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fairyysoup · 11 months

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i can see you

♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret history of your long and arduous relationship with Steve Harrington.

aka: the 5 times you pined over each other, and the time you actually did something about it

words: 17.6k (we're NOT gonna talk about it lol)

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, flirting, making out, heavy petting, slight exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, biting, steve harrington has a big dick, themes of infidelity/cheating (sort of), skipping out on dates, bad dates, steve steal-your-girl harrington, almost-kisses, jealous!steve, jealous!reader, possessive behavior, smoking, alcohol consumption, allusions to marriage but it's never actually mentioned, canon compliant, reader and steve are the same age, 5+1 things, songfic, angst, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, mutual crush, slow burn one shot, mild twist ending, begins in season two (1984) and ends in the 90s, high school, scoops ahoy era, family video era, waiter!steve, steve harrington (the eras tour), vignette, one instance of billy hargrove slander, original characters created for plot, inspired by i can see you by taylor swift, other taylor song inspo throughout bc i'm insane like miss swift

a/n: hi and welcome to ✨rose's mental breakdown✨ yes this song will be my number one on spotify wrapped bc i listened to it on a loop for five days straight while writing this. idk. anyways this is So Much and i'm tired of looking at it so if there are any mistakes i apologize. anyways whoever can point out the most taylor song references aside from the obvious titular one gets a doubloon

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

You brush past me in the hallway, and you don’t think I can see you, do you? I’ve been watchin’ you for ages, and I spend my time trying not to feel it…

Hawkins High, September 1984

He’s so pretty sometimes that it’s disgusting.

That’s really the only thing you think when you watch Steve Harrington sneak up on his girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler, and swoop her off the ground in front of her locker. From across the hall, your locker hangs open, your body turned halfway toward them so that you can pretend that you’re not staring.

You stare a lot.

It’s not exactly the hair, you think- everyone shits a brick about his hair, for some reason that you don’t understand. Yeah, it’s nice… but you like everything else about him, too. You like how sweet he looks when he laughs. You like the way that he holds himself and the way that he looks when he puts his hands on his hips and stands around like he’s directing the traffic around him. You like how much of a prince charming he is, really. It would surprise you if he doesn’t win prom king at the end of the year. They already call him King Steve, it’s not too far of a stretch.

You close your locker just as Steve kisses Nancy, in front of god and everybody in the C Corridor hallway. Steve’s arms wrap around Nancy’s petite frame and he dips her, like they’re in some sort of George Peck and Audrey Hepburn movie. Not that the place is much of a cinematic setting, though. Down the hall, the science rooms are doing their dissection units, so the whole place smells like formaldehyde and disinfectant, and you sort of feel like curling up into one of those dissection pans and dying, yourself.

That should be me, your brain screams. Me!!

It’s always been like this. You’ve had a crush on Steve since freshman year- the fact that he’s dating Nancy, who’s a year younger than him, doesn’t escape your jealous mind. You’ve been in classes with him for four years, you’ve admired him quietly, you’ve hoped and prayed that he somehow noticed you noticing him.

You don’t think he knows you exist. Four years- and now you’re both seniors, about to graduate, and he still doesn’t notice you. You should really stop caring, or stop trying, or stop… pining. Or something.

You hike your bag up onto your shoulder and juggle your books in your arms. The bell rings, and quite suddenly the entire hallway erupts into pandemonium (predictable, sure, considering everyone loiters around instead of actually getting to class on time). Kids fly around you in all directions to get to their next classroom. Nancy Wheeler ducks away from Steve Harrington, avoiding yet another kiss.

God, you wish you could kiss him.

Someone slams into your shoulder from behind, muscling past you to get to science lab 5, rat central. Your binder slips out of the stack of books in your arms and clatters loudly to the ground, just as someone walks past and kicks it across the floor.

“Fuck,” you spit, chasing after it. The back of your neck feels hot. For the first time in four years, you hope to god that Steve Harrington doesn’t notice you.

You duck around people’s legs, trying to grab at your binder, while not trying to drop any more of the books in your arms. Loose papers are starting to fall out of the binder as it skitters across the floor, and this is becoming more and more of a comedy of errors by the minute.

Your fingers just brush the corner of it before someone kicks it again.

“Do you mind?” you snap as they walk away, not even looking in your direction. Crouched close to the floor, you don’t matter. Maybe you could count that as a blessing, considering you don’t want to be perceived right now.

You finally just throw away all dignity and crawl across the tile floor- disgusting and dirty and covered in sandy grit, as though it hasn’t been cleaned all year- to get to your binder.

And you come face to face with a pair of white Nike’s. Ones that you know way too well, because you’ve stared at them every time they’ve passed you in the hallway.

Nonononono- You clench your jaw and then look up, way up, to find Steve Harrington towering over you.

He looks like he was about to just step around you, but then he notices you gazing up at him from all fours, and his hazel eyes lock on yours. You blink at each other for a second before he flushes, a pink blush breaking out on his cheeks and crawling up his neck, and he looks away quickly, but crouches down to grab your binder before your hand can land on it.

“Sorry,” Steve says quietly, gathering up the couple papers that had started to slide out of the folders inside. You sit back on your heels, your blood rushing in your ears, mortified. His big hands gently poke the papers back into the folder as they should be before he hands it to you. “Looks like you’re gonna be late to class.”

You scoff. “Look who’s talking.”

Steve’s eyes find yours again, and he’s finally so close to you that you can admire the little bit of green in them. You’ve never been close enough to notice before.

He cracks a lopsided smile, one that he uses to charm people, you know- you’ve seen him use it on teachers and cute girls alike. “I’m always late to the party. But I get there, eventually.”

“I hope so.” He cocks his head at you. He doesn’t know the real meaning to your words- or, at least, you don’t think he does.

I hope you don’t stay oblivious forever, Steve Harrington. I hope you get there, eventually.

You take your binder from him, but you pull your eyes away from his a bit later than you properly should. “Thanks, Steve.”

You get up and take off toward your next class, walking quickly so that you don’t come off like you’re lingering too long. But, halfway down the hall, you look over your shoulder at him.

Steve hasn’t moved, still crouched down close to the floor, with his head bent like he’s deep in thought. With his back to you, you can still see the pink flush on the back of his neck, peeking out above his collared shirt.

‘Cause I can see you, waiting down the hall from me, and I can see you up against the wall with me. What would you do? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you…

Hawkins High, April 1985

Prom season sucks. Always has, and always will.

Maybe it was your fault for hoping that Logan Sawyer, popular prick extraordinaire, was serious about wanting to take you to prom. He seemed serious enough, stopping by your locker during passing period and leaning over you as he asked you, his mega-watt smile making you blush. You’d counted yourself lucky- you didn’t think anyone was going to ask you, and people aren’t allowed to go to prom stag.

It took Logan two weeks to find a prettier girl to go with, though. You don’t know why it hurts so much. Maybe it’s because you wanted to believe that you were someone’s first choice, but it never quite seems to turn out that way.

You wipe your tears in the mirror, scowling at your puffy, bloodshot eyes. The bathroom next to the girls’ locker room in the sports wing is completely deserted at this time- the boys’ gym class is in session now, and you’re cutting into your lunch time, but you really don’t want to have to go and cry at a lunch table, in front of a bunch of your bitchy peers, who will inevitably make fun of you for it.

Sniffling, but slightly more composed, you head out of the bathroom. The sports wing is ridiculously bigger than any other wing of the school (typical of American public schools, to prioritize sports over every other department). The wing boasts weight training rooms, dance rooms, three separate gymnasiums, and a door directly to the football field, with the locker rooms on the farthest end to allow for easy access to the field. Connecting all of these rooms is the longest corridor in the building, which seems to run for half a fucking mile.

You’ll have to walk that half mile, because in order to get to the cafeteria, you’re gonna have to traverse the entire building. You might not get to eat much today, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. Maybe Mrs. Marshall will be kind enough to let you snack on a granola bar in your next class period.

Halfway down the long hallway, you feel the angry sting of tears behind your eyes again, and your face screws up in frustration. You stop, turning halfway back toward the girls’ bathroom, wondering if you should just go back in and allow yourself to cry some more.

Suck it up, you think to yourself, smacking at your tear stained cheeks. He’s not the guy you really want to ask you to prom, anyways.

You press your fingertips into your eyes to relieve the sting of tears, taking a deep breath. Being in high school is driving you crazy. At this point in the year, the teachers have given up teaching, the students have given up learning, and you’re basically just biding your time in a glorified babysitting service until you can inevitably grab your diploma and get out of here. You can’t wait for that time to arrive.

A door opens further down the hallway, in the direction of the cafeteria. You wipe your nose once and keep moving in the direction you were going, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, standing in the middle of the hallway having a breakdown.

Moving forwards, you keep your eyes on the ground. Once you hear the door that had been opened slam shut again, you figure that whoever it was has moved on down the hallway, and you lift your eyes again.

They have not, in fact, moved on. And you suddenly have the urge to turn and fucking run back into the girls’ bathroom, because Steve Harrington is bent over at the drinking fountain, directly outside the boys’ weight room.

What the fuck, what the fuck. You suck on your teeth, trying not to falter in your stride. Maybe he hasn’t seen you, and you can just pass him up. It’s fine, he hasn’t seen you crying.

Your mind backtracks to the beginning of the year, you fumbling your binder all the way across the hallway and ending up right in front of him, crawling toward him. Looking up at him and probably, most definitely, making him really uncomfortable.

You have English class together, where you sit at the desk closest to the door. He comes in late almost every day, so he passes by you every time. Some days he looks at your desk. On good days, he meets your eye. But he hasn’t spoken to you since that day in September, and you really shouldn’t hold out hope that he will.

You definitely don’t want him to notice you when you’ve been crying, your face is a mess, your hair is limp and you look bedraggled. You just want to fade into the background of your next class with whatever snack you can get from the cafeteria snuck into your bag, so you can stress eat it without any guff from a teacher (like you aren’t 18 and capable of deciding when you are and aren’t allowed to eat).

You keep your eyes down. If you don’t look at him, he doesn’t exist.

Except, Steve Harrington always exists, in the back of your mind, and in your periphery. He is impossible not to notice, as per usual. He really just draws the eye like a magnet. Try as you might, your eyes keep flicking up to take stock of him.

He’s wearing a uniform gray P.E. shirt and gym shorts that don’t leave a lot to the imagination, and you fixate on his thighs more than you should. He has sweat dripping down his neck, wetting his hair on the sides of his face and the seam of his shirt. It shouldn’t be attractive. He shouldn’t be attractive. With his face a mess. And his hair limp, and looking bedraggled. Truly, you make a priceless pair, being the only two people in the hallway.

We’re perfect for each other, a voice says in your head. And you manage, for the first time in an hour, to crack a smile down at your shoes.

He finishes getting his drink at the fountain, and you figure that he’ll just go back into the weight room and not see you. But, of course, luck is not on your side.

Steve Harrington looks at you. And you look away, quickly, acting like you hadn’t been staring at him. And in your periphery, again, you see him stretch his arms over his head, and then turn and lean against the cinderblock wall beside the door to the weight room, with his hands on his knees as though he’s catching his breath.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

He does it so casually, and with the way he’s sweating and his face is flushed, you’re sure that he probably does just want to take a break before going in and lifting more weights. But something in the back of your mind says that the maneuver was too purposeful, immediately after he laid eyes on you.

It could just be wishful thinking on your part. You heard through the grapevine that Steve and Nancy Wheeler broke up in a nasty way just before winter break, and it doesn’t seem like he’s been interested in anyone since. He hasn’t dated anyone, hasn’t flirted with any girls or showed up at any parties. Nancy must have really broken his heart.

You know too well what that feels like, right now.

Nearing where he leans against the wall, you keep your head down and you plan on just passing by without any acknowledgement from him, same as it ever was. If he’s still carrying a torch for Nancy, you’re sure that he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You’ve nearly convinced yourself of it.

But then you hear your name called quietly, and it nearly makes you jump. You look over at him, thinking you’re just hearing things, but you look directly into a pair of hazel eyes again, and you feel yourself rocketing back in time to September.

You didn’t even think he knew your name.

You slow to a stop. It would be rude not to stop, right? “Uh… hi, Steve. You good?”

Steve Harrington looks you up and down, while he leans against the wall and breathes a bit heavily, like he’s out of breath. He peers at you through long eyelashes, looking impossibly inviting despite everything; the setting, your appearances, the way that you feel like dissolving into a puddle right in front of him. “Yeah, great. You?”

He’s scrutinizing your face now. You shrug, since he’s already seen you, and there’s no way to pretend you weren’t crying thirty seconds ago. “I’m fine. Just being dramatic, don’t worry about me.”

“When people say not to worry about them, it usually means that you should,” Steve muses. He looks coy, like he’s speaking from experience.

You sigh, stepping forward to get your own drink from the drinking fountain. “Logan Sawyer called off our date for prom.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses for a few seconds, watching as you bend down and take your drink, more silent than he usually is. “I mean… that really sucks. I’m sorry. But… Logan Sawyer?”

“Yeah.” You wipe your mouth, and then wet the ends of your fingers and use the cool water to rub at your stinging eyes again. When you’re done, you lean up against the wall beside him, letting your back settle into the cinderblock.

“The guy’s a fucking douche.”

“Tell me about it.”

“No, I mean it, I think it’s a good thing you’re not going to prom with him. He’s really shitty to girls.” You look up at Steve, who’s watching you with his arms crossed, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him wear. “I mean, the only guy worse than Logan is probably… I dunno…”

“Billy Hargrove?”

Steve laughs. Actually laughs. You’ve wanted to make him laugh like that for four years. His cheeks turn crimson and he grins down at his shoes, snickering like there’s way more to the joke he’s laughing at than you even know about. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s gotta be the worst.”

You chuckle, albeit with a sadder tone than he has. “Well, I’m not going to prom with either of them. So, I can count my blessings. I guess.”

Steve frowns, and he looks like he’s going to say something else, but you’re already turning away, not wanting to continue the depressing conversation about your lack of dates. Especially not from the one guy who you desperately want to go on a date with.

You get a few steps away before he takes a step after you, saying, “Wait. You, uh-”

You stop, and look back at him. He looks dumbfounded, his arm outstretched like he was going to try to grab you if you didn’t listen to him. When you frown, he steps back against the wall, bringing his hand up to run through his hair.

Oh . That’s a nervous tick. You know it, because you’ve watched him do it more than once in English, in front of the class during a presentation.

Steve looks down at his shoes, his brow scrunched in thought. He looks like he’s really trying to find the right words to say. In your head, a hopeful part of you imagines what those words could be. ‘Will you go to prom with me?’

Finally, he looks up at you resolutely. “You’ll find someone to take you to prom. I’m sure of it.” He nods a little, like he’s reassuring himself that he said the right thing.

You can’t help the smile that springs onto your face. It’s incredulous, of course, but he can’t know that. Keep trying, baby. You’ll get there, eventually.

“Thanks, Steve.” It’s the second time you thank him in the course of the year.

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Prom Night, May 1985

The dress you’re wearing is sleek and a lot simpler than some of the more popular styles on the dance floor, but you like it more than you care to admit. You’d just grabbed it off the rack at Macy’s, and beyond that you didn’t want to go all-out for prom. It turns out that your lab partner, Gavin Connelly, needed a date, too. So, you’re here with him, because you knew that if you missed prom, you would probably regret it.

Except, well.

Gavin, stoned out of his fucking mind, is sitting at one of the tables, nursing a cup of punch, looking like he’s two seconds from falling asleep. You’ve taken to making the rounds and saying hi to anyone you can call a ‘friend,’ because you’re tired of just loitering next to him. Something tells you he didn’t want to even be here.

The speakers are playing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart,’ and couples are swaying on the dance floor in a Bonnie Tyler-induced haze. At a loss for people to bother, you wander back over to your date to find his head plastered to the white table cloth.

You glance to the guy sitting next to him, a kid with glasses who you don’t recognize but who seems to know your date, because he’s just patting Gavin’s back. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, no, he’s dying.” The kid shoots you a sarcastic smile.

You nod, pressing your tongue hard to the roof of your mouth. “Well, if he wakes up, tell him I’m getting some air.”

Fuck this. Fuck prom. Fuck high school boys.

Your heels, which are killing your feet already, click loudly on the tile hallway floor as you exit the gym. The table where you can check your bag and coat are located at the other end of the hall, where everyone is supposed to enter through the door to the football field.

You can hear voices from the far end of the hall, and Bonnie Tyler’s voice fading out the further you get from the gym. You might never be able to hear that song again without thinking of your ruined slow dance opportunity.

As you pass by, someone coughs off to the left and you turn your head to see Steve Harrington, black tie and all, loitering in the shadows. You stop a few feet from him and squint into the dark.

You can’t believe it. He always seems to show up at the worst times. “What are you doing, skulking around?”

“I’m not sulking.”

You snort, stepping into the shadows with him. “No, skulk- like, sneaking around?”

“Well, I didn’t mean to sneak-” he looks over his shoulder at the gym entrance. “I’m just getting some air.”

“Funny,” you murmur. “I was just about to do the same thing.”

He eyes you, a lot like he did a few weeks ago in this same hallway, further up toward the other end of it. He takes in your hair, styled painstakingly to ‘perfection,’ or as close as you could approximate it, and your off-the-rack department store dress. You suddenly feel like you aren’t as pretty as you thought you were at the beginning of the night.

But then he meets your eye, and all those insecurities fade into the back of your mind. He’s smiling at you, and that can only be a good thing.

“So, uh…” Steve leans back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, “You found someone to take you?”

You press your lips into a tight line. You don’t really want to think about your date right now, but- “Gavin Connelly.”

“Who?”

You laugh, kicking the heel of your shoe against the ground with a soft clack. “Yeah. God, I wish I didn’t know him right now.”

“Why, what’d he do?” Steve sounds perturbed. You look up to find him scowling already.

“Oh, he just ate a pot brownie before he picked me up and passed out at one of the tables.” You finish with a tired giggle, shrugging at Steve as he peers at you with an annoyed expression. “Who did you bring?”

“Kelly Palmer.”

You know Kelly. She doesn’t say much, but she’s gotten a scholarship to a big art school. “Do you like her?”

“Yeah, she’s nice,” he says mildly. Unconvincingly.

You can understand the subtext. She’s not Nancy. When you look at his face, he seems tortured in the low light coming from down the hall.

“Guess I’m oh-for-two,” Steve adds after a pause. “Last year’s prom, Nance and I didn’t have such a good time, either.”

You nod. It seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. “I’m sorry,” you offer. You don’t know the ins-and-outs of Steve and Nancy’s relationship, aside from watching them suck face in the hallway five paces from you for a year and a half. “Prom sucks. High school sucks. These can’t be the best years of our lives, trust me.”

“Yeah, I hope not.”

“I just can’t wait to get out of here, you know,” you grumble, allowing your sour mood to come out a little more than normal. It seems like Steve is just really good at getting you to let your guard down. “I’m planning to go to Chicago for college. This is all just… you know, it’s just the starting point. What about you, any big plans?”

“Dunno. I didn’t get accepted to any schools, so I’ll just be getting a job here in town until something better comes along.” Steve shifts, his heel hitting the wall behind him. He looks disappointed when he says, “I think I made too many mistakes.”

You frown, chewing on your lip. “What do you mean?”

He gives you a heavy look, like he’s gearing up to say something important, something game changing- and then his gaze softens.

“You’ve got an eyelash.” He gestures to his own eye, like it’ll make you understand exactly where the loose one is on your face.

“Oh.” You falter, lifting your manicured hands and wiping at your undereyes. “Did I get it?”

“No, uh- here, I can-” Steve tentatively reaches forward, and you step toward him to let him touch your face.

Steve Harrington is touching your face.

His fingertip brushes your cheekbone, so featherlight you would barely feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of everything that he said or did. His touch glides across your cheek and toward your temple, and then he seems to keep it there, his hand hovering just over your skin.

Reflexively, your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder. You’re inches from Steve’s face, your eyes falling to his lips.

You could kiss him. You could live your fantasy, right now.

Steve’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, and then he says, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. He doesn’t say that you look beautiful. He doesn’t say it conditionally, like it’s just for tonight. You are beautiful. Even when you’re crawling on all fours after your binder. Even when you’re crying, and your hair is limp, and you look bedraggled.

“Steve…” you whisper, inching closer to him.

“STEVE??!”

You jump away from him like he’s burned you, and peek around the hall corner to see Kelly Palmer standing outside the gym looking up and down the hall, searching for him. She looks lost, and sad, like he must have ditched.

She looks an awful lot like you just did, coming out of that gym.

You feel Steve’s hand where it had fallen to your wrist, dragging your attention gently back to him. You take his hand and squeeze it once, giving him a tight smile.

“You brought her here for a good time,” you say with your bravest smile. “Just don’t pass out at one of the tables on her, okay?”

Don’t be a douche. Don’t be like Logan Sawyer.

Steve swallows, and gives you a short nod. You think he finally got there.

You give a soft pat to the lapel of his suit jacket. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

He touches your arm one final time before he slips around the corner, just as Kelly turns to go back into the gym. You watch him walk away, and you think to yourself, That’s the last time I chase after Steve Harrington.

Wherever there is, it’s not with you.

Steve loops his arms around Kelly’s waist and lifts her, earning a thrilled squeal as the silver taffeta of her dress glints blue in the light from the gym. You wait until they’ve disappeared back into it before you turn and high-tail it toward the coat check table.

And we kept everything professional, but something’s changed, it’s something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it’s best if we move fast and keep quiet…

Starcourt Mall, June 1985

“Come on, it’s ridiculously hot outside,” your best friend, Shelly, groans as she pulls you along by the wrist. “I can’t believe they only have one ice cream place here.”

“I’m sure they have slushies at the-”

“Ice. Cream.” You know better than to argue with her.

Scoops Ahoy has a novelty nautical theme that makes you want to both laugh and break down in tears when you see it. The PA is playing a cutesy rendition of Drunken Sailor on accordion, and you think that if you keep looking at the striped wallpaper behind the counter, you might get literally seasick. In the mall. In landlocked Indiana.

Or… is it landlocked if it fronts Lake Michigan? It doesn’t matter. You’ll be in Chicago in two days, anyways.

You let Shelly drag you along until you look towards the front counter, and you see something that nearly makes you trip and face plant into Shelly’s fresh perm.

Even Shelly pauses. “Is that who I think it is?”

It’s something about the stupid little sailor’s cap and shorts, and that he’s so, so pretty in it, you think. It’s also something about how you have the perfect vantage point to watch him try and fail to flirt with the girl that approaches the counter to order. You’re enamored with him. There’s no other way to describe it.

You have half a mind to run away, after what you promised yourself on prom night over a month ago. You’d done good, you didn’t search for him in the halls, you ignored him in your last couple of class periods with him. You’d even been in the bathroom when his name was called at graduation.

But, here he is. Steve Harrington, absolutely obliterating his chances of getting a date with the girl ordering a sundae ahead of you.

Honestly, you don’t know what you’re waiting for. Maybe an invitation? A sign from god that today’s the day that you’ll make a move? Or maybe this is just a test of will.

You stop resisting Shelly’s attempts to drag you along, and straighten your spine. You can do this. Four years’ worth of pining won’t make a difference in whether or not you order a strawberry ice cream cone.

He’s even prettier up close, his rosy cheeks framed by sunkissed, wavy hair. When he sees you he stalls, going a bit wide-eyed and then seeming to realize he’s supposed to do his job. He leans heavily against the counter. “Ahoy, ladies! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, Steve Harrington.”

“Uh-huh.” You stare at each other for a long moment. “How much do they pay you to recite that script?”

“Absolutely nothing, I do this for pure enjoyment.” You’re almost sure that he doesn’t. He pauses, a hand poised on his hip. “Too much?”

“I’d dial it back just a smidge. Maybe keep the ahoy and the captain thing and toss the rest.”

“Noted.” He nods slowly, his eyes fixed on you. “I thought you were going to Chicago?”

“I leave the day after tomorrow,” you shrug. “Still time for me to burn the place down, you know.”

“Well, I’m glad you stopped by,” Steve chuckles. “I could show you where the gas line is, then we’d all be in trouble.”

“Oookay.” Shelly gives you a curious side-eye, and then turns back to Steve. “Well, I’ll have a U.S.S. Butterscotch with a chocolate dipped waffle bowl, if you don’t mind.”

Steve tears his eyes away from you long enough to grin at Shelly. “Coming right up. And for you?”

You freeze, glancing up at the menu. It’s written in an infuriatingly cutesy code-language that you have to decipher. “Um. I’m still deciding.”

“All right, then. Just let me know, when you’re ready.”

Steve slips away to make Shelly her sundae, a heaping pile of ice cream and butterscotch syrup that looks like the fast track to a heart attack. You alternate between trying to comprehend the menu and being distracted by Steve in that stupid sailor’s uniform.

The script on the menu may as well be written in a foreign language. Blackbeard’s Delight. Treasure Island Turtle. U.S.S. Sherbet. The sizes are even harder to understand. Fathom. League. Nautical Mile. You don’t have the capacity to decipher it- your eyes are seeing the words, but your mind is traveling back to prom night, and feeling Steve’s finger on your cheek as you gear up to kiss him.

“Are you ready?”

“Mhm…” It takes you a second to zone back into the present moment, where Steve is standing in front of you, on the other side of the counter, waiting to take your order. He waits, with a patient smile on his face, while you blink dumbly at him.

What did you say? What did he say?

“I… um.” You’re sure you look completely out of it. Your eyes flick nervously up at the menu, that you still can’t fucking read. Shelly’s already gone to sit down with her sundae, the traitor.

“It’s kind of hard to understand, isn’t it?” Steve says quietly after a moment, dropping the phony customer service charade. “I hate it. I think we should just be able to say what our favorite ice cream flavor is and be done with it.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still squinting up at the menu. Blackbeard’s Delight: blackberry swirl with blueberry syrup and a gold doubloon. “The fuck is a doubloon?”

Steve snorts, and reaches under the counter before bringing back a handful of gold foil-covered chocolate coins, which he dumps into your outstretched hand. “You want more? We get them wholesale.”

“I’m good,” you giggle, juggling the chocolate coins before they go cascading to the floor. “I think… I don’t… I don’t understand a thing on that menu.”

“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” He leans forward to ask you, like it's a secret. Just between the two of you. His head bent a little to peer at you closely, so close that you can count the freckles on his skin.

You glance over your shoulder. Shelly is seated by the far wall, under a painting of a kraken, giving you an indignant look. When she notices you looking, she mouths an emphatic, ‘LET’S GO!’

“Don’t tell anyone,” you whisper, and Steve affects his gravest expression as he nods. “Strawberry.”

“A classic,” he grins. “Fan of sprinkles?”

“I can dig a few sprinkles.”

“Perfect. I think we have something up your alley.” He grabs a scooper out of the bin and twirls it once, just to show off. “Sex on the Beach.”

“What?” You don’t remember seeing anything about that on the menu.

He glances up to smirk at you before shrugging. “It’s strawberry ice cream with peach syrup. You’ll see.”

You keep an eye on his hands behind the glass partition, watching them put two scoops of strawberry into a medium sized carton. Completely unable to rein in your thoughts before they get away from you, you’re thinking about how good they would feel under your shirt. You follow a treasure map of freckles trailing up his arms, disappearing under the blue sailor’s shirt he wears. You want to kiss every single one of them.

You finally reply, “I guess I have to put my faith in your professional ice cream slinging abilities.”

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Steve mutters sardonically as he squirts peach syrup across the two scoops of ice cream, giving it a golden sheen. “I’m the king of cream.”

You purse your lips as it takes Steve a second to realize what he just said. When he does, he snaps his head up to meet your eye in horror.

He opens his mouth to take it back, but you shake your head, holding back laughter. “Don’t ruin it.”

“I think it’s pretty much ruined already.” He turns crimson, blushing down at the half-made sundae as he rapidly shakes yellow sprinkles onto it. “I was doing so good, too.”

“Who says you aren’t still?” You give him a cute smile when he looks up through his lashes at you, still arranging toppings on the sundae. You’re not sure what happened between prom and now to change him so much, but it’s almost as if he’s… goofy. He’s less concerned with appearances, he’s more laid back and willing to make fun of himself.

You like it a lot.

You watch him plop two maraschinos onto one ice cream mound, and wedge a candied orange slice into the other, inverted, to look like a setting sun. As he passes it over the counter to you, he says, “Here you go, one Sex on the Beach. On the house.”

“What? No, I couldn’t-”

“I mean it. For overlooking my stupidity,” Steve insists. He gives you a meaningful look when he adds, “A million times over.”

“I’m not overlooking anything when it comes to you, Steve,” you tell him fondly, and drop one of the doubloons into the tip jar. It’s gaudy, gleaming artificially gold in the middle of the crumpled up dollar bills. “Hang onto that. You might be able to cash it in for a kiss someday.”

Steve blinks rapidly, leaning across the counter as you walk away. “After you come back from Chicago, right?”

You look over your shoulder, and you wink at him.

When you finally stop in front of Shelly, and you use your plastic spoon to dig into the adorable sundae that Steve crafted for you, you remember that you’d gone up to the counter with every intention of ignoring Steve and acting like you didn’t even know him.

You winked at Steve Harrington. You said you’d kiss him. You think back to the girl who was so afraid of Steve even noticing her, almost a year ago, and wonder where she went.

You look down at Shelly. She’d graduated a year before you, so she wasn’t there to witness every blunderous interaction you’d had with Steve in school. You never told her how in love you were with him.

Now, she looks up at you coyly. “So. Steve Harrington, huh?”

“Shut up,” you grunt, looking up and out at the food court outside of the Scoops Ahoy storefront. “As if you know everything.”

“Are you gonna try to make something out of that…” she gestures vaguely with her spoon toward the counter, “before school starts?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say honestly, still poking at your sundae. “Anyways, I leave too soon for anything to really happen. What- I screw him tomorrow and then fuck off forever? It’s just wishful thinking, probably.” You finally take a bite of the ice cream, just to punctuate your sentence.

“Hm. Probably. How is that?” Shelly nods at the ice cream in your hand. “Looks pretty.”

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re being honest. Something about the peach syrup with the strawberry base literally evokes the flavor of a sunset. “They should give him a raise.”

Humming, Shelly stands and takes her half-eaten sundae. She nudges you in the direction of the door. “C’mon. We’ve gotta eat these before the next showing of The Breakfast Club.”

Steve watches you and your friend leave, with the wistful gaze of someone who just watched their greatest opportunity walk away from them. He never knew that it was possible to hate an entire geographic location, but he really wishes Chicago would get blown off the map in the next 24 hours.

The wooden partition doors slam open, and Robin’s head appears in the window to the kitchen. “The cream king? Do you want me to actually hurl?”

“I said, ‘the king of cream,’” he groans, digging his knuckles into his eye sockets. “Kill me, Robin. Load me into the freezer. Bury me at the fairground.”

“You think you’re valuable enough to displace that much ice cream?” Robin rolls her eyes, and with another loud thwack, her white board appears in the space behind her. “We don’t make anything called Sex on the Beach. This is a family establishment.”

“I made it up.”

Robin coos, “Aww. Be still my heart. You love her to the point of invention.”

Steve whirls around. “Love? Who said anything about love?”

“I did.” Robin uncaps her dry-erase marker and draws a tally mark under the side that reads, you rule.

“Uh, Robin,” Steve snaps, pointing at the board condescendingly. “I think you put that on the wrong side. I fucked it up.”

“Dingus. Please. As much as it makes me gag- and you know I gain immense pleasure from counting how often you screw up- I could practically hear her heart eyes.” She sets the white board down, begrudgingly. “I think you found the only girl alive who’ll find all this-” she waves her hand at him, “endearing. Who was she? Some ex of yours?”

“If only,” Steve sighs, shaking his head. When he turns back to the counter, his eyes land on the single chocolate coin glinting in the tip jar.

He scoops it up with two fingers and pockets it.

You won’t believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait ‘til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet…

Family Video, March 1986

The air conditioning nearly blasts you backwards into the parking lot. You don’t know why they need it blasting so hard at 7pm, in the middle of March. It’s not like it’s the height of summer- your spring break takes place earlier than the local school’s, but it just means that you get to beat the crowds when you come home to visit your family.

Of course, they love to send you to run errands. You end up picking up the groceries, and the housewares, and, on this occasion, the choices for family movie night.

This Family Video’s selection isn’t necessarily as extensive as the ones in Chicago, but it’s good enough. You enter the store, and it dumps you directly in front of a cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates about to flash you. Family friendly entertainment, and all.

The TV in the corner is running the final scene of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly- Ennio Morricone’s score plays dramatically into the empty store. There’s no one behind the counter currently, so you pull the list of videos your extended family members had all requested. The Breakfast Club. Camelot. The Birds. Pretty general selections for your family, but it seems like you’ll have to hunt them up on your own.

You’re wandering down the romance aisle, since The Breakfast Club was nowhere on the new releases or comedy shelves, when someone finally emerges from the back room. You see a flash of a head moving toward the front counter from over the top of a rack, and you take it as your chance to ask for help.

“Excuse me? Do you guys have any copies of The Breakfast Club, or-”

You stop short, choking on your words. Steve Harrington turns around to look at you, carrying a stack of VHS tapes perched under his chin, and holding a folded up piece of paper between his teeth.

You stare each other down for a second, before Steve gracefully spits the paper over his shoulder and onto the counter. “Hey, um… long time, no see?”

“I’d say.” You tilt your head. Funny how quickly your eyes will hone in on his lips, like searching for a target every time. “We always seem to run into each other like this. What happened to the ice cream gig?”

“Starcourt burned down,” Steve says, plopping the stack of VHS tapes down on the counter beside the paper he spit out. “Right around the Fourth of July, last summer.”

“So, right after I last saw you?”

Steve smirks to himself before he turns back to you. “Yeah. Like, a week or so after. Did you manage to burn the place down, after all?”

“I wish.”

You pause, taking the time to size him up. It’s amazing what the better part of a year will do to someone, inside and out. With a striped shirt and green vest, he looks much more relaxed and casual than he had at Scoops Ahoy. His hair’s a little longer, his eyes a little darker as they rake over you, in return.

You’re a little bit desperate to see what’s going on in his head, if it’s anything like what’s happening in yours.

You wish you could say that you tried to seek him out when you got back to town- a year ago, maybe you would have. But you’d pretty much given up on the idea of him, moving up to dating college boys who don’t string you along, who don’t wait until the last minute to finally try their hand at flirting with you. If he ever passed through your mind, it was with the attached hope that he’d found greener pastures than Hawkins, Indiana. Foolishly, you hoped that as long as you told yourself that he’d moved on, it would be true. And then maybe what could have been wouldn’t matter anymore.

You’d stepped back into Hawkins after half a year of college, the graveyard of all hope in your happily ever after, and you hadn’t even thought of Steve Harrington. Except, seeing him now, everything comes flooding back. All the days spent pining over him. All the close brushes you’d had with finally getting the ending you wanted.

You have to be honest. “You look good, Steve. You always do.”

Steve chuckles, tilting his chin down as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his light wash jeans. “Better without the sailor costume, right?”

“Aww, I liked the sailor costume.” You step closer so you can whisper, “I thought it was sexy.”

Steve peers down his nose at you, drawing himself up to tower above you at his full height. He tries to look unaffected, but you can see his ears glowing pink beneath wisps of golden highlights. “Watch it. You’re gonna give me an ego.”

“We don’t want that, do we?” You unfold the list of movies you’re here to collect, holding it up to him between two fingers. “Got any of these movies?”

Steve reads the short list, and nods to himself. “I know we have Camelot, but I’m not sure about The Breakfast Club. Let me check in the back?”

“I’ll be here.”

“All right- don’t get up to any trouble, though. I’ve got my eye on you.” He points at you coolly, feigning an authoritative expression. He tries to hide his smile, but the creases around his eyes give him away.

“I hope you do.” You try to appear casual as you breeze past him, but you have to fiddle with your jacket collar to hide their shaking. Still, you feel the sweep of his gaze on you like rays of sun on your skin. It frightens you how easily you can fall back into the old back-and-forth routine you established in high school- how he gets you to say things you never meant to voice, but that live in your head effortlessly.

Steve watches you disappear down the drama aisle before he takes in a huge breath of air and bolts toward the back room. Any and all coolness he was performing disappears like so much smoke. Slamming open the door, he nearly shouts, “Do you have a doubloon?!”

Robin startles, swinging around in her seat, looking away from her computer screen. “A what? Why are you yelling?”

“A doubloon, a f-fucking-” Steve looks quickly over his shoulder, out the door, and starts hunching over as he whispers, “a chocolate coin. Like one of those ones we had at Scoops, remember?”

“Why do you want a chocolate coin?” Robin squints at him. “Stop crouching like that, you look like Nosferatu.”

Steve hisses through his teeth, and he’s got a frantic edge to his expression that Robin doesn’t like. “Okay- remember that girl, the one who showed up at Scoops that time, and you gave me my one and only ‘You Rule’ tally?”

“No.”

“Great. Well, she’s here, and she told me if I gave her one of those chocolate coins she’d kiss me.” Steve shoves his hands through his hair, mussing up the already disheveled style. “Please, Rob, I can’t let her get away again. I’ve done it, like, a thousand times already.”

“Okay, Romeo,” Robin humors him, turning around in her seat. “So you’re saying this babe, who I very much don’t remember because you always struck out while we worked at Scoops, told you that if you bribed her with chocolate she’d kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t think she was maybe joking?”

Steve opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. Truthfully, he hadn’t. He’d overlooked the idea that, after everything that had happened between you, you might just be joking about kissing him.

“You know you could use your actual charm to get a girl to kiss you?” Robin dips her chin, shaking her head like it’s obvious.

Steve frowns. As if he hasn’t already tried that. “Do you have any chocolate coins or not?”

Robin sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of those things since we worked at Scoops. Sorry, bud. You’re out of luck.”

“FUCK!” Steve’s hand smacks the door as he heads out of the back room, making Robin scowl after him. She shakes her head as she turns back to her work.

Back out on the sales floor, the credits to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly have finished, and white noise fills the empty space. Steve turns in a circle by the checkout counter, searching for you among the aisles.

Where did you disappear to, this time? A part of him dreads the answer. He was the one who fucked everything up- he shouldn’t have chickened out when he had the chance. He should have asked you to that fucking prom, but he was too scared to commit after what happened with Nancy.

If this is his last chance, he needs to make it count.

He coughs into the dead air, and says, “Looks like we’re all out of The Breakfast Club.” There’s a disconcerting amount of silence that leaves him cold, almost certain that you’ve left already, for the last time.

Then, you appear from behind the red curtain to the adult videos section.

Oh.

“Everything okay?” you ask sweetly as you approach, holding a couple tapes that you must have picked up while you shopped around. “I heard some yelling back there.”

“Oh, yeah. Just, uh… shelving issues.” Steve backs his way behind the counter. He repeats, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the movie for you.”

“I heard. I’m not worried about it.” You plop the tapes that you did find on the counter. “It was nice of you to look for me. Thanks, Steve.”

“Always.” Steve starts scanning your tapes; it looks like you managed to find the other films on your list, along with one for yourself. From the adult section.

