#so keep your goddamned hate out of the tag!

[wylansworkshop]

Love people who feel the need to put hate in the tags. Like babe, if you dont like the show that's fine, but let me enjoy it pls

#mine #jesus christ #like i understand wanting a genuine sab/soc adaptation #but the writers/leigh have been VERY CLEAR this is not what that 8s #this is fun and cheesy and im eating all of it up i do not care #yes they could go deeper into characters #but it was s2 of a netflix show #so im not mad that it was cheesy fanservice #so keep your goddamned hate out of the tag! #pls and thanks 😘

[hintsofhoney]

Ladies With Experience

Paring(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: When Dean makes an off-handed comment about "preferring ladies with experience", you try (and fail) to not let it get under your skin. You're a virgin, but you've done just about everything else, and when you talk to Dean about it, he offers to be your first. He's your best friend, and you've been in love with him forever... who are you to deny him?

Tags: smut, first time, virgin!reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom!dean, p in v, oral (female receiving), spanking, fingering, not-so-innocent reader

Word Count: 5k

A/N: As always, thank you to my loves @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean for beta-ing. Would be nowhere without you two 🥰

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

“Anyways, let’s say you’re right, fine. Who would want virgins?”

You know Sam didn’t mean it like that , and you felt stupid for letting it bother you. For letting this case bother you.

“You got me,” Dean replied with a shrug. “I prefer ladies with experience.” 

And there it was, like a punch straight to the gut. You hated that it hurt you as much as it did. So what, you’ve never had sex. But you’ve done almost everything else. You knew what you liked and what you didn't. You’ve been around the block a few times with the various sex toys in your nightstand drawer. It’s not like you weren’t experienced at all . But that didn’t make Dean’s words hurt any less. You swallowed down the burger and fries from lunch that were threatening to come up, before standing up from your seat at the small motel room table. 

The brothers looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“I — bathroom,” you managed, before quickly making your way there, slamming the door shut behind you. 

Staring at your reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror, you let the tears fall. Silently, you wiped them away as Dean’s words echoed in your head, and you hated that you loved him. Hated that you’d never be ballsy enough to admit it to him, especially now.

Something like five minutes passed and you knew you didn’t have long before one of the boys — likely Sam — would come knocking to check on you. You flushed the unused toilet so they wouldn’t suspect anything and turned on the faucet, splashing your tear-soaked face with cold water before using a hand towel to wipe it dry. When you emerged, the guys were packing up their duffels.

“Did you find them?” you asked, hopeful.

Dean checked his gun, before flipping the safety on and stuffing it in the back waistband of his jeans. 

“I sure as hell hope so, ‘cause if I’m about to crawl through the goddamn sewers for nothing —”

“They’re down there, Dean,” Sam replied, giving him a pointed look. He turned his attention to you, and if he had noticed anything off, he hadn’t let his face show it. “You coming?”

You grabbed your gun off the dresser and holstered it in reply.

Six hours later, the three of you were sweaty, panting, and splattered in blood after a close fight with dragons in the sewers. Thankfully, you hadn’t had to wade in any actual sewage. You hadn’t said a word to either brother since you had gone to the bathroom six hours ago, and to keep them from growing suspicious of your sudden silence, you opted to take a nap in the backseat of the Impala on the way back to the motel. 

You stirred awake as Dean pulled into the parking lot, barely conscious enough to catch the end of the brothers’ conversation.

“I’ll get her,” Dean said. 

Sam nodded and got out of the car, gently closing the passenger side door before heading inside. 

You rubbed your eyes, blinking away the sleep in them as Dean’s face came into focus. He was looking at you over his shoulder, one arm resting on the top of the front bench seat. 

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

It took a moment for the feeling you had been filled with prior to your nap to come back to you, his words from earlier echoing in your head. I prefer ladies with experience . You shot him a cold glare.

“Alright. What’d I do?” he asked, turning in his seat to better angle himself towards you. 

The question caught you off guard.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You haven’t said a word since we left for that hunt, Y/N.”

“How do you know Sam didn’t do something?”

He replied with a knowing look.

You stared at your hands, clasped together in your lap, and muttered, “It’s nothing. Stupid.”

“C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.

You hated this. How easy he was to talk to. How you had always been able to tell him what was on your mind.

But not this . You couldn’t tell him this. 

You shook your head. 

“Hey,” he said softly, shifting in his seat. He was fully turned around now, reaching out to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at those green eyes. “Talk to me,” he repeated, no room for argument in his words.

“I can’t,” you whispered. You wanted to throw up. He was your best friend, and you were utterly, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with him. He preferred girls with experience, and you had none. Not in the way that it mattered. And he had known that, thanks to a late-night stake-out game of Never Have I Ever . 

His jaw clenched. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

You briefly met his gaze. You couldn’t hold it for long. 

“Was it something I said?” he prodded. 

You stared at the buttons of his open flannel, your eyes quickly darting up to meet his in silent confirmation. 

He sighed, pulling his hand away from your face and folding his arms on top of the backseat, resting his chin on his forearm.

“Do I at least get a hint?”

“Dean, I —”

“C’mon, Y/N. You’ve never not told me anything.”

“Why are you pushing this?”

“Because I can’t stand not talking to you.”

Your heart leaped at that confession, however innocent it might have been. 

“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”

“Because I’m making you. You would have silent treatmented me into next week.”

You didn’t respond.

He sighed again, defeated. “Y/N, c’mon. Please? Whatever I said, I’m sorry. I’m sure I didn’t mean it.”

“You didn’t mean that you ‘prefer girls with experience’?” you retorted quite sassily. The question tumbled out before you even had time to think of the implication that came with asking it. 

Dean opened and closed his mouth like a damn fish. 

“Thought so.” You began to move to make your way out of the car, when Dean reached out and grabbed your wrist.

“No,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s okay if you do. I told you, it was a dumb thing to be upset about.”

“No, it’s not. I didn’t stop to think about how this case might have been affecting you. You know I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, right?” 

You swallowed, nodded. His hand felt like fire around your wrist.

“But for what it’s worth, I wasn’t serious. I don’t prefer anyone one way or the other. Sex is sex. If anyone’s willing to have it with me, I consider myself lucky.”

“Romantic,” you quipped.

A smile tugged at his lips. “I could show you, y’know.”

You almost threw up right there in the backseat. Your eyes grew wide.

“What?” you croaked.

“Well, if you’re worried about not having any experience… I just mean I’d be happy to, y’know. Show you the ropes.”

“… Of sex?” Really, you thought it was cute that he had this misconception of you. You knew about the ropes. You’d just never been tied up with them. 

“Of whatever you want.”

“You think I want to have sex with you?” It came out harsher than you meant it to, like part of you still thought you could hide the fact that you were in love with him. Like if you just joked it off it would go away, and you wouldn’t have to cross this line with him, even though you so badly wanted to. But you had to protect yourself, your heart. 

You didn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes.

“No, that’s not what I —”

You suddenly felt the need to clarify your question.

“No, I — I didn’t mean it like that either.”

Dean’s face morphed into one of confusion. “…So you do want to have sex with me?”

Your cheeks flushed red, and your throat bobbed. “Uh…”

“Forget it, stupid question, you don’t have to an—” 

“Yeah,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. Fuck it. Who were you to hold yourself back from the one thing you’ve been wanting for years? You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I really, really do.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Seriously?”

“Oh, cut the shit, Dean. Like you’re surprised. Everyone wants to have sex with you.”

He scoffed. “ Everyone , Y/N, really?”

“There are literally smutty fanfictions written about you,” you replied, reaching into your back pocket for your phone, dead set on proving your point. 

“Gross. And Becky doesn’t count as everyone.”

“Actually, Becky only writes for Sam.”

You realized what you said at the same time he did, and he eyed you suspiciously.

“Why do you know that?”

God dammit. “I don’t. I mean — I — like, she obviously loves Sam. So, like, she wouldn’t write porn about you. Obviously.”

“Uh huh…” There was an uncomfortable silence for a beat or three. And then, “How much smut have you read about me?”

Your face felt like it had just been rinsed with fucking lava, and you knew it probably looked as red as it, too. 

“None!” you exclaimed, way too quickly. 

Dean smirked. “You do really wanna have sex with me,” he remarked, like he couldn’t believe it.

“Trust me, the urge is fading by the second.”

His grin disappeared almost instantly. “Would it help if I told you that I think about fucking you all the time, too?”

“Well, I don’t think about it all the —”

“Y/N.” He said your name like a warning, and the tone of his voice settled right in your core. 

“Yeah,” you squeaked. “Yeah, that helps.”

“Good,” he smirked, before grabbing his phone from beside him. 

“Uh… What are you doing?” You watched as he scrolled for a second, pressing a button before putting the phone to his ear.

“Telling Sammy to beat it.”

Your eyes grew wide. “What!?” you whisper-yelled. “No! Just — we can just do it back here!”

He gave you a pointed look. “I’m not taking your virginity in the backseat of my car, Y/N.”

“Why not!?”

“Because we’re not sixteen, for one. And for two… I wanna make it special.” He rushed the last bit out, like he was embarrassed to say it. And he should be. You cringed as you heard it. 

“Oh my God,” you began.

“Shut up.”

“You did not just say that.”

“Shut up. Sam, answer your phone, God dammit!”

“I have done, like, almost everything else, you know. In the backseats of many, many cars. You don’t need to make it special for me, Deano,” you teased. 

“For the last time, shut your mouth, or I’m gonna shut it for you,” he said, the look he gave letting you know he wasn’t in the mood to play. No, he wanted to fuck you. Beyond that, he wanted to dominate you. And you were more than happy to submit.

You might have been a virgin physically, but mentally? Mentally, you’d probably give Dean a run for his money. 

Sam didn’t answer. Naturally. He was probably in the shower, but you were kind of grateful because as much as you wanted Dean, you didn’t want to make Sam uncomfortable. Or worse, give him any reason to give you the talk . Because he totally would. After trying his brother two more times, Dean decided it would be better to just get a room of your own, and you were much happier with that decision. 

You watched as he unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping aside, gesturing for you to go ahead. 

“Ladies first.”

“You mean you’re not gonna carry me over the threshold?” you joked. “Thought you wanted to make this special .”

He gave you an unamused look, and you shot back a sarcastic closed-mouth smile before you were being swept off of your feet and over his shoulder faster than you could process.

“Dean!” you squealed, as he carried you through the doorway, kicking the door shut behind him before practically throwing you onto the bed.

He was hovering over you seconds later, his face a few inches from yours, and the mood shifted from playful to serious.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

You nodded, your fingers coming up to play with the collar of his flannel.

“If I tell you something, you promise you won’t make fun of me?” you questioned, your eyes glued to the plaid pattern on his shirt.

“Promise.”

“I was kinda… holding out for you.” You drew your eyes up to meet his.

“Seriously?” he asked, half laughing. You could tell it wasn’t because he thought it was funny. It was because he couldn’t believe it.

You swallowed nervously, nodding again as you stared into those green eyes, and you hoped that this meant as much to him as it did to you. Something told you it did.

“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he said.

You tilted your head in question.

“About making it special for you. I know it’s like, the grossest thing I could have possibly said but, you deserve so much better than me, and so if —”

“There’s no one better for me, you idiot.” And you almost told him everything. That you’ve been in love with him ever since you met one summer at Bobby’s, back when you were just kids. That everything felt like it led up to this moment. That you wanted him to fuck you and make love to you all at once. That you didn’t want this to be the only time he did. But instead, you grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him towards you, your lips meeting in a kiss that felt like it could have powered an entire country’s electric grid. 

He deepened it, and the two of you were nothing but tongues and teeth and lips — it wasn’t sexy. It was hungry. Starved, more like. Like he had been thinking about kissing you just as long as you had been thinking about him. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his hips down towards your denim-covered core, down until you felt the hardness underneath his jeans pressed up against the spot where you needed him most, down until you couldn’t help but grind against it. He moaned as he kissed you, so you did it again. And again. And again. And —

“You need to stop that.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. You noticed that your arms were above your head, his hands pinning your wrists against the mattress. You don’t know when that happened, but you weren’t complaining. In fact, it spurred you on. 

You smiled mischievously and rutted against him once more. 

“What’re you gonna do about it, Winchester?”

He dropped his forehead to yours, steadying his breaths.

“I can fuck you like it’s your first time, or I can fuck you how I actually want to.”

“And how’s that?”

He took a shaky breath, like he was actually having a hard time controlling himself. You felt a sense of pride shoot through you at that.

“Like the fucking brat you are.”

You almost came from that alone. 

Wanna know some common misconceptions about virgins? That they don’t have kinks. That they don’t watch porn. That they don’t have a plethora of sex toys  in their nightstand. That they sit and crochet in their convent dorm room all day. Sure, you were years past the age when girls typically lose their virginity, but you were no saint. In fact, you enjoyed being quite the opposite. And you enjoyed being put in your place. 

“Do your worst.”

It was like something in him snapped. His eyes were lust-blown and hungry and you didn’t miss the way his jaw ticked, and then he was undressing you so fast that you could’ve been part of a quick change act. He muttered something about a light system as he took off your clothes, and you nodded in a way that let him know that you already knew how all of that worked. 

When you were down to just a black lace bra and panties, he paused as his fingers hooked under your waistband. He stared at you, his expression serious, and you knew that he was going to give you one more warning. One more opportunity to say, “Actually, I’d like to have a totally normal, non-kinky, first time experience, please.” But that wasn’t what you wanted. 

“You sure you know what you’re asking for?”

You rolled your eyes. “I trust you. Put me in my goddamn place, Winchester. You’ve only been wanting to do it for the past two hours.”

“Oh, I’ve been waiting to do it for a lot longer than that, sweetheart.”

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, huffing a small laugh before pulling off your panties in one swift motion. His hands came to rest on your bare thighs as he locked his eyes with yours. “Any hard limits?”

You shook your head. “I trust you. I mean, like, don’t pee on me or —”

“Not gonna happen. But… most everything else?”

“Dean,” you began, looking at him pointedly, “I trust you. If it helps, I’ve used like, toys on myself before. And I don’t mean just a vibrator, I mean like… well, you get the gist.”

“So I don’t have to go easy on you, is what you’re saying?”

“Put me in my place,” you repeated.

“Alright,” he replied, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs as he roughly pushed them apart, “but just so we’re clear, that’s the last order you’ll be giving tonight.”

Your throat bobbed and you nodded. “Yes, Sir.” 

You meant it as a joke, but it didn’t come out that way. No, the title came out in a way that made his jaw clench and his eyes darken and it stoked the fire raging in your core. 

Dean didn’t waste any more time talking after that, his tongue moving through your folds seconds later, drawing gasps and soft moans from your lips. You arched into him, your hands in his hair, silently begging for more. It wasn’t the first time a man had gone down on you, but it was the first time it felt like this . 

He pinned your hips down to the bed with one hand splayed over your abdomen and then his tongue was inside you and “eating you out” didn’t come close to describing his ministrations. He was devouring you like his life depended on it, like the sounds you were making were a goddamn Zeppelin song that he wasn’t anywhere near done listening to. And then he added a finger, and then another, and it didn’t matter how many times you had imagined him doing this while you had your own fingers inside you — nothing would have prepared you for how good the real thing felt.

“Oh — fuck,” you gasped, and he chuckled into your sex and you had to actively think about not coming on his face and ending this whole experience early. 

“You’re close,” he observed, flicking his tongue over your clit as he continued to pump his fingers in and out, and it was so fucking hot how he just knew that. It was like he had been fucking you for years, the way he knew your body, your tells.

You nodded. “Mmhm,” you confirmed, unable to form words with the way the coil in your abdomen was tightening. 

“Hold it,” he ordered.

Your eyes shot open, because it wasn’t the command you were expecting, and you tried to lift your head to shoot him a cold glare but you couldn’t. And he just kept pumping, flicking, licking, chuckling — fucking asshole.

“Mm — fuck — please!” you cried out.

“When you come tonight, it’s gonna be on my cock. So hold it.”

You didn’t think you could. You had played this game with yourself and your vibrator and your self-control was majorly lacking and God his mouth and fingers felt so fucking good and you were there, the coil wound so goddamn tight, it would take nothing for you to let it snap, and then — 

He stopped.

He pulled his mouth away from your core, his fingers out of your pussy, and you were writhing underneath him, because you had been right there and you needed him to be touching you again right the fuck now.

You whined.

He spanked your pussy. Not hard or anything, just enough to see if it was okay with you, and fuck, was it. 

“Stop whining,” he demanded. He positioned himself so he was hovering over you again, his face inches away from yours as he stared into your eyes. “Or I’ll give you something to whine about.”

You were curious as to what that something would be, but sensed that right now wouldn’t be the best time for that question. You nodded instead.

“Good girl.” He smiled when he said it, like he knew exactly what those two words would do to you. 

You squirmed underneath him, it had been too long since he’d last touched you. Too long being thirty seconds at most, but still. It had felt like hours.

“Has anyone ever told you,” he began, dipping his head to place a soft kiss on your collarbone, “that you are very,” another kiss to the other side, “very,” one more to the middle of your chest, “impatient?” He slowly pulled down the left cup of your bra, your breast spilling out of it. “Makes me wanna take my time.” 

His eyes stayed glued to yours as his head moved down to your hardened nipple, taking it into his mouth at a goddamn snail’s pace. You arched your back, and he let you this time, chuckling at how easy it was to make your body react. His other hand slipped underneath you, unclasping your bra in a way that reminded you that he had a lot of experience doing so, and you refused to water the seed of jealousy that had sprouted from the thought. It didn’t matter that he had done this a million times. All that mattered was that he was doing it now, with you. 

He pulled your bra off and threw it haphazardly over his shoulder, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were completely naked, and he still had 87 fucking layers on, the outermost of which was still speckled with dragon blood, and it’s not that you were anywhere near clean, but you certainly didn’t want those clothes touching your bare skin.

“Dean?” you rasped, and he pulled away from your nipple to give you his full attention.

“You okay, sweetheart? Do you want to st—”

“No! God, no. It’s just —” you sighed, exasperated. This was dumb. You were going to stop him for this? Your eyes landed on a spot of blood on the shoulder of his flannel. Yes, yes you were, because that’s gross. “It’s just that your clothes are covered in monster blood and I’m like, totally naked, and I don’t want —”

He chuckled like you were the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “I gotchya, baby.”

Baby. Baby ? You tried not to overthink the pet name as he climbed off the bed to take his clothes off, watching you the entire time. Sweetheart, you’d been called a million times. He called everyone sweetheart. But baby? Baby was his car, and no one else. Unless, that’s what you were to him now. His, and no one else’s. You filed the thought away under “Things to Think About After You Lost Your Virginity to Dean Winchester”.

He was in nothing but his boxers now, his cock already hard underneath them, and you bit your lip as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and slid them off. And then, there he was, exactly like you’d imagined him but also better, because this was real and happening. You gaped at him, at his size. He wasn’t any bigger than the fake one you had in your nightstand, but that one was nine inches and you could never fit it all the way in. He was perfect. All of him. 

“You okay?” he asked again, crawling back onto the bed.

“Mhm,” you managed, gulping.

He was on top of you again, his forearm holding up his weight as his free hand came to grab your thigh, hooking it over his hip and leaning down to kiss you. You could feel him against your core, his cock moving between your folds as he moved his hips, teasing you with it. 

“Dean,” you breathed.

“Hm?”

“I want…” you couldn’t find it in yourself to finish your request.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered.

You decided you liked “baby” better. 

“Please.”

“I thought you wanted me to put you in your place?”

You shook your head. “N-next time. Just, please .”

His eyebrows shot up, and you realized what you had said. 

“Next time, huh?” he asked, with that shit-eating grin of his. 

You rolled your eyes. He stopped moving, the smile wiped off his lips as he gripped you underneath your chin, somewhere between rough and gentle, the look on his face telling you he wasn’t messing around. 

“Roll your eyes at me again, and next time I’ll really do my worst.”

You bit back a smile, and you just knew he was thinking, Brat. But you asked your question anyway.

“But not this time?” There was a devilish gleam in your eyes. You were tempting him, and he knew it.

“Do you ever get tired of being such a brat?” 

“Dunno,” you shrugged. “Do you ever get tired of it?” 

His jaw tensed, and he forced a sardonic, closed-lip smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Hm. But not this time, right?”

“Y/N —” he warned.

“Afraid you’re gonna hurt me? Scare me? What’s really keeping you from putting me in my place… Sir?”

For the second time that night, something in him snapped. You yelped as he flipped you over and grabbed your hips, dragging them upwards so your ass was in the air and your chest was on the mattress. Four hits to your cheeks came down in quick succession, and when you reached your hand behind you to block them, it was quickly pinned to the small of your back. Three more hits followed, accompanied by a pathetic, “Ow!” from your lips.

“Color?” he questioned roughly.

“So fucking green,” you replied, dazed.

Seven more hits followed, each one harder than the last, and you didn’t think there was anything better than the sting you were feeling right now. There was nothing more you wanted than for him to mark you up like this.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he commented. Five more hits. 

“Oh, fuck!” you cried out at the last hit, one that felt like it reverberated through your entire body. One that definitely left a handprint behind. 

“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you?” It was a rhetorical question. He spanked you four more times. “You just wanted me to mark you up, is that it? Think of me every time you sit down for the next few days, hm?” Three more. 

“Mmph!” Your cries were muffled by the comforter. 

“Yeah, I can tell. Look at this fucking mess.” He dragged his fingers through your soaked folds. “Jesus Christ,” he said under his breath, and then he was flipping you back over. He nestled himself between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance. His expression softened as he stared into your eyes. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied breathily. 

He slid into you slow and easy, your mouth open in a silent moan as he bottomed out. 

“Good?” he asked.

“So fucking good.”

When he started to move, you thought you were going to die. In a good way. In a way that made you decide right there and then that when the time did come, this was how you wanted to go out. 

“Harder,” you encouraged, and he obliged. “Faster.”

He was properly fucking you now. Hard and fast and dirty. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, forcing him to go deeper. His head was buried in your neck, your nails were clawing up his back, and the room was filled with moans and pants and expletives that put a sailor’s mouth to shame. 

“Shit, baby,” he panted into your neck. “God damn, you feel good. So fucking tight.” He sped up his thrusts, and the bed was squeaking so much that you thought it was going to fall apart underneath you, but you were too far gone to care. He reached a hand down in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, circling it expertly. You were on the precipice of your release in seconds. And then —

“Come. Soak that fucking cock, baby. Come for me.”

And you screamed loud enough to get both you and him kicked out of the motel if they cared enough as your orgasm ripped through you. He fucked you through it, his pace only faltering moments later, right before he pulled out and painted your stomach white. It looked like a Jackson Pollock on your abdomen. Kinda hot, actually. 

