue what we were doing.” You turned to look at Mackie. “It was in my first serious relationship. I knew sex was important to me, and I wanted to wait till I was ready.” You looked up from your taco when Mackie spoke. “Did you feel that you were ready to lose it?”

The boys looked at each other and then looked at you. They knew about you and Jack, and only met him a couple times but from how you described him to them, he seemed like a good guy. Or so they thought. “Is Jack pressuring you to be ready?” Mackie spoke to you quietly. You set your taco down as you leaned back against the couch cushion you set up on the floor. 

“Kinda. I keep on telling him that I need time to think about if I want to have sex, cause its a big deal to me. And every time we make out, he always tries to initiate it and I keep on saying no. and he did it again last night when we were celebrating our anniversary, and he Keeps on talking about how I don't trust him. and how if I love him I would have sex with him.” You said in rant-style toned. 

“First of all, he shouldn't be pressuring you at all. It's not HIS place to say when YOU are ready.  got that?” Mackie responded quickly. You nodded your head as he waited for him to continue. “Have you guys talked at all since last night?” Seb asked politely. “I tried reaching out to him, but we haven't spoken. And it hurts cause I do love him, but annoyed he doesn't respect my boundaries.” 

“Break up with him,” Seb said bluntly as he took a huge bit of his taco. “That’s not your place to say,” you spoke angrily. “Look, you are asking us for advice, and I'm giving you some. Is he making you uncomfortable in this situation?” Seb said looking at you. “I mean kin-” you said before Mackie spoke up. “Do you think he will ever respect your boundaries?” Mackie questioned. “Maybe ov-” 

“EHH! Nope wrong answers. You should be able to answer those with a confident yes. Otherwise, he isn't worth your time.” Mackie continued over you. You know they were right, and you have been thinking about it for a while. But this talk really helped you solidify your decision. 

“I'll think you guys are right,” you spoke as you took a final bite out of your taco. Mackie scoffed, “Damn right we are.” he added as he got up to throw away his trash. “We just care about you, Y/n, and don't want to see you in an unhealthy relationship,” Seb commented. You gave them both a soft, warm, smile. “Thank you.” 

“Now,” Seb said as he took the giant jar of skittles from behind his back and placed it in the circle, “let's really figure out which flavor is the best.”

[pinkrelish]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader

✶“So,” you leaned into the joke by lowering your voice to a provocative, airy tone, “What are you wearing?”✶

NSFW — smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, secretly getting off while the other doesn't know it, voice kink, perv!eddie, perv!reader

chapter: 7/15 [wc: 4.4k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11

AO3

Chapter 7: Satan Always Calls Collect

You shivered. The chilly air in the tiled hallway hit the dewy drops leftover from your shower, sending an eruption of goosebumps down your exposed legs. In your slippers, you shuffled to the ice machine, filled your floppy ice pack, and returned to your dorm room, where you were more comfortable limping to your bed despite not seeing another soul. Weekends were quiet on the athletic side of campus.

Getting ready for the night, you threw back your bed covers looking forward to a long rest; a nice relaxing time knowing your alarm clock was set two hours later than usual. That is, until the phone on the shared bedside table rang.

Sagging, you answered expecting your roommate to say she forgot something, “Hello?”

“Hey.” Your stomach clenched and flipped at his distorted voice over the line. “Was just thinking about you. Sorry it’s been two weeks.”

“Don’t tell me you read a magazine that said you should wait that long to call a girl, Munson.”

Exhaling in a short scoff, he set down a metal can of whatever he was drinking; a hollow tink, presumably an empty beer. “I’m afraid my magazines don’t have many articles giving dating advice in them.” Images of naked babes posed on cars entered your mind. Probably the same titles he collected when he was younger. Sounding more apologetic, he said, “I meant to call sooner. Between getting band stuff going, researching and writing out the rest of this campaign, and other bullshit, I’ve been busy. Just coming home and crashing at night.”

“And what about your homework?”

“Yeah.. Definitely been trying to–”

“Choose your words wisely.”

“..Copy someone else’s,” he caved. Popping the tab of another drink, he sipped a few times before he felt comfortable speaking again, in a much softer manner. “I missed you.”

Glancing at the door to make sure it was closed, you sank into your mattress and tried not to ruminate too deeply over him missing you. He’d said it before, there was no reason to latch onto it now. Playing it over, and over, again in your head. Wondering how often he missed you, or thought about you in general, and what sparked him to do so, and whether or not it was as frequent as you thought about him. And if those thoughts led to other thoughts.. Daydreams, even. The sort of questions you weren’t supposed to have about your best friend. “Missed you too, Eddie. You know, you have perfect timing. I just got out of the shower, and my roommates gone for the weekend over to her boyfriend’s.” Crinkly static responded. A buzzing lull as your words sank in through your thick skull. Putting your hand over your eyes, you explained, “That sounded weird. I meant I was getting ready for bed when you called.” You almost promised him you were wearing clothes, but that seemed like a suggestion too far in the area you were trying to avoid.

Except he careened right for it. “Not wearing your tracksuit, huh?”

“No.” God, you hated how high-pitched you went when you were grinning. Twirling the phone cord around your finger like a schoolgirl, cheesing so hard your cheeks hurt. “None of the windbreaker stuff you hate.. I’m wearing pink pajamas with little ladybugs on them.”

Embarrassing.

He snickered. “Sounds cute. Do you really go to bed at 8:30 like an old lady?”

“I am old,” you insisted. In the background, you heard him walking through his trailer, assuming from the kitchen to his room with the phone tucked to his shoulder, falling to his bed with a nasally huff directly into the microphone.

No amount of shame could keep your body demure. In any other context, you wouldn’t have noticed the soft fabric of your adorable matching pajama set brushing over your nipples; an action that would be ignored on any other occasion, if it weren’t for them being coaxed from their half-hardened state to fully erect with the knowledge of where your mind was wandering.

Listening intently, there was no mistaking Eddie’s long exhale as he shifted, and the grind of a zipper being pulled.

“So,” you leaned into the joke by lowering your voice to a provocative, airy tone, “What are you wearing?”

If you could bottle his laugh, you would. It would be lacking the nuances of how his chest shook, the intricacies of his short curls bouncing, and the twinkle in his eye when his gaze slid to yours, but it would suffice on these lonely nights made less lonely by him.

“I’m–just takin’ my jacket off,” he was quick to excuse, stunting his words in a believable way for someone struggling to remove the heavy-ass layers they wore when it wasn’t even cold out. “Wearing my Hellfire shirt, which reminds me.. I couldn’t help but notice you stole my other one.”

Your fingers sought the keepsake stashed beneath your pillow out of instinct. “Oops, my bad.”

“Couldn’t possibly be because you’re planning on making the drive to join us again?” He didn’t allow you time to reject the offer. “The brats have been bothering me about you.” Sucking in a long breath, you could visualize him struggling between a nod of approval and an admonishing shake. “They think they can weasel their way out of everything by concocting these asinine scenarios, like flirting with a magically locked door to open it. You’re a bad influence on them, y’know, you shattered my illusion of being the big scary DM, and now they think I’ll give in to their demands if they’re creative enough.”

“You poor baby,” you mocked, “Sounds like you don’t even want me there.”

“I want you here.”

Instant. An ache in your chest. Lump in your throat. A single sentence washing over you, bathing you, soothing you. Snaking its way around your body. Muddying your apprehensions. He just.. said it so boldly, and immediately with conviction. Serious. Not at all matching your cooing lilt.

You laid back in bed, and if the phone cord happened to drag over your clothed tits and brush your nipples as you switched hands, thus causing you to suck in your bottom lip between your teeth, then so be it. The sensation was electric. All pleasure. And he didn’t have to know.

Back to reality, you stifled a pained grunt from lifting your right leg onto the bed. Sighing in relief at the ice pack numbing your knee.

“That was quite a noise you just made,” he said, deeper in register, a little slower and coming from his chest. Helplessly gravelly, and directly into your ear pressed against the sweaty plastic.

And yeah, your sigh came out more as a whimper than you intended. “I told you I’m getting old,” you said, slipping the top button of your shirt undone. “Gotta ice my knee after every practice. And my hips, and my left shoulder after uneven bars, both ankles–especially after having two surgeries on the right one a few years ago. God, and don’t even get me started on my back.” The next button gave easily, and your tired body was accepted by your fluffy blankets. Weary head resting amongst the pillows as your eyes fell closed.

Your callused fingertips made contact with the sensitive skin of your clavicle and Eddie continued in the same measured cadence, “Are you taking care of yourself?”

Eyes very open and mouth very shut, you glanced around your room, unnerved he chose the very second your thumb strummed over your nipple to ask that question in that way. “Wait, what?”

“Are you eating properly and giving your body a break?”

Oh. “Yes and definitely not. I told you my money is mine now, so everything’s getting better. I mean, I can afford these cute pajamas, at least. No more canned green beans on plain rice and stealing my roommate’s ketchup, for me. Plus, I get free food at my job.” You opened the rest of your shirt, bare chest rising and falling in the indecent way it should when you stopped resisting your cravings. “Can’t make any promises about my body.”

His sudden caring attitude erred on the side of doting. “I just worry about you pushing yourself too hard, sometimes.”

Thumb and index giving yourself light pinches, your jaw slackened as your body didn’t, running one leg up the other until both your thighs squeezed tight. “That’s what comes with the sport. Teenage glory and then an early retirement when your knees no longer work.” He made a gruff sound from his throat. “Why do you care? I’m the one who got a silver medal on vault last Nationals. I’m geriatric, Eddie. It happens.” Your pinches escalated in strength, causing you to press your tongue to your teeth in order to discipline yourself from being so obvious.

“Is it so wrong I want you to be healthy?”

“It’s annoying.”

“Oh, but I like annoying you.” His smirk preceded his teasing remark. An undue bite to his inflection, like he was enjoying himself far too much.

And maybe you enjoyed the idea of him caring about you too much, too.

