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thisapplepielife · 2 days

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Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember and @steddiesongfics.

No Loose Ends

Week #3 Prompt: Sneaking Around | Word Count: 6500 | Rating: E | POV: Steve | CW: Post S4, Sexual Content, Underage Recreational Alcohol and Weed Use | Tags: Eddie Munson Lives, Florida!!!, Hiding Out, Healing, Steve & The Boys of Corroded Coffin Taking Care of Eddie, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson

Song inspiration to fill the @steddiesongfics prompt is FLORIDA!!! by Taylor Swift feat. Florence & The Machine:

Little did you know, Your home's really only the town you'll get arrested, So you pack your life away, Just to wait out the shitstorm back in Texas Indiana

Steve's almost eight hours into the twelve hour drive, when he starts looking for another gas station. The smaller the better. One with a cashier who would rather be anywhere else other than at work behind the counter, and who in turn, won't be paying any attention to anything going on around them.

Not that he's wanted, or being looked for, because he's not. He's just being extra careful. Trying to garner no additional eyes on his car, or himself, if possible. No speeding, no rolling through stop signs. He's never driven this carefully in his entire life, and he feels tense from it.

It gives him a glimpse of what it might be like, sometime in the future, if he's in charge of hauling around six of his own little nuggets.

But that's not today. Today he's just in charge of one, well two, other people.

And himself. But he's used to being in charge of himself, since he has been, since basically forever.

If everything goes smoothly tonight, nobody's even gonna realize he's been out of town. Only Robin knows, and she's running interference with everybody else. Giving excuses for why they haven't seen him all day. Just buying him the time to get down, and back, without being missed.

The next filling station is a little raggedy, but exactly what he wants. Probably no cameras. Perfect.

He parks alongside the pump, and pulls up on the handle, starting to fill his tank. He looks in the backseat, and the bundled up figure moves under the blanket, shifting. It's dark under the poorly-lit canopy, three of the six fluorescent bulbs are out, and it makes it look just a little bit spooky. But even better, unless you were looking for him, you'd never see the slightly moving lump in the backseat.

And nobody's looking for him. Not anymore.

Thank fucking god.

Steve pays for the gas, and grabs drinks. Back in the car, he puts his own Coke in the cup holder, then lays the Mountain Dew in the backseat floorboard for when Eddie wakes up, and finally slides the Dr. Pepper into the passenger side cup holder.

He doesn't know Gareth Jones, not really, and it has taken everything he has to trust him. But Eddie couldn't be left alone, not yet, and Steve had asked who could they trust, and Gareth had been Eddie's answer.

Now he's asleep, head against the window, and Steve pulls back out onto the two-lane road, and keeps heading south.

They pull up in the driveway of the dark house, and Steve kills the engine.

"We're here," he says, and Eddie stirs in the backseat.

Eddie can barely walk. Once they've gotten him out of the car, he can only shuffle along, blanket over his shoulders. Together, they hold him up on both sides. The sand surrounding the beach house is not making it easier for him to move, Steve can tell. Steve has to try three keys before the door swings open, but they get him inside. Steve's not satisfied until Eddie's on the couch of his grandparent's vacation home in Destin, the city they swear is gonna become a tourist hot spot in the coming years.

So, the elder Harringtons scooped up a waterfront home that they only use once or twice a year, swearing it's an investment they'll be able to turn a profit on in the future. Steve doesn't care about that, but he is glad they have it right now, so they have a place Eddie can lay low.

It's a little musty from being shut-up, but it'll do.

Especially since there's no chance anybody in his family will turn up, since they're all in Europe right now without him. That left it just sitting empty, the perfect place to stash Eddie long enough to wait out the shitstorm back in Indiana.

Nobody knows he survived. Not the public, and barely any of their friends. Not even Wayne. Not yet. It's easier to keep a secret when you don't know the truth, as guilty as that makes Steve feel.

But right now, he can't dwell on that. Today, Steve's gonna try to get him holed up in here, and then figure out a more permanent solution once Eddie's back on his feet.

He can't dwell on the rest of them, or his guilt will eat him alive. Knowing Wayne's mourning his nephew. Knowing that Dustin is going through hell. Steve hopes they'll both forgive him, when the truth comes out. Eddie swears Wayne will. Says he'll understand. Says he'll only be relieved that Eddie's safe, and well.

Steve hopes that's true.

He knows he'll be in for an ass-chewing from Dustin, but that's nothing new. He can handle that.

Steve gets Eddie situated. A blanket. Some pillows. A drink. All while Gareth looks around the house, snooping, and it sets Steve on edge. He's a kid. Is he really gonna trust a kid to keep Eddie safe? Alive? He supposes he is. It's not like he has any other choice.

Gareth's older than Steve was when he got involved in the Upside Down. But still. Kid.

Steve can't stay long. He takes a nap, and then gets back on the road before he's missed. Back in his bed in Hawkins before anyone has started asking any real questions that Robin can't deflect.

A week later, when Steve steps out of his front door, Pop Tart in his mouth, he nearly chokes when he sees two guys leaning against his car. Jeff and…the other one. Steve's drawing a blank. They're Eddie's friends, but as far as Steve knew, they'd evacuated with the rest of the town.

Out of the way, not a concern. But, here they are.

People are starting to come back, Steve's noticed, now that the town is rebuilding after the earthquake damage. If they have houses to return to, lots of them are doing just that.

He should have expected this.

Well, not this. Because they shouldn't know Eddie's alive or that Steve might be a person to talk to about anything.

"Uh, hey?" Steve says as he pulls the dry pastry out of his mouth, trying to chew it up, and buy himself some time.

"Where's Gareth?" the one that isn't Jeff asks.

"Um, Gareth who?" Steve asks.

Jeff laughs, showing a mouth full of braces.

"Gareth Jones. He's not with his mom, and she thinks he's with you."

Steve tenses. That little shit. Gareth told his mom the truth? What the fuck? For real. That wasn't the plan. At all.

What a dumbass kid. He can't believe he has to trust him with Eddie's safety. Clearly, he's doing a bang-up job.

Steve looks around, "Don't see him, do you?" Steve asks, sliding back into his King Steve persona easier than he'd imagine he'd be able to after a few years.

"Harrington," Jeff says.

"He's not with me," Steve says, which is true. "I don't even know him." Also true.

"If you have Eddie. If he's out there somewhere, you're gonna take us to him," the other one says. Goldie? Steve thinks his name is Goldie. Goldwin, maybe? Gareth was talking, and he's sure he mentioned him, but Gareth talked a lot. Steve zoned out.

"Or we're going to the cops."

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn't actually think they'll do that, but fuck, what does he know? He cannot risk that. He'd rather tell them what he knows, than have any officials poking holes in their story.

He makes a decision, one he hopes he won't regret.

"Okay, Goldie, get in," Steve says, resigned to this, but Jeff laughs loudly, mouth open as the guy who is probably not Goldie by his reaction, jabs Jeff in the ribs with his elbow.

"Goodie," Jeff corrects, "but that was closer than most get."

In the car, Steve squeezes the steering wheel.

"Where is he?" Jeff asks.

"Florida," Steve answers.

"Florida?" Goodie demands, and Steve just nods.

"He's healing. Gareth's with him. You can't tell anyone," Steve stresses. "If the government finds out. They'll, well. Dispose of him, I reckon. No loose ends."

And Steve starts from the beginning.

They worked out a schedule. Every week they'll switch. And somehow Steve is stuck making the long fucking haul in the dead of night, with one of them in his passenger seat. It's awkward. He doesn't know them, and they definitely don't like him.

This week it's Jeff Williams. Honestly, he's nice enough, but Steve runs out of things to say before they hit the Indiana state line.

The long haul back has Gareth jabbering nonstop about what they did this week. All Steve really wants to hear is updates on Eddie. Is he getting better? Are his wounds healing? Still no infection? Did you help him change the bandages he can't reach? Can he climb the stairs yet?

But he's having trouble getting those answers. He does learn all about the new Accept album, though. Whoever the fuck that is.

The third week is even worse, because hauling around Goodie Goodwin is like having an angry bear locked in the car with him. A brown bear, not a black one. He's fucking pissed, and snarky, and only belligerently agreeing to help for Eddie's sake. Not for Steve's. He's made that abundantly clear.