“You okay?” Dean asked, looking down at you as he finally caught his breath.

“More than,” you smiled.

He mirrored the look on your face before crawling off the bed and heading to the bathroom. He came back moments later with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning his masterpiece off of your skin. When he was done, he threw it across the room, aiming for the bathroom, and it landed on the tile in front of the toilet. He laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest as he pressed a soft kiss into your hair, and you wanted to ask so many questions, all at once. What were you two now? How long had he been wanting this? Would there be a next time? Instead, you opted for —

“You know in fanfictions, they write you as a submissive most of the time.”

He snorted. “They’re half right.”

“A switch?” you asked, surprised. “Lucky me.”

He chuckled softly. “Sorry about your ass.”

You shrugged. “I was asking for it.”

“Oh, you were definitely asking for it. Still, I… I dunno. It was your first time, I didn’t want to get too —”

“It was perfect, Dean.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, smiling, dozing off already. “Yeah.”

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester smut

[shoeistars]

— NO PHOTOS ! pt. 2

༺ feat. reo, barou, rin, sae, shidou

༺ outline. where the boys keep their slutty polas of you <3

༺ w. pro!players, 18+ content, minors dni, photos/polas, fem!reader, read at your own discretion as I don’t do individual tagging for element of surprise <3

༺ pt. 1 (isagi, bachira, chigiri, kunigami, nagi)

— REO ! car dash

When Reo got his hands on his first hypercar, his main priority was keeping the thing clean. No trash, no eating inside of the vehicle, you weren’t even allowed to do your makeup when you’re playing your role of passenger princess. He just wanted to keep the interior spotless, despite the fact that he could buy as many overpriced vehicles as he fucking desired

So, when you hopped into the car one day and noticed the pola of you that he had resting against the dash of his brand new Bugatti, you were stunned. He hadn’t even put a goddamn air freshener on the rearview yet

Whenever you got around to questioning him, all he did was shrug, a smug grin on his face as he drove you to your nail appointment. After all, he got bored when he was sitting in traffic. The picture of you, perched on his California king with the prettiest bra and panty set hugging your body juuust right was worth bending a few rules over

— BAROU ! wallet

The polaroid itself was your idea in the first place. He didn’t really understand what the hell the hype was about, but he’d bend over backwards to see that pretty smile you’d give him when you got your way. Whenever he saw the photo, however, his perspective was changed immediately

You’d been hiked up onto a bathroom sink, always getting way too horny for your own good at events where attendance mattered. He’d sneak you away when you’d start touching on him and whispering dirty shit in his ear, never able to say no to his queen

Thus the birth of the pola nestled in his wallet, right beside his bank card. The view of his thick dick stretching your tightness out was too good to pass up, milky ring of cream wrapped around his base and spilling out of your hole. He just had to have it with him at all times

— RIN ! under his pillow

Pushing the pussy whipped loser boy agenda for Rin because you’re most definitely his first love, the first girl he’s ever touched, fingered, fucked. Having popped his cherry, he can’t help but be completely enamored by you. The mere thought of you gets him hard and he hates that factor to his core

Which plays into why exactly he has a nasty polaroid of you tucked under his navy-clad pillow, right where he rests his head to sleep for the night. It’s safe there, it’s within easy reach for him to fuck his fist to when you’re too far away, which is too often for his own liking thanks to away games

The photo itself is his treasure, a simple one where you’re on your bruised knees, showing him what exactly a facial is. Although he loves you most barefaced, he can’t even lie and deny that your face dripping wet and sticky with his seed isn’t the hottest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on

— SAE ! checkbook

Weird place, sure, but there is nothing normal about Sae as a whole. In his eyes, there are three prizes in the world: wins, money, and you. The polaroid fits perfectly right where he has it

There’s nothing more rewarding to him than whipping out his checkbook to buy something big, just to be greeted with your cunt on full display, the photo clipped front and center onto the leather book cover

It’s a real looker of a photo too, his thumb spreading your glossy folds to show off the stream of his cum dripping out of your hole, coating your asshole in thick nut. All he can ever think about is how you whimpered when he licked it up after snapping the shot

— SHIDOU ! pola wall

The consequences of dating a shameless, unhinged individual consists of your nudes being shown off any and every possible chance presented to him. He’s sick, sometimes unreasonable, but you’re too goddamn pretty for him to just hide away

Hence why he’s got a nice slab of white wall in his bedroom, fully dedicated to you. He calls it romantic, of course. All sorts of polas are taped up as decoration, different positions and scenarios

Maybe it’s awkward for guests that just so happen to step into his bedroom for whatever reason, but you like being shown off, don’t you? He figured a slut like you would wanna be put on display, considering you’re just like him

#bllk smut #blue lock smut #reo smut #reo x reader #barou smut #barou x reader #rin smut #rin x reader #sae smut #sae x reader #itoshi smut #itoshi x reader #shidou smut #shidou x reader

[joelsgreys]

fall into temptation | two

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter! Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. mentions of hickies, but i try to be as vague as possible. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56). several mentions of religion and religious symbols, mention of biblical verses, reader has several pet names (little dove, sweet girl, darlin’ girl, baby, babygirl), angst, jealousy, hints of possessive Joel, hints of soft dom Joel (if you squint), reader talks about leaving her faith/family, Esther makes an appearance, Seth also makes an appearance idk he’s nice to reader but we still hate him and will hate him even more in the next chapter. SMUT. mention of virginity (brief), reader is inexperienced but she’s not clueless, masturbation (female, minor mentions of male masturbation), public sex, oral sex (f receiving).

word count: 11.8k

Your soft, breathless moans fill the church just like a sweet, angelic hymn—a song of praise, devotion and adoration for the rugged older man whose lap you were currently straddling, your legs resting on either side of him as he sat in the wooden pew, his long, thick, calloused fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. Your pale blue blouse was unbuttoned and open for him, both cups of your plain, cotton white bra pulled down to give him access to more of you and your smooth, supple skin to ravage.

“Joel,” you gasped out his name, hands tangling in his unkempt salt and pepper curls as he flicked his warm tongue over a sensitive, hardened nipple—it only added fuel to the flames burning deep in your lower belly when he moved his mouth to the other, his lips wrapping around the peak to show it the same amount of attention. He lifted one of his hands and he cupped the breast that his mouth just abandoned, his fingertips brushing against the gold cross that was hanging from the long, delicate chain clasped around your neck. You still wore it every single day despite being the furthest you had ever been from your faith—there was something oddly fascinating about seeing the religious symbol next to all of the marks that Joel left on you, how it was surrounded by all of his sinful love bites. Your hands gripped at his hair even harder, breath catching in your throat as he rolled your nipple between his fingers, giving it a hard but pleasurable pinch. Arching your back, you found yourself grinding your hips into his in an attempt to relieve the intense pressure building between your thighs. “Joel, please—please, I need more.”

Groaning, Joel released your breast and trailed his mouth up north, his lips latching onto the delicate spot right under your jawline. He suckled gently at your pulse point, being careful so as not to leave a visible mark behind. The ones he left on your chest and shoulders were easier for you to hide, but your neck was out of the question seeing as your father made you wear your hair up in braids all the time—you wouldn’t be able to cover them up. The primal in him almost craved to send you back to him with your neck covered in his hickies. Joel wanted to make it known to your father that there was now a real man in your life, one who planned to break the chains and set you free from a life of control. You’d yet to fully express your desire to leave, however if and when the time came, Joel wouldn’t hesitate in taking you away from him. 

He would take good care of you, protect you, keep you safe, and the only worship you would know from that point on would be Joel’s worship of your body every single night in his bed. 

“Christ, darlin’ girl,” he groaned into your neck, his fingers digging harder into your hips. Surely, you’d have bruises there in the morning. “Keep it up and you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, babygirl.”

Desperately, you rubbed your soaked clothed cunt against his bulge. He was rock hard and throbbing for you, straining against the zipper of his jeans. It wasn’t enough to feel him through his clothes, not anymore. You needed more of him, so much more. You dropped your hands from his hair and reached down for his own, picking them up off of your hips and moving them to your thighs. You guided them underneath your skirt and slid them up higher and higher, closer and closer to where you needed him the most, where you were aching for him to finally touch you. As Joel’s fingertips brushed the crease in between your thigh and your hip, along the soft, thin cotton of your panties, he jerked back, pulling his hands out from underneath your long skirt. 

“No, little dove,” Joel chastised, lightly shaking his head at you. “Not tonight, sweet girl.”

“Joel,” You whined out his name. “It’s been almost a month! Are you kidding me right now?” You kept your word to him—for over three and a half weeks, you had been patient, just like he’d asked you. You had been sneaking out and meeting him in the old church house every night, spent hours upon hours sitting with him in the pew, or at least, you started the night sitting with him but at some point, you’d end up sitting in his lap instead. Half naked, hands tangled in his hair, your lips swollen with his kisses that you’d become so addicted to. He would never let it go further than that, though, and it was really beginning to wear your patience thin. It really did seem as though he planned on making you wait an eternity for him. You let out a small, frustrated sigh. “Okay, so if not tonight, then when?”

He leaned back against the pew, mulling it over in his mind for a minute. “Don’t know yet.”

You stared at him in utter disbelief, gaze wide. 

He didn’t know yet?

“Joel,” you said his name slowly. “Do you not—is it because you don’t want me? Is that what it is?”

Joel’s hands reached up and he cupped your face, cradling it gently in his palms. His eyes met yours.“Of course I fuckin’ want you,” he said, shaking his head again. “More than anythin’ I want you, baby.” He paused and bucked his hips upwards, brushing his hard on against you through your panties. “You feel that, darlin’ girl? You feel my cock?” When you didn’t respond, Joel gave your face a soft, but firm squeeze as he bucked again, eliciting a moan from you. “Just asked you a question, little dove.”

Breathless, you nodded and replied, “Yes, Joel. I feel it.”

“Then don’t ask somethin’ like that ever again,” he warned you, firmly. “That understood?”

You lifted your hands to his, fingers curling lightly around his wrists. “I’m sorry,” you apologized. “It’s just that I don’t understand it. If you want me, why haven’t you touched me?” You could hear the little tremble in your own voice—you hoped Joel hadn’t caught it, but the softening in his dark brown eyes made it clear he had. “I want you to touch me. You have my full consent, you know. I want this, Joel. I want you so badly. Please, just touch me already.”

“Baby, I told you. I don’t wanna rush it with you—”

“But why not?” you pressed, cutting him off. “Why wait when we both clearly want it?” Unable to help yourself, you exhaled a small, breathy laugh. “Why wait when I’m already sitting in your lap half naked with my breasts in your face?”

Joel sighed. He knew you were trying to lighten up the mood. “Baby—” he trailed off and softly grazed your cheeks with his thumbs. He tried to think of a response to give you but the truth was, Joel didn’t have an answer for you—he himself didn’t seem to fully understand why he was so hellbent on taking his time with you, waiting when he could have had you back on the first night and every night since.

He wasn’t just torturing you. 

Hell, he was torturing himself too. 

When he would go back home, Joel would fist his cock, his heart pounding almost violently inside of his chest, guttural grunts and groans spilling from his lips as he came to the mere thought of you. He almost found it amusing that you had the audacity to think he didn’t want you when every night, he’d shoot his load onto his stomach as he moaned out your name over and over again quietly underneath his breath. 

He wanted you just as much as you wanted him, if not so much fucking more.

But there was something holding him back from it and he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. 

For as much as Joel enjoyed spending your nights together with you straddling his lap, mouths fused with one another as he copped a feel of your body, making out like a couple of horny teenagers sitting in an old car on some hill that overlooked their tiny town—he vaguely remembered those nights in the cab of his dad’s old pickup—he found it wasn’t the only reason he looked forward to your company.

He liked being with you, liked being in your presence. 

He actually liked talking to you. 

There was something so endearing about you, the way you talked about working in the town’s schoolhouse and how you absolutely adored spending all day with a bunch of little ankle biters. He liked that you’d been comfortable enough to tell him of your life before the outbreak, about how, despite the religious, strict upbringing, you’d had a decent childhood. You spent your afternoons after parochial school at the river skipping rocks with your sisters. You were the rebel of the three, pulling your braids out in the car on the way to morning mass and spilling your juice on your dress on purpose—you told him about the way your parents would have to put you outside in timeout for being unable to sit still during services and Joel couldn’t help but laugh when he pictured a little girl with messed up hair and a dress stained with grape juice, feet dangling as she sat on some bench outside of a church with the other children who couldn’t behave themselves. 

“It got so bad my mother had to start bribing me,” you’d told him with a sheepish little grin one night. For once, you weren’t in his lap. Instead, you sat in the pew while Joel laid back, stretching out on the bench with his head in your lap. His gaze had been fixed on you as you lightly scraped your fingernails against his scalp through his hair over and over. “It was the only way. The night before church, Mama, she would tuck me into bed and promise me she’d spoon extra strawberry ice cream into my bowl for dessert all week if I behaved during service.” 

“Was strawberry your favorite?” he’d asked, curiously. 

“It was. What about you, what was your favorite?”

“Was more of a chocolate kinda guy myself,” he’d answered, closing his eyes as you continued to toy with his curls. 

Joel looked forward to spending his time with you. After his long, grueling patrol shifts, all that he had to go home to was a silent house, the air under his roof filled with unmistakable tension. Ellie had told him she was thinking of turning the garage behind the house into her own space—when he offered to put his past experience as a contractor to good use, she shut down his offer for help, mumbling something about having already asked Tommy. His brother confirmed it, informing him he’d be helping Ellie move into the garage that same week.

That night, seeing you had been the one thing, the one fucking thing that kept him from heading over to the bar to pitifully drown himself in bourbon. 

“Joel?” Your soft voice snapped him from his train of thought, your fingers squeezing his wrists. “Are you okay?”

“M’fine, darlin’ girl.” He offered you a small smile, his thumb sweeping your bottom lip. “You’ve been a real good girl for me, sweetheart. And I promise, you’ll get what you’re askin’ for soon. But not tonight.”

You pouted against his finger. 

“C’mon baby, put the lip away,” Joel chuckled and pushed it back in with his finger. He let both of his hands fall from your face and pulled at the cups of your bra, gently tugging them back into place. “All I need from you is a little more patience, alright?” 

“Fine,” you huffed out in defeat, rolling your eyes.

“Y’know, you’re awful cute when you’re annoyed,” he remarked with a playful smirk. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead and with his lips still against your skin, he murmured, “S’real late, little dove. I need to get you home now.”

Reluctantly, you nodded and climbed off his lap. 

You started buttoning your blouse, but Joel stood, reaching out to stop you. “Wait. Let me do that for you, baby.” 

Dropping your hands to your sides, you swallowed harshly, arousal pooling between your legs all over again as you looked down, watching his hands. Oh God, how those large hands of his just did you in—how was it possible that watching those hands do something as sweet and innocent as buttoning up your blouse for you had your cunt aching, dripping down the insides of your thighs?

“Joel,” you managed to choke out his name. 

He finished with the last button. “Yes, darlin’ girl?”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He touched your cheek and smiled wistfully. 

“Just wanna take care of you how I can, that’s all.”

Turning your face, you pressed a kiss into his palm with sweet affection he hadn’t known in well over two decades. 

After switching off all the lights in the church, Joel locked the door and slipped the key under the mat where you kept it hidden. He took your hand in his and the two of you started the fifteen minute walk to the residential side of the commune. Your place was down the road from his, a two story white and yellow cottage you shared with your family. Joel walked you up the front porch steps to the door, dropping your hand. He kept his voice quiet as he turned to face you. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, same time.”

“Tomorrow night, same time,” you parroted. 

Joel leaned down, brushing your lips with his own, softly. “Go on and get some sleep, my little dove.”

Your eyes widened slightly—had Joel meant to say it like that? My little dove?

Had he meant to call you his little dove? His? 

“Goodnight, Joel.” You bit back a smile and turned towards the door, opening it. Slipping inside of the house, you closed it behind you quietly before you carefully tiptoed your way up the stairs. The house was older and the hardwood floors creaked as you walked down the hallway. Slipping off your oxford shoes, you carried them in your hands as you tried to make it to your bedroom without waking one of your sisters—or worse, waking your father. He was a heavy sleeper, but you still took extra care not to make any noise as you padded past his door. Finally, you made it to your bedroom and slipped inside. 

Breathing out in relief, you flipped on the light and turned around only to see one of your sisters there in your room, perched on the foot of your bed with a small smirk on her face. You dropped your shoes on the floor and let out a small, startled yelp. 

“Leah!” you gasped, a hand flying to your chest. It surprised you that neither the sound of your shoes hitting the floor nor your scream woke Lydia—she was in the bedroom on the opposite side of your paper thin wall. “You just about gave me a heart attack! I thought you were an intruder!” you hissed. “What are you doing in here just sitting in the dark?”

Leah’s smirk widened. 

“I’ll tell you that when you tell me why Joel Miller’s walking you home at two thirty in the morning, my sweet baby sister.” She watched with a glimmer in her eyes as all the color drained from your face. “Is he the person you’ve been sneaking out to see?” 

Heat prickled at the back of your neck. “Oh stop it right now, Leah. You and Lydia already know that I go to the church house at night to pray—”

“For hours?” Skeptical, she raised an eyebrow and stood up, walking over to you. “And where does he come into play in all this? Hmm?”

You quickly racked your brain. “He, um, he was—he was walking home from the bar. He saw me as I was leaving the church and he was nice enough to offer to walk me home so I didn’t walk alone.”

Leah snorted. “That’s bullshit. For one, the church and the bar are on opposite sides of the commune and two, Joel Miller isn’t a fucking gentleman who just offers to walk a lady home on a whim. You two were together all night, weren’t you?”

“Of course not, all he did was walk me home—”

She reached out, roughly tearing open the front of your blouse and sending buttons flying all over the room. 

“Leah!” You pulled the fabric over your chest but it was too late—she had seen the marks that littered your chest and shoulders. 

“Oh, he did more than just walk you home.” Leah’s eyes widened slightly. It was hard to tell if she was shocked—or if she was impressed. “Wow. I did not think you had it in you, baby sister.” She shook her head and sat back down. “And with Joel Miller? Of all the fucking men in the commune—you decided to go for the most feared man in Jackson? I mean, how the hell did that even fucking happen?” 

You hung your head in defeat.

There was no way around it.

You’d been caught. 

“It’s—it’s a long story.”

She patted the spot next to her. “Well, it’s the end of the world and we’ve got nothing but time.”

Sighing, you took a seat beside her. You started to tell her all about what happened the night you had decided to leave The Tipsy Bison alone—how Kent had assaulted you, how Joel had saved you before the unthinkable happened. You told her how you’d taken Joel to the church to clean up his hand, how you asked him to kiss you after patching him up.

“Wait a minute, Kent called me a slut?”

You glared at her. “Leah.”

“Right. Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “So you and Joel have been seeing each other ever since?”

“Almost every night,” you admitted. “Except when he gets stuck with evening patrol. Or has a double shift. He had to do a few of those as a punishment for what he did to Kent.”

Leah let out a small, nonchalant, “Hm.”

“You know, for somebody who just discovered I’m seeing a man who’s twice my age, you don’t seem to be the slightest bit surprised by it.”

“Oh, please. Don’t think I don’t remember the way that man was staring at you that day when walked by him at the stables,” she grinned at you. “I knew Joel had a thing for you when I caught him staring at you. I just didn’t think he’d act on it,” she added as she leaned back into her elbows. “You do know what people around here say about him, right? I’m sure you’ve heard about things that he’s done—he’s killed people. With his bare hands, too.”

She didn’t sound all too concerned. 

She sounded like she was curious about it. Fascinated, even. 

“I’m sure he did what he had to do to survive—the same way most people in this town have. Besides, Joel isn’t the monster people make him out to be.” You paused. “I see a different side of him, Leah.”

Leah chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure you do.”

“Leah!” You smacked her leg lightly, biting back a small laugh. It was a relief, having her to confide in without receiving any kind of judgment. 

There was a brief, momentary silence, broken only when she asked, “So—the church house, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s pretty fucking hot. Makes me wish I would have thought of that myself.” Leah’s smile faltered and she sat up. “Please tell me you wipe down the pew the that he fucks you in, though.”

You nearly choked on your own breath of air. “No! I mean, it’s not like that,” you sputtered out. “We do get together at the church but we don’t—we don’t do that. We haven’t done anything.”

“Your tits are covered in hickies. You can’t possibly tell me that you’re still a daisy fresh girl,” she said. 

“Unfortunately, I still am,” you muttered, sourly. 

“What do you mean?”

“I want him to—” You stopped, unable to say it. 

Leah raised an eyebrow. “To fuck you?”

The blood rushed to your cheeks. “Yes.” 

“You won’t burst into flames if you say it, you know.”

Ignoring the jab you continued on, “But he won’t. I keep asking him, but he won’t touch me. He keeps telling me he doesn’t want to rush it and he wants to wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“I don’t know, but I wish I knew. I want him so bad but he won’t budge. I’ve practically begged him to just take me already.”

“You little sinner,” Leah teased. 

“Being with him doesn’t even feel like a sin. It feels so right, Leah.” Peering at her, you confessed, “It’s like the closer I get to Joel, the further I step away from God—from our faith.” Without thinking about it, you reached up and clasped your cross. You had expected it to trigger some kind of emotion in you but as your fingers curled around it, you found you felt absolutely nothing. “And the scariest part of it all is that I don’t even feel an ounce of guilt for it.”

“Well, I would say that’s a fucking good thing.”

“Papa would be so ashamed that I have strayed so far away from our faith.”

“Oh please.” Leah rolled her eyes and stood up. “It doesn’t matter. Papa doesn’t have to know.”

“But Leah—”

“We’re already living in fucking hell, baby sister, so you might as well start enjoying yourself.” Pausing at your door, she shot you a teasing little wink over her shoulder. “What better way to start than to get fucked by big, bad Joel Miller?”

Leah disappeared, quietly closing the door behind her before you could even think of how to respond to her. 

Later on, in the earlier hours of the morning, you’d found yourself tossing and turning in your bed.

The ache between your legs made it impossible to fall asleep. 

Rolling onto your back, you stared up into the dark of your bedroom, chewing nervously on your lip as you slipped a hand under your quilt and brushed a finger along the waistband of your pajama pants. 

You’d never in your life touched yourself. Sure, you had been tempted once or twice before—but as of late, the urge was becoming too difficult to resist. 

The throbbing between your legs wouldn’t stop.

You needed relief. 

Release. 