Flattening your palm to your belly, your fingernails grazed your delicate skin on their course downward. With the phone nestled under your cheek, you used your other hand to pull the tie of your shorts loose, and slid your fingers beneath the waistband, climbing over your mound. The tip of your middle finger paused at the height of where you needed it most. Tempting your desire to test the naughtiness of it all, holding your breath as you debated if this was crossing a line; and as your free hand cupped your breast, and the backside of your thumb teetered on the precipice of a bad idea, his warm voice pushed you over the edge.

“I’ll just have to take care of you, then, if you’re not going to do it yourself.”

A stroke: thumb, and middle finger. Acute delight fluttering your inhale, and a deep rapture between your legs. Once, twice, then a little circle. Back and forth.

“Oh? And how do you suppose you’ll do that?”

“Come back to Hawkins and find out.”

Not falling for that one. Speak all the fantasies you had aloud in that honeyed rasp of his, he would do nothing to relieve your stress. In fact, you were sure he went out of his way to avoid touching you at DND, acting out the goblin’s chants by gripping the other guy’s shoulders, whispering menacingly in their ear, drumming his fingers along their backs to creep them out. Except when it came to your turn. Your hair stood on end in anticipation. And he walked past you to sing the last sinister verse on his throne. Like you didn’t exist.

What was he going to do if you drove the 16 hour round trip? Massage your lower back through sheer will alone?

Heartbreak awaited you in Hawkins. That’s it.

“Tempting offer,” you mused past the sting of a lost cause, past the dulled pain of unrequited feelings, arriving at the selfish lust of pretending he was as affected by this phone call as you.

Delving lower, you crooked your fingers and glided your arousal to your clit, swirling more vigorous, purposeful, and needy patterns of bliss. Burning in a hot flush taking over you with the phone trapped beneath the side of your face, turned in a way that would allude to you looking at him laying next to you, noses and lips touching his. A perfect delusion. Somehow, you expelled your excuses coherently, “It’s not like when we were kids; I have training every morning before class, and a second session after, and I pick up hours at work when I can. Not to mention, you know, the actual classes, and exams, and stuff; the reason I’m here, if you remember?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you in your off season? Meant for recovery?”

Astute observation. “Coach, uh..” This clinical conversation was not exactly fueling your perversions. “I haven’t been given much of a break ‘cause Coach wanted me to test into the Elite program, and start vying for a spot on the ‘88 Olympic team.. I’d be able to take sponsorships, if I did. Sounds better than having my clothes smell like grease, and being subjected to drunk frat boys hitting on me for a paycheck.”

A little less groggy, he said in an excited lurch, “That’s an amazing opportunity, tell me you’re considering it.”

“I dunno..” An honest insecurity warbled your dilemma. “That’s still years away, and I’d definitely have to drop out of college to focus on it. And yeah, who knows what condition my body will be in at that point. Twenty-three-years-old is practically one foot in the grave for gymnasts. Can’t imagine competing when I can already feel myself slowing down. I’d rather retire young, finish college, and join the circus.”

He sighed your name– In frustration or something more tender, you weren’t sure since you interrupted him to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“Can we talk about anything else?” you asked.

His hard swallow funneled from Indiana to Pennsylvania. From his mouth to your ear. States away, but loud and clear.

Long pause.

Two fingers deep, you closed your eyes from staring at the ceiling, tongue lulled in a silent moan. Hips chasing the heel of your palm in search of the building tension ramping to mind-altering degrees. Forgetting everything that wasn’t in direct sight of your release. Including the near-mute whine escaping with your exhale. Fucking yourself at a faster tempo, imagining he’d be the kind to like it that way. Interrupting your gasps of his name with each thrust. His face, reddened from effort, hovering above yours. His hair sweeping your cheeks. Building. Building. Sending a wanton throb to your clit. Begging for the expertise of your thumb while your fingers were buried in your willing cunt closing in tight around inadequacy.

Long pause.

His mattress springs creaked before you became muffled to the world. His soft breath was replaced by the harsh noise of fabric rubbing against the mic. You jerked away, nose wrinkled at the loudness of it all, about to ask if he dropped the phone when he came back.

“We can talk about whatever you want,” he enunciated in a sweltering union of coercion and dare.

————

Eddie didn’t remember when, exactly, it happened, but he did recall forgiving it as an involuntary response to his nerves.

Metal can to lips, happiness resided. The first beer he downed quickly, but was still too aware of his inhibitions. It did little to hush his pounding heart stuttering his breaths, nor quench his dry mouth. The second drink was better at eliminating the shake in his fingers. The third dulled his face until it tingled under his prodding, feeling the sensation beneath a buzzing layer of haze.

The strip of your character sheet was balled in his sweaty fist. Resolute, he punched the number in order.

It was possible his body reacted to that first ring. Or when you attempted to disguise your annoyed tone under an air of curiosity when you answered with a curt, “Hello?” Or, maybe, his pants became uncomfortably snug when the both of you implied he needed dating advice to talk to you; his friend.

Or it happened when you mentioned what you were wearing.

Freshly showered. In bed all alone. Implying much, and saying so little.

Yeah, he definitely cupped himself then, reveling in the satisfaction of his hardon being treated with the kindness it deserved.

He didn’t waste time taking off his shoes before he was stretching the phone cord to its limits to reach his room. Falling into bed, laying slightly propped up by his pillow. An excited jitteriness to his movements as he unfastened his belt, leather ends dropping to either side of his hips, sucking in his stomach to unbutton his jeans, but as sneaky as he was, you heard the zipper struggle over the bulk of his increasing neediness. “I’m–just takin’ off my jacket,” he said, tilting his head up to escape the groan begging to be announced when his red boxers stretched to their limits in a swell between the black lanes his jeans created. Freed from its cage.

Not once did shame enter his mind. He knew his limits. He could be quiet. He could be quick. He could keep it routine. He was simply taking care of a momentary lapse in judgment, and you didn’t have to know. It wouldn’t get out of hand. Hell, he could even manage to carry a coherent conversation with you. Coherent, but a little apparent where his mind resided, repeatedly mentioning your body.

He shoved his Hellfire shirt up to his chest, giving himself ample room for later.

“Are you taking care of yourself?”

Why did you have to react that way, seconds after gifting him with the most delicious moan when you climbed into bed? Sucking in a breath like a gasp; so sweet and innocent, and naive to the rate at which his depravity shattered his illusion of self-control.

Are you hungry, sweetheart? I’ll make you dinner, just sit there and look pretty for me.

Groping his clothed length, he tightened his fist until his fingers circled around himself. Tugging once, twice. Dragging the tip to where it peeked out from under the waistband. Sticky precum glistening in a strand leading to his belly.

You’re tired, baby? Let me draw you a bath. Yes, of course I’ll join you. Don’t worry.

Stroke after stroke, he immersed himself in his fantasy.

But first, tell me where it hurts. Trust me. I’ll take care of you.

It was a secret he’d take to the grave. How much he wanted to be the one you sought after practice. Still dressed in your leotard. Smelling of chalk, sweat, and foam. Providing you with the needs you neglected. Nurturing you in the ways he could. Your muscles are sore? Let me massage them for you. Your thighs are shaking? Come lay down, my Light.

Eddie tried to keep his breathing level as he rocked side to side, shoving his jeans and boxers down. It was torture telling you to come back to Hawkins when he knew he wouldn’t act on his impulses and learn the different ways you could articulate his name.

Just friends. Just friends, he told himself as his skilled hand tamed his urges. Fitting his palm to the underside, fingers curled with his index lifted from the rest, black ring glimmering as he slid his grip upwards. A pleasant brush over the lipped edge. Itching for more, but some part of him wanted to savor the novelty of talking to you while he touched himself. Sullying the image of his perfect girl on her way to becoming an Olympian.

If only you knew how young he was when this idea first sprang to his mind..

What about between those strong thighs, sweetheart? I can make you feel better there, too.

Oh, how he wanted to bury himself there.

His hips jerked. Pumping his fist without his permission. He wanted to make this last. Explore those visions which became more frequent after seeing you train at the rec center. Delve into this region of the late-night images he tried to resist as of late, only to wake up covered in a mess. Dreaming of fucking his best friend and how gently he’d do it.

God, what he would give to have that reality. You sitting on the bed. Any bed. How he’d kneel before you on the floor, running his hands up your calves. Treating you to his thumbs massaging into the muscle. Relaxing you after a long day of training. Gazing into your eyes as he inserted himself between your legs. Slipping his fingers beneath the straps of your leotard, peeling it away from your exhausted body, sliding it over your shoulders. Chasing open-mouth kisses over the unclean skin he wasn’t familiar with. Salt mixing with his spit. Lapping at the column of your throat. Grazing his teeth over your pulse. Lower. Cherishing your warmth. Lower. Teasing the flesh responding to his prompting. He needed to go lower as you tangled his hair in your fists.

Stripping your upper half from the confining uniform, he would expose you for his veneration only. Pursuing where your stuttered speech commanded him. As tender as his hand cradling the back of your head lowering you to the mattress. As enthusiastic as his lips discovering boundaries beyond your friendship.

Even in his fantasies, every now and then, he’d keep your clothing on. He’d never admit he liked it in some ways. Implying how unhinged he was in taking you, that he couldn’t wait for you to undress.

He’d simply trace the edge of your leotard cutting from the crease of your hip to where you begged him to serve you. Moving the fabric aside to flirt, and lick, and suckle until his name was muffled from your thighs enclosing around his face, bucking against his tongue tasting you for the first time. Hailing him to the heavens as he honored you on his knees.

Then, he’d flip you over. Snatch the backside of your tight clothing and wedge it between your round ass. Hiking your hips up with a firm slap on your leg. Outlining your plump pussy under the taut fabric covered in the praise he gave you. Obeying the overwhelming desire to grind himself into the curve of your cunt and add his own decadence dripping down your beautiful thighs.

Fuck, he didn’t mean to sigh your name as he stroked his cock.

“Can we talk about anything else?” you asked.

Smothering the phone against his chest, Eddie rolled onto his shoulder and swirled his tongue around his mouth a few times, then spat into his hand.

It was a miracle he could speak with clarity.