You watch in amusement as you can see the cogs visibly turning in Steve’s head, while he stares at the front of the porn video you picked. Spring Break Sex Party II. Not that you’d ever seen the first one, but the cover of this one was suggestive enough- a bunch of drunk people naked on a beach, lying in a great big pile. Looks like fun, in your opinion.

You always love seeing Steve blush. The prettiest shade of pink colors his cheeks before he glances up at you. “Should I ask…?”

“It’s the closest thing to getting a Sex on the Beach, here.”

Steve chokes, and he scrambles for a response to that. “I- I was gonna ask for an I.D.”

“You know we’re the same age,” you deadpan.

“Y-yeah. I, uh- I know… I know that.” He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut.

You wonder if this is what you looked like to him, that time in the hallway when he loitered by the fountain to talk to you. “Breathe, Steve.”

A blast of laughter leaves his mouth before he can swallow it. If only you knew how hard it actually is, to act like he’s not just fucking melting right in front of you. When he hangs on every word you say, and every other thought he has is about how badly he wants to tell Robin to get lost and take you in the back room. You don’t know how much he’s fixating on your curves and how they’d feel against him, how much he wants to taste every inch of your body. He’s practically vibrating in place with all his pent up frustration, and you’re here buying porn, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Steve clears his throat, shakes his head. Christ. “Okay, well. You know that this is a sale item, it’s not for rent. You can return it within 10 days as long as the packaging hasn’t been opened.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” He’s still nodding as he puts it into the bag with the rest of your rentals.

“Are you always this affected by people buying from the adult section?” you ask mildly.

“Nah, usually I don’t care,” he replies without thinking.

“Good to know that you care about my taste in pornography,” you tell him with the most shit eating grin on your face, taking the bag from him. “I’m flattered.”

He makes a clumsy noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. He’s right back to working at Scoops Ahoy, fumbling every attempt at flirting, losing his cool at the sight of a pretty girl. It’s… humbling.

He’s sure Robin would say that he can always use more humility.

“It was good to see you again, Steve.” And just like that, you’re sand slipping through the cracks in his fingers.

Desperately, he tries to block the flow, closing his fingers around you in an attempt to keep you in his grasp. “Do you- uh-” He lurches forward, white-knuckling the counter like his life depends on it. You turn back towards him, an eyebrow raised at his sudden outburst.

You’re back in the school hallway, senior year. Crying over Logan Sawyer. Harrington is up against the wall by the drinking fountain. You want him to just say the words and ask you to prom.

“I mean… if you have the time, while you’re in town… do you want to go for a cup of coffee? With me?”

“Oh, Steve.” You sigh, and it’s the most heartbreaking noise he’s ever heard in his life. Soft sand, falling through his fingers, disappearing back the way you came. He already dreads your answer before it comes. “I wish… you know, if I had come in here and met you about a week ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. But I have to catch the train back to Chicago tomorrow. My break’s almost up.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad that you didn’t completely miss me, at least.”

“Right, of course.” Steve smiles back at you, feeling more like an idiot the longer this drags on. He’s like Sisyphus rolling that rock up the fucking hill. “I… I’m glad I got to see you, too. Maybe next time.”

Oh, it hurts. It hurts way more than you thought it would, to have to turn Steve down- after all the years pining for him through high school, after the time you turned him away when he would have kissed you. You think about kissing him, now. He would let you do it- he’s asking you out, and he looks so sad that you’re saying no.

You could. But wouldn’t it make saying goodbye this time even harder than it already is?

“Yeah. Maybe next time,” you tell him. You don’t want this to hurt more than it does. You truly hope there’s a next time, another year down the line when you run into him over winter break. Maybe you’ll find him at the Radio Shack.

Steve watches you leave, once again. Fumbling his chance, again. When the door swings shut behind you, Steve bends at the waist and drops his head against the countertop.

Typical Harrington. Late to the party, miss the girl.

“Well. That was… really painful to listen to.” Robin emerges from behind one of the shelves, crossing her arms. Gently, she adds, “On the bright side, I don’t think the chocolate coin would have mattered.”

Steve picks his head up, and he thwacks his forehead back down onto the counter.

And again.

And I can see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission. Hide away, and I will start behaving myself…

Sur La Table Restaurant, Chicago, April 1991

You shake your umbrella out as you step into the warm foyer of, quite possibly, the most upscale restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. The carpet is deep, blood red, the walls a dark chestnut wood. The white covered tables are each spotlit within the otherwise dark dining room, and the atmosphere is flavored by soft piano and the quiet din of hushed voices.

You had been hesitant to accept Theo’s invitation to dinner- he seemed too stuck up for your taste, but when Shelly introduced you to him, you had to admit that the name of the restaurant piqued your interest. Sur La Table. Chicago’s premiere Michelin Star restaurant.

As you hand your umbrella over to the coat check clerk, you’re greeted by a smiling hostess. “What’s the name for the reservation?”

“Um… Theo Bowman. I believe he’s already here?”

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.”

Theo stands as you’re shown to the table. Tall, with dark hair and a wide smile, he reminds you of someone you knew once, but you just can’t seem to place it. Then, when he towers over you to shake your hand, standing far closer than necessary, you’re able to pick it out from the recesses of your mind.

Logan Sawyer.

“You look nice,” Theo says pleasantly, and you chalk up your initial comparison to nerves, on your part. You don’t often let friends set you up on dates, so you’re a little bit out of your element as it is.

As you go to sit down, you admit, “I was so glad when you picked this place, I’ve always wanted to eat here, since I moved to Chicago.”

“It’s not the nicest place I’ve been,” Theo shrugs, taking the seat across from you.

Your smile falters, for a second. “Oh, no?” The water has already been brought to the table, you guess while he was waiting for you. You take a long drink.

“Nah, I’ve been to Le Bernardin, in New York. That’s fine dining.” Theo waves his hand at the upscale dining room. “This is… okay.”

“I see.” You lift your menu, hoping that he’ll do the same.

“Yeah, New York is so much nicer than Chicago, in my opinion,” Theo continues, fiddling with his napkin as he talks. “There’s a lot more to do. Have you ever been?”

You hope this is just his nerves talking. “No.”

Theo keeps talking as you stare at the menu in front of you, at a loss. It’s an a la carte menu, clearly, but extensive and all in french. Salade de poires pochées. Coquilles Saint-Jacques Gratineés. Filet au poivre vert. You’re scrutinizing the fine print of what all the dishes include when your waiter steps up to the table. You know when it happens, because Theo finally stops blathering about New York.

You break your eyes away from the menu to glance at the server’s waistline, at eye level with you. He wears a crisply pressed suit and tie, his hands clasped in front of his belt.

“Good evening sir, ma’am,” the server says in a hushed tone, to keep the volume of the dining room down. “Welcome to Sur La Table. I’m Steven, I’ll be serving you this evening. Before we begin, are there any questions about the menu?”

You peer up into the darkness to try to see Steven’s face. He’s standing just outside of the spotlight over the table, only able to be dimly lit from the indirect light reflecting from the tablecloth. Once your eyes adjust, they lock onto a pair of familiar hazel ones.

Oh my fucking god.

It’s got to be fate, or kismet, or some force of nature that keeps bringing you together like this. Steve Harrington’s face hasn’t changed in five years. Maybe he looks just slightly older, a little more filled out in his suit and tie. His hair is a bit shorter at the back but still that same shade of golden brown, neatly groomed and tidy for the formal atmosphere- but you can see it being tousled on his off days, still flopping across his eyes in waves. And those are the same lips you dreamt about kissing, the same eyes you admired in the school hallway, the same nose that you always wanted to grind o-

“No, I think we’re ready to order,” Theo announces, louder than necessary. You throw your gaze at him, your eyebrows raising despite your best efforts to remain calm.

Is he really going to order for you? Just like that?

“Well, I was going to ask-” you begin, wanting to get a little more specification on how the filet is made, when Theo cuts you off.

“It’s okay, I speak French,” he insists. Not that it makes a difference to what your question was.

You press your lips together in irritation and glance at Steve, who looks back at you stoically. You wonder if he recognizes you like you do him- it’s been long enough, and you’re sure that you look a bit different than you did the last time you saw him. And then you notice the creases around his eyes.

He’s playing it off well enough, sure. But Steve is doing that same look that he did there in the Family Video five years ago, trying to pretend that he’s not affected by you, swallowing back his smile. He sends you a knowing look that says, What a fucking douchebag, am I right?

Suddenly, this date just got way more entertaining. You give Steve a minute roll of your eyes, only enough for him to notice. Tell me about it.

“We’ll start with the Bordeaux,” Theo is already reciting to Steve as you settle back in your seat. Steve pulls a little notepad out of his jacket pocket and begins writing. “For an appetizer, the coquilles. Then for the main, I’ll have the canard montmorency, and she’ll have the mignons de veau.”

You watch Steve’s hand pause as he’s writing, and he looks to you. He raises his eyebrow, saying everything he needs to with the one gesture. Is that what you really want? “The veal?”

“No,” you say, digging your thumbnail into your palm, where it rests on your lap. “Actually, I wanted to ask about the filet. What brandy is the sauce made with?”

Steve smiles, leaning a little bit closer to you. “We use Courvoisier.”

“Great. I’ll have that, please.”

Steve nods encouragingly at you. As he jots down the order, he says, “Wonderful. I’ll get this to the kitchen for you, but before I can bring you the wine, I’ll just need to see the lady’s I.D.”

“Are you serious?” Theo snaps.

“It’s all right,” you murmur, hiding your face as you dip your head to fish your I.D. out of your clutch. “He’s just doing his job. Right, Steven?”

Steve meets your eye as he takes the card from your hand. “You can never be too careful.” You watch him smirk as he looks over your I.D., his eyes lingering on your name for a second before he hands it back to you. If there was any doubt in his mind that you are who he thought, it’s gone now. “Interesting. We’re the same age.”

You laugh. Probably a little louder than is respectable, but you can’t help it. Leave it to Steve Harrington to remind you of the time you bought porn from him, while you’re on a date.

You watch Steve write something else on his notepad, and rip the page out before folding it up. He tucks his notepad into his pocket as he says, “I’ll get this started for you. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Steven,” you offer just as he starts to walk away.

Steve shoots you a sideways glance. “Always.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your chest as you turn back to your date. Theo looks disgruntled, but he just lifts his water to his lips.

“So,” you begin, “what do you do?”

“Marketing manager,” Theo says, with a click of his tongue. “For Bowman Wine & Spirits.”

“Oh,” you nod. “No relation, I suppose?”

“My father owns the company.”

“Right.” God, help me.

Across the dining room, Steve watches you over his shoulder. His jaw sets as he sees you, the girl of his literal dreams, sitting across from some idiot who doesn’t even know that you don’t order for your date without asking her what she wants first, you fucking weasel.

That’s all right. You seem to have the situation under control, for now. Steve watches you calmly sip your water, staring at your date but not listening to a thing he’s saying.

Steve sighs. He’s never been much of a schemer, but he’ll just make sure that you won’t leave with this guy if you don’t want to.

His fingers brush the note in his pocket, and he pinches it just as he passes the front of house manager, Taryn. Without breaking stride, he slips the note into her hand, heading toward the back hallway and down to the wine cellar.

As Steve passes by, Taryn unfolds the note he slips her, and raises one eyebrow at the request he’s written.

I can see you in your suit and your necktie, pass me a note saying, “Meet me tonight.” Then we kissed and you know I won’t ever tell…

Overall, you enjoy Sur La Table immensely. The restaurant itself, anyways. The wine is wonderful. The atmosphere is great. The food is exquisite.

You’re about to jump the waiter’s bones.

Theo got his second wind sometime after the scallops arrived, and you think he hasn’t paused for breath since. You’ve been calmly eating your food, while Theo tells you literally everything about himself. It’s the best case scenario you can see happening on this date. You enjoy the food, mumble a non-committal acknowledgement now and then, and Theo entertains himself with his own voice the rest of the time.

You’re gonna kill Shelly for setting you up with him, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.

Right now, you’re focused on finishing your glass of wine while he talks about camping, of all things.

“So we got up into the Rockies,” he’s telling you, gesturing with his hands like it’ll make you more engaged. “We ended up freezing our keisters off. No joke, I have frostbite scars.”

“That’s, um… that sounds like fun.”

“No, are you listening? I mean, it was terrible. We couldn’t move for, like, two days. And when the snow stopped we were so tired and cold, we almost died.”

You knock back the rest of your wine with one gulp, and say with a sticky voice, “Wow. A near death experience must have been really scary, I’m sorry.”

Theo frowns. “No- I mean… It wasn’t… it wasn’t near death-”

“You just said-”

“It was more like a serious inconvenience, you know. But we pulled through. I wasn’t scared. A little snow isn’t gonna kill me,” he laughs incredulously. “It was just-”

Theo stops as Steve approaches the table. You catch him giving the back of Theo’s head the most murderous look imaginable before slowing to a stop and plastering an easy customer service smile in its place. “How did you find everything this evening?”

“It was fine.”

“The food was wonderful,” you tell Steve reassuringly. Your date, on the other hand…

“Yeeeah, could we get the check, please?” Theo asks, finally looking up at Steve.

You watch Steve’s brow twitch, such a small movement you could have imagined it. “Certainly. But first-” from behind his back, he reveals two white gift boxes and places them on the table in front of you and your date, respectively. “We like to give each of our customers a signature chocolate truffle, as a token of our appreciation.”

Everything in you aches. “Oh, that’s nice. Thank you so much.” You look down at the box in adoration, thinking for a second that it might be the only time in your life that Steve Harrington gives you something similar to a ring box.

“I’ll be sure to have our hostess come through with the check,” Steve adds delicately, making a gracious exit. His finger just slightly brushes your arm as he passes by- a dangerous move, but one that nearly electrifies your entire body at the single touch. You shiver as he says, “Have a lovely night.”

You watch Steve walk away from you, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You want to chase after him. The 18 year old you, who almost kissed him on prom night, is trying to claw its way out of your skin and bolt after him.

When Steve disappears from view, you have nowhere to look but at your date. Theo opens the white box in front of him and pops a neapolitan colored truffle into his mouth. “Well, that was underwhelming.”

You don’t want to watch him chewing anymore, like a cow gnawing on grass. You sigh, running a frustrated hand across your forehead, and flip open the box in front of you. The top of it rears up like a clam shell, and you freeze, your fingertips suddenly sticking to the sweat beading on your brow.

You don’t have a neapolitan truffle- you have a single golden chocolate coin. You stare at it in shock for a second before you even notice the note pasted to the lid of the box.

Meet me outside- the door past the bathrooms.

“Aren’t you gonna eat yours?” Theo asks suddenly, as the hostess approaches holding the check.

Your eyes snap up just as your heart shoots back up into your chest. “I think I’m gonna save it for later.” You flash him a smile as you close the box swiftly and shove it into your clutch. “Do you mind if I hit the bathroom real quick?”

“No, go ahead. I’ve got it.” Honestly, it’s the kindest thing he’s done for you all night. You might have to thank him some day.

Once you’re out of your seat, you chase after Steve like a shot. Around a block of tables and into a tiled corridor, you walk past the kitchen doorway just as another server comes backing out, carrying a tray of dishes.

There’s a door at the end of the hall, labeled exit. You never actually thought you’d be escaping a bad date through the back door; the notion was too clichéed, you thought that sort of thing only happened in movies. But you find yourself nearly running past the men’s and women’s bathrooms, until your hands slam down on the bar of the back door and thrust it open into the wind.

The rain has picked up, more of a downpour than a light drizzle now. In your haste, you’d left your umbrella and coat with the coat check. Not that it would have been at all discrete if you’d gone to collect it before running towards the bathrooms.

The door clicks shut behind you, and you gaze around in the dark. The alley behind the restaurant is only partially lit by a yellow street lamp, making it even more difficult to find him than it was in the dining room. “Steve?”

You catch movement in the corner of your eye, and turn in the direction of the street lamp. Steve stands up from where he’d been sitting on an overturned crate- apparently the only accommodations the restaurant staff gets during a smoke break. The rain has already soaked into his hair, messing up the tidy style and turning it stringy, falling across his forehead, shining gold in the yellow light. He takes one last puff of the cigarette in his mouth before tossing it into the gutter, and he looks at you.

He sees you. And it’s all you’ve wanted since the day he first walked into your geography class, freshman year of high school. There’s been some kind of a magnetic pull between you two for years. Something keeps bringing you together, it’s just never been the right time. Until now.

Finally, you’re running towards him, and Steve’s arms finally come around you, pulling you against his body. Your hands find the back of his neck just in time for his lips to crash against yours.

You had lost count of the amount of times you watched him kiss other girls in the hallway in high school- not just Nancy, but any and every girl he attached himself to (for a while, it seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind who he was dating at any given moment). All you knew was that it was never you, and you wanted it to be so desperately that it consumed your mind half the time. He looked like a good kisser, and you fantasized about going up to him and testing that theory for yourself.

But you never expected that his lips would slide over yours with an urgency that you could feel through to your very core, probably even more desperate for your kiss than you are for his. Steve’s fingertips press into your body through the thin fabric of your dress, holding you firmly to him like he’s afraid you might disappear on him again if he doesn’t absorb you completely. Your mouth opens with a soft gasp, and Steve’s tongue against yours tastes like tobacco.

It happens so fast that you can’t even think- and you don’t really want to. You’re tired of thinking everything through, finding reasons upon reasons why it’s not a good time, why it’s a bad idea, why it won’t work. He moans into you, grabbing the side of your face as he stumbles with you to the wall, pressing you up against the side of the brick building.

You meet his moan with a whimper of your own as his hand slides down over the curve of your ass, and he hikes up the skirt of your dress to grab at your skin with abandon. There’s a ferocity in Steve’s kiss that you don’t know what to do with, like he’s trying to stake a claim to you right there in the rain, with no one around to see it happen but the moths in the street light overhead. Not that he needs to- he’s already got you. You already chose him.

Steve gives you room to breathe with a soft sigh, his forehead resting against yours. “Been wanting to do that since high school,” he admits, just loud enough for you to hear, before pressing a featherlight kiss just beside your mouth, and again to your cheek.

“Y-you fffucking-?” you gasp when he latches his lips around a sweet spot on your neck and sucks. “I had such a huge crush on you, Steve.”

“I know. I- I should have- I should…” Steve drops his head against your shoulder and groans when your nails rake against his scalp. “Fuck.”

He grinds his hips up against yours, biting your lip as the hard length of his cock presses up against your core. “Gonna fuck me in this alleyway, Harrington?”

“I’m seriously considering it,” he growls into your ear. His lips find yours again with a passion, his hand holding your jaw still. A hot breath escapes him, pouring over your skin and making you shiver. You’re lightheaded, so close to just letting him do it, too, when the back door of the restaurant swings open.

Steve still takes a second to pull away, a little too absorbed in kissing you to really care who sees him do it. If he had his way, he’d have everyone see that you’re his- that you belong with him, and have for a long time. He finally glances over his shoulder to see one of the cooks, Liam, walking off in the direction of the employee parking lot.

“Where did you get the fucking doubloon?” you whisper into his ear, sounding so fucking adorable that Steve can’t help the lovesick look he gives you.

He brushes his nose against yours. “I sent my manager on a treasure hunt.” You giggle, pressing your forehead up against his, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you. “I wanted to give you one at Family Video, that time.”

“I know,” you say, and he pulls back to look at your face. “I heard you yelling at your coworker in the back room.”

Steve snickers and turns red with embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his rain-soaked hair, a content smile on your face as you feel him grin against your skin and shake with laughter. “Take me home, Steve.”

You don’t have to ask him twice.

What would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you make me want you even more…

The drive to Steve’s apartment downtown is made with light conversation and the heavy, heavy weight of his hand on your thigh, creeping up further with each mile. But aside from the implication of sex hanging in the air, it’s as easy as breathing, chatting about the night with him. Shitting on Theo.

“Did you notice the way he said coquilles,” Steve murmurs to you at a red light. “I thought he was gagging on something. He was just trying to impress you, you know.”

You grunt. Could’ve tried a little harder. “He didn’t even like them. He said he didn’t like shellfish,” you laugh in return as you lace your fingers through Steve’s. “Why the fuck would you order scallops, then?”

“The price.”

It’s sweet, talking to him all the way to his apartment building, just catching up like old friends. He tells you that he’s going to culinary school now, and he’s been working at the restaurant for a little over a year, just to pay the bills.

“Culinary school? Really?” you say, with a note of awe in your voice.

“Turns out I’m really fucking good at cooking,” Steve chuckles. “Who’d have thought? Maybe someday I’ll stop waiting tables and work back there in the kitchen.”

“I can see it,” you tell him softly. “I can see you being the world’s best chef. Three stars and everything.”

He scoffs, but a pink blush creeps up the back of his neck. “You have too much faith in me.”

“Those are fighting words, Harrington.” You wag your finger at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“You just want me to cook you something,” Steve tuts.

“Absolutely, I do.” You consider him for a moment, in the passing light of a streetlamp. “Am I that transparent?”

Steve tilts his head to eye you meaningfully, and he smirks. “Always have been, honey.” His thumb rubs a little circle on your thigh that has you squirming in your seat.

The first thing you see of Steve’s apartment is the kitchen, and beyond that the dormant living room, but you don’t get that far before you’re sidetracked. Steve throws his keys onto a drop station by the door, and pins you up against the refrigerator before you can even think to ask where to put your shoes.

Your clothes are still damp, your hair still pasted to your clammy skin. Steve’s lips are attacking yours and his hands are grabbing at everything he can touch, but it’s still not enough. He’s not able to feel all of you at once, and it’s driving him insane with every passing moment.

Steve roughly yanks his suit jacket off, throwing it onto the tile floor beside the kitchen island. “Lay down.”

“What?” you whisper to him as he kisses your neck, guiding you away from the side of the fridge. “Here?”

“Right here,” Steve states, not joking in the slightest. You wobble on your feet as you kick off your heels, but his hands on your hips keep you steady. “Been waiting too long for this- can’t wait anymore.”

“I- wwhuh-?” you gasp as Steve kneels in front of you, and your knees buckle involuntarily as he lays you down across his discarded jacket. Your hands grab his shoulders as you tumble backward, taking him with you.

He face-plants into your stomach with a noisy, “Oof.” Cackling, you run your fingers through his damp hair, as he laughs and shoves his blushing face further against your torso. Steve litters your stomach with kisses, giggling against you with a note of nervous energy. He’s adorable.

You pet your fingers down the side of his face and he leans into the touch. “Can’t even wait long enough to take me to the bedroom?”

“Well, I would have fucked you in the alley,” Steve points out as his fingers breach the hem of your skirt and find your panties. He tugs as he says, “Be thankful I even got you home.”

Your cheeks burn hot. You fidget, trying to press your thighs together to abate the throbbing ache between them. “Careful, baby. You’re starting to sound desperate.”

Steve pauses, his hazel eyes lighting up when they lock on yours. “Call me that again,” he requests, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he pulls your panties off your feet. He tosses them over his shoulder, but you don’t see where they land as he continues peppering kisses down your calf.

You hold his gaze. “Baby?” His eyes flutter, his lips parting as they drag up toward your knee. “You like when I call you that?”

“I like when you call me anything,” Steve admits. “But as long as you call me that, it means I’m yours.”

Your breath stutters in your chest. Steve Harrington is yours. It doesn’t matter if it’s just for tonight- what matters is that you have him now, and he wants you just as badly.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he murmurs quietly against your skin, his voice crackling with brimming need. He’s flushed, his cheeks pink and his hair drying in tousled waves over his forehead the longer he drags this out.

Nodding your head, you reach down to lace your fingers through his, where they’re bunching your skirt up around your hips. “Yes, Steve.” Always have been.

He turns his head and sucks a spot on your calf, just below your knee, resting your ankle over his shoulder. Still, despite your desperation, you nervously keep your thighs pinched together.

Steve tuts, “C’mon, baby, you’ve gotta spread your legs for me. You wanna let me see that pretty pussy, right?”

Still clammy and cold with rain, the air on your exposed skin makes you shiver almost as much as his sweeping hands do when they gently part your thighs. You let go, let him take control as you still and keep your eyes focused on his face, because looking anywhere else would remind you that this is real, and not a dream.

Steve sighs, “There she is. Y’gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” He bats his pretty eyes at you in a way that makes your heart stop dead in your chest. He can’t keep his mouth off of you, even for a moment, his lips and slight stubble dragging across your skin as he says, “Been wanting to forever, you won’t even believe-”

“Please, Steve,” you start to beg before he even finishes his sentence. “Please, my god, I- I just- I just want you so much-”

“Sh-sh-sh-shh.” His tongue licks wet and hot against your inner thigh before he whispers, “I’ve got you, baby. M’not going anywhere, I’m staying right here ‘til you cum.”

You’re instantly hot all over, your blood fucking boiling beneath your skin and your wet dinner dress. Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he yanks you toward his face, the fabric of his jacket beneath you audibly zipping along the kitchen floor.

Steve dips his head, and his mouth closes over your cunt right at the same moment that yours falls open with a moan that won’t come out, because you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. The noise stalls right at the beginning- your lungs stop working and you can’t seem to get them to start again, because Steve’s tongue is everywhere, dripping wet and gentle on skin that’s way too sensitive to handle it right now. Your hips try to jerk away from him in resistance, but he slams his hand down on them, holding you hard and still against the tile floor, his shoulders pushed up against the backs of your thighs to keep them open.

Steve takes a break just long enough to grin evilly up at you, because he’s been waiting for five years to tell you to, “Breathe, sweetheart.”

“Fffffuck,” you manage to spit out finally, your voice cracking on the word like it didn’t even really want to put in the work to make it happen. Your breath comes back into your lungs all at once, rapid firing with a dozen moans for punctuation. Steve’s lips quirk against you, and he rumbles a noise of satisfaction against your pussy that makes you jolt in his hold again. “Steve…”

He pulls off of you with a slow, slow stroke of his tongue over your clit, making you whimper high and tight in your throat. “That’s it, baby,” Steve whispers, his breath fanning across your slick cunt, his left hand leaving your hip so that he can drag his knuckles teasingly through your swollen folds. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so right.”

Two long fingers sink into you with ease, stirring the need in you to have him just simply destroy you. You moan loud, your hand shooting out and wrapping around the leg of a bar stool for the kitchen island beside you.

“Poor thing’s just so sensitive, huh?” Your head arches backwards against the floor, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as he curves them with practiced accuracy. Steve’s voice is a deep murmur, distant thunder rolling over your nerves, “Relax for me, honey. You’ve waited long enough, just let it happen. Let me give you what you want.”

His lips shine when you look down at him, your hand reaching to run through his hair. Stifling a whine that threatens to come out when he kisses your clit and bends his fingers within you, you stutter out, “J-just want… I- ha-ah! Just want you.”

Steve purrs. “I know.” The crisp white fabric of his shirt scrapes against your thighs, almost rough in comparison to his tongue flat on your pussy. You can hear the wet, salacious sound of his fingers pumping into you, pulling you toward the edge of oblivion. He hisses through his teeth, shaking his head slightly. “God, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Y-you-?” you manage a laugh, scraping your nails along his scalp lightly. “You’re lucky? You have n-no… fffucking idea-” You cut off with a sob when Steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking long and hard enough that your leg twitches, your heel dragging up the back of his pristine white blouse. Your breathing picks up just as all your muscles lock down tight. “Jesus Christ-”

“There you go,” Steve praises as your orgasm shakes your body, your hand gripping his hair so hard that he groans softly into your damp skin. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, lewd wet noises picking up and echoing through the quiet kitchen. “That’s a good girl. Mmm , felt so nice to let go, didn’t it?”

You don’t know if he really wants you to answer that- you’re still twitching, coming down from your high as he pulls his fingers from your spasming cunt and sucks them into his mouth. The pause gives you a gentle reprieve, sinking back onto his suit jacket beneath you. Then, his mouth finds your pussy again, his tongue delving deep into your entrance and laving up to your sensitive clit.

You gasp, throwing your hands down into his hair. “Steve-?!”

He moans in response. “Just needed to taste you some more, honey. Taste so fuckin’ sweet, I can’t get enough.” Steve relents, crawling up your body to hover his face over yours. “Still wanna see the bedroom?”

You nod excitedly, your hands finding his smiling face and stroking the hair away from his eyes. With a gentle kiss of his wet lips to yours, Steve gathers your still-wrecked body into his arms and carries you into his bedroom.

He’s struck by how blissful you are as he sets you down on his bed, so soft and inviting. He encourages your arms up, his hands finding the zipper of your wet dress and finally, finally, pulling it over your head so that he can see you. All your curves and edges on display for him, after all this time imagining what he couldn’t see with the naked eye.

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve repeats what he told you all those years ago at prom- he meant it then, and he means it now. Maybe even more this time, now that he’s not a stupid teenager, now that he finally has his head on his shoulders.

You shiver against him when he unclips your bra- black lace that matches the underwear sitting in his entryway. A possessive part of him rears up, knowing that you’d worn them to a date with some asshole who couldn’t treat you right, even for one hour of the guy’s miserable life. Steve dips his head and kisses your breast, so much softer now than he was before, feeling your heartbeat against his lips.

“Hey.” You gently tug him by his tie, loosening it and his collar. You look into his eyes, and his heart melts. “Where’d you go just now, sailor?”

Steve blushes, his eyes flicking down as you remove his tie and start unbuttoning his blouse. “Just thinking...” he trails off, eyeing you thoughtfully. “Just thinking I could have missed you again if I wasn’t careful.”

“Mmm,” you hum, your hands smoothing up his chest and over his shoulders to get his shirt off of him. It drops to the floor with a whisper. “I don’t think so. I think this was meant to happen, eventually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You scrunch your nose cutely, in a way that makes Steve’s pants tighten even more uncomfortably across his hips. “We’ve run into each other too many fuckin’ times, baby. Karma’s on our side.”

He laughs. “Karma.” He shakes his head as he undoes his belt.

You quirk your brow at him as your hands fiddle with the fly of his suit pants. “Don’t believe me?”

Steve grunts, shifting to lean over you. “I’ll believe anything you say when you’re taking my pants off, honey. I’m easy that way.”

Your nails rake through the hair on his chest- you can’t keep your hands off of him now that they’ve got him. You trace over two blotchy scars, one on either side of his torso that mirror each other. “What happened here?”

He blows a puff of air out of his mouth, rounding his cheeks as he shrugs. “Some… animals decided I looked really tasty, at one point. I know, they aren’t very pretty.”

Steve’s brushing over it like it’s nothing. You search his face, and you decide to do the same. “Actually, I think it’s kind of hot.” You drag your hand up to lay flat over his chest. You whisper conspiratorially, “Plus, I think you look really tasty, too.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Y’gonna bite me about it?”

“Probably.” You wink. “Most likely.”

Your gaze falls indiscreetly to his cock, hard and flushed, glistening with precum and curving up toward his stomach. Girls talk, especially when they’re all trying to one-up each other; you knew that he was big. You’d heard the rumors. You’d seen him wearing those tight fucking jeans all the time, and you didn’t have to have much of an imagination to figure it out.

Still. It’s… a little overwhelming. You reach out a tentative hand, lightly wrapping your fingers around his base. They barely meet. Jesus Christ.

He groans, and kisses you until you can’t speak, resting his weight on top of you until you sink gleefully into the mattress. There’s a smile on your lips that transfers onto his, happiness and ease still flowing between you even as he grinds his hips up against yours.

“Ready?” Steve murmurs softly into your mouth, stealing your breath when you feel his cock slide through your folds, hot and fat.

“Dunno,” you tell him teasingly, but there’s an edge of reason to your words. Your hips squirm and you feel him even worse, slippery with your arousal. You whine. “I think you might kill me with that thing, Harrington.”

“I’ll go slow,” he whispers, hoarse in the back of his throat, his voice already shaking. “I’ll make sure you feel every bit of it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree as you reach to line him up properly. “I’m all yours.”

Steve gives a relieved sigh as he slides into you, his head falling heavily to your shoulder. His cock aches, his torso shaking as he tries to steady himself. “Oh my god.”

“Baby,” you coo, choking on a moan when he bottoms out. He’s so thick- your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you try to remember how to breathe. It’s certainly a big stretch to try to fit him, but you can’t help wanting more just as soon as he comes to a stop. You can feel him trying to hold steady, holding himself back as though it’s the hardest thing in the world for him to do.

Because it is. You can’t see it, the way that his brow is furrowed in concentration, his eyes screwed shut. He didn’t know it would be like this- that he’d be in danger of blowing it just as soon as he started.

Your heel digs into his ass, and he doesn’t know if you do it purposefully, but he almost whimpers.

You take a shuddering breath. “Please- please move, Steve, I can’t take it.”

Oh, you can’t take it? “You know what,” Steve says with a hint of strain in his voice, picking his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, “I think you like me.”

You snort, and kiss him lightly. “What gave you that impression?”

“Y’so fucking cute.” Steve hums and sloooowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock through your walls so deliciously that your toes curl. “Could be all those times you stared at me in class-” He watches your face as he pushes forward, until his hips are flush with yours and your head arches backwards against his sheets. “Could be when you nearly let me kiss you at prom-” Out. In. Steve runs his tongue up the length of your throat, and bites at your earlobe. He whispers, “Could be that you came on my tongue ten minutes ago.”

He picks up his pace, just a bit. Just enough to have the bed creaking under you with the rhythm, to have you moaning in tandem with him- needy and high pitched, leaping from your throat into the hot, sex-charged air.

Steve’s lips latch onto your neck, and he sucks hard. He eases up after just a couple seconds, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot, but you know what he’s just done- he’s marked you, right where you won’t be able to hide it in the morning.

You want him to do it all over your body.

Your jaw goes slack and you’re losing all integrity. He’s even better than you imagined- sleepless nights wanting, hoping endlessly that you’d find yourself here, under him, couldn’t have prepared you for how perfect it feels. His hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, pinning it to the mattress beside your head, squeezing with every slow and purposeful thrust of his hips.

Steve’s cock finds your g-spot like it’s nothing, like he’s known your body for ages. He barely even has to try before you’re whimpering, raking your nails up his back and leaving long red trails behind.

Your teeth latch onto his shoulder and you bite, probably harder than you should, but you just can’t refuse the urge to mark him the way that he’s left his mark on you. He moans, a deep and boyish sound in your ear, as you drag your tongue along his shoulder, soothing the bite, tasting his sweat. The salt and the sweetness of his skin, mixed with the heady smell of sex in the room, have you losing yourself in him.

“Biter.” You hear him chuckle dangerously, rumbling along your skin while his nose skirts your jawline.

“You’re so good, Stevie-” you whine, hot pleasure rearing up in you like a tidal wave. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, I love- love how you feel inside me.”

Steve groans loudly into your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone. You think he has a mind to bite you back- maybe he’d do it harder. You can see Steve drawing blood, when the mood suits him.

But his hand squeezes yours, his other sweeping broadly up your thigh and hitching your leg up further over his hip. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, bordering on a growl, “What’d’ya say we stay like this forever, huh? Just like this?”

His pelvis grinds up against yours, his pubes crushing against your clit making you gasp. Everything’s wet- your skin, his skin, the sheets. Sweaty bodies sticking and sliding against each other, your hips meeting his in the middle.

“Like this?” you gasp, your head reeling. His forehead presses against yours, and it’s just about the only thing bringing you back into focus. Steve doesn’t falter, keeping the same pace and rhythm while he watches you try to form a coherent reply. “Mm- I- I, hhuh-”

“C’mon, babygirl,” he breathes against your damp skin, “you can do better than that. You love my cock so much, you wanna keep it warm all the time? Wanna stay in bed with me forever, is that it?”

You nod fervently, your hands grabbing at his neck, his hair, his shoulder- anywhere you can touch. “Yes, yes. God, Steve, I- you’re gonna make me cum, shit-”

“I know it,” Steve murmurs, tugging your lip between his teeth and making you whine again. Your cunt pulses around him, and he hisses, his hand slipping on your thigh. “Love seein’ you all drunk on my cock- shit, you’re so gorgeous like this.” He pauses to kiss you, making you lightheaded, making you tug at his hair. “Y’look so pretty under me, baby. Pussy feels so good, I wanna stay here, too. I can see us doin’ this for the rest of our lives, huh? How’s that sound?”

How does it sound? You and Steve Harrington, together forever? Intertwined, knotted up with no way to lose each other, no disappearing and then reappearing years down the line?

“S’that a challenge?” you whimper shakily at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“I don’t think I could let you go, now,” Steve tells you firmly, his hand leaving your thigh so that he can grab your jaw possessively, his tongue darting out to trace gently across your bottom lip. “I’m never gonna let you go, baby.”

You wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t want you to.”

“I hope so,” he whispers, his breath mingling with yours.

Steve kisses you long and slow when you cum. You swallow his moans when he does.

What would you? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you, oh, I can see you…

You almost think it’s a dream. When you rouse in the morning, you feel like you imagined it. But you’re surrounded by the scent of Steve, of musky cologne and sweat and sex, and maybe just a little bit of hair gel stuck to his pillows.

You flop over and stare at the ceiling. You’re alone in a king size bed, fitted with gray sheets and a few too many pillows. The other side of the bed is still warm, but your paramour is nowhere to be found. His bedroom is fairly stark, with a few little things arranged on the dresser top and clothes thrown around the floor. It doesn’t feel like a room he spends much time in, aside from sleeping and dressing in the morning.

You immediately think about what this all means for you. Whether he really meant what he said in the heat of the moment, if he really wants this to be a long-term thing or if it was just pillow talk. It doesn’t take you long to determine which one you want it to be.

There’s commotion on the other side of the closed door. You lean over the side of the bed, searching for something to put on before you just waltz out there naked. Ultimately, you pull on his blouse from last night.

You emerge from the bedroom squinting against the light in the room. The blinds in the living room are open, casting bright sunlight across the room and into the kitchen. You find Steve in front of the stove.

“Hey, there she is!” he announces happily. “Just in time for breakfast.”

Steve looks so comfortable in the kitchen, moving around quickly and efficiently, whereas you tend to blunder about. When you wander over to the island, you notice he’s already picked up his suit jacket, and laid it across the bar stool next to the one you choose.

Your underwear is nowhere to be seen.

You grin at his back, plopping down onto the bar stool. The metal is cold against your bare ass, nearly making you squeal and jump back up. “Is it a Sex on the Beach?”

He laughs gleefully. “Nah, if only. How was that, by the way?”

“The ice cream, or the porn?”

He turns to grin at you over his shoulder. “Both.”

He’s wearing glasses. Round wire frames that complement his face perfectly, making him look distinguished in his gray sweats and black t-shirt. Just like that, you’re spiraling. Suddenly, you’re picturing yourself being here, with him cooking breakfast in his glasses and PJ’s every morning, on and on into the future. Doing domestic shit, grocery shopping, dancing around in the kitchen at 3 am, kissing in the rain- well, you’ve already done that one.

But you can see it. That future, with him by your side, it’s right there. You just don’t know if it’s the one that he wants. You don’t really know how deep this runs for him.

Funny what just an accessory can do to your train of thought.

“Um.” You swallow. What was the question? “The ice cream was great. Still the best sundae I’ve ever had, by the way. The porn was bullshit, I didn’t get through twenty minutes. I just wanted to make you blush.”