Hesitantly, you slipped your trembling hand under the elastic band of your bottoms, fingers anxiously skimming along the elastic band of your panties. It took a minute or two to work up the courage—but you finally slid your hand into your underwear. You closed your eyes, fingers brushing against the soft curls on your mound. Moving your hand lower and lower, you slowly dipped your index finger, sinking it in between your folds. You gasped out softly, the feeling of your own wetness igniting a fire that you knew you would only be able to put out by making yourself come. 

You thought about Joel and imagined it’s his hand in between your thighs instead of yours. You softly grazed your clit with your index finger once, twice, and then started rubbing the sensitive bud in slow circles, jolts of pleasure shooting up your spine. 

Suddenly, you withdrew your hand. 

Less clothes—this would feel so much better with less clothes. 

Kicking the quilt off your body, you peeled off your pajama bottoms and panties, sending them to the floor along with the blanket. Eagerly, you pulled at your oversized t-shirt, yanking it over your head. After discarding that too, you leaned back, resting comfortably against your pillows as you dove your hand between your legs. The other cupped one of your breasts, pinching and rolling a hard nipple as you rubbed your clit. Soft, quiet little moans begin to fall from your lips—remembering Lydia was just on the other side of the wall, you bit down on your bottom lip in an effort to keep the noise down. 

You could feel Joel’s hands and mouth on you, still smell his scent on you from earlier. 

Woodiness, spice, and musk. 

It’s become all too familiar to you.

Just like his touch, just like the sound of his voice.

“You feel that, darlin’ girl? You feel my cock?” 

Just the thought of that man had you on the edge and you moved your fingers faster, the wet sounds of your own slick filling the air around you. As your desperation mounted, you imagined Joel’s fingers plunging into you—long and thick, stretching your pussy out in an effort to warm up your tight, virgin walls to take his cock for the first time. 

The coil that was wound up deep in your belly was close, so close to snapping. You thought about his goodnight to you at your front door, and it was the way Joel had called you his little dove that pushed you right over the edge. You clawed at your sheets as your cunt convulsed, your velvet walls fluttering around nothing. Biting down on your lip again, you tried your hardest not to moan out Joel’s name. 

Just up the road, Joel was up in his bedroom lying in his bed, trying not to groan out your name as he came too.

You covered your mouth, stifling yet another yawn with the palm of your hand. 

The late nights with Joel were starting to catch up with you and waking up early for Sunday morning services had been particularly difficult for you that week. You’d overslept, but still managed to get up, get dressed and make it to service on time—still it meant nothing when your father expected his girls to be present at the church house two hours prior. All three of you helped set up for mass and while it was often Leah whom he scolded for not showing, later that morning it was you who would be on the receiving end of his agonizingly long lecture about honoring obligations, especially those to God. 

You weren’t looking forward to it. 

Sighing, you leaned back against the pew. You and your sisters always sat in the front—the very same bench that you straddled Joel’s lap in every night. 

You sagged slightly against Leah who chuckled as your father began delivering his sermon. The topic on the table that morning was lust of the flesh. 

“How appropriate,” she whispered, nudging you in the ribcage with her elbow. “Better pay attention.”

“Shut up,” you giggled, elbowing her right back. 

Lydia, who sat on the opposite side of you, leaned over, pressing her lips against your ear. “Um, since when does Joel Miller come to church?”

“What?” You shot her a strange look before taking a glance over your shoulder, following her gaze—it threw you for a complete loop to see him standing at the very back of the church near the doors with his rifle hanging over his shoulder. Throat bobbing harshly, you whipped back around in your seat.

What was he doing here?

“Jesus, he can’t bring a gun in here!” Lydia hissed, shaking her head. “Is he insane?”

Leah, who had caught onto the slight commotion, glimpsed over her shoulder. She put a hand on the pew between your bodies and lightly pinched your leg, fingers squeezing the flesh on the side of your thigh causing you to jump slightly in your seat. 

“Ouch! What did you do that for?”

“He wants you to meet him outside.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Why else would he be here?” Leah rolled her eyes at you. “And besides, he’s gone.” 

Perplexed, you looked over your shoulder again. 

Your sister had been right about the latter. 

Joel had seemingly vanished into thin air. 

“Don’t make it so obvious,” she murmured. “Give it a minute or two and then go—pretend that you have to use the bathroom. And don’t take too long,” she added. “Or it’s going to seem suspicious. Okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

Smoothing your skirt, you waited two minutes just to be safe and then leaned over towards Lydia. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to go use the bathroom.”

“But I thought you hated using the outhouse.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “A girl’s got to pee.”

Excusing yourself, you stood up and quickly made your way around to the side of the church, making your exit as inconspicuous as possible. Thankfully, everyone was too focused on your father to notice you making an exit. 

Once you’d slipped through the first set of double, wooden doors, you exhaled the breath you hadn’t even realized you had been holding back. You then pushed through the second set of doors, stepping out onto the porch of the church house. 

You looked around, but there was no sign of Joel.

“Where did you go?” you mumbled to yourself. 

Maybe Leah had been wrong after all. 

You walked down the steps and around the side of the church only to find him leaning against the old building, his hand wrapped around the strap of his rifle. 

“What are you doing here?” you questioned as you approached him. 

“Well good mornin’ to you too, my little dove.”

Your heart fluttered wildly inside of your chest.

There it was again. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, sheepishly. “I’m just—I didn’t expect to see you here, that’s all.”

Joel stepped towards you. “I know. I’m on my way to the stables to head out for mornin’ patrol,” he explained. He placed his hands on either side of your waist to pull you closer to him. “Wanted to see you, baby.”

“You did?”

He chuckled softly. “What? That strange?”

“We’ve never seen each other during the day.” You frowned at him. “Isn’t this kind of risky, Joel?”

“Ain’t no one around but us.” Joel leaned his head down, brushing his mouth softly against yours. He was warm and still tasted like his morning coffee. Pulling away slightly he stated, “There’s somethin’ I have to tell you, too. I ain’t gonna be able to meet up with you tonight, sweetheart.”

“Did you get stuck with double patrol again?” Your disappointment was evident in your tone. Tommy and Maria had already reprimanded him for Kent’s beating, were the double shifts still necessary?

Joel shook his head.

“No. Tommy’s birthday is today. They’re throwin’ a big party for him at The Tipsy Bison. M’real sorry—” 

Flashing him a sincere smile, you lifted your hands and placed them on his chest, assuring him, “Joel, there’s no need to apologize for anything. It’s your brother’s birthday. I wouldn’t expect you to miss it just for little old me, you know.”

“I know you wouldn’t, sweet girl. S’just that—”

He paused, momentarily hesitating. 

“What is it, Joel?”

“Wish I could take you with me. Y’know, as my—”

Joel stopped once again, his neck burning. 

You raised an eyebrow, grinning. “As your date?”

“I was gonna say as my girl. But yeah, that works too.”

His girl. 

Your heart fluttered again. “I would love that. More than anything.”

“Your old man, he wouldn’t like that, though.”

Your smile faltered. “Joel, please. Don’t—”

“I ain’t wrong, sweet girl. What would your dad say if he knew you were with someone like me? A man twice your age with more blood on his hands than the fuckin’ town butcher.”

“He wouldn’t approve—but I don’t care, Joel. I just don’t care. I like you,” you confessed, clutching his jacket. “I like being with you. And I know who I am, it makes things complicated, but—” Stopping, you chewed apprehensively on your bottom lip.

“But what, little dove?” he prompted. “Tell me.”

“Maybe—maybe things could change someday,” you said, softly. 

Realizing what you meant, Joel’s brows shot up. 

“You would leave?” 

“I would,” you confessed. “For you Joel, I would.”

He couldn’t believe it. “Don’t go sayin’ somethin’ if you don’t really mean it. Might get my hopes up.”

“But I do mean it,” your voice was earnest. “Really, I would, Joel. I would do anything to be with you.”

Joel took one look into those sweet, innocent little doe eyes and groaned. “Fuck, darlin’ girl. C’mere.”

Crashing his lips to yours, he spun you around and pinned you up against the wall of the church. Next to you was an open window—you could hear parts of your father’s sermon coming from inside as you melted into Joel’s arms. His tongue brushed along the seam of your mouth, silently demanding more. Your lips parted, granting him the access that he’d been seeking. His tongue curled with yours and he swallowed every little moan and whimper, drinking them down just like water. 

Joel reached down and lifted your long floral skirt, slipping a hand underneath the lace trimmed hem of it. His rough, calloused fingers dragged up your thigh and over your hip, lightly grazing the band of your panties. 

“Joel,” you gasped, tearing your mouth from his, a look of complete shock crossing your features. He couldn’t be serious—in broad daylight? Outside of the church where your father was preaching to the congregation at this very moment?

But even the shock of it all did nothing, absolutely nothing, to stop the arousal from pooling between your thighs. 

Joel skimmed your cheek with the tip of his nose. 

“You wet for me, baby?” Before you could respond to the question, he cupped your cunt through your panties, eliciting another small gasp. “Oh fuck, my sweet little dove. You’re fuckin’ soakin’ for me.”

Heart pounding painfully against your sternum, all you could do was nod your head and fist the lapels of his jacket even tighter. Your knees trembled and you were grateful to be securely pinned between a wall and this big bulk of a man, otherwise you’d be a crumpled heap on the ground by now.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” he cooed, though he knew exactly what he was doing to you. “Hm?”

“It’s just that I—oh Joel,” you mewled his name as he cupped you harder in his hand. 

Smirking, Joel pulled the damp cotton fabric aside and slid his index finger along your slit, your sweet slick coating his digit. “What do you want, my little dove?” He asked quietly against your cheekbone. 

You opened your mouth to respond, but it seemed as though you’d forgotten just about every word in the English language.

“Gotta tell me, sweetheart.” His finger grazed over your clit, sending shock waves through your whole body. “Use your words, babygirl,” he coaxed, nuzzling your cheek. “Gonna have to tell me what you want from me. Ain’t doin’ anythin’ unless you ask me for it.”

“I—I want you to touch me. Please, Joel, touch me more. I need you to touch me more.”

That’s all Joel had needed to hear.

He slowly pushed a finger into you, biting back his groan—you were wet, warm, and so fucking tight. 

“Joel,” you moaned out his name. 

Joel quickly covered your mouth with his opposite hand. “Shh,” he shushed you. “The window’s wide open. Someone could hear us if we’re too loud. M’gonna need you to be real quiet for me, alright? Think you can do that for me, sweetheart?”

You nodded, your reply muffled by the palm of his hand. “Mhm.”

“That’s a good girl.”

His hand dropped away from your mouth. 

You sank your teeth into your bottom lip, holding a cry as he pushed his finger further inside of you. It didn’t hurt, but you felt the pressure between your hips intensifying—on several nights you’d plunged your own fingers into your throbbing cunt in effort to pleasure yourself, but his were just so long and so thick and he reached spots you simply couldn’t reach no matter how hard you tried. 

“Christ, you’re so fuckin’ tight, baby. You think you can take another one? Hm?”

Your legs spread further apart for him in reply.

“Eager little thing,” Joel chuckled, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek before slipping a second finger into you. He bit back guttural groan—if your pussy felt this fucking good around his fingers, then how would it feel around his cock?

“Oh God,” you hissed, bucking down into his hand as his thumb swept your clit in a circular motion.

“He ain’t here, little dove,” he murmured. “S’just me.”

Releasing his jacket, you grasped at his shoulders. Your skin stretched taut over your knuckles as you held onto him, silently willing yourself to somehow stay tethered to this earth. 

Joel dropped his head into the hollow of your neck and slowly began to pump his fingers in and out of you. “This sweet little pussy feels so fuckin’ good.” He licked a stripe up the column of your throat, his fingers curling inside of you and hitting a spot that made your knees tremble. “But y’know what, I bet it tastes even fuckin’ better.” He lightly nipped you on your chin and withdrew his hand from between your legs, sinking down onto one knee. 

You watched with wide, shocked eyes as he took a hand and bunched your skirt in his fist to keep the fabric out of his way. With his other hand, he lifted one of your legs and draped it over his shoulder. It brushed lightly against his rifle. 

He placed a gentle kiss on the inside of your knee. 

Heart pounding with anticipation, excitement, and apprehension, you reached down, tangling both of your hands in his soft hair. 

As Joel began trailing his lips further up the inside of your thigh, part of the sermon carried out of the open window, your father’s voice loud and clear as he preached to the congregation. 

“For this is the will of God, your sanctification: 

that you should abstain from sexual immorality…”

Joel glanced up at you. “Y’tell me if you want me to stop—”

“Don’t,” you choked out. “Please. Don’t stop.”

Planting one final kiss on the inside of your leg, he pulled your panties aside and brought his face into the apex of your thighs. His mouth met your warm core, his tongue slipping between your slick folds.

Your father’s voice continued on—he sounded too close. He often paced around as he preached, and he must have drawn closer to the window. “…that each of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor…”

You bit back a helpless whimper as he dragged his flattened tongue up, down, and then up again, lips tasting every inch of you he possibly could. 

“…not in the passion of lust…”

Joel pushed your skirt up even further, completely exposing you. His mouth wrapped around your clit and he swirled his tongue around the swollen little bundle of nerves, groaning into you as he lifted his other hand, thrusting two fingers into your pussy.

“…like the Gentiles who do not know God.”

Your fingers gripped his curls like a vice, your nails scraping against his scalp—with every lick, suckle, and kiss of his tongue and thrust of his digits, your release drew closer and closer.

“Joel,” you whispered his name, desperately. “Joel I’m so close, I’m so so close—”

He groaned into your cunt, the vibration of it along with the way his thrusts quickened and the way he devoured you like a man starved sending you right over the edge you’d been teetering on. Feeling you convulse around his fingers, Joel pulled his mouth away from you and quickly rose to his feet. He had made it just in time—sealing his mouth over yours, he muffled your loud cries of pleasure.

His lips, his tongue, they lingered with the taste of you. 

Joel’s fingers slowed as he helped you ride out the crashing wave of pleasure. Letting go of your skirt, he slipped his arm around you, holding you steady against himself so that you wouldn’t keep digging your back into the wall. “I’ve got you, darlin’ girl. I’ve got you,” he murmured against your lips. His gaze met yours as he grazed your clit one last time, sending aftershocks throughout your body that made your knees buckle. Smirking, his arm tightened around you. “So fuckin’ sensitive, sweetheart.”

He withdrew his hand from between your legs and brought it up to show you—you felt the blood rush to your cheeks at the sight of his fingers. You’d left them dripping, coated completely with your slick.

“Open your mouth, baby.” His command was firm, but still soft, gentle. You did as Joel told you—your eyes fixed on his, you parted your lips slightly, just enough for him to slip his fingers into your mouth for you to lick clean. Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you slowly sucked your release off his digits, a hint of shyness in your half lidded gaze. “You like how you taste, don’t you, my darlin’ girl? Hm? Like how fuckin’ sweet you are?”

Moaning around his fingers, you nodded, and then released them with a small, wet pop. 

Joel groaned. He had half a mind to put you down your knees right then and there and have you take care of the straining in his jeans. Instead, he let go of you and checked to make sure your skirt looked okay. He then reached up and smoothed your hair, saying, “You gotta go back inside now, little dove.”

Before you could say anything, the sound of Lydia calling out your name caused you to jump slightly. 

She must have come outside looking for you. 

“Go,” he nudged you. “I’ll head around the back of the church so she don’t see me.” 

Joel started to whirl around to take off in the other direction when you caught his arm, stopping him.

“Baby, what are you—?”

Standing on your toes, you kissed his cheek softly. 

The innocence of it, and the smile you flashed him after the fact, knocked the fucking wind out of his lungs.

He watched, mouth agape, as you spun around on the heel of your shoe, hurrying back to the front of the church house to meet your sister.

It was late in the evening.

You were sitting cross legged on your bed—Lydia’s laying on the small, circular shag rug on your floor surrounded by several composition books and plastic, single subject folders. “Toss me some of those,” you said, waving your red marker in the air. “I can help you get through them quicker.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Um, don’t you have your own students’ homework assignments to grade?”

“Lyd, I teach three, four, and five year old children. I’m not exactly having them write papers trying to interpret Shakespearean sonnets,” you giggled. “It doesn’t take that long to grade alphabet worksheets or stick figure drawings.” You waved the marker once more. “So, do you want me to help you or not?”

Before she had the chance to respond, the door to your bedroom burst open and Leah waltzed inside donning a strapless, floral printed dress. Her locks were out of their braids, cascading down her back and a pair of strappy brown sandals, which she’d secretly traded a pair of earrings for in exchange, adorned her feet. 

“And just where do you think you’re going?” Lydia asked, shaking her head as she sat up. 

“We,” she emphasized, “Are going to a party.”

You frowned. “If you’re referring to the party down at The Tipsy Bison, that’s a party for Tommy Miller they’re throwing. It’s his birthday today, Leah. You can’t just show up to someone’s birthday party on a whim or uninvited. That’s just bad manners.”

“Actually, I bumped into Maria Miller at the bakery this afternoon when I went to buy rolls for dinner—she was picking up Tommy’s cake. She mentioned the party to me and extended the invitation.” Leah grinned. It’s almost like she’d forgotten about how she had tried getting into her husband’s pants just months ago while she was still pregnant with their son. Leah swore she didn’t remember that—which part of you honestly believed. She had been drunk out of her mind the night she tried making a move on Tommy Miller. “She said that we were welcome to join in on the festivities. So come on, ladies. Put on your best and let’s get going!”

“Sorry, I’m going to have to sit this one out,” Lydia said with a sigh. She gathered all of her things and stood up. “I have a dozen papers to grade. But you two go on and have fun.” She walked towards your door, elbowing Leah on the way out. “Behave.”

“Don’t I always, big sister?”

Scoffing, Lydia glanced back at you. “Please make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble?”

“Wait a minute, why do I have to babysit her?”

“Because you’re the good one.”

“Not anymore she’s not,” Leah muttered.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” she piped innocently. 

Rolling her eyes, Lydia bid a quick goodnight, then disappeared.

“Well come on then,” Leah walked over to you and grabbed your arm, dragging you off your bed. “We need to get you out of these drab clothes and into something cute!” 

You huffed, “What I’m wearing is just fine—”

“Don’t you want to get all dolled up for Joel?” She teased, lowering her voice as she pulled you to her bedroom just across the hallway. She shoved you inside and then closed the door behind her. “Look all nice and pretty for him?”

“Leah, I can’t talk to him at the party,” you told her as she lifted her hands and started taking the pins out of your braids. “It would raise an eyebrow—the last thing I want is for people to talk and it getting back to Papa. Or to put Joel in a weird spot at his own brother’s birthday party.”

She raked her fingers through your hair, taking out your braids. “Well at the very least, you can be eye candy for him to enjoy,” she stated with a smirk as she fussed around with your locks, which were textured from your braids. Once she was satisfied with your hair, Leah made her way over to her closet and started to dig inside a cardboard box that she kept tucked at the very back of it. She plucked a garment from it and tossed it over her shoulder at you. “Here, wear this one. I think Joel would like it on you.”

The dress was beautiful—a vibrant daisy yellow with a detailed eyelet embroidery and thin straps. You held it against yourself and let out a small scoff as you said, “Leah, I can’t wear this.”

“Don’t be silly, of course you can.” She threw a worn, tan leather cowboy boot at you, followed by the other. “I don’t have another pair of sandals but these go with the dress a hell of a lot better than oxfords do.”

You shook your head furiously. 

“I can’t wear this dress, much less out to the bar. It’s way too short—it’s inappropriate.”

Leah snorted. “Honey, Joel Miller made you come in his mouth outside the church house and a short dress is where you draw the line? Seriously?”

You opened your mouth to respond, then clamped it shut—she made a fair point. Without giving your sister anymore grief, you stripped out of your skirt and blouse and slipped the yellow dress on. You reached up take off your cross, but decided against it and left it alone.

Less than an hour later, the two of you walked arm in arm into The Tipsy Bison. 

“Wow,” you breathed out, looking around in awe—the bar had been completely transformed and you almost didn’t recognize the place. The bar’s owner Seth liked to keep the place dim, but since it was a special occasion tonight, he’d strung lights across the room from ceiling to ceiling. He had also taken all the tables and chairs and moved them all aside, creating a makeshift dance floor. In a corner of the bar, a band had set up to play live music. Currently on the microphone was Pamela, a woman who ran the town’s general store, singing a lovely rendition of Landslide by Fleetwood Mac.

“Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’

‘cause I’ve built my life around you 

but time makes you bolder…”

“Come on, let’s go grab a drink!” Leah tugged you over towards the counter. The both of you went up to Seth, who was helping his bartenders serve the dozens of party guests. She smiled sweetly at him and said, “Two glasses of whiskey, please. I’ll have mine neat and she’ll have hers on the rocks.” 

You wrinkled your nose.

You didn’t even like whiskey.

You could never choke down more than a sip, two or three if the ice watered the liquor down enough. 

“Of course, Leah.” Seth nodded. He looked over at you and did a double take in the middle of his pour that almost made him miss the glass. He let out a low whistle. “Well, look at you! Never seen you this dressed up before.”

“Doesn’t she look pretty?” Leah beamed proudly. 

“Just about the prettiest thing in the whole room,” Seth remarked with a wink as he placed your drink in front of you. “You two girls have fun but be careful. There’s a lot more drinking going on than usual—any one of these heathens bother you, you come tell me and I will kick their behinds out of this party. Got it?”

“Thanks, Seth!” you both chirped in unison. 

Taking Leah’s hand, you led her across the bar and over towards a small vacant booth to sit. You knew it was only a matter of time before someone came over to whisk your sister away from you for a dance. You could see, out of your peripheral vision, a group of drunk patrolmen crammed together like sardines in a tin in the booth adjacent to yours throwing glances at Leah already. 

“They’re looking at you too, you know,” she said in a matter of fact tone, lightly clinking the rim of her glass to yours before taking a drink. 

“Well, they’re wasting their time,” you mumbled as you lifted your glass to your lips and took a careful sip of the bold amber liquid. It burned, making you cough and sputter violently. “Nope, I can’t do this. Here,” you shook your head and shoved your glass towards her before standing up. “I’ll be right back, I’m going back to the bar to ask Seth for a glass of water or something.”

Cutting across the dance floor, you were quick but careful not to bump into anyone as you made your way back to the counter. 

“Back for another already?” Seth asked, chuckling as he took the bar towel in his hands and draped it over his shoulder. “I really didn’t take you for much of a drinker.”

Smiling sheepishly, you admitted, “I’m not.”

“Ah, I see now.” He nodded in understanding. “I’ve got fresh squeezed lemonade?”

You grinned. “Lemonade sounds really good, actually.”