He hates Steve, in case Steve needs it spelled out for him.

Steve does not.

It's definitely clear.

Super duper clear.

Crystal clear.

And that's fine. Eddie just needs a babysitter, and an angry bear will do, so long as Eddie trusts said bear, and he seems to, for whatever reason.

When they fucking finally pull up, after a twelve hour drive that felt more like twenty-four, Eddie's sitting on the covered porch, the color finally seeping back in his face. Goodie sits down in the glider right next to Eddie, and steals Eddie's lit cigarette right from his mouth. Eddie leans against his shoulder, face pressed into his very weather inappropriate leather jacket, and smiles.

Oh, so now he's a gentle giant.

Fucking dickhead.

Hauling Jeff back to Hawkins is a breath of fresh air after twelve hours of having Chernabog in the passenger seat. And he actually gives helpful information. Eddie's doing great. He's made some real progress, and he probably doesn't need a babysitter much longer. He's getting out of the woods.

Steve wishes he knew that before he had to spend time in the car with Goodie, but it's still good news, even if Steve had to suffer.

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay alone this week?" Steve asks, and he doesn't know what he'll do if the answer is no. Leave Goodie for a second week of duty? Stay himself?

"I'm fine, Harrington," Eddie promises, and Steve nods.

"Okay, then. I'll be back next weekend," Steve assures.

Steve worries about Eddie being alone the whole next week, and it's a long drive by himself, but not as long as it was with Goodie refusing to make even the smallest of small talk.

Goodie didn't say a word for the eight hundred miles back to Hawkins.

Honestly, it was actually an improvement from the ride down.

When Steve pulls up the house, Eddie's on the porch again, and Steve wonders if this is where he spends most of his time. There don't seem to be any neighbors here right now close enough to see him, and even if there were, they wouldn't know the Harringtons well enough to be sure Eddie didn't belong.

"Harrington," Eddie says, foot pushing slowly, keeping himself in a soft sway on the porch glider.

Steve sits down next to him, and then Eddie keeps them moving, the breeze coming through the porch, and not feeling bad at all.

"Ocean air is healing, you know," Eddie says as if he's serious, and Steve smiles.

"Is the gulf considered an ocean?" Steve asks.

And Eddie just shrugs and grins back, shaking another pack of cigarettes out of the fresh carton Steve brought him. Steve feels like a pack mule, hauling food and smokes and beer, back and forth across several states.

"Closest thing I've ever seen to one, at least," Eddie says, and Steve has the fleeting thought that someday, Steve will change that.

He doesn't know why. They aren't really friends or anything. Just two people that were thrown together to fight back against evil. They don't exactly have a whole hell of a lot in common beyond that.

They get into the beer, and Eddie pulls out a joint. It's fun, and relaxing, honestly. Doing a whole lot of nothing. It feels like a mini vacation, and like Steve's settled for the first time in weeks, months. So, he stays an extra day, and then another, because they're having so much fun. Robin will cover for him. She will. But he's really gotta go in the morning.

"Your friend Goodie hates me," Steve says.

"All bark, no bite," Eddie laughs.

Steve doesn't know about that. He seemed pretty nippy to him.

The next week, he brings the decks of cards Eddie had asked for, and now they sit around the round table on the porch, and play hand after hand, going through a case of beer and cigarette after cigarette. It's fun, and unexpected, and Steve's pretty sure next week, he's gonna find a way to stay longer.

He's tipsy, they both are, as they stumble up the stairs towards their rooms. He's got his hands on Eddie, the excuse that he's helping him not fall, but he's pretty sure that's not the whole reason.

He doesn't examine it too much.

They're just having fun, and that's a nice change of pace from the shitshow that Hawkins has been over the past few years.

He wants to stay.

As his head hits the pillow, and he rolls over onto his belly, he tries to devise a plan to make that happen, even as he's drifting.

The kids aren't happy about it when he says he's going to be traveling with his parents for a while, and they'd really be pissed if they knew that he was actually sneaking back to Florida to hole up with a very much still alive Eddie Munson.

He's gonna have to pay for lying about this, to a lot of people that really love Eddie. Steve knows it. But, he'd do it again. Eddie's safe. He's healing up. Every week he's been more mobile, more agile, more…Eddie.

Sure, it's not as if Steve knew him well before all this. But they went to school together. He knows what Eddie Munson is all about, and it's definitely not being quietly introverted on a couch.

When he gets there, he lugs in his huge suitcase, and takes back over the empty room across the hall from the one Eddie's been staying in.

And then they spend their time laying on the beach, or getting drunk, or stoned, as Eddie's body slowly finishes stitching itself back together. He still aches, and so does Steve, but it's not too bad anymore. There are no more bandaids, ointments or creams. No more antibiotics. They hurt, sure, but they're getting by better now.

Eddie wants to venture into the water, and with no open wounds, Steve can't find a reason to say no. Eddie had had to watch from the porch that first week as Gareth ran across the sand, wading out into the water.

Now, it's his turn.

Steve by his side, making sure he's okay. Strong enough. They didn't go through all this just for Eddie to drown.

Steve's getting concerned that he can't quit touching Eddie, but Eddie doesn't seem interested in making him stop.

They're wet, and wrapped in towels, but it feels inevitable when Steve pushes Eddie towards the bathroom, and into the shower. Inevitable when he turns to leave, and Eddie snags his hand, pulling him back towards the tub. Inevitable as he washes his body, trying to not only ignore his own half-hard dick, but Eddie's too.

It's still inevitable as he slips on his clean underwear, and crawls into Eddie's bed instead of his own, and finally presses their lips together.

Eddie kisses back, and hands roam across bare skin. Eddie's fingers trailing his back, making Steve squeeze his eyes shut. He didn't realize how long it's been since someone touched him like that.

Neither of them take it further than that, but they do find themselves, lips kiss-swollen and laying together, breathing heavily in the quiet of the room, and Steve doesn't even know how they've gotten to this point.

One day Eddie was just some guy, then he was wanted on trumped up murder charges, and now, well, this.

"What's the plan? I can't stay here forever," Eddie says into the darkness, and Steve thinks maybe he could. They both could. They'd be safer that way. Hawkins can fuck off. It's their hometown, but not home anymore. Just a place that would arrest Eddie and throw away the key, given half the chance.

"We could," Steve says, and Eddie meets his eyes.

"You know you can't. And your grandparents will turn up eventually, and be less than thrilled to see me here."

"They won't be back until winter, and even that's iffy," Steve reassures, more himself than Eddie, he's pretty sure.

They could sneak around for months, until the snow birds fly south, and nobody would know.

That's all Steve thinks about as he falls asleep, Eddie's arm slung over his stomach.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Steve jerks, sitting bolt upright in bed. Eddie doesn't even stir beside him.

Gareth Jones is standing at the foot of the bed, and Jeff and Goodie are in the doorway. Steve's heart is hammering in his chest. There's no explaining this away as anything other than exactly what it is. Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Eddie," Steve says, nudging him with his elbow. Eddie still doesn't budge, but his foot is sticking out of the comforter, and Gareth runs his knuckle up Eddie's bare sole.

Eddie's awake then, jerking his whole leg backwards.

"Jesus H. Christ, kid!" Eddie screeches, pulling the sheet up to his neck as if he's trying to protect his precious modesty. It's fucking endearing.

Terrifying, but endearing.

Steve must be staring at Gareth, because the kid shrugs, "He was late to school. A lot. Wayne asked me to start getting him there before he was a fifth year senior from tardies alone. The bottom of the foot is foolproof."

And Steve's hammering heart slows, just a little. Nobody is screaming, there's no fight breaking out. Nobody's being called names. He's not sure how to take this. They've been caught in bed, but nobody is really reacting to that.

It's just a best friend explaining how to get Eddie awake. Robin would know how to do that for him, too.

"What are you doing here?" Steve finally asks.

"We thought we'd come give you a break," Jeff says from the doorway.

"Doesn't look like you want it though," Goodie adds, and it's the nicest thing he's ever said to Steve, Steve's pretty sure.