“Brat.” He spins around, and plates an omelet right in front of you. You watch his face, tracing the easy smile he wears. “I hope you like it- but if you don’t, you better not say anything. I don’t think I could handle the pain of your rejection.” He looks up at you, hazel eyes shining gold in the sunlight. “You’re staring.”

“I-” you blink at him. You don’t fucking say. You open your mouth to ask- you want to ask what this is, what he feels, did he mean it. Do you want to do this again? Is this serious for you? Because it is for me, if you want it. You just don’t get that far.

“You’ve been staring since we were fourteen,” he chuckles, sliding you a fork.

That startles you. “Well,” you click your tongue. “I didn’t realize you were looking so closely.”

“Oh,” Steve shrugs, turning to place the pan in the sink. “Just since freshman year. When you read Juliet’s monologue in English class. Remember?”

You tilt your head. Vaguely. It was just a class project, where each person had to choose a Shakespearean monologue to recite in front of the class. You thought he only even became aware of you senior year.

Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee, Take all myself.

“Are you telling me,” you say, palms flat on the counter as you peer at him incredulously, “you’ve liked me just as long as I’ve liked you?”

“Told you I’d get there, eventually.”

Your brain refuses to compute. You stare at his back, his tousled hair, and want to yank him toward you and squeeze him like one of those fucking squeaky toys that you get at the pet store. The ones the eyes pop out of.

Steve turns to you with a smirk, leaning across the counter to mirror you. He reaches forward to trace the mark he made on your neck, still tender, while mocking your pout back at you. His eyes crease at the corners, like they always do when he’s trying to be coy.

“Eat your breakfast, baby. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

(I see you, I see you, baby.)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #roses*

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samandcolbyownme · 8 months

Text

PART TWO

Summary: Anon request - "omg wait. request idea for sam and colby as ghostface smut :0 like billy loomis and stu macher OG ghostface"

Warnings: This one shot will contain smut and gore. There will be talk of death, murder, suicide, and blood, along with forceful acts such as choking, gagging, hair pulling, stabbing, and other malicious acts. The smut parts of this will contain, semi forceful actions, unprotected sex, fingering, hair pulling, choking, knife play, oral (both), double penetration, dirty talk, and f i l t h

Side note: Italics are when Sam and/or Colby are in ghostface mode.

If you haven’t read part one, I suggest doing so.

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

Back at the house, you walk the girls inside and take them over to the couch, "Do you need anything?" You look at them as you lay a blanket over Noel's shoulders.

"Water, please." Sophie says lowly and you nod, walking over to the kitchen. Colby comes down the steps and comes over, leaning on the counter, "They doing okay?"

You shrug, grabbing two waters, "I mean.. as good as they can be I guess?" You look down and back up, "I don't understand what's happening to our town."

Sam rubs your back, "They'll figure it out."

"Another body was found late this evening, sources say that twenty four year old Henry Rolland was found floating inside of the pool owned by the mother whose daughter was killed two nights ago now. Sources also say that the cause of death was multiple stab wounds and a throat laceration."

"You guys don't need to watch that." You walk over, switching the tv off, "Here." They take the waters from your hands, cracking them and chugging them almost instantly.

"I can't believe he's gone." Noel whimpers and lays on the couch, grabbing the pillow to sob into it, "Henry."

You kneel down, laying a hand on her back, "Hey.." you brush her hair with your hand and her whole body trembles.

You couldn't fathom how much pain she was in. You didn't even want to try and put Sam or Colby into that because you wanted to puke just thinking about one of them leaving you.

"I can't even imagine the pain you're feeling, but it's all valid and you take as long as you need. I'll be right here." You look at Sophie, "for both of you."

Sam and Colby watch you comfort your friends, taking in just how important you really are.

"I'm so sorry I bailed on you." Noel says quietly, "if I-I would have ju-"

"No. Don't do that. This isn't your fault? Okay?" You lean down, resting your head on hers, "This isn't your fault." You reach over, grabbing Sophie's hand, "This isn't anyone's fault."

You look over at Sam and Colby who smile at you. You give them a small smile, mouthing an, "I love you."

They blow you a kiss and mouth it back before going upstairs to give you guys space to talk and grieve.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

About a month later, everything started to get better. No one has died, Noel and Sophie are slowly started to get out more and more.

Everything was slowly returning to how it, almost, was before.

"Morning." Sam rolls over and kisses your head. Colby does the same, "Good morning."

"What time is it?" You roll over onto your back and Sam laughs slightly, "It's five thirty. We're going on a run."

"Can I come?" Your words surprised them, even you, "Did I really just ask that?"

"You did. And you can, if you think you can keep up." Sam winks down at you and gets out of bed. Colby following him out so he can go get dressed.

You sit up, slowly starting to hate yourself for asking.

You walk over, brushing your hair as you grab a loose crop top and shorts. You throw them on, along with a sports bra and socks, making your way to get your running sneakers that you haven't worn in months.

"Don't you look cute." Sam says leaning against the door frame, "I haven't seen you wear those in months." You laugh with him and nod, "I was just thinking that. I'm surprised they still fit good honestly."

"Ready whenever you guys are." Colby peaks his head in, watching as you put your hair into a ponytail, "Wow."

"It's just running clothes guys." You turn to them and smirk, "But I know what you mean, you guys look good when you work out, too."

They smirk as you walk by them, going down to fill your water bottle, "So.." you chew on your lip and listen to them walk over to you.

"So?" Colby asks leaning down to look at you, "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

You look up at them, "Noel and Sophie want to throw a party, a Halloween party.."

They shrug, "Okay?" Sam asks, "Do you want to go?"

You shrug yourself, "I do, but I don't." You sigh, "I think it would be good to drink and just let go for a little bit, but at the same time.. I feel like it's too soon for them?" You shake your head and screw the lid onto your water bottle, "I don't know.. maybe not.."

"You think about it, then let us know. We'll be with you through everything." Sam runs his hand down your back, "Now let's get going before it's too late."

On your run, you kinda jogged behind them, listening to the music that is coming from your headphones. You zoned out, thinking about the deaths of the people you once called your friends.

Why would someone kill them?

Did they have secrets the wrong people knew?

You stumble back as your body slams into Colby's, "Shit." You look up at him, "Sorry I wasn't paying attention."

"Are you okay?" He looks down at you and you sigh, "I forgot how much thinking you can do on a run."

Sam nods, "That's why I like to run." He takes a sip of his water, "Whatcha thinkin, about? That party?"

"All of it. Why this happened. Who could have possibly done it.. just.. all of it." You say with a sigh, "I'm just.. confused."

"We all are, but it's been a month. You'd think that they would have struck again?" Colby says as you walks over to the one bench in the park. You nod, "Yeah, you would think. I'm just surprised that they don't have anything. Like they're just turning to cold cases."

"Who ever it is.. they're good.. and that makes it even scarier, honestly." Sam sits next to you, smirking at Colby as you look at the ground, "Honestly."

"Maybe they skipped town?" Colby suggests, "I don't think we can leave in fear for the rest of our lives."

"I didn't want to say anything last night, but I'm pretty sure Henry was cheating on Noel with Sophie. I hate to say this, but the way she was acting over Henry just.." you shake your head, "..didn't sit right. It was weird."

Sam nods, "I thought that, too."

A police car slowly rolls past, breaking, then reversing to stop in front of you, Sam, and Colby.

"Fucking hell does he want." Sam mumbles lowly and you sigh, lowering your voice, "Just act nice. Don't do anything dumb."

"What are we doing out here so early?" Dave says getting out of the car and looking around, "Since when do you run? Your dad always said you hated running."

You shrug, "I guess I just learned to like it."

Dave nods, looking over at Colby, "You always stare at police like that?"

"Only one who won't let my girlfriend alone." Colby says and you nudge him. Dave chuckles, "I'm just doing my part, making sure there's still no funny business happening around here."

"Well there's not." Sam says, "We just took a break from running."

"Where's your car?" Dave looks around, "Or did you run here from your house?"

"It's in the parking lot with the other runners cars." Sam tilts his head, "What are you getting at?"

Dave holds his hand up, "I'm not getting at anything, Golbach. Relax."

You feel Sam tense up against your hand and you roll your eyes, "If it's alright, we'd like to get bac-"

"Actually. I'm going to need you guys to head back there, I need to do a quick search. Just need to check the trunk, you know. Routine cop stuff." Dave turns around and Sam stands up, "Why do you need to search my car?"

"Is there any specific reason?" Colby stands up, which makes you stand up, "Just let them look."

"Shouldn't have anything to worry about, that is if you're not hiding anything." Dave smirks, "I'll see you back there." He gets in before any of you can say another word and Sam grumbles, "We need to talk about why that guy is so fucking weird, y/n."

You luckily pushed off that conversation, but now it was time.

"He never actually did anything to me, but when I was younger, he was like the weird uncle that you never felt comfortable around. He would always want me to sit next to him, never wanted me to date. He hated that I was friends with you guy, and I think he hates it even more now, since we're, I'm assuming more than just friends." You smile at them slightly with a laugh, "It was just so weird."

"Why didn't you ever tell anyone? His job for the most?" Colby shakes his head, "He touches you and I swear to god."

You smile and shake your head, "I don't think he ever will, honestly. I think you guys intimidate him so he does things, police wise, because he knows you won't put up a fight and risk getting in trouble, again."

You make your way back to the car, Dave waiting against his cruiser for you, "There you are."

Sam unlocks the car, popping the trunk open, "We have our equipment back there for our videos, so just because careful."

"Yeah, I'll try. Just stand over there for me, hands where I can see them." You rest your hands down by your side, along with Sam and Colby.

Dave looks over the car, checking the cracks and pockets before making biscuits way to the trunk.

They take each of your hands into theirs, getting ready to protect you in case things go south. They're pretty good about hiding the equipment used for other things.

They're not stupid enough to keep it in the car.

"That camera is expensive, man. Don't just-" Colby sighs as Dave drops the camera onto the floor of the trunk, "Oops." He smirks and Colby squeezes your hand.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Sam asks running his hand over his face, "We'd like to get back home now."

"No, no. I guess you guys are good to go." Dave walks back to his car, leaving all the doors to your car open, "As I said before, just trying to keep you safe."

"I can do that myself." You walk to the car, picking up the camera that he dropped and running your finger over the cracked Lense cover, "Asshole."

"What'd ya say?" He opens his door and you look over at him, "I said have a good day." You force a smile and roll your eyes as you look back down.

He drives off, slowly, stopping at another vehicle and doing the same thing to them as he did to you guys, but obviously nicer.

"I'm sorry. I'll buy you ano-"

Sam cuts you off, "Don't worry about that. I'm just glad he didn't run his mouth too bad. Colby was ready to kill him."

That was an understatement.

"As.." you close your eyes and open them, smirking. ".. hot as that sounds.. there's no need to kill anyone for me."

Colby smirks, "you think that's hot?"

You laugh, cheeks turning red, "Get in the car." You get in, biting your lip as you think of how bad Sam and Colby killing for you would turn you on.

They get in and you lean forward, "Would you ever kill for me?"

They both look at you, "If it absolutely came down to it. I think we would." Colby winks at you and you feel a chill run down your spine, "Shit."

"That turn you on or something?" Sam bites his lip, slowly smirking as you nod, "Mhm. Maybe a little bit." He sighs and turns around, nudging Colby with his elbow, "I'll drop you guys off then I'll go get food."

Your eyes scan over Colby as you think about the image of him killing for you, Sam, too.

You chew on your lip, looking back and forth between them, "Can I be honest?"

"Always." Sam glances back at you in the mirror and you smirk, "I didn't feel any remorse for them."

They found that hot.

"That's okay. Everyone feels things differently." Colby turns, "If I'm being honest, I'm glad they're dead." His words fuel you, "Sam, do you have to leave right away?"

He chuckles, "I'll join when I get back." He turns his head, motioning with his finger for you to lean forward. You lean up, and he grips your chin, turning your head to kiss you, "I promise. Now go show Colby a good time."

You smile and laugh as you get out of the car and walk up to the door. You unlock it and turn around to see Colby getting out of the car. He walks up, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulls you inside.

Sam's smile disappeared as soon as the door shut.

Anger fueled his body, he wanted Dave dead, but he wasn't a cop killer.

His mission, to find out a way to get rid of Dave without having to gut him like a fish.

Colby pulls you to him, lifting you up and setting you down on the counter, "You are the best thing.." he kisses down your neck, "That's ever happened to me."

Your hands drag down his chest, "The best thing for me." You moan out as he bites your neck, "Colby."

"Say my name, baby. As many times as you want." He nips your ear as he pulls your shirt slowly up your body.

Sam parks along the sidewalk, getting out and he just so happens to notice the police cruiser parked two cars a head of him.

A smirk toys with his lips as he walks into the shop, thinking about bringing an end to Dave's life, making sure he doesn't mess with you anymore.

"Colby.. " you whimper out as his fingers work their way in and out of you. His hand is pressed flat to the counter next to you and his lips are attached to the skin of your neck.

"Come on, baby. Cum for me." He hums lowly, "You have no idea the things I'd do for you." He leans back, looking into your eyes, "The things Sam would do."

You pull him into you, crashing your lips into his as you cum.

Sam walks around the isles, looking up and down, listening in on the conversation Dave is having with another officer.

"I'm telling you, Stevens. Those boys are trouble." Dave says shaking his head and Stevens laughs, "Dave. Come on. They're fucking young kids who hunt ghosts. The worse thing they've done is trespassed and that was when they were in Florida."

Dave sighs, looking around and Sam ducks down.

Colby pulls out of the knives from the block on the counter, bringing it over and dragging it down your chest, "If this is too much, we ca-"

You grab his hand, pulling the knife up to press gently against your neck, "I've always wanted to do knife play."

"You were fucking made for me." Colby crashes his lips into yours, keeping the knife gently on your skin, "fucking perfect."

You lean back to take your sports bra off, tossing it onto the floor and Colby instantly has the top of the knife on your skin, dragging it down between your boobs, "Beg for me."

"I just have an off feeling about them, Stevens." Dave huffs, "I promised her dad on his fucking death bed I would make sure nothing happens to her. Hell.." he chuckles slightly, "it took me watching a video on YouTube and looking up her right name on social medias to know she was okay and where she was."

Sam makes a face and moves to another isle quickly and quietly.

"I can see why she wanted to get away, you're a weird dude, Tyler's." Stevens laughs and sighs, "They're good kids, trust me. They've never been in trouble with us before, so you need to just drop it."

"Nah, there's something going on with them. There's no way she's doing that willingly. Something about that Brock kid is off."

Sam stands up, grabbing a two bags of chips and your favorite candy on your way up to the register, waking right by the two officers who shut straight up.

"Sam. How's it going?" Stevens asks, "Back fully healed?"

"Please, please." You whimper, pulling Colby into you, "Colby.. I need you."

"Need me to what baby?" The knife drags across your thighs, making your breathing shutter.

"I need you to fuck me."

"Say it louder." Colby presses the tip of the knife into your skin, watching as it leaves a light red mark as he drags it down, "No one will hear you scream."

"Yeah, yeah. Bach is all healed. I've been running every morning, training for a marathon here in the next few months." Sam pays and grabs his bag, "I'm just picking up stuff for my girlfriend."

"Where is she?" Dave asks and Sam stares at him, "At home with Colby." He smirks slightly before nodding to Stevens, "See you later."

Colby slides you down off the counter, spinning you around to bend you over it. He slides your shorts down, letting them fall before he slides the knife down the back of your thigh as he drops down slowly.

"Fuck, fuck. Colby!" You cry out, "Fuck me. I need you."

He presses the knife in, a sharp pinch of your skin being cut open makes you moan, "Fuck." Colby runs his thumb over the small cut, "You like that?"

You nod, looking down at him, "So fucking much."

"Would have never thought." He stands up, moving to gently drag it down your spine.

Sam gets in the car, letting out a sigh as he starts the car, driving off as Dave walks out of the store. He drives two blocks over, stopping at the flower shop, and lo and behold, Dave follows him, thinking he's slick.

Sam lets out a laugh as he picks up the bundle of flowers, paying and slipping out as Dave moves out of sight for a moment.

Sam makes it to the car with him noticing before Dave gets to the door of the flower shop. He watches as Sam drives off, turning right at the stop sign to go pick up lunch for everyone at the house.

Colby has his hand on his your throat, squeezing hard as his cock pushes deep into you, groaning out as the knife presses into your back.

Your moans are muffled, choked as you try your best to be loud for him. Your nails dig at the marbled countertop, scratching as you clench around him, "F-fuck." You squeak out, "Shi-"

He drops the knife on the counter, gripping your shoulders as so he can pull you up slightly, "Fuck." You gasp out.

He wraps an arm around your waist and brings the knife up to your throat. You tilt your head, "Colby." You moan loudly as you push your hips back into him, "F-fuck."

He pushes the knife against your neck with more pressure and moans in your ear, "You have the best pussy, I'm honored to share it with Sam."

"You own me." You turn your head slightly, wincing as the blade accidentally cuts you. Colby drops the knife away from you, immediately looking at how bad it is.

"It can wait." You grab his hand, pushing it against your neck to choke you. He groans with a smirk, "Incredible." He moans lowly as he pushes his cock all the way into you.

Sam's mind is going ten miles a minute.

His car probably has a dash cam, so jumping him while getting pulled over is out of question, and he's a cop, so his house probably has cameras.

Sam even thinks about getting you to message him, meet you to talk about the case, give him new info, but he doesn't want to drag you into it.

Unless you wanted to.

He shakes his head, "No, Sam." He tells himself and rolls his eyes as the flashing blue and red lights fill his mirrors.

"Of. Fucking. Course."

"Tell me where you want me to cum." Colby grips your chin, turning your head as he rests his forehead against your temple, "Fuck.."

"In my pussy." You whimper out, "Cum in me."

"You're such a slut. I love it." Colby groans, "I fucking love it."

"Samuel Golbach." Dave says as Sam puts down the window with a sigh, "What do you want?"

Dave chuckles, "Relax, Sam. I just wanted to let you know that you have a tail light out."

Sam leans forward, looking back as Dave walks to the back of his car, "I don't ha-"

Dave breaks the red plastic, causing the light to go out, "Might want to get that fixed."

Sam goes to get out of the car, "You mother fu-"

"Ah, ah, ah.." Dave wags his finger at Sam, "I could get you for assault on a police officer, but I won't because you're going to stay in there and let me drive away first."

Colby pulls you into him, thrusting his cock as deep as it can go before he cums, moaning lowly into your ear, "Fuck, baby."

You're panting as Colby gently lets go, "I didn't hurt you too bad did I?" You shake your head, resting your elbows on the counter as you turn your head slightly, "No, no. I'm okay."

His eyes scan over the cut on your neck, biting his lip as his eyes move over the dried blood smear, "Let's get you cleaned up."

Sam sits there, watching as Dave drives in front of him and does a U-turn, stopping right next to his window. He rolls his down, looking at Sam, "You hurt her, and your life will be over."

"Is that a threat?" Sam raises his eyebrows, scoffing with a laugh, "Don't threaten me."

Dave shrugs, lifting his hand off the door, "Then consider it a promise."

Sam watches as Dave drives off, letting out a loud, "Fuck you." Sam puts the car in drive and continues driving home, thoughts about getting rid of Dave in overdrive.

"I didn't know you liked knife play." Colby chuckles as he wipes the dried blood from your neck, dropping down to wipe the dried line from the back of your leg, "You're full of surprises aren't you?"

You look down at him, biting your lip as you shrug, "I didn't know I liked it either." You turn your head towards the mirror, running your fingers over the tiny cut, "I was just surprised myself."

You hear the door open and slam shut, looking at Colby as you hear Sam yelling to himself, "Fucking asshole."

Colby tosses the washcloth on the counter, grabbing your hand as he leads you downstairs, "Sam, what's going on?"

Sam turns around, smiling when he sees you. "You know we'd never hurt you right?"

"I know that. What happened?" You walk over to him and he glances up at Colby, "Officer bodyguard.." Sam rolls his eyes, "Pulled me over on the way back home, busted out my taillight."

"He did what?" You lean back and look at him, "He can't just.. why did he do that?"

Sam clenches his jaw, "He pulled me over, walked up, said, hey you have a taillight out, and when I went to tell him that I know I didn't, he smashed it out."

"What the fuck? Why is he coming af-" you gasp, "what if it's him? The killer..wh-what if it's him?" Your heart starts racing and Sam shrugs, focusing on your neck, "Whoa, hey. What happened here?"

He turns your head with your chin, inspecting the small cut, "Colby?" He looks up and Colby smirks, "We, uh.. well, she likes knife play."

Sam's face softens and raises an eyebrow as he smirks, "Dirty girl."

"That's what I said." Colby chuckles and you can feel your cheek heating up, a slight red blush laying over top, "Yeah, yeah."

"Oh I um." Sam turns you towards the counter with the food and flowers, "I figured you needed a little pick me up, so I stopped and got you these."

You walk over, leaning in and closing your eyes as you smell the flowers, "Sam, these are perfect."

"Wasn't all my idea." Sam nods towards Colby and you look over at him, "When did you guys talk about this?"

Colby shrugs, "You'd be surprised what you miss sometimes."

"Yeah I guess this last few weeks I've been kinda out of it." You brush your fingers over the soft petals, "Thank you. Both of you."

"Anything to keep our girl happy." Sam walks up, kissing your head, "Oh, Colby. I have something I want to show you." He turns to you, "Go pick a movie, get comfy, we'll be back down in a second. I have a new merch idea and I want to make sure it's perfect before you see it."

"Ooh. Alright." You smile and grab the bags, walking over to the couch, settling in as they disappear upstairs.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Two weeks later.

"Are you sure you want to have this party?" You ask looking up at Noel and Sophie, "I'm all for it, I'm just asking for the sake of you guys.. I know it's bee-"

"We're having this party." Noel nods, "Henry.. would have wanted us to."

"The killer hasn't shows any kind of sign that he's still around, so I think we'll be good." Sophie goes back to looking at her list, "We need balloons, cupcakes, alcohol and the most important thing, our costumes."

"That is like the most important thing, how did I forget that?" Noel gasps, "What are you going to be?"

You laugh slightly, "Oh god, I didn't even think of that."

After a few seconds of looking at each other, Noel and Sophie lean in, "What .. are you to Sam and Colby exactly?"

Your head snaps up, "We're friends."

Noel rolls her eyes, "Please. Friends don't look at friends the way they look at you."

You shrug, "I've known them since we were kids, they're the only ones who really stood up for me."

"So you're attached to them because they're nice to you?" Sophie leans back, "Just spill it, y/n. You know we won't say anything."

You didn't believe that, "We're just friends. I have my own room, they have their own rooms. It works out." You continue the just friends argument, "it just works."

"Do you.. you know, do it with either one of them?" Noel shrugs, "Or both."

You shake your head, anger building up inside of you, "No, Noel. Now just.. let it go."

"That's a shame, Colby is pretty fucking hot." Sophie giggles as she looks at Noel and you clench your jaw, "You know what, I'm not doing this. I thought it was party planning, not twenty fucking questions about who I may or may not be fucking."

You get up and they both tell you to sit.

"Okay. Okay. Gosh, sorry. I didn't know that was a touchy subject." Noel sighs, "No more Sam and Colby talk. Only party talk."

You nod, "So costumes. Are we doing a trio thing or what?"

"I'm going as Barbie, Eli is going to be Ken." Sophie says, "You and Noel can be the other Barbie's?"

You shrug, "I don't know, I'll have to go to the store later today."

"Well you better get to it. The party is in three days." Noel raises her eyebrows, "Actually. We can go now."

You let out a sigh, just wanted to get home to Sam and Colby. You really didn't want to have this party. You felt off about it. Wasn't so much a bad off feeling, but you still couldn't explain it.

"It's almost like he's obsessed with her, Colby." Sam sighs as he paces, "I have this genuine hatred for him."

Colby nods, "So do I.. but that's a cop dude." He sighs, "I want Eli gone first."

After arriving to the Halloween store, you make your way inside and of course they go straight to the slutty costumes.

You bit your lip, thinking about what Sam and Colby would really love to see you in. You thought about going as an angel or a devil, but that is such a Halloween classic, you wanted something different.

"And xander." Sam mumbles, "They were both there that night. In the room." He hits a water bottle off of the counter with a groan, "Fuck."

You make your way to the prop section, eyes scanning over the fake knives and other weapons, and you can't help but picture Colby pressing the knife to your throat.

You thought that was the hottest thing ever and you thought about buying one just so you didn't actually get cut, but where's the fun in that?

"I think we should have the party here." Colby suggests and Sam sighs, "what? And bring all the attention to us? Thats exactly what officer fuckface wants. You know he'll show up."

"Found it!" Sophie says making you jump, "The last one." She holds up the brightly colored, Skating Barbie costume, "I would have been pissed if they didn't have one."

Colby lets Sam rant before he gets up and walks over to him, "I have a plan, Sam. Trust me."

You laugh slightly, "Yeah, I can see why." She frowns at you, "Why aren't you in this? You always love Halloween."

You shrug, "I'm excited, but I guess I'm also just a bit scared, like what if this is what the killer is waiting for? Stupid people to throw a stupid party."

You look down, "I don't know."

She grabs your wrist, "You just need to focus on having fun. The killer hasn't killed. There's been no sign of him. I think we'll be fine."

"What do you think?" Noel holds up a very revealing nun costume, staring at you and Sophie, "Well?"

"I like it. Maybe you'll find yourself a preacher." Sophie winks and walks away. You laugh slightly, "I like it."

"Did you find something yet?" She asks and you shake your head, "Nope." She grabs your arm, "Come on. We'll find the perfect one for you."

After a walking circles around the Halloween store, you finally make it home.

You walk through the door, smiling at them as you set your bags on the counter, "Hey." You could tell something was up, "you guys alright?"

They both smile at you and Colby walks up to you, kissing your head, "Yeah. What's in the bags?"

You smirk slightly, "My options for this party."

"Costumes?" Sam's brow twitches up, "Let's see 'em."

You laugh slightly as you take out the packages containing costumes you know won't last through the night, "They're just cheap ones because I don't really feel like doing this, honestly."

"You mean to tell me.. you don't want to dress up as.." Sam walks up, tuning the costumes towards him, "Tinkerbell, cowgirl Barbie, or cat woman?"

You bite your lip, "I had a vision for cat woman actually." You admit as Colby leans down next to you, "Oh yeah, do tell."

You smirk and look over at him, "fishnets.. knee high boots... a whip." You look to Sam and he tilts his head, "Definitely cat woman."

"I second that one. Screw the other two." Colby brings the costume to him, "Oh yeah. Hands down this one."

You look up at him, thinking about what Sophie said, "so, when I was at lunch, planning this stupid thing, Sophie.. um.." you laugh, "Oh god I can't even say it."

"What did she do?" Colby lays a hand on your back.

"She didn't do anything, it's more of.. what she said actually." You sigh, shaking your head, "She said you were hot, but there's more to it."

"Did they ask what we were?" Colby asks tilting his head and you nod, "Yeah, I said we were friends, but I didn't really go into detail about anything. They asked if we've fucked and when I said no, that's when she said her comment about.." you change your voice, "That's a shame, that Colby is hot."

They both laugh and Colby leans in, "You are the only one I'll want, ever."

You believed him, "Maybe that's why I wanted to rip her head off."

"Jealous, are we?" Colby whispers looking from your eyes to your lips, while Sam stands back watching.

You shake your head, "Only wanted to protect what was mine, I guess." You smirk and look at Sam who nods, "I get what you mean, fully."

"Oh, hey. Don't forget, we won't be here tomorrow night. We have that investigation to do." Colby glances at Sam.

"Oh the old church one?" You ask ripping open the packaging to your costume.

"Yep. The church with the pastor or whatever that was known to sacrifice women. I've heard nothing but bad things about that place. So." Sam smirks, "I'm excited."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Two days before Halloween.

"Hello?"

"Wanna play a game?" Sam says, voice changer close to his lips.

"Who is this?" The girl asks looking out her window. Sam ducks behind some trees, "Doesn't matter who this is, I want to know if you want to play a game."

"No, thanks. Call someone else."

"Hang up on me and you'll die just like your friends." Sam threatens and she slowly puts the phone back to her ear, "What the fuck did you just say?"

"You heard me. I don't need to repeat myself."

She doesn't say anything and Sam chuckles, "Are you home alone?"

She hesitates at first, "No. I'm not."

"Are you sure about that?" Sam tsks his tongue, "I don't like when people lie to me."

"I-I'm not.. I'm not lying." She stumbles over her words, choosing to hold her ground, "I have my friends here with me."

Sam knew that was a lie because Colby was in the closet of her room.

"Who is this? I'm calling th-"

"You call the cops and your death wish will be granted. Got that?" Sam waits a few moments, "I need you to tell me you understand."

"I understand." She whispers, "Please don't.. don't hurt me." She gets choked up, "I'll do anything."

"Go to your desk and sit down." He moves so he can see into her window from afar, "Good. Now get out a pen and a piece of paper."

"Why do I need to do that?"

"It wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you the reason now, would it?" Sam chuckles, "Now.. I want you to write what I say."

"Fine." She shakily presses her pen to the paper, "What do you want me to write."

"I'm so sorry. Henry dying was just too much for me."

"I'm no-"

"Write it."

She starts to cry, shakily writing the words Sam tells her to.

"He was everything I had." Sam continues and she writes, sniffling into the phone, "Wh-why.. are you doing this?"

"Hiding my constant fear got the best of me so I decided to give myself peace."

"What is this?" She gasps, tears falling onto the page, "I don't understand."

"I'm sorry to those I've hurt." Sam still telling her what to write, "But I needed to do this."

Sam listens to her cry into the phone, "P-please I-I'll do any-thing..pl-please."

"Now write your name."

"Oh my god.." she starts freaking out, "O-oh my.. what- why are you doing this?"

"Because you deserve it. You're such a shitty fucking person. A pathetic excuse of a friend." Sam scoffs, "You deserve to be burning along side of Nina, Levi, and Henry." Sam looks up as Colby comes out of the closet, throwing a rope around her neck, strangling her.

Sam hears her muffled screams on the phone and smirks as he listens to her die, "Fuck you."

He hangs up, heading back through the woods towards the church. Colby catches up, taking off his mask, "Another one bites the dust."

Early that morning, Sam and Colby arrive home to find you sitting on the couch, "What are you doing up so early?" Sam asks as he tosses the duffle bag behind the island of the kitchen.

You look over, "Couldn't really sleep, so I decided to come down and watch some tv. How was the church?"

Colby shakes his head, "It as a rough one, honestly. Here. I'll show you the footage." Colby walks over, distracting you so Sam can take the bag upstairs.

"If you watch.. right here.." Colby pauses the video and uses his pinky to point, "..you'll see a figure move at the bottom of the steps." Colby presses play and you gasp, "Holy shit."

He doesn't care about the video, he's focused on you. After a kill, it's like they need to celebrate with you.

"Yeah, it was crazy. Sam was scratched, two across his back."

"Is he okay?" You ask turning towards Colby. He nods, "Oh yeah, he's a tough guy. You know him." You smirk, "I know. I've witness him get pushed down the stairs by a spirit and he took it like a champ."

"Are you talking about me?" Sam asks walking down the steps. You nod, "Maybe. Now turn around." He sighs, looking at Colby, "You told her?"

He shrugs, "She was going to see it one way or another."

Sam sighs, smirking as he turns around, "Have at it." He lifts his shirt up and you gasp, eyes wide, "Sam. Oh my god." You walk over, his body tensing at the cool touch of your fingers, "I'll be fine, babe."

You look up at him as he turns around, "I promise."

You smile and close your eyes as he leans down to kiss you, "If you say so."

"Hey Sam." Colby says as he clicks through the footage, "Did you delete any of our footage?" Sam walks over, shaking his head, "No. why?"

"Not all of it's here." Colby looks up at him, a shocked expression taking over, "We're going to have to make a video explaining before hand that we don't have all of it."

"Let's just do it now, get it out of the way." Sam runs a hand through his hair, "Fuck, the beginning of that was the best part, too."

"I'm sorry, guys." You sit down between them and Colby snaps his fingers, "Didn't the owner of the church say that they've had video footage deleted too?"

"Yeah, yeah. He did. They were doing a tour and had over two hours worth of footage and when they went to upload it, they only had like forty five minutes of it or something."

But they already knew this. That's why tonight was the perfect night to take out their next target. If the police show up for them, they have stuff to cover their asses.

After a few hours of sitting with them, editing their video together, your phone rings, "Hello?"

Sophie is on the other end of the line, "Morning sunshine, have you heard from Noel at all?"

"Not since yesterday." You stand up and walk over to the window, "Why what's up?"

"We were supposed to go pick up the balloons today after getting coffee and she was a no show." Sophie sighs, "I don't know, she's probably sleeping in. I know she was up late last night adding rhinestones to her costume."

"That's weird, but she also is one to sleep through alarms so I wouldn't think much of it. I'll give her a call after I get off the phone with you."

"It goes straight to voicemail, but If you do find a way to talk to her, tell her I'm pissed."

You laugh, "Will do."

You hang up and call Noel, which goes straight to voicemail, "Hmm."

"What's up, babe?" Colby leans back in his chair as he stretches his arms over his head. You shake your head, "Oh, nothing. Just that Noel was to meet Sophie for coffee and stuff but she didn't show. Her phone is going straight to voicemail so she probably just let it die."

"Is that normal?" Colby turns towards you and you walk back over to the bed, "I guess so. Her phone is always needing charged."

"Hey, Colby." Sam says walking into the room, "Figured out our costumes."

Colby tilts his chin up, "Yeah?"

Sam nods, "Ghostbusters."

You laugh, "Oh my god. That's perfect, Sam."

Colby agrees, "I was actually thinking the same thing."

There's banging on your front door, loud, fast banging.

"Who is that?" Sam turns around, "Are we expecting anyone?" You shake your head, "No, not that I know of." You make your way down stairs and open the door to find Sophie, she looks like she's been crying.

"That selfish fucking bitch." Sophie says as she walks in, sniffling, "That stupid fu-" her voice cracks and she sighs, "Fuck."

"Slow down. Who's a selfish bitch?" You shut the door and walk over to her. She looks up at you slowly, "Noel killed herself."

"Whoa, what?!" You're taken aback by her words, surprised that Noel would do something, "Are you serious?"

"No, y/n. I made the whole fucking thing up." Her hands slap her thighs, "Yes, y/n. I'm serious." You stand there silently, glancing at Sam and Colby who are standing on the steps, "Sorry."

Sophie looks at you, "Why do you seem like you don't care?"

"I'm in fucking shock, Sophie. I didn't ever think she would do this. How do you expect me to act?" You shrug and cross your arms, "Plus, you guys were a lot closer than her and I were."

"What does that have to do with anything? She was still your fucking friend." She shakes her head slightly, looking at you wide eyed, "Was she not?"

"Yeah, I guess whatever." You roll your eyes, "I'm sorry I can't cry on command or feel like I need to. I don't know what you want me to say, really."

Sophie lets out a laugh, "Fuck." She wipes her face, "Sorry. I just.."

"No I get it." You look down at the floor and Sophie sighs, "So do you want to get the balloons and coffee with me?"

"You still want to have this damn thing? After everything?" You look at her confused and she nods, reaching to grab your hands, "Noel would have wanted us to."

You look around the room, unsure of what to say and Sophie sighs, "Well I'm going to get the balloons and then I'm going to let everyone know." She walks towards the door, "I'm having this party with or without you."

"Have it here." Colby says walking down the steps, "We have the space, no neighbors. It'll be perfect."

Sophie bites her lip, smiling up at Colby, "Really?"

He nods and you speak before he does, "Colby, I do-"

"Oh my god, y/n. Let the man speak, please." Sophie glares over at you and tilts her head before looking back at Colby, "Anyway, as you were saying."

If looks could kill, Sophie would be dead and you would be responsible.

Both sam and Colby picked up on it, which was enough confirmation for them.

"I'll be fine, y/n. I promise." Colby winks at you and you for some reason feel okay with it. Maybe it was the love and trust you had for him and Sam, but doesn't matter, as long as they'll be there.

You know they'd never let anything happen to you.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Halloween

Sam and Colby have been finding out a way to get rid of Dave, or as Sam calls him, officer fuckface, and with consistent thinking and delicate planning, they finally had a plan set in place.

"Don't you look cute." You say walking into their room, looking them both dressed in their costumes. Sam bites his lip, "You look so hot."

Colby turns and his jaw drops slightly, "The fishnets really pull it together." He walks over, hand lightly dragging over the cheap leather material, "You look perfect."

You look up at him, sliding your eye mask down from the top of your head, "I have never wanted to fuck a cat before, but that has changed. Right now."

Sam chuckles and walks up, "Stay close tonight. Wanna make sure no one touches our girl."

"Yeah, wouldn't want a fight to break out or anything." Sam pecks your cheek, "Now go see if everything is up to your standards."

"So you mean cancel the party?" You joke and they tilt their heads at you, "Y/n. Just try and have fun." Sam says, "Please. For us?"

"As long as you promise to lock our bedroom doors, I don't want random people in here." You motion to the room and they nod.

"You got it, babe." Colby winks and you smile as you walk down the steps, looking over your Halloween filled house, "It looks like a Halloween goblin threw up in here."

"How are you so sure that that's where they'll go?" Sam asks shutting the bedroom door. Colby sighs, "You have to trust me on this, okay.",

You walk over to Sophie and she laughs, "Right. I love it." She looks over at you, "And you would too if you would just loosen up. Here." She pours both of you a shot and hands it to you, clinking the little shot glass together before taking hers.

"I really don't want to be stabbed either, but as long as you don't go too deep, we'll be fine." Colby stands back up, "We're doing this for her."

Sam smirks slightly as the thought of you creeps back into his mind, "For her."

You hesitate at first, sighing as she looks at you, "Fine." You take your shot, cringing at the burn, "Fuck."

She laughs, "Oh. People are here! Wait until you see Eli."

You raise your eyebrows, taking another shot, "can't wait."

A few hours into the party and you feel pretty good.

You're dancing and singing to the music like the last two months didn't happen. You felt like things were back to normal, until you seen Sophie walk up to Colby.

You look over at Eli who is talking to another girl, smiling and nodding along.

You knew what Sophie was doing and you weren't having it. As you set your cup down to walk over, you feel hands on your waist and you're pulled back, "Don't worry about her. She isn't a problem."

"She's using Colby to get back at Eli. That's a problem." You try to fight Sam's grip, but he tightens it, "Hey. Eyes on me."

You turn around, listening to him like you always do. Your eyes meet his and you can't help but smile, "Do you guys love me? Like really, really love me?"

Sam smiles at your drunken question and he leans in, "You have no idea the lengths we'd go through for you and only you."

You grip the collar of his costume, "I really like the sound of that."

"You're the only person I'd share with Colby. You genuinely have no idea how much you mean to us. You're all we want." Sam runs his lips against your cheek, "I promise you that we really, really love you."

You smile, nodding at his words, "I believe you."

"As you should babe. Now look." He spins you around to see Sophie stomping away from Colby, an angry look on her face as she makes her way back to Eli, yelling at him.

Colby glances over, smirking over at you and you bite your lip.