“Coming right up.”

As you stood there waiting, you leaned against the counter and glanced over your shoulder, your eyes subtly scanning the room for Joel. There were way too many people—more than half the town turned out for Tommy Miller’s birthday and the bar had to be well over its maximum capacity. Exhaling a tiny sigh of defeat, you grabbed the glass of lemonade Seth set in front of you, kindly thanking him for it. Whirling around on the heel of your boot, you froze for a second realizing someone had been standing behind you waiting for you to move, so close you’d nearly crashed right into his broad chest.

“Oh, m’sorry about th—” 

The man you’d almost ran into began apologizing, but then abruptly stopped short, his familiar, dark brown eyes widening in complete and utter shock. 

“Hi Joel,” you breathed, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. 

Joel hadn’t necessarily dressed up for tonight, but he wore a much nicer shirt than his usual denim or plaid—instead, he’d gone with a long sleeve brown corduroy button up. The material fit snug over the broad planes of his chest and his shoulders. If that alone wasn’t enough to make your knees go weak, then the way he’d left the top two buttons undone would finish the job. 

“What are you doin’ here?” 

“Maria extended the invitation to us,” you said in a small, shy voice—you didn’t quite know how to act with Joel with so many people around. Part of you worried people would notice and start talking. The other part of you couldn’t care less if they did. You feared your father finding out, and yet at the same time, you were ready for him to know that you had a man in your life, a man that you were certain you were slowly but surely starting to fall for more and more with every passing moment. “She invited us all, but it’s just me and Leah here tonight.”

Joel’s gaze swept over you, his throat going dry as sandpaper. “You look real different,” he said, doing his best not to let it linger too long. 

Nervously, you asked, “Good different or bad different?”

“Good different.” He’d murmured it so quietly, you almost didn’t catch it over the music. “You look so fuckin’ beautiful.”

A bashful little smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Thank you.”

Before another word could be exchanged between you and Joel, a stunning woman with short brown hair, intense eyes, and slender, mile-long legs only further accentuated by her tight denim skirt came up beside him. She slipped her arm through Joel’s and shot him a perplexed look. 

“Joel? What’s taking so long with those drinks?” 

The color instantly drained from Joel’s face.

Simultaneously, your heart dropped, deep into the pit of your churning stomach. 

The woman’s eyes flickered over to you.

“Wait, you’re one of John’s daughters, aren’t you? Wow, I almost didn’t recognize you,” she said with a kind smile. “I don’t think we’ve ever officially met each other since I got to Jackson, but I’m Esther. I work in the commune’s infirmary. You work over in the schoolhouse, don’t you?”

“I do.” You offered her a small smile in return, hoping that it didn’t look as forced as it felt.

Joel tried meeting your gaze, but you refused.

“You must teach Ellie’s class, then,” she stated, an unmistakable hint of relief in her tone.

Because what other reason could Joel Miller have to be talking to you of all people at this party?

“Yeah, that’s it. I teach Ellie’s class.” Gripping your glass so tightly in your hand you were worried that it would shatter, you cleared your throat and in the most polite voice you could possibly muster under the circumstances, you said, “I should probably be getting back to my sister. It was very nice meeting you, Esther.”

Without even bothering to wait for her to respond, you stepped around Joel and quickly hurried back to yours and Leah’s booth. You slid into it, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill over. 

Leah frowned. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

Afraid you would crumble if you spoke, all that you could do was nod over towards the bar where Joel and Esther were waiting for their drinks. She had a hand on his back, rubbing affectionate circles into it as she lightly rested her head on his shoulder. 

“Fucking asshole!” She hissed, angrily. “I ought to go up there and give him a piece of my mind—”

You cut her off, sounding miserable. 

“For what, Leah? For being with someone who is a lot closer to his age than I am? Someone who isn’t a strict preacher’s daughter?” Your voice broke off slightly and you paused to recollect yourself. “Why did I ever think someone like him could ever—God, I’m so stupid. I’m so, so stupid.”

You dropped your head into your hands. You knew you couldn’t completely blame yourself, after all, it wasn’t like you had made up all those nights you’d spent with Joel in his arms or just imagined all the things he had said to you. 

Still. It didn’t make you feel any less foolish, like an incredibly naive, dumb little girl who hadn’t known any better. 

“Good evening, ladies.” 

Pulling your face out of your hands, you looked up, your gaze meeting that of a handsome young man with blond hair and deep blue eyes. Offering you a polite smile, he extended his hand. 

“I hate to see such a pretty girl look so down. How about a dance or two to cheer you right up?”

Glancing over at the bar, you could see Joel’s eyes were now fixed intently on you as Esther chatted with one of the female bartenders behind the counter. 

You didn’t even hesitate.

Turning back to him, you accepted his hand. “I would absolutely love to dance with you.”

He knew what you were doing. 

Oh, he knew exactly what you were fucking doing.

And it was working like a goddamn charm. 

Joel leaned back into his chair and kept a cool and calm, collected demeanor on the outside—despite feeling anything but on the inside. 

Jealously bubbled in the veins underneath his skin as he watched Nathan, a young man who couldn’t be much older this his late twenties, reach for your hands, placing them on his shoulders. Joel inhaled a sharp breath at the sight of the patrolman taking your waist, pulling your body flush against his own as he led you in what had to be your third or fourth dance of the evening, this one slower than the rest of them as the band struck up a romantic ballad.

He wrapped his fingers around his glass, holding it in an iron grip as Nathan held you even closer, way too fucking close for his liking. Joel had half a mind to walk out onto the dance floor and rip you out of his arms. It would cause a scene though, and that was the last thing he wanted to do at his own brother’s birthday party.

And then there was you. 

You weren’t making things any easier for him. Your arms wrapped around the man’s back, fingers lost in the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck—smiling up at him with a flirty little glimmer in your eyes. If Joel didn’t know any fucking better, he’d think you were actually enjoying yourself with Nathan. But it didn’t matter whether or not it was just an act, you being in the arms of another man bothered him.

It fucking bothered him. 

“Don’t go rearrangin’ that kid’s face too.” Tommy’s voice came from beside him. Maria had gone back to the house to check up on Noah—Ellie offered to watch him for the night despite never having been around an infant before in her life. Being the worry wart mother that she was, Maria decided to swing by and see how the teenager was faring alone with a five and a half month old. Esther, who had finally grown sick and tired of being brushed off by Joel all evening, decided to go with her, leaving the two brothers alone. 

Joel turned to look at him. 

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout,” he replied with a shrug. He lifted his glass to his lips, draining the rest of his bourbon in one gulp. 

“Spare me the bullshit, Joel. You’ve been watchin’ those two like a fuckin’ hawk all night long. Wanna tell me what’s goin’ on between you and the girl?” 

“Nothin’s goin’ on between us.”

Tommy snorted. “Then why do you look like you’re just about ready to go over there and knock Nate’s fuckin’ head off his shoulders?”

“Just makin’ sure he don’t step outta line with her, that’s all. After what happened with Kent—”

“Whose nose you fuckin’ shattered with your fist,” Tommy interjected. “It ain’t ever gonna heal right. Hope y’know that.”

Joel narrowed his eyes. “He’s lucky I didn’t fuckin’ kill him after what he tried to do to her, Tommy.”

“Look, I ain’t sayin’ Kent didn’t deserve it, but that ain’t the way we handle things around here.”

Joel rolled his eyes. 

“You and Maria gave me this lecture already.”

“I know, but a reminder don’t hurt.” Tommy traced a circle around the rim of his glass. “I ain’t stupid. I know that somethin’s been goin’ between you and that girl. And whatever it is—it needs to stop, Joel. It’s bad enough that she’s half your fuckin’ age but she’s also one of the preacher’s daughters. When I told you it was best to keep your distance from his girls, I said it for good fuckin’ reason, brother.” For the sake of not stirring up an argument at his own party, Tommy decided to leave it at that. He stood from the table and picked up his empty glass. “M’gonna go get a refill. Can I get you one too?”

“No thanks,” Joel mumbled, a slight bitter edge to his tone.

“Hey.” Tommy lightly clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m just tryin’ to look out for you, Joel. Alright?”

When Joel didn’t respond, Tommy shook his head, dropped his hand from his shoulder, and made his way across the bar over towards the counter.

Shoving his brother’s warning out of mind without giving so much as a second thought, Joel glanced over towards the dance floor once again. The song had just ended and the band announced that they were going to take a brief five before their next set started. Setting his glass down, Joel watched your every move, and more importantly, Nathan’s every move. 

Standing on the tips of your toes, you’d whispered something into his ear with a small grin before you planted a kiss on his cheek. Then, you spun on the heel of your boot and started off towards the bathrooms located at the back of the bar. 

Trying to be as subtle as possible, Joel stood from the table and followed suit. He caught up to you in the short, dimly lit hallway and once he saw that the coast was clear, he grabbed your arm with one hand and covered your mouth with the other hand to muffle the sound of your scream. “S’just me!” Joel hissed into your ear, pushing you through the nearest door—the bar’s supply closet. Once inside the tiny room, he locked the door, flipped the light switch, and turned to face you. 

You stood there absolutely seething.

“Joel, what is the matter with you?” you spat angrily at him. “You almost gave me a heart attack just now! What’s your problem?”

“Could ask you the same fuckin’ question,” he shot back, though he kept his voice low, calm.

For as mad as he was, he didn’t want to raise his voice at you. 

“Let me out.” You started towards the door, but he was quick to block it. “Joel, let me out right now.”

“Not ‘til you explain to me what you were doin’ out there dancin’ with that little prick all fuckin’ night long.”

Lifting your chin, you feigned innocence. “Oh, you saw us?”

Joel glared at you. “Don’t you play dumb with me, little dove.”

The sweet nickname that once put a smile on your face suddenly made you feel sick to your stomach.

“First of all, don’t call me that, okay?” There was a slight, trembling edge to your tone. “And second, I honestly could have sworn that you were too busy with your girlfriend to even notice me and Nathan—oh, and speaking of Nate, he’s out there waiting for me to come back from the bathroom right now, so if you wouldn’t mind stepping side so I can leave, I would greatly appreciate it.”

Joel didn’t budge. “Listen, you got the wrong idea about Esther, darlin’ girl. The wrong fuckin’ idea.”

“Do you honestly think I’m stupid or something?”

“Just wait a second, let me expl—”

You cut him off with a scoff. 

“You know, you really had me fooled, Joel. I fell for it, I fell for all of it. Do you even realize I was willing to leave my family for you?” You curled your hands into tiny fists at your sides. “Everything that I have ever known and built my entire life around, I would have walked away from it all just to be with you.”

He let out a loud, frustrated sigh. 

“Christ, can you just let me fuckin’ explain?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, your gaze fell, dropping to the floor as you gave him a chance to speak. 

“Esther, she ain’t my girlfriend.” He paused briefly, then added, “but I ain’t gonna lie to you either, sweet girl. She’s someone that I used to—”

Joel paused once again, trying to think of the best way to phrase it, but you beat him to it. 

“Sleep with?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, his shoulders sagging. “But it didn’t mean a goddamn thing. Tommy and Maria introduced us months ago. He wanted me to meet somebody I could settle down and build my new life with here in Jackson. Nothin’ came out of it except for a few months of meaningless sex.”

“Joel, I don’t want to hear about you screwing her. Please, just let me out,” you pleaded, trying for the door once more.

“Baby, stop.” Grabbing your shoulders firmly, Joel walked you backwards and pinned you against the wall. “Look at me.”

“No,” you mumbled, refusing to meet his gaze just like you had earlier that night back out in the bar. 

“Look at me.”

Finally, you brought your eyes up to meet his. 

“When I started seein’ you, I put an end to it. Told Esther I couldn’t keep on doin’ what we were doin’ and it had to stop,” Joel explained. “But she hasn’t been able to accept I want nothin’ to do with her. She’s fuckin’ been all over me tonight and I let her for the sake of not causin’ tension at the party. She’s my sister-in-law’s best friend and last thing I fuckin’ wanted was for Esther to go cryin’ to Maria about me again. But then I saw you here and—” He trailed off. 

“And what?”

Joel dropped his hands from your shoulders. “And I stopped carin’ about anythin’ else but you, darlin’ girl. Nothin’ else fuckin’ mattered to me but you.”

“Why should I believe you?”

He stepped back, lightly shaking his head. 

“‘Cause I think I’m fallin’ for you, little dove.”

Joel wasn’t just making the confession to you. 

He was making it to himself. 

Your breath hitched in your throat and you grasped at the wall behind you, your fingernails scraping at the old, chipped paint. 

“It’s the reason why I haven’t—m’afraid if we take the next step, it’s gonna ruin things, y’know?I don’t wanna lose what I’ve got with you. I wouldn’t be able to handle losin’ you.” 

Somehow, you managed to find your voice. “Joel, I can promise you, you’re not going to lose me.” You stepped forward, delicately placing both hands on his chest. Even through the thick fabric of his shirt you could still feel his heartbeat thumping against the palm of your hand. Hard. Fast, almost too fast. “You couldn’t lose me. It’s just not possible.”

His own voice was just above a whisper. 

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’m falling for you too.”

Tilting your head up, you stood on the toes of your boots and brushed your lips against his softly. Joel slipped his arms around your waist and he whirled you around, pinning you between himself and the door. His tongue swept roughly along your lower lip before coaxing its way into your mouth without any kind of resistance on your part. He reached up and cupped the back of your neck in his palm. 

“Joel,” you whimpered his name into his mouth as your back arched off the door, demanding more of his touch.

Breathless, Joel pulled his mouth away from yours eliciting a desperate, frustrated moan from you. 

“No, please don’t stop,” you whined, pressing your chest into his. “Please.”

“That little stunt you pulled out there,” he said, his lips ghosting yours, “I ain’t all too happy ‘bout it. I hope y’know that.” Although he was teasing you, there was a seriousness to it. “Tried to make me jealous, didn’t you, babygirl? Well, it fuckin’ worked. Got me all riled up.”

“I’m sorry about that.” Accompanying the apology with a sweet, innocent bat of your eyes, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and dragged a hand slowly down the length of his chest. “Let me make it up to you?”

“And how’re you gonna do that, little dove?” Joel’s voice grew hoarse as he felt your hand going lower and lower, over his stomach and down towards his belt buckle. 

Fingers brushing over the brass, you smirked, “I’m sure I can think of something.” 

Joel bit back a groan, feeling the blood rush to his cock. Before he could say anything, you pressed a feather-soft kiss into his neck, your hand cupping him through his jeans. “Fuck,” he hissed the curse through gritted teeth. He planted his hands on the door behind you on either side of your head as his knees buckled slightly. 

“Let me show you how sorry I am,” you cooed into his warm, flushed skin. Just as you started sinking to your knees, he stopped you. 

“Wait. Not here. Ain’t putting you on your knees in some dirty fuckin’ supply closet next to mops and brooms,” he gruffed. “M’gonna take you home to my place.”

You frowned. “But what about—”

“Kid’s at Tommy and Maria’s babysittin’ Noah. Ain’t comin’ back ‘til tomorrow. Besides, she’s livin’ in the garage now.” He unlocked the door and took your hand. “C’mon.”

You glanced up at him with wide eyes as he pulled you out of the closet. “People are going to see—”

“Exactly. Want everyone to see you’re mine.”

Swallowing harshly, you let Joel lead you back out to the bar where the party was still in full swing. 

You felt the heat prickling at your face and neck as several people stopped in the middle of what they were doing and began to whisper. Even Leah, who had been dancing, stopped mid-shimmy, her eyes wide with shock at the sight of Joel Miller openly holding your hand in his. 

“Joel,” you murmured nervously from behind him. “Joel, everyone’s staring at us.” 

He held your hand even tighter. 

Let them.

#fic: fall into temptation #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller series #joel miller self insert #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction

[lovelytsunoda]

glad I crashed the wedding // oscar piastri

summary: she needed a wedding date. he wanted a reason to spend time with her. but of course, the inn only has one bed, and oscar makes her feel alive in a way she's never felt before.

pairing: oscar piastri x female! reader

warnings: sexual tension, one bed trope, difficult sister relationship (though they love each other very very much), eventual smut, fake dating (I’ve been reading too much Ana Huang lately)

“so let me get this straight,” she began, swirling the coconut-mango-pineapple icy drink in her hand, leaning back against the photocopier. “you, the great oscar piastri, wants to come home with me to be my date for my sisters wedding, and you don’t want anything in return?”

oscar nodded, a wide grin on his face as the copy machine continued to churn out waivers for the hot lap guests to sign. “that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“but why?”

oscar shrugged, trying to come up with a convincing lie. “because I’m your friend. and this is what friends do.”

y/n sighed, sipping her drink before turning away from the driver. keeping eye contact was dangerous when it was with oscar piastri. when it was with the man who set her nerve endings on fire, who made her stomach churn like the rising tide with a gesture as small as a wave, or an offer to buy her a drink.

who had an accent that made her core throb, soaking her panties right through when she thought about how his voice would sound in her ear if he was whispering some less-than-holy things to her.

“I don’t want to subject you to the insanity. you might not want to be friends after you meet my family. we can’t even be in the same room sometimes, it’s like dropping a match onto a pile of dry leaves.”

oscar laughed and she tried to ignore the shivers the sound sent up her spine, the rising goose flesh on her arms as she counted the waivers, having to start the count over again more than a few times.

“I’m sure they’re not that bad.” oscar reasoned, taking the file folder from her, insisting on lightening her load. “I just want you to feel at ease.”

she rolled her eyes, grabbing her drink as she started to walk out of the motorhome. “I’ve been living in delias shadow since I was fourteen. she’s a well respected medical professional; and I went to a three year college. everything she does is perfect. hell, she’s getting married this weekend and here I am, convincing myself that letting you tag along is a good idea so I don’t look like I’m going to die alone.”

it’s not like she wasn’t successful. she was a part of the legal team for one one of the biggest racing names in the world. when Oscar’s contract dispute started, she had been the one who served otmar his papers (and to this day, saying the words “otmar szafanuer you have been served, see you in court” was still one of the finest moments of her career).

it’s just that delia always brought out the worst in her, every insecurity, every flaw she hated about herself. their childhood has been fraught with insecurity and competition.

she sighed, leaning against one of the paddocks scratchy palm trees, bark digging into the skin on her arms. oscar was still trying to plead his case, and she wondered why she was fighting it.

this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? oscar on her arm, making her feel like she was wanted, loved, even?

she took another sip of her drink before she spoke again.

“we’ll probably have to share a hotel room, and my dad might threaten you with his antique saw collection. you’ll also have to stop me from killing delia with my bare hands before the big day.”

oscar chuckled, handing back her file folder. “I think I can handle that.”

that goddamn smile. that’s where it all started, when she first started to think about his lips on hers, his hands in her hair, his mouth wrapped around her nipples.

why on earth was she agreeing to this?

“you’d better be up bright and early tomorrow. it’s a long flight and my dad is meeting us at the airport. as far as everyone knows, I’m not bringing a date.”

the feeling of his hand against the small of her back burned into her skin. she could feel his body heat through the thick fabric of her papaya golf shirt as he started guiding her towards the garage where the hot laps were being conducted.

“oscar, what are you doing?”

he grinned at her, baring his pearl-white teeth, in their slightly uneven top row. “if we’re going to convince your dad that we’re together, we’d better start practicing.”

god, this man was going to be the death of her.

————

she regretted inviting oscar along the second they got off the plane.

from the moment they passed through airport security, it was as if a switch had been flicked in her brain, converting him from the serious, driven race car driver she met at the track, to a man straight out of the romance book she had been listening to on the flight. his hand was rooted to her back protectively, and he wouldn't let her carry any of her luggage on her own.

she could get used to this, she thought, watching his t-shirt ride up over his defined abs as he reached into the overhead cabin to pull down her two small suitcases.

they walked peacefully through the terminal, oscar pushing the baggage cart with one hand, his free arm looped over her shoulder.

"you know you don't have to act like my boyfriend until we see my father, right?" she said hesitantly, running a thumb over his knuckles. "my feelings won't get hurt if you don't want to pretend when nobody else is around.

oscar acted like he was about to say something, but he was cut off by a shout across the airport.

"y/n!" the voice shouted. "there's my girl!"

"dad!" she shouted, breaking away from oscar's side to launch herself into her father's arms. the constant travel that came with working in formula one took it's toll, and she didn't get to see her father as often as she liked. she'd had to move to england to work with mclaren, and her family had stayed behind.

she never said she loved that part of her job, but a little space away from her family often made her appreciate them a little more.

"dad, i want you to meet someone." she started, waving at oscar, who lumbered over with the weighed-down baggage cart. "this is my boyfriend, oscar." despite the lie, and how foreign the words were, saying them almost felt right.

my boyfriend oscar.

"i'm carl, nice to meet you." her father said, his voice a slight bit more gentle than his usual grunt.

oscar shook carl's hand, a bit of weariness on his face as he slipped his smooth, dainty hand inside carl's larger, more calloused one. "nice to meet you, sir."

carl raised an eyebrow. "australian? you'd better not be giving my daughter any of those australian kisses."

"dad, what the hell!?" she whined, hiding her face behind her hands as a blush began to coat her cheeks. if there was one thing she definitely was not getting from oscar piastri, it was australian kisses.

oscar thought she was cute when she was flustered. it was such a shame it took him an hot minute to figure out why.

australian kisses are like french kisses, just down under. it was mark who had said it to him first, in an attempt to be funny. as the meaning set in for oscar, he found himself silently cursing mark webber.

but it didn't mean he didn't get half-hard thinking about having his head between y/n's thighs.

________

"you've got to be shitting me."

she knew they would be sharing a bedroom. all of the plus ones were rooming in the chic, trendy motel with the guests who had invited them. and that would have been fine.

except that this hotel only had a queen bed, done up with plush white sheets and a small turquoise blanket draped over the bottom half.

a queen bed that she would have to share with a man that she wished would fuck her brains out.

"i can call the main office if you want." oscar suggested softly, reaching for the door handle. "i can see if they have another room, or they could bring a cot in for me?"

she sighed, raking her hair over her head as she looked around the room. "don't bother. the motel only has fifteen rooms, and it's booked solid for delia's wedding, between her bridal party and the fiancée's family, i doubt they'd even really have a cot. we can manage, right?"

oscar nodded, hands buried deep in his sweatpant pockets. damn those gray sweats.

"we can make a towel barrier, and the bed is more than big enough for both of us. hell, we could probably have a threesome on that bed and still have space."

did oscar piastri not have a single drop of shame?

she shook her head, trying to forget the thought of a half-naked oscar hovering over her, whispering things in her ear. she made a grab for her suitcase placing it on the bed and grabbing a handful of clothes and a travel bath and body works bottle.