"Our parents think we're at a band camp," Gareth adds, "before school starts back up for me."

"Band camp," Eddie laughs, flopping back against the pillows, "Go wait downstairs."

And they listen.

Steve just lays there next to him, finally saying, "Well."

Eddie laughs, then turns to face Steve, "They knew about me. I mean, the theory of me. It's not like I was getting any action. From boys or girls. But they're cool. Freaks gather together."

Steve chuckles, but Eddie keeps talking, "I'm sorry they know about you without you okaying it first, though."

It's fine. Honestly. Like, if they aren't gonna kick his ass? Everything's fine. Sneaking around always ends this way. Steve knows it. You always get caught by someone. He just didn't predict it to be so soon, or here.

"How'd they even get in here?" Steve asks, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He's pretty sure he locked the door when they went to bed.

"That's probably my bad. I taught Goodie to pick locks."

"Another Munson family trick?" Steve asks, pulling his jeans on, sliding up the zipper.

"Yep," Eddie answers, "the school would sometimes forget to leave the room unlocked for us to have Hellfire. So, I taught him to open it, since I have a bit of a tendency to run late."

Steve laughs, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Regret it now, though," Eddie says dryly, and Steve holds open the bedroom door for him.

Gareth and Goodie are sitting around the kitchen table, already helping themselves to the beer they found in the fridge. Cards dealt. Waiting.

Jeff's cooking a massive skillet of eggs and there's toast piled high on a plate.

Beer and eggs. That's something. Breakfast of champions.

"You can fuck him, but Eddie is my card partner," Gareth says, pushing a waiting hand of cards towards Eddie.

Fair enough.

Steve snags a plate, and is more interested in eating than cards, anyway.

"We can't have set partners with five of us," Jeff says. "It's just gotta happen as the game unfolds."

Gareth starts to argue, and it's like they totally moved on from what they all saw upstairs. Steve feels off-kilter, but he takes another bite of toast.

Maybe these guys are Eddie's version of Robin. That's the only thing that makes any sense.

Steve picks up his cards, and starts organizing them in his hand. He isn't even sure what they're playing, but he guesses he'll figure it out. There were lots of card parties in the Harrington household growing up. He probably knows whatever they're gonna throw at him, as long as it isn't something they've straight made up.

Which is possible, he's sure, knowing Eddie.

But that's about the extent of the discussion about what they walked in on earlier.

Jeff turns over a card.

"Eldest, auction is in your hands," Jeff says, and Eddie looks down at his cards.

"Order it up," Eddie says, eating eggs and playing at the same time.

"Trumped up, just like your murder charges," Goodie says, and everybody laughs.

"That doesn't even make sense," Jeff says.

"You just wanted to say it," Gareth adds, and Goodie takes his needling pretty damn well, all things considered.

And Steve smiles, happy that this is something they can all joke and laugh about. That as fucking terrible as it all was, is, that they can still make light of it to cope.

That's not nothing. That Eddie wasn't lost to it. That he's here to be gently ribbed. That his friends believe in his innocence, totally.

Eddie names his card, and Gareth plays it, becoming Eddie's partner.

They continue to play, and things do not go Gareth's way, which Goodie seems to be enjoying.

And later, Goodie smirks, "I'm in the barn."

Gareth heaves a big sigh, "Damn. I'm gonna get skunked."

And everybody laughs at his misfortune.

They stay. Camp out in all the rooms in the house, staking their claim. And it's actually a lot of fun. Like a high school house party that just doesn't end in a fist fight on the lawn. Steve hasn't been this relaxed since, well, before. Before 1983. Before monsters and the Upside Down came crashing into his life.

He embraces this break, this chance to just be. He's not a kid anymore. Not in age, and definitely not in life experience.

He lays on the beach, catching a tan.

These couple of weeks have felt as close to a vacation as he's gotten in years, and he lets the worry of the past slide off his back.

Steve supplies the beer, Goodie has a few pre-rolls left, so they smoke, drink, and play cards. Steve watches them fight over the stereo, and he learns to recognize the new Accept album by ear with time.

They swim, except for Goodie, because apparently he's scared of gators. Even if they tell him that the gulf isn't a swamp, and the chances of him being taken down by a gator are extremely unlikely. Not impossible, gators gonna gate, but it's not like it's super plausible.

Goodie doesn't care. He's not doing it, and says no amount of peer pressure will work on him. So, he sits on the porch, beer on his knee. Cigarette in hand.

So much for him being big and bad, Steve thinks.

Today, girls have suddenly appeared down the beach. Screaming and laughing, and they all watch them intently. Taking in the bikinis. The bouncing boobies. Not one of them above watching a free show.

They have a volleyball that comes bouncing in their direction, leading the girls to finally notice them and approach. Apparently Steve's the only one with a working voice, though. He learns there are a pair of sisters staying in their grandparents' beach house with their friends. One last hurrah before going back to, or for a couple of the girls starting, college.

University of Nebraska. Go, Cornhuskers. Apparently.

Since Steve's the only one engaging like a normal human, they're paying extra attention to him. One in particular. And she's cute. But he politely rebuffed her attention the best he could, and then watched Eddie do the same.

Goodie builds a little bonfire, and Steve is kind of impressed. He doesn't even know where he got the wood at.

Of course, Steve was less impressed when he was sent off for the stuff to make s'mores.

Eddie followed him, and as nervous as Steve is any time Eddie pokes his head out of the house, it's probably fine. Honestly. They are so far from Hawkins.

Eddie does wait in the car at the grocery store, but then digs through the bag to see what Steve bought.

Graham crackers, chocolate bars and marshmallows. Steve's not sure what else Eddie expected, honestly. It's s'mores.

By the time they get back, one of the girls has taken a shine to Gareth, and now Steve and Eddie are watching him blush and blunder through what Steve thinks could be considered flirting, maybe.

It's honestly a good show.

For some reason, she isn't put off by Gareth's awkwardness, and later that night, with the window to his room open, Steve can hear Gareth talking to her down below on the porch.

He's not as bad as Steve once thought, none of them are.

Just like Eddie.

Steve should have realized that earlier, he's pretty sure. First impressions are almost never right about anyone.

And their partying continues, just now there are girls involved. The group, growing.

Goodie's suddenly not as scared of gators, apparently. Because there's a girl on his back out in the water.

Steve sees Gareth dip under the water, and knows where this is going, and sure enough, he must snag Goodie's foot, which causes a commotion.

Steve misses Robin. He sits there considering if there's any way he could get Mrs. Buckley to let her join them, but can't think of an excuse that would seem plausible. Unless Robin also wants to go to fake band camp, too.

Steve's lounging on the steps, leaned back, his elbows braced against the wood. Watching from behind his sunglasses.

Gareth sits next to him.

Two of the girls are hitting around a volleyball. Bouncing along the sand.

"Boobies," Steve says.

"Boobies," Gareth echoes, then laughs.

They sit and watch a few seconds longer, then Gareth says, "Eddie doesn't have those, you know."

"I know," Steve answers. "I like both. I'm okay with that. Are you?"

"Yeah. Eddie does too," Gareth says, then turns and looks at Steve fully.

Steve turns to see what he's doing.

"Thanks. For saving him. I know we've been kinda shitty at times, but we owe you."

They don't owe him anything, but he still teases, "Don't worry. Someday I'll collect."

Gareth slaps him on the shoulder, and then inserts himself in the volleyball game down below.

The next morning, Steve's shaving at the sink, bathroom door open, when Gareth appears in the doorway.

Then says nothing.

Steve keeps shaving, waiting to see what this is. Finally asking, "Eddie okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, he's fine. Um, I have a question."

Steve meets his eyes in the mirror. Still waiting.

"Do you have a condom I can borrow?"

Steve grins, "Maybe. But not borrow. I definitely don't want it back."

Gareth rolls his eyes, "Very funny. Eddie told me to ask you. I regret that decision, now."

Steve reaches over and gets his bathroom bag, and tosses it to Gareth, "Help yourself."

"Thanks," Gareth says, as he digs through it, finding what he was looking for. And then takes the whole box. Little shit.

But Steve lets him. He'd rather Gareth have more than he needs, instead of less. Steve can buy more. He's not embarrassed at all.