The thought of having them both was slowly taking over and the urge to ditch the party was strong.

Sam moves your body with his, moving hair from your shoulder so he can kiss your neck. You tilt your head, closing your eyes as you move with him, turning to face him as you wrap your arms around his neck.

Once another song plays, Colby comes up behind you, taking over so Sam can go get a drink.

Colby gives Sam a look and Sam notices Eli and Xander slip out the back door, looking around to make sure no one noticed.

With majorly perfect timing, Sophie stumbles up to you, "I need you. Sorry." She rolls her eyes at Colby and drags you away.

You look back, giving them a sorry look and they shake their heads, motioning you to go, and that's when they snap into action.

Sophie pulls you upstairs, trying to go into your room, but the doors are locked so she kicks it.

Sam and Colby don't waste another second. They leave quickly to go to their hidden items. They throw on their long black cloaks, slip on their gloves and mask on, "Ready?" Sam asks looking over at Colby.

Colby nods, "Let's end this."

"Whoa. Hey. Hey. Calm down." You step towards her and she turns, "Calm down? You're telling me to calm down when my boyfriend is down there talking to other girls? Humiliating me?" She huffs, "God, can you just humor me for fucking once?"

Xander and Eli are standing out behind the medium sized shed that you guys haven't touched since you moved in.

They're laughing and joking, talking about who they're taking home and what not.

Sam motions for Colby to go on the other side so he can take Xander.

"Eli was only talking to Dina, and she's dating someone, Soph. I don't think it was anything serious. You're drunk so your emotions are all over the place." You walk towards her and watch as she slides down the wall, "I just feel like we're falling apart."

Sam walks up, quickly covering Eli's mouth and stabbing him repeatedly in the back, Colby doing the same thing to Xander.

They keep their hands pressed to their mouths until they're both on the ground looking up at ghostly masks staring down at them.

"f-fuck. You." Eli manages to choke out before he takes his final breath. Sam looks over at Colby who twists the knife in Xander's chest before pulling it out, "Fuck you."

You sit down next to her, "I'm sure him being accused of killing everyone would do-"

"I'm not talking about him." She looks over at you, "I'm talking about us."

You nod, "I know what you mean." You look down, "Ever since high school and Nina had her glow up, she took you with but left me out and I-"

"She was jealous of you."

They go back into the woods, ducking down to figure out the next step, "do we just go back into the party or."

Colby shakes his head, "We need to go up, grab the mask and extra cloak thing, we're going to need it when officer fuckface arrives."

"Fuck, I forgot about him." Sam sighs, "Okay. Let's just.. climb in through your window."

"What?" You ask looking up at Sophie with a slight laugh, "I doubt that."

Sophie shakes her head, "No, she was. She was jealous of how easy going you were. Especially with how you didn't let anything bother you much, I mean he'll. I can't really blame her. You're the only one who kept a straight head with everyone around us dying." She looks over at you, "I'm jealous of that too."

You laugh and shake your head, "It's all the trauma."

"You were raised right. Your dad did a good job." She smiles then makes a face, "I mean, his choice in who to look after you wasn't that great, but at the same time, it's the thought that matters."

You smile and pull her in, "I love you."

She lays her hands on your arms, "I love you." She pulls away and stands up, "Now come on. I hear the DJ is about to play our song."

"Let me go to the bathroom first, I'll meet you downstairs." You look up at her and she nods, "Okay."

"I'm caught." Colby says to Sam as he tries to pull himself through the window.

Sam leans around to look, "Hang on.. wait. Don't just-"

Colby ends up falling face first into the room, knocking stuff on his desk over.

She walks down the steps and you stand up to go to the bathroom. You stop when you hear a few thuds come from Colby's room.

"Wipe off your knife, Sam." I don't want blood on my carpet."

Sam laughs quietly, "You are such a fucking woman, you know that?"

They bicker back and forth, not even realizing that you're about to catch them in full glory of being the killers.

Pissed that people are in there, you walk to the bathroom, reaching up to grab the key from above the mirror. You walk over to Colby's door, as quietly as possibly, sliding the key into the lock and quickly push the door open.

"What the fuck ate yo-" You freeze in fear when you see two men in black robes wearing white ghost looking mask, "..doing in here?"

They bring knives up, using their glove covered hands to swipe away the red coloring on the blade, "What the fuck."

You go to turn but one of them grabs you, pulling you back in. Their hand instantly goes over your mouth to keep you from screaming.

The other shuts and locks the door and you're very confused when you hear Sam's voice coming from behind the mask.

"Hmm." Your eyes go wide and Sam pulls the mask off, a slightly scared look on his face, "Don't. Don't do it."

You pull Colby's hand away, "Do what?! Freak out because there was what I thought, two random masked men in the room with knives?!" You whisper yell and look behind you as Colby takes his mask off.

You look between them, "Did.. you, wait, wait what.. is this some sort of.. Halloween prank... I- what's going on here?"

"She's going to freak out." Colby says looking at Sam.

Sam nods, "Uh huh."

"Freak out about what? What are you-"

Then it clicks.

Your mouth opens and you point between them, slowly backing up, "No.." you gasp quietly, "Did you.. were you.. are you.." you stop when your back hits the wall, "Sam.." your voice is quiet and you look at Colby, "Colby.."

"Don't.. freak out." Sam holds his hands out, walking towards you, "Let us explain."

You couldn't lie, watching them do the synchronized knife swipe, to clean off what you could only assume was blood, was the hottest thing you'd ever witnessed.

You stand there, staring at them as you nod your head a few times. You weren't scared. You were more interested in hearing the reasoning behind it.

You didn't understand anything, really.

Colby stands next to Sam, not even bothering to hide his smirk. When Sam goes to speak you hold your hand up, "Question."

"Yes?" Sam raises his eyebrows as he smirks at you. You try to wrap your head around everything, figuring out what to even ask, "Um.. so.. was it you guys?"

"Was it us what?" Colby asks shrugging.

You roll your eyes, "You know what."

"Yes." Sam looks over at Colby then back to you, "Do you want to know why?" You nod your head instantly, "Yes."

"Because of what they did to you." Colby says, "At Xander's party. The one you went to with Sophie."

"You know about that?" Your voice is quiet, shy almost.

"You told us." Sam says walking over to you, "The night we were at home, making that answer or drink video.. you told us off camera right before you went to bed."

You feel embarrassed. Disgusted with yourself.

"I'm sorry.." you whisper and tears well up in your eyes, "I didn't.. I didn't mean for you-"

"That's the thing though baby." Sam cups your cheeks, "You didn't ask us to. We did it for you."

The rush of them killing for you takes over and you pull Sam into kiss him, "You really do love me."

Sam chuckles against your lips, "I told you."

Colby clears his throat, "Corey just texted. Officer fuckface is on his way here."

"Wait.. wait.. Corey is in this too?" You shake your head trying to wrap your mind around it.

"Only for lookout. We'll explain everything later, right now we have to finish the job." Colby looks down at his mask, "We're getting rid of officer fuckface for you."

You bite your lip, your heart thumping hard in your chest, "Are you going to kill him?"

Colby walks up to you, "No. just going to frame him for all of this." He kisses your lips and leans back, "Can you keep this a secret?"

"As long as you promise not to kill me, Mr. Ghostface, because I want to be in the sequel." You smile, biting your lip as he smirks, "we'd never do that."

He turns to Sam, "Let's go."

"Wait. Are you guys going to get hurt?" You walk over to them and Sam sighs, "Just act frantic when you see us next."

You nod, watching them disappear out the window before leaving the room, locking it behind you.

"There you are!" Sophie says causing you to jump. You let out a laugh, "Yeah, so sorry. Sam needed my help with his costume."

"You guys have the weirdest friendship, but that's okay. I'm too drunk to care, now come on." She links her arm with yours and drags you downstairs.

The boys duck down, waiting for Dave to come where they can grab him. He sneaks around the side of the house, peeking into the windows.

He gets back to below the deck area and they jump out, both tackling him.

You felt like you could throw up, and it really wasn't the alcohol. You just walked in to the biggest secret of your life and you can't tell anyone.

It also turned you on. Seeing them do the knife swipe, and taking off their masks, you could have had sex with them right then and there, masks on or off.

"Get.. off.. of - fuck." Dave lands a punch to Colby, knocking his mask to the side. Colby shakes his head, fixing it so it's straight and punches him hard.

Knocking him out completely and that's when Corey runs up, freezing at the scene.

"Stay back. Don't touch him or anything around here." Sam warns and Corey nods, watching in slight horror, but he'd die for his best friends too, so he was on their side instantly.

They drag Dave over to where the bodies are, dressing him in the extra cloak and making sure to use his hands to finger print up the mask and knife.

They thought long and hard about the process of this.

"Now you're going to have to stab me, Colby." Sam looks up and Corey freaks out, "What the fuck. No Sam."

"Fuck." You sigh and Sophie looks at you, "You say something?" You laugh, acting more drunk than you are, you're almost sober now, "I need another drink."

"I have to, Corey. Okay. Just if he wakes up, hit him with this." Colby points to a broken cinder block, "Please."

Sam stands up, "Let me give you a few good punches, the one he gave you isn't enough."

Corey stands there, eyes moving back and forth from the three bodies on the ground and Sam and Colby absolutely kicking the shit out of each other.

You walk over to the counter, pouring yourself some plain soda, your eyes staying on the back door.

"Okay. Now just cut my side then I'll stab you." Colby takes a deep breath, "you have to do it hard enough to slice through this costume."

Sam lays a hand on his shoulder, "I love you, brother." Colby nods, laughing slightly, "I love you, brother."

Soon after Sophie walks up to you, Sam comes barreling through the door, screaming as his costume is soaked in blood.

Your eyes go wide, "Oh my god. Oh my god. Call nine one one." You race over to Sam, sitting him down on the floor as everyone gets their phones out to call, "Sam. Sam." You lay your hands on his cheeks, "Sam, baby. Stay with me."

Colby takes the stuff worn by him and Sam and discards it in the safe place in the woods.

As he limps back, he sees Cory standing over Dave and he drops the cinder block as Colby walks up, "Did he wake up?"

"Yeah, he tried to get up but I fucking cracked him in the back of the head." Corey wraps his arm around Colby and slowly walks him towards the house.

"Thank you." Colby whispers and Corey nods, "We're never going to talk about this. Ever."

You turn, screaming, "Someone get me towels!"

Sophie comes running over, arms filled with towels and she falls down next to you, "What the fuck?" She looks over him, ripping over his costume to reveal that he was stabbed in the abdomen.

Sam's eyes stay on yours, "y/n."

With tear filled eyes you look into his as you hold pressure on his stomach, "Stay with me Sam. I'm right here." You look up, "Where's Colby?"

"Let's just wait here.. give it a few minutes." Colby looks at Corey, "You need to let me lay one on you. You can't go in there looking like you weren't involved."

Corey sighs, "Don't fucking kill me."

Colby smirks and moves back, "Ready?"

Corey nods and Colby swings, connecting his fist to Corey's cheek bone and he bites down on his hand, muffling his yell, "Fuck."

"H-he was.. taking.. down the.. killer.. I don't.." Sam coughs and you rest your head against his, "It's okay. It's okay."

After waiting at the bottom of the steps for a little, Corey helps Colby up each step, still slightly dazed from Colby's punch.

Someone walks out, immediately helping Corey get Colby inside.

"Are the cops coming?" Sophie screams out, "Fucking hell."

"I found Colby." Corey says dragging him in with someone else, "Xander and Eli are dead."

Sophie stands up, "What the fuck did you just say?"

"Sophie." You groan as you take over holding pressure on Sam's wound, "You still with me?" You look at Sam and his breathing is quickened, "I'm.. always.. with you.."

"Corey set him down here. Is stabbed, too?" You motion for him to be set down next to Sam, "Colbs. Hey. Hey, you with us?"

"Fucker gashed my side.." he groans, "Busted up my face." Colby laughs slightly which quickly turns into wince, "He killed Xander and Eli was still breathing but.. I don't think... he made it.. I tried.."

"Cops are here!"

Everyone makes a path and officer Stevens comes rushing in, immediately calling for medical, "Y/n. Hey, tell me what happened."

You wipe your tears on the sleeve of your costume, keeping your hands on Sam, "I-I don't know." You start to sob, "Please help them."

He nods and lays a hand on your shoulder, "Not much longer, okay? Can you tell me what happened?"

"I-I was getting a drink.." you look down at Sam who's staring up at you, still breathing quickly, "And Sam came rushing in, all bloody and screaming." You hang your head down and shake your head.

"There two more out there, dead.. and we knocked the killer out, officer." Corey looks up at him and Stevens snaps his head, "Did you just- he's out there?"

Corey nods, "I went out, now I'm not going to lie, I went out to smoke weed eith them, and that's when I found Colby fighting with this guy in a black cape thing with a weird ass mask on. He had a knife and was swiping it at Colby. I freaked out, came up behind him and hit him on the head with a cinder block so he might be dead too honestly."

"Oh fuck, okay. Well good job, son." Stevens looks at Colby, "Are you hurt? I mean other than your face, are you stabbed?"

Colby groans, "He sliced my side up pretty good." Corey fixed his hands to keep pressure on his side, causing him to wince, "Fuck."

"It looks like this nightmare is over." He stands up, making his way past a screaming and crying Sophie who's being help back by two other people.

You look at Sam, "You're going to be okay." You run your hand over his blonde hair, painting it red, "Fuck, sorry."

"S'ok-ay." He rests his head back against the wall and closes his eyes.

"Sam. Sam. No no no no." You tap his cheek and he opens his eyes, "You gotta stay with me. You can't do that. Okay. Do you hear me? I need you to stay alive. Fight for me."

He nods slowly, "I lo-love y-you."

You lean in, gently kissing his lips, "I love you. I love you so so much. Please don't die on me."

"Medical!"

You look over your shoulder seeing two gurneys being wheeled in, "Ma'am, watch out." You stand up, moving backwards as other people lay their hands on you. Your eyes don't leave Sam as they work on him.

Colby's eyes are on you and you look at him. He gives you a quick wink and you shake your head, "You're going to be okay. I'll go to the hospital, I'll be there."

They wheel Sam out, then get Colby and take him out behind him..

"Do you need medical attention?" You shake your head, "No. no I'm okay." You walk over to Sophie, "I'm so sorry."

"It was Dave." She sobs, "Dave killed every one." She falls into you and you cry, "It's over. It's over Soph." She sobs, "Eli.. no." You slowly go down to the floor as she clings to you, sobbing.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so so so sorry." You stare at the wall, darkness creeping into you, you weren't sorry. Eli and Xander, well, they got their karma.

"Come on. We need to go to the hospital."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"This isn't going to be easy to hear, Ms. Y/l/n." Officer Stevens says sitting down infront of you.

Your mind instantly goes to Sam not making it. They took you from the hospital while Sam was in surgery, it wasn't major but it was still absolutely terrifying for you.

Colby on the other hand wasn't up talking, all he needed was a handful of stitches in both his face and side, but he's a tough guy, so he'll make it.

"Is Sam okay?" You ask leaning forward.

"Oh yeah, yeah. We just got word that he's out and being moved to recovery." Officer Stevens says, "So he's fine, but that's not why we brought you here."

You nod, nervously shaking your leg, "Okay."

"We found.. evidence.. a lot of evidence that you were Dave Tylers main target." He looks at you and you freeze, "What?"

"In his home, when my team searched it, we found multiple, and I mean pictures from when you were born all the way up until two days ago when you were at the Halloween store on Foster." He pauses and takes a deep breath, "There was also a detailed plan, to which I can only assume, was for kidnapping you."

You cover your face, "Oh my god."

Stevens continues, "He also had pictures of Sam, Colby, Nina, Levi, Noel, Henry, Sophie, Xander, Eli, and a few others that I'm sure he would have killed if it wasn't for what happened last night."

You could feel the vomit in your stomach working your way up so you run to the trash can, barely making it.

Stevens gets up, opening the door, "Can I get some water please? Thank you." He walks over, holding your hair back for you as you cough, "Oh my god."

"I know, I know. Just get it out." He rubs your back, "Are you alright?" You stand up, laughing slightly, "I-I guess. I mean how does one really react to hearing something like that?"

You wipe your mouth on the sleeve of your sweatshirt, your costume still underneath, "He.." you look up at Stevens, "I never liked being around him. That's why i moved.. to get away from him. He was everywhere I went I just.." tears well up in your eyes, "My dad trusted him."

Stevens nods, "I can only imagine the pain you feel right now. I just want to apologize for myself, personally. The day that Sam showed up at the store I was in with Dave.." he sighs, "He was bad mouthing Sam and Colby.. I defended them but I feel like I could have done more."

You shake your head, "Officer Stevens, you stood up for them and for me, that means a lot. You had no idea he was actually behind some plan to-" you lay your hand over your mouth, closing your eyes as tears fall down your cheeks.

Another officer brings in a water, handing it to Stevens who then hands it to you, "Here, sweetheart."

You take the water, "Thank you." You sniffle as you crack it open, washing out the puke taste, "I just.. I didn't ever think he would have done something like this."

Stevens nods, "Now, we are going to have to charge Sam, Colby, and Corey with possession of weed, but other than that, I hope that you all can move past this."

"Can I ask a question, and by all means you can tell me to get bent, but.." you look at him, "Did he admit to it? The murders?"

Stevens sighs, "Between you and me, he's saying that it was Sam and Colby, but I don't believe him. All the evidence points directly to him and honestly.." Stevens chuckles, "I told him that I don't think two YouTubers could pull off something this advanced, and I stand by that."

You laugh slightly, "That's ridiculous."

He nods, "That's exactly what I said." He shakes his head, "Do you have any more questions for?"

Noel pops into your head, "Did Noel actually kill herself?"

"Unfortunately, we can only really prove that her death was a suicide. There was no foul play detected."

You hold your breath, closing your eyes as you imagine her taking her own life, "That just.. isn't like her.."

"I'm sorry if that isn't what you wanted to hear." Stevens reaches over and lays a hand on yours, "If you need anything. And I mean anything at all, just let us know. We're so sorry we couldn't have stopped him sooner."

You nod, sniffling, "Can I just get a ride back to the hospital, I'd like to see Sam as soon as I can."

He nods, "Of course. I'll take you over myself."

He stands up and walks over to the door, you grab your water, shoving it in your hoodie pocket along with your hands and you follow him out to his squad car.

He opens the door for you and you slide in, buckling up as he walks around to get in.

"You good?" You look at him through the cage and nod, "Yep. Thank you."

He nods and takes you back to the hospital where you practically race through to get to Sam's room. You stop, seeing Sam and Colby in their beds next to each other.

"There she is." Sam's voice is raspy but being asleep for so long, "My little lifesaver."

You walk over, sitting on his bed, "You scared me." You run your hand through his hair and he closes his eyes.

"How did the questioning go?" Colby asks and you look over at him. Sam tilts his head up, "You went to the station?"

You nod, "Yeah, they had information for me and.." you laugh slightly, "I threw up over it."

"You.. wait, what did they say?" Colby tries to lean forward but groans.

You move to the chair in between them, "Well for ones you guys and Corey are getting a weed charge which is stupid in my opinion but that's not why I threw up."

You take a deep breath, cringing at the thought, "I guess Dave, as what officer Stevens said, had a shrine for me."

"A shrine?" Sam asks furrowing his brows, "What the fuck?"

You nod, "Yeah, I guess he had baby pictures of me and then ones of me at the Halloween store the other day."

"Sick fuck." Colby groans, "Why would he-"

"Oh just wait." You cut him off, "He also had pictures of Nina and Levi, Sophie and Eli, Noel and Henry, all of us, and a detailed plan to kidnap me basically. He said if it wasn't for what happened last night, there would probably be more bodies today."

"That's honestly so crazy to hear." Sam groans as he shifts around slightly, "I'm just glad you're okay."

"Me? I'm glad you guys are okay. You could have died fighting him off the way you did." A smirk plays with your lips and they both smile.

"We were just trying to protect our girl, I knew how much of a fuckface he was." Sam shakes his head, "He's lucky I didn't kill him right then and there."

You smile and lean over, "You just need to worry about getting better so I can thank my boys properly." You wink and lean back just as the nurse comes in to check on them.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

A few weeks go by of the boys recovering, and luckily they didn't suffer any major damages so they were back to their normal selves in no time.

You peak into the room, "How you doing?"

Sam turns around and smiles, "I'm alright, how are you?"

You nod, "I'm alright. I have a surprise for you." He raises his eyebrows, "Oh yeah?" You nod, "Yeah. Close your eyes."

Sam complies and you step in, wearing the cat woman costume that they never got to take off of you like you wanted them to.

Colby follows behind you, holding both him and Sam's ghostface masks in his hand.

"Open."

Sam opens his eyes and he looks from you to Colby, What the hell is this."

You walk over and gently drag the prop whip over his chest, "Just thought I'd thank you guys for putting your lives on the line for me." You lean down, gently pressing kisses along his neck.

"What's with those?" He asks pointing to Colby and you smile, "You guys looked so hot in those, I figured you could wear them while treating me like a helpless victim."

You've peaked Sam's interest, "Have we unlocked a new kink?" He turns his chair to you, "That's not surprising."

You smirk and sit on his lap, "You don't have to wear it the whole time, just until I rip it off of you."

"What did you say to me that night?" Colby walks up, handing Sam his mask, "Something about killing you?"

You smirk and look up at Colby, "I said, please don't kill me Mr. Ghostface. I wanna be in the sequel."

Colby smirks and looks at Sam.

"Alright." He taps your leg, "Go lay on the bed."

You get up, skipping to the bed quickly and laying on your stomach as you face them. Sam takes his mask from Colby and turn towards you.

You bite your lip, watching in awe at how in sync they really are. Without telling each other, they slip their masks on and walk over to you.

Sam stands infront of you, Colby moves to the other side, sliding his hands up and down your legs. You roll onto your back, "You wanna play psycho killer?"

Sam nods slowly, staring down at you as he smirks behind his mask.

You lick your lips, moving to to sit up on your knees, then resting back on your calves as you look at Colby, "Can I be the helpless victim?"

Colby nods slowly, smirking behind his mask.

Your voice is whiney as you pretend to beg, pulling Sam down infront of you, "Please don't kill me, Mr. Ghostface.." you pull Colby down next to Sam, "I wanna be in the sequel."

Colby chuckles and pushes you to lay back. You move your legs out and Colby pulls out a knife, two actually, and hands one to Sam.

Your heart skips a beat and you gasp as you feel the cool metal rest on your fishnet covered legs, "Are you going to hurt me?" You ask in that fake whimper tone, "I'd really like it if you did."

Colby's hand moves to your throat and squeezes. You let out a whimper and smile slowly up at him, "Harder."

His grip tightens and you let out a squeaked moan.

Sam takes his knife and cuts open your fishnets, one strand at a time. A shiver of excitement goes through your body each time the knife grazes your skin.

He gets to the crotch part of your costume, slicing through it with ease, exposing your bare pussy underneath.

Colby lets go, leaning back as he watches Sam slice up the costume, revealing your bare breasts.

Sam drags the knife down the center of your body, in between your boobs, and down your stomach. He presses the side of the blade against your clit and you gasp, "Fuck."

Sam's voice is low, "Such a bad, bad girl."

You nod, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, "uh huh."

"I think she deserves punishing." Sam looks over at Colby and he looks to Sam, "definitely."

They get up, taking their masks off to they can slip off their shirts.

You don't even have to tell them to put their masks back on, they just do it and go back to you. They move you so you're laying vertically on the bed. Your head is hanging off the bed and Sam works to undo his belt.

Colby's hand move to spread your legs and his fingers rub up and down your soaked and needy cunt.

You let out a moan as Colby sinks two fingers in, curling them as he drags the tip of the knife gently up your leg.

"F-fuck." You arch your back, squeezing his fingers, "Yes, yes yes."

Sam frees his cock and reaches down with his hand to tilt your head back. You comply and open your mouth, trying to relax for what was to come, but it was hard when Colby's fingers were pumping in and out of you.

"So close." You gasp, "Fuck, fuck."

Sam rubs the head of his against your tongue before sliding it in, moaning out lowly behind the mask, "Fuck."

You clench around Colby's fingers, moans muffled by Sam's cock.

Colby taps the knife against your clit, causing your legs to tense up each time. Your eyes roll back and your back lifts up off of the bed.

Sam pulls his cock out, letting you breathe and you moan loudly as you squeeze your thighs shut on Colby's arm, "fuck fuck fuck."

You relax your thighs and Sam brings his hands to knead your boobs and play with your nipples. Colby pulls his hand away, slipping his hand under his mask to taste you in his fingers.

He groans and rips his mask off, dropping down to press his mouth to your pussy, slipping his tongue in and gasp out, quickly followed by a moan, "F-Fuck."

You lay a hand on his hand but Sam takes it away, pinning it to the bed as he reinserts his cock into your mouth, pushing as far in as he can.

He thrusts his hips and you wrap your lips around the tip each time he pulls out.

Sam pulls his cock out dropping down to get face to face with you. You stare up at him, fighting to keep your eyes open as Colby devours you.

"Enjoy it, baby." Sam says lowly, "You look so fucking beautiful."

You reach up, taking the mask off of him and dropping it beside him. He smirks at you, "Does that feel good?" Sam picks up the knife and drags it up your arm to your shoulder.

You nod, whimpering out a quiet, "Yes."

"Louder." Sam commands as he presses the knife to your throat. Colby pins your hips down as he can tell you're getting closer again.

"Yes." You moan out loudly, "fuck, yes!"

"That a girl, let Colby know how good of a job he's doing." Sam leans down, kissing you as he drags the flat side against your neck.

He pulls away, standing up and moving to the end of the bed so he can watch Colby have his way with you.

Colby digs his fingers into you and you throw your legs over his shoulders, digging your heels into his back, "fuck fuck fuck." You say quickly as you look over at Sam.

He's standing there, arms crossed, moving the knife between his fingers as his eyes move up and down your body.

Colby groans against you, and your eyes roll back, orgasm taking control.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, screaming out as he continues to eat you out.

"C-col-colbs." You gasp out as your body twitches, "Fuck." He crawls up your body, attaching his lips to yours.

You make out as he rolls you over so you're straddling him. You sit up to find Sam behind you, his hand gently rests on your neck, "How bad do you want us?"

"So bad." You whimper out as you turn your head slightly, "So, so bad baby."

Colby sits up, placing his hands on your hips as he kisses your chest, "You're not scared of us?"

You look down at him and smile, "Not one bit."

"Why's that?" Colby tilts his head, "Why aren't you scared?"

You look at Colby and turn to look at Sam, "Because you killed for me."

"And we'd do it again." Sam turns your head and kisses you deeply. He runs the knife up your back and you shiver, "I like that."

"Us killing for you or the knife, baby?" Sam whispers and you smirk, "Both."

"Speaking of both.." Colby turns your head down to him, "How would you feel about taking us both?"

Sam leans in, kissing your neck, "At the same time."

You nod quickly, moaning as they kiss over your skin, leaving little bite marks all over.

"Lay down for me baby." Colby moves you off of him and you lay down, watching as they both strip away their pants and boxers.

Colby smirks as he grabs the mask, slipping it back on and pulls you towards him. He rubs the tip of his cock against you, "Beg."

You move your hips, but Colby pins them down and Sam lays next to you, whispering, "Not gunna work, baby. Beg like he said." He drags the knife under your boobs, biting his lip as he watches you.

Your breath hitches, "please.. please."

Colby shakes his head, "Louder."

You gasp as he slips the head of his cock in and stops, "Fuck, Colby please. Please!" You arch your back, moaning louder, "Please!"

He pushes his cock in, causing you to go almost silent. You gasp out quietly, "Fuck."

Sam leans in, taking your nipple into his mouth. He hums against your skin as his tongue flicks your nipple.

Your hand goes to Sam's hair, gently pulling as Colby thrusts slow and deep. You look up at him, keeping your eyes on the mask until they trail down his bare chest.

"Fuck." You whimper, "So fucking good."

Colby grips your thighs, picking up his speed which makes your eyes roll back, "Fuck, fuck. Yes! Yes!"

Sam kisses up to your lips, swallowing each of your moans with ease, "I need to be in you so fucking bad." He gets up and walks around to Colby.

Colby stops and pulls out, he takes his mask off and lays down next to you, "C'mere babe."

His hands find their place on your hips, guiding you as you sink back down into his cock, your moans mixing with his.

"Bend over." Sam pushes you forward so your face to face with Colby. You can feel Sam spit and rub his thumb over your ass.

You gasp as you feel him slip his thumb in, stretching you out a little.

"Relax, sweetheart." Sam lays a hand on your lower back as he pulls his thumb out and slips two fingers in, spreading them slightly, "Does that feel good?"

You nod quickly, "yes, yes fuck yes."

Colby lays a hand on your cheek, biting his lip as he stares up at you, "such a good girl."

You smile and flutter your eyes close as Sam pulls his fingers out, "Please." You grip the sheets by Colby's head, trying to stay relaxed as Sam spits more and rubs his cock against you.

"Eyes on me baby." Colby rubs your cheek gently, "you're going to look so fucking hot taking both of us."

You smile slightly as you look at him, biting down on your lip hard as Sam starts to push in.

You whimper slightly, pain mixing with the pleasure, "Fuck, fuck, oh fuck."

"Doing so fucking good, baby." Sam rubs your hip as he slowly thrusts in and out, "Fuck.. fuck.." Sam groans and tilts his head back, "You feel so fucking good."

Your head drops down onto Colby's shoulder, "Fuck, Colby. I need you to m-move."

Colby grips your hips and thrusts upward, matching the speed of Sam's.

You entered a whole new world of pleasure. Your head was spinning, "F-fuck." You lift your head up to plant your lips onto Colby's.

Sam groans, "you're gonna make me cum." He slows down his thrusts, "Fuck."

You whimper against Colby's lips, "You both make me feel so, so good."

Colby bites his lip, "I've been holding it off. I wanted to cum as soon as I put my cock in you."

"Cum with us, baby." Sam brings a hand down, slapping it against your ass cheek, "Hold it." You clenched around both of them, "F-fuck."

You wanted to cum so bad, the double pleasure makes your body feel weak.

Sam slowly starts to thrust, along with Colby, building up speed. Sam reaches up, grabbing a fistful of your hair and you moan, "S-Sam."

Colby lays there, watching your face twist with pleasure, "Sam. She's not going to be able to hold it much longer."

"Fuck, me either." Sam groans and picks up the pace, railing into you, same as Colby.

You scream out into the crook of Colby's neck, "Fuck, fuck, yes!"

"Almost there baby. Being such a good girl." Colby moans, "Just a little bit.. longer." He groans and tilts his head back, fingertips digging into your hips beside Sam's, "Fuck, you're incredible."

You can't hold it any longer. Your body shakes as you cum, clenching around both of their cocks at the same time. You were spinning again, unable to make words, just a constant string of whimpers and loud moans.

Colby was next to cum, Sam directly after.

You moaned loudly as you felt them both fill you completely, their moans mixing with yours as they come down.

"Shit." Sam sighs and rubs your lower back. Colby brushes hair from your face and kisses your cheek, rubbing your hips with his hands, "You okay?" He asks quietly and you nod, "Mhm."

Sam bites his lip, trying to pull out as quick as possible without hurting you. You whimper as he slips out, and bite your lip as you lift yourself off of Colby.

You lay next to him as Sam goes and starts the shower.

"Can you tell me about how you did it?"

Colby looks at you surprised, at first, but then he smirks, "If you really wanna know, yeah."

You nod and Sam comes back into the room. He looks at you and Colby, "What?" Colby chuckles and nods towards you, "She want to know."

Sam bites his lip and smirks, nodding towards the door, "Let's go then."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

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incognit0slut · 1 year

Text

Lock your door

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

All y/n wanted was for her coworker to pay attention to her. Spencer was more than happy to oblige. Based on;

cw: 18+ explicit sexual content, oral (f receiving), face sitting

wc: 3,9k (I'm a very descriptive writer you have been warned)

a/n: (reposted because of some error) I’m currently doing an ongoing series but once in a while, I like to write random plots, thus begins another series in which will all be one-shots based on songs i currently enjoy listening to… so yeah, this will be fun.

requests are open if you have a song in mind!

MASTERLIST

“…you better lock your door, and look at me a little more…”

Y/N WASN'T A SENTIMENTAL PERSON, but there was something about the way he looked tonight.

The fluorescent light coming from the hotel room danced across his face, highlighting the sharpness of his jaw. His eyes were in deep concentration as they scanned the document in his hand, his brows furrowed every time he came across something he couldn't comprehend.

Her eyes slowly raked down toward his Adam's apples, moving further across his chest, before they glided along the length of his arm. She couldn't help but notice the mesmerizing way his long fingers trailed along the words underneath his palm.

She always knew Spencer had nice, well-kept hands, but as she continued to observe them, she noticed how enticing they truly were. The size of them always surprised her, as well as the length of his fingers. But it was the veins running through the backs of his hands that really made her dry at the mouth, especially when the sleeves of his button-down shirt were folded above his wrists, showing off firm arms that didn't leave much to her imagination.

How long had she been staring at him? Gawking at him? It was hard to keep her eyes off of him when it was all she had been doing ever since she was introduced to the awkward twenty-four-year-old nerd that he was twelve years ago.

Twelve fucking years.

There should be some kind of reward for pining over your best friend for more than a decade. Y/n should be growing out of this yearning a long time ago yet somehow the more they worked together, the more it became hard for her to act as if every time his fingers innocently touched her skin there wasn’t this immense desire taking over her body, leaving her in a state of being completely swept away by the intensity of it.

Granted, Y/n knew she wasn't the only one attached to this infatuation. Words were never exchanged, although observing and analyzing people's behavior for a job helped her notice the exact same desire reflected in his eyes. She could tell in the way he looked at her, the way his pupils dilated every time he focused on her mouth.

But things between her and Spencer had always been complicated. Her early interest came unnoticed when the person he preferred to ask on a date was another one of their colleagues, and when he grew out of that brief crush and had the courage to finally ask her out, she was already in a relationship.

When that relationship ended begrudgingly and she needed a shoulder to cry on, Spencer's heart was already taken for a mysterious girl he guarded to himself. But that love affair only became a heartbreaking tragedy as it ended before it even began.

It was ever since then that Y/n made a mental note to never indulge her feelings toward one of the closest people in her life. She deemed it inappropriate after everything he'd been through, especially when he made it clear that getting involved with the opposite sex was the very last thing on his mind.

Until something shifted a few days ago.

She wasn't sure what it was. Perhaps it was the traveling into yet another foreign part of the country that made everything seem different, or maybe it was being in close proximity for more than forty-eight hours that had her watching him so earnestly.

But whatever it was, the sudden shift had her looking at the adorable young man he once was into this attractive, irresistible man she viewed as more than a mere friend. A man whose eyes glazed over her mouth this morning yet managed to be oblivious to how she was the one gawking at him now.

Maybe it was time to end their flirtatious dance. Maybe it was time to stop skirting along the what-ifs flowing in her mind. Y/n glanced at the man in front of her, watching the way his back hunched over the table as he buried himself further into deep concentration.

“Spence."

He hummed a soft response, his eyes still trailing the words printed on the document.

"Spencer."

He slightly tilted his head, an indication he was listening but kept himself busy as he continued his reading.

"Dr. Reid."

There was a certain cadence in her voice that sounded oddly pleasing. Spencer reacted to the low timbre of her voice with a glance, his eyes skimming along her leg which rested on top of the other, a glimpse of soft skin teasing his senses as the material of her dress lay softly against her thighs. His eyes snapped back to her face, noticing the lopsided smirk on her lips.

"What is it?"

"Aren't you going to take a break?" Her eyes shot toward the document in his hand. "You've been reading nonstop ever since I got here."

The latter statement was the one that caught his attention. "What's the reason you're here again?"

Y/n wondered whether explaining how she wanted to run her hands through his disheveled hair while he buried his face along her neck would be deemed appropriate. But she had too much pride to admit that. Instead, she uncrossed her legs with a satisfied glint in her eyes as she caught him staring.

She might not want to convey her attraction through words, but carrying out the art of seduction was a very different matter. Temptation had this alluring appeal that drew people in, a certain type of feeling that could often lead a person to do things they usually wouldn't do. And it was what she had in mind as she leaned over the table, the collar of her dress gracefully dropping with her movement, publicly displaying her cleavage.

"I thought you might need company," she simply said. "But I've been sitting here for almost an hour and you haven't engaged me in a conversation."

His eyes flared on the sensual way her breasts were pressed against her clothes before he quickly looked away. "Well, these documents aren't going to read for themselves."

She almost rolled her eyes at his response. "But aren't your eyes tired? Don't you want to take a break?"

He glanced at the stack of papers sitting on his side of the table. "I don't think that would be the wisest thing to do."

"Not even a five-minute break?"

"Especially a five-minute break."

She slumped in her chair as he diverted his attention back to his task, already engrossing himself in another document while ignoring the baffled look on her face. Was she looking at this differently? Was she wrong to think that some untold infatuation lingered between them all these years?

Y/n couldn't help but feel disappointed. Disheartened by the lack of attention, she abruptly stood up and moved along the carpet floor of his room. Her sudden movement caught him by surprise. "Where are you going?"

"Somewhere that might actually appreciate my presence."

She heard him heave out a sigh as he got up from his seat. "You know you're welcome here."

"Am I though?" She taunted, her hand already on the doorknob as she threw him a look over her shoulder. "You barely glanced at me, Spence."

"I was working. You know I need to find any potential evidence from all these files."

A sense of guilt washed over her as she watched him take a tentative step forward. "I know. I just... all I wanted was for you to look at me." Her guilt-ridden concern was replaced by embarrassment when he didn't respond. She quickly shook her head. "You know what? Never mind."

An immense feeling of shame and embarrassment traveled through her body as she turned around. What else was there to do than to flee from his scrutinizing gaze? Her hand gripped the doorknob before she pulled it, ready to fly out the room when a hand suddenly hovered over the edge of the door, softly pushing it back into place.

The sudden silence unnerved her, picking the pace of her heart when she realized she was very much flushed against his body. She could feel herself trembling as her grip slipped off the doorknob. She watched the way his long fingers glided down the hard surface of the door in intense interest.

His rough hand engulfed the lock on the door and she felt his other hand grasp her hair, slightly moving it away for better access to whatever he had in mind. His tone was quiet but undeniably gruff when he mumbled, “It's not that I don't want to look at you, Y/n.”

This was not how she had expected the night would go. Well, maybe it was what she had hoped for, but now that it was actually happening, she completely froze on the spot. She didn't know what to do, the gears in her head were moving to initiate a proper reaction but immediately came to a halt when his other hand banded around her waist as he pressed himself to her back, murmuring into the slope of her shoulders.

"But a five-minute break is not enough for me…”

His breath was hot on her neck.

“…to do..."

Her head lulled back as he pressed a kiss.

"…the things..."

Her skin shivered as he flicked his tongue.

"…I want to do to you."

She watched as he turned the lock back to its place, the sound a distinct echo in the room.

Everything went completely still. The air charged with an electric sense of excitement and nervousness, the type of charge that lead to anticipation. Spencer could feel the erratic pace of his heart as a surge of arousal rippled through his blood. It was definitely not a feeling he was used to, but it was very powerful and overwhelming in its intensity as he swiftly grabbed her arm.