"i'm going for a shower, can we talk about this afterwards? i'm jet lagged and i really just want to sleep."

"sure." oscar shrugged, spreading hismelf out on the bed, arms over his head so that his shirt once again showed off his stunning lower torso.

she tried to stop herself from staring at the happy trail dipping under oscar's waistband, but she failed miserably, her eyes following the small trail of hair down to the waistband of his jack and jones boxers, to the impressive lump underneath his jeans.

if his cock was that big when it was soft, how would it feel when it was hard, throbbing and inside of her. just the mere thought was making heat grow between her legs-

nope. we're not going there today.

she squeaked out some kind of muffled statement, clutching her clothes to her chest and making a mad dash towards the bathroom door. a cold shower should fix this, right?

when oscar heard the shower turn on, the music clicking on soon after, he sat up on the bed, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. he knew he should shower as well, but the fatigue of air travel was beginning to set in. a small nap wouldn't hurt, right?

he got up from the bed, socked feet sliding against the laminate floor as he reached for the wheels on the bottom of y/n's suitcase. all he needed to do was close the suitcase, move it out of the way, close his eyes, and then drift of into a peaceful slumber.

all he had to do was hope that he didn't wake up hard, or moan her name in his sleep. it should be easy, right?

wrong. the suitcase slipped out of his grip, almost sliding off the bed before he thanked god for his reflexes, stopping the suitcase from hitting the floor, save for a few articles of clothing.

he leaned down picking up the black busted tour shirt and denim shorts, his breath catching in his throat when he saw what was resting on the area rug underneath.

it was a mass of bright peach lace, the color so close to the mclaren signature papaya, his heart hammering in his chest as he picked it up and unraveled the halter bralette. he bit back a moan as he stared at the lace and mesh that left very little to the imagination.

he started to think about his mild-mannered co-worker wearing it, her perky nipples pressing against the bright, skimpy fabric.

the mere thought sent all the blood rushing straight to his cock.

god, he was down so bad that it should be criminal.

he shouldn’t be thinking about whispering dirty sweet nothings against her skin, or sucking a hickey into her thigh before he plunges his tongue inside of her.

he shouldn’t be thinking about anything that would make his boner worse.

and that was when he heard the bathroom door open. and there wasn’t enough time to hide the sweat seeping from the pores on his skin, the tent in his sweatpants, or the fact that he was still holding the offending lingerie in his hands.

“it’s not what it looks like!” the driver sputters, turning around to face her, and bitting his lip to stop himself from losing whatever composure he has left.

she’s wearing booty shorts that barely cover her backside, the ass emblazoned with the acronym for the college she attended, her top half covered with a loose-fitting muscle tank sporting a skeleton on a surfboard, the sides of her bare tits just barely visible through the arm holes.

“oscar,” she breathed, voice raspy when she saw the tent pitched in his pants. “do i turn you on?”

“you have since the day I met you.” he admits, dropping the bra and slowly moving closer, hesitantly running his hands down her still-warm sides. “tell me, y/n, do you touch yourself when you think about me?”

“i could ask you the same.” she shot back, her voice wavering as she pressed her hand shakily against oscars clothed cock. “your boyfriend act didn’t feel like an act this morning.”

they shouldn’t be doing this. it was crossing so many lines. but when oscar looked her dead in the eyes and breathed out a single word, all thoughts of self control went out the window.

"yes."

she pressed her lips against his, nipples springing to attention as she pressed her front against his, his hands moving from her sides to squeeze and caress her breasts, her mouth falling open in a moan against his lips. oscar took that chance to slip his tongue inside her mouth, his hands migrating to her hair as he maneuvered their bodies towards the bed.

she took the lead once her back hit the mattress, practically ripping her tank top off and casting it aside, hands making a mad grab for oscar's plain white shirt while he kissed and marked up her neck.

she whimpered under his touch, and would have been embarrassed had she not been so turned on.

"oscar, please." she begged, spreading her thighs as she tried to grind her core against his thigh. "i need you. i need your cock so deep inside me that i can still feel it three days later."

oscar practically growled at the admission, pulling his lips off her right tit. "are you begging for me, pretty girl? do you want me to make you feel good? hm, want me to treat you right?"

"yes." she breathed, tucking a hand underneath his boxers. "please, oscar."

god, his name sounded so sexy rolling off her tongue. he couldn't think straight when she had her slender fingers wrapped around his cock.

"are you sure you want this? because once i have you, i won't let you go. i'll need more."

"i'm sure, oscar. and i'm not just saying that because i think your mild possessiveness is kind of hot."

oscar smiled, a small, imperceptible blush forming on his cheeks. "you think i'm hot."

"since the day i met you." she hummed, sewing her lips to his, her fingers tugging on his hair, a small moan leaving his throat.

"oh, so pretty boy likes it when i tug on his hair." she giggled. "i learn something new every day."

"keep talking like that, and you won't be able to walk in the morning."

"i look forward to it."

oscar looked around, his eyes settling on the mirror hanging opposite the bed, right next to the bathroom door. he felt his dick throb as an idea formed in his head, pulling away from the body lying prone on the bed.

"shorts off, all-fours on the bed facing that mirror." he ordered, trying to keep a gentle tone in his voice as he clambered off the bed, stripping out of his sweatpants and boxers, hard member jutting straight out as her touched himself, trying to find some kind of release from the pressure between his legs.

she shivered at the command before making a show of dropping her shorts to show off the cream coloured cotton thong she was wearing, laughing to herself when oscar's eyes rolled back in his skull, a moan escaping his throat.

"god, you're going to be the death of me, sweetheart."

she couldn't deny the excitement in her bones as she settled herself on the bed, arousal literally dripping down her thighs when she looked in the mirror and saw oscar looking at her, mounting the bed behind her before slapping his cock against her ass.

in a more tender, loving action, oscar leaned over her, pressing a kiss to the top of her spine.

"you're so pretty." he whispered, the compliment sinking into her skin like tattoo ink before he sunk into her, gripping her hips and closing his eyes to try and show some restraint as she got used to his size.

it was a sinful picture in that motel room mirror as he began to rut into her, watching her tits shake in the mirror, listening to her sweet whimpers and whines and pleads for more.

"god, yes, oscar! feels so-so fucking good, oh my god."

he met her eyes in the mirror, sweat running down his chest and dripping onto her back as he kept thrusting, the same relentless pace. "you're so good for me, pretty girl. so stunning, so sexy with my cock inside you like this. god, you're prefect. perfectly mine."

he practically growled the last word, knowing damn well that he was ruined for any other woman.

-------

they woke up in a tangled heap of limbs, not knowing where one body ended and the other began, lazily exchanging kisses as the sun rose outside.

"oscar, we have to go to the rehearsal." she whined as he kissed her neck. "if we're late, i'm never going to hear the end of it."

"don't care." oscar hums, running his hands up and down her sides. "i would gladly stay in bed with you all day and order room service so we don't ever have to leave."

"osc." she warned, sitting up in the bed and pulling the duvet over her chest. "we're going to the rehearsal. i'm a bridesmaid, remember?"

fifteen minutes later, oscar was in the bathroom steam-cleaning the wrinkles out of his suit while she tried on the bridesmaid dress, caramel fabric falling over her skin as she stared at herself in the mirror.

the same mirror where, just twelve hours before, she had watched oscar piastri fuck her brains out.

she felt heat on her hips, and didn't even need to look up to realize that it was oscars hands, gently caressing her skin through the satin. he gently kissed her shoulder blades, his hands moving to do up the zipper she couldn't quite reach.

"you look beautiful." he hummed, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "you deserve better than me."

she giggled softly, tugging his arms away from her hips and around her waist, sinking back into his arms. "no i don't. you're exactly what i want, oscar. you're funny and you're sweet and you make me feel like the best version of myself. you're also really great in bed."

oscar laughed, kissing her softly. he would never get tired of feeling her lips against his. "the boyfriend stuff was never an act. and i volunteered to come with you this weekend because i wanted to get to know you off the track. who you are when you aren't serving legal papers to team principals."

"i only did that once. i missed out on the chance to fight with chip ganassi since arrow has a different legal team." she laughed. "i really like you, oscar."

"and i really like you too, y/n. my perfect, beautiful girl."

-------

the wedding came and went, marking the end of y/n and oscar's dream weekend, the reminder that very soon, they would all be going back to their real lives.

that she and oscar would need to figure out where they stood with each other.

but she didn't want to think about that. not while she was dancing with her sister, the pair of them finally getting along as they screeched the words to an old tove lo song.

oscar watched from the table, sitting next to y/n's mother and making polite conversation as his lovesick eyes found her under the disco lights.

"someone is feeling lovesick tonight." mrs. y/l/n hummed. "we heard you two last night. the motel walls aren't as thick as you think."

oscar blanched, coughing on his drink. "you heard all that?"

y/n's mom laughed. "her father had to leave the room and get a coffee before he walked in there and strangled you. y/n is always going to be his little girl. but she's growing up, and i think if she has you in her life, she'll be okay. you're good together."

oscar was about to say something else when a shout rang through the room. "delia is doing the bouquet toss!"

all of the members of each wedding party gathered in the middle of the floor, y/n's sister standing on the dj stand, her white dress brushing against the floor and picking up specs of dust and dirt, as she lifted the bouquet over her head.

y/n mother rested her hand on oscar's forearm, staring at him with a knowing look, hoping her other daughter would be the next to tie the knot.

sure enough, it was almost like fate as the boquet of white roses soared into the air, nailing y/n right in the face and tumbling into her arms as the other bridesmaids cheered. her face was pink and she was trying to hide behind the bouqet as delia came to pull her into a hug.

"i love you, sis. and i'm sorry i didn't know how to show it when we were younger." delia gushed, kissing her baby sister on the forehead before nodding her head at oscar. "you've got a good one. don't let him get away."

"i won't." she laughed, wiping at the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. "i love you, deels."

the song changed, a slow kesha ballad humming through the speakers as the singer crooned about her old flame, and how they couldn't hold a candle to her current love. she turned away from her sister, who had just gone to find her new spouse to dance with, only to see oscar, looking dapper in his black suit and bowtie.

"can i have this dance, my love?"

she smiled, leaving her bouquet with her mother before stepping into oscar's arms, wishing for nothing more than to wrap herself around him like a woolen sweater. she rested her head against his chest, allowing herself to fall into him while they swayed to the music, his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead as dolly parton began to sing the second half of the song.

man, she could really get used to this.

get used to oscar.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @silverstonesainz @lorarri @love4lando @thatsdemko @diorleclerc

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #the cozy collection 2023 #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #oscar piastri x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #Spotify

[kittsch]

ranking cod boys' intimacy style from gentle to rough feat: 141 + los vaqueros + others reader: afab, implied different readers for each cw: explicit smut, kink, fluff, pretty tame imo but lmk if you'd like something tagged NSFW BELOW CUT * MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

1.) the gentlest, surprisingly, is ghost. make no mistake, he'll absolutely fuck the daylights out of you if you ask him to -- would enjoy it, too. but as simon riley... honestly, this man is touch-starved and nearing forty. he is tired, baby. coming home from deployment, first thing simon does is shower (knows you hate the smell of war on him), then take a fat nap with you. if you're in the middle of something, no you're not. he'll literally scoop you up and fireman-carry you to the couch or bed, whichever is closest. simon loves holding you, wants to be touching you all. the. time. his favorite way to nap is wrapped around you like a fitted sheet; skin on skin, nose in your hair as he breathes in the scent of your shampoo. loves it even more when, later, he gets to wake you with soft, open-mouthed kisses on your neck; the flat of his palm sliding down the gentle swell of your tummy, cuping you through your sleep shorts. simon likes you best like this. how you just... melt into him, still sleep-sodden and docile. it's one of the few things that feels right in his life. chemically, cosmically, karmically (somehow--simon doesn't think he'll ever feel like he earned this. you. that he'll ever really deserve to be yours). he takes his time; fucks you slow with his fingers, savoring your muted whimpers as he grinds into your clit with the heel of his hand. to simon, watching you come apart in the firm circle of his arms is kin to a fresco on a ceiling; a sliver of the divine, and he, a sinner, doomed to watch heaven from afar. but by some small miracle, you offer him salvation. when you cum, it's with his name on your lips, so round and lush with love, and fuck--if that isn't the thing to save him, then nothing will.

2.) second is rudy. sweet, sweet boy. he sees you barefoot in a sundress one time. one. that's all it takes to precipitously shift the trajectory of his life to one where he wifes you up and makes you a mother, in that order. you're the first person he's ever envisioned having children with -- the only one he thinks knows will be worth risking everything for. and once that mental picture settles in his mind, it’s all he can think of. it becomes his sole mission to get you under him and fill you with him til it takes. rudy is a missionary guy through and through--wants to see that pretty face, cariño so he can watch your cheeks and chest flush when you're about to cum. and the cute way your lashes flutter ("como alles de pollila, mi amor. fuck--") as he bottoms out in your sweet pussy, stretching you so good. and you're always so good for him -- wrapping your legs around his waist and tilting your hips to take him deeper, deeper. but god help you when he succeeds in knocking you up, you’re never getting a moment alone. consider rudy glued to your side for the foreseeable future. can’t seem to keep his goddamn hands to himself, either. doesn't matter that you’re uncomfortable and prickly and prone to random bouts of inconsolable crying at the worst moments. he takes it all in stride. his love is steady, solid. once, you blurt out something to the effect of i'm never going to be attractive again, my body is gonna be ruined by the end of this. and rudy (after a beat) laughs. pulls you forward til your face is buried in his chest, cradles you there when you try to squirm away. tells you he's literally so attracted to you right now he feels like he should be on some sort of list. he's watching you build a new human being inside your body. you're fucking powerful. he can't imagine anything sexier.

3.) next up is könig. from jump, he adores you; the way you smolder at the edges, the unwavering bite of your tone. kleine katze, such pretty claws you have... and he's perfectly content to settle for admiring you from afar; but where others shy from him instinctually, finding his size and perpetual quiet off-putting, you don't. seem to gravitate towards him because of it. you touch him with a gentleness that should feel foreign, but actually feels like home. this man is fucking gone for you. loves you in a way that irreparably and fundamentally changes him. may or may not have cum more than once to the thought of you: hips bucking desperately into the clench of his own fist. but he knows precisely nichts about romance, even less about flirting. has no idea you've been trying to get his attention for months. ultimately, you have to make the first move. and you do--crawling into his lap one night in a grimy off-grid safehouse after a mission went the wrong kind of sideways. when you draw up the mask he goes rigid, tense; but he almost lost you today. (thought for one endless, horrific moment that he had.) so he lets you pull back the mask--lets you see his face. and when you finally kiss him, it pulls a kind of sound out of him the likes of which he's never made before. a desperate, animal keen that claws at the walls of his chest. and könig's a gentle giant, but he is giant. you're both too hasty the first time; too desperate for closeness to prep properly, so it hurts when he bullies his cock inside you. he's significantly bigger than any of your previous partners -- twice as thick and several inches longer -- and by all rights shouldn't fucking fit inside you, but you're both tenacious enough to make it work. könig is certain salvation resides in the gummy clutch of your cunt when you take him to the hilt; shuddering as you cum around him from nothing but the way his cock stuffs you full and the pressure of his calloused thumb on your clit. it's so unbelievably hot, he cums on the spot; not needing friction or movement when he has you clenching down on him like that, scheiße. after, he takes care of you--holds you close to his chest til your breath evens out and you slip into the dreamless, black pool of sleeping.

4.) alejandro, my love. truly a man of passion. it's a long process seducing you, and he enjoys every minute of it. loves finding new ways to get you to blush almost as much as he enjoys fucking you til you're blubbering and cock-stupid. almost. he likes the idea of having a family with you, but is less pernicious about it than rudy. he knows how he feels about you; is confident it'll happen someday. that said, this man's breeding kink knows no bounds. the mating press was built for him; the perfect mix of intimacy and intensity, where he can look you in the eye as he ruts you so deep you can feel him in your fucking throat. also the most likely to suggest expanding your sexual horizons. frankly, alejandro is bisexual as fuck. loves the idea of you getting railed by another man (perhaps rudy, winkwonk) while he watches; loves the idea of you taking the both of them at once even more, but it's always about you. your comfort and pleasure is paramount, and he'll go to unfathomable lengths to make sure your needs are met. happy wife, happy life, he says, hauling you into a deep kiss when you point out that you're not technically married, yet.

5.) alex is the perfect equilibrium of rough and gentle. initially respects you as a colleague, maybe a friendly acquaintance. internally, he finds your competence and no bullshit attitude deeply attractive, but he's a consummate professional; would never put you into a position where you'd feel unsafe (outside of the obvious dangerous shit you already do). and then--he sees you shoot a gun. the way your body slides liquid-smooth into weaver, the easy roll back into isosceles in the recoil... it gets him so fucking hard so fucking quick. he has to physically remove himself from the range and rub one out in a bathroom stall, images of those firm hands pumping his weeping cock pulling him over the edge. images that don't fade, to his chagrin, even after the initial arousal is dealt with. every time he sees you, it just... pops back up, so to speak. he keeps it locked down as best he can, but fails pretty comprehensively at doing so. alex finally breaks after catching one too many recruits staring after you when you walk away (fuckin' animals--only he's allowed to do that). he seeks you out when you're both off the clock and ends up fucking you on top of one of the washing machines in the base's communal laundry room. the epitome of soft dom, comes pre-programmed with an obligatory daddy kink that you absolutely abuse to get your way. takes you out to nice restaurants seemingly for the express purpose of fucking you in the fancy-schmanzy bathroom. honest-to-god almost passes out when you choke on his cock for the first time; begs like his life is on the line for you to do it again, please, please--oh, fuck baby, yes. that experience reveals two truths to him: one, that he might be a switch, and two, that he might just have to marry you.

6.) now, keegan is a pretty tough nut to crack. it's hard to read him initially, even without the mask--but once you pick up on his tells, he's an open book. and that book wants you upended on the couch within seconds of you both entering the room. initially its just sex; a shared need to vent some frustration and stress. keegan is very private, mostly due to social discomfort and introverted tendencies. in the early days of your relationship, it manifests as him keeping you at a distance. for the first few months, he only ever kisses you when he's balls deep, and leaves after a five-minute come down. you rectify this through sheer persistence and charm. it's clear to you (far sooner than it is to him) that he's weakest to you when you give him big, sweet doe eyes and ask real pretty. this little trick works particularly well when you're riding him slow over the course of an hour, grinding down each time he bottoms out, til he's shuddering and begging you to please go faster--ah. f-fuckin' hell, kid, you're so tight, so good, fuck. when he cums, it's with a crackling whine of your name that pulls the knot of heat in your belly, sending you over after him. then, exhausted and fucked out, he falls asleep with you in his arms. he's still there the next morning when you wake, expression open and lax as he watches you wake. it's the first time you see keegan without reservations, when you realize he's got a gentleness to him--a kind of poet's sensitivity meant for libraries, museum archives, and the kinder side of nature. all overwritten by force to survive, to complete his mission. once you've seen the cracks in his mask, there's no going back for either of you. very quickly, your relationship shifts from distant and transactional to deeply personal; a tenderness blooming in the same garden as the newfound dedication to one another. keegan doesn't say I love you for a long time, but you know he does--you feel it in the way his dark eyes find you in a crowd, always seeking your familiar shape. you feel it in the way he presses your bodies flush from tip to tail while he's fucking you, when being inside of you isn't close enough. you feel it when he, for the very first time, asks you quietly if you'll stay the night with him, because he sleeps easier when you're there. so you stay--the night, and all those that follow.

7.) oh, gaz. such a mischievous little shit. your friend from your training days, you two scrap like puppies over anything and everything. banter is the cornerstone of your relationship, one-upping being a close second. you delight and infuriate one another in equal measure, bickering amongst yourselves til one of you takes a swing at the other. price has reprimanded you both multiple times for horsing around, but you're never in any real danger--you work too well together. there's a kind of shared consciousness between you; a base-level understanding, two wolves hunting in tandem. still, ghost refuses to let either of you sit together on the heli; not since that one time your game of grabass devolved into full-on grappling on the tarmac. ultimately, one of your little tiffs goes too far; ends with you both laid out on a training mat, groaning into each other's mouth as you grind your hips together through your clothes. you both pretend it didn't happen for maybe a week--then it happens again. and again. and again. being 'together' is never something you actually discuss with kyle. it just... happens. much to the chagrin of your lt and captain, the bickering actually increases when you two get together; becomes more like foreplay you can get away with doing in front of your superiors. and if this man isn't an absolute goddamn menace when it comes to exhibitionism. when he wants you, doesn't matter if you're in the middle of a meeting. fuck it--it's happening, and it's happening now. very playful in and out of the bedroom, likes teasing you in every sense of the word. he edges you so long sometimes you nearly kick him in the head when he finally lets you cum. there's my girl--oh shi--ah, haah, good fuckin' girl. he's largely aloof when it comes to his emotions--not the best at verbalizing how he's feeling or what he needs. so instead, he shows you. he shows up every. single. time. kyle's your friend before he's your lover; your partner in (war) crime(s). he's always got your six, you've always got his, and what is love if not someone who'd die (and live) for you?

8.) soap proudly describes himself as a pleasure dom, which is mostly true. but he's got serious switch potential. which you know for a fact because fuckin' hell, does that boy whimper somethin' pretty when you throat him juuuuust right. he's such a 'tits' man, it's crazy. loves to hold you close, feel your breasts smashed against his chest while he drives deep into the tight clutch of your cunt. but most of all, soap loves being on his knees for you. this man definitely moans while he eats you out, tonguing your pussy like it's a mouth. he feels big in every sense of the word--in sex, in love, in anger. and make no mistake, he loves you deeply. you two have some serious yelling matches, storm about slamming doors til the neighbors threaten to call the feds, but it's just your way. you're both headstrong and stupid; arguments are bound to happen, and any unresolved hurt feelings get a solid patch-job from the frankly earth shattering makeup sex that follows. like rudy, soap wants a big family with you, and he knew early. actually doesn't tell you just how early til years down the line. how after your first official date, he called his ma and asked if she'd send his nan's ring, please? because he's pretty sure he just met his future wife. said ring which glitters on your hand now, as you reach over and flick his forehead teasingly. tell him he can stop trying to romance you, you're already married. and could he grab more diapers on his way home from work?