"Play safe," Steve says as Gareth tosses his bag back, it thumping against Steve's bare chest.

Gareth doesn't come home that night, and by mid-afternoon the next day and still no sight of him, Eddie is sending Steve down to check on him.

He's fine. Just laying on the couch in the girls' house, hand up the shirt of the petite, blonde one.

"Check in with Eddie later," Steve says, startling him. "You know how he worries."

Gareth laughs, and gives Steve a little salute and then a dismissive shooing away motion.

Another girl is at the top of the staircase, and lifts the hem of her shirt, flashing him.

"If only I wasn't already spoken for, sweetheart," he says, holding his hands to his heart, as if he's wounded by this admission.

And she's laughing, and seems charmed, not offended, which is what he'd hoped for. He hasn't made anything official with Eddie, and they have definitely cooled their jets since Eddie's friends arrived, even if they all know.

Steve walks down the sand, and Eddie is waiting on the porch.

"Well?" Eddie asks.

"I saw some tits," Steve says, sitting down next to him, "and Gareth's fine."

Eddie laughs, and briefly slides his hand through Steve's arm, squeezing his elbow.

In no time at all, the girls are packing up their cars, and Gareth is acting like he's about to become a war widow.

Steve gets it. He does. Your first, you don't forget. But this should have been a little summer fling for him, not a pending broken heart.

It's not like Gareth doesn't have to go soon, too. Labor day is quickly approaching.

Gareth is pretty pissed off that summer has slipped away, and now he has to go back to school. One more year. The youngest. Without him, they could probably stay indefinitely.

And he's very unhappy about that fact.

But, he's made it his life's mission to make it clear to all of them that while he has to go back to high school for another year, at least he's not a virgin anymore.

They're all sick of hearing it, and Steve's grateful it isn't gonna be him stuck in the car for twelve hours with him this time.

Eddie has given Gareth very explicit, detailed instructions on how to run Hellfire. How to keep it going for the other sheepies. Sure, the name will likely have to be changed. It's far too tainted now. And they might even if they have to do it in private, away from that godforsaken school, but Eddie wants that to happen, if need be.

A few days later, it's their turn to leave, and they're dragging feet, Gareth especially.

"Are you ever coming home?" Gareth asks Eddie, standing next to his mom's borrowed minivan.

Eddie looks at Steve, and Steve doesn't have the heart to answer that.

But no. Eddie's probably not.

Alone, once again, Steve follows Eddie up the staircase, his hand resting in the small of his back. As if Eddie still needs help with his balance. He doesn't, but Steve wants to touch him, nonetheless.

Steve watches as Eddie pulls his shirt over his head. He's gotten a bit of a tan while his friends were here, and he looks healthier, finally. Steve's hands find his bare skin, squeezing his sides. Eddie laughs, hair falling into his face.

And Steve wants.

He kisses him like he means it, then pulls back. During his last beer run, he'd done some other stocking up as well. He pulls the plastic sack out of the nightstand. New boxes of condoms and K-Y jelly. He shakes them out onto the bed.

"You wanna?" Steve asks, and Eddie looks at them, cheeks going a little red, but he nods.

There's a little confusion on the expectations here, but Steve rolls over onto his belly. This is what he wants. He's never had it, but he wants it, anyway.

"I've never, have you ever?" Eddie asks, holding the tube in hand, flipping the cap open and shut, over and over again.

Steve shakes his head, "No."

There's a learning curve. It's kinda steep, but at least they can laugh about it. They can figure it out together, and now that Eddie's finally got two fingers in him, Steve thinks they're finally getting somewhere.

It's an odd feeling, honestly. He isn't sure what he feels about it, other than full.

But he's gonna ride this out. See where it goes.

Now up on his knees, the blunt head of Eddie's cock is definitely bigger than his fingers, and Steve hangs his head down between his shoulders, and sucks in a sharp breath.

Eddie stills, "You still okay?"

There's a hand on Steve's ass, and he focuses on that point of contact. Like everything is in that warm touch, and nowhere else.

"It's a lot," Steve admits. Because it is.

"Want me to stop?" Eddie asks, his other hand now trailing up Steve's spine.

"No. No. Just, more lube, I think. And go slow," which Steve knows is an ask. He's pretty sure Eddie's barely been moving at all.

Eddie slides out, and now Steve feels left open, and missing something. It's so fucking weird. There's more lube, and more fingers, and even more lube. Steve feels it dripping out of him, he's pretty sure.

But then Eddie's pressing in again, and it seems to go a little easier. He feels the head of his cock pop past his rim, right into him, and he groans, fisting at the sheets underneath him. It's good, and the rest of the slide feels easier.

Eddie eventually stills.

"You all in?" Steve asks. He's not sure what he'll do if there's more.

"Fuck, yes," Eddie answers, and then Steve can feels his fingertips brushing along his hole as it's stretched around his cock, buried deep inside. "Look at you."

Steve can't do that, but wishes he could.

"You good?" Eddie asks.

Yeah. Steve thinks he's good, "Yeah. Yeah. You can move. Slow. Go slow. But fuck me."

And Eddie does. It's a little hesitant, and uneven, but he draws back, and then slides deep again. And again. Until he's found a nice rhythm. Steve feels insane, and whiny, and so fucking needy.

He didn't expect how much he'd enjoy this. He kinda just thought he'd be taking one for the team.

Fuck that. He's taking this for himself. Happily, greedily.

It doesn't last long. Steve knows how that goes. The first time you slide into a body that's allowing, welcoming, you inside. It's overwhelming, and feels good in a way you can't even begin to expect.

Eddie shoves deep one more time, and comes with a noise that is nearly enough to send Steve over the edge, untouched.

When he pulls out, Steve feels empty. Cracked open, and then Eddie rolls him over onto his back, slick hand finding his cock, eyes locked straight on Steve's, and Steve melts into it. He looks at Eddie. Into his dark eyes, his hand gripping Eddie's scarred waist, holding on.

It's a firm slide up, and back down, and Steve can feel his orgasm building. And when he tenses and comes, splattering his own belly and chest, he feels so fucking good. Eddie eventually lets go, cleans him up, and then curls into his side.

Fingers dancing along his skin, and Steve suspects, going from mole to mole.

He's gonna fall in love with him, hell, probably already has.

"We gotta do something. Make a plan. We can't stay hidden here forever," Eddie eventually says, and Steve squeezes his eyes shut. "Even if I want to."

Steve knows. He knows that's true.

"Okay. I'll figure it out."

Steve paces on the porch, worried. He eyes the nailbat leaning against the railing, waiting, in case he needs it. He's scared he's made a mistake. Scared that it's gonna be helicopters, spotlights, and a whole fucking army decending on them.

It's not.

It's Dr. Sam Owens. Alone, with a briefcase.

Two hours later, Eddie Munson has a whole new identity, and a small tote bag of cash. A payout Steve hadn't even known to ask for, but Owens had brought as a peace offering to keep Eddie quiet if he'll just slink off and not expose all their secrets.

Wayne's paperwork is on the counter, if he wants it.

Jeff and Goodie are bringing Wayne out next week. That's the plan anyway. If they can lure him into the car.

Eddie can't return to Hawkins with his new identity, but he can leave the beach house. Can leave Florida. He can go anywhere he wants, now.

Dr. Owens is descending the steps, nearly onto the sand, when Steve hurries out onto the porch.

"Hey, wait!"

Dr. Owens turns around, and Steve suddenly isn't sure what to say.

"Yes?"

"Um. What would it take, to get me that kind of paperwork?"

Owens smirks, just a little, and reaches into his briefcase, pulling out a manilla envelope.

Steve takes it.

"How did you know?" Steve asks.

"I've had eyes on you from the moment you ferreted him out of Hawkins."

Steve swallows. Nods.

Looks down at the envelope he's gripping tight. He could disappear, too. If he wants. He'd have to find some way to loop in Robin, of course, but he could just…go.

Wherever Eddie wants.

"Thank you," Steve says.

"We think the activity in Hawkins has ceased. Once they finish rebuilding, it should be back to business as usual."

Steve nods again. But it'll never be the same. Can't be. But the town will be able to start over. Have proven that's the plan. Hell, they've already figured out a way to start school on time and everything.