Y/n let out an inaudible gasp when he turned her around, not because of the way her legs were stumbling by the impulsive contact, but by the sudden grip of his hand on her waist, steadying her momentarily in the midst of her trying to register what was happening.

"Spencer," his name a sigh from her lip. A hot spike raced through her body as if she had been struck by some force. Y/n took a shuddering breath, already knowing she would be helpless against the tingling wave he was building within her.

"What happened to your confidence?" He whispered with a coy smile.

She was growing dizzy, overwhelmed with the feeling of him everywhere, with how clear his intentions had become and how much she welcomed them. "I guess you've rendered me speechless."

And then his large hand cupped her whole face, tilting her up. His fingertips felt electric, for wherever they touched her skin tingled in a frenzy of static. She was mesmerized, captured by the spell he had on her.

There was a warm gust of air over her nose as he breathed out, "Are you sure?" His nose gently brushed against hers. "I'll stop if you tell me to."

Her fluttering eyes shot up at him. "Don't you fucking dare."

A satisfied smile curled on his lips as she waited for the moment to come, to explore every inch of his mouth. He finally pressed his parted lips on hers—and true to her imagination, his kiss was divine.

His lips felt soft and her mind went hazy when he started to move them. The push and pull of lips were exhilarating, the lazy mapping of their mouths molding together ascended the desire inside her. She exhaled a moan the moment he nibbled her bottom lip with a gentle brush of his tongue, her body burning with a new sense of need.

He gripped the base of her neck, keeping her locked to his mouth in their exchange of breaths, their tongues grazing, dancing, colliding with one another. And between her breathless moan of pleasure, he was making his own delightful noises, the various groans and growls coming from deep within his chest only made her beg for more.

Spencer slowly pulled away, eyes slamming shut as his forehead met hers, gasping for the much-needed air. "You," he growled under his ragged breath. "Taste better than I imagined."

Her head was spinning. How could he consume her so much? They were practically pressed against each other like hot glue yet she wondered whether there was any possible way to crawl under his skin. It wasn't enough, she craved more. More than his kiss. More than his tongue—she wanted more of him.

Y/n slightly pulled away, her hands skimming along his arms before they grasped onto the bottom hem of her dress, and without warning, she managed to pull the piece of clothing over her head with one swift motion.

Spencer stood there, utterly impressed and furthermore aroused. His eyes raked over her half-naked body with absolute adoration. "I see you've gained your confidence back."

She threw her dress to the floor. "Most of it anyway."

There was nothing more bewitching than her half-naked form, yet he wanted more of her, he needed to have her fully undressed in his arms. Spencer carefully grabbed her hand and guided her further into the room. He slowly dropped himself on the edge of his bed and parted his legs, gently slipping her between them.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his hands gliding along her skin. "Gorgeous, just absolutely gorgeous."

Her hands skimmed along his shoulders before she ran them through his tousled hair as she stood between the firmness of his legs, enjoying the pure admiration in his eyes. There was something mesmerizing in those hazel orbs, tantalizing her self-confidence as her fingers moved over to the front of her bra, unhooking the clasp before it slipped over her shoulders so effortlessly.

When she was finally free from the confinement of her undergarment, Spencer let out a satisfied sigh, because right in front of him were the most perfect breasts he could ever possibly imagine. His hand danced across her skin, feeling her body tremble underneath his palm as he let a thumb graze over her already hard nipple. The moan she let out was unbelievably exotic and there was nothing else he wanted to do than to hear more of it.

So he let his finger trail down her stomach before he grabbed the edges of her underwear and finally, but oh so slowly, pulled them down her smooth legs. Once they were off, he leisurely observed her nudity, his eyes sweeping over her wet flesh, flushed and swollen, the warmth radiating from her core made every part of him swell. He slowly guided a hand up her leg.

"Spencer," she breathed, clutching onto him even tighter. "Please."

His fingers brushed her inner thigh, so close to where she burned but not close enough for her to feel the satisfaction she desired. "Please what?"

She whimpered desperately. "Touch me."

"And where do you want me to touch you?"

"Everywhere."

What was a man to do when he was asked with such urgency? Such fervor? Spencer looked up at her and smiled, placing a gentle kiss between her breast before motioning her toward the bed. "Lay on your back."

She did as she was told and when she was finally on her back with him pressed to her side, Y/n shuddered at the touch of fabric from his clothes. There was something vulnerable about being the only one naked, yet somehow the roughness grazing her skin merely intensified her arousal.

She inhaled a sharp breath as she was met with a pair of hooded eyes looking down at her with undeniable lust. She felt electricity in her body, hormones shutting down her higher brain, and from there on in it was all passion, intense, intoxicating. He leaned forward, a hand unhesitatingly pushing her locks out of the way to expose her slender neck. His rapid breathing sent shivers down her spine, his lips almost brushing her ear as she closed her eyes.

Spencer trailed small kisses along her jawline, down to her throat, and pressed another kiss on the spot below her ear. She let out a satisfied moan as he sucked the spot leisurely, feeling herself shudder at his touch, sending her into another trance of delight.

She writhed at the electrifying touch of his fingertips and the thread of control that seemed to remain in him snapped as he lunged at her, pressing into her mouth. She gasped at the force and like the man he grew to be, he took that opportunity to slip his tongue, tasting every corner of her mouth. Her taste overwhelmed his senses as he devoured her, hands sliding in her hair, tugging at her, twisting and moving her to his liking.

Her scent was filling his nostrils, her delicate fragrance intoxicating his brain, pulling him even deeper into the spell she was casting on him. His smile was wicked against her lips as his hand engulfed her breast, feeling her shiver underneath him, her breath becoming rapid as she felt his thumb stroking her nipple.

Her aroused nub tightened at his touch, screaming, begging for his utmost attention. He gladly obliged her desire, his mouth trailing down her collarbone, letting his tongue brush along the curve of her breast before his lips hovered above her swollen peak, ravishing it into his mouth.

She arched her back, a moan escaping her lips as the sensation shot through her body, a thrill of arousal pooling in the heat of her core. He pulled away for a moment before ravishing her other peak, gently tugging it with his teeth before sinking in her flesh with the heat of his mouth.

"Beautiful," he murmured to no one but himself as his eyes took in the sight of her naked chest. His tongue flickered out teasingly on her hardening nub before he looked straight into her eyes. "You're so beautiful."

Then his finger continued its teasing brush, gliding along her skin as she writhed uncontrollably, waiting for him to touch the place she desired the most. It was torture. Evil, wicked torture as he leisurely took his time into taunting her that she let out a frustrated sigh.

"Spencer..."

He smiled amusedly, feigning innocence. "What?"

Y/n was never one to beg. Her job taught her to stand her ground and to be resilient whenever she had to face any type of obstacle. But right now, as his touch burned her skin in ways she never thought possible, she really didn't care.

"Baby, please..."

The unexpected term of endearment sent a sensational thrill along his body before a satisfied grin stretched across his lips. "Now how can I say no to that?"

This time when his hand slipped lower, she slowly suck in an anticipatory breath through her teeth that she held until his fingers swiped achingly light over her slit. She let out an audible gasp when she felt the pressure of his fingers over her, teasing her ever so slightly as her eyes rolled at the back of her head. He ran his fingers between her folds, making her flinch at the sensitivity and without warning, without mercy, they plunge into her.

A heavy tide of delight hit her, tension snapping inside. Strong waves emanate from her core, ecstasy racing through every inch of her body as his fingers swelled inside her wetness, moving at a rapid yet lazy pace. Her hips bucked against his fingers, following every movement they made as they stretched inside her, building the most sensational feeling throughout her body.

She closed her eyes, ready to simply enjoy the thrilling pleasure he was bringing to her when he suddenly pulled his fingers out and she whimpered at the loss. He dragged his tongue along his lips before lying on his back, pulling her along with me. "Come here."

She followed him, her legs on either of his side when he motioned her to move forward. "No," he hissed. There was a sudden shyness in his demeanor but his eyes reflected an immense amount of determination. "Sit on my face."

She gaped at him.

Never in a million years did she ever imagine those words to come out from his lips. If anyone told her that Spencer Reid, a certified genius with an IQ of 187, would ask her to sit on his face, she would've laughed. Yet here she was, crawling over him as he proved to her how lewd he could actually be.

Y/n felt the heat creeping along her cheeks as she settled on top of him, but his reassuring smile threw away any doubt she had in mind. He softly kissed her inner thigh before she lowered herself. She gripped the bed frame in front of her while his tongue flickered between her slit, and hooked his arms around her thighs, holding her in place as he devoured her hot flesh like a man starved.

Oh, fuck.

She must have said that out loud as she felt the vibration of his laughter on her skin. She faintly looked down at him and found his eyes boring into hers, watching her intently as he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked hungrily. The view was making her dizzy. The way his eyes bore into her own as his tongue wrapped around her wetness made her grind her hips, seeking more of the fraction.

He gave a long, languorous stroke with the flat of his tongue and sucked her into his mouth, tugging ever so slightly she could feel the pull in her throbbing clit. Then he spread his mouth wide over that sensitive nub and sucked even harder, a sudden stabbing sensation making her cry in pleasure. Her whimpers and moans grew louder as the coil in her stomach tightened, his tongue moving faster while he felt her clenching around his mouth.

Y/n could hear how wet she was as he worked her sex relentlessly. The cadence of his tongue was making her delirious. The warm, delicious tingle radiating from his touch was flooding over her that she knew she was approaching the end. His growl rumbled against her wetness as she spasmed, her face a mess of sweat and tears as he lapped up her folds, his tongue sliding into her and pressing on the walls.

And then she shattered—breathlessly, tiredly, heavenly. Her toes curled as she screamed out his name, releasing her grip on the bed frame before burying them in his tousled hair; pulling, grabbing, then throwing herself back as the intensity of the feeling rushed in her blood. She let out a sob as he eased her through her orgasm, rubbing her thighs while they shook around his head.

Her mind went completely blank a few minutes later. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t speak. She merely notice her body shaking with satisfaction as he carefully helped her down, settling her naked body on top of his. The gentle sound of his breathing filled her ears as she felt soothing hands running over her.

They stayed like that, drenched in her sweat with her head on his chest and her legs draped over him. Then after a moment of relishing each other's presence, his deep voice cut through the silence. "You're amazing."

She finally had the will to lift her head up and laughed. "Shouldn't I be the one saying that?"

The indicated compliment made him smile. Silence engulfed them and at that moment it seemed as if there were a lot of things to be said, but somehow neither wanted to initiate the conversation. He pulled her closer and she leaned in his embrace—then his phone rang suddenly before she could even relax.

She groaned. "How much do you want to bet that that's Garcia?"

"Or Hotch." Spencer's hand glided down her back. "We should probably see what they want."

"We should."

But they didn't move and his phone suddenly stopped its chime. Their peace was once again interrupted by another call that came from her phone this time. Y/n let out a sigh. "We should really go."

He nodded, but before she peeled herself off, her eyes cautiously narrowed on him. She could practically feel the blood and adrenaline pumping and coursing through her vein as a rush of hesitation enveloped her. "Can we... finish this later?"

But then her heart brimmed with affection at how his smile lit up, a wide, radiant grin that pierced her skin and traveled straight to her soul. And there he was, underneath the mature lines swept across his handsome face was the adorable man her heart had always ached for.

"Oh, absolutely," he spoke, his fingers trailing over her naked flesh. "We'll definitely finish this later."

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

Text

Adopt a Jock Part One / Part Two / Part Three PART FOUR YOU ARE HERE Part five

As always I own my entire soul to @chalkysgarbagefire

Steve didn't show up to lunch that Monday.

This was a problem, because Gareth and Eddie had carefully prepared the entirety of Hellfire to help make Steve play a D&D one-shot.

(Well, mostly Eddie--and he'd left out the parts about how the entire goal was to acclimate Harrington to hugs and high fives.

Gareth assumed that was a more careful conversation they'd all have later, outside of school grounds.)

"Eds, if you jiggle your legs any harder the table is going to take flight." Gareth complained, scooting away before he got jabbed in the gut.

"Where is he!?" Eddie muttered, glancing at his watch for what had to be the twenty-fifth time. “Are we sure he showed up to class this morning?"

Stewart, the only person to share a class with Harrington, gave their leader an exasperated look. "Yes, I’m sure."

He flicked his spoon, pointing it towards Eddie. "And yes he looked fine, yes, everything seemed normal, no I don't know why he's not here and no, no one fucking abducted him, or threatened him, or any of the other crazy excuses you keep coming up with!”

Eddie’s frown deepened as Gareth and Grant traded concerned glances.

"Maybe he just didn't want to sit with us today." Jeff remarked, approaching the topic with the same care a technician had when approaching a live bomb.

Gareth thought it was a smart move, considering Eddie looked like he was about to rocket into the ceiling.

"He's sat with us everyday, why would he change now?" Eddie argued.

"Maybe there's a basketball thing happening. Or he's saying hi to his jock buddies." Gareth tried, using the same cautious tone Jeff had.

"We’re his friends!" Eddie snapped, looking two seconds away from losing his shit entirely.

Almost unconsciously, Gareth and Jeff both raised a hand almost to try and help calm him.

Like he was a wild horse and they were the preteen girls in the movies determined to establish a bond before he killed their grandpa or some shit.

This was what happened when one deviated from a predetermined Munson-made plan. Not that Steve had known that of course, but then, he wasn’t exactly catching the fallout, was he?

‘I am making Harrington buy lunch after this.’ Gareth thought, as Eddie returned to bouncing both his legs almost frantically. ‘From someplace expensive.’

"Maybe Hargrove ate him." Grant suggested, as if the very thought of Billy Hargrove wouldn’t set Eddie off on a rampage.

"I could see it." Stewart agreed. "Dude has cannibal vibes."

"Not. Helping." Jeff hissed, his palm still in the air and hovering vaguely over Eddie’s shoulder.

Sure enough, Eddie’s entire body tensed at the mere mention of Hawkin High’s new King. "That’s it. We’re going to find him.”

“Have fun.” Tiff said, waving him off.

Eddie glared. “We’re all going.” He practically spat.

With a put upon sigh, Tiff set her food down. "You really want to spend the rest of our lunch period stalking around the hallways looking for Harrington?"

Eddie gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles went white.

"Yes Tiff, I do." He said, a manic gleam in his eyes.

He shoved up from the table, striking the kind of pose he often used during his rants. “This is a break in a pattern of behavior. A veer from an established path! This is the very first sign in every horror movie that something is wrong!”

He went to put his foot up on the edge of the table, like a pirate captain looking to the seas ahead, but instead missed it entirely and fell forward.

Eddie flailed for a moment, before managing to catch himself on the edge of the table. Instantly he began acting like he’d intended to fall like that from the start.

“I refuse to let any of us behave like idiotic, stupid, horror movie characters.” He finished dramatically, hair hanging in his face.

“You’ve been watching that Sherlock Holmes show again, haven’t you?.” Jeff asked him flatly.

“Among other things.” Gareth muttered, because as usual, he was the one who’d been watching said shows and movies with Eddie.

Not that it bothered him any, just that it meant he got to watch his best friend adopt new behaviors in real time.

Eddie flew back up, flinging his hair out of his face with a dramatic toss of his head.

“Come on my Watson’s! Let’s go find Harrington. I have a one-shot to pitch dammit!” Eddie outright yelled, flinging his arm skyward once again.

He got several startled glances in the cafeteria for it, but as used to Eddie as they all were, no one bothered to say anything to him.

“Why the fuck would we all be Watson?” Stewart muttered as he stood.

“I agree. Obviously, I’d be Watson.” Gareth said, also getting to his feet. “You’d be Mrs. Hudson.”

“Oh fuck you, I would at least be the other crazy smart dude.”

“Mycroft or Moriarty?”

“Mycroft.” Grant and Jeff chanted as one, the both of them putting their food away.

“Not one of you is any Sherlock Holmes character. Except maybe the dog.” Tiff cut in with an eye roll as she finally gave in and stood herself. "Now come on, let's go take Eddie for a walk."

Said metalhead flipped her the bird, but otherwise didn't protest.

(Probably because this wasn't the first time they'd had to do laps with Eddie.)

xXx

"Maybe he just went home." Gareth said reasonably some fifteen or so minutes later.

They'd made their way through the school, Eddie obnoxiously bursting through all the bathroom doors to loudly (and embarrassingly) yell for Steve.

They hadn't seen hide nor perfectly shaped hair of their wayward jock, and none of them were looking forward to trapezing around the outside of the school to hunt for him.

Thankfully, they didn't have to.

"Wait.” Tiffany asked, as they passed by the small little hallway leading to the art and photography rooms. “Is that Steve?"

Immediately all heads turned towards the direction she had pointed in.

"I think so?" Jeff guessed, eyeing the guy standing in the hallway down from them.

Gareth squinted, trying to get a better look. "Looks like." He agreed. "Also looks like Tiff was right, he is hanging out with other people."

Eddie tensed at that. A true feat, Gareth thought, because he was already wound so tight he looked in danger of snapping in half.

"Fucking useless." Tiff muttered.

Louder, she said; "Let's try that again. Isn't that our idiot jock with his ex-girlfriend and the guy she supposedly cheated on him with?"

The lot of them watched as Steve stood in one of his classic defensive positions (arms tucked into his sides, back rigid and chin down, like he was about to perform some kind of football tackle.)

Nancy Wheeler faced him, her own chin raised and her arms crossed like she was about to give the lecture of a lifetime.

In between them stood Jonathan Byers, though he was angled more towards his girlfriend than Steve. The guy practically radiated discomfort but seemed to be managing.

Even if his shoulders were practically above his ears.

It didn't exactly look like a two on one situation, but then it didn't not look like it either.

"Shit." Gareth said, which summed up the situation rather nicely.

"Should we go save him?" Grant asked, concerned.

Not one person moved.

Instead, all eyes went to their fearless leader--who was uncharacteristically silent.

Gareth took in the narrowed, frantic-turned-furious look upon his friend's face and wondered vaguely if he was going to have to stop a murder today.

Possibly two, depending on Byer’s involvement.

"Defensive position boys!" Tiffany called out, breaking the spell with sheer volume as she made the decision for them. "Eddie, you with us or not?"

Brave words for her, considering Gareth knew damn well that Tiff was often more bark than bite.

Thankfully, it worked.

"Right!" Eddie barked, jerking in place as he came back to himself. "Our Stevie needs us, men and Tiff!"

He pointed forwards, like a war general leading a charge. "Hellfire, move out!"

Fanning out into a triangle behind their club president, the lot of them followed as Eddie marched forward.

"You know I didn't mean it like that." Nancy was saying, and even though Gareth didn't know her he could tell she was frustrated.

"You have people you can talk to. You have m--" she cut herself off when Eddie strode up next to Steve.

Then blinked rapidly, reminding Gareth of a startled cocker spaniel when the rest of Hellfire fanned out around Harrington like wolves guarding their young.

(Or brightly colored and very angry ducks, but wolves sounded cooler.

Plus the last time he'd said something like this aloud; Grant had loudly informed him it was actually Muskox that made protective circles, Stewart brought up that triceratops were cooler, Jeff decided they should be bees and Tiffany had gone off on a tangent about badly done animal behavioral studies.)

"I daresay I agree!" Eddie said, taking a dramatic leap forward and startling Steve and Byers both.

That alone was a cause to worry--Gareth couldn't recall a single time Steve wasn't hyper-aware of his surroundings enough to get properly lost in it.

At least lost enough that he missed an entire group of people approaching.

"Steve is more than welcome to talk to people! His people." Eddie leaned forward a touch, the smirk on his face the one he used when he was playing up his role as the town's satanist cult leader.

To her credit, Nancy recovered remarkably fast. "I take it you believe that's you?"

Eddie reared back, like a cobra rising to strike. "Why Nancy Wheeler, Stevie here is an adult and can choose who he wants to talk to.”

He turned, one hand over his heart and the other held out to Steve. " Ain’t that right, big boy?”

Nancy and Byers both just stared.

Gareth couldn’t blame them, he was staring too.

Apparently deciding Eddie was too ridiculous to deal with, Nancy returned instead to talking to Steve--who, Gareth noted with more than his fair share of pride, looked a bit more grounded now that Hellfire had arrived.

“I understand that we’re in a weird place right now, but you have to know I still care about you, right?” Nancy bit her lip, clearly unhappy to have an audience but plowing ahead anyway.

"I'm fine, Nance.” Steve told her, voice steady, but growing flat.

He was shutting down--shutting her out, if not everyone out. Gareth knew, if only because he’d watched Harrington do it to them more than once.

(Knew because he himself had shut downs just like this. Eddie and Nancy were the kind of people who got loud in their anger, demanding people see and face them.

Gareth on the other hand, even with his more explosive temper, often ended up more like Steve when faced with breakdowns with people he cared about. He didn’t want to hurt them. To say the wrong thing, to lash out when someone was just trying to help.

It was safer to shut up, back away and put some distance between yourself and whoever had pissed you off.)

Either Nancy wasn’t aware of that or was too deep into her own emotions to see it, because she took a half step forward. “I know you’re not fine. I know you, Steve.”

“Not anymore you don’t.” Steve responded, and Gareth wondered if he realized he was leaning away from her--and towards Eddie.

Considering the way Wheeler’s eyes bounced between them, he knew she definitely had.

Quite possible Byers too, from how he had to stop himself from pulling Nancy away.

“I’ve been working hard to become someone else.” Steve added. “So you don’t have to feel responsible for me. I’m not your problem anymore.” He spoke without malice, just with the pure emptiness of someone who completely believed everything he said.

“Steve-” Nancy protested, but Eddie cut her off.

"You heard him." He said, peacocking his little social win in a way only Eddie could. "Now if you don't mind, I have extremely important things to discuss and you have cut drastically into my time."

He flicked his fingers in a shoo gesture, one that made Nancy's eyes spark in a way that quite frankly, terrified Gareth.

"Fine." She grit out through clenched teeth. "You know I’m always available to talk, Steve."

She strode off, passing Steve and the rest of Hellfire without a glance backwards.

"Sorry man." Jonathan muttered apologetically to Steve as he passed, following after his girlfriend.

Steve waved him off.

"Well she's just a delight." Jeff muttered, once Nancy was well out of hearing range.

Steve's entire chest heaved in a sigh, swaying slightly backwards as if the entire confrontation had physically drained him.

"She's trying to help.” Steve muttered softly, scrubbing a hand down his face. “She's just...coming at it wrong."

He turned, seeming to finally notice that all of Hellfire was there. "What are you all doing out here anyway?"

"Rescuing you." Grant informed him.

"From Nancy and Jonathan?" Steve said in disbelief.

Like Byers hadn't supposedly kicked his ass already. Nevermind the moping Wheeler had caused.

(The entire school had witnessed the moping.

It was, after all, part of what had drawn Eddie to Steve.)

"Yes." Tiff replied bluntly. “Also if she corners you like that again, I will make it my personal mission in life to top all her test scores.”

"I--okay." Steve blinked rapidly, clearly unsure of how to process that.

“Not that I needed rescuing,” He continued after a moment, staring at the whole group. “But why were you looking for me in the first place?”

His voice was slowly recovering, coming out of that weird flatness it had scrunched itself into. It was an excellent sign, a sign of trust, and Gareth leapt to keep it before someone could say something stupid and fuck it up.

"Eddie needed you to pitch his next one shot idea and couldn't wait for you to show up." Gareth admitted. “We decided to hunt you down since you were missing lunch.”

“Oh.” Steve blinked again, and though it’d be concerning on anyone else, the guy just looked like a lost puppy. “I’m sorry man.”

“It's alright Stevie. I just thought you'd totally ditched us.” Eddie sniffed dramatically, looking like he was going to wing an arm around Steve’s shoulder but thought better of it. “No biggie.”

He pouted, and made absolutely sure Steve could see him do it.

“Is this you trying to get more of my M&M brownies?” Steve asked after a moment.

“Oh my dear, sweet, athletic friend. Not at all. Instead, you are going to play the one shot I worked so hard on.” Eddie bounced his shoulder into him as he spoke.

It was a weird little compromise the two of them seemed to have, since Gareth had regularly witnessed Eddie ping-ponging off Steve’s shoulders. “Let us break your tabletop cherry.”

“Or what?” Steve asked, the tiniest bit of humor peaking through.

Eddie stared at him, abruptly still and completely serious. “I will cry, Steven. Loudly.”

It brought a small smile to Steve’s face.

“Fine. I’ll play your dumb dweeb game.” He said, and couldn’t seem to stop the smile from overtaking his face when Eddie threw his arms in the air and cheered.

“Come on, I’m pretty sure the bell rang forever ago.” Jeff said, as they began to venture out back to the main hallway.

(“Hey guys?” Steve asked, right before they all split up to go to their various classes. “Thanks. For the save.”

Eddie positively beamed. “Anytime, Steve. Anytime.”)

xXx

“Hey Gareth?” Steve asked a few days later, joining Gareth in the library during his free period.

(Gareth himself was skipping, because if he had to listen to yet another lesson on the Crucible he was going to declare himself a satan worshiping witch and demand to be hanged.)

Gareth hummed to show he heard, as he carefully took stock of the loot he’d gotten from their last game. Eddie had been pretty good about it for once, and he wanted to look things over before the one shot.

“Can I ask kind of a weird question?” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“Shoot, Stevie.” Gareth replied, finally comfortable enough to use the main nickname Eddie had nailed the poor guy with.

“Did Eddie give me a character with bad eyesight or “night vision” or whatever, because he thinks I have bad eyesight?” Steve’s fingers made sassy little air quotations around “night vision” because he knew damn well it wasn’t called that and didn’t want to get chewed out.

It was appreciated, even if it was cheeky as shit.

Gareth stopped writing. “Why’d you think that?”

“He just keeps acting like I’m my character.” Steve replied with a shrug. “Like all that stuff we planned about how my character gets around and relies on the group since he can’t see that great in the daylight? He does it for me too.”

“It’s Eddie, he’s eccentric.” Gareth struggled to keep a straight face, trying not to give the game away.

Laughing would absolutely clue Steve in to the fact that Eddie was doing it on purpose.

“He just keeps telling me before he touches me. Outside of the game.” Steve continued, utterly baffled.

Of course, Eddie was doing far more than that, in order to keep up the appearance that he was just being a weirdo who was too into his game. (Instead of trying to alert Steve to the fact he was going to lean on him, hug him, or do any other thing involving skin to skin contact that usually made Harrington panic.)

“If you don’t like it you should tell him,” Gareth said. He knew it was the better option, encouraging Steve to communicate. They could come up with something else if this was too weird (as frankly, many of Eddie’s plans could be.

Bless the guy but he had a habit of going for the dramatic over the practical.)

“No!” Steve protested, far too quickly.

He cleared his throat with a cough, and continued in a much calmer voice, “No, I don’t wanna ruin his fun or anything.”

As far as excuses go for letting something happen it was a weak one, but Gareth wasn’t going to call him on it. If Steve wanted to hide behind Eddie and his “fun” then Gareth would happily pretend to buy it.

Would buy whatever excuse Steve needed, to help make the guy feel more comfortable and like himself than the still often vacant ghost that hung around now.

“Just wanted to know if he actually thought my eyesight sucked.” Steve finished in a mumble.

“Well you did trip over the curb that one time.” Gareth teased playfully, and shot a grin at Harrington when that awkward look of his melted into something more offended.

“I was walking backwards!” Steve defended, his normal, almost bitchy tone returning.

“Uh-huh. And what about when you almost ate shit over that garbage can and Eddie had to save you?” Gareth taunted.

He grinned, watching as a blush overtook the older boys face, Steve glancing away frantically and--

Oh.

Oh!

'Oh-ho, ho, ho!' Gareth thought with absolute glee. The entire fucking school knew what Steve looked like when he had a crush, (Steve himself had made sure of that with Nancy) and Gareth recognized the beginning of it happening all over again.

Steve Harrington had a crush.

On Eddie.

Gareth could work with this.

“You know….” He paused, grin turning sly as a sudden idea came to him. “If you want to mess with Eddie a little bit I have an idea.”

Steve stared at him, confused. “Why would we want to mess with him?”

Gareth leaned forward. “Because pranks are fun, Harrington. Legend has it you even used to do them.”

Steve still didn't look convinced, but the nice thing about a man like Steve was that all Gareth had to appeal to was his sense of adventure.

“Now." He clapped his hands together in a move that had very much been stolen years ago from Eddie. "How good are your acting skills?

Meant to post this yesterday but I got surprise laid off last week and that pushed me back a bit, sorries! Absolutely related, I have a Ko-Fi now lmao. It’s https://ko-fi.com/sp0o0kyghosthost

Unemployment should go through just fine so I don’t really think I need to full panic but hey if you wanna throw me a dollar and yell “Dance writer dance!” I’ll do a lil tippy-tap jig.

#fucking jobs #this ones a bit more whumpy #steddie #pre steddie #they gettin there though #hellfire adopts Steve #adopt a jock #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth emerson #Nancys in this one #she cares theres just a lot of hurt there #Eddie on the other hand is JEALOUS #that is HIS jock thank you!#He is REHABBING that jock!#dont you make his Stevie sad!#Gareth is now playing matchmaker #Lap Wars is coming

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trashmouth-richie · 7 months

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𝔩𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔥: 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔤

𓆙 crazy! lilith! reader x eddie

𓆙 same au as this that will now be referred to as the lilith au

𓆙 summary: the beginning of how eddie met lilith. based on this ask from @serasvictoria “Loved Lilith crazy reader (so good!) and I’d like to read about the moment where Eddie first went “fuck, I’m into this.”” hope i did you proud 🥹💋 i like to think eddie met her and couldn’t stop thinking about her.

𓆙 tw: 18 + only, smut p in v unprotected, violence, blood, demon themes, soul mates connecting. nicknames, weed, drinking mentioned. both eddie and reader are over 18. Billy makes an appearance 🙄

𓆙 3.9k words

The bar stunk like it always did. BO seeping out from the uniforms of the guys fresh from their shift at the plant mixed with spilled keg beer. The stench wafted through the dank air creating a reeking stench that was custom for the Hideout, keeping the well lined pockets of Hawkins rich away from the hole-in-the-wall bar.

Eddie was in a mood tonight, and his friends could feel it. By nature, he was accustomed to breaking up fights with the drunks, offering whatever asshole with a clenched fist a joint if they would just leave it be. The Hideout was like a home to him, and he hated any sort of disturbance to the small peace the shitty bar had to offer.

But tonight? He didn’t know he would be the one to start a fight, especially not after seeing you walk through the front doors.

He had seen you there before. Always dressed like you deserved to be somewhere better, somewhere that didn’t smell like armpits and unwashed balls. Lips painted in a deep color but from the shitty lighting he never could tell if it was purple or black.

He watched from a distance as you shrugged off one piss drunk guy after another, each leaving with their tails tucked between their legs, muttering shit like crazy bitch, she’s fucking insane did’ya hear what she said to me? Eddie stood by and laughed, admiring the mysterious girl who wouldn’t give anyone a chance.

Setting up equipment last week Eddie’s eyes were trained on the time, having it down to a science on when you’d show up, and there you were. Rolling your eyes to the catcalls from the old timers and going straight to the bar, a glinted smile on your lips as you purred your order, one he had already memorized from watching you show up week after week. Eddie leaned back and hollered to Jeff, asking if he knew who you were.

Jeff said what he thought your name was, claiming you worked with his sister at the Hideaway, the diner that served beer and home style food, you were a senior maybe? But neither of them had seen you around before.

You were a mystery to him, and he was hooked. He looked for you in classes, down the orange and green brick painted hallways. Fuck, he even went to the Hideaway but could never find you there. It was almost as if you only existed in his dreams or at the Hideout.

Corroded Coffin wasn’t performing tonight, instead the four guys leaned over the sticky table in the back corner, their table, tossing quarters into a shot glass and shooting the shit. Well three of the four were having a good time, the other was quiet, brooding behind dark eyes.

You had walked in like you always did, 10 o’clock on the dot, only this time you weren’t alone.

Billy Hargrove? Really?

Eddie couldn’t help but roll his eyes, how fucking cliche could you be? Finding the first swinging dick in Hawkins with a loud car and immediately going on a date with him. Eddie was disgusted, but more so, jealous.

Hours ticked by, and beer after beer, one gut rot shot after another, Eddie’s jealousy brewed into pure hatred. His dark eyes bored into you, but you didn’t even notice.

He hated you. Hated your stupid smile, the way you kept giggling at Billy’s jokes. just wait til you see him naked, sweetheart, the laughing won’t stop there, he thought to himself.

Loathing the way your black painted nails curled into Billy’s denim jacket, no doubt he probably fed you a line about how he works out. Eddie’s eyes roll back again and he breathes heavily through his nose, sucking the last shot of whiskey through his teeth, letting the bitter taste melt on his tongue and burn with each fiery drop down his throat.

Trying to keep himself busy, he finds himself flicking open his switchblade, pressing the top of the blade into the black leather cushion, wishing it was Billy’s neck instead. He can’t hear what anyone is saying behind him, didn’t even notice that Gareth was talking about learning a new song. His full attention was on you.

Billy gets up from his bar stool, the noise from the drag of the legs on the floor scratches against Eddie’s skin, adding insult to injury. He shoots you a wink and makes his way to the back towards the bathroom.

Watching him disappear into the dark lit corner, Eddie stands on wobblier legs than he would have liked. Boots heavy and clunky as he stalks his way over to you. Not at all knowing what he was going to do or say, going on pure adrenaline.

Your perfume hits him first, a warm note of vanilla mixed with a tobacco hint of camels. The red top you’re wearing is cut low, showcasing your pretty neck and plunging deep into the cleavage of your tits. A black leather jacket sits on your shoulders, the zippers shining with the warm light.

Your eyelashes bat at him as he approaches your table, but you still don’t look his way, and he stands next to you like he’s known you for years, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

“I’ll take another one of these,” you say, pushing your empty glass towards him with your middle finger, “make it a strong one.”

“I don’t work here,” Eddie scoffs, moving your drink out of his way and placing an arm on the back of your chair, glaring down at you “but you already knew that.”

The air shifts when you look up at him, it’s heavier, thicker than peanut butter, and you almost choke at the way his Adam's apple bobs in his throat.

“What makes you think I would know that?”

Eddie shifts, the liquor on his breath is spicy and warm.

“Because I've seen you here before, and not once have you ordered a drink from me.”

A wicked grin coaxes its way to your lips and you cross your legs, the toe of your high heel touching Eddie’s knee, and you lean your elbow on the table closer into him.

“Stalking me big boy?”

“And if I was?” his voice is low, the ends of his hair sway as he dips into your space, eyes never leaving yours, making sure he was all you could see as he whispers, “something tells me you wouldn’t mind that.”

The toe of your shoe grazes his inner thigh and the tip of something hard, making the corner of your lip tease up as you pluck the stem of the cherry from your empty drink. Bringing it to your mouth, you never stop looking into his eyes, and his haven’t left yours either.

The flesh of the cherry breached your lips and you lick the bottom of it, humming at the taste of the grenadine and sour whiskey on your tongue, finally biting the cherry, you toss the stem behind you. Chewing softly on the sugary fruit and leaning back, Eddie’s eyes taking you in.

His ringed hand crawls up your stocking clad thigh, circling your soft skin, rubbing at the hem of your skirt.

“am I right, sweetheart?”

He doesn’t need you to say he’s correct because he already knows, your eyes speak for you, a dark glint to them, dripping with want, and he wouldn’t doubt if you were to open your legs that your panties would wet with a sweet heat he desperately needed to taste.

“You’re pretty cocky for a guy who’s been staring at me for months but has never said a word until tonight.”

It's Eddie's turn for silence when your pretty nails reach out to trace the handcuffs on his belt, shifting your legs so the left is now crossed over the right, each taking more and more from one another waiting for the first to break.

“Why tonight? hmm?” your nails rubbing against the metal and leather, thumb grazing his zippered crotch, getting a devil hint of what he has hiding beneath. “Didn’t like seeing me with someone else? Already putting your claim on me, huh?”

He didn’t need to answer because you already knew.

The first time you laid eyes on him he was playing the solo to Master of Puppets, the cold air seeped into your bones from your walk from the Hideaway, and you needed a drink after your shitty shift.

Your eyes met and it was instant, a primal heat that drew you in and kept you coming back, waiting impatiently. Watching from afar calculating his moves, the way he held himself so confidently, his lithe muscles rippling when carrying band equipment from the stage. The way his throat vibrated when he sang, the quick jerk of his fingers as they strummed each key. How sweaty his hair would get after his set, shit you were infatuated.

He dips low to you again, a hand landing on your hip, sending shivers to your spine.

“You’re lost, sweetheart.”

Confused, you look up at him, quirking an eyebrow, challenging him, “lost?”

His fingers squeeze gently at your hip, his other hand moving your chin so you can look at him directly, his thumb moving over your bottom lip, pulling it down and almost groaning as it pops back into place against your teeth, “yeah, you’re supposed to be with me.”

“Well well, if it isn’t the freak caught with his hands in the cookie jar.”

Neither of you look at Billy, the heat between you still strong, sweltering.

“Hargrove,” Eddie greets, eyes never leaving yours, “thanks man.”

Billy shoots you a look, fists clenched, “for what?”

Eddie stands up straight, hands leaving you to retreat into his jacket pocket, angling his shoulders back, “bringing my girl to me, seriously, I owe you.”

Billy smirks and chuckles, “your girl huh?”

“I didn’t stutter.”

Eddie dogged the first swing, ducking and jabbing a brass knuckled fist into Billy’s stomach, sending him backwards into a table behind him, peanuts and beer spray up across the bar.

Stalking towards Billy, the shine of Eddie’s brass knuckles gleam against his fist, matching the shine of the wink he shoots you, and he’s caught off guard when you re-cross your legs and lick your top lip, hooded eyelids flashing him a sinful look of lust.

He chuckles at the sight of you, how you’re not afraid of him, how you didn’t run, the way you look like you’re almost enjoying this. Fuck.

Billy’s boot kicks Eddie square in the jaw, blooding up his bottom lip, sending him tumbling back a few steps, giving Billy the upper hand.

Neither of them expect what comes next. Eddie didn’t notice you get up, planting your heels on the ground and grabbing the bar stool by the legs. He only heard the thud of Billy falling to the ground and the crack of splintered wood teetering across the ground, the remaining pieces of the stool tossed to your feet.

Heels echoing across the floor, you tiptoe around the wood kneeling down to grab Billy’s blond hair between your fingers, twisting as his head raises from the floor.

“Date’s over,” your voice is sweet with each word, almost pleasant in the delivery, “understand?”

“Fucking crazy bitch,” Billy spits.

The whip of a knife whizzes past your ear, catching on the meat of Billy’s hand, nailing him to the floor.

Billy gasps and grunts mumbling shit under his breath.

Turning your head you look up at the dark haired metalhead. His eyes are darker than they were all night, a twitch formed in one of his eyelids. The blood dripping from his chin was sticky against his pale skin. To anyone else in the bar he looked deranged, like a demon straight from hell here in a human form, but to you? He looked like a God, a fucking King.

The look in his eyes caused a pool to form between your legs, the black veil of iniquity clouded your vision, a certain wickedness emitted from him and you were drawn to it like a magnet.