9.) as are all things with graves, your sexual relationship is about power. he's an asshole in the worst way--condescending, smug, underhanded, sneaky in his sexism so you always look like some hysterical woman when you retaliate. the kicker? it turns you on as much as it pisses you off. he's happy to string you along, work you into a lather just to leave you high and dry. lord help you once he gets a taste of you--bending you over his desk and cramming you full of his cock with precisely zero prep. he kisses you, loves you, fucks you like he hates you. because he kind of does--he just wants you more. graves loves it when you cry, wipes your tears with his thumb before forcing it into your mouth. coos when you offer your neck up to him--yeah? want my hands on ya that bad, sugar? gonna be a good girl for me, hm? fuck yeah you are--and proceeds to make you cum so hard you black out. your 'relationship' (which it is; ring on your finger a year in, a little one on your hip not long after) is intense. toxic. would be just downright miserable if it wasn't so fucking hot. you cling to each other with gouging force; a livid-blue kind of love, painful and permanent. he carries a picture of you in his wallet: a small polaroid of you in your wedding dress, ashing a cigarette with one hand while the other flips the cameraman (him) the bird.

10.) and the roughest of them all: price wants more than to love or fuck you -- he wants to possess you. he's so tightly controlled everywhere else in his life (has to be for his work), doesn't seem the type to lose his head over a bird. but when he meets you, something shifts. you're soft. impossibly good. flippant and stubborn as a mule, sure -- you drive him up the fuckin' wall with your headstrong antics. (so goddamn petulant. so sure you're fuckin' right.) but war and death hasn't stained your world, left your indomitable spirit unsullied and intact. which, unfortunately, means you haven't gotten a thorough education on the importance of discipline. price wants to consume your disobedience; crack your rose-tinted glasses under his heel, roll the ambrosia of you in his cupped tongue. he'll do more than make you fall in line -- he'll make you want to do it. it's really just a matter of time before he acts on it. when he does, it's decisive. unsubtle. he crowds you up against the door of your flat on a sticky summer night, brandy on your breath. sinks a hand into your hair, holds you steady as he brings your mouths together with bruising intensity. he fucks you before he ever makes love to you; sinks his teeth into the velvet of your shoulder as he crushes you flat to the tabletop using just his bodyweight. snarls low when you keen wordlessly, overwhelmed and empty-headed at the deep burn-sting of his cock stretching your pretty little cunt, the lewd slap of his thighs against your ass. he batters you til you're not sure what's sweat and what's tears; til your skin bears a mural to his cacoethes, all blue and purple like a deep west sunrise. til there's not a person alive who won't be able to see you're his. always have been, always will, right dove? go on--tell him. tell him who this pussy belongs to.

written by kittsch, do not repost. not to be used for bots nor AI of any kind.

#call of duty #cod #ghost smut #john price smut #call of duty smut #cod smut #john price #john soap mactavish #simon riley #gaz x reader #gaz smut #kyle gaz garrick #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #gaz x you #gaz x y/n #afab reader #john price x reader #john price x you #john price cod #captain john price #task force 141 #141 x reader #141 x you #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x you #los vaqueros #alejandro vargas

[fbfh]

Tristin Dugray relationship and intimacy hcs

wc: 1.1k

pairing: tristin x afab reader

genre: smut smut feelings smut

warnings: dumbfucking, tristin is a cocky bastard and a slut and a whore (all affectionate), pussydrunk tristin, brief mentions of exhibitionism and tristin having bull energy, hickeys, cute jealousy, tristin is an attention whore (affectionate), other girls are jelly of you bc tristin likes you that fuckin much, tristin has a vaguely bad homelife, use of mary as a pet name

song recs: mary - alex g, break my heart - spectacular cast

a/n: this boy.... has consumed way more of my brain space than I anticipated??? he grabbed me by the fucking throat lol

tags @yesv01 @magcon7280

As with all nsfw works all characters are aged up to 18+

That being said HOLY SHIT LETS GET INTO IT

Tristin Dugray is one horny motherfucker

Like really seriously horny

Stage 5 thirsty for you specifically 

Like I said in that one drabble he’s a cocky attention whore until a certain point

Then he just gets completely stupid

His goal is to fuck both of you absolutely dumb, and he’s really good at it 

Even when he has you both completely stupid, he’s still gonna keep going 

Like until he collapses on top of you 

But before he gets so pussydrunk that all he can do is pant and grunt and whine in your ear

He absolutely talks you through it

God this boy just can’t shut up can he

So he’ll guide you and tease you and coax more and more out of you

He’ll call you mary and babble out praise

And he’ll soak up every expression you make

Every noise you let out

GOD just looking at you??? It takes so much energy not to cum on the spot

Tristin already knows that no one can fuck you like he can

But he’s even more willing to prove it for you

Not gonna lie, he has major bull energy

Tristin can sweep you off your feet and charm you away from anyone else vying for your attention

Then he can push his fat cock snugly inside you and make you squirt and shower you with attention

He ruins you for anyone else by giving you ultimate princess treatment

God the duality of this man

Speaking of his fat cock, he’s hung like a goddamn horse

Like he’s already so fucking perfect

He’s hot as fuck, loaded, actually has a personality, he likes you that much, he’s loyal

And he’s packing??????

It’s almost unfair

But yeah Tristin is the whole package (pun intended)

He can do whatever he wants. Literally anything.

Because he’s this hot, you’re going to have to be prepared for a lot of jealousy from the plethora of girls who have a crush on him

Which is almost all of them

Girls get so fucking pissed when you have bruises and hickeys and can’t walk

Like seriously

It’s impossible to be friends with any girls that know Tristin because boy keeps you marked up

And they don’t like that

He’s so tantalizingly close to them but agonizingly out of reach

They hate it even more when he smells like you and has your love bites all over him

He proudly shows that shit off

Along with all the scratches you leave on his back

And an occasional pair of panties left in his pocket

Nothing makes him happier than having your scent and marks and presence all over him

Once he finds out about bra strap bracelets????? You make him one and he will never take that shit off

Gets pouty when his hickeys fade and asks you for more

He pulls you into his lap and bites your ear playfully

“Well Mary, your friends need to know that I’m taken, don’t they?”

“It’s not my friends that I’m worried about…”

He pauses kissing your neck to look up at you with a cocky gaze just full of victory as your words sink in

“You are jealous…”

GOD HE LOVES WHEN YOU GET JEALOUS AND POSSESSIVE OVER HIM

ACTUALLY MAKES HIM MOTHERFUCKING FERAL

It has this energy

Oh my god oh my god and watching his hair grow back out from his military school buzzcut???

When it’s finally long enough to tug and flop over and tickle your face and neck while he fucks you?????

And brush all softly against your thighs when he goes down on you???????

Best era tbh

And Tristin really does love going down on you a lot

He has some almost pleasure dom tendencies???

Someone hose this boy down

Just fucking neuter him at this point

Seriously once he gets a taste of you, it’s game over

Tristin is easily the biggest fucking slut you’ve ever met

But he’s only a slut for you

Literally

All he wants is you

So when he has you, he’s going all out

All the way

Hitting all the spots (literally and figuratively)

Don’t let him find out about your g spot

He already abuses your clit enough as it is

Just cause he loves the face you make when you orgasm

He gets kind of obsessed with making you cum

Seriously he will sneak off with you for quickies and hand stuff in some really risky places

He doesn’t even care about getting caught at this point

He just loves seeing how nervous and turned on it makes you

And he loves having something to tease you about

Seriously this man will whore himself out to you at a moments notice

He’s so fucking touch starved that it’s really nice to have something long term and serious with you like this

It’s all he’s wanted for a really long time

Even with Summer, he tried everything he could to make it work

I think it’s safe to assume he has a similar homelife to Paris

Specifically from the quote regarding Paris’s baggage when Tristin said “yeah, [I have] a matching set”

You’re not being too subtle there babe

So with all the inconsistencies and instability he’s dealt with through the years

You really are a breath of fresh air

Tristin wants to be committed

He wants someone that he can give all of himself to

When he met you there was a terrifying moment where he felt his priorities shift

He knew that if his options were a safe choice or you, he’d choose you hands down

But now he gets both

He gets that consistency and devotion and commitment 

And he gets it with you

So you better believe he is not fucking this up

He is going to put everything he has into this

Because he knows how you deserve to be treated

And he knows he can’t lose you

Which means he just has to be the kind of man that you deserve

One of the most beautiful parts of dating Tristin is getting to grow together and watch him really blossom alongside you

You are the catalyst

You are what made him into who he is today

And he wouldn’t want this with anyone else but you

#tristin dugray #tristin dugray x reader #tristin dugray smut #gilmore girls #gilmore girls smut #gilmore girls x reader #tristan dugray smut #tristan dugray #tristan dugray x reader #motherfucker #the brain rot i've had for this bitch???? unfathomable

[fettuccin-e]

Strictly Stress Relief

Kinktober Day 21: Hate Sex

Tags: Javier Peña x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls oh pls wrap it irl i'm begging), pulling out method lol, hate fucking, semi-public sex (in a supply closet), slight amounts of pining because i am weak for romance (w/c: 1K)

A/N: Back to Javi because this man is a bastard but damn it I'd really like to bang him like a screen door in a hurricane,, anyway I also couldn't help myself from sliding in a little bit of yearning because I need the romance okay?? (For Kinktober I have been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings!)

Javier doesn’t really know when it started, how it started. 

He knows that you just get to him, in ways that he’s never felt before. You dig under his skin with smarmy comments under your breath, going behind his back with intel and planning raids without him involved.

“You’re reckless, Javier,” you say to him as an excuse, even as he looms over you, his jaw clenched with unshed rage. “It’s going to get you, or worse, somebody else, killed.” You're always so cool and collected, like you hadn't just stolen his fucking win.

He knows he drives you crazy with his methods of collecting intel, the girls that he brings in for questioning. He knows that you hate when he breaks protocol, and that you hate it even more when it works.

He knows that when you both used to butt heads, small arguments turning into full screaming matches at the office, he’d go home and drink half a bottle of whiskey, call one of the girls that always lets him treat her exactly how he wants. He’d fuck her rough, violent, working out every single bit of anger you’d stirred up in him that day. Usually, it was enough anger that it left the poor girl with bruises on her hips and a hefty tip in her bag.

What he doesn’t know is how he deviated from that habit, how he’s got you here, right now, pressed up against him in a supply closet of all places. He doesn’t know how he came into this new addiction, turning your arguments into excuses to fuck you anywhere, anytime.

He’s not sure you know how this happened either, but God, the way it feels inside of you makes him not want to fucking worry about it anymore. Your nails dig into his shoulders, a bite of pain that makes everything so much sweeter as he fucks you into the door of the closet.

You’re both making too much noise, but fuck, it doesn’t matter when you whine into his mouth, biting into his bottom lip.

“Fuck, Javi, harder, you have to fuck me harder,” you gasp, one of your legs hitched onto his hip to get him even deeper. The sticky wetness of your cunt is sticking to the wiry hairs at the base of his dick every time he pushes in deep.

“If I fuck you any harder, we’ll break down the goddamn door,” he grunts, but he grabs your hips anyway, pulling you into every one of his thrusts and grinning when you keen, your head tilting back to lean into the door. “Fucking needy, hermosa,” he grins, and you sneer at him.

“If you could fuck me better, maybe I wouldn’t be so needy,” you snarl, moving your hips forward to keep meeting him every time he drives forward.

“You say that I’m not fucking you like you need, baby,” he says, leaning close enough that his lips nearly brush yours. “But the way this pretty pussy is dripping down my cock tells a different story.”

He angles his hips just a little different, pounding up into your cunt, and he knows when he’s found it. That little spot inside that makes your eyes roll back, makes you clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle the way you scream. He slams up into that perfect little spot, over and over and over, relishing in the way you clench around him every time he reaches it.

“Fuck, baby,” he grunts, sweat beading on his forehead, his curls sticking to his skin. “So pretty like this, taking my cock so well. If I knew that this is what I needed to do to shut that smart mouth up, I would’ve been fucking this sweet pussy for months now.” 

You gasp around a response, unable to form words as Javier breaks you apart, his cock jamming into parts of you that you can’t even reach on your own. He fucks you like he fights with you; rough, primal, reckless. Strangled groans rip their way from his chest, and fuck, he can feel his orgasm creeping up, threatening to blow him to pieces right then and there.

You have to cum first. He has to make sure you cum first.

He reaches a hand between you both to rub maddening, tight circles into your clit, and God, the way you whine, high in the back of your throat, will haunt his fucking dreams tonight.

You’re goddamn beautiful when you cum, an angel in real time, though Javier will never admit that out loud. This is strictly stress relief. Mind-boggling, life-altering stress relief. 

Javier pulls out of you when you shake through the aftershocks of your orgasm, furiously jacking his cock in his hand and gasping at the way you look up at him, all doe-eyed and goddamn beautiful. You moan softly when he splatters his cum all over the outside of your pussy, letting it drip down your skin. It fuels something deep inside him, fills him with a sense of ownership that he should not be fucking feeling.

When you both finally catch your breaths, you pick your skirt up off the ground, yanking it up and over your hips. Javier ignores the fact that you don’t wipe yourself off, that you didn’t tug your panties back on. He absolutely does not think about the fact that his cum will be dripping down your thighs throughout your ride home tonight.

“You should-” you breathe, glancing up at him. “You should follow that intel we got today. You questioned that girl in the first place, it should be your win.” There’s something in the way you say “questioned” that makes his heart beat hard in his chest. It sounds bitter, jealous even.

You break from his gaze, not offering anything more than that as you tug on your heels. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Javier,” you mutter, and you slip out of the closet without another word.

#do i want to smack him or fuck him #the correct answer is both #javier pena x you #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier peña x female reader #javier pena fanfiction #narcos smut #narcos fanfiction

[clementine-thedestroyer]

Sometimes, I wish I was as important as your email inbox - John Price x reader

Warnings/tags: Hurt comfort, could be considered angst. Miscommunication(?) established relationship, fem!reader. This was supposed to be pwp... then it turned in to this unholy abomination of hurt comfort because I have daddy issues and can’t fucking do this.

In which, Price has been a bit extra busy with work, and reader feels a bit… alone.

You open the door and step out of the bathroom, tugging your towel tighter around yourself as the steamy warmth from your shower mixes with the relatively cold air of the bedroom.

Price is sitting on your bed, leaning against the headboard with his legs stretched out and phone in hand as he scrolls through the device- likely for something work related. When he sees you step out of the bathroom, his eyes flit towards you and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. 

You hadn’t expected him to be home yet. For the past week, he’d been leaving early and getting back late. Usually, he left early enough that it was still dark outside, and that the only goodbye you’d get was a gentle nudge to wake you up and a kiss on the forehead- followed by a goodbye and a reassurance he’d be back before you knew it. You knew he had to go, it was some week-long training he was helping to administer- but that didn’t help to soothe the loneliness that came with an empty house and waking up to a cold spot where your husband usually lay. 

Most of the time, it was dark again by the time he got back. And he was too exhausted to do much more than shower, collapse into bed next to you, and mumble a few “love you’s” before tugging you against his chest and using you as a body pillow for the night.

Tonight though, he was home earlier than usual.

Not by much- it was still late, and had you been given another thirty minutes, you’d probably have been curled up in bed and- judging by how exhausted you felt- probably completely passed out. And of course- though he may be home earlier than expected… he wasn’t really free. The texts, emails, and paperwork were what most commonly followed him home from work- and it was stupid to be jealous of paperwork or goddamn Gmail. You knew that. You told yourself that constantly. You also constantly reminded yourself that you chose this, you knew what you were getting into with this man. But that didn’t help how starved you’d become for his touch and affection. And it certainly didn't help the nights where you would fall asleep next to your Price, yet feel more alone than ever- because there was something heartbreaking about falling asleep feeling cold, lonely, and unwanted, with the man you loved right next to you- but too busy with what felt like constant work.

Although… As much as you hated those nights, it was still better than when Price would come back with new injuries and guilt weighing heavy on his shoulder.

Today had been a bit of a rough day for you. Tiering, to say the least… especially now, as you realized tonight was shaping up to be one of the ones that hurt the most. And despite the guilt you felt at not even attempting conversation with Price after nearly a week of only goodbyes and goodnights, you really wanted nothing more than to put on your comfiest pajamas and curl up for sleep. 

You missed him dearly, but you were too emotionally and mentally drained to figure out what to do about it. Frankly, this was the only thing your exhausted self could think to do: go to sleep and hope that the rest of this (particularly) dreadful week passes quickly.

As exhausted as you may be… you also know that Price is probably about to stand up to take a shower of his own now that you’re out, and that by the time he’s done, you’ll probably be asleep- so you stifle a yawn and pad over to Price.

Once at Price’s side of the bed, you lean over to press a kiss to his forehead- a hand held over your chest to keep your towel from falling down when you do so. “Goodnight.” You mumble, stumbling a bit when you get a head rush as you try to stand back up.

When you start to sway, Price frowns and reaches out, placing a steadying hand on your upper hip. “You alright’, Love?” He asks, forehead knitted in worry.

You nod, ducking your head a bit and pressing a hand against your temple as you wait for the momentary dizziness to pass. “I’m fine, just stood up too fast.” You murmur, silent for a moment as you take a deep breath and start to straighten up.

From where you stand, you can see that Price’s phone is, in fact, open to his email inbox- and you can’t help the frown that accompanies the pang of dejection that shoots through your chest.

“You sure?” Price asks, his concern seemingly only growing as he speaks. “You look a bit off-color.”

You nod your head “yes”, trying your best to simply put Price’s worries to rest. You do know that you should talk to him, that you should take this opportunity to tell him how you feel, that you should stop this spiral you're in. But… you’re tired. Tired physically, tired mentally, tired emotionally- You’re just fucking tired, and everything feels like it’s all going shit. 

The hand on your hip moves upwards, and a strong arm wraps around your waist and gently tugs you down. You land with a bit of a bounce onto Price’s lap- his arm around your waist bracing you and keeping you upright as his other one comes up to press the back of his hand against your forehead.

“Bloody hell, you’re burning up.” Price says, the worry lines on his forehead deepening as he quickly drops his phone. “You sure you’re feeling alright?” He asks again, clearly not believing your early assertion of “fine”.

“‘Not sick, just took a hot shower.” You mumble, leaning into his hand where it still rests on your forehead- letting out a deep breath at the touch and letting your heavy eyes drift shut.

Price is clearly unconvinced- looking just as worried as before as he moves one hand to your upper back and the other to the nape of your neck- pulling you close and lifting your hair out of his way so he can check once again for a temperature.

The hand against your forehead must've broken something in you, because from that moment on you feel like a damn had burst. Like all the effort you’d been putting into hiding how bad you’ve needed this is violently swept away and forgotten. Even when you loop your arms around his neck and pull yourself against him, you’re not close enough. No matter how much of you is touching him, you need more. No matter how much you press your face into his chest or the crook of his neck, you can still see the lights from the bedside lamp, smell the soap you used in the shower, and hear the neighbor's dog barking at god knows what. And that’s wrong- because all you want in this moment is Price. You want to be held impossibly close to him, you want your everything to be only him, just for a moment.

You don’t hear what he says, but you feel him take you by the shoulders and gently to get you to look up at him.

In response, you only whine and squeeze him tighter, pressing your face deeper into his neck and shaking your head no. 

He gets the hint- a deep sigh leaving his body as you feel him relaxing beneath you. You feel him press a kiss to the top of your head and you feel two large, warm, calloused hands slip under your thighs and lift- moving you so you’re straddling his thighs.

“Comfortable, Love?” He asks- to which you nod, goosebumps rising along your body as the air from the fan, even on its lowest setting, feels frigid against your still slightly damp skin- your towel from a moment ago having fallen as Price moved you. A hand runs along your arm, warming the skin slightly as you feel Price shift underneath you in preparation to stand up. 

“Do you want me to get you some clothes?” He asks- to which you, again, shake your head in response. This time, side to side as a “no”.

Price chuckles, the vibrations of his laugh traveling between you as he sets a hand on his nightstand, using it to support himself as lifts you two and yanks the covers out from where he had been sitting on them- settling back down and pulling them up to cover the two of you.

The comforter on you two’s bed is big and fluffy- perfect at trapping body heat and warming you up quickly. It’s probably your favorite blanket in the whole house, and you’ve been known to drag it out of the bed and curl up with it on the couch whenever you’re sick or it’s cold enough outside that the heater can’t keep up. Being wrapped in it is enough for you to- gradually- begin to loosen your hold on Price. Eventually, you’re not so much clinging to him as much as you’re simply draped over him.

But even when you release your death grip, Price doesn't try to get you up. He lets you stay, keeping you pressed close against his chest and your head resting on his shoulder. He keeps one hand under the blanket, resting on your lower back- occasionally stroking at the soft skin with the pad of his thumb or idly tracing the dips and rises of your body as you drifted in and out of sleep. In his other hand, he held his phone. Likely going through emails or doing something or other work related. 

You drifted between varying levels of sleep and awakeness as he held you. Whenever your head would start to slip from where he’d propped it up against his shoulder, he’d pause from his work to gently set it back and make sure you were doing okay. He’d often press sweet, loving kisses to the top of your head, cheek, or temple, or give gentle, protective squeezes to your waist whenever he felt you stir awake, and he’d speak soothingly and stroke your hair whenever you started mumbling half-asleep words to yourself or him. 

At one point, you started drifting deeper and deeper to sleep- waking up less and having fewer moments of half-awake confusion after being moved or repositioned- only to later wake up flat on your back - now dressed in some pajamas- and with Price slowly pulling away from you.

You jerk awake, gasping for breath as you immediately latch onto the part of Price that’s closest to you- which turns out to be an arm. You immediately find him back at your side, tears running down your face as you beg for him to stay.

You have his right arm in a white-knuckled grip, and his other one is behind your back, holding you up as he looks down at you- the most worried you’ve ever seen him. 

“Shh, you’re okay- I’m right here.” Price says, his look of concern only worsening as you let go of his arm in favor of clinging to his torso.

“D-Don’t go!” You sob, the burst of adrenaline from waking up and thinking he was leaving flushing through your body and leaving you shaky and with a pounding heart.

“I’m not going to leave, Love.” he reassures you, one of his hands petting your head, his beard scratching at your cheek as he holds you close in an attempt to comfort you. “But you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

You don’t respond, hiding your face against him.

He pulls away, cupping your cheek gently and making you look at him. “Sweetheart, I’m worried. You wouldn’t talk at all once you got in my lap, and you freaked out when I tried to set you down. I need you to talk to me.”

You pull your face away, going back to hiding against his chest… but eventually nod.

Price is silent for a moment- thinking before he speaks again

“Did someone hurt you?”

A quick shake of your head “no” and a heavy sigh of relief from Price.

“Is it something that happened at work?”

Another shake of your head “no”.

“Is it something that I did?”