Dr. Owens gives him one last look, and then he's gone.

Eddie's standing on the porch, and as Steve climbs the steps, Eddie holds open the door, asking, "What's next?"

Steve turns the lock, "Anything you want."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesmuttyseptember and @steddiesongfics to follow along with the filth and fun! 💦🎵

Notes: In the 1980's Destin was just starting to turn into the vacation city it now is. It went from fishing village to a resort city.

Accept's album Russian Roulette was released on April 21, 1986. As we're all aware, Eddie was wearing an Accept pin on his battle vest during S4.

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cosmicdahlias · 2 days

Text

You Know What You Do To Me

a ford x reader fic

MINORS DNI

warnings: smut, oral, mdom

i’ve really enjoyed writing these fics! it’s been so long since i’ve been passionate about something like this 😭

It was another afternoon working at the Mystery Shack. You were dusting shelves, thinking about later tonight. You had two jobs, by day you sold overpriced knickknacks for your boss, local con artist Stan Pines, and by night you worked for his brother, Stanford. Before he even came back through the portal you were a big fan of his work, Dipper regularly lent you the journals during your breaks. You pored over the material, longing to meet the author.

When you met him it was a typical day, typical as things get in Gravity Falls. You were helping Soos fix up the place after the town had turned upside down, he filled you in on the cause. A portal, Stan had a brother who had been missing for 30 years, and more importantly this brother was the mysterious author you so desperately wanted to meet.

You were in the process of nailing a shelf back to the wall when you heard a door open behind you. You turned to see a man who looked nearly identical to Stan, but better posture, and somehow… cooler. You knew instantly this must be the man behind the journals. Your heart skipped a beat, not just from the excitement of finally getting to see the author, but because you couldn’t get over how handsome he was.

He looked at you and you felt yourself turn into a puddle. You could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks flush slightly, but convinced yourself you were seeing things.

“OH MY GOD THE AUTHOR IS LOOKING RIGHT AT ME!!! BE COOL!!! BE COOL!!!” You thought rapidly.

He made his way over to you and extended a hand to you, six fingers, the symbol on the journal’s cover made so much sense.

“Stanford Pines, you must be one of Stanley’s employees.”

“Y/n. You’re… the author of the journals.”

“You’ve read my journals?”

There it was again, the faintest tint of red on his cheeks.

“Yeah, multiple times. Your nephew lends them to me sometimes. I’ve always been into the weird and paranormal.”

“Well it’s always a pleasure to find someone who appreciates my life’s work.”

In the weeks that followed Ford would ask you to become his assistant. He insisted he was getting too old to do these things on his own. You loved working with him, unraveling the mysteries of this town. It gave you a sense of purpose.

The tension between you two was more than palpable, but neither of you had been willing to admit it to each other yet. Your time together was filled with stolen glances and flushed cheeks.

As you finished dusting a snow globe your mind wandered to your mentor. You had been pushing the limits lately, trying to get his attention. You wore more and more revealing clothes, you would drop your pen just to have an excuse to bend over in front of him, you would find reasons to stand close to him. You could tell it was driving him crazy, he would awkwardly excuse himself and disappear for ten to fifteen minutes, returning breathless.

But you started to think yesterday might have gone too far. You were sitting to the right of him as he was writing in his research notes, you pulled up your skirt slightly, slipping a hand down to your-

“Y/n, can we talk?”

You jumped, Ford had a habit of moving silently. A valuable skill when you’ve spent the last 30 years in other dimensions constantly staring death in the face.

You let your heart rate settle. “Yeah, sure.”

“Good, follow me.” He motioned you with his hand.

You both walked down the stairs to the basement where his lab resided, he turned to face you.

“Look, y/n, I know what you’ve been doing.”

You turned scarlet. You decided to feign ignorance.

“What do you mean?”

He exhaled a deep breath, massaging his temples. “Don’t play this game with me, you know exactly what you’re doing to me. Wearing shorter and shorter skirts, giving me bedroom eyes, finding any reason to bend over in front of me, and then yesterday-” he paused “yesterday you went out of your way to drive me crazy. You sat next to me, hiking up your skirt and you-“

He drew a shuddering breath, stepping awfully close, his chest almost touching yours “teased your clit over your panties, knowing full well you were in my peripherals. And you did that on purpose, stopping whenever I looked your way just to torture me, not letting me savor such a gorgeous view. I thought about you all night, I came with your name leaving my lips. And now-“ he pulled out a chair “you’re going to sit in front of me and touch yourself.”

“Ford-“

“No, you were so eager to do it yesterday, what’s stopping you now?”

You felt yourself grow wet under his words, you sat yourself down in front of him.

“Take off your panties, go ahead, take them off.”

You slipped the fabric down your legs and off your ankles letting them drop to the floor in front of you.

“Spread your legs, let me see you. Pull that skirt up.”

You obeyed his instructions.

“Now, slip a finger in your cunt and use your wetness to stroke your clit.”

You let your finger travel down to your dripping pussy, you traced little circles on your clit. You let out a sigh, Ford was watching you touch yourself, you had dreamed of this.

A growl rumbled in his throat, he watched you hungrily. His cock strained in his pants, he wanted to touch himself, but he couldn’t, not yet. You moaned softly, your brow furrowing in concentration.

“Faster, don’t stop.”

You picked up your pace, rubbing frantically, your moans growing louder, echoing through the lab. You hoped no one upstairs could hear you.

“Tell me how it feels.” He demanded.

“Mmmh, Ford, it feels so good.” You whimpered.

“That’s right, I know it does.”

He stepped close to you, a hand on the back of the chair, looking straight at you. You could smell him, fresh pine and leather. Your breathing became shallow and erratic, you were getting close. Ford could sense it.

“Are you going to cum?”

“Y- yes.”

“Good, look at me.”

You locked eyes with him, he stared at you intently. The feeling on your clit was becoming overwhelming, you were going to cum, dear god you were going to cum for him.

“Nhhh, ah hah, Ford.” You pathetically whimpered out, you couldn’t form a real sentence if you tried.

You felt yourself right on the edge, god you loved this, you loved putting on a show for him, you gritted your teeth in anticipation.

“Stop.”

“Wh- what?”

“You heard me, stop touching yourself.”

You withdrew your hand, your orgasm ruined.

“Why did you- I don’t understand.”

“You’ve been teasing me for weeks, with yesterday being the final straw. Now you’re going to see how it feels. Actions have consequences and you’re going to learn that. You don’t get to cum.”

He pulled you up by your arm, he grabbed your face and kissed you sloppily in pure hunger and desire. He let you go and dropped his hands to his belt buckle, undoing it.

“You need to see what you’re doing to me.”

He slipped his pants down enough to reveal his thick, hard cock. Fuck, he’s big. You bit your lip instinctively.

“Stroke my cock, now.”

You wrapped your hand around his shaft, your thumb massaging the head. He let out a groan of approval and you began pumping his cock. He started kissing and sucking on your neck, he was going to mark you so everyone knew you were his property. He started to buck into your hand, a bead of precum forming at the head. He throbbed, moaning into your neck.

He took your face in his hands again, god you loved when he looked at you.

“Get on your knees and take my cock in your mouth.”

“Yes sir.”

He throbbed at “sir” no one had ever called him that, he liked it. He made a mental note to encourage you to keep saying it.

You dropped to your knees and took his full length in your mouth.

“Fuuuck baby you’re so good at this, no one’s ever taken me all the way down before.”

He grabbed a fistful of hair and began fucking your mouth aggressively. You choked and pulled back. He chuckled.

“Oh poor baby, guess I spoke too soon, I’m sorry sometimes I forget how hard it is to handle a cock like mine.” He taunted while stroking your chin with his thumb. “I’ll try to slow down, it helps if you make an effort to breathe out of your nose.”

He resumed face fucking you, this time with a slightly more gentle rhythm, but you still felt the inclination to gag. You attempted to steadily breathe out of your nose and felt the urge subside. He clenched his jaw and picked up his pace again, you were really struggling to take him, he liked it that way.

His hips stuttered and bucked against your mouth. He could feel his orgasm rising.