“Of course.” Could you hear the lewd slap he was making, driving his hand up and down his shaft, trying and failing to keep a moderate pace? “Anything exciting you want to tell me?”

“Mmm,” you drew out the hum and he swore he could feel the vibration in his chest. “I’m going to New Jersey next week with a few girls from the team. We’re going to the beach.”

Faster. An open invitation for him to picture you in a bikini. Running his hands up your waist to the underside of your tits. Letting an accident take place; a loose string, and he’d have to help cover you up, and you’d thank him for being so chivalrous by using your mouth.

“Sounds cool. Never been to the beach.”

“One of them has a camera, so I can take some pictures for you. We went last year, too. The ocean’s really pretty.”

Faster, again, because your voice was getting huskier. A hushed caress along his cheek. Likely because you were falling asleep on him, but he didn’t care. Didn’t care. Didn’t care. So sweet and soft for him. Easing his fingers over his cock to your pretty voice coming from your pretty mouth. Each pump, each digit, each squeeze and twist of his wrist at the top bringing him closer to the edge.

There it was again–your quiet intake of breath being released as a whiny plea away from the phone.

Head tipped, he choked back a groan, and thrusted into his fist as if his palm were you, no longer concerned about the consequences of being caught.

You kept him on the line, “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Oh, baby.

Observing his red knuckles in a bout of lucidity, he played up his complaining to garner your sympathy, “Playing mechanic around the trailer park. Gotta be the one to fix everything for everybody. My hand got a little scraped up, though.”

“Aw,” you purred, “Want me to kiss it better?”

This was it. This was it. He was gonna–

Feathery, jumpy sentences spilled from his mouth all at once, “Hey–sweetheart–something just came up. I’ll call you back. Okay?”

You stuttered as well–an Angel’s hymn to his devilish ways, “Y-Yeah. Bye.”

He didn’t have time to hang up.

Slamming the phone to the side of his mattress, he prayed you couldn’t hear his groan of your name break on his tongue. Silent moans escaping past his sealed lips when he dropped his head back. Toes curling right as his thighs twitched and flexed. Erratic movements interrupting his rhythm. Panting as a throb trembled him. Desperately fucking a poor replacement for his best friend’s pussy.

“That’s it–fuck.”

Chest falling in great huffs, he watched his cum land on his shirt, covering him while his strokes faltered, slowed, using his dripping climax as lube. Body jerking from overstimulation. Sliding his thumb over the intoxicating nerves telling him to stop. But it felt so good to picture you straddling him, bouncing relentlessly until he was begging for mercy.

“Holy shit,” he sighed. And then a disenchanted, “Jesus,” as he looked at the mess cooling on his skin, alone in his bed, clear-headed and aware he would never have what he wanted, despite the temporary stupidity clouding his mind moments ago, encouraging him to risk it all.

A sober realization after the best orgasm he’d experienced in his recent years.

Racing heart on the decline, he faced his fears and picked up the phone.

When the dial tone reached him, he mumbled something in relief and let it fall to the floor, listening to the cord drag it back into the hallway while he body went lax, and his vision went dark with his arms crossed over his face.

————

Your phone sat crooked on the receiver.

“Ed–” you couldn’t complete his name, lost to the aftershocks of your climax. Circling your fingers again, and again, over your sensitive clit until, at last, you couldn’t handle more, and went languid. Blinking at the blurry ceiling, accepting it was time to surrender to your drowsy eyelids and sleep.

Reaching for the lamp, you noticed the phone wasn’t hung up. You scrambled for it, and held it up to your ear, listening to the other end of the line. More staticky fabric noise.

Eddie probably drank more than he let on and dropped it again. Meaning he didn’t hear you coach him into fucking you harder, faster at the height of your yearning. Thank God.

You ended the call for him.

That was close.

Taglist: @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @myfavoritesareproblematic @henhouse-horrors @tlclick73 @sidthedollface2 @i-will-duckyou-up @qnsfwthoughts @captainonaboat @eddiemuns0nl0ver @godcreatoreli @harrys-tittie @eg-dr3amer3 @trixyvix88 @venomsvl @lacrymosa-24 @sashaphantomhive @sharp-and-swift @emokid-ellie @mantorokk-writes @drdvlss @mirrorsstuff @bebe0701 @eddiethesexy 

[athena-writes-i-guess]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

A/N: Hello! So a few months ago I was on here and saw this post and thought that was something Eddie would def say if he was teaching you to drive. So here’s a little blurb about that for all my friends out there who are nervous drivers!

“Okay baby, so just put it into drive and ease off of the brake, then slowly press down on the gas.” Eddie said gently as he rubbed your back soothingly.

You nodded as you let out a shaky breath and gripped the steering wheel, your knuckles turning white with how tightly you were holding it. You turned to your boyfriend, Eddie Munson, as he gave you an encouraging smile and nod from his spot in the passenger seat.

You were in his van in an empty parking lot as he tried to teach you to drive. Again. You were past 16, past the time most people learned to drive, but you had always been too afraid to learn. The idea of being in control of such a large, dangerous, vehicle had always been frightening. What if you crashed? What if you hit someone? So for years now, Eddie had been driving you everywhere, with no complaint from him, in fact he really loved driving you places; to work, to dates, to school when you were both going. But he could see how stuck you felt when he was gone and couldn’t take you somewhere, so he offered again to teach you when you were ready and a few days ago you had told him that you thought you were.

But now, as you felt the giant beast of a van rumble under you, you weren’t so sure anymore.

You shot Eddie a small, anxious, smile before you put the van into drive and gripped the wheel again. You sat there for a moment, staring forward as you willed yourself to take your foot off of the brake.

“It’s okay baby, I know you can do it.” He said, moving his hand to your leg to gently rub your thigh soothingly. “You totally got this sweetheart.”

“Thanks Eds.” You mumbled out. You took a deep breath with a nod and lifted your foot off of the brake and the van moved forward slowly. You then pressed down on the gas and the van lurched quickly, causing you to squeak and slam your foot on the brake again.

Eddie let out a bark of a laugh, giving you an apologetic grin when you shot him a glare. “Sorry, sweet thing, but we’ve all done it, I promise. You should have seen me in the car with Wayne the first time I tried.” He cooed, rubbing your thigh again. “You can do this, honey.” He said, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek. “You’re a fucking badass, you got this.”

You sighed and tried again, lifting your foot off of the brake. But this time you slowly pushed down on the gas pedal and the van eased forward, gently making its way down the aisle of the parking lot. Eddie whooped loudly as you were finally driving for the first time. “Yeah baby! You’re doing it!” He exclaimed, “Now take this turn and drive around the whole lot!” He said pointing to the left so you could turn down the next aisle. “I knew you could do it sweetheart!” He said, bouncing in his seat happily.

You drove around the lot for maybe another 30 minutes with Eddie telling you to make different turns and moves to get used to moving the van around. You could see how proud Eddie was as he looked at you and squeezed your thigh in excitement and you were beaming with joy as you finally grew more confident behind the wheel.

“Okay baby, this may be a lot, but I think that you should drive us back to the trailer park, okay?” Eddie suggested, giving you another encouraging look. “You’re amazing, you can do it.”

“Are you sure Eds? There’s other cars out there, I don’t know if I can do that yet.” You said as you slowed the van down to a crawl.

“I know you can, baby, I know it.” He said, gesturing his head towards the exit to the lot.

“Okay, if you’re sure Eddie baby.” You said, flashing him a nervous smile as you led the van towards the exit to the road. You had to make a turn to get through it and tried to judge how close you were to the curb, having never had to do that before.

You hesitated momentarily before turning around it. Unfortunately, not enough, as you hit the edge and went over it, squealing in surprise and slamming on the break again. “I’m so sorry Eddie! I’m such a bad driver. I’m sorry!” You said quickly, burying your face in your hands, his heart ached at how disappointed in yourself you seemed.

“Hey, hey, hey!” He exclaimed, leaning over to wrap an arm around you and gently pulled your hands away from your face. “Hey baby. Look at me.” You turned and looked into those deep brown orbs, so full of love and pride. “You are a good driver! That curb doesn’t belong there!” He said pointing out the window. “Curbs are a man made thing babe, and you can run over them if you need to! I do it all the time.” He said with a cheeky smile, you watched as it brightened when you let out a relieved chuckle.

“Thank you baby. But can you drive us home please? I don’t think I’m ready just yet.” You asked, putting the van in park.

“Of course, sweet thing. We can try another time, okay? When you’re ready again.” He smiled before pressing a kiss to your cheek again as you nodded.

You both jumped out of the van and you found Eddie at the back doors. He beamed at you again and wrapped his arms around you before capturing your lips in a sweet, excited kiss. “You’re a fucking rockstar, babe.” He said as he pulled back, you flushed under the adoring look he gave you. “A fucking rockstar.” He said again before kissing you again and spinning you around, basking in your giggles.

Taglist: @srapalestina @yvonneeeee @aroseinvelaris @anaisweird @mrslovesmayahawke @harrys-titties @becca-alexa @catacina

[roosterbruiser]

𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✯ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

✯ 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 "𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐚𝐧" 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐘𝐨𝐮 (𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞: 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲) ✯ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: The second tornado of the summer happens upon Silverkeep. ✯ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.5k ✯ 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✯ 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲'𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞 #𝟏 ✯ 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞'𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞 #𝟏 ✯ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✯ 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐓𝐗 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟐𝟕𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟖

It doesn’t often storm in Silverkeep, especially during the summer season. But when it does--when those moody clouds roll in from the west in ominous waves of endless black, heavy with rain and thick with thunder--it rains hard. It starts sometime during the night, long after you and Jake have gone to sleep in your own bedrooms. 

He’s a heavy sleeper and doesn’t stir when the first flash of lightning breaks the sky open. He doesn’t stir when thunder shakes the trailer or when rain starts pattering against the naked screen of his window. 

You’ve always woken up to storms, ever since you were little. You used to be afraid of them, nosediving into your parents bed and clinging to your daddy at the very first sign of rain. But now that you’re older, and maybe a bit wiser, you don’t run into your parents room. You just blink yourself away and watch it roll in, the sleepy town alight with electricity each time lightning cracks. 