You hesitate… 

Your lack of answer tells Price enough, and a kiss is pressed to the top of your head. Had you moved your face from where you were hiding it, you would have seen not only the look of absolute love he was looking down at you with, but the thinly veiled guilt he held as he watched the way you clung to him.

“I figured, love.”

You hiccup, choking on your own tears as you do and starting to cough. Price rubs soothing circles into your back as you try to catch your breath.

“I know, I know. This training thing is hard, and I should've done better at making sure my girl was okay. I’m sorry, love.”

“Y-you don’t have anything to be sorry f-”

Price cuts you off with a stern look. 

“None of that, now. I should’ve made more of an effort to be there for you.” He pauses, kissing you sweetly before continuing. “I love you so, so much, and I’m so sorry I let you forget that and that I let things get to this point, okay?”

“I love you too- “ You say softly, sniffling and trying to wipe away some of your tears- only for Price to come in with a tissue and gently start to blot at your red and blotchy face.

“I’m sorry for not talking to you about it…” You mumble, your face heating up as you try to take the tissue from Price to dry your own face, but failing to do anything more than get him to laugh a bit and start teasing you by keeping the tissue away.

“Tomorrow is the last day of the training, I’m going to take the day after off, and we’re going to do something, okay?” He says, laughing softly before letting you have the tissue and kissing you on the cheek.

Price’s hand finds yours, and he laces you two’s fingers together before pulling your still interlocked hands up and pressing a kiss to the back of yours. 

“And I’m not just sorry about this week, I’m sorry about recently in general. I’m going to be better about making sure I make time and showing you how much I care for you, okay?”

You nod, giving one final wipe to your face before you started squirming in his hold in an attempt to sit up a bit more.

“I’m going to be better too- I’m not going to bottle things up… and I’m going to try harder to tell you when I’m feeling like something’s wrong instead of letting it get like this…”

Pride tugs Price’s smile wider, and he brushes a strand of hair out of your face- tucking it behind your ear before pressing yet another kiss to your face.

“Thank you, Sweetheart. I’m glad.”

You smile, feeling like a weight has been lifted after your cry and conversation with Price. You wrap your arms around his waist, squeezing him as tight as you possibly can in an attempt to convey how thankful you are. Of his patience, of his kindness, of him.

“I love you,” You say into his chest as you squeeze him

He lets out a soft “oof” at your squeeze, huffing in amusement before wrapping his own arms around you and giving you a (far from full strength) squeeze of his own.

“I love you too.”

#john price x reader #john price x you #price x reader #cod price #captain john price #john price #captain price #price mw2 #john price x f!reader #john price x y/n #captain john price x reader #captain johnathan price #john price x female reader #hurt/comfort #fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending #misunderstanding #cod mw fanfiction #john price fanfiction #john price fluff #john price fic #cod modern warfare

[havecourage-darling]

Employee of the Month // Eddie Munson

Prompt: enemies-to-lovers, “the employee of the month gets a free dinner to a fancy restaurant and you both fight to win it until it goes too far and oh shit, I think I love you but everything is falling apart.”

wc: 24K (don't even ask)

tags: miscommunication, cursing, misunderstandings, idiots in love being idiots in love, female reader

Masterlist

YOU groaned the second you walked into the store and heard the sounds of Nightmare on Elm Street playing on the television. “Isn’t it my turn to pick the movie?” You asked, walking past the counter and into the back. Precariously balancing your coffee and breakfast sandwich on the ledge of the lockers, you started pulling your jacket off.

“Well, if you arrived on time, your Grace, you’d have been able to,” Eddie’s grating voice filtered in through the swinging door.

Gritting your teeth, you closed your eyes and counted to ten. It’s illegal to murder. You’d go to jail. Your mother would cry if you went to trial. His body would be too heavy to drag into a ditch. The blood would stain your favorite shoes. Dustin would never forgive you. You hadn’t helped stitch his body back together only to turn around and kill him now.

“I am on time, shithead, you’re just always early,” you hissed.

“It’s been literal seconds and you two are already fighting?” Robin groaned from where she had her face buried into her elbow at the counter. You shrugged on your vest, put your backpack into the locker and slammed it shut.

“He started it,” you said defensively.

Eddie turned, hair flipping like he was some goddamn heroine in a movie, and shot you an incredulous look. “Did you not just come in, metaphorical guns blazing?”

“It’s my turn to pick the movie!” You insisted. And it was. You always picked the movie on Mondays. Always.

His brows furrowed, as if confused by your genuine anger. “Then pick the movie! The TV has an eject button or did you need me to help you learn how to use it?”

A small ember lit in your chest like it always did when you were around his infuriating presence. “Need I remind you that I’ve worked here longer than you have, Munson?” You huffed, grabbing an armful of the returns without looking and walking around the store. “Some of us graduated the first time around.”

Eddie snorted, the barb falling short. “You’ll need to find a new insult, Lightning.”

The condescending tone rung throughout the air. “Do not call me that,” you hissed, whipping your head around to glare at him.

He held up his hands and didn’t even try to hide his smirk. “I didn’t give you the nickname Superstar.”

You hated it when he called you that. It always sounded so patronizing. “Have I ever told you how much I hate you?” You grumbled, making sure to clip his shoulder with your own as you passed him.

“On a daily basis,” he retorted, whirling his arms in the air to keep his balance.

Steve sighed as he walked in and saw you both glaring at each other. “It’s been less than an hour, how are you both already arguing?”

“He started it,” you grumbled again, turning around and started to shelve the returns.

“He started it,” Eddie mimicked, yelping when Robin smacked him. You started in the far back left-hand corner and did what you always did when you were on shift with Eddie – you ignored him.

A half hour into shelving, and only midway through your coffee, you heard Steve groan loudly. Robin’s head popped out from the aisle behind you and she sighed. “Keith incoming,” she alerted you all, everyone rolling their eyes. “Oh shit, he’s coming with a suit.”

“What?” You asked, hurrying around the corner to join her. Catching sight of the senior supervisor, one of the execs in suits who show up once a few months – if that – you frowned. “You think we’re being shut down?”

“I hope not, this place is a shithole but it’s a paycheck,” Eddie grumbled, starting up the computer and pretending to look busy.

“Good morning, everyone,” Keith said, uncharacteristically polite as the entrance door swung open.

Hiding a laugh behind a cough, Robin and you nodded. Keith looked like a small child who’d gotten dressed in his parent’s working clothes.

“We’ll be in my office,” Keith said through his teeth, shooting you all a look as the suit disappeared through the door.

Robin turned to you instantly. “Oh shit, do you think we’re actually getting closed down?”

“Honestly, at this point, that job down at the grocery store is looking more appealing,” you sighed.

Steve, on the other hand, sputtered. “I don’t! This might be a shit job but I still need the money,” he huffed. “Driving you people around is expensive.”

Robin rolled her eyes and you shot him a look. “I drive the other half of your kids, so don’t even look at me.”

“They’re not my kids!”

“Well, they became mine through you so, what’s that say?” You asked, joining him behind the counter.

“That you and Robin wouldn’t leave well enough alone at the mall,” Steve huffed.

Robin whipped her head around. “If it wasn’t for us, you and Henderson wouldn’t have cracked the code!”

“I took a punch for you,” you said, elbowing him.

Steve shook his head but you saw the smile building. Much like Robin’s entrance into the party, you’d been hired at Scoops Ahoy when Starcourt opened as a part-time employee. Also, like Robin, you’d been hesitant to trust the self-proclaimed reformed Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. You’d known Robin, your next-door neighbor, for years. Despite the suspicion, you’d become pretty close friends. There was something about surviving a near apocalypse that bonded you all together. Especially considering his band of kids had welcomed you in with open arms.

“Demobats ate chunks of my skin off, you aren’t special,” said Eddie, tone – once again – grating on your skull.

Grinding your teeth, you ignored Steve’s pointed look and did what you did second best – shot him a withering glare and pretended he didn’t exist.

Unfortunately, your newfound friendships had led you back to Eddie Munson a few months ago. Despite fighting off those demented demobats with him in the Upside Down, and the way your heart had dropped to your feet when you fought to save his life, your distrust for him had only deepened.

“You both have to get over it eventually,” Steve grumbled under his breath. You reached out, quickly, and pinched his bicep. He yelped, brown eyes widening pitifully, and you glared at him.

Eddie and you hadn’t always had this…animosity. Steve had managed to break you down eventually, pulling the reason why from you after a summer party when you’d gotten plastered.

You had never thought of yourself as a spiteful person, but some things weren’t easy to get over. And what Eddie Munson had done to you was one of them. The worst part, was him acting like it had been your fault. That dumb, big-eyed, stupid son of a –

“Nice to see you all,” the suit said, coming out Keith’s office suddenly. You all mumbled incoherently, straightening when Keith glared, and watched as they walked out.

Not five minutes later, Keith sauntered back in with a smug look on his face. “Apparently, we’re the best performing Family Video in all of North Indiana.”

“Cool,” Eddie said, the nerd actually looked interested. You’d already known the store was doing better – considering Family Video was the only video store around for miles after the earthquake. The three of you had struggled enough to warrant bringing Munson into the mix.

“What does that mean?” Robin asked, always voicing the question on everyone’s mind.

Keith snorted. “That means, ducklings, we get to reap some perks.”

“Perks?” Steve asked, eyes brightening. Keith ignored him and turned to the rest of you.

“For starters, the suits are instating a best employee of the month,” he said, “excluding me of course because it wouldn’t be fair otherwise.”

You coughed, putting a hand up to your chest to really sell it, and attempted to hide your laughter within the sound.

“And what do we get if we win?” Eddie asked.

Would Family Video shell anything out? You wondered. They barely managed to replace your vest for free after you’d shredded it to shit from your adventures during spring break.

Keith leaned in, failing spectacularly at building tension, and smiled. You only just barely refrained from flinching back at the sight. “Get this, the first employee of the month gets a free dinner to Osteria da Fortuna. I get a free dinner obviously, because I’m the senior manager…”

His voice trailed off in your mind, your eyes widening and back straightened. Osteria? The fancy ass Italian restaurant downtown? Holy shit, you’d been dying to go there ever since Heather went with her boyfriend and told you about the desserts. She’d said it was the best tiramisu she’d ever tasted in her life.

By the time you’d snapped out of your daydream buffet, Keith had gone into his office again.

“Oh my God, I need that dinner. It’s the only thing that’ll help recover this month – shit, this year,” you said to Robin, her eyes softening. She’d been well aware of how shitty your life had been of late. “I’ve always wanted to go there!”

“Uh, everyone wants to go there, sweetheart,” Eddie said, his voice patronizing, “it’s the best restaurant for miles.”

You glared at him but he did what he did best, continue to annoy you.

“Besides, we’ve all had a shitty year.” He flipped his stupid hair again and you clenched your hands. Why did he always have to twist your words around? You hadn’t meant that yours had been worse than anyone else’s. You were well aware of how shit of a spring break ’86 had been for a lot of you.

“How no one has ever choked you is a mystery to me,” you said, matter of fact. A brief image of your hands around his neck made you smirk.

Eddie turned to glance at you over his shoulder. “I won’t say no if you’re offering Princess,” he winked.

Your heart slammed against your ribcage. Ignoring his jab, and the sudden rage in your chest, you walked into the breakroom to grab your cold breakfast sandwich. Heating it up in the tiny microwave you grabbed your bottle of water before stalking out again.

Keith leaned against the counter, reprimanding Steve about something, and his nose twitched. Eyes drawing towards you, they narrowed and you felt nervous. Shit. Keith had never cared when you ate and worked but you definitely didn’t want to piss him off as you started the race towards that dinner.

“Holy shit I haven’t eaten since last night I’m starving,” Keith said instead of admonishing you.

The idea popped in your head and before you could think twice, you offered Keith the wrapped breakfast sandwich. “Do you want it? I’m not that hungry,” you said, begging your growling stomach to stay quiet for a while.

You saw the appreciative glint in Keith’s eyes when he took his first bite – and by the scowl on Eddie’s face, he had too.

“Thanks Lightning, you’re a lifesaver,” he said, “you always were my favorite. I’ll be back later losers.”

With a flurry, Keith was out the door and the only noise for a few moments was Freddy Kreuger killing Glen. Then, your stomach roared to life.

“Not hungry?” Eddie echoed flatly.

Robin, however, stepped in before you could start another fight. “Well played you, well played,” she said, offering you a high five.

“If I give you my entire paycheck, will you take me with you when you win?” Steve asked, eyes pleading. It didn’t take a genius to know there was no way Keith was choosing Steve.

“As if,” Robin snorted, “she’s taking me.”

You watched them bicker amicably, laughing when Steve gaped at Robin after a low blow and barely registered Eddie next to you.

“I’m gonna win the dinner,” he said, nonchalantly.

Eyes darting up to his, ignoring his cologne wafting over to you, you glared at him. “Whatever, Munson.” Jesus, is that all you could come up with? What the fuck was in that cologne?

Eddie, however, just smiled. “Let the games begin.”

Where the hell was everyone? You mused, walking into an open, but empty, store. Considering the schedule posted yesterday – Eddie, Robin, and you were set to open today.

Spinning your keys on your finger, you walked back into the locker room and tossed your stuff inside. Pulling your vest out, you shrugged it on and went to fill up your water. Once you were by the cooler you realized the back door was propped open.

What the?

You quietly stepped forward, eyes darting around looking for who was out there when you heard Keith’s voice.

“Dude, are you sure?” Keith asked, voice tinged with excitement.

Eddie’s soft voice filtered in through the crack. “Absolutely. I had extras and you know we’re cool right? I thought – why not ask Keith if he wants to take them off my hands.” Narrowing your eyes, you crossed your arms. You knew that tone – that was Eddie’s ‘I’m a bad liar but no one can tell,’ tone.

Keith stepped into view and you watched him take the Ziploc bag from Eddie’s hand. You bit your cheek to keep from cursing.

Joints.

Of course Eddie was going to start sucking up too. Because there’s no way he couldn’t let you have this – why would he? He’s been a pain in your ass from the start. What the hell could you give Keith that one upped free weed? Fuck, you needed to get creative.

There was no way in hell you were letting Munson win this fucking dinner. At this point, it was a matter of pride.

Scrambling to the front of the store, you started your morning to-do list with fervor. Robin stumbled in, looking still half asleep, she motioned to the back and you barely nodded in her direction.

A few minutes later, Eddie sauntered out. Grinding your teeth, you shifted your shoulders away from him so you didn’t have to look at him directly.

“It’s rude to eavesdrop you know,” Eddie said eventually, hopping onto the counter to your left.

You felt a flash of embarrassment at being caught but you carefully stomped it down. Without flinching, or hesitation, you lifted your eyes to his and quirked your brow. Leaning in slowly, you watched his eyes widen and his mouth part. You waited a moment to speak, eyes drawn to the way you were sure his brown ones had flashed down to your own mouth. Just a little closer, the tiny – stupidly intrusive - voice in your head echoed.

Blinking away the thought, you smirked. “It’s illegal to sell drugs, you know,” you said. Eddie gaped at you, clearly not expecting that, and huffed a moment too late.

Swiveling in your chair you turned to the computer, indicating that you were done speaking and you’d taken it as a win.

Not one to ever let you have the last word, “It wasn’t a sale, it was a gift,” he said.

You hummed, just as petty. “I’m sure Hopper would love to hear that explanation,” you said agreeably. Everyone knew that after El and Joyce, you were Hopper’s favorite.

Eddie grumbled and slinked off towards the returns. Internally pumping your fist, your win was quickly extinguished when Keith came out. “Alright I’m off until tomorrow. Don’t forget to tell Harrington to make sure the box is shut this time,” Keith said, with a weird grin on his face, and turned to Eddie. “Thanks again man, I really appreciate it.” He winked and you had to practically bite a crater into your bottom lip to keep from gagging.

“No worries,” Eddie said, smug expression radiating from the back. You could hear his stupid unsaid words. Your turn, Lightning.

You scowled. God, even imaginary him was unbearable.

“What the fuck?” You muttered to yourself as you opened up the store. “Where the hell is everyone?”

This time, the entire store was dark. You went around quickly flipping the lights on and checked the time. I’m on time, you thought, checking the backrooms. Your morning shift was scheduled as it usually was, an hour after opening, but Eddie was nowhere to be found.

Shit – that never happened. Eddie was always on time.

For a brief second, you wondered if something had happened to him. Anxious fingers already reaching for the phone, you realized you didn’t know his number. Keith would have it, right? Were you ever allowed to look at employee records? Where the hell did Keith keep employee information anyway? Spiraling, you glanced around you one more time like you’d accidentally missed him in the store.

Calm down, you told yourself, Eddie was probably just lazing around like he usually did.

He’s never been late to work, your mind reminded you, especially not your Tuesday morning shifts. Tuesdays were Steve’s day off – Robin always joined you after school at 4PM and helped you close. The both of you would bicker the entire morning about his movie pick, argue about who was shelving returns faster, and usually eventually draw a tentative truce with the shitty coffee from the kitchen.

Despite your vow to never say it out loud – you knew Eddie took work seriously. He was a massive asshole but he was weirdly earnest about this stupid video store. Yanking the phone to your ear, you dialed a number you did know quickly.

“Hello?” A groggy voice answered.

Without preamble, and with a pitch high enough to rival Robin’s, your words stumbled out your mouth. “Steve, I need you to call Eddie. It’s ten thirty and I just came in and had to open the store and he’s always here on time Steve. Always. It’s the most annoying fucking thing on the planet how punctual he is. Something had to have happened on the road or like, I don’t know but-”

“-wait, wait, I just woke up, what are you talking about?”

Annoyance surged through you. “Eddie didn’t show up for his shift!” You hissed into the phone.

“Shit, really?” Steve asked a little shocked despite the sleep clinging to his voice.

“Yes, really! I had to open the store when I showed up a few minutes ago.”

Steve suddenly went quiet. “Fuuuuck,” he said, now sounding completely awake, “is today Tuesday?”

“Yes?”

“Fuck, I totally forgot,” Steve groaned, “Munson asked me to cover his shift.”

You chose to actively ignore the relief that bloomed in your chest. “Jesus Christ Steve,” you sighed, the worry draining out of you and making you feel lightheaded.

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry! I can be there in like five minutes-” a loud crashing sound made you wince and lean away from the receiver. “Ouch,” Steve groaned pathetically.

Biting back your laughter you shook your head. Steve Harrington was undoubtedly, not a morning person. “Hey, it’s fine. Tuesday mornings aren’t exactly rush hour over here. Take the morning off, I’ll be fine until the afternoon.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Harrington, I’m sure. I owe you one anyway,” you rubbed a hand down your face, suddenly exhausted.

“Thanks dude, I’ll be down in a few hours, I’ll bring you coffee,” Steve said gratefully.

“From the good place!”

Steve laughed but promised to bring you the largest cup of coffee they had.

The morning, predictably, was slow. You spent the first half of it shelving returns and the second half of it assisting the odd customer that made their way by. Right as the latest man walked out the door, you caught sight of Keith leaning against his car. Groaning, you straightened and tried to look like you weren’t bored out of your mind.

Right as he started towards the store, you watched him chuck the butt of a joint towards the side. Keith had a dumb smile on his face and yesterday’s interaction slammed into you. Scowling, you smacked the enter button on the keyboard a bit too hard.

“Morning,” Keith drawled, the scent of weed wafting over to you. Grinding your molars, you could practically see the dinner slipping from your fingers.

“Hey,” you greeted, trying and failing to sound upbeat.

“Where’s Munson? I need to thank him again for – a favor he did me,” Keith ended lamely.

You opened your mouth to let him know what had happened but you hesitated. Shit. As of last year, the suits had established a new rule about swapping shifts. They all needed the manager’s approval. If Keith was here asking for Eddie, he hadn’t approved the swap. Steve was on thin ice considering the rule was put in place because of him.

An idea sprouted in the back of your mind and you chewed on your bottom lip. Was it too far? Eddie’s smug expression taunted you for a moment before you shook your head.

“I don’t know actually, he hasn’t called and wasn’t here when I came in,” you said, making an exaggerated notion of checking your watch. Gasping a little dramatically, you put a hand up to your chest. “Oh wow, I hadn’t even realized he’s two hours late! I’ve just been so busy here with customers,” you added, smiling dutifully and completely ignoring the empty store.

A small frown formed on Keith’s face but he shot you an appraising look before nodding. “Good job, thanks for keeping us in shipshape. You’ve always been reliable.”

Shipshape? You cringed at his wide, and weirdly sincere looking smile, before offering a weak one yourself. “Yes sir.”

Yes sir? Jesus you were laying it on thick.

Keith preened at the term and sauntered out the store without another word.

You really should’ve known better than to assume Eddie wasn’t going to try and get back at you.

“Are you fucking kidding me Munson?” You screamed, kicking the front door open so hard that the frame rattled.

Eddie stood behind the counter, eyes glinting, and you could practically feel his skin underneath your hands as you smothered him with a plastic bag. Smug fucker.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you forget to see the change in schedule?” He asked with his stupid smirk on his face. Seeing red, you had a brief moment where you considered launching forward to actually kill him.

Picking a happy medium, you picked up a nearby box of Twizzlers, you launched it at his head and he ducked, shooting you an incredulous look. “I just got yelled at for thirty minutes by Keith,” you said, launching another box of candy. “I didn’t give you a fake schedule making you miss your shift, Eddie. You’re the one who swapped without telling anyone.”

“I told Steve! Who told you!” Eddie argued, eyes flashing.

Putting your hands on your hips you shot him a glare. “Yeah, which is still not allowed!”

“Oh,” Eddie said, his tone dripping with incredulity. He huffed and stomped over to you. “Get off your pedestal, Lightning, don’t act like you give a shit about store rules.”

Stepping closer, you felt your arms brush as you poked his shoulder. “I’m not saying I do, but what did you want me to do? Get you both in trouble?”

“Not lie would be a good start!” Eddie shouted, poking back at you. God, he was infuriating. And why the hell did he always smell so good? “You saw an opportunity and you went for it! I was just evening out the playing field.”

You laughed incredulously. The audacity of this idiot. “Right, and you giving him your weed was what? You being kind?”

Sputtering for a second, you crossed your arms to avoid the visceral instinct to smack him.

“Whatever, the point is we’re even now!”

Even? How the hell were you even? “Munson if you think we’re even, you’re even more of an idiot than I thought.”

At that, he raised his brow. His eyes darted over your face, a ghost of a smile twitching on his lips. “Yeah? Alright then Superstar, you want a war?”

“Bring it on,” you hissed, stomping off into the backroom.

Flipping the sign on the door around to closed, you sighed in relief when the last customer drove off.