He stomps to both you and Billy, bending down he reaches a hand over your back, grabbing ahold of your hip, making you stand up with him.

“Wrong answer.” Eddie grunts, his boot shoving the blade in further.

He’s taller than you expected him to be, his broad shoulders are rolled back and he peers down at you, a dimpled smirk on his lips.

Standing on tiptoes, you reach up to his face. His strong jaw ripples between clenched teeth under your fingers. Rubbing the cut on his bottom lip with your thumb, he doesn’t flinch, only breathes heavy when you smear the blood around, and pop it into your mouth. The devil’s smile on your lips as you hum around your thumb, the acidic burnt taste of his blood on your tongue.

He groans, squeezing your hips in his big hands, bringing you into him, his stiff cock pressed heavy against your middle.

“Wanna get outta here?” your fingers walk up against his chest, fingernails scratching down until they land on his belt, lightly yanking the leather towards you.

“Your place or mine?” His voice is low, hungry.

“I’m not picky.”

“didn’t think you were, c’mon sweetheart.”

Eddie grabs your hand and drags you through the front door, your laugh fills the night air, taking away any chill from it, your bodies serving as heaters. He opens the drivers door of his van and you get in climbing over the center console.

He climbs in behind you, almost choking when you throw a leg back over and sit firmly in his lap.

“Fuck.”

Your fingers work to the collar of his shirt, ripping it down the center, showing off his pretty porcelain skin etched with scrawls of a demon-like face and a black widow on his chest, heaving as he tries not to blow his load right there and then.

Eyes rake over him, followed by the scratch of your nails, he hisses and groans as your lips attach to his neck, licking sweet and warm under his ear, “about time you talked to me..”

Your hips move against him, his hands burning into the fabric of your skirt and lifting slightly, thumbs searing into your thighs, “looks like you just needed to get jealous, hmm?”

Eddie’s hands work your jacket from your shoulders, groaning as the neon light from the bar hits you, illuminating the delicate skin of your shoulders, and the tight strap from your bra, he moans and yanks you forward, hands full on your breasts as his fingers roll against your nipples. His lips perched to the column of your throat. Your moans filling the van when his tongue salves across your throat, working a hickey into your neck, “that’s what I thought big boy, mmm, you’re easy to read.”

His dick kicks up when the pad of his thumb hits a steel ball on either side of your nipples, and he bites hard into your neck, causing you to yelp and moan, enjoying the pleasured pain.

“course I was jealous,” Eddie groans against your skin, working his tongue along his teeth marks, “fuckin’ look at you, goddamn devil woman.”

Your hand works to his jaw, wrapping closed around his throat and shoving him back hard into the seat. Nose to nose with him, your tongue darting out to catch the flesh of his lip, whispering hot against his mouth as you press your wet cunt down into him, “you like that? The evil inside of me?”

His hand wraps around your throat, large rings cutting into your skin, pressing hard against the bite he put into your neck. Eyes rolling to white you hum a moan so pretty against his hand his dick kicks up again, straining beneath the denim.

He brings you close to him, lips ghosting over your own, “Like isn’t the right word.”

His lips crash into yours, a mix of blood, spit and clashing teeth. It’s primal, the way your mouths work together, licking, sucking, lapping at one another, hungry for more.

Your hands move feverishly against his belt, and his fingers waist no time shoving your skirt up higher, showing off the sheen from your pussy lips, slick and bare, no panties.

He groans when his fingers push past your puffy lips and circle your clit, trying to suck him in where you need him most.

“Fuck,” he chuckles, “you’re fucking soaked, Eddie get you all worked up?”

“Is that your name?” you quip, working his velvet thick cock from his jeans, spitting on the tip and rubbing it around with your thumb, you wrap your fingers around his shaft pumping him once, “looked more like a Diablo,” your hand works him again, “Lucifer…” you push his head through your slick folds, sinking down enough that the head of his cock disappears, “.. or daddy to me.”

Eddie rolls his eyes back into his head, biting his fist, and moaning loud, “fuck, you’re gonna kill me.”

You tut between your teeth, “not tonight, tonight you’re mine.”

Your full weight drops down onto his cock and you sigh a moan the same time Eddie groans and squeezes his eyes shut, and you take a second to catch your breath before you adjust yourself so you can circle your hips. your nails press into his chest again, leaving scarlet marks in your wake, his skin pulled from itself and under your fingers, and he can’t get enough,

The buckles on your bra straps are plucked like dandelion heads against the cup, threads frayed under Eddie's hands as your tits bounce from their confinements, pretty piercings glinting in the neon lights.

“Tell me,” you groan, your own hands pushing your tits together and biting your lip from the pure ecstasy that’s laced into Eddie’s cock, “tell me how good this is.”

“Fuck look at you, taking me so fuckin’ deep.” his thumb circles your clit as his hips buck up into you, eliciting more pretty moans that rattle the windows in the van, matching his grunts and sweat-stuck bangs. “should have, mm yeah shit just like that, fuck! don’t stop, scooped you up the first night I saw you.”

He wasn’t like the other lame dicks in Hawkins, this one seemed different, better. You knew from the moment you saw him that he could keep up with you, wouldn’t be turned away from your demon lust or the darkness that permeated through your skin. Just as Billy had said, this guy was a freak. Like you.

Eddie lifts you up and turns, slamming you into the seat so your face is pressed against the warm leather, ass angled up, pussy split open and weeping from his cock.

He works his dick between your folds, relishing in the way you try to suck him in greedily, chuckling as you pout and scowl when he teases you some more.

“what’s the matter pretty girl? You don’t like being teased?”

“no,” you whine as he does it again, laughing at your eager pussy and desperate cries. A hand lands hard on the fat of your ass and you jump under his hand, moaning and pushing yourself back into him, “more, fuck, please.”

That’s all Eddie needed to hear before he’s deep inside you again, your gummy walls clenching around him as he bottoms out, His large hand printed on your skin. “fuck you’re nasty, such a dirty slut aren’t ya?”

“yes, fuck.” your tongue licks the leather seat, eyes looking back to see the blackness cloud Eddie’s eyes and for a split second you swore there were horns on his head.

He pumps into you faster, met by your hand circling your clit, he leans forward to suck into your shoulder blade, licking up the back of your neck, whispering into your ear as his hips jack knife into you, “come for me, fuckin’ come for daddy.”

Wet floods your fingers and heat coils in your belly as your orgasm spreads, the back of Eddie’s seat has moon shaped indents on the left side as you claw into it, moaning against it.

His fingers are grabbing you hard enough it will leave bruises on your hips, he grunts into you, working you through your leg shaking high. “Did so good for me, yeah you like this cock? gripping me like a fuckin’ vice honey, ’m gonna come, where you want me?”

You twist beneath him, facing him to see his sweaty chest, hair sticking to his neck in places, dark eyes gleaming in a lust infused state of bliss, fat cock red and swollen. The demon of your dreams.

The makeup on your eyes were smudged from sweat and your face grinding into the seat, you lick your lips and eye the pre cum on his cock, your slick soaking his length, coating the course hair at the base. “I wanna know how we taste.”

Eddie groans, grabbing your waist roughly and adjusting you both carelessly to the back, shoulders knocking into the seats and whatever other bullshit was tossed into the void.

He kisses you harsh, fingers tweezed around your nipple piercing, groaning at your little moans as you bite his split lip and shove him onto his back. Peering down at him with soulless eyes you work your way down his body, tangling yourself in between his legs, you wrap your lips around his fat length.

The heady taste of your arousal and the brine of his precum mix on your tongue, marrying into a profound taste that could only be described as heaven and hell.

His hips wiggle beneath you, desperate for more of your mouth, you giggle before swallowing him into your throat in one single move, working your hands up and down his shaft, in tandem with your swirling tongue.

Groans replace your desperate moans from earlier, lewd sounds streak up the fogged fucked windows of the van, and it’s not long before Eddie is spilling into your mouth, muttering nonsense.

You suck him clean, and he hisses at your wicked tongue lapping around him.

“Fuck Lilith,” Eddie groans, sleepy little smile on his lips as he pulls you into his sweaty chest, skin to skin, “you’re out of this world.”

You quirk a brow and push his bangs back from his forehead, “that’s not my name, Eddie.”

“it should be,” he grins down at you, moving your neck to plant a kiss behind your ear, “it’s a variation of the Mother goddess of all demons… and after what we just did, fuck.” he grunts, squeezing your bare thigh and hoisting you higher up to him, “satan himself couldn’t tear you away from me.”

A wicked grin paints your lips, and you surprise yourself when you push them into Eddie’s, fingers wrapped tight around his neck.

Eddie was wrong, you weren’t lost, just missing a piece to your puzzle, needing someone to delve into the darkest part of your mind, to be enthused by your antics, applauding your wickedness. and that someone, was found at a smelly dive bar. Him.

Ave Satani

pls enjoy another story in the same au here

♡tag list: @dashingdeb16 @emxxblog @mopeymopeymouse @pretendthisnameisclever @mommybaby-witch @eddies-acousticguitar @tlclick73 @figmentofquinn @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @whenshelanded @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord * @leelei1980 @mopeymopeymouse @browneyes8288 @emilyslutface @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiesxangel @elegantkoalapaper * @str4ngergirlw0rld * @corrodedcoffincumslut @nailbatanddungeon @katethetank @munsons-mayhem28 * @mandyjo8719 @joannamuns9n @littlebookworm86 @hunnybuns-world @feyremunson

+ a few lovely moots: @taintedcigs @eiightysixbaby @prettyboyeddiemunson @succubusmunson @eddieschains @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @littledemondani

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson one shot

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markhoffmans-certified-slut · 6 months

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7 Minutes In Heaven | Billy Loomis

Pairing: Billy Loomis x female!reader

Word count: 5K

Warnings/contents: Strong language, mild sexual innuendos, light fluff.

Notes: Sometimes I forget how hot Billy is when he's pissed off, and then I see this gif and I go... 😍🤤

I hope that you guys enjoy this chapter, I had a fun time trying to figure out what to do for it and I think that it ended up sort of good.

<>~<>~<>

The sofa dipped beside you as a warm arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you close; you were zoning out, staring at the wall behind your friends head for the past few minutes. The sudden action made you jump slightly as the man beside you let out a sigh and grinned.

“Wasn’t this a great party?” Stu asked, looking around at the room of dwindling guests. He was right— the party had been a success and gone nearly all night long; the sun was going to start coming up before you knew it and everyone started to show up to his house around six o’clock yesterday evening. Your eyes were tired as you glanced at the man and brought your cup to your lips.

“Yeah, it sure was.” You met Tatum’s eyes across the room and shifted awkwardly. She always knew that there was nothing going on between you and Stu— after all, you were constantly reminding her that he was like a brother— a very annoying brother. However that didn’t mean that you weren’t uncomfortable sometimes when she caught you with him like this. It was no secret that Stu had cheated on her over the summer. And that was the time she knew of. “You want anything from the kitchen?” You asked, knocking his arm off of your shoulder as you stood.

“Nah,” before he could finish his sentence, you started to head away and walk towards the bright kitchen. Blinking hard, you refilled your half empty cup and rubbed your tired eyes carefully, though you were certain your makeup had to be smudged already. It had been on for over twenty four hours now. You had come straight from work to Stu’s party.

The kitchen was a mess— you didn’t even want to know what the rest of the house looked like. Somehow Stu would get everything cleaned up before his parents got home, most likely with Billy’s help.

“Hey,” you looked over and sent your friend a smile when she peeked around the kitchen doorframe. “Stu wants to play a game before everyone leaves. Want to join?”

“Sure. What are we playing?” You asked, walking alongside Sidney to the sitting room. “Knowing Stu, probably something that ends with someone being naked.”

“It’s probably strip truth or dare,” she snickered, playing along with your joke. “Or strip “Never have I ever.”” The two of you shared another laugh before walking towards the small group of people left and sat down in the semi-formed circle. There were a few people that you recognized from high school, but then there were a lot more unfamiliar faces. You wouldn’t have been surprised if there were over two-hundred people in this house over the course of the past twelve hours.

“Alright everybody,” Stu started, though he tipped his head upwards and chugged the last bit of beer in a bottle that you hoped hadn’t been sitting there for too long, and sent the room a smirk. “We’re all playing seven minutes in heaven.” Tatum shot him a dirty look as you and Sidney shared a groan.

“Maybe we’ll get someone super drunk and we can make them forget what we’re playing,” Sidney whispered hopefully into your ear.

“Or maybe we’ll get thrown up on.” She cringed at the thought while you watched Stu set the bottle in the middle of the circle and ignored Tatum’s stare.

“So… who’s spinning first?” Sidney asked, glancing around the room of drunk and hungover college students hunched over with their head in their hands. The thought of being shoved against one of these strangers in the small closet made your stomach churn. You had sworn you’d seen several of the people in the circle throwing up earlier in the night.

“First to ask, first to spin.” Stu gestured to the daunting bottle on the floor. Sidney sent you a semi-timid look out of the corner of her eye, earning a huff from you.

“I’ll go first.” You leaned in, grasping the bottle by the neck and hoping that you would end up with someone who either hadn’t thrown up tonight, or who was less drunk than some of the others. You leaned back onto your knees and watched as it came to a stop— then quickly your eyes went wide and your lip curled in disgust. “God, this night just keeps getting fucking worse.”

“What a lucky man I am,” Stu sent you a devious smirk and stood as Tatum looked between the two of you quickly and huffed as she crossed her arms. He moved until he stood over you and offered a hand down towards you; sending Tatum a quick, apologetic look, you stood up on your own, ignoring the mans hand and starting to walk towards the small coat closet by the front door. You glanced back and saw Billy, a semi-annoyed look on his face as he followed a smirking Stu towards the closet behind you.

“Have fun.” Billy’s tone was dull, one you didn’t hear often. He seemed less than impressed at the situation, but you weren’t entirely sure why.

“Oh, we will—“

“We won’t—“ You and Stu spoke at the same time as he pulled you into the closet with him. Billy seemed to hesitate for a second before he shut the closet door.

“Time starts… now.” Billy called through the closed door and blocked the handle with the chair. Your gut wrenched as you shimmied as far away from Stu as possible. He was so close in the closet you swore that you could feel his body heat radiating towards you even as you pushed yourself back against the wall.

“You couldn’t have picked strip truth or dare, or something?” You grumbled in complaint at the man after a moment of silence. Stu gave a quick snicker and reached towards you for your shoulder.

“You’d rather everybody see your boobs than just me?” With a scoff, you slapped the mans hand away as his chilly fingers traced your collarbone.

“You are not going to be seeing my boobs tonight, Stu.” He gave a soft hum in response.

“Yeah, y’know what? You’re right. It’s way too dark to see anything in here.” It was dark in the closet but slowly your eyes were adjusting to Stu’s outline as he spoke.

“You know that isn’t what I meant.” You said, agitated with the man. Stu reached for you again, though this time this fingers graced your cheek before he firmly planted his palm against the side of your face. “And stop acting like you were ever going to see my boobs tonight anyways— go look at your girlfriends instead.” Stu hummed in a teasing tone, though it felt like it was only half paying attention to the words that you were saying.

“But yours look so much better in those tight shirts that you wear.” Your face heated up quick; there was something about him that never failed to anger you. His attitude, his cocky smile, his voice— but most importantly, how little he seemed to care about one of your best friends.

“You are such a fucking asshole— piece of shit— garbage— jerk!” Stu tilted his head to the side and slowly leaned in, quickly grabbing your hands when you reached up to plant them on his chest to keep him back. Stu held both your wrists tight in his hand, leaning in until his warm breath hit the skin beneath your lips.

“If I’m such a fucking asshole then why would I bring you in here to do this?” Curiosity bit at you when Stu didn’t immediately go to kiss you or say anything else.

“Do what…?” Stu gave a soft laugh— a mocking one that made your chest tighten— the smell of alcohol was lingering on his breath, but it wasn’t bothering you as much as not understanding what was going on. Stu was up to something, and for once you didn’t feel a menacing threat from him.

“Make him mad.” You were wracking your brain trying to understand what he meant, but he spoke up again as soon as the alarm went off in the other room. “Just go with it. Trust me— just this once.” He said in an encouraging voice. Soft footsteps started to head for the closet, giving you a feeling of relief before Stu was quick to shove his knee between your legs and forced his lips against yours.

You gasped into his mouth at the quick movements from the man, giving him the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth as he reached up and grasped for your neck; his fingers wrapped around the back of your neck and held you painstakingly close so that you couldn’t pull away from him. Your hands wiggled in his grasp as the door opened and the light nearly blinded you.

With an overdramatized ‘smack,’ Stu pulled away and looked out into the sitting room with a smirk on his face.

“Whoops. Guess we got caught.” Your face was hot, eyebrows furrowed inwards in annoyance and confusion. Stu let your wrists go, though he lingered for a moment on your neck and sent you a wink. You reached up, rubbing the spot that his thumb had been digging into your skin, wondering if his grip was enough to leave a mark. It had sure felt like he was holding you tight enough.

Stu went back to the sitting room and sat where he originally was, but you saw Tatum scoot away so that she wasn’t as close to him. Her eyes lingered on you for a moment before she reached for the bottle.

“I’ll go next.” You frowned, shoulders slumping as you walked back towards your spot and avoided eye contact with the group. Everybody had expected this exact scenario, but you didn’t want to meet anybody’s gaze. Especially not Stu’s.

“Are you okay?” Sidney asked quietly as she sat next to you. “Did he assault you in there or something?” You shook your head softly.

“He just… has really strong fingers.” Sidney raised an eyebrow at you and opened her mouth to speak, but you were quick to cut her off. “No! I mean…” You huffed and watched the bottle spin. “He was just holding onto my neck really hard.”

When the bottle finally stopped, Tatum immediately grimaced.

The boy that it landed on was possibly the drunkest in the circle, barely even able to stand up right let alone help her stand up. She nudged his hand away, sending Stu a quick glance with a huff before she stood. Stu seemed as if he was pretending not to see her desperate eyes as he reached for the timer from Sidney and stood up. Sidney scoffed as Stu led Tatum and the boy towards the small closet.

“He is such a… a…”

“Dickhead?” Sidney gave a soft chuckle and nodded.

“Remind me— why are we friends with them?”

“This is all because of Tatum— I didn’t even know who Stu was before she met him.” Sidney sighed and looked over as Stu headed back with the timer in hand. You saw that it hadn’t been started yet.

“Alright— who wants to play strip truth or dare while they’re in there?” He asked, eyeing you in a way that made your stomach churn. You sent the man a dirty look that made him laugh. “What? I thought that you said you wanted me to see your boobs.”

“I did not say that!” You seethed at the man.

“Ooh— that’s right, you said that you’d rather the whole room see them than just me.”

“I didn’t say that either!”

“I distinctly remember—“ Sidney cleared her throat loudly before the two of you could get into another one of your longwinded fights.

“Why don’t we just play normal truth or dare? Or never have I ever? Something that won’t end in a fight.”

“With him? Unlikely.” You grumbled.

“Well, I have a wonderful dare for you.” Stu grinned.

“I would never choose dare from you.” You scoffed.

“Really? Not even if I dared you to kiss me again?” Your cheeks went hot as you went to reply, nearly standing up to yell at the man before Sidney pressed you back and spoke.

“Never have I ever hosted a party and had nobody show up.” She intervened while you glared at Stu— a look that only Billy could rival. A girl across from Sidney sighed and grabbed her drink, taking a swift shot of it and wincing. Stu laughed as he looked at her, letting you be free from his antagonizing stare for even just a second.

The timer went off and Sidney was quick to get up to go save Tatum.

For the moment, things were quiet, Stu looked back, watching his girlfriend nearly stumble out of the closet with her shirt ruffled. You assumed that it must’ve been some form of revenge as she expectantly looked at Stu, but he didn’t seem like he cared at all.

“We’re playing never have I ever while other people are in the closet.” Sidney informed Tatum while she fixed her shirt. This time, Tatum moved between the two kids from your other classes rather than sit beside Stu. You expected that their fight might last about a week this time. “So… who’s spinning next?” The girl beside Tatum seemed like she was desperate to find any way out of a game that might end up with her drinking more, so she was quick to raise her hand and lean in to spin the bottle.

It spun for what felt like forever before it finally started to slow to a stop and landed dead on Sidney— earning a perverted chuckle from Stu as if he wanted to be in the room with them when this was happening. Sidney, however, sighed and rolled her eyes in his direction.

“Your perverted fantasies aren’t going to be coming true.” You swore that the other girl immediately sunk in relief at being in the closet with Sidney. The guys were drunk and she seemed like she trusted Sidney. Stu hopped up and headed with the girls towards the closet, leaving everybody in a bittersweet moment of silence before he came back. You missed Sidney’s presence next to you, holding you back from arguing with the man that was now seated across from you again.

You glanced around the circle, but your eyes met another’s quickly. Billy was looking at you, and when you met his gaze, he didn’t look away immediately, you sent him a quick, small smile before turning your gaze back to Stu as he spoke up.

“Never have I ever gotten so drunk that I’ve pissed on myself.” You were slightly surprised to see a decent number of people in the circle take a sip from their cup. You and Tatum met each others gaze with a mixture of equally disgusted looks on your face. “Never have I ever—“

“You don’t get to go twice,” you cut the man off quick, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach from the devious smirk he had on his face as he eyed you down. The look on his face could only bring bad things and you weren’t in the mood for it.

“Then you go.” You didn’t take the time to think before you spoke, dead-set on trying to embarrass the man like he had you; however, you forgot to take into consideration that Stu didn’t care about anybody in this circle outside of himself— including his girlfriend.

“Never have I ever had sex with two people in one night— within the past two years.” Stu took a shot from his drink proudly, something that noticeably hurt Tatum. You felt bad for a moment as she stood and started for the bathroom, but you barely had the time to look at her before he spoke again.

“Aren’t you going to take a shot?” He smirked at you. “Never have I ever sucked a dick in a dirty bathroom for some alcohol.” He shot at you, but before anybody in the circle had the chance to react, you fired back.

“Never have I ever cheated on my girlfriend— multiple times.”

“Never have I ever been so afraid to admit my feelings for someone that I hid in the bathroom an entire lunch period.”

“Never have I ever been so disgusting that I want to vomit when I look in the mirror.”

“Jokes on you, I don’t want to vomit.”

“Looking at you makes me want to make myself vomit.”

The front door clicking shut drew your attention away from the aggravating man. The room was empty aside from you, Stu and Billy now.

“Good going, you chased everybody off.” Stu teased you, knowing that it was going to press your final button.

“I swear to god, Stu—“ Before you could finish your sentence, the timer on his phone went off. He was quick to bounce up and start heading for the closet with a quick wink at you.

“You’ll have to swear to god some other time.”

It was clear as the women left the closet that nothing had happened. Sidney looked around the now almost empty room and frowned.

“Where did everybody go?”

“(y/n) chased everyone off with her off-putting personality.”

“Shut up, Stu!” Sidney sighed as the other girl started to sneak towards the door, wanting to escape the tension of the room. Stu sighed and shook his head as the door clicked shut once more.

“Well… I guess it’s time we end the party.” Sidney said, but Stu was quick to intervene.

“What? No, we can’t end the party. Billy hasn’t even gone yet.”

“Admit it, you just want to tongue Billy in the closet.” You shot at the man, but for the first time in maybe forever, you only received a frown from him.

“Billy, spin the bottle.” The other man looked as confused as you were as he reached for the bottle; if there was one thing the three of you silently agreed on as Stu sat down in the now much smaller circle, the man was relatively unstable and he was acting weirder than usual— something that nobody wanted to push wrong.

“Where is Tatum?” Sidney asked. “She didn’t try and drive home, did she?”

“I’ll go check on Tatum in a minute.” Stu said as he looked at Sidney. “Just sit down.”

“What the hell happened while I was in there?” Sidney asked quietly as she scooted closer to you. Taking a second to glance in her direction, you sighed.

“A lot.”

A devious chuckle left the man across from you that made the hairs on your arms stand up. You looked down at the bottle and saw it facing you perfectly.

“Come on, lovebirds.” Stu stood, heading towards the closet as if he was happier than anybody else in the room seemed to be— maybe even more excited than anybody had been all night long. Your cheeks flushed as you glanced at Billy. He stood, extending a hand in your direction and waiting patiently for your fingers to grasp onto his. You had barely seen the man tonight— after all, you could barely spend any time around him without making a fool out of yourself on a good day.

But you took his hand and let him help you; Sidney was quick to send you a smile and a thumbs up when you glanced backwards at her.

Billy walked into the closet first and as you were going to step inside, Stu nudged you and made you trip. Billy was quick to catch you by the waist as you yelped.

“Dammit, Stu!” You turned to yell at the man, only to have the door slammed in your face.

“Seven minutes!” Stu called out from the other side as he pushed the chair beneath the door handle and walked back to the once fully formed circle with Sidney. Stu set his phone down, the timer off and phone facing down.

“What has gotten into him lately?” You grumbled, shifting with Billy so that you weren’t fully pressed against him in the small closet. Now, you were in the same position that you were in when it was you and Stu in the closet. “He’s been more annoying than usual lately.”

“Seems like you had fun with him in here.” Billy responded dully. You gave a soft groan in discontent.

“No, we did not have fun.”

“Seemed like it when the door opened.”

“He was the one kissing me—”

“Besides, you said you wanted him to see your boobs?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Tatum probably won’t mind if you’re blowing her boyfriend anyways. I think she’s getting tired of him.”

“I am not blowing Stu!” You said, your upper lip curling in disgust— something that Billy wouldn’t see. “I can’t even believe that you’d think— ew! You don’t really believe I’d voluntarily put his dick in my mouth do you? He’s gross.”

“You looked pretty cozy in here.” You scoffed, going to speak, but suddenly Stu’s voice came to your mind. You hesitated for a moment before you spoke again.

“Are you upset about that?”

“Why should I be mad? If you wanna fuck him, it’s none of my business.”

“I don’t know. Why are you mad?” Billy hesitated for a moment before he scoffed, taking a small step closer to you.

“Did you ever think that maybe you can’t stand Stu so much because you’re like him?” He asked in an impatient tone.

“Uh— offensive.” You complained. “Why the fuck does Stu think that shoving his tongue into my mouth would piss you off anyways? Thats what he said.” You were slightly hopeful in the back of your mind. Maybe he likes me. Maybe he’s jealous. Maybe Stu was trying to help after all.

“He’s an idiot.” Was all that Billy said. You sighed and looked down; the only light that came into the room was illuminating your shoes. After what felt like forever, he finally spoke again. “Alright, maybe there’s something that I should tell you.” Billy sighed, his warm fingers gently nudging your chin up. He’d gotten closer than you thought he had, so close that you felt his breath on your face. Billy opened his mouth to speak again when all of the sudden the front door slammed shut— loudly.

“Tatum!” Sidney called out and hurried footsteps ran towards the door. It opened again and then shut, a clear indication that both of your friends were now gone. You swore you heard an engine start and felt your heart drop.

“No fucking way,” you groaned quietly. “There goes my ride.” Suddenly, the door opened and nearly blinded you with the light as Billy’s hand fell back to his side. Stu looked annoyed as he turned and walked away.

“Party’s over.” You left the closet, hurrying towards the front door and pulling it open quickly. You stepped outside, noticing the car that you had arrived here in was no longer sitting outside of the house.

“Oh, no, no, no…” You groaned, reaching up to push your hair back. “Fuck…” a cold hand was placed on your shoulder, quickly catching your attention; you met Stu’s gaze. He sent you a mischievous wink, one that didn’t match his previous demeanor.

“You can stay here overnight. My bed has room for two.”

“Stu—“

“I’ll take you home.” You looked behind the tall man, catching Billy’s gaze and hesitating.

“No, really— feel free to stay if you want. Both of you can. I have a spare bedroom, too.” Stu nudged Billy, quickly getting an elbow to the ribs in return.

“She’s got a cat.” Was all Billy said as he reached for the coatrack and grabbed his jacket. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.” You sent a tentative glance towards Stu, who looked from Billy to you. He sent you a small smile, one that (for once in the years that you’d known him) seemed genuine.

“It’s only a few blocks,” you said, turning to Billy and following him out the door. He held his coat over his arm, reaching around you to shut the door behind you as Stu headed in the opposite direction. “I don’t mind walking myself. You can stay with Stu.”

“What kind of guy would I be if I let a pretty girl walk home alone in the middle of the night?” He said the words nonchalantly, but it made your face feel warm as you averted eye contact from the man and looked down. “It’s just a few blocks.” He repeated your words. You crossed your arms, rubbing them and starting to walk beside the man and towards the sidewalk. “Tonight was kind of a shit show, huh?” He said aloud, though almost to himself. Despite that, you responded anyways.

“Yeah— I, uh… I feel bad for Tatum. I hope she isn’t too mad at me…” Gently, a coat was placed over your shoulders as you rubbed your arms, eyes concentrated on the concrete beneath your feet. You glanced at the man, shocked at the gesture. It was rare that you were alone with Billy, but every time that you were things felt different. He seemed nicer, walked closer, talked more.

“I don’t think you need to worry too much about it. Like I said, she’s getting tired of him and I don’t think Stu is gonna keep her around much longer.” You frowned and met his gaze again. “What? Come on— do you think he wants to marry her?”

“I just think you’re being a little crude.”

“She isn’t here, who cares?”

“I care.” You stopped, appalled at the man who stopped a few feet ahead of you. “She’s my best friend and I don’t like the way that your best friend treats her.” Billy looked down and sighed.

“Alright, I’m sorry.” He said, shoving his hands into his pockets as your clammy fingers grasped onto the coat he had lent you. “You’re right.” Things were quiet for a minute between the two of you before he looked around the dark area and sighed. “Come on, let’s just get you home.” He gestured for you to follow him, and so you did.

Regardless that you could have walked yourself and you had argued that fact, you were thankful for the man in this moment; the area wasn’t dangerous, but you weren’t completely sober and you were never out this late anymore.

“Thanks for taking me home, Billy.” You finally spoke. “I appreciate it.”

“It’s not a big deal. It’s late anyways. People are getting killed out here.” You nodded gently, eyes trained to the ground and missing the way that he looked down at you. “Sorry Stu’s been such a dick tonight.” He added. “And, uh… what happened in the closet…” He hesitated, stopping his slow walk and shaking his head. “Look, I’m sorry about what I said in the closet. I know you don’t like him.”

“Why were you so mad then?” You asked, looking back at the man that sucked on his teeth and quickly averted eye contact when he met your gaze.

“Because I wanted to be the one in the closet kissing you and he knows that.” Things went silent as your fingers loosened around the death grip that you didn’t know you had on the jacket. It smelled strong, almost as if he was right in front of you despite still being a few feet away from you. “And Stu was just trying to piss me off to get me to say it.”

“I guess that worked, huh?” Things were quiet again as Billy sighed and looked away from you, out towards the tree line by the dead road. “Why didn’t you just… kiss me?”

“It’s not that easy— I can’t just walk up to you and kiss you. I didn’t think you wanted to kiss me anyways. Stu thought that getting us alone together in the closet would make it easier.” Taking a small step closer to the man, you bit down on the inside of your cheek.

“You could have just told me.” You spoke gently. “I would have, uh… I would have told you that I wanted to kiss you, too.” Billy hesitated for a moment before he finally looked at you again. You waited for a moment before you reached up, fingers pressing to his cheek. Your legs shook, your face was hot, and every inch of your body wanted to run away and never speak to the man again. But you forced yourself to stare at him and speak in a breathy tone. “Just kiss me, Billy.”

He nodded and leaned in, closing his eyes as he reached for your waist and pulled you in to press a kiss to your lips. You gave a shaky exhale as he left you with a soft ‘smack,’ but Billy was quick to lean back in for another kiss— one that you didn’t deny. You let go of the jacket with your other hand, reaching for his shoulder and gently grasping onto his shirt. His scent was invigorating— you couldn’t remember the last time you had been so close to the man— if you ever were.

It felt like, for a moment, you went braindead. The only thing that you could think of were the slightly chapped lips pressed snug against your own as Billy’s warm hands held onto your hips. You couldn’t think of anything in the moment— in fact, nothing mattered beside the man in front of you— not even the buzzing that started in your pocket.

After what felt like it could never be enough, you pulled back from the man with a soft exhale and met his gaze— and there was a look in his eyes you had never seen before. Taking the opportunity that you may never come across again, you swallowed hard and glance at his lips.

“Do you wanna come in tonight?” Billy gave a soft hum and nodded.

“I’d like that.” You reached down, fingers intertwining with his as you stepped backwards.

“Come on then. Let’s go.”

#slashers #scream 1996 #scream franchise #scream x reader #scream x reader fluff #scream x reader smut #scream billy loomis #billy loomis #billy loomis x female reader #billy loomis x female reader fluff #billy loomis x female reader smut #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x reader fluff #billy loomis x reader smut

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likedovesinthewindd · 1 year

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Hii I little angsty request but could you do one where reader comforts hobie after his Canon event?

Somthing where reader keeps rambling because she doesnt know how else to fill the silence and they end up having the- "do you want me to shut up" "No" "do you want me to leave?" "...no"- conversation

ok so in the movie itself it doesn't really go into detail ab what hobie's canon event is exactly, and a lot of theories talk about it being him killing a police captain. then there's also the shot that shows him throwing away his suit. in the comics he kills president osborne and reveals his identity so that could also be it but idk!! maybe i didn't catch it but i left it as ambiguous so that you could kinda go with whatever.

hobie brown x fem! reader

warning: mentions of death, ingury

wc: ±1400

a/n: this was slow-cooking in my damn drafts but i finally got it done.

The pelts of rain that fall against your bedroom door in their uncoordinated rhythm does little to lull you back to sleep as you thrash around in the sheets, your mind torturing you with the recurring thoughts of 'what if?'

What if he got hurt? What if he's lying somewhere, bleeding out and slipping right through your fingers? What if he was already dead, killed in cold blood by one of the many people against him and the message he so fearlessly and shamelessly carries with him.

You turn around in bed once again, willing the thoughts away as you try to focus on something less pessimistic.

You haven't heard from Hobie in days, haven't seen him even longer ago. It wasn't uncommon for him to dissappear like this—you almost expected it from him considering what he did—but it's never been this long before. The longest he's been gone was four days. It's been ten today.

You knew he could take care of himself, and you knew he could protect himself well. Hell, you've both heard and seen what happened to the people that underestimated him. But you still worried, it was in your nature to worry about him every time he left you. He knew this, and he'd do his best to reassure you in his own laid-back, almost cocky way.

"You worry too much, love. 'll be back before you knowit, yeah?" was what he'd always say, leaving you with a kiss to the forehead. You couldn't exactly remember what he said when he left days ago.

At that, your mind whirred back to life, the what if's and gruesome scenarios plaguing you for the umpteenth time this day alone. Before these thoughts could once again pull you into a depreciating hole of anxiety and stress, you shot out of bed, the cold air at once causing goosebumps along the expanse of your arms

You had to do something; move around, clean your room, watch TV, fold laundry, anything to get your mind off of things, even if only for a little while. You decided to make your way to the kitchen, make yourself something to eat, considering you've been too on edge to stomach anything truly filling.

The soothing voice of Billie Holiday filled the kitchen from the old record player, as you absent-mindedly stirred at the pot of pasta, the pan next to it simmering with sauce. Your reverie was broken by the sound of your bedroom window being slid open, followed by the thud of boots and a loud sigh.

Your heart sunk down to the soles of your feet, as you quietly yet excitedly made your way to your bedroom. There he stood, pulling at his mask, the rest of him soaked from the heavy downpour. He pulled the mask from his face, and once his eyes met yours, you knew something was wrong.

You made your way over to him, your socked feet trying to avoid the small puddle his boots had made as you took his cold hands in yours. He took a second to look down at where your hands connected, and released another tired sigh. "Bee?" you asked, trying to get him to look at you. He looked up at you with sullen eyes.

"Are you hungry?" you asked softly. You didn't ask him where he was, or what he was doing. He wasn't going to give you a real answer anyway. Not right now, at least. You didn't pry at that part of his life, although the various news reports and newspaper articles kept you more than informed most of the time. That was if they weren't being filtered through by the regime of the higher ups, them not very keen on telling the story how it really is. Much more interested in keeping their hands seemingly clean, and painting him as the bad guy; the wannabe hero trying to further worsen the state of the already near-apocalyptic nation.

He only nodded at you question, and you nodded along with him, already seeing that it was going to be one of those nights; where he much rather preferred you did all the talking, while he mulled over whatever event had occurred.

"Go take a shower, I'll finish up the food," you said softly, leaving him and returning to the kitchen. After a while he emerged from the bedroom, changed into dry clothes as he made his way to the kitchen table. He sat by the island quietly, watching you cook and listening to you as you talked about what you'd been up to. He didn't miss the small "I missed you, bee. You had me worried," thrown in.

It wasn't long till the both of you sat in your small living room after finishing your food. You could see he wasn't really hungry, but he ate just to give you some peace of mind. The sound of Billie Holiday was by now traded for Amy Winehouse, her beautifully gruff voice mixing perfectly with the sound of the rain that still pelted against the windows.

"—I knew she was only joking, but I was still scared as hell. You know how easily I get stressed out," you rambled on about whatever stupid story you could think of, anything to fill the deafening silence between the two of you. You, by now, were on your third story already, and you could feel how irritating you probably were. You were trying to get him to react, to snicker, laugh, make one of his sarcastic remarks, anything to tell you he was alright. You could see he wasn't alright, though.

He looked so tired, like something was eating at him, and it killed you to see him like this. It was obvious that whatever had happened was not just one of those nights, but something much more serious.

You followed his line of sight, where he had been staring at the coffee table with a blank stare, eyes trained on the cover of a newspaper you had bought.

"Do you want me to shut up?" you asked quietly, at your wits end. He finally looked at you, shaking his head slowly. "No," he added, voice gruff and deep from no use. You nodded, moving closer to him and placing your hand on his leg, giving it a light squeeze.

"I decided to buy one today, when I passed the convenience store 'round the corner from work," you started, "yeah...haven't read one in ages. There's actually an article about you in there, don't know how they managed to get that printed," you laughed weakly. "They called you 'Spiderpunk', I know how much you hate that," you added quietly, your resolve crumbling when the only thing you got out of him was a scoff. Usually he'd go on a tangent about how much he hated the term, but tonight he was so quiet, so sullen it actually unnerved you.

"I'm here if you want to talk, you know that, right?" you asked, and he gave you a nod. "Perhaps not right now, but when you're ready, I'll be here. I'll always be here. Even if we end up never talking about it, it's fine." For a moment his face faltered, looking as though he desperately wanted to talk to you about whatever happened, but the words got stuck in his throat, making him swallow dryly.

"D'you want me to leave? Give you some space?" you asked again, and when his eyes met yours, you could see every hidden emotion in them, every unsaid word he so desperately wanted to utter to you. The sight made your heart clench. How badly you wanted to wrap your arms around him, make him forget, but if he wanted distance, it was what you'd give him.

Once again it was just the sound of Amy Winehouse and the downpour filling the small room, along with Hobie's deep and steady breaths against your collarbones.