Jake only wakes up when Fran knocks on his bedroom door at four in the morning. It’s not a frantic knock, but it’s enough to jolt Jake right out of his slumber. He’s swiping drool off his mouth and sitting up, his comforter tangled around his legs and his hair standing up in every direction. 

“It ain’t lookin’ good out there,” Fran says through the door, her voice thick with purpose. “I told Filly and them to come on over. I don’t got a good feelin’ about them clouds.”

Jake is out of it. There’s a sheen of sweat over his skin and his eyelids are crusted over and his breathing is still deep and even. He has no idea what his mama is talking about. 

“Mama, what’re you--?”

But then he hears it: the sirens. Tornado sirens. So, then he’s detangling himself from the bedding he’s laying in, springing himself out of bed and pulling on whatever pajama shorts he kicked off in the night. He’s still trying to wake up, tired aching his bones, but he’s moving rapidly. 

Fran opens her only son’s door and beholds him in his dark room for a moment--his chest is rising and falling rapidly, his cheeks paled and his feet bare. She can tell he only just woke up--he’s a heavy sleeper just like his daddy. 

“Jake,” she says softly, sternly. He looks up at her, his teeth sunk into his lower lip. “You go on and grab Callie. Brandy and Harper are in the cellar. I’m gonna grab some flashlights and wait on Filly and her folks. Alright?” 

Jake nods. His ears are ringing. The wail of the sirens is loud--so loud that he can feel it in his bones. He can hear the thunder and lightning now that he’s awake and standing upright, too.

Fran looks as bewildered as she always does, but Jake feels like she’s anchoring everyone here now. She knows what she’s talking about and everyone here knows better than to not listen to her. 

“Yes, mama,” he mutters. 

He jams his feet into old tennis shoes, socks be damned, and hurries himself to Callie’s bedroom across the hall. It’s less of a bedroom and more of a linen closet, but it’s quiet in there without any windows so Callie is sleeping soundlessly. 

“Cal,” Jake says, his voice thin. She doesn’t stir. “Callie-girl, c’mon. We gotta go.” 

She shows no signs of moving, sprawled across her mattress with her mouth wide open and her eyes shut tight. 

Jake’s belly is starting to turn--especially when another crack of thunder shakes the trailer. So, he just leans down and scoops Callie up in his arms. Really, she’s too big for him to be doing this. He should wake her up and have her walk. But there’s a sense of urgency charging the air now, one that’s tingling his fingers. 

“What are you doin’?” Callie asks as she comes to. She’s vaguely aware that she’s being carried by her brother and that he blanket is dragging behind them as he hurries both of them down the hall. “Jake, what the Hell?” 

“Would you just listen?” Jake snaps, nudging the backdoor open. 

It wails and groans, just like it always does, and then they’re outside. It’s green, just like it always is when there’s a tornado. An uneasy haze settling over the disjunct swingset and flooded sandbox. The rain is pelting the patchy grass and slicing into Jake’s skin. Callie covers her face and Jake tugs her closer to him despite himself. 

The sirens are louder out here, loud enough that it’s making Callie’s ears pulse. She gives in to Jake carrying her, wrapping her arms around his chest, forgetting all about her blanket dragging in the mud behind them. 

“C’mon!” Harper calls from the cellar doors, waving Jake over. “Get in!” 

He lets Callie go in first, setting her on the concrete stairs. And then he nudges Harper. 

“Y’go on,” he tells her. “I’m gonna wait for mama and Filly.” 

Harper doesn’t need to be told twice--she’s soaked to the bone and her perm is going to fall out, she just knows it. She tried to wrap it up with plastic grocery bags, but the wind knocked them askew and now that’s two hundred dollars Curtis is never gonna see again. 

The air feels perfect--he knows that’s trouble. It ain’t too hot and it ain’t too cold and that’s when tornadoes like to touch down. He can see lights coming on and off in the house as his mama flounders around for rations and blankets and towels, but his belly is turning waiting for you and your folks. 

“Just come in, Jake,” Brandy says from the cellar, throwing her hair up in a ponytail. “C’mon. They’ll be fine!” 

He glances down at the cellar, which is lit by a measly lantern. It’s an ugly and dirty thing, but it’s spacious. There’s jars of fruit preserves and Christmas decorations stuffed down there, lining the dirt walls, but there’s still enough room for everyone. 

“I’ll close the doors, alright? Get back so you don’t get wet now,” Jake says. It isn’t often that he gives his sister’s this kind of grace and humility and it isn’t often that they accept it. But they do, shuffling back. He grabs the big doors and nods once. “You’ll be alright.” 

Just as they fall closed, he hears it. Footsteps slapping the mud, hollering. 

He squints through the green haze of rain and sees you, your mama, and your daddy sprinting across the side yard. You’re all soaked to the bone, hurrying across the mud and holding each other’s hands. 

“C’mon,” Jake calls, waving y’all over. “Almost there!” 

Fran appears at the backdoor, carrying heaps of towels and food and flashlights. And before Jake registers what’s happening, your daddy is hurrying over to her and taking a load of her items as you and your mama hurry to the cellar. 

Jake pries the doors open, his heart in his throat, and lets your mama down first while she tries to wipe her face dry in vain. You pause before Jake, your hair flat and clinging to your head, and give him a grin. 

“It’s the end of the world,” you tell him, mockingly holding your hands up and ooo’ing. Jake scoffs, nudging your shoulder. “At least we’re together!”

“Get in the damn cellar,” Jake tells you, biting a grin. 

You salute. 

“Yes, sir!” 

“Jake, you go on and get in now!” Your daddy calls, his voice booming across the yard. He’s helping Fran cross the mud, squinting. “S’alright!”

Jake climbs into the cellar, then, leaving the doors open. It smells like cinnamon and dirt down here, a scent he is not very fond of. He doesn’t like being in the cellar, especially during tornadoes, and he wishes he was back in bed. 

“My hair,” Harper cries, ripping the grocery bag off her head. Her curls are wet. “Damn rain! Dammit!” 

“Oh, honey,” your mama tells her, moving to hold her shoulders. “It’s okay, we can fix it!” 

“You ain’t supposed to get a perm wet,” Brandy tells your mama. She’s already rolling her eyes at Harper’s antics. “Dummy.” 

Your mama tuts. 

“Hush now,” she tells Brandy. She grew up with sisters--she remembers what it’s like. “We’ll take care of it, alright? Don’t go worryin’ yourself about it. It’ll be just fine in time for the weddin’, okay?” 

You’re watching your mama silently. It’s dark in here, but you can still see the softness etched onto her pretty features. She understands the Seresin girls much better than you do--all that crying and whining about makeup and hair and nails. It’s something you don’t have an interest in, something you can’t get yourself to fret about. When your mama pulls Harper onto her shoulder, tutting and sighing as she cries, something in your chest suddenly feels hollow.

“Jesus,” Fran says as she steps down the stairs, dropping the towels and flashlights on the floor. “Wetter than a mad hen out there!”

“Mama,” Callie sighs. “You got it all turned around. 

“It’s called making it applicable, girly.”

Your daddy pulls the cellar doors shut and everything grows quieter and darker. Everything’s okay now--everyone is here, everyone is safe. 

“We all alright?” Your daddy asks, looking around at everyone’s flaxen faces. “Filly?”

Swallowing hard, you nod. You won’t look at your mama and Harper. 

“I’m okay, daddy,” you say. 

“Good,” he says. He sighs. “Christ, we might be in here for a minute.”

Jake settles in beside you, sinking onto the cold floor. You don’t move, still watching Harper and your mama. But then Jake is tugging on your arm and you give in, blinking yourself out of a daze and joining him on the dirt. 

“You’re cold,” Jake says when he feels your chilled skin against his. He wraps an arm around you and pulls until you’re tucked up against his side. He grabs a towel, pulls it to the two of you, then throws it in your lap. “Dry off, Filly. You’ll freeze.” 

You pat your arms dry but don’t try and dry your hair or clothes. Your tank top is thin and your shorts are even thinner. Your hair is dripping down your back and your bottom lip is starting to quiver. 

Everyone is chatting amongst themselves now, your mama and the Seresin girls all trying to comfort Harper as she weeps openly. Your daddy and Franny are leaning against the dirt walls, cataloging all they were able to carry from the house. Jake is fiddling with a portable radio, trying to find a news channel. And you’re just sitting there--cold. 

“Bet you didn’t wake up ‘til the sirens went off, mustang,” you tease. Your laugh is a thin one, one that is coated in ice. “Sleepin’ like you’re dead.” 

Jake flushes. He’s glad it’s dark in here. 

“I actually woke up before the sirens! Thank you very much,” Jake lips, glancing at you over his shoulder.

“Oh, yeah. Was it when your mama knocked your door down?”

Jake doesn’t say anything. You laugh again, covering your shoulders with the ratty, sun-bleached towel. It smells like the Seresin household--like nutmeg, dust, lemon.

“So funny,” Jake mutters, elbowing you. He finally flicks it to the right station and turns the volume up, settling the little radio between everyone. “Here we go.”

“--Strong winds pushing in towards the west. As you can probably hear, the sirens are going off, which means to take cover immediately. There’s been a funnel spotting in North Silverkeep and a touchdown just down yonder, near the spring.”  

The storm rages on overhead, the clouds swirling and swollen with rain. Thunder rolls past and lightning strikes as the funnel clouds search the town of Silverkeep for a flat place to touch down. Everyone can feel the charge in the air--it’s a familiar feeling. This is the second tornado of the summer. 

“Damn,” Jake mutters. “Gonna be stuck here for a while, huh?” 

“Well, I grabbed food,” Fran says hurriedly. “So, we’ll be alright.” 

“Yeah, if we get too hungry then we can just eat the dried oranges we string around the tree every year,” Brandy says, grinning. 

“Don’t forget the popcorn and cranberries,” Callie follows. 

“I oughta thump you girls for teasin’ your mama like that,” your mama says, her lips pursed. “Hush now.” 