“Baby slow down, slow down you’re gonna make me cum.”

You decided to ignore him, continuing to work your mouth on his cock.

“Stopstopstopstop. Stop!” He growled.

He seized your hair and pulled you off of his cock, knocking you backward. He reached out a hand and pulled you to your feet, then raised a hand and brought it down hard on your ass.

“You need to listen to me, next time I won’t be so nice.”

You savored the idea of being left with a six fingered welt. He lowered his hands to your hips and spun you around. He pressed himself against your back, his hard cock throbbing on your ass. His hand gripped your throat and he whispered in your ear.

“I’m going to fuck you senseless until I finish inside of you and you’re not going to cum, do you understand?”

You nodded fervently.

“Good, you’re so cute when you listen.” He said while slipping his thumb in your mouth.

He bent you over his desk, papers falling to the floor, one hand gripping your shoulder, the other on your hip. He pressed the tip of his cock into you before forcing the rest of his length inside of you. You started to scream out in pleasure, but Ford instinctively clasped a hand over your mouth.

He slapped your ass again. “Quiet, stardust, do you want everyone to hear you?”

He began to pump his cock inside of you, his hips slapping against your ass. You tightened around him and he groaned loudly.

“God I love the way your pussy squeezes my cock, it’s so fucking perfect.” He panted between thrusts.

He fucked you with a brutal intensity. He was doing this for his own pleasure, not yours. Like he said, you didn’t get to cum, not after what you had done yesterday. He pulled out and you whined, paused for effect and slammed himself back in. You threw your head back, moaning his name.

It felt so goddam good to finally fuck you like this after all the moments he had to steal himself away from his work to just to stroke his cock because you were incessantly teasing him. He had imagined you bent over his desk like this thousands of times. The image of you taking his cock like a good little whore was all the could picture whenever he caught you staring at him.

His grip on your shoulder and hip tightened, nails digging into your flesh. He was fucking you faster and faster, he wanted so badly to know what cumming in you felt like. You started to move your hips back onto him. Oh my god he couldn’t believe you wanted him this badly.

“Goddammit yes baby fuck back on my cock like that, you’re gonna make me fucking cum.”

You whimpered in approval.

“Would you like that stardust? Huh? Do you want me to cum inside of you?”

All you could manage was a weak “Uh huh.”

He panted like a dog, he was gonna breed you like one. Sweat began go form on his forehead, his glasses fogging.

“You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted this, wanted you. When I first met you I thought you were so fucking beautiful. I spent that night stroking myself to the cute Mystery Shack employee. I thought it was just a lonely old man’s fantasy that you would ever show me any interest, but then you started working for me and you would look at me with those eyes. God those eyes, so full of lust and want.”

You felt his cock throb inside you, he was close.

“I’m going to fill you up, have you dripping with my cum. Tell me you want it, I want to hear you beg.”

“Please, I need your cum in me. I need it so bad.”

“Call me sir.”

“Ahhh, hah, please sir, cum in me.”

He moaned loudly as he fucked you with a ruthless intensity. He buried himself deep in you as he came, your name escaping his lips. He didn’t stop fucking you, the feeling was overwhelming but he couldn’t help himself.

For a while there was nothing but the sounds of your heavy breaths. He began to slowly pull his cock out of you, cum spilling onto the floor. Jesus fucking christ he needed to draw this later.

You stayed bent over his desk, legs shaking. He grabbed you by your waist and pulled you onto his lap as he sat in his desk chair.

“Are you alright? I didn’t take it too far, did I?” He said stroking your hair.

“N- no, it was incredible.” You said between haggard breaths.

“Good, now here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go upstairs and finish the rest of your shift. You are to keep your panties off and let my cum slowly drip out of you. And then later tonight you’ll stay here and I’ll reward you by letting you cum on my tongue and cock, if, and only if you heed my instructions. Do we have a deal, stardust?”

Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. Having Ford to yourself all night? Holy fucking shit yes.

“Deal.” You smiled.

“That’s my baby.” He said cupping your chin and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You ascended up the creaking stairs back to work. Mind still buzzing with the moment you had just shared with Ford.

“There you are. I was startin’ to think you ditched, but then I- whoa, what happened to you, kid? You look like you’ve been hit by a bus.” Stan said in his gruff voice.

You caught your reflection in the window, your hair was a mess. You quickly attempted to fix it.

“Ah, uh, I was just helping Ford fix some stuff.”

Stan stared at you for a second before a smirk creased his lips.

“Oh yeah I bet he fixed you real good, kid.”

You turned beet red “No, that’s not what I-“

He laughed. “Look, I’m just happy you two finally hooked up. I was gettin’ real sick of watching you two ogle at each other like horny repressed teenagers. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a bet to settle with Wendy.”

“Great, Stan. Thanks for not making things awkward.”

#ford pines #ford pines x reader #ford pines smut #ford pines fanfic #gravity falls

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tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang · 10 hours

Note

Life has been really cruel to me. Maybe some hcs of the different ways Rindou says I love you? I love your content thank you for all that you do.

Oh that's too bad, I hope things get better for you! But here are the different ways Rindou says "I love you"

Definitely more of an actions kinda guy then a words guy when it comes to showing affection. Just feels more comfortable doing nice things to show he loves you rather then saying it.

However when he's drunk (or tired) he says it a lot. He can actually be a bit clingy while drunk and will pester you for kisses while proclaiming his love.

Always gives you his jacket when you seem cold

Drives you to anywhere you need to go

If you seem interested in his food he'll offer you some (sometimes with the excuse that he's not hungry)

Doesn't hesitate to defend you against anyone who says anything bad.

Sometimes if you're watching his DJ performance, he'll lock eyes with you and wink before playing a song he knows you like.

Puts his arm around you if you guys are walking in a kinda sketchy place.

Let's you play about with his hair (he never let's anyone else do this)

Goes to stores he's never been to before and buys things he may find a bit embarrassing (manga or romance stories anything like that you're into) but he knows you like it.

Asked Ran for advice when he first met you despite knowing he would get teased (and still get's teased about it)

Always carries your bags for you if he thinks they're heavy

Has a habit of buying you random things he think you'd like or that reminded him of you.

Automatically thinks of you when he hears the word 'pretty'

Let's you steal all his best t shirts and hoodies

He's very good at reading your emotions and takes the time to make things better for you.

Actually cares what you think about how he looks/ acts. He rarely ever cares what other's think.

Knows your favourite everything, your favourite food, favourite drink, favourite colour etc

Says a lot of little phrases like "stay safe", "text me when you get there", "I care about you" as well as a few pet names for you.

When he does say he loves you he blushes a lot

And finally, you're the one he took ages choosing an engagement ring for. The one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. He may not say the words too often but he has lots of little actions that speak for him, that say "I love you"

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo rev #rindou haitani #haitani rindou #tokyo revengers spoilers

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jrswritings · 2 days

Text

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter Fourteen - Tyler Owens x Reader

Get caught up with the Chapters 1-13 on the Masterlist! :)

Chapter Fourteen - My Little Wild Wrangler

While walking out of the doctor’s office with about 15 stitches in your arm, you were practically mauled by Asher and Finn who were both crying. You couldn’t help but laugh while putting your arms around them and giving them a light squeeze.

“We thought you were gone forever,” Finn whined.

“And then we would’ve been stuck with that weirdo wrangler and his team without you,” Asher cried.

“Guys, he isn’t all that bad,” you said, looking up to see Tyler cleaning the grass and other debris off Lil Blue and Ol Red.

“But he’s crazy, (Y/n),” Asher said, pulling away from you and wiping his eyes.

“And you’re saying we’re not?” You asked, looking at both of them with a smile.

“I guess you’re right, but I still don’t like him,” Finn said, looking at you with his eyebrows furrowed together slightly.

“No one said you had to, Finn,” you said, walking over to your truck to check out the damage.

“Looks like you need to get a front guard like the one I have,” Tyler said, leaning against his truck.

“Headlights are replaceable,” you said, looking at your broken headlight on the driver’s side, “Zach at Tornado Tires usually has stuff for my truck in stock as he drives a 350, too.”

“Maybe for Christmas I’ll get you one,” Tyler said softly, and started to walk down towards JoAnn’s diner.