"No, stay a bit," he said, and you nodded once again. You moved impossibly closer to him, finally wrapping your arms around his neck and engulfing him in an embrace. He accepted your affection, responding by wrapping his long arms around your waist and practically pulling you into his lap, placing his head on your shoulder and letting out another exhausted sigh.

He can only hold her, miss Winehouse sang.

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown angst #hobie brown fic #hobie brown #spiderman atsv #likedovesinthewindd

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j4gm · 9 months

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SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 8: JERRY

The last of four posts for today.

This episode has a very dark setting. This is the universe where The Lich wished for the extinction of all life. There is nothing here. This establishing shot features the Squirrel's apple cart, from a few episodes ago, but he is long dead and it is long abandoned.

We are introduced to a new cosmic entity, Orbo, who is Scarab's boss but is not to be mistaken for Prismo's boss, whose identity remains a mystery.

Simon name drops a whole bunch of magical items from the original Adventure Time series; the Armour of Zeldron from Blood Under the Skin, the Wand of Dispersement from Sons of Mars, the Porcelain Lamb from Beyond This Earthly Realm, and the magic beans from The Pods.

This episode suggests that the nature of Simon and Betty's relationship was initially quite unhealthy. He was one of her lecturers, and she had an infatuation with him from first sight.

This illustration features the ancient wizards who sealed Coconteppi beneath Wizard City in the Distant Lands episode of the same name.

Simon's expedition to find the Enchiridion was first mentioned in the newspaper clipping in I Remember You, and was mentioned again in Temple of Mars.

BMO apparently survived The Lich's wish because he isn't technically alive. I wonder where Neptr and the other MOs are. Cannibalised for batteries, perhaps. Also, that BRB note is very sad and is identical to the one Finn wrote in Blenanas.

There are various familiar items in the thawed out remains of the Ice Kingdom; ninja paraphernalia from The Chamber of Frozen Blades, Ice King's diary from The Empress Eyes, and of course the tape collection from Holly Jolly Secrets.

Here's a deep cut: That machine in the background to the right of Simon is the machine that held the lightning power that Finn went to steal in What is Life, so that he could power up Neptr. The Demonic Wishing Eye is also in this shot.

For a single frame, Ice King and Gunter can be seen reduced to skeletons. Presumably this was the exact moment that the Lich's wish took effect. Everyone died instantly, in less than a frame.

When I watched this episode for the first time I was confused about where Fionna got the working crown. But you can just about see it inside the drum in this shot, where Ice King mentioned he had put it in his tape.

This is the exact moment the photograph was taken for the newspaper clipping seen in I Remember You.

We first heard the story about how Simon met Betty after they tried to check out the same library book in Broke His Crown. It's cool to see it playing out for real.

Simon throws a pebble at the window and accidentally hits Babette in the face, exactly like Finn and Jake did to Kim Kil Whan in the episode Ocarina.

This is the second time Simon caused Betty to miss this research trip to Australia. She says in Temple of Mars that she never got the opportunity to go, and resolves that her life might not have been so messed up if she'd followed her own dreams instead of following Simon's.

The song in this scene, the motif of which has been heard throughout the series, is by Half Shy, who also wrote "Monster" for Obsidian.

BMO is buried with a paper flower because there are no real ones left alive. His death seemed pointlessly cruel.

THE LICH! He is in his half-disguised Billy form, confirming that this is his wish-altered reality. Like in his other appearances, the first line he speaks is a single word command. This time, the command is "Cease." But with nothing left to do he has become depressed, and he doesn't bother killing our protagonists.

And finally, we are left on this cliffhanger. Fionna and Cake have returned to their world. Scarab has convinced the boss that Simon must be destroyed. And GOLBetty is here to claim them both while the Lich watches on.

This episode's dream features a pair of Lich skulls either side an effigy of GOLB.

#adventure time #fionna and cake #easter egg posts

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findafight · 9 months

Note

RE the posts about Nancy and Jon just kinda leaving the kids to their own devices; I find it very telling that in season four that despite Steve complaining a number of times about being the babysitter, none of the kids raise any objections to him being the babysitter, despite what it implies about them. It’s Nancy who reminds him “they aren’t babies anymore”.

I used to find that kind of funny, the idea that they might kind of like being babied a bit by Steve (for whom indulging younger kids is still a novelty). And it’s fascinating to me how Mike in particular, despite regarding Steve with utter disdain, feels entitled to Steve’s time and attention. Even *months* after Nancy has broken up with him, and Mike could just follow her lead and not have anything more to do with him, *Mike’s* the one ringing the service bell until Robin shouts for Steve.

The kids are maybe a little bit clingier than we or the characters give them credit for, eh?

(This reading gets really interesting when you consider that out of all the teens/adults, Steve’s probably worked/fought alongside them the most and knows full well what they’re capable of.)

I think Steve being someone the younger teens look up to as both a friend and as a leader is probably key. The age difference between them is enough that it makes a difference in how they look up to him and small enough that they'll be functional equals given a few years, but that they'll still defer to him. They like Steve! I think they like knowing that there's someone older willing to call some of the shots and take the heat y'know? Even if they also want to contribute to the decisions it's nice for them to know he has their backs.

Tbh I think Mike and Steve butt heads for the bit. Like they biker and groan about each other but Steve still thinks of Mike as maybe kind of annoying (as are. All fourteen year olds 🫡) one of his (mildly ungrateful) little friends. Of course it would be Mike ringing the bell repeatedly, he and Mike show friendly affection by being obnoxious motherfuckers to each other.

Sooo correct that what makes it different than Nancy and Jon, was that even though they've all gone through Upside Down stuff, Nancy and Jon went through it together, while Steve went through it, starting in S2, with the young teens. They see him and even though they stop Billy from killing him he saves them (specifically Mike!!) In the tunnels. It sort of establishes Steve as someone they KNOW is going to take charge to help them. They can and have! Mike knows he can rely on Nancy, probably, but he doesn't have the same...proof? I guess? That he does of Steve.

I think it's natural for them, even as they get older, to defer to Steve. He's sort of invincible to them, and they trust him. Does this make sense? They can call their own shots but I think maybe they'll also go "right, Steve?" Even if just in their brains.

#steve harrington #mike wheeler #steve and the party #steve and mike #stranger things #findaanswers #anonasaurus #stranger things meta #as a full grown adult i still fall back on thinking my brother has hos shit together more than me and there's less than three years between #tho my little sister thinks im an idiot

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rafescurtainbangz · 5 months

Text

Two of a Kind (Billy Hargrove One Shot)

+18

Minor DNI

The two of you are headed out on vacation. If there is one thing that Billy has to be, it's early to the airport. When he decides to push your buttons, you push his right back. Has Billy met his match?

Dom!Dom, Sex toys, Brat, Oral (Female Receiving)

Your POV:

"Y/N!"

"William!" You shriek. "If you tell me to hurry up one more time I swear you're gonna be suckin' your own dick this trip. Jesus Christ! What are you fifty fuckin' years old?"

Billy chuckles darkly from the living room, taunting you further; driving you absolutely fucking insane. He sighs heavily, heaving himself up from the couch.

You hear his footsteps; the heels of his boots shuffling over your hardwood floor.

When I turn around he's going to be leaning into the doorframe. That smirk; a smolder in his eyes that makes me throb. And, all I'll get is a tease because this motherfucker needs to be at the airport four hours early.

For what?

You continue to stuff your clothes in your suitcase. Coercing the man with a lack of one of his favorite things... your attention.

He clears his throat as you continue to toil, leaving Billy no choice but to get physical to get what he wants. You.

Mmm... Then it's all over.

His heavy feet move closer. Anticipation builds as you feel his hips flush with your ass, he reaches down, taking a hold of your waist.

"Y/n..."

"Mhmm..." You hum as if it's nothing, leaning forward to reach for your heels "somehow" finding yourself in Billy's favorite position; your hips in his hands, taking you from behind; you, fucking him back.

"Goddamn," he grumbles; his hands circling your ass.

"Did you need something? I'm in a rush, apparently."

"Why are you ignoring me, baby?" He runs his hand up the middle of your back; the other, pulling your hips closer.

"Because Hargrove you're a fucking tease and you know it."

He lets out that same chuckle; velvety and low as his fingers weave through your hair at the nape of your neck.

Pull it, Billy... You know you want to.

He doesn't, moving his hips ever so slightly; pressing into you at the perfect tempo.

"You did this to me when we went to Cali. You did this to me when we went to Minnesota and Dallas; and New Orleans. You get me all fuckin' worked up, only to sit in an airport for hours. And I have this sinking feeling I'm gonna be dealing with this shit for the rest of my life."

Billy lets out a sigh, his finger tangling a little tighter through your curls; hips working just the slightest bit harder. His cock is stiff, rock hard in his practically painted-on Levi's jeans. You zip the big compartment of your luggage shut.

"I have had a long week at work. A long fuckin' year actually. I need this vacation. So, Billy... If you wouldn't mind taking a seat in the living room-."

"Excuse me?" He cuts you off, releasing his grip on your hair as you yank the small pouch open.

"I'm gonna take care of myself. M'kay!" You backchat; drawing out your vibrator, tossing it to the head of the bed.

"Jesus, Y/n," he gripes. A mix of annoyance and lust.

Turning around, you slink your hand up his thigh, landing on his dick; a rough enough touch for him to suck in a little air. He looks down, eyeing your hand on him. He tilts his head slightly, a wicked smile rolling across his lips.

"Get out, baby. Don't worry. I'll be fast. I'd hate to be only three hours and fifty-five minutes early. I mean Jesus Christ that'd be a fuckin' tragedy," you whisper; lips, brushing over his.

Looping your finger under your skirt you tug your panties over your hips watching as they fall to your feet, landing on Billy's foot. White lace atop his black leather boot.

He reaches for you again as you crawl onto the bed; his strong hand instantly tracing up your inner thigh; fingers, working softly over your slit as you move out of reach.

"5 minutes, baby. Then we're heading out," he smirks; continuing to fuck with you. He was already going to cave, the second he stepped into the room; you know exactly what he is waiting for... He wants you to beg.

"Sounds good," you smile as you brush the straps of your dress off your shoulders, letting the paisley material fall; exposing your white lace bra.

Billy's eyes darken; he wets his bottom lip with a smile.

You reach around your back, unclasping your bra; flicking it to the side. Your breasts bounce as you find the perfect position on the mattress. Billy smirks, casting his gaze away; shaking his head dizzily.

Relaxing into the pillows, you draw your legs up. Guiding the vibrator to your pussy you slide it effortlessly along your slick.

Now who's teasing who, Hargrove?

"You wouldn't." His eyes snap to yours.

"I would," you breathe as you flick it on, pressing the soft tip through your entrance. Your breath catches as you're met with rotations and vibrations; the toy starts to work its magic on you Your eyes shut softly.

Your hand drifts up your body gradually; fingers, reaching the blush of your breast, tracing your nipple slowly. Proceeding to the other side you tweak your nipple, rolling softly. A breathy moan slips your lips.

You can hear his feet, nearing your side of the bed. His presence is palpable; breathing softly. Billy's cologne delights your senses as well; warm vanilla, smoke, and leather, furthering your fire. An absolutely intoxicating scent.

"Fuck, Billy..." You whimper.

Do you say my name whenever you use your toys, baby?" He rasps.

"Oh my god," you sough; disregarding the question.

"Y/n; baby?" He breathes.

You turn it up a little higher; the buzzing noise loudens. Working the vibrator in and out, your thighs start to quiver.

He can hear how drenched you are; you, no longer frustrated, getting off on the idea of him it watching. "Shit," you hiss; flicking your eyes down, watching the blue shimmery silicone glimmering with your essence.

He's frustrated... You can see it in his eyes. A battle of stubbornness, wanting you to beg for him; wanting desperately to cave himself.

Your breathing starts to increase; your eyes shut again. Billy lets out a growl. His hand brushes yours; your eyes flick open watching as he mounts the bed; body hovering over you. Billy presses his lips against yours, taking the vibrator off your hands.

You smile against his lips; giggling delightedly. He draws it out fast, your breath escapes your chest.

"Billy! What the fuck?" You cry, breathlessly. He lets out a sinful chuckle against your lips, turning it off. "You're a fucking dick."

You push past him to stand up; Billy grabs your shoulder, forcing you back down on the bed, pressing you into the pillows roughly.

Fuck...

"You're stubborn, Y/n. And now, you're gonna beg."

You roll your eyes bringing your free hand up to your lips. Running two fingers along your tongue.

"The fuck I will..." You breathe; dragging your hand down to your cunt, continuing where you left off.

Billy steps off the bed, vibrator in hand; walking toward the door. "3 minutes, baby. Then we're heading out."

"Sounds good," you sing; pulling the drawer of your nightstand open roughly, allowing the knick-knacks to clatter inside; stopping Billy in his tracks.

"Mmm..." You whirr; drawing out a pink rabbit vibrator, turning it on.

BUZZ.

He turns around slowly, his eyes shifting to yours. You challenge him with your stare, lifting an eyebrow.

Billy walks toward you; eyes, driving into yours.

He stares down at you, watching you carefully as your pleasure begins to build again. Billy's rough finger meets your arm, tracing softly to your hand.

"Shit!" You gasp; Billy takes a rough grip on your wrist, taking you in shock.

"Drop. It."

"No."

"You're such a fucking brat," he snips; making you chuckle.

"A-And?" You stutter as your bliss builds.

"Why are you like this?" He laments; eyes, falling down your body; breasts jostling with each thrust of the toy.

"Why are you surprised?"

"God you're so fucking hot," he moans; his lips crash against yours; tongue swirling as you continue to play with yourself.

Billy pushes his hand between your thighs, taking it from you as you kiss; Billy, willingly accepts defeat. The only man you'll ever beg for. The man that owns your heart.

"Please don't stop," you plead; panting against his lips. You feel his smile, the two of you getting what you wanted.

"I love you, baby," he rasps.

"I love you too."

Billy thrusts it in at the perfect angle, the head of the vibration swirling against your G-spot; bunny ear; flicking at your clit.

Your stomach starts to coil; back, arching off the bed. "Are you gonna cum, Y/n?" Billy grunts as he continues to rut in and out.

"Mhmm," is all you can muster. "Fuck!" You whine as Billy turns it up higher. Your damn break; orgasm, ringing through your body as you flutter around the toy, moaning into your kiss.

"Holy shit... Fuck, Billy..." You ride the waves of your orgasm. Your body relaxes slightly; a little whimper releases against Billy's lips.

He moves lower on the bed, his pupils blown with lust. Billy dives his forearms underneath your thighs pulling you toward his lips.

More? Fuck...

He flattens his tongue, licking a line up your silk causing you to wail.

"Fuck, you're sweet," he moans; his eyes hooded. Billy curls his arms, forcing you closer as he locks onto your sensitive bud; sucking and flicking his tongue as you scream his name. He chuckles against your pussy.

Billy grabs your legs, slinging them over his shoulders. His fingers reach your skin; trailing dangerously close to where you're craving him most.

Reaching down you run your fingers through his hair, giving it a little tug. Billy groans, as a result, the vibrations make your eyes roll back.

His fingers swirl around your entrance, plunging in; one then two, a slight curl as you feel yourself nearing your peak again.

His thick fingers work against your g-spot causing you to dig your heels into his back. "Billy... I'm... I. Fuck!" Your second orgasm hits you harder than your first.

Billy continues to please you with a little more pressure, brushing his tongue from side to side as your body tightens around his fingers.

"Mmm... That's it, baby," he groans as you ride out your second release. Your heart, beating rapidly; reaching for a breath.

Billy presses his lips against your clit softly. His mouth, drifts higher and higher; showering you with kisses as he nears your lips.

You cup his cheeks, drawing him nearer. Billy kisses you deeply, relaxing his body into yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck you hug him tightly, craving his weight on top of you; the ultimate comfort.

"You are impossible," he grumbles; his lips, meeting your neck. He nips at your skin, just enough to pinch. You reach around, slapping him roughly on the ass. "Jesus," he whines; quickly returning to your lips.

"You're not giving me credit, Bills. I totally gave in."

"No, you didn't. Not until I fucking caved," he chuckles against your kiss.

"Mmm... That's true. So I won then?"

"No, I won, Y/n. The day I met you..." He buttons his lip, trying not to laugh.

"Ew..." You snicker; shaking your head 'no'. "That was so cheesy... " you bully.

He smiles warmly, giving you another kiss; a little softer, lingering a little longer. "You are perfect, Y/n," he sighs against your lips.

"So are you, Billy."

#billy hargrove blurb #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove boyfriend #billy hargrove filth #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x female reader #billy x reader #smut writing #smut warning #stranger things smut

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cobaltperun · 5 months

Text

Lost (17) - Satellite

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 5k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-That's why we won't back down we won't run and hide-

Telling Chad you’d be fine without him, that he should focus on protecting Mindy and Anika in case anyone went after them was a right thing to do, but you still had no idea what to do. How to find Ghostfaces targeting you this time, or how to avoid them, you were stuck at the moment.

But, as the three of you left the hospital you saw her… Gale, like a reporter shark that she was, smelled blood and found you before any other reporter could.

“I heard what happened, are you okay?” she walked up to you, at least she didn’t have her equipment with her.

“Gale, I swear,” Sam had no patience to deal with the woman right now, frankly, neither did you and Tara.

Gale immediately raised her hands in surrender. “Truce, okay? I’m- I’m here for whatever you need,” she said that, but, well, you’ve seen Gale going back on her word before.

“Just like last time,” you said, already trying to spot a cab that would take you back to the apartment. Or anywhere else really. Staying near the hospital could put your friends at risk.

“Okay fine, off the records, okay?” she offered and well, you were stuck and all four of you knew that.

Sam sighed, nodding slightly. “Fine. Thank you,” she agreed.

Gale glanced at Tara.

“Nope! That punch was beautiful, and you will not be getting an apology for it!” you interrupted before Tara could even begin to utter an apology she didn’t mean anyway.

Gale chuckled and shook her head, expecting as much from you and Tara.

Mere seconds later you saw a cop car stopping and Kirby and Bailey stepping out, and that’s how the six of you ended up following Gale’s lead and going to a former movie theater turned shrine for Ghostface.

You felt sick. Angry that someone could actually worship these monsters. So many people died. Everyone in this theater, aside from Bailey, was attacked at least once. You kept an eye on others, on Gale as she passed by Dewey's photos or her own books. On Kirby and Bailey as they focused on whatever grabbed their interests. On Sam as she went and touched the glass case holding Billy's mannequin. On Tara as she went over to Sam.

You were stuck observing crime scene photos from when Amber attacked Tara. You saw Tara's wounds, you knew minute details of each and every scar she had. You never saw the photos of her house from that night. It looked even worse than it did when you went to clean the house, it looked fresh, the blood was still not dry. You clenched your fists, wishing you shot Amber, you wished you could go back and finish her off instead of forcing Tara to do it.

You saw Tara going outside and were about to follow her when your phone rang. This time you checked the ID and saw it was Thomas. His timing really was the worst. With a groan, you answered the phone.

"Hey, Y/N, sorry to call like this, but I heard you didn't go to the gym last night," he opened up with that right away.

"Yeah, sorry, something came up," you didn't sound sorry at all, you'd abandon the gym a hundred times over if needed.

"Look, I know these past two weeks have been tough and I may have asked too much of you-" you really didn't feel like having this conversation.

"I'm busy right now, we'll talk later," you hung up before he could even respond to that. Since your phone was already in your hand you tried to call Susan one more time, but, as it always did these past two days, it just went to voicemail. "Fuck!" you cursed and stuffed your phone in your pocket.

"Troubles?" Bailey asked and you just now realized you were alone with him.

"Are you asking or questioning me?" you still didn't know where the police tracker came from. There was no way you were trusting anyone.

"Just asking, sorry if I'm overstepping," he raised his hands.

You nodded. "You are overstepping," you said and tilted your head in the direction Tara and others went. "After you."

He sighed, but otherwise remained silent and complied with your wishes. The two of you found Sam and Gale in the midst of, from what you could see, burying the hatchet.

"Where's Tara?" you asked right away, honestly hoping you didn't all walk into a trap set by Ghostface.

"Kirby is with her, they went upstairs, wherever that leads," Sam told you and you tried not to panic. Kirby survived a Ghostface attack herself, surely she wouldn’t be a Ghostface, right?

"I think I have a plan how to catch these fuckers," Bailey said and you desperately wanted to agree with the plan. The sooner this was over the better.

~X~

You absolutely hated the plan Bailey had. And you were vocal about it. So, here you were, at the park, next to the van Kirby would trace the call from with Tara trying one last time to get her to change her mind.

"Tara, please, at least think this through," you pleaded, already certain you were wasting your breath, but you couldn't just give up.

"I thought it through, Y/N, I'm staying with Sam," Tara leaned against the van with her arms crossed over her chest. She refused to look at you, but you saw the furrow of her brows, you saw her biting her lower lip, and you knew she was getting angry.

You’d still take her being angry at you over her being in danger. "It's dangerous, at least let me come with you," if you couldn't get her to stay safe, then you might be able to convince her to let you come with her and Sam.

"It won't work if you're there. You can fight them," Tara huffed, clearly getting even more frustrated as you kept arguing. The two of you had been going back and forth on this ever since Bailey proposed the plan and she decided she wouldn't let Sam do it alone.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling a headache over this whole plan. And they weren't even out in the open yet. "I don't want you to get hurt."

Tara narrowed her eyes at that. "And it's fine if Sam gets hurt?!" she raised her voice and tightly gripped her left biceps.

"I didn't say that," you took a step back, trying to cool your head at least a bit.

"No, but you think I could get hurt, so you think Sam could get hurt and you're not trying to convince her not to do it," Tara took a few deep breaths.

"You and I both know I'd much rather take Sam's place, but no, Ghostface is after her so anyone else won't do!" you yelled, what little cool you managed to regain fading away way too quickly for your liking.

"Like you left last night? Right? Like how you chose to put yourself in danger even after you saw there was a tracker on your car?! Do you even understand how worried I was?!" somehow this was reminding you of the night you told Tara you were retiring from MMA.

"I fucked up, okay?" you spread your arms for a moment then let them drop at your sides. "I thought they'd try to finish me off first and figured I could use the opportunity."

"Yeah, you thought putting yourself in danger and possibly fighting someone that defeated you before was okay, but this isn't?" Tara asked incredulously.

"So, your solution is to go ahead and do something equally reckless? Is that what you're saying, Tara?" you had no idea how you weren't already shouting. You felt like screaming, but you still didn't shout, if for no other reason than because you didn’t want unwanted attention on the two of you.

"She's my sister, Y/N! I'm her backup, and if it comes down to it, we'll keep each other safe!" Tara yelled and, perhaps to avoid arguing further began walking toward where Sam was getting ready with Kirby and Bailey.

"Yeah, because being with Sam sure kept you safe every time Ghostface was involved!" you just snapped and watched as Tara turned around.

She was glaring at you. "Don't you fucking dare, Y/N," she warned, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

For once you glared back. "Am I wrong?" you challenged. As long as you could move and you were there no one, not Amber, not Richie, not whoever these Ghostfaces were, managed to touch her, let alone hurt her. Sam didn’t have the same track record.

Tara reached you, anger evident in her eyes, and then, as if she just made that decision at that exact moment, swung her palm toward your face. You caught her wrist, entirely unimpressed with how telegraphed the attempted slap was. "Don't ever try that again," you let go of her wrist and climbed into the van, shutting the door behind you, you missed the way Tara looked down at her palm, horrified by what she just tried to do.

You slumped down and absentmindedly touched the scar on the right side of your jaw. Once again you called Susan, once again you were left in silence. You looked at the last text exchange you had with her, the word fun popping up for some reason. Maybe you should take that vacation the moment this all ends, or at least the moment everyone heals up. Maybe spend a week or two in Sacramento, only you and Susan, and then come back to New York with her for Thanksgiving.

Maybe taking that small break from one another's company would be good for Tara, after all this wasn't the first fight in the past few days, and that one was before you even knew Ghostface was back. Sure, you talked it out and kissed it better, but this one just brought it back to your mind.

You only opened your eyes when you heard the doors opening because you wanted to be sure Kirby was the one coming in.

"You look awful," she commented.

"You look like it's none of your business," you replied, not really in the mood to discuss this with her.

"Someone's cranky," she just shrugged, and you chose not to respond.

Too much time passed before Ghostface finally called, bragging about being a step ahead. And he was. He went after Gale. Bailey got in the van and turned the engine on.

"Where are Tara and Sam?!" you jumped to your feet when you saw he was alone. Your blood pressure probably skyrocketed as the worst possible scenarios came to your mind.

"They stole my car!" he exclaimed.

At this rate, you were going to have a heart attack. "Who's driving?!"

"Tara," that girl was going to be the death of you.

"Are you crazy?! Tara can't drive! How are you even a cop you incompetent fuck?! How could someone just steal your damn car?!" a rage-fueled part of your brain cynically told you this was to be expected. That you should have realized Tara was too reckless to consider her own safety even back when she stubbornly convinced you to take her with you when you went after Sam back to Woodsboro after she just barely survived two attacks and had a broken leg. That you should have realized it when she first disappeared and went to a party with complete strangers.

When you finally reached Gale's apartment building you saw Tara and Sam sitting in the hall and you ran up to them.

Tara looked up when she heard you, or rather the running, and she got up, rushing to meet you halfway, only to stop, as if suddenly remembering the last interaction you had. You took a deep breath and just pulled her into a hug. She quietly sobbed into your chest as you held her.

"Is Gale still alive?" you asked softly and relaxed when Tara nodded.

"She was seriously injured, but she should be fine," she told you when you released her, your heart cracking a bit when you saw the pain in her eyes when you pulled away. With a hand on her back, you led her back to where Sam was still sitting.

"Hey," you squeezed Sam's shoulder, hoping to comfort her a bit.

"Hey, sorry we left you with Kirby and Bailey," she apologized and placed her hand on top of yours for a moment. You just nodded and sat down with Tara. There would be a better, more appropriate time to tackle that reckless decision.

Soon enough you saw Danny running in. "Hey, I came as soon as I could," he ran up to the three of you, looking mostly at Sam.

"Did you?" Tara challenged and he just looked at her, perhaps knowing better than to add fuel to the fire.

"More importantly, what now?" you chose to save him from Tara's anger.

"Maybe he gets to win this time," Sam's words made alarms go off in your head as you turned to look at her.

"What?" you demanded, not quite sure if it was just your exhaustion catching up to you, or if Sam actually just said that.

"He wants to punish me," she explained, on the verge of tears. "Me," she stood up and faced Tara and you. "So maybe I let him. I'll just give myself up."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing and for a split second, you wondered if Sam lost her mind. "Fuck that! Who do you think you are, huh?!" you got up and stormed away from Sam. "Giving herself up? Unbelievable!"

"If this is what it takes to keep you safe, it's worth it," the only reason you weren't yelling that she was out of her mind was because she was crying. Sam was crying and you rarely saw that.

You couldn't convince her, so you'd leave it to Tara and maybe scold her once this was all over.

Tara stood up and approached Sam. "No, we're not doing that, Sam. You went back to Woodsboro to protect me. Every single day you make the decision to protect me. None of us would even be alive if it weren't for you. You have to let us protect you this time," Tara told her without a single hint of doubt in her words.

"No," Sam said weakly.

"Yes," Tara said firmly and from the corner of your eye you saw her pulling Sam into a hug. "We're a team, remember? I can't lose you, Sam, it feels like I just got you back in my life."

That was definitely going to work. The question remained though. What to do next?

"He's gonna keep coming after us," Sam pointed out while hugging Tara back.

"We could use that, though," Tara said and somehow you just had the feeling she was about to suggest something reckless before she even spoke up.

The plan? That involved Bailey and Kirby? Lure Ghostface into the movie theatre they used as a shrine and execute them. When Tara said she intended to execute Ghostface you looked at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and just accepted it.

'At this point, the best I can do is be the fucking bodyguard,' a moment later you wondered when was the last time you cursed this much. "Right, off to the murder shrine, where we'll definitely have the upper hand," you couldn't help but grumble.

~X~

You drove to the murder shrine, in your car, just you, Tara, Sam, and Danny. No public transport. Nope. none of that. You were not about to be suspicious of every stranger on the train.

When you parked outside the theatre you saw Kirby waiting for you.

"I talked to Bailey, let's get you all inside," she went right down to business, but Sam abruptly turned around and faced Danny.

"Not you," she said.

"What?" he asked.

"Don't trust anyone, remember? We don't know you, not really," she told him.

"I don't know, Sam, we could use extra muscle," you still weren't sure you could defeat that Ghostface in a one-on-one, let alone with at least two more on his side.

"Y/N is right and you know me," Danny tried to convince her.

"You're not Woodsboro. I'm sorry," Sam wasn't listening.

"It's okay. It's okay, I get it. Just be safe, okay?" he kissed her cheek.

Sam nodded. "You too," with that, she turned around and the rest of you followed, leaving Danny behind.

"Good call," Kirby said as the four of you entered the theatre.

~X~

Things just kept getting better and better, Kirby was the only one with a gun, the only one with any weapon, really, and you only had one exit, that could be blocked fairly easily.

Perhaps seeing the tense look on your face prompted her to do it, but Tara took your hand and pulled at it, frowning when you didn't comply. "Come with me for a minute?" she requested, looking softly into your eyes.

"Now? You want to separate from Sam now?" you couldn't help but ask.

"Please, Y/N," you could never resist her for long. Thus, you complied, letting her lead you outside of the shrine and into the hall where you figured tickets used to be sold. "You're stressed," she said, not quite getting into your personal space, but still remaining close to you.

"Can you honestly blame me? I'm one bad thing away from just breaking down, Tara. I'm just tired," the first time this happened you had moments to rest, you slept, and you felt safe at Susan's place, for the last twenty-four hours even when you weren't in constant danger you were either arguing with Tara or trying to reach Susan.

Sure, you slept yesterday, but that was over thirty hours ago at this point and you were really feeling the stress that accumulated over the past two weeks.

"It'll be over soon," she said, reaching up to touch your cheek, but stopping mere inches away from it. As if trying to slap you suddenly put an invisible barrier between you that was only temporarily broken by the adrenaline caused by what happened to Gale.

For once, you chose not to lean into her touch. "Let's go back to Sam," you said, and Tara nodded, lowering her hand. She walked in front of you, and you went back to the shrine to see Sam running toward the doors you just walked through with a knife in her hand.

You were immediately looking around, trying to see if she was running from someone, but somehow you couldn't see anyone.

"It's Kirby! She made this whole theatre a kill box, for us!" Sam explained rapidly.

"What?" you asked, but it made sense. The police tracker on your car, only Kirby having a gun, locking you here...

"Bailey is on the way here, but-" Sam continued as you went back to the middle of the shrine.

"Stay back to back," you interrupted her and the three of you stood in a circle, making sure you had each other's back.

"Wait, wasn't it Bailey's idea to use you as bait?" Tara reminded Sam.

"And Kirby refused to let Gale come with us," Sam said, frantically looking around for any trace of Kirby.

"Unless he figured that's what would happen. Just to be sure, how about we don't trust either of them?" you suggested, and she was alone with Tara, but she would have to be stupid to just try and kill Tara before.

Tara nodded and you felt her brushing her fingers over your hand.

You took and squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Ghostface appears you stay still, you hear me. Don't make sudden moves," you could pull either of them behind you and counter-attack at any time, you just needed them to stay calm.

You heard footsteps coming from your left, where Sam was and you moved, getting between the masked attacker and her just in time to catch his fist and punch his face. "Fuck running, I'm fighting you head-on," you said as he stumbled back, from the grunt of pain you figured this was probably the one you stabbed last night.

The second one jumped out, but they didn't attack, choosing to circle the three of you instead.

"Sam, Y/N," Tara was close to panicking and you knew why. The third one. He still wasn't there.

"I need you to be ready! You ready?" Sam asked she had her back to Tara's while you moved to stand closer to the front of her while not blocking her direct line of sight. Sam even handed Tara a brick.

Tara took a deep breath. "I'm ready," she took another deep breath. "Come on motherfuckers!" unnecessary, but as long as she was calm and ready. Or at least ready.

Shooting made both Ghostfaces take cover and you turned to see Kirby, bleeding from the side of her head, and more importantly with a gun in her hands.

Somehow, you relaxed, if she wanted to shoot you, she probably would have done it and used the element of surprise.

"Maybe it's not you after all," you said and turned to Sam. "Come on, what's the point of keeping cover at this point? Your aim really sucks though. Not even one bullet hit them," you said, you'd still keep your guard up around her, but for now you figured you could tentatively trust her.

"My head is bleeding, Y/N," she deadpanned.

"Meh, excuses," you replied.

"Kirby, get away from the girls!" Bailey rushed in, with his gun raised.

"Whatever you think, I'm not the killer!" Kirby quickly denied any involvement in this mess. "I don't know what he's been telling you, but don't listen to him!"

And then the third Ghostface, the one you were the most worried about, came up behind Bailey.

"Behind you!" Kirby yelled only for Bailey to shoot her.

"Great job, you three," Bailey said as the three Ghostfaces stood by his side.

'Right, this is happening. Four of them, just great,' you thought as you fully expected Bailey to point his gun at the three of you.

"You?" Tara asked, and you shared her disbelief, after all Bailey had no reason to go after you.

"Yeah, of course, it's me. Frankly, I expected more from you after what you did to us," he declared, as if this was reasonable, as if they should have expected him to be the Ghostface.

"Us?" Sam repeated.

"Let me guess, Quinn?" you figured since he was saying 'us' maybe his daughter was involved as well.

Indeed, the Ghostface to Bailey's right took the mask off, and sure enough, it was Quinn. "Hello, almost roomies. Too bad I couldn't resist messing with you when we met, but it was a good way to not be on the suspect list," she said.

You narrowed your eyes, realizing that this might actually be worse, because this now meant anyone could be a Ghostface, that they no longer played by the rules and skipped getting close to you and becoming a part of the friend group.

Then the Ghostface to Bailey's left took off his mask. "Mindy was right, it was easy to juke the roommate lottery!" Ethan exclaimed. "All I had to do to get close to you was room with a conceited, condescending alpha, literally named Chad. Fuck, I can't wait to kill him!" he pointed the knife at the mask he was holding. "This was your grandmother's Sam. Nancy Loomis. Really runs in your fucking family, doesn't it? Speaking of family..."

"Wait for it," Bailey chimed in.

"My name isn't Ethan Landry, is it dad?" and Bailey just laughed at that, as if there was actually something funny.

"Dad?" Tara's eyes widened.

"And then they tell Sam it runs in her family," you sighed as Ethan and Quinn began pacing around once again. You remained focused on the only remaining masked one.

Bailey explained his plan, saying how they were counting down to Billy's mask. Jason and Greg, bodega, Sam's therapist, your shared apartment, that was four, with four of them there were now eight masks. The idea that one, Amber's mask, was still missing worried you. Was Gale the ninth mask? That didn't make sense, no mask was left behind and it was the last attack, not the first as the countdown should imply.

Convinced that the fourth one was content with watching you began walking around Tara and Sam, keeping light on your feet, and making sure Quinn and Ethan were on your opposite sides the whole time. This way you could react to either of them attacking. They wouldn't be allowed to touch either Tara or Sam, not with you right there.

"I'm gonna need you to put it on," Bailey offered the mask to Sam, but she slapped it out of his hand.

Ethan went in to slash her, but you stepped in, making him halt before he could reach you. "How are the wounds?" you taunted and just as it looked like he was about to back away the fourth one spoke, still using the voice changer.

"Step back, she'll just hit you again," he warned, actually sounding amused, and though it was clear Ethan didn't like that, he did step away.

Their plan was insane, though it was working out well for them so far. They ruined Sam's reputation, courtesy of Quinn's efforts, and as Ethan explained it further Quinn made a mock attempt to stab Tara.

You once again moved in time, regardless of her intentions, and pulled Tara behind you.

"Truly a guard dog," Quinn mocked and that's when it all clicked for all three of you.

They weren't Amber's family, but... "You're Richie's family," Sam realized.

"Yeah," Bailey said slowly, just for a moment showing the pain of losing his family.

"Ding, ding, ding!" not liking the enthusiasm Ethan had when he said it you stopped between him and Sam, he seemed ready to lunge at you, but the warning he got before kept him at bay, at least for now.

"Now! It wasn't until I saw those photographs of what you did to him that I knew! I knew you had to die for what you did to him! You had to be punished!" Bailey yelled, angry at Sam for what she did to his son. You could say you blamed him, but you still weren’t about to let him or his children hurt Tara and Sam.

"Real great parenting, by the way," Tara commented.

"Shut your whore mouth!" Quinn screamed at her. Ah, so she was the one that called you.

"And you? What's your deal?" you gestured toward the still masked Ghostface, interrupting whatever Bailey was about to say.

"You really should have figured it out by now. I get that you probably didn't want to consider it since I did help you out so much," he removed the mask.

Your jaw dropped slightly as you recognized Thomas. Honestly, you should have seen it coming just from how well the bastard fought. "What the fuck?" you couldn't help but ask. "Are you kidding me right now? Do you have any idea how bad it'll look when I end up putting 'Killed my employer' down as the reason for unemployment?" why was he even after you. Richie's family you could understand on some level, they were the bastard's family, but Thomas? Really?

Thomas actually genuinly laughed at that. "Trust me, that's the least of your worries, Y/N," he said and held up a paper bag for you to see. "You wondered where Amber's mask ended up?" the smirk on his face, the tone of his voice, it all made you feel unexplainable dread. "Take a good look," he opened the bag and turned it over, letting a very familiar pair of MMA gloves fall to the dirty floor.

Despite Tara's attempt to grab your hand you took steps forward, stopping right between Tara and Sam and the gloves at Thomas' feet. "Susan," your throat was dry when you said her name.

"Exactly, it's been four days now, just so you know why she hasn't been responding all this time," he was taunting you. He was amused by your failure to figure out what happened to Susan.

"Why?! What did she ever do to any of you?!" you weren't the one asking that, it was Tara.

You just stared at the gloves, barely even registering your surroundings. If anyone wanted to kill you, well, there wasn't a better opportunity than this very moment.

"It's simple really. Susan was the only one who'd always, no matter what, no matter what the other choice is, choose Y/N. Your friends won't, Samantha won't, not even you would Tara. It would hurt you, you'd never forgive yourself, but you'd choose Samantha in the end," he turned to you as Tara remained silent. "Parents? Oh, they really don't care. Zack and Susan? Dead. You can try to deny it all you want, but the only reason you are still alive is because you were strong enough to survive on your own. Twice now you were stuck with me, no one came to help. Your girlfriend put up a better fight to protect a friend than she did to protect you. You are alone, Y/N, and you threw everything you could have been for nothing. Quite frankly, what I'm about to do is a mercy kill."

You heard everything he said and you relaxed. There was nothing. No rage. No despair. No remorse. No sorrow. Nothing. Just an empty state of mindlessness.

"That's it," Thomas grinned, tossing aside his robes. Then his eyes abruptly widened. "Wait, Quinn!"

"Y/N!" you heard Tara and Sam's scream.

You glanced to your left and focused on nothing but the blade that was approaching you.

A/N: Here's a fun question, how much would Tara suffer if she had to choose between Sam and Reader?