By the second hour, you’re leaning all your weight on Jake. He’s shirtless, but somehow he’s warmer than you are tenfold. He’s got his arm around you and your cheek is squished against his chest, your hair still heavy with rain and your eyes growing dry. He can smell the oranges on your skin and you can smell the thick scent of his bedroom on his pajama bottoms. 

Everyone is nodding off now, tucked away in their little corners of the cellar. Your mama has the Seresin girls around her, each of them cuddling into her body. Just as she fell asleep, she smiled: rarely does she ever get to hold girls in her arms. You haven’t tried to cuddle with her since before kindergarten. Fran and your daddy are sitting closest to the stairs, leaning opposite ways and turning the lantern off to preserve the battery. 

“You awake?” Jake whispers. His voice is hardly audible above the rain, even with is lips attached to your ear. 

Through the pitch black of the room, you let your hand wander until it grasps his calf, which you squeeze to signal that yes, you’re awake. 

“You okay?” Jake asks. 

You haven’t said a whole lot since coming to the cellar. He knows that it’s past two in the morning and that you probably haven’t slept much--you always wake up when it storms. He knows that you have an early shift at the ice cream shop later that you’re probably dreading, too. But he feels like the kind of silent you are is indicative of something else. He saw you looking at your mama, all cuddled up with his sister’s, leaning into them and combing their hair with her fingers. 

“Fine,” you whisper. Your nose is cold as you press it into the middle of his chest. “You?”

“I’m always alright when I’m holdin’ you,” he whispers to you. 

Both of you swallow hard. 

You reach out--pinch him. He barely even jolts at the pain now, not when you've been doing that since toddlerhood.  

It’s quiet for a moment. 

Because it’s so dark and because he misses you and because you smell so good and because he knows you’re upset and because it’s storming, he decides to pull you onto his lap. No one will see--and if someone reaches for the lantern, he’ll hear it. And the radio is playing too loud for anyone to hear shuffling anyway. 

Your body is malleable under his palms. You allow him to gather your limbs and pull, heave until you’re settled on his lap. He’s holding you like a baby, the back of your head resting on his bicep and your cheek pressed against his chest. He even covers you both up with one of the blankets his mama brought down, and you hum when the feeling comes back into your toes. 

“Shit,” he whispers. “You’re still freezin’.” 

“Tell me about it,” you mumble back. 

A beat passes. Thunder groans distantly and the wind cries. 

“Why’re you upset?” He whispers finally. 

There’s no use in lying to Jake. Even if you tried to, he’d see right through you. Even in the dark. 

“Sometimes I feel like I’m not what people want,” you whisper. 

It’s something you’ve been thinking about for a while. Maybe if you were less brash and more attentive, Ruth would’ve told you what had her in a good mood. Maybe if you were politer and cared about your hair more, your mama would hold you. Maybe if you were quieter and nicer, Hyde would let you sit in the front seat sometimes. Maybe if you were cleaner and prettier like Emmaline Odette, Jake wouldn’t leave. 

Jake swallows. 

“Like how?” 

You bite your lip. 

“I dunno,” you lie. He pinches your hip. You sigh. “Like, maybe people would like me better if I was girlier?” 

Jake wants to laugh. The image of you acting any differently than you do now is about as funny to him as an ape wearing a dress and heels. It simply ain’t natural. 

“Since when do you care about people likin’ you?” He asks. 

“Since all my friends are leavin’,” you tell him. 

His chest grows tight. 

Oh. He’d forgotten about that. He’d forgotten that you’re going to be the only one left here, the rest of them away at college. It’s easy to forget that when this summer feels so infinite, so exciting. He’s so caught up with you and your mouth and your love. 

“I’m only gonna be an hour away,” he says softly. He doesn’t know if he’s saying it for you or for him. 

“That’s a lifetime for us,” you whisper. 

He knows you’re right. 

“That don’t matter to me,” he whispers. It’s true--it doesn’t matter to him. “Lifetimes, hours, minutes, seconds. S’all the same, isn’t it?” 

“No,” you answer quietly. But your heart is swollen with affection now. “You like me how I am, don’t you? You’re gonna miss me when you’re gone, right? And you’ll think of me?” 

If he was braver, he’d say: no. I don’t like you the way you are. I love you the way you are. And I miss you right now, even, and I’m holding you. I think about you every minute of everyday. But he isn’t. So, instead, he just lightly kisses your forehead.  

“Of course,” he answers. He wants to tell you how badly he’s going to ache for you, but he feels like right now isn’t the time. Not when everyone else is sleeping, not when there’s tornado sirens wailing. “You’re gonna hitchhike down there, huh?”

You laugh quietly.

“Yeah,” you answer. “I’m sure that’ll end well for me.” 

He presses his nose into your hair. It’s fluffy now, frizzy. 

“I hope you don’t go changin’ anythin’ about yourself,” Jake says quietly. “Cause then I’ll have to get my shit together, too.” 

“You’ve got your shit together,” you tell him. “College boy.” 

He scoffs. 

“No, I don’t,” he answers. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’.” 

That makes you feel better--you don’t know what you’re doing either. 

“Well,” you whisper. “We can just not know anythin’ together.” 

Until August. 

“You tired?” He asks. 

Your eyes are heavy. 

“No,” you answer, though. “Wide awake.” 

He laughs quietly. 

“What should we talk about then?” 

“Hmmm. The end,” you answer. 

He laughs--unsure if you’re serious. 

“The end of what? The world?” 

“The end of everythin’,” you answer softly. 

He hums. 

“So, like, death?” He asks. You nod. “You’ve got some dark thoughts in that little head,” he tells you.

You’ve been thinking about ends for a while now. Everything ends, really. This summer will end. Your growing has ended, at least in terms of your height. The year will end. Your job will end. It’s all around you, really; all that finishing. 

“What happens when you die?” You ask. 

Jake hums. 

“Well, in the good book it says you go to heaven,” he answers. “You believe that?”

You shake your head. 

“Nah,” you answer. “I don’t think so.” 

Jake nods in agreement. 

“Me either.” 

“So, what do you think then?” You ask. “You die--then what?” 

Jake swallows hard. He doesn’t really have an issue talking about death. It’s just that it feels a bit like tempting fate to be talking about it during the storm of the summer, sitting in a dirt-floor cellar. 

“I think you become worm food,” Jake answers with a shrug. “You die, they put you in the ground, then that’s that. Your body decomposes and stinks and the worms eat you. Fin.” 

You wrinkle your nose. 

“Well, that’s what does happen,” you tell him. “But what happens?” You ask. You let your finger drift to his chest, pointing to his heart. You think that if there are souls, that must be where they rest: just around the heart, above the lungs. 

“So, like, souls?” He asks. You nod. “Nothin’ happens. The lights are on one day and off the next. Poof. No one’s home anymore.”

Maybe if you were someone else--someone like Emmaline, who clings to her religion with those manicured nails, or someone like Hyde that thoroughly believes in souls and reincarnation--you would accuse Jake of being morbid. But you understand him better than anyone else in the world ever has or ever will, probably.

You nod. Okay. That’s what he thinks. It’s okay. 

 “So, like, when your body dies--you just don’t exist anymore?” You ask. 

He nods. 

“That’s about right,” he says. “What do you think happens?” 

You think for a moment, meditating on your answer. 

“I guess when I imagine what happens after, I think about sittin’ up in a tree. Like, a really tall one. You know the one on Locust Street--the one we used to climb? And those grumpy old neighbors would come holler at us to get down?” You ask. 

Jake laughs softly. He remembers. The tree is an ancient thing, one that predates every single house in Silverkeep. When you two were younger, it felt like the tallest thing in the world. Taller than a skyscraper. Taller than the sky. 

“Uh huh,” he answers. He’s twirling your hair around his finger now, blinking at the dark. “I remember.” 

“Well, I like to think it’s like that kinda. Like, you die, right? And then you go up in the tree and sit on the highest branch,” you say. You’re imagining it now, your feet dangling above the crabgrass and the buckeyes. “You can feel the sun on your face and you can hear the music playing from the truck down the street. You can see everyone, too, but you can’t get down. And they can’t get up.” 

Jake’s fingers are numb. 

He’s gone to church every single Sunday since the day he was born, but that feels like the most religious thing he’s ever heard in his life. That is the kind of idea he can subscribe to. 

“You ever considered preachin’?” Jake whispers. He holds your cheek, feel that smile growing on your lips. “Cause I’d be in your congregation.” 

“Well, you don’t believe in what I do,” you answer. “So, that wouldn’t work.” 

“I could believe it,” he tells you. “You could make me believe just about anythin’.” 

Another beat passes. Thunder shakes the cellar. 

“Wouldn’t it be lonesome? Sittin’ up there by yourself? Watchin’ everyone else on the ground?” 

“Yeah,” Jake agrees. “It would.” 

He sniffles, sinks his nose into your hair and pulls you closer to him.

“Filly?” He whispers. 

“Yeah?” 

He swallows hard. You tangle your fingers in his hair. 

“I don’t wanna sit in a tree and watch you down below.” 

He thinks about it: hearing your laugh echo up the branches, watching you swell with life, seeing you stretch into a woman, smelling those oranges so distantly. It makes him sick to his stomach to think about. 

“Yeah, me either,” you tell him.

“You can’t die before me,” Jake tells you. He’s being serious. “I won’t have it, Filly.”  

“We can just die on the same day.”

That seems to lull the both of you into a content state. Okay. You will die on the same day and sit in a tree and feel the sun on your cheeks and watch your feet dangle above the world of the living forever. And it will be okay. 

You find his cheeks in the darkness and hold them in your palms, raising your face to his. It’s so dark that you can’t even see his silhouette. Your daddy is snoring. The radio is crackling. The sirens are still calling. You press your nose against Jake’s and hold yourself there as his grip tightens around your body. 

“I don’t ever wanna be without you,” Jake whispers. He’s choked up just thinking about it, just thinking about leaving. Because as endless as this summer feels, it’s already almost July. “I don’t think I’ll survive.” 

“We’ll be alright,” you tell him, but your voice is quivering. “We’ve survived worse.”