“If we make it that far,” you joked, walking behind him while sending a text to Zach about a headlight replacement.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tyler asked while stopping in his tracks which caused you to run into him.

“It was a joke, Ty,” you said, regaining your balance and then walking around him, “Chill out.”

“Sorry, I can’t chill out when someone I care deeply about just went through a tornado,” he huffed at you, “It should’ve been me who saved that kid.”

“And it wasn’t, it was me,” you said, turning to face him and crossing your arms, “Just be glad I’m not an idiot and know what I’m doing out there even while I was scared.”

“I’m glad you’re alive, (Y/n),” he sighed, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t.”

“You would’ve grieved a day or two then went back to chasing like nothing happened. You’d fall in even more in love with Kate and have a big ol happy family,” you snapped, turning around and walking towards the dinner.

“(Y/n),” he called after you, knowing he messed up.

You had just went through a tornado and Tyler chose now to take your joke seriously, you were uptight from almost being killed and having a boys life in your hands. What if he hadn’t made it and you did? You would’ve been destroyed and most likely quit chasing.

You slowed down your walking pace and took a deep breath. As much as you were scared, you had to realize Tyler was, too. He had just divulged all his feelings to you the day before and he could’ve lost you. You stopped walking and just stood in the middle of the sidewalk while hanging your head. While trying not to cry you heard his boots scrape across the cement then stopping behind you.

“Ty,” you sighed softly, “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“I’m sorry, too, babe,” he whispered, “I should’ve been more sensitive to the fact that you were the one out there.”

“You didn’t deserve for me to snap at you either,” you said, turning and facing him.

“No, I did, I was just thinking about me and what I could’ve lost,” he said, looking down into your (y/e/c) eyes.

“Apology accepted,” you said, looking up into his.

He pulled you in for a hug, not caring if anyone saw as he would and could make up some excuse about you needing support after going through that and your team falling apart.

Your body relaxed after making contact with Tyler. Part of you loved how relaxed you felt with him, but another part hated it as you were falling hard for him. You pulled away as you heard a voice call out for Tyler.

“Tyler!” Boone called, running over to him, “The team and I heard what happened! We can’t believe we missed it or didn’t see it coming!”

“It kind of came out of nowhere, and it was dark so we would’ve had a hard time seeing it. Where the hell were all of you anyway?” He asked, smacking Boone’s shoulder playfully.

“We were out in Woodward last night to do some bar hopping, you weren’t back when we were leaving so we left without you,” he said, “We don’t even know where you were.”

“I was out,” Tyler said, rubbing the back of his neck, “Thankfully no one was really injured.”

“The only one I heard was actually hurt was (Y/n) from the Storm Riders,” Boone said, “She’s quite the wild one, ain’t she?”

“Yeah,” Tyler chuckled, “She definitely is.”

“I’m going to catch up with the team to help out anyone else,” Boone said, “We should all do dinner tonight.”

“I think that will work,” Tyler said, “I have a couple things want to talk to the team about anyway.”

“Sounds good, boss!” Boone said while jogging back to Dani and Dexter.

“I’m wild now, huh?” You asked, putting your hands on your hips.

“I can’t say you aren’t,” Tyler said, turning around to face you with a smirk, “My little Wild Wrangler.”

“Sounds like a new t-shirt idea,” you said, walking to the diner.

“You mean like the one you’re wearin’?” He asked, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“It’s called a comfy bedtime shirt,” you said, pulling the flannel over the tornadeo shirt you had worn to bed. You were thankful that your mom engrained into your head to rarely sleep without a bra on due to emergencies like such so you weren’t stuck looking like a participant for a wet t-shirt contest.

“It’s okay, babe,” he said, “Someday you’ll sleep next to the real deal and the shirt won’t suffice anymore.”

“Slow it down, cowboy,” you laughed.

“I’m just sayin’,” he said, shrugging, “You’ll never want to go back.”

“We’ll see about that,” you said, “Unless Asher and Finn were having a log sawing contest in their room, I’m pretty sure you were the one snoring up a storm last night.”

“Hey now, I can’t help I was tired after such an exciting day with a beautiful woman,” he said, throwing his hands up while trying to defend himself.

“I’m pretty sure the shirt is a lot quieter than the real thing,” you joked, smiling at him.

“Now that’s just rude,” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

“Rude or the truth?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him and mocking him by putting your hands on your hips.

“Ouch!” He said, rubbing his chest, “That heart the ol heart.”

“You’ll be okay,” you said, walking into the diner with Tyler right behind you.

“Good morning, sunshines!” Cindy called out from behind the counter, “Quite the twister we had this morning, huh?”

“You could say that, Cindy,” you said, walking over to the corner booth and sliding into the seat. Tyler slid in on the other side of the booth, tapping your boots with his.

“Having the normal?” Cindy asked, starting to get a glass of water.

“I’ll actually skip the coffee this morning,” you said, “I’ve had enough excitement this morning to keep me awake for a couple days.”

“I’ll take a coffee,” Tyler said, grabbing a couple creamers.

“On it!” Cindy said, pouring a cup of coffee and your glass of water.

“Were you planning on telling your team tonight that we’re joining?” You asked, leaning back into the seat.

“Something like that,” he said, “I’ll need you to add Asher and Finn to our group chat though as I don’t have their numbers.”

“I can do that,” you said, taking out your phone and pulling up their contacts.

Tyler handed you his phone and when you opened the lock screen you saw it was a picture of you from last night at his little shack taking a picture of the sunset.

“Really?” You asked, showing him his screen which made him smile.

“What can I say?” he said, taking the coffee cup from Cindy when she walked over.

“You’re such a cheese ball,” you laughed, sliding up and it opening the phone.

You added Asher and Finn into his contacts and handed his phone back to him. You took yours out and texted your mom.‘Hey Mom, I plan on heading out that way possibly tomorrow. I wanted to today but my plans are being delayed. Let me know if that works for you. Love you.’

Taglist: @fanboyswhore9 @faith719 @ummmeg @nerdgirljen @winterassassin1804

#glen powell #glen powell x reader #twisters #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x y/n #glen powell x you #twisters x reader #tyler owens fanfiction #tyler owens twisters #tornado wrangler #twisters 2024 #twisters fanfic

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yourmomsemogarlicbread · 19 hours

Text

We Tried.

a blurb.

pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader (2nd person pov)

tags: ANGST, with a happy ending tho, mentions of alcohol.

CW: pretty much nothing! a fight is alluded to but nothing physical just a verbal fight. alcohol consumption is mentioned as well.

word count: a little over 2k

A/N: i wrote this for pretty much no reason BUT my friend @highriftplains said this is exactly whey they’ve been needing to read.

frankie, this is for you. enjoy.

masterlist | read on ao3

“We gave it a good shot didn’t we?”

Stabbed, right in your gut. Tears prickle at your waterline, you can’t look anywhere but the floor. A mere blissful 13 months ago everything was perfect, no issues, nothing bad, it was pure. Pure and absolute, just like the love you have- or should you say had?

13 was always a number you carried in your heart. Unlucky and taboo, superstition surrounded it, that’s why you liked it. You always thought it brought you good luck when you were younger. I guess it just bit you in the ass, didn’t it?

Jake was a perfect man, the only one you could really stand at the end of the day. And maybe he still is. It’s just a little hard to decide right now.

He sits on the end of the bed, elbows on his knees with his hands clasped together, he rests his chin ontop of them. You can only look at the floor his shoes rest upon.

“We tried.”

Approximately 2 and a half hours beforehand

You and Jake walk into Sam’s house, the creek of the door being your reminder that sound exists after the silent 30 minute drive to your current location. You both put on your best performance smiles, greeting Josh and Daniel in the dining room.

“Hey guys what’s up?” Josh asks the two of you, pushing his chair to the side to give his greetings in the form of embrace. He hugs his twin first, friendly reminder to you that you will always be last place, especially if things go down how you dreadfully think they will.

You hug Josh back as he turns to you, putting on your best face you feel the pit in your stomach for just a bit. A pit that comes with the words “This is the last time, isn’t it?”