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter #scream #sam carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #x reader

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marvelwitchergilmore · 6 months

Text

Don't Waste A Second

Summary: Billy the Kid x Fe!Reader -> You and Billy have been close for a while now, but what happens when your life is put in danger and he has to bargain for your life?

Disclaimer: MDNI: Criminal Minds level (16+ subjects mentioned although not all are carried out, just (kind of) talked about. ANGST, self-deprecation though Billy won't stand for it. Talks of death, blood, gore and gunfire. Fluff splattered around. Not proof read.

First came the sound of gun fire.

Your heart leaped from your chest and you could feel every morsel of your being being pumped with adrenaline by the minute.

The head of the rival gang in town sat beside you until he heard the second gun shot before he himself stood and brought you with him.

“You’re my leverage for my life, woman. Say a word and I will kill you myself.”

It wasn't long until the owner of the gunshots appeared by the door.

“Well, if it isn’t the Kid himself?”

“Let her go.”

He pulled you higher to his head. Even with a shot like Billy’s, this could pose a danger if he wasn’t careful.

“Ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Let her go.”

“Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?”

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to kidnap women?” You spoke before you even thought.

“I thought I told you to shut up!”

“Hey!” Billy had the man’s attention once more. “You don’t talk to her. You talk to me. I’m the one you have a problem with.”

“Which makes it all the more fun having her here, right by my side.”

Billy raised his gun a little higher.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. One wrong move and the bullet goes straight through her skull.”

That made Billy falter a little.

“Now, I know better than anyone that you have a little soft spot for her, so how about we cut a deal?”

“It’s not worth it, Billy.”

“Shut up!”

“I’m not worth it, Billy. Don’t do it. No matter what he says.”

“I thought I told you to shut it!”

The man’s hands dragged roughly around your neck, forcing you to look at the rotting ceiling.

“Please, Billy. Don’t do it.”

“How much is she worth to you, Billy? Huh? Lookin at her, I’d only give a couple bucks but I have a feeling she means more to you than just a few crummy dollars. What do you say, Kid?”

Whilst the man was talking, you were able to move your hands just enough to remove the silver knife from his pocket. The one he had been spinning in his hands just moments before Billy’s gunshot rang through the house.

“You got it?”

The man thought he was talking to him, but then you replied.

“Yep.”

In less than 3 seconds, the man felt a sharp stab go into his thigh causing his grip to loosen allowing you a swift escape. However, not before you took the opportunity to drag the blade down his leg, opening the wound further allowing Billy a clear shot of the man’s head if he wanted to take it.

And he did.

Moments later, the body dropped in front of you and you scrambled back on all fours until you got to your knees and found Billy level with you in height.

He pushed your dirty hair from your face, and checked you over for any visible wounds. There was none yet, that he could see.

“Let’s go home.”

Hours later, you found yourself washed and dressed whilst Billy tended to some of your larger wounds.

When you had been getting washed, you hadn’t noticed Billy sneak a glance through the gap in the clothing divider. He saw the blood. He saw the brides. He saw the scars.

Then he heard your voice, trying to be quiet in its pain as you lowered yourself into the tub and tried to clean yourself off.

He had asked if you needed any help, but you were stubborn. He knew your answer before you even gave it.

But he gave you no choice afterwards. He would tend to your woods and that was final.

So, sitting beside him on the worn sofa whilst the fire crackled to keep you both warm. Billy pressed some ointment to the scars that littered the side of your body.

He had called for the town doctor to come and see you. Of course, he came right away and saw to you- at least, what you would show him. He gave you a small prescription for the pain and some cream that would help keep the wounds clean until they finally healed.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Did they…did they do anything to you?”

“Billy. You are applying ointment to my scars and my body is covered in bruises. You’re seriously-“

“Did they touch you?”

You sighed, and moved a little to lift your shirt back up. “No. Not in that way. Though I doubt it would have been long before they did.”

A silence fell over you both once more, Billy breaking it a few minutes later.

“What did you mean before?”

“Before what?”

Billy sighed and replaced the lid on the tin of ointment. Resting his arms on his knees, he leaned forwards and pressed his hands together. You lowered your shirt and looked at him.

“Before, when he had you…he tried to make a bargain for your life. You said it wasn’t worth it. That you weren’t worth it. Why did you say that?”

“Because it’s true. Because I’m not.”

“But you are.”

Billy took your hand in his as he spoke to you.

“Billy,” you chuckled a little. “ I teach five days a week at the local school. I serve people drinks on the weekends. People come and go and I am still always asked about who I am. I am…me. I’m nobody important.”

“You’re important to me.”

You paused when Billy looked you in the eyes. His hands still held yours.

“You are everything to me, you hear? Everything. I haven’t been in the same spot since I was a kid. The reason and the only reason behind that is you. You are the reason I stayed. You are the reason I wake up in the morning and make sure everyone is safe in this town because even if just one of them isn’t, then that puts you in danger. I never wanted to see your life be put in danger because of me. You are everything to me, Miss Y/N Y/L/N. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Billy,”

“I mean it, Y/N. You have my whole life. You are my whole life.”

In that moment, a whole other silence took over and you found Billy moving closer to you and found yourself doing the same to him.

He paused for a moment, your noses brushing. He questioned you with his eyes. He needed to know if he was about to be kissed back or punched.

Instead, he saw you nod slightly and he moved in, pressing a kiss to your lips before his hand came to the side of your face to draw you in closer.

Of course, you had been fond of Billy since the moment you met him. But you didn’t realise you loved him until just a few moments before you found yourself being towed away by a stranger, who had first told you he was one of the children’s uncles - a child who you taught at school and helped out with after class when he couldn’t just quite find the confidence to read out in class, causing his stutter to worsen.

Billy knew the moment he stepped foot on the school grounds something was wrong. Like it was in the air, or something.

He held a freshly picked bunch of wild flowers he’d found riding through the hills on his way to meet you. He did this every time, and everytime the pick would be different. He knew you didn’t like gifts - he had heard as much from the town’s local gossip woman when he stopped by her store to pick up some fresh dressings.

At the time, you had just walked past the store. All Billy had to do was turn around to see when the woman was staring at and found you, with your head buried against a pile of papers and a pencil in your hand, scribbling away as you managed to avoid almost everything that stood in your way.

“I heard she was engaged once to some fella outside of New York.”

“You hear right.” the woman told the people in the store. “Apparently he broke her heart and she came out here to teach our kids.”

“What did she do back in New York?”

“Governess from what I heard. But the kids grew up, that was just before her engagement.”

Billy would come to learn that the ‘fella’ you were engaged to did break your heart, but not due to his own failings. He had been on a city inspection job when, during his inspection of one of the machines, a water pipe that ran directly under the building exploded.

Even if the shrapnel hadn't cut through his skin and caused him to bleed out, the weight of the machine that he fell into probably would have crushed him. He died later on in the hospital, but not before dictating very slowly to one of the nurses what he wished he could say to you first.

You had been given the letter by the nurse shortly after she found you in the waiting room after you had seen his body.

“Did she ever find anybody else?”

“A couple tried. Hell, some rich railway fella practically tossed diamonds at her feet, but she didn’t want them. She smiled, kissed them on the cheek and made her way back through town. All she does is work and sleep.”

Over some more comments made through the gossip fueled conversation, Billy came to learn that you didn’t like grand gifts or gestures. But rather, subtlety. Subtlety and truth.

On the weekends when you served multiple drinks, he got to know you and before both of you knew it, he was showing up outside of school when you finished teaching and one day, whilst on a ride back into town, he brought with him a bunch of flowers, just because.

A few hours later when he rode past your house, he found them in a vase in your kitchen window.

So, after months of being friends with one another, and having a yearning for more, it came to your realisation that, even just the thought of Billy not turning up or not seeing him every day, knocked you sick.

There wasn’t a world where you didn’t want to be with him.

But, on your way out of the school gates, you were met with an ‘Uncle’.

Pulling back from the kiss, you kept your head against Billy’s. “Wait.”

“I’m sorry, we shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have-”

“No, Billy. It’s not that. I just…”

You pulled back but kept your eyes fixed on Billy, only tearing them away for a moment as you looked to his hand that you took in yours.

“I need to know that you’re being truthful with me and not just saying all of this because of what happened today. Because, if it’s true, then there are more than just your feelings in this. I just…I don’t want to be hurt, Billy.”

“Darlin’, look at me?”

You looked up and Billy cupped one of your cheeks in his hand. “Everything I have just told you…it’s all true. Even if today hadn't happened, I would have told you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long, but I was being a coward. I love you.”

The next moment felt like an eternity for Billy, until finally, he found the light at the end of the tunnel.

“I love you, too, Billy.”

He didn’t have to think about what to do next. Pulling you in, he kissed you like he had waited a thousand years just to see you one last time.

And neither of you were going to waste a second.

#tom blyth #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x fe!reader #fluff #criminal minds level #mdni #falling in love #loss of past loves #angst #billy takes care of reader #billy the kid #tom blyth billy the kid #au billy the kid #wild west #cowboys #Don't Waste A Second #Don't Waste A Second: Billy the Kid

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ash5monster01 · 2 months

Text

Turnstiles

Chapter Four - I’ve Loved These Days 🎶

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, language, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death, abandonment issues, slight sadness.

Summary: You and Steve get your first place together and even if it isn’t glamorous, it’s good enough for the both of you as you leave the old days behind.

word count: 2.6k

Three ←→ Five

Masterlist

Summer 1988

We hide our hearts from harder times

There were so many boxes. It seemed to be a never ending pile from the back of the moving truck, one neither of you could really afford but needed. Even with Dustin and Robin helping carry each new box in, it seemed every time you returned to the truck there was just as many if not more. You couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped your lips as you looked at the very daunting pile that you knew would take you more than likely a month to finally put all in place.

“Don’t tell me we’re giving up already” that familiar sultry voice whispered in your ear, arms snaking around your waist from behind.

“Not giving up, just trying to gain the courage” you tell him, a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. You knew as much as Steve would try to help he would also play with everything he unpacked before actually putting it away, making the process much longer than it needed to be.

“It’s not that bad” Steve said with a soft shake of his head, small tufts of hair falling loose from the action.

“Yes it is, you packed every trophy you have ever earned in your entire life” you tell him, pointing to the large box labeled ‘Steve’s Achievements’.

“Hey I earned those, I can’t just throw them out” Steve pouts as you break out of his arms, doing your best attempt at climbing up into the truck to grab another box.

“I know handsome, I just have to tease” you say leaning down and he’s happy to bring his pouty lips to yours and leave a quick kiss. As much as you teased, you had felt bad. When Steve announced to his parents you were officially getting a place together they decided to put the house up for sale since they were never there anyways. As much as Steve didn’t have a great childhood it was still the only home he had ever known. You knew it took a toll on him and forced him to pack every single one of his belongings instead of the necessities.

“Hey dingus, why are we the only ones carrying shit?” Robin called out as she stepped out the doors of the small apartment, spotting you juggling a new box while Steve lingered at the back of the truck.

“I need my rest Robin, if Rosy’s shit wasn’t so heavy” he called back and you shot him a quick glare which made him laugh softly.

“You’re an idiot” Robin mumbled as you handed her the box in your arms and picked up a new one.

“What the hell Steve! Why are the girls the only one’s carrying your shit?” Dustin called out, exiting the home as well and you and Robin quickly erupt in giggles as Steve groans out.

“I don’t have a box in my arms for two seconds and I get harassed. What the hell is this?” Steve says mostly to himself, jumping up into the truck much easier than you did and you watch as he goes for one of the small boxes.

“Uh-uh mister. You’re bringing that one in” you say, nodding your head to the trophy box and Steve rolls his eyes before doing what he was told.

“God you’re so whipped” Robin snorts before starting back for the apartment ready to unload the boxes as fast as she can.

“I’m not whipped!” he called out quickly in defense but Dustin just laughed and grabbed a box for himself.

“It’s okay Stevie, you’re allowed to be whipped. I definitely am for you” you tell him sweetly and he grins, the oddly large trophy box now in his arms.

“I love you” he hums out, leaning and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before hopping out of the truck. Your heart flutters due to the sentiment, never getting tired of the words he finally spoke a year and a half ago. Well actually wrote but ever since then he told you every chance he got and you loved it every time.

It had been over three years since you met Steve Harrington and you were pretty sure you’d never get tired of him. He came to you when you needed him most and you did the same for him. Since that day you hadn’t spent a day apart and making this decision, deciding to live together, after years of working and saving money, you had no regrets at all. This was it, he was your soulmate and this was only the beginning of a lifetime of years ahead. Small apartment or not, he was yours and that alone was a breath of relief.

“Need an invitation?” Robin called to you from the small house and you just chuckled before grabbing your things and making your way to the house. A house that would probably hold you and Steve for another few years, be your shelter from the storm, and despite its empty walls and bare floors, you couldn’t wait to make it a home.

It’s dusk by the time all the boxes are unloaded into your home and Robin and Dustin are long gone. Just looking at the mess you know you’re too tired to face it until tomorrow, so you make do with what you have. You make quick work of making a bed of the mattress on the floor, saving the frame building for tomorrow. When it looks decent enough to sleep on you make your way out of your room to find Steve. Much to your surprise he’s in the living room, boxes now cleared off the coffee table, and take out from the local diner on the table.

“I made dinner” he grins at you, sitting on the ground as he pours you a glass of wine in a mug. You giggle at the thought of it being the only thing he could find and join him on the floor.

“What’s this for?” you curiously ask, taking the mug from his hand and smiling at the food and candle he had set up.

“This is to taking our time. The last few years have felt like a race to the finish line and we finally made it” he says, recalling all the long hours and savings account expenses. Had it not been for the alternator going in Steve’s BMW you would’ve been here much sooner but at least you were here.

“Cheers to that” you say, clinking the mug against his own before taking a sip. Steve just smiles and looks to the simple plate of food. He loved that you both could live your lives so nonchalant, spend your nights living a luxurious lifestyle even if it’s just a small apartment.

“The money comes, the money goes, but we finally made it baby” he tells you and you quickly kiss him before grabbing the wrapped burger that your stomach grumbles for. Not realizing how hungry you were after a whole day of moving.

His words wash a sense of comfort over you. Knowing now you could spend your days a bit more relaxed, eat dinner in silk robes and light lamps for atmosphere. Even if the apartment was a passing phase in the start of the rest of your life you were both going long. Hanging hopes on chandeliers while gaining weight and sleeping in late. You had loved those days before living together but it was time to change your ways and love these new days. The days meant for just the two of you before something more comes along, something bigger.

“Did your parents say when they’re selling the house?” you ask around a bite of your burger, trying to get a better read on him and how he feels.

“By the end of the month, Dad says if I need anything to get it by then” he mutters, heart clenching over the fact. He hated that empty house, despised it, but these last few years it wasn’t really empty.

“I’m sorry honey” you tell him, wiping your face with a napkin and he shrugs.

“It’s okay, I was meant to move out sometime. Just wish it was still somewhat mine, you know? They were never there so much it sorta always felt like it did. Then when I started spending time with the kids and you there, I guess I just always imagined I’d stay there, raise my kids, teach em how to swim in the pool and how to ride their bike in the driveway. Make it more of a home then it ever was to me” Steve explains, eyes cast over the table and lost in a memory that hadn’t happened yet. Your heart instantly softens to the boy, hand reaching out to settle in his own just like you did when you first met.

“I’m sorry Stevie, but just think about how we can make those memories in our own home. A home we’ll grow old in and our kids can visit whenever and bring their kids with them” you tell him and Steve can’t help the small grin that cracks along his face at the sentiment.

“Is this you saying it’s you and I forever Rosy?” he inquires, devious eyes glimmering into your own and you laugh, cheeks flushing red.

“Well I’d say moving in together kinda deals the deal” you tell him and Steve grins before reaching over to grab your waist. Much to your surprise he lifts you effortlessly over and into his lap where his face nuzzles into your neck.

“Then it’s you and me forever, I promise” he tells you, warm breath tickling your skin. Now you both could indulge in things refined and hide your hearts from the harder times.

This marked the start of drowning your doubts in dry champagne and dreaming of your future. A future that if you dreamed hard enough could include real pearls, foreign cars, caviar and cabernet wine. Yet the real riches was a future with each other, a future that included kids and endless memories to be shared. You didn’t really care if you only ever lived in this apartment, the boy curled up next to you was the real dream.

“Another toast” you say, reaching for your mug and handing Steve his own. He follows right along, the bright red liquid sloshing up the side. This was something you wanted to say before the old versions of yourself end and the new ones begin.

“A toast to how it’s been and to all the new things we get to love. Including each other” you say and Steve happily clinks the mug against your own as you both tip back the sweet wine since Steve hated dry.

“I’ve loved these days and I’ll love the new ones too” Steve mutters into your neck and you smile and settle against him, finally relishing in the fact you were both sat in your shared living room. A space you and Steve could share while you got big wig jobs and engaged. A space designed for the both of you to grow as a couple who was meant to last forever.

“You think we’ll get tired of each other?” you voice your worries, knowing now that you shared such close quarters you were bound to find flaws within one another.

“Maybe but I’ll always love you more, and isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?” he asks, voice a soft hum into the late night of the barren home. You had a lot of work ahead of you but at this very moment you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“I guess so” you smile, a softness twisting in your gut at how in love you are with this man beside you.

“Wait! I have an idea!” Steve suddenly says, sliding you delicately off his lap and to the ground. He’s up in a second, eyeing the labels of each of the boxes in search of something you’re not sure of. You watch with curiosity, waiting to see what the boy could possibly be up to now.

“Ah-ha!” he lets out once he finds what his looking for, large hands pulling back the folded cardboard pieces and digging inside. It’s when the familiar flash of silver is revealed you realize he’s in search of his boombox.

Finding the outlet Steve makes work of prepping the stereo for some mood music. It’s no surprise when the familiar flash of a Billy Joel album is pulled from the bottom of the box. He grumbled only slightly when he realized he needs to rewind the tape, smashing the button with an annoyed scowl. Yet when the tape finally spins back to the beginning, a grin covers his lips instead, as a familiar song starts to fill the room. Say Goodbye to Hollywood, the classic beginning of Billy’s 1976 album Turnstiles. A true testament to his talent, and one of Steve’s favorites.

“Dance with me?” he asks, hand held down to you on the ground and you don’t even hesitate to clasp your own with his, allowing him to lift you up and into his arms before spinning you around the room.

“Tell me something good?” you ask him, heart thumping softly against his own as you both sway around the living room, the barren walls soon to hold a lifetime of memories.

“The first time I heard this song I was spending the night at my Grandparents. I was nine and we were all in the kitchen making cookies. I remember my Grandma smelling like fresh flowers and the way my Grandpas laugh made you feel safe. Turnstiles had just come out, Billy’s latest album and Grandpa knew I hadn’t heard it yet. So he played the vinyl while I frosted cookies and this song began to play. Now every time I hear it I’m back in that kitchen just happy to have two people who really loved me” Steve says, a soft sadness cast over his eyes and you can’t stop yourself from pulling him close and leaving a soft kiss on his lips.

“I really would’ve liked to meet them” you whisper, hand curling at the back of his neck and fingers grazing the small tufts of hair there. He smiles and gives a soft squeeze to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

“They would’ve loved you. My Grandpa would point out how smart you are, tease me about it too. Ask how I got a girl like you to date a doofus like me. And my Grandma, she would bake you pies and insist on sewing all your clothes when they got old and worn. Talk about how much she wished she had a granddaughter” Steve says like he knows and it’s because he does. They were the two people in his life who always made him feel safe and he knew them better than anyone. It sucked they weren’t here but knowing how much they would’ve loved you is comfort enough.

“I see them in you. In the way you take care of the kids and in the way you love me” you say and the look he gives you is different than any look you have ever received. Your heart accelerates just at the sight and before you can even process it the boy is kissing you like his life depends on it.

“I’m going to love these days too” he suddenly says, pulling back from the kiss a little breathless. A small laugh escapes your lips as he hugs you close.

“Yeah, well I count on having many of them”

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shekeepswriting · 1 year

Text

A Little More Heart

[Syverson x Reader]

Word Count: 3977

Summary: On a night out with an old friend, Sy meets a woman who catches his interest.

Warnings: Just cursing and a little bit of alcohol

A/N: This could become a series? I’ve got little bits and pieces and some fun ideas. Let me know if you’d be interested in that. I’m new to this part of tumblr and very nervous...

Sullivan’s was pretty barren that night, not that anyone could expect much for this late on a Thursday night. A few regulars warming their usual barstools, making conversation and laying out their woes to a characteristically haggard Billy Sullivan as he filled the pretzel and peanut bowls. A duo of middle aged women talking gratuitous shit at a table near the middle of the room with frequent smoke breaks. A group of four guys, barely on the right side of 21, trying to boost their cool kid points by getting good at pool. One woman sitting at the end of the bar with a notebook, leaning heavily on her forearms in a way that read more fatigue than alcohol consumption. Looked like she was drinking lemonade.

Everyone who had been there when Syverson and Danny walked in two hours earlier was still holding steady.

They’d made their way through the stages of conversation people usually had drinking with old friends. The short term catch up, funny argument over something stupid, brief foray into more emotional territory, shared memories, hypotheticals. Their night, at least, was starting to wind down.

When Sy came back from the bathroom, Danny was staring at the woman at the bar, finger tapping idly on his glass. Having known him since he was fifteen years old, Sy knew that face very well.

“Not gonna go your way,” Sy said mildly, with a hint of a smirk.

“No? How d’you figure?”

“She’s sitting at the very end of the bar with a notebook and pen. She didn’t come here to make friends or get hit on.”

“She could’ve stayed home to write,” Danny argued, but his face was thoughtful as he watched you.

“We could’ve stayed home to drink.”

Danny rolled his eyes.

“Alright, take it easy. I’m not gonna harass the woman. Just gonna introduce myself. If she’s not interested, I’ll go. Not trying to be an ass.”

“Nah, you don’t gotta try. You’re a natural.”

Danny squinted, snatching at Sy’s glass and downing the rest of his drink in retaliation.

“You go then. Looks like you’re running empty anyway.”

“I don’t do that shit anymore.”

“Oh, I know it. Old man Syverson ain’t known the touch of a woman in fifty years,” Danny said, exaggerating his accent and wiping away an imaginary tear.

“That’s enough of that now.”

“Come on, man. Look at her. Frowning and drinking alone. She’s your soulmate.”

Sy shot him a frown, thoroughly unimpressed.

“Not drinking alone though, am I?”

“You talk to her or I will.”

Sy gave an unconvinced grumble, but the look on Danny’s face made it clear it was no idle bluff. Now, there was nothing wrong with Danny. He wasn’t aggressive or pushy; he knew how to take no for an answer. But he’d give it a solid effort, and he was the most extroverted person Sy had ever met.

If you were uninterested in company, the way that he was almost certain you were, it would be easier to avoid the whole process entirely. And if Sy took up the bar stool two spaces to your right, Danny wouldn’t have a clear view to know whether or not the two of you actually spoke a word to each other.

He stood up from the table with a deep sigh, making sure his annoyance over the disruption of his night was fully documented.

“Happy hunting, Captain,” Danny said with a stupid grin and a sloppy salute that had Sy rolling his eyes as he turned towards the bar.

As you noticed his approach, your shoulders tensed up, lips slightly pursed but eyes still trained on your journal. Sy gave you space, careful to only observe you through his peripheral vision as he claimed a stool a fair distance from you, leaving a buffer seat between you.

Billy approached as he sat, brought him a beer with minimal conversation.

You fidgeted, clicking your pen three times in rapid succession.

There wasn’t much more Sy could do to set you at ease without blowing the whole operation, but he set his phone on the bartop, scrolling absently through contacts and pictures to give himself something to do, something to help you feel less observed.

Your leg started bouncing and you glanced at him, quick as humanly possible.

There was a silent standoff for a few minutes, one Sy was trying very hard to will out of existence. But you were still tense on your barstool, expectant.

You broke first.

“No pitch, huh?”

You were looking right at him this time, fully turned to face him, eyes intense but not unfriendly.

“Pitch?”

“You left that cozy corner table to come drink by yourself on an uncomfortable bar stool. Usually the kind of move that’s followed by an introduction, maybe some pickup lines. A pitch of some kind.”

Sy turned his head just enough to see the table he’d been sitting at out of the corner of his eye. Danny turned his head away too fast, feigning interest in the record cover art hanging on the bar walls. Idiot.

“Saw me over there, huh?”

“I’m a woman drinking alone in a dive bar, and you are literally the largest threat in the room. Of course I saw you.”

Sy frowned.

“Not a threat to nobody.”

You raised your eyebrow, reaching out with a speed that had Sy struggling not to tense up as you looped your pen under the chain barely peeking out of the neckline of his shirt.

“You don’t strike me as the necklace type. Military, right?”

“Retired.”

You hummed, letting the chain drop back against his skin as you retreated from his personal space. He reached up, patting the shape of his tags as they resettled against his chest beneath his shirt. It felt strange, wearing them again. He wasn’t used to it anymore. Normally they lived in the back of the top drawer in his desk, out of sight and as far out of mind as he could manage to keep them. But anniversaries were psychologically significant. He’d learned that in therapy. So he’d decided to honor this one, the anniversary of his initial enlistment, by putting them on again. Going out with a friend from before… everything. It was why he was here.

“Military,” you repeated quietly, your eyes back on your notebook again, still tilted out of Syverson’s view as you flipped the page, stared at the blank expanse for a moment before giving your pen two thoughtful clicks. “Always a threat.”

Sy’s stomach lurched uncomfortably.

“Not to you. Not to anyone in this bar,” he said firmly, tilting his head to add as an afterthought, “Long as they mind their fuckin manners.”

Your mouth curved up at the corner, just the hint of a smile, the first he’d seen from you all night. Not that he’d been watching. Much. It disappeared after only a few seconds, replaced by a focused frown that traced a crease between your brows as you put pen to paper.

His eyes flicked down towards the bartop, but the cover of the notebook still shielded the page from his view. He was tempted to drop it, leave you to your work, whatever that might be. But your body language gave him pause. You had shuffled around on your stool during your brief conversation and remained that way even now, shoulders and hips pivoted slightly in his direction rather than running parallel to the bar in a position more comfortable for writing. He fiddled with the label on the bottle of beer the bartender had brought him, the corner peeling back easy under his thumb before he smoothed it back into place.

“What’re you doing?”

You glanced up at him, flashing that little smile again, though this time it looked a little sharper, caught somewhere between self-conscious and amused.

“Chasing the muse, I guess.”

Sy raised an eyebrow, gave a neutral hum.

“Not sure I know what that means.”

“Sure you do,” you said quietly, eyes tracing thoughtfully over his face before you turned your attention back to your notebook. “It’s a pretty universal concept, I think.”

“Maybe.” He took a sip of his beer. “Just figured most people don’t come this far south looking for it. More of a New York and LA kind of thing.”

“Just because those are the places most people look for inspiration, doesn’t mean those are the only places you can find it.”

You were some kind of artist then. Interesting.

“Can I ask what you’re looking to inspire? Or is that too personal?”

That earned him another look, something quiet and appreciative. Two quick pen clicks.

“You can ask. I kinda want to hear you guess though.”

He looked again at your notebook. It wasn’t the tiny kind, but it wasn’t full sized either. Leatherbound or something like it, not spiral. He couldn’t see the paper to know whether it was lined or not. Could be for writing small amounts. Drawing maybe. You could even be writing song lyrics in there. He hadn’t been around enough artsy people in his life to know a damn thing about it.

But he was observant, good at cataloging behavior, pretty decent at reading people. When he had first approached, your hand had been gliding in straight lines across the page, but now it was moving more erratically. There was something different in your glances too. Slow, almost too intense to be polite, analyzing. Maybe you were drawing him on that page you kept so carefully hidden from his gaze. Or maybe you were still deciding whether or not he was a threat to you. Sy wasn’t totally comfortable with either option, but he’d prefer to think that the current turn of the conversation was proof of you softening just a little towards him.

He hedged his bets a little, just in case.

“Don’t see any paint on ya. That’s about the best I can do,” he said mildly.

“That was an awful lot of thinking for ‘don’t see any paint on ya,’’' you said, tilting your head. A bit too gentle to be an accusation, but you still wanted a better answer.

“Alright…” Sy shifted on his bar stool, angling towards you. “Looked like you were writing before I got here. But now you’re either scribbling or drawing. Maybe even drawing me by the way you keep looking at me. Unless you’ve got another reason to be staring like that.”

Right answer. You were smiling again, a little freer than last time.

“I’m not staring.”

He shrugged. “Studying, then.”

“I’ll take studying,” you said with a slow nod. “Is it making you uncomfortable?”

“I’ll live.”

“Of course you will, but that’s not an answer.”

“Sure isn’t,” he said, taking another drink.

His own lips curved up into a smile, almost against his will, when you laughed. Bright and open. You were fully facing him now with the kind of smile that was impossible to ignore, genuine and joyful and inescapably contagious.

“Let’s try this then…” you said, trailing off into soft humming sounds as you added a few last hurried lines to your notebook before setting your pen down.

You ripped the page out as cleanly as you could manage and set it on the scarred bar top, giving it a little push towards him.

And it was his face looking up at him from the paper, rendered in wild pen strokes of blue ink, but no less detailed for the messy style. The close cut of his hair, sharp furrow of his brows above focused eyes, the beard that had needed trimming for two days at least. Neither unflattering nor romanticized, just honest. The way you saw him. A little intense, a little rough around the edges, but not harsh. There was kindness there somewhere in the lines of his face, but he couldn’t pin down exactly where.

Sy hummed, gestured toward your pen.

“Borrow that for a minute?”

You slid it down the bar to him with a raised brow.

He nodded in thanks as he took it, snagging an unused napkin as well. With an excessive slowness, he sketched out his very best stick figure, looking up at you with an evaluative stare when he heard a muffled laugh. You dropped your hand from your mouth, meeting his gaze with a playful smile, tolerating the long look with amusement dancing in your eyes.

He dutifully added two dot eyes, pausing for a moment before drawing eyelashes and eyebrows, trying not to tear through the napkin. A very geometric nose followed, and a wide open smile. After another long look he added your hair, actually bothering to get the shape right since it seemed much more attainable even with his limited art skills.

You were still smiling as you watched him sign the corner.

“Those your initials or is that your name?” you asked, tilting your head to read the tiny letters.

“My name,” he answered, sliding the napkin and pen back to the bar space between your two stools.

“Sy,” you said slowly, as if testing the sound of it. He smiled too, just a little, not remembering when he’d last liked the sound of his own name so much.

“You didn’t sign yours,” he reminded you, and you squinted your eyes at him, knowing full well what he was after.

Still, you took up the pen and signed the loose sheet of notebook paper. Probably exactly as you signed everything else: mostly illegibly. He could decipher the initials, but not much else.

You let out a snort at the unimpressed look he leveled at you.

“Now you’re just causin’ problems on purpose.”

“It’s not my fault that you write like a caps lock keyboard and I don’t.”

He sighed.

“And here I drew you a real pretty picture,” Sy said slowly, tapping the napkin.

“You did,” you said with a smile. “But I’m still holding out for the pitch.”

“I still don’t have one.”

“Come on, now,” you said, a challenging spark in your eyes. “I’ve never met a man who didn’t have a pitch. A line. A move. You’ve got something.”

“Haven’t done none of that since I was a teenager,” he said. “I’ve got no use for that shit.”

“Sure you do. Because I’m asking. And don’t tell me you haven’t flirted since you were a teenager. I don’t believe that for a second.”

Sy shifted in his seat.

“Didn’t say I never flirted. Just said I don’t use lines.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at the distinction, resting your chin on your hand.

“Come on now. You want to know my name, that’s the price. And I expect your best work, Sy.”

He let out a deep sigh, rubbing at his forehead. This was about to be real fuckin embarrassing.

“Alright. Not promising anything good, here. I only ever had two.”

“Efficient,” you said with an approving nod.

“They’re not good,” he repeated.

“But they worked?”

“Mostly. God only knows why.”

“Stop stalling,” you said in a stage whisper.

“First one…”

“I’m ready.”

He cleared his throat, looked straight into your eyes.

“Wanna make out later?”

Your mouth dropped open in surprise before stretching into a wide smile.

“Oh my god,” you laughed. “I wasn’t ready.”

Sy shrugged, took a sip of his beer while you stared at him in awe.

“That worked for you?”

“Yep,” he said with a small smile. “What, you don’t appreciate honesty?”

“I… do,” you answered slowly. “Okay, I guess I see it. What’s the second one?”

“Excuse me, ma’am, I don’t mean to bother you, but I can’t seem to find my phone number. Could I borrow yours?”

“You turned your accent up for that one,” you said with a delighted laugh. “Full force southern charm. My God, what a little heartbreaker you must have been!”

“Now you’re just bein’ mean,” he said, turning back away from you.

“No, I’m completely serious. I fully believe those worked for you, and now I kinda want to see pictures.”

“Now, you’ve gotten more than enough outta me for one night.”

“Fine, fine,” you sighed.

You picked your pen back up, wrote your first name in small block letters under your artsy scribble, your best approximation of his own handwriting.

“Bullyin me,” he muttered even as he committed your name to memory.

“Imitation is the highest form of flattery,” you said breezily, laughing at the look he shot you in response.

“So, what, you’re some kind of artist then?” he asked, changing the subject. “Draw and paint and all that?”

You shook your head.

“Not really, no. That’s just for fun. I like drawing people.”

He looked at the paper again.

“Well you’re damn good at it. If that’s not the muse you’re chasin, what is?”

“Umm,” you sighed, like you were preparing to give an explanation that you’d given dozens of times before. “I write online for a magazine. It’s… kind of like a travel blog, but it’s less about the places and more about the people? Here…”

You reached into your pocket for your phone, tapping around for a bit before handing it to him. There was a picture of you at the top, a profile view of you driving, but it was so strongly backlit by a late afternoon sun, that it left your features mostly indistinguishable. Smart. Probably safer that way. Below that, a US map covered in multicolor pins, a calendar view, with dots on days you’d posted, and finally a list of posts. Abbreviated views of each one showed a first name and city, a pen drawing like the one you’d done of him, and the first two sentences of your story.

He nodded slowly.

“You gonna write a story about me, then?”

You fussed with your hair, shifting uncomfortably on your stool.

“Probably not. Unless you want me to. I always ask permission first.”

“I’m sure you do. Didn’t mean nothing by it.”

You sighed again. Sy frowned.

“So what’s the problem then? Looks like there’s a lot here. Doesn’t seem like you need a lot of help.”

“I didn’t think so either,” you said with an unhappy smile. “But my editor has decided that I need to attract more dedicated readers. People who check the website every day, not just when they think to. Subscribers. And to do that, I apparently need to add a little more heart.”

“What’s that mean?” Sy asked.

“Good fuckin question,” you said, lifting your glass as if in a toast. “I guess some sort of emotional buy-in. Something personal and specific so the readers get invested in me specifically, not just the people I talk to.”

“And that brought you down here?”

You shrugged.

“My grandma lives here. Seemed like as good a plan as any.”

“I’m sure she’s glad to see you, whether it helps with your writing or not.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, your eyes softening. “She really is.”

“How long you think you’ll be staying?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve got two weeks of posts queued up, so I bought myself at least that long before I have to figure out how to… do the emotion thing.”

“That damn emotion thing,” Sy said, shaking his head, smiling a bit when it drew a soft laugh from you.

“Yeah…”

“Maybe I’ll see you around again then,” he ventured, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“It’s a tiny ass town,” you said with a smile. “So probably.”

“You’d be okay with that?” he checked.

You laughed again, nudged his shoulder.

“Yeah, I think so. Long as you mind your fuckin manners,” you said, taking on an overplayed surly tone as you repeated his earlier comment back to him.

“I always mind my manners,” he said matter-of-factly, glaring playfully at you when it elicited a snort from you.

“Oh, sure you do,” you laughed, checking the time on your phone.

You took a deep breath in the companionable silence that followed, reaching down to drag your bag up from where it had been tucked safely between your feet. The napkin with Sy’s drawing curled your lips into another smile as you closed it between the pages of your notebook and stowed it in the main zipper pocket along with your pen. Your phone went back into your pocket.

Looked like his time with you was almost up.

He leaned back on his barstool a little, glancing back at Danny who was now schooling the young guy at pool with a self-satisfied smile.

When he returned his attention to you, you were giving him that searching look again.

“About that time?” he asked.

“I think so, yeah,” you said. “It was nice meeting you, Sy. Sorry for giving you a hard time.”

“Nah, you’re not.”

You laughed, shrugged your shoulders.

“I’d like to think it did you some good. But seriously. I had fun talking to you. Thanks for the company.”

He nodded, gave you a smile.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll see you around, I guess.”

“Hope so.”

You took another breath and slid off your stool. Billy came to collect your glass, mostly melted ice now, and you gave him a polite smile.

There was a moment of hesitation, like you wanted to say something else but weren’t sure what. You settled for a little wave as you started to turn towards the door. Then it was Sy’s turn to feel it, the suddenly urgent need to say something, to drag the moment out just a little longer.

He called out your name, a plan forming in his head when you turned quickly back to him.

“Yeah?”

“Well, ‘fore you go, I figure I should ask you...”

“Ask me what?”

If you had any idea what he was about to say, you were hiding it extremely well, just staring at him curiously, head slightly tilted and smiling softly. Almost made him change his mind. Almost.

“You wanna make out later?”

Your eyes lit up, a laugh barely kept in check, locked behind a widening smile.

“Oh, I see. I get it now,” you said, taking a step closer.

Sy raised his eyebrows.

“It’s the eyes that do it. You weren’t doing the eyes before.”

“I’m not doing nothing with my eyes,” he argued, but a smile slipped free when you took another step closer.

“Yes you are,” you laughed. “You’re smoldering.”

“No, ma’am, I don’t smolder.”

“It’s more lighthearted than most,” you admitted. “Dare I say even playful. But it’s still a smolder.”

He shrugged easily, eyes scanning over your face.

“Still ain’t answered my question.”

“Did you mean it?” you asked, raising your eyebrows in challenge.

“Said it, didn’t I?”

You looked him over, humming thoughtfully. He didn’t move, kept right on looking until your eyes returned to his.

“I’ll think about it and let you know,” you answered with an unreadable expression.

“And how are you gonna manage that?” he asked, spinning on the bar stool to keep his eyes on you as you moved towards the door.

You clicked your tongue, patting at your pockets with increasing concern until you finally met his eyes with a despairing frown.

“Oh God, you’re right! I totally lost my phone number. Any chance that I could borrow yours?”

Sy shook his head with a sigh, holding his hand out for your phone as you approached him again, an inescapably smug smile on your lips.

“Think you’re real cute, don’t you?” he muttered, biting at the corner of his lip to keep a smile in check.

“You certainly think so, or it wouldn’t have worked.”

He handed your phone back to you, watched you send him a wink emoji before you turned to leave again with a parting flutter of your fingers.

He shook his head again when the door closed behind you and saved your number as “Trouble.”

-----------------------------------

A/N: I’m very nervous. Please let me know what you think and if you wanna read more! Thanks for sticking with me this far

#syverson x reader #captain syverson x reader #syverson fanfiction #henry cavill fanfiction #sandcastle fanfiction

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