Jake kisses you--closes that little gap between your mouths. It’s not about sex and it’s not about feeling anything other than close to each other. It’s you, it’s him, it’s your lips, his lips, your sleeping families, a tornado, and a scratchy blanket. The kiss is soft and quiet, one that just lingers and keeps on lingering. You don’t let go of his cheeks and he doesn’t loosen his grip on you. 

“You’re my best friend,” Jake tells you. 

“I better be,” you whisper back. “‘Cause you’re mine, too.” 

Later that evening, when the storm clouds have thinned and the funnels have dissipated and the storm damage has been assessed, you lie in Jake’s bed. You’re both naked, chests flushed and heaving, and your hair is matted to your neck with sweat. 

“Jesus,” Jake whispers, his vision still spotted with technicolor from the orgasm he just had when he was still seated in your mouth. “We’re gettin’ good at that.” 

You smile, biting your lip. 

“Yeah,” you agree. “Real good.” 

It’s quiet for a few minutes. The house is empty--which doesn’t happen often. Fran picked up a night shift. Harper is at Curtis’. Callie is away at their meemaw and pappy’s house for the weekend. Brandy is with a friend. So it is just you and Jake. And boy, did you two take advantage of the empty house. 

“I like it when you use your tongue on me,” you tell him. You squeeze your thighs together at the very mention of it. “S’real good. Too good, even.” 

Jake’s chest swells with pride. He pulls you close to him, presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“Yeah?” He asks. “Good. I like doin’ it.” 

Your belly is warm at the thought. 

You’re just about to say something else, just about to tell him about your day at the ice cream shop and to ask him about his day off from the farm, when the phone rings down the hall. 

“I got it,” Jake says, heaving himself up. 

He walks out of his room naked, leaves you in his bed. 

He’s humming the whole way to the phone, not bothering to turn any lights on. He’s in a good mood--how could he not be after the last few hours he’s had? A day off and an empty house with you. He doesn’t think it gets much better than that. 

“Howdy!” Jake says gleefully, pushing the home phone against his cheek. “You’ve got Jake.” 

“Jake,” Emmaline says. She sounds like she’s been crying--her voice nasally and thick with upset. “It’s Emma.” 

At the very sound of her voice, his tongue grows thick with anger. If anyone can dissipate a mood, it’s Emmaline Odette. He’s thinking about those nasty things they said to each other, how badly he wanted to shake her silly. 

“What?” He asks. 

She sighs, sniffling. 

“I’m late,” she says. She’s speaking quietly so her mama won’t hear from the kitchen. “Jake, I’m late.”

“For what?” Jake asks. “What’s this gotta do with me?” 

She pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Jake, my period is late. A month late.”  

✯ 𝐚/𝐧: the plot thickens.......

✯ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

✯ 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

✯ 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

✯ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬:

@violetta-ximena

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@callsign-cacti

@chicomonks

@royalpurplehuskies

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✯ 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝/𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬, 𝐃𝐌 𝐦𝐞!

[boybandbaby]

I'm Not The Only One Part 2

Summary: The aftermath of your enemy Steve telling you that your boyfriend cheated on you.

Word Count: 2387

Note: Not revised. Part 1 here

As you walked up to Matt’s door, you were afraid of what might happen. You desperately wanted to speak to Robin about what happened but then Steve dropped a bomb on you. Instead of worrying about the Friday incident, you were not concerned your boyfriend was cheating on you. You really hoped that Steve was just being his usual asshole self, but the way he said it and the look in his eyes told you he was being sincere. So here you were, at Matt’s doorstep, knocking pathetically.

After a few moments that felt decades long, the door swung open to reveal your boyfriend. His smile grew when he saw you and you nearly melted at the sight. “Hi baby,” he reached out for you.

“Baby?” You shook yourself out of your trance. “I’ve been calling you all weekend. Where have you been?”

“I just thought maybe you needed some time to cool off from Friday.” He shrugged. “You were really mad at me.”

“I think I had the right to be mad.” You scoffed.

“I mean come on Y/n, we’ve been dating for a month and you still haven’t let me kiss you.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame.

“Is that why you were kissing another girl after I left your house?” You question. “And don’t lie to me.”

“Look, Annalise called me to hang out and yeah we kissed but we’re not getting back together or anything. We can just forget it ever happened.” Matt reached a hand out to you.

“Are you insane? It may seem like no big deal to you but it is to me. That’s cheating.” You slap his hand away. “You’re unbelievable really.” You turn, heading back down the path. “Oh, and Grease is overdue, idiot.” You slam your car door as you finish getting in.

The first thing you can think of is to go see Eddie. You know his weird antics and personality can cheer you up in a heartbeat. The drive to his trailer is filled with the noise of sad ballads and your sleeved hand constantly wiping your eyes. Why were you crying? Matt was definitely not worth it and you knew that but you couldn’t help feeling worthless and unwanted.

As you park outside Eddie’s trailer, you look into the mirror and sigh. Your eyes were red, your hair was a mess, and your skin was sticky with old and new tears. You see Uncle Wayne on the porch, “Eddie, your little friend is here!”

You chuckle at his words and grab your bag before stepping out. Eddie rushes down the three steps and opens his long arms to engulf you. “Hey, come ‘ere.” He says quietly. You immediately enter his embrace and wrap your arms around his waist. “He’s an idiot.”

“Yeah, I know.” You sighed and lean your cheek against his chest. 

“You staying for dinner kiddo?” Wayne asks and you nod. “I’ll be heading to the store for food them. Be back in a bit.” Wayne gives Eddie a look.

“Let’s get you inside.” Eddie smiles and pulls you inside. “I can show you the new guitar strap that Dustin got me.”

-

Steve had called Eddie as soon as you left the store. He had filled him in on the entire situation.

“Okay so we’re going to go kick his ass right?” Eddie had told Steve through the phone.

“Eddie, you’re her friend. You have to do it.”

“Okay but you’re…meatier. I’m skinny. You’ve seen me shirtless. I need backup.” Eddie states. “Plus, someone has to comfort Y/n and I know it is impossible for you to be nice to her.”

“Hey, I can be nice.” Steve whines. “I was nice today.”

“Only because you had too.” Eddie snorts. “Look, you go kick his ass and I’ll go comfort Y/n.”

“I’m not kicking his ass alone Eddie.” Steve rolls his eyes. 

“How about neither of you kick his ass and both of you just go check on Y/n.” Robin adds, holding a box of new tapes. “Y/n is plenty capable of kicking Matt’s ass by herself.” 

“That’s true.” Steve laughs. “Well, I don’t think she’ll want to see me so… Eddie just take care of her okay? Let me know if she needs anything.” He ends the call after a few more moments, saying goodbye to Eddie.

“Oh, you’ve got it bad.” Robin laughs. “So so bad.”

“Robin.” Steve scolds. “I’m just being nice because she’s going through a tough time.”

“This could be what you need to start dating her. Swoop in to be her knight in shining armor or whatever.” Robin’s eyes light up. 

“Alright, that’s enough out of you.” Steve shakes his head, “I’m going on break.”

-

“So what did you tell Steve when he told you?” Eddie asks, sitting on the floor, rummaging through an old storage bin. You look down at him as you lay on your stomach across his bed, flipping through a magazine. 

“I mean, not much really. I basically interrogated him on what he saw and tried to verify if it was the truth.” You shrugged. “I seriously thought he was playing a joke on me.”

“I know he’s mean to you but not that mean. I think he likes you honestly.” Eddie bites his lip. “Imagine you and Harrington.” He ponders, “actually I think I almost threw up.”

“Shut up.” You toss a pillow in his direction. “He doesn’t like me. He can barely be in my presence. He said I was the Wicked Witch of the West, ya know?”

“If you’re the bad witch then I must be Glinda the good witch, huh?” Eddie raises a brow.

“Absolutely not. You have the hair to be Dorothy though.” You laugh. 

“I would look good in red sparkly heels and we both know it.” Eddie flips his hair off his shoulder. “But seriously, Harrington’s got the hots for you. He was all like,” Eddie switches his voice to mimic Steve’s. “‘Take care of my beautiful, wonderful future wife Y/n’ and ‘let’s kick Matt’s ass to avenge Y/n’s sweet soul’ and the best one ‘let me know if Y/n needs anything. And I mean anything Eddie.’” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows.

“He did not say any of that, you weirdo.” You toss another pillow at him. 

“You’re going to be pillowless in the next five minutes.” Eddie stands up to hit you in the head with the pillows, then stands a seat on the bed in the most obnoxious way making the entire bed bounce. “Remember when I first introduced you to the group? You thought Steve was cute. You even asked if he was single.”

“Which he technically wasn’t with all the dates he was going on.” You roll over onto your back. “I don’t know Eddie. Steve is cute but the past two years of bickering kinda just made me not really find him attractive.”

“Yeah yeah, I bet you’ll be dating or fucking by the end of the year.” Eddie lays beside you. “There’s so much sexual tension between you guys.”

“I hate you sometimes.” You laugh. “Let’s go see if Wayne needs our help.” You sit up and climb over him.

-

You had decided it would be a good time to thank Steve for looking out for you. It was Friday, only four days since you found out about Matt from Steve and confronted Matt yourself. As you walked up to Steve’s door, you remembered the last time you were here and how Steve had yelled at you. Maybe this was a bad idea. As you reached the porch of his house, you thought better and decided to just give him a call instead of your original plan. You turn back and start racing back to your car when you hear the door open.

“Y/n?” You hear. Your body freezes and you really wish you could just disappear.

Without turning around you reply with a quiet “Hey Steve.”

“You okay?” Steve asks, stepping out onto the porch after grabbing a jacket hanging near his door. “Did you just get off of work?”

“Um yeah, I just wanted to stop by to thank you.” You slowly turn around, scolding yourself mentally for not changing out of your uniform before coming to his place.

“Are those flowers? For me?” He points to the small bouquet in your hand. “You got me flowers?”