Daniel rises from his chair as well, yet not for you nor Jacob. He brings his attention to Samuel, carrying a casserole dish in from the kitchen. “Dan can you go get the plates please,” is all he says, simply ignorant to your presence just now. You watch as he leans over a chair and places the dish in the middle of the glass table with a painfully audible clink. He turns to his left, your eyes meeting. You watch as his eyes go from surprise to concern.

Shit.

You quickly restore the smile on your face and greet him. You both share your greetings as Danny walks back into the room, plates and serving spoons in hand. He focuses on the plates as he sets them down gently. He looks up at you, oddly similar to the way Sam acts, and his eyes light up. “Oh hi!” He walks over as you greet eachother, then bothering to take a seat and prepare for dinner. You look over to where you left the twins. They’re missing from the spot they once inhabited, instead lingering in the hall. You watch, looking at Jacob, his eyes filled with the look only you and Josh know.

You already know damn well what they’re talking about.

You stand up and place you bag on your seat, then excusing yourself, your feet already taking in to the bathroom. You shut the door carefully behind you, you hands resting on the door as you place your forehead against it. Not bothering to listen in- just simply resting due tothe treacherous emotions within.

You don’t even realise how long it’s been before you open your eyes again when you hear a faint “Oh shit dude…” linger in from the dinning room. You know what he’s telling them, how couldn’t he. You can’t even be mad at him either, you’d do the same anyways.

You turn to wash your hands as you finally bother to make your way back to the table.

The reflection in the mirror stares back at you. A smile plastered ontop, the sorrow in your eyes still lingers.

At least you can try.

You walk back to the table, greeted with the smiles of Sam and Danny. Not the twins though, they’re too connected anyways, no point in pretending. You take your spot at the table, directly across from Jake as Josh sits at the head of the table between you. You look into his eyes for the first time in what feels like decades. A small smile washes across his face, this time feeling forced, a first for the both of you.

And so the five of you carry out with your dinner plans as you feel the rift in the room. Sam had made margaritas for the group, to which you all happily oblige, you can never turn down his cocktails, no matter how much you grive for an impending collapse. You then find yourself helping Sam with the dishes as the rest of the group commence the pitiful first attempts at a campfire. The silence between you two is weirdly peaceful, the room only being filled with the sound of the tap and plates clinking together.

Sam stops, abandoning his plate at the bottom of the sink as he turns to you. You respond with a mere “Hm?” as you look back at him, you already know where this is heading.

“Hey,” he pauses for a moment, gathering the right words inside his head. He places a comforting hand ontop of your shoulder.

“You feeling ok?”

“Oh, yeah I’m fine Sam. Don’t worry about me I’m just tired.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

The two of you are interrupted by Daniel opening the back door. “Hey, we got a fire started do you want me to bring out the little cocktail tray you got Sam?”

“Oh yeah that’ll be great thank you! We’ll be out in just a bit,”

The two of your finish your dishes as you then walk out onto the patio. The three guys all sitting around the fire. Daniel, a fresh Guinness in hand, sits next to Josh as Sam takes his spot next to him leaving the last chair next to Jake. You don’t hesitate to sit down physically, mentally you want rip yourself to shreds as you sit next to him.

The night starts to pass by, all of you getting more tipsy by the minute. Jake even bothers to loosen up, seemingly distracting himself by telling a weird story from his childhood shenanigns with Josh. You all decide to turn in for the night making your way to Sam’s living room. Jacob had already decided he was too drunk to drive, and you of course had completley forgotten to stay sober.

You guys had to stay the night in one of the spare rooms.

Great.

You mentally kick yourself in the head as you walk into the guest room, ahead of Jake. You hear the door behind you shut. You hear a sight from Jake as he stumbles inside.

“Oh shit, I’ll be right back I gotta remind Sam of somethin-” Jake cuts himself off. You hear the doorhandle jiggle as he struggles to open it. “What the fuck?” is all he mutters out. You turn back to him to look at whatever the hell he was doing. “What’s wrong?”

You’re suddenly greeted with your answer.

You see the doorknob laying gently in Jake’s hand.

“Guys!” He calls out.

You hear footsteps come walking down the hall. “Yeah? What’s up?” you hear Sam ask.

“Your doorknob just came off in my hand!”

“What?”

“I can’t open the door dude!”

You then hear an audible laugh come from Sam and what sounds like to be Danny accompanying him. “Guys this isn’t funny!” You call out as the duo continue to cackle outside the door. You hear a confused Josh join them. “What the hell is so funny?”

“The doorknob came off in Jake’s hand!”

You listen in horror as Josh joins the laughter. “Guys what the fuck?” Jake calls out, obviously annoyed even more by whatever this sick joke was. “Oh god okay” you hear Sam say as he finally manages to contain his composure. “Oh god, uh well…” he trails off, a moment of silence and dread overcomes the two of you. “It’s ok you guys have a bathroom in there we can try to get you out tomorrow morning.”

“What?” you and Jake exclaim simultaneously.

“Sam this isn’t funny get us out of here.”

“No can do buckaroo! Anyways you guys clearly need it.” he chimes in.

“Goodnight guys!” you hear a Josh call out as the three seemingly abandon you and go to bed.

Fucking hell.

You just stare at Jake’s back as he drops the handle onto the floor, turning around to face you for the first time since dinner. His eyes are tired. Tired in a different kind of way. He seems lost, yet still completely aware of the situation at hand.

“Hey,” is all he says. The only words spoken to eachother within the past 6 or 7 hours. You can only reply the same. You stand up as he walks towards the bed, sitting down on it’s edge. You examine the lone handle pitfully resting on the hardwood floors.

A silence lingers once more for a moment as you place the handle back down on the ground.

“We gave it a good shot didn’t we?”

He sits on the end of the bed, elbows on his knees with his hands clasped together, he rests his chin ontop of them. You can only look at the floor his shoes rest upon.

“We tried.”

You pause, finally looking back up at him. You see his face. His poor, poor, grief stricken face. He just stares at you, like a deer in headlights.

You finally let go, resting you back against the door as you slide yourself down to the floor.

“I still love you.”

“I do too.”

The response takes you by surprise. He didn’t-

No he couldn’t have. He cant just say that after everything that happened yesterday-

He stands up.

He slides down the wall and sits to your right. Silence overtakes you again. Your eyes meet again. You finally realize your cheeks have had tears running down them for the past minute. His are the same.

He bites his lip as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his heaving chest. His breath is shaky, no matter how hard he tries to hide it- it’s still there.

You finally let go as he presses a chaste kiss to your head. You cant help but let out a pained anz audible cry into him. He soon follows suit.

The two of you sit there. You don’t even know how long you cry in eachothers arms. A weirdly therapeutic and healing feeling comes from this. But in the end you still manage to look up at him again.

You see Jake.

Not the current him, silently cradling your body.

The old him.

The Jake you first kissed 13 months ago.

“Can we just pretend that nothing ever happened?” he asks, a pitiful smile appearing across his teary cheeks.

“I’d really like that.” is all you respond with. And it’s all that's needed.

You’re in his arms again.

A tighter grip is on you as he hugs you like a man scorned. You grip him too, the emotions becoming all consuming. You can’t help but sob in his arms as he rocks you back and forth in his arms, never wanting to let go.

You simply forget the passage of time there. Simply becoming too tired to cry and dry heave any longer. You finally look up at him, suddenly greeted with his smile. That godforsaken smile.

It’s irresistible. He looks perfect.

You kiss him for the first time in what feels like forever.

You indulge for several minutes, never wanting to leave him. Never wanting to leave eachother.

It’s moments like these where you realize how precious he really is. His love. His compassion. His- well, everything. Everything about him will never fail to knock the wind out of you.

You finally let go of the tension built up in your lips.

“I love you so much.” is all that escapes his lips.

“I love you too.”

A pause lingers in the air.

“I really don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave.” is all you say.

“Me either.”

“We tried.” you laugh out, causing him to break.

“We really did.”

“But some things you gotta learn the hard way, right?”

“Right.”

#gvf #jake gvf #greta van fleet #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #greta van fic #danny gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #yourmomsgarlicbread writes #sam gvf #gvf fic #fanfiction #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fluff #angst with a happy ending

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