“Um… yeah. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to bring over. Robin said you were laying off the sweets so I didn’t bring any desserts over. I’m sorry this is stupid. I just wanted to say thank you for being so kind on Monday and throughout the week. I know you asked Eddie and Robin to keep you updated on me. I’m fine now. Really. So thank you.” You rush out, turning to leave. “Oh wait, here.” You turn back around and shove the flowers into his chest. “Bye. Thank you. I’m sorry. Bye.” You hug your body and run back to your car. He’s quicker than you, shutting the door just as you open it.

“Do you want to come in?” He searches for your eyes. “You look cold. I can make hot chocolate or something?” He offers, unsure. “Only if you want.”

“You sure?” You squint your eyes and meet his.

“Yeah, I wasn’t busy or anything. Just making some food.” He smiles softly. “There’s enough for two.” 

It’s his smile that has you immediately locking your car door and following him into his house. He waits for you to step inside his house before going in himself, like a gentleman. He shivers as he takes off his jacket. 

“I’m supposed to put the flowers in water right?” He sets the bouquet on the counter. You had momentarily forgotten about the flowers. Your cheeks flush with heat and somehow he senses your embarrassment. “You know, no one has ever gotten me flowers before? I don’t even think I have a vase.” He mumbles as he searches the cabinets. “You okay? You’re quiet. You know you can have a seat.” He looks up to see you still standing near the entryway to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be awkward.” You laugh.

“You’re not.” He assures. “We haven’t had a good relationship so it makes sense why this is weird.” He smiles again and holds a red tinted vase he found under the sink. “I found one.”

“Let me help you.” You offer, holding the vase as he runs the water. “So you’ve been on hundreds of dates and not one girl has given you flowers?”

“Surprisingly no. I guess it’s just the whole gender roles and norms. I hope I didn’t embarrass you, I was just surprised.” He turns the faucet off.

“Well, I’m glad I got them then. Robin wasn’t much help. She wanted me to get you a funny greeting card. There’s not really a card that says, ‘I know we hate each other but thanks for saving me from a potential shitty relationship.’” 

“I guess that’s true.” He shrugs. “You know I don’t hate you right? Slightly dislike but not hate.” He nudges your arm as he takes the vase and places it on the counter.  

“It sounded like you hated me when you told me to get out of Hawkins.” You start to unwrap the flowers. “I was never trying to replace you Steve. I just wanted to be part of the group. I hope you know that.”

“I still regret saying that to you. You looked so sad but instead of apologizing I just… I don’t know. I guess I thought it was better to be mean to you then accept the fact that the others liked you. I don’t know how much you know about me but I’m usually home alone and other than my friends, I don’t have anybody.” He says honestly, voice laced with sadness.

“You have me?” You offer. “Like moving forward? We could be friends. We can hang out without the mean comments and stealing my snacks.” 

“Even after everything I’ve done? You’d still want to be friends?” He looks down to his slippers. “I was a jerk.”

“Yeah you were. Especially by calling me a witch.” You laugh. He looks up at you and thinks it’s music to his ears. “I’m sorry for saying you have no heart and that you were a coward. Both of those aren’t true.”

“So I still have no brain?” He fakes being hurt. 

“I mean you can be pretty stupid.” You smile, “like that one time at the fair when you got the hot pickle and immediately spit it out because it was spicy.”

“I thought it was like, going to be hot in temperature.” He defends. 

“Who eats a warm pickle? Pickles are meant to be eaten cold.” You argue. 

“Yeah yeah, that was pretty stupid.” He rubs the back of his neck. “You know, I regret not taking up your offer to ride the ferris wheel that day.”

“I saw that you wanted to go but no one would go with you. You kept looking up at the wheel and the lights of the rides made your eyes look so pretty. I just had to ask you.” You scoot closer to him, your sides touching as you busied yourself with separating the flowers. “But then you rejected me!” You nudged him this time.

“I’m sorry!” He covers his face. “I’m really sorry. Not just about that but everything else.” He says more quietly. 

“I’ve already forgiven you, Steve.” You start rearranging the flowers into the vase. “We’re good now. Promise.”

“Good.” He smiles down at you. “You hungry?” 

“Starving.” You step back to look at your work. “They look so pretty.”

“Yeah, they do.” Steve agrees, though his eyes are on you not the flowers. You turn to look at him. 

“You’re pretty too, Steve.” You bite your lip and take a seat at the kitchen island to distract yourself from the butterflies erupting inside your stomach. What was happening? You thought. How’d you go from hating each other to flirting?

Steve knew once he told Robin about his night, he wouldn’t be hearing the end of it. Enemies to lovers? Maybe, he was a cliche. He really didn’t mind that idea.

Taglist: @yaskna

[fandom-imagines-stories]

I Remember Us

Damon Salvatore x Reader

Words: 3136

Part One

Summary: Iris kills the reader while she still has Damon’s blood in her system, thus triggering the transition process and erasing all of his compulsion. Bloodthirsty and betrayed, the reader is drawn into yet another trap. 

Notes: Okay, this is so chaotic, but I hope you guys like it. It jumps around, but I thought it fit the intensity. Let me know what you think!

-

You were surprised to wake up alone. Your mom had climbed into your bed late last night and wrapped her arms around you, telling you that things were finally going to be different. Life was going to be better. You believed her. You dreamed about a real house and a real picket fence. The two of you would have a life like all your friends from school had. 

But she wasn’t there. She wasn’t in her room or hungover on the couch like she usually was. 

“Mom?” You called into the empty trailer. You continued searching until you found a note on the kitchen counter. 

Things will be better, sweetie. You don’t need me anymore. Love, Mom. 

“Come on, please. Don’t do this!” You cried, searching the trailer again and again, each time hoping you’d see her car in the driveway. “Mom!”  

It was no use. She was gone.

-

You woke up to a burning feel in your throat and something crawling on your chest. When you opened your eyes, a twitching nose greeted you, along with a pair of little black eyes. You quickly lifted the rabbit off of you and watched it scurry off into the forest. The sun was too hot and too bright and your head was pounding like crazy. 

As you stood up, you had to lean against a tree for support. For a moment, all you could see were the leaves overhead, but then it all came flooding into your head at a painful rate. It started with the end; feeling the life draining out of you as Irene, or whoever she was, dug her fangs deeper into your neck. But then you saw him. 

Damon. You remembered Damon. You remembered him compelling you to forget. You remembered him abandoning you. 

The wave of emotion that hit you was worse than anything you’d ever felt. Every fear you’d ever had was intensified. You let out a pained scream into the forest. Tears poured down your face before you had the chance to stop them. Everything was amplified. Every single cell in your body screamed like you were being torn apart. 

Damon left you and tried to erase it from your memory. He compelled you to forget everything you’d had together. It felt like there was a hole in your chest, growing bigger and bigger as it tried to consume you. You must have stayed like that for an hour before it finally hit you. If you were remembering, that meant the compulsion was broken. 

You were turning. 

-

Stefan was almost afraid to enter the kitchen. Half of the counter was in the living room and the other half was in the backyard. The chairs were firewood at this point. It was Elena who decided to brave the wreckage.

“Damon?” 

“Elena, maybe we should just let him-”

“If we don’t do something, he’ll burn the house down, Stefan.” She peered inside, looking for that familiar head of black hair. “Damon, I know you’re hurting, but I want to-”

She was pinned to the wall before she could even take a step forward. 

“Damon!” Stefan yelled. 

“I’d say Elena’s pretty fragile, wouldn’t you, brother? Maybe we should erase her memory too.” He seethed, staring menacingly into Elena’s eyes. Behind his anger, she could see the unbearable pain. 

“I’m sorry.” Was all she could say before he released his grip. She, however, didn’t back away. Instead, she pulled him into her arms like she had when he found out about Katherine. He didn’t fight her or make a snarky remark. He just stood there, letting her hold him. 

“Did you make sure she got out of town?” Stefan asked once Elena had let go. Damon nodded grimly. 

“I followed her out past the sign. She should be halfway to D.C. by now.” He ran his fingers through his hair and picked at the rubble around him. 

“You really love her.” Elena mused. She’d never really seen it until now. While she had seen that Damon wasn’t a heartless monster, she had always kind of figured that Y/N was just a replacement for him. But seeing him now, seeing the hurt in his face from his loss, she understood. 

“Not that she’ll remember.” Damon said blankly. He tossed a piece of the broken counter across the table. 

Stefan felt the guilt gnawing at him. Of course, he knew that Y/N’s safety mattered more than anything else, but seeing Damon like this made it harder to feel righteous. He just kept telling himself that she was safe now. 

An obnoxiously peppy sounding knock came from the front door, making Damon chuck another piece of chair out into the living room. 

“Go away!” He shouted. 

“It’s probably Caroline.” Elena grimaced. “We were supposed to have a girls weekend.” She quickly went to the door, as any company would likely make Damon homicidal. But when she opened it, the person before was not one she recognized. A woman with dark hair and deep, green eyes smiled at her menacingly. 

“Are you one of his playthings too?” She had a hand around Elena’s throat before she had the chance to scream. Iris held the girl in front of her, keeping an arm around her neck, ready to snap it. “Oh boys! Come out, come out wherever you are.” 

Stefan was first. He ran out of the kitchen, eyes widening with horror. He stepped towards them. 

“Ah ah ah.” Iris chided, tightening her grip on Elena’s neck. 

“Let her go, Iris.” He growled. 

“It’s good to see you too, Little Salvatore.” She shifted, making Elena wince. “Where’s Damon?” 

“Guess,” Damon said, jamming a broken off chair leg against her back. 

Her smile tightened and she slowly lifted her arms, letting Elena run to Stefan. Damon forced her forward, keeping the sharpened wood against her spine. She tried to face him, but he pushed the stake into her skin just enough to break through. 

“Don’t turn around.”

“But darling, I want to see you.” She pouted. “I’ve missed you.”

Damon’s jaw clenched. “I’m really not in the mood for this, so give me a good reason why I shouldn’t put this through your heart.” He twisted the stake, but she acted as if she didn’t feel it. 

“That tickles.” She reached a hand behind her, latching it around Damon’s wrist. Iris flipped him over her, throwing him on the ground and putting a heel at his throat. Stefan moved to help him, but she put up a hand. “If you want to see your perky little blonde friend again, I suggest you let me leave.”

“Caroline.” Elena gasped. 

“Oh, no Caroline!” Iris mocked. She leaned over Damon with a smirk. “There’s more surprises where that came from, lover.” She blew him a kiss and vanished. 

Damon’s undead heart stopped. Elena started to panic and Stefan helped him to his feet. 

“We have to find Caroline. Who knows what she’ll do to her. Why would she take her?” Elena stammered. 

“To get at us.” Stefan sighed. “Don’t worry, we’ll get her back.”

Damon stared off, Iris’ sinister tone echoing in his head. Elena approached him slowly, seeing the cold focus in his eyes. 

“Are you okay?” 

“What did she mean? ‘More surprises’?” His gaze snapped to her. Elena’s brows drew together. 

“You don’t think-”

Damon nodded grimly, feeling the dread wash over him. “Y/N.”

-

You sat in the corner of the trailer, careful to stay out of the light. Every once in a while, you’d stick your hand out, feel the searing pain, and hold it there for a second. The burn was nothing compared to the burning in your head. More more more. You were hungry. The body on the other side of the room taunted you with its stillness. You couldn’t get any more from him, though. You could still feel his pulse slowly fade as every ounce of his blood pooled into your mouth. If you hadn’t been so focused on other issues, you would have been riddled with guilt. You’d killed somebody. 

Instead, your brain played only one thing on repeat. Damon’s eyes staring into yours, his lips telling you to forget everything. He left you behind and didn’t even have the decency to let you have your anger. He took that from you. He took away your choice and your fury, but more than that, he took away every happy memory you had of him. He took away the memory that someone had loved you. 

And now you were a vampire. So every ounce of fury and sadness and betrayal was cranked up even more. The ache was too much to bear. 

Along with your emotions, all of your senses were heightened. The stench of the body hung in the hair and burned your nostrils. The glare of the sun in the windows hurt your eyes. A twig snapping outside thundered in your ears. You scrambled to your feet. 

“There’s my favorite little newborn.” 

That voice. The woman from the school stepped inside the trailer. You had to move out of the way so you wouldn’t be burned. Another memory hit you. Iris. 

“S-stay away from me.” 

With her hands on her hips, she looked you over. “God, you’re even more pathetic than when you were human,” she scoffed.

“I’ve heard about you.” 

This piqued her interest. “So Damon’s mentioned me?” Her tone was excited, seductive. It made your stomach turn. Hearing his name almost made you wince. 

Finding a little of your fire, you scoffed. “Yeah. He said you’re a psychotic bitch.” 

She sped towards you and, holding your arms behind your back, held you just within the reach of the scorching sun. You cried out, feeling the searing pain. You fought as best you could, but her grip was iron. 

“Meet me at the Mystic Grill when the sun sets,” she growled. “Your friend Caroline depends on it.” 

And with that, she was gone, allowing your skin to recover from the bubbling welts on your flesh. 

-

The sun went down and Damon’s fury raged. He wanted to turn the town upside down, tear Iris apart, but Stefan pointed out that the fastest way to find Iris and find out what she had planned was to find Caroline. Besides, you were supposed to be half way across the state by now, right?

Everything turned out fruitless. Damon felt like a dog chasing his tail when he should have been sinking his teeth into Iris’ throat. Elena was getting more panicked by the second. 

“Why would she take Caroline? She doesn’t have anything to do with any of this.” 

“I think it’s pretty obvious that we’re heading into a trap,” Damon said. “Blondie is bait.” Stefan shot him a look, but he didn’t care. 

Elena’s phone rang and her eyes went wide looking at the screen. She answered it with worry in her voice. “Caroline? Where are you? What happened?”

She paled at the voice on the other end. Stefan’s face darkened with concern. Elena hung up and held her phone in a shaking hand. 

“They’re at the Mystic Grill.” Her eyes locked on Damon. “She wants you to go alone.” 

Damon sucked in a breath, eyes blazing. Without any regard for who might see him, he tore off a fence post and broke it in half, providing him with two roughly made stakes. Elena reached out for him. 

“Damon, don’t-”

He shrugged her off. His expression was like stone- firm and harsh. 

“I won’t be gone long.” 

-

The grill was empty- everyone was probably compelled to leave. All the better. Damon wasn’t in the mood to worry about civilian casualties. His grip tightened on his weapons. Iris, however, was nowhere in sight. 

“Hello? Being held captive here.” Caroline held up her chained wrists, wincing at the sting of the vervain. She seemed unharmed. If anything, she just looked annoyed. 

“Leave it to you to become the damsel in distress,” he muttered. 

“Look, I’ve been pumped full of vervain all day, listening to your ex ramble about ‘the good old days’ so I would prefer if you kept the snark to a minimum,” she snapped back. 

Damon glowered. “Hold still.” He used the thinner end of his make-shift stake to pry open the chain and free her wrists. 

“Damon Salvatore, playing the part of the hero. This has to be a first.” Iris' voice echoed through the room and his head whirled around to try and find the source. 

“Go.” He ordered Caroline. 

She put her hands on her hips. “And leave you to take on the bitch by yourself?”

The look in his eyes put a stop to her argument. She sighed. 

“Just… don’t die, alright?”

“Don’t worry.” He held up his fence posts with an irritated smirk. “Now go.” 

Her expression turned serious, but she did what he said. The door latched with a click. Damon straightened his shoulders, eyes still scanning the deserted restaurant. 

“I’ve been waiting for so long, darling.” Her voice finally gave away her location and Damon threw one of the posts. It lodged itself into the dartboard. Iris stepped out from behind a post and looked at his attempt. She shrugged. “Nice shot.” 

“The next one won’t miss.” 

She giggled. “Oh, Damon. You don’t think I didn’t come prepared did you?” She stalked around him like a cat. “You never think, though, do you, darling? It’s all stake first, ask questions later.”

“And you never shut up.” He stormed towards her, but the sound of another voice stopped him in his tracks. 

“Damon?” 

Panic shot through him like an arrow. He turned and there, standing in the doorway, was you. There were so many questions rushing into his terrified mind, that it was nearly impossible to sort through them. But there was one that came to his lips- one that frightened him the most. 

“How do you know who I am?” 

Your fists clenched at your sides. His eyes darted between you and Iris. 

Iris giggled. “This is my favorite part. Watching him figure it out.” 

The fury in his expression was replaced by anguish. He stepped towards you, but you stepped away. Part of you wanted to run into the safety of his arms, but the memory of his abandonment would replace the urge. He wasn’t safe anymore. He did this to you. 

“What did she do to you?” His voice was weak, pained. 

“What did she do? What did you do?” You snapped. “You selfish, arrogant, lying…” Your voice trailed off, lost underneath Iris’ boasts. 

“Imagine my surprise, Damon,” she said, “when she woke up. At first, I was disappointed. I wanted the satisfaction of watching you find her bloodied body on the steps of the boarding house. Or maybe across the hood of your car. But this…” She laughed with cruel amusement, “is so much more fun.” 

You finally gathered yourself and walked towards him. “Death is one hell of a cure for compulsion.”

“Y/N, I-” 

“I remember everything, Damon,” You cried. “I remember us- the best thing that ever happened to me and you took it away!” 

“I had to,” He said. He remained completely still, his body still processing through the shock. “Being with me isn’t safe. I had to-”

“And look how well that went!” Your voice raised to a scream. You were now directly in front of him. The mess of feeling aching in your chest fueled your movements as your clenched fists found his jaw. “You left me and now I’m a monster. I’m a killer.” You hit him again. “I’m terrified.” Again. “And I’m alone.” 

You hit and pushed and clawed at him, using your anger to block out your pain. He took your violence without fighting. He knew he deserved it. 

Through all of this, Iris circled the two of you with a wide grin on her face. 

“Isn’t this just delicious? You get to see the heart you’ve broken before I plunge a stake in it.” Her efforts for attention went unnoticed. Damon wouldn’t take his eyes off you and you hardly even knew she was there. So she took a pool stick and broke it over his head. 

You gasped, coming out of your grief and anger fueled trance. Damon stumbled back, but before he could recover, Iris hit him again, knocking him back into the bar. A piece of a stool went through his leg. Your cries were silenced. 

“There,” Iris said. “That’s better.” She stood over him. A sharp piece of the broken pool stick twirled in her hand. For a moment, you forgot your fury. 

“Stay away from him.” 

“Not now, dear, the adults are talking.” She didn’t move. 

You grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her across the restaurant, surprised by your own strength. 

“Y/N,” Damon groaned, pulling the piece of wood out of his leg. “Don’t.” 

“Ooooo, the newborn wants to fight?” Iris teased you in a sickening sing-song voice. She picked up the pool stick. “Pay attention, Damon. I’d hate for you to miss this.”

She sped towards you and the two of you were lost in a blur of battle. Damon worked quickly, getting the rest of the chair out of his leg. By the time he rushed over to the two of you, you’d both gone still, Iris looming over you. 

“Y/N!” He cried. The sharpest pain he’d ever felt shot through his chest. It was worse than a stake or a wooden bullet, but it felt lethal nonetheless. He waited for Iris’ cruel laughter, but it didn’t come. Instead, she slumped over, the end of the pool stick protruding from her chest. 

You laid on the ground for a moment to try and process what just happened. You heard Damon sigh with relief. He held out a hand to help you up. You ignored it. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. His voice held an odd mix of relief and concern and pain. 

“I’m a vampire, Damon.” You snapped back. He grimaced. “You abandoned me and she turned me into… this.” 

“I didn’t-” He took a deep breath. “I was trying to protect you.” 

“Well you didn’t.” You leaned against one of the tables that was still intact. Both of you were quiet for a long time. You wrapped your arms around yourself and felt the tears overtake you. “I can’t do this on my own.” 

He took your face in his hands. You let him. His clear blue eyes- the same that compelled you to forget him- now looked at you with nothing but devotion. 

“You won’t have to,” he said. “I pushed you away and almost lost you. I won’t make that mistake again. I’m not going anywhere.” 

You jumped up into his arms and knew you were safe. You knew you’d never have to worry about being alone again.

-

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