“I’m going to go change!” Robin called out, disappearing into the backroom. Steve already had his Westley costume on, black mask and all.

With a twirl and outstretched arms, he asked you what you thought. “You look great Steve,” you said with a smile. “Is Robin Buttercup?”

Steve snorted. “No, that really wouldn’t help the dating rumors. She’s wearing something with Vickie I think,” he said. “Nina is going in the red outfit.”

A soft knock to the front door had you both scowling and you walked up to the glass intending to wave away whoever it was. “Oh, it’s Nance!” You called out. She beamed at you as you opened the door and handed you a small bag. “Ugh, thank you. You’re a life saver!”

“Of course!” She grinned, her Grease costume looking great. “Jonathan’s in the car.”

You waved towards his car and smiled when he waved back. “What are you supposed to be?” Eddie’s voice behind you practically echoed. Steve started his explanation and you rolled your eyes when you saw that he was dressed like Tommy Lee. Predictable.

“So, how’s that going?” Nancy whispered, nodding towards Eddie.

“It’s fine,” you said, avoiding her eyes and shifting your weight to your other foot.

Nancy’s eyes narrowed at him, her loyalty coming off her in waves. “It’s okay, really,” you assured her, “we have an unspoken pact not to bring it up. It makes everything easier. Besides, we all basically went to war against Vecna together.”

“Yeah,” she said, hand going up to play with her hair, “have you…told anyone else about what happened?”

Glancing back at Eddie, your eyes darted down to the bag in your hands and you shook your head. “Only Steve.”

“Why-”

“It’s mortifying, Nance. He’s made how he feels about me abundantly clear,” you said, gritting your teeth and trying to ignore the old hurt that bloomed in your chest. “I’m going to go change before we’re late, okay?”

Slipping past everyone, you found Robin messing with her hair.

“Vickie isn’t going to know what hit her,” you said, smiling when her anxious hands stilled.

“Really? I don’t look stupid?”

“Definitely not,” you assured her. “Help me into this?”

Robin grinned as you quickly changed. The one piece was easy enough to slip into. “You’re going to blow Blake’s socks off,” she said, helping you tie the back of your costume as you pulled the wrist pieces into place.

You shivered a little as you pulled the pantyhose up higher, the cool air quickly causing you to break out into goosebumps. “Remind me why we chose this again?” You asked, already shivering a little. You’d all been invited to Halloween Party by a mutual friend of yours – costumes required. It’d been a stroke of good luck that you had all been scheduled for today’s closing shift. You were actually pretty sure that Keith was still locked in his office after his impromptu visit this afternoon.

“Because Jenna’s house is going to be really hot and you said you’d rather be cold than sweating,” she reminded you, “besides, Blake said he was dressing up as Batman, right?”

You nodded, wiggling into your red boots and wincing when the zipper caught your skin.

“Maybe you’ll win the costume contest,” Robin waggled her brows and you knew she was thinking of the bottle of tequila Jenna had promised to the winners.

Blake, one of your neighbors, had asked if you had any plans for Halloween last week. He was quiet, sweet, and had eyes so blue they almost looked violet. So, you’d taken the chance and invited him along to the party. Checking the time, you winced. “Shit, he’s going to be here soon,” you pulled at the bust one more time before turning around to face Robin. “How do I look?”

Robin’s eyes widened. “Whoa, holy boobies,” she said, hand going up to your chest. You swatted her hand away and rolled your eyes.

“I’m going to assume that’s a good thing,” you laughed when she grinned mischievously. “What?”

“Oh, this night will be fun,” she said, adjusting her cape motioning towards the front door. “Please, Princess Diana of Themyscira, you first.”

Grabbing your hoodie and bag, you made sure to double check that the back doors were locked and shut off the lights. You had barely stepped out when you heard a choking sound. Glancing up, you saw everyone’s eyes on you. Feeling a little self-conscious under the attention, you froze.

“I told you,” Robin said quietly and you barely resisted the urge to turn and swat at her. Your eyes, of their own traitorous volition, shifted to Eddie. His eyes were wide, a little awed, and were trailing down your body. You couldn’t help but smirk when you realized he was checking you out.

“Holy shit, you look great,” Steve said, drawing your attention away from Eddie’s expression, his eyes on the rope you’d attached to the belt, “I’m glad the belt worked out!”

“Thanks,” you said, remembering how Steve had helped you spray paint it gold, “I owe you one.”

Everyone talked amongst themselves, double checking that they had everything before leaving. Feeling someone’s eyes on you again, you glanced up to see Eddie standing a few feet from you. “You look good,” Eddie said, his voice soft, “the costume looks just like her.”

Fighting the pleased, slightly giddy, smile that wanted to break out into your face at his compliment, you shot him a small smile instead. “Thanks, Steve and Robin helped me pick it out,” you said, eyes darting down to his chest and only now realizing that he was shirtless underneath his vest. Suddenly, you felt your mouth dry up and you crossed your arms to keep from coughing. “Uh, your costume is pretty good too.”

“Thanks,” he said, hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck, “Dustin and Steve helped me paint on his tattoos.”

You couldn’t help it, your eyes glanced down at the new tattoo across his stomach. “Did Tommy Lee have a demon tattooed onto his chest?” You asked, leaning forward to get a better look. “It looks really well drawn.”

“That’s uh,” you watched, transfixed, as his Adam’s apple bobbed the closer you got, “my real tattoo actually.” His eyes caught yours and the both of you froze, having gotten much closer than you realized. For a brief, insignificant moment, you couldn’t help but think how much nicer brown was than blue.

“What the hell is going on?” Keith’s voice silenced the rest of your group.

Stepping forward, you automatically went on damage control before Steve or Robin sputtered out something that got you all more in trouble. “We’re just leaving, Keith,” you assured him, “I double checked the back and made sure everything was locked and cleaned.”

You continued to prattle on about your closing checklist, including a few admin tasks that needed his sign off on that you’d left on his desk for next week. Glancing up at him, hoping you’d saved your asses from a reprimand, you realized Keith wasn’t listening. His eyes were south of your face and you barely resisted the urge to gag on sight.

You need this job. You all need this job. Don’t break his nose, don’t do it. If you punch him, you’ll all but hand Eddie that free dinner. You’d probably break your hand. Hopper might be called. Inhale. Exhale.

Fucking pervert, your mind screamed one last time before you buried the thought and your discomfort. Using his distraction to your advantage, you crossed your arms and motioned to the front lights. “Are you okay to close the front on your own?”

At Robin’s cough, he sputtered back to life. A splotchy, disgusting, blush rose on his face and you fought the need to snap. “Of course,” Keith answered eventually, his leering grin making you immediately uncomfortable. “You always think of everything, good job. I’ll take a look at those forms on Tuesday.”

Nodding, you took a few steps back before being stopped by Keith’s voice. “You look good, by the way.”

Spine stiffening, you forced your customer service smile onto your face before nodding. “Thanks, have a good night?” Your voice sounds so fake you knew your friends could feel it radiate off of you.

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith said, gawking at you one last time before disappearing back into his office.

You spun around, ready to smile triumphantly at your friends for avoiding the lecture, when you’re thrown off by Eddie’s sour expression. What the hell crawled up his ass?

“God, I feel like I need a shower,” Nancy said, gagging. Robin and Steve shot you grateful looks, knowing that you’d taken one for the team.

The sound of the front door opening again caught everyone’s attention, your eyes all turning towards a sheepish Jonathan. “Sorry, just wanted to let you know Blake just pulled up.”

You rushed forward, looking out into the parking lot and seeing the familiar red car parked by the front doors. Smiling, you ran a nervous hand down your hair before turning to your friends.

“Meet you guys there? I think Blake wants to stop by for some burgers first,” you said, not able to keep the excitement out of your voice.  

Robin rolled her eyes and pushed you towards the doors. “Yes, we’ll be fine. We’ll see you at the party, go say hi to your date, I’m sure his eyes will fall out his head when he sees you. Just like Keith’s did.” You shot her a glare and she laughed like the bully she was.

“Low blow Buckley, low blow.” You pulled the hoodie on and shot everyone one last wave before pushing the front door open.

Seeing you, Blake stumbled out his car. He was dressed as Batman, with a beaming smile, and you waved excitedly. You ran out to meet him but before you got too far, you heard Eddie grumble: “Who the hell is Blake?”

“Good morning,” Eddie said as he walked in, the bell above the door slamming against your skull. God, why the hell had you listened to Steve about the tequila last night.

Robin groaned next to you, her body slumped over and her hands on her head. “Please stop screaming.”

You caught a flash of amusement on Eddie’s face before he disappeared through the back. “This is your fault,” you mumbled to Robin, who grunted.

“Keith said that we were scheduled to have a half-day! How was I supposed to know that his idea of opening the store late the day after Halloween was going to be only two hours later?” Robin said, her skin turning green, her eyes closing as she gulped audibly.

Hands coming out to smack against her, you pointed her in the direction of the bathroom. “Don’t, please, if I hear you then I’ll start,” you said. Robin sped off towards the employee bathroom and you dropped your head back into your arms.

“Someone clearly enjoyed the party,” Eddie’s voice echoed in the quiet front room. Wincing, you turned to him and glared. He wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t need to sound so smug about it.

Eddie raised his brows, as if reading your thoughts, and you huffed. “I don’t have the energy to deal with you today,” you informed him, willing the two Tylenol you’d taken earlier to start working.

“That’s a first,” Eddie muttered, puttering around the store. “So, you seemed to have fun with Blake.”

The tone of disdain in his voice made you blink at him. From your, admittedly patchy memory – Blake had managed to get along with everyone. He was like the human version of a puppy; he made friends with everyone wherever he went.

You opened your mouth to defend him when a loud voice greeted you both. Fighting the urge to grab at your head, you pulled energy from deep – deep – within your reserves and smiled up at Keith. He had a scarf wrapped around his neck and two different colored gloves on. “Good morning, Keith,” you greeted warily. He never came in on holidays or the day after, having a Keith sighting twice this week was never good.

“I’m just passing by,” he said, eyes trailing down your body. Confused, you looked down at yourself to make sure you hadn’t accidentally tossed your cookies and hadn’t noticed. Your usual t-shirt and jeans looked in place and you only glanced back up with you heard Eddie scoff. Maybe he was just being normal gross Keith?

Keith reappeared, keys and a folder in his hand, walking back out towards the door. He stopped, eyeing the two of you before his gaze landed on you. Straightening reflexively, your spine cracked as you did. “Your costume yesterday…was really good. It helped – uh, give the store some seasonal cheer.”

Seasonal cheer? You thought, confused. Wasn’t that usually Christmas? Eddie seemed to be thinking the same as you were because his brows dipped.

The poignant silence seemed to echo and Keith cleared his throat. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that you’re doing good work and…keep it up.” With another gross smile, he disappeared. Ugh, ew, you groaned.

“What the fuck?” You muttered, encounter already being pushed away by your pounding headache. Another scoff caught your attention and your eyes drew towards the source.

Eddie’s face was turned towards the horror section, his brows furrowed and expression pinched. “Do you have something you’d like to say out loud?” You snipped, not at all in the mood for his emotional whiplash.

“If I had something to say, sweetheart, I’d say it,” Eddie snapped back.

Surprised, you blinked. What the hell was wrong with him?

���Whatever,” you said, the pounding in your head getting worse.

The entire morning went along the same way, Robin dashing to the bathroom, and you barely holding it together up front with Eddie. While you were used to sparring with him, and would admittedly normally find it comforting, this was more than his usual annoyance. He seemed…genuinely angry at you and you couldn’t understand why. To be perfectly honest, the constant nausea from the moment you’d opened your eyes wasn’t really letting you care much about the why as long as he long as he left you alone for two fucking seconds.

Whatever it was, you were tired of it. “I’m taking my break,” you announced, needing space and maybe a coffee now that your stomach had started to settle.

“Uh, no you’re not,” Eddie said, stopping you from moving to the backroom for your wallet. “My break is scheduled before yours.”

How many times had you all taken a break whenever you wanted? Was he really going to be a stickler for this now? “Dude, are you serious right now?” You asked, about two seconds from whining and stomping your foot like a toddler. Holy shit, all you wanted was peace and quiet and a coffee the size of your head.

“Yeah,” Eddie grumbled, crossing his arms, “remember that time it was my break and I was about to pass out from my hangover but you just left the store-”

This again? You fumed. “I didn’t know you were hungover!” You defended yourself for the millionth time. “If you would’ve asked for help like a normal person instead of sulking, I would’ve gotten you something! Or I would’ve let you go first!”

Robin’s head popped out, eyes squinting, and a frown on her face. “Are you guys serious?”

“Ask him!” You threw your hand out towards him. “He’s the one being an asshole today, I don’t know what the hell I did!”

“Isn’t it obvious? Clearly, you’re taking the cheap shots with your fucking costume with Keith. If his eyes had gone any wider than they would’ve popped out his head,” Eddie fumed.

What? “Are you trying to say that it’s my fault Keith is a pervert?”

“No! I’m saying you’re using it to your advantage!” His words hit like a physical blow.

Robin stepped out, hands out to both of you, eyes sharp in his direction. “Dude, too far.”

Feeling like you’d been punched, and more than mildly wounded at the fact that Eddie clearly thought you were willing to lower yourself so that Keith of all people would notice, you blinked at him. In the silence, and to your utter dismay, Eddie seemed to notice that he’d actually hurt you. The apology in his eyes made you dart yours to the floor.

“I didn’t-”

“Don’t,” you said quickly. The last thing you wanted was an apology, especially from Munson. “I stopped expecting apologies from you a long time ago,” you said, not able to keep the hurt and barb out of your tone.

Eddie cleared his throat. “What the hell does that mean?”

Of course. “Right,” you snorted, hating that you’d peeled at your own scab. What the hell did you need to go through to learn your lesson with him? “I’ll be out back. You’re right, it’s your scheduled break and you can go first.”

“But-”

You made sure the door slammed as you stepped out and fought the pressure you felt behind your eyes.

Deep breaths, deep breaths, you reminded yourself. After grabbing a few tentative swings of your water, you splashed some onto your face and nodded at your reflection. You weren’t going to let Eddie get one over on you again.

When you came out a few minutes later, he was gone and Robin had an inquisitive stare.

“It’s nothing,” you said, not even believing yourself.

“Sure.”

The next time you were on shift with Eddie left you wondering if an alien had inhabited his body and was parading around as him.

“It’s weird, right? That he’s being this polite?” You asked Steve as you both got ready to leave after the morning shift. After your pseudo-fight with Eddie two days ago, he’d been stiffly polite and you didn’t know what to do with that.

Steve rolled his eyes and shot you a knowing look. “What? Do you miss the sexual tension you had during your fights?”

Sputtering, you reached out to smack him and he dodged your hands. “I’m joking!”

“I’ll choke you,” you told him.

Steve winked at you and you huffed, hurrying out towards the back exit like you did after every Thursday afternoon. Instead of your usual sight, you froze when you saw Eddie standing by the dumpster with a cigarette.

“Uh,” you said, taken aback. You thought he’d left the second it hit three considering how quickly he darted out.

“Hey?” Eddie said, making it sound like a question.

With an awkward wave, you cleared your throat and said, “Hey.”

Checking your watch, you realized you still had a few minutes but now you didn’t know what to do. Eddie, clearly feeling the tension, broke the silence. “I’m just, smoking…as the car heats up,” he motioned to his van that he kept parked out back in the employee lot. He’d gotten special permission because the van didn’t fit in the regular parking lot.

“Right,” you said, rubbing your hands together for warmth. You pulled your beanie tighter against your head and chewed on your bottom lip.

“What, uh, why do you always come out here after your shifts Thursday?”

Not able to help your smile, you saw his eyes light up with interest. Before you could answer, you heard the telltale sign of a gate being opened. With your hand, you motioned for him to follow you as you rounded the corner to the building.

As always, there was a big, furry, dopey, smile waiting for you. From this angle, you could see his golden tail wagging happily at the sight of you.

“Thought he was gonna cry when he didn’t see you,” Maggie, the owner of the bookstore and the adorable golden retriever who was currently jumping in excitement at the sight of you.

Reaching over the fence, you scratched at his ears and chin. “Hey Fitz, who’s a good boy?” Fitz leaned his big head into your palms and you looked over your shoulder at Eddie. The sight of his wide smile smacked into your chest so intensely you felt off balance. Gripping the fence, you waved for him to come over.

Fitz, sensing another potential hand for head scratches, let his tongue loll out and tilted his head in a desperate attempt to look cuter. Your heart melted at the sight and Eddie’s soft murmurs didn’t help. After a few minutes, and a lot of attention, Fitz jumped off the fence and you waved to Maggie before pulling Eddie back towards Family Video.

“The shift change today always coincides with Mags letting Fitz out for a bathroom break. It’s nice, to see them before I leave,” you shrugged, “Fitz is always happy to see me.”

“Yeah, dogs are great,” he said, “especially big ones with dopey smiles.”

You thought of Maggie’s other dog, her shy little elderly chihuahua and you grinned. “The small ones are cute too.”

“It’s definitely a blanket understanding that dogs are all great,” Eddie said, smiling.

Wait a fucking second, were you getting along with Eddie Munson? As if realizing the same thing, Eddie’s hand came up to scratch awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Uh, I’m gonna go-”

“-yeah, me too, uh, bye,” you said, not letting him finish and darting back inside.

Still a little dazed by the weird, almost normal, conversation – you didn’t realize Steve is practically drooling until Robin turned to shoot you a desperate look.

“What now?” You sighed, picking your bag up.

“One of Harrington’s crushes is here,” Robin said, “he flirted, she responded, they’re going out for coffee, and he’s acting like an idiot over, what number is she again?”

“Number three, Robin, three,” he hissed.

Scrunching your nose, you turned to slap Steve in the head. “What the hell is wrong with you, are you rating girls on a scale?”

“Ouch!” Steve hissed, turning to try and discretely check to see if the blonde had noticed. “I am not rating them on a scale, they’re numbered by how often they come in. Three is three times a week!”

Oh. “Woops, thought you were being a weirdo again.”

“I’ve had considerable growth, I’ll have you know,” he said.

Robin snorted and Steve shot her a wounded look. He then turned his big brown eyes to you. “So, remember how you usually catch a ride with me today because your dad uses your car?”

With a big, dramatic, sigh you pretended to think about it. “What you’re saying is, you’d ditch your friend for a girl? Your best friend who fought Russians and Vecna with you?”

Steve’s eyes turned down, a little sheepish, and he shook his head. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t do that to you. Let me go tell her-”

“Oh my God,” you shoved his shoulder, “you really do love me Harrington. I’m messing with you, go have fun. I’ll catch a ride with Robin when her mom comes by. I’m literally her neighbor.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, the light flush returning to his face.

You laughed and pointed to the door. “Go on Romeo, have fun.”

“I owe you one dude, you’re the best!” He said, straightening his jacket before running a nervous hand through his hair. Robin elbowed you and you grinned as he walked out but managed to slip on a pile of wet leaves. He recovered before she noticed but both of you couldn’t help but snort along with Robin.

She turned to you and leaned onto the counter. “You sure you want to wait? I’m on until closing.”

“Yeah,” you glanced at the low sun. While you loved the fall, you definitely weren’t keen on walking home in the dark – not after what you’d seen. Robin knew – shit, you all knew – and usually was your buddy in the system Dustin rigorously implemented. “I’ll grab a late lunch at the coffee shop and be back in an hour? Want anything?”

“Can you grab me a coffee?” She asked, eyes widening as she plead.

You grinned and squeezed her elbow before pushing the door open. “Be back soon!”

The second cup of hot coffee had quickly gone lukewarm while you walked back towards Family Video two hours later. The sidewalk was littered with fallen leaves and you stepped towards a particularly crunchy pile of leaves when you heard it.

“Lightning?” The voice called out while your foot was mid-air.

“Jesus Christ,” you clutched your chest, pulling your headphones off. Eddie looked mildly amused, head leaning out his van.

“You can call me Eddie, no need to be formal,” he said. You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to chuck a fistful of leaves at him.

“Do you make it a habit of driving up to girls in the dark?” You asked, gazing at him. Eddie rolled his eyes and you realized. “Also, stop calling me that.”

“I’m not the one that gave you the nickname!” He said, like he always did.

You fought the urge to leave him there, not wanting to be the first to ruin the precarious peace you had. He wasn’t wrong – but it wasn’t about the nickname per say, it was the tone he used to say it. Kicking the leaves by your foot, the memory of your high school coach floated to the surface. He was kind, intense, but a huge believer of everyone on the girls’ soccer team. He’d been offered the chance to coach the boys’ varsity team but had stuck with the girls.

He'd dubbed you Lightning as a freshman, claiming that you’d win a scholarship to college with how fast you could run the field. The moniker stuck.

Eddie shifted, eyes going over your shoulder towards the store. “Why the hell are you still hanging around here? Our shift ended two hours ago. Keith isn’t around to kiss his ass,” he said, fiddling with a cigarette.

“Pot, kettle,” you said with a snort. You motioned to the store. “Robin is on until closing. Harrington had a date and I don’t have a ride. Why the hell are you still hanging around here?”

“Was at the arcade with the kids. What about you? Your legs broken?” He asked, his stupid tone rubbing you the wrong way.

You glared at him. “My house is like an hour walk away and it’s freezing outside. I’d rather not freeze to death walking in the dark by the forest.”

“Scared?” He teased, and you could see a faint smile building.

“Yeah,” you answered honestly, eyes falling to the visible scars on Eddie’s hands. You knew what hid in the shadows in Hawkins. You weren’t risking shit.

Clearly not expecting your honesty, he blinked at you. After an awkward moment, he nodded. “Alright, hop in.”

“With you?” You said eyeing his car.

Eddie rolled his eyes at you and you saw hurt flash across his face. “I know it’s not a sports car like you’re used to but-”

You held up a hand. “I drive my dad’s old car, Munson. Steve is the one with the BMW. I wasn’t doubting your car, I was doubting your driving skills.”

The defensiveness melted off to give way for comical indignation. “How dare you?” He asked.

Weighing your options, you sighed. You were pretty hungry and hadn’t wanted to spend so much money on food in the café when you knew you had perfectly good leftover pizza at home. Besides, you’d woken up early and desperately just wanted to shower and get out of your jeans. “Alright,” you said reluctantly and Eddie snorted.

“Don’t sound too excited there Lightning,” he said.

Ignoring him, you motioned to the store. “Just let me go tell Robin.” Without waiting for a response, you jogged up to the door and empty storefront. “Hey, Munson’s giving me a ride home. See you tomorrow?”

Ignoring her wiggling brows, you waved off her teasing jabs and jogged back to his van. Pulling yourself into the passenger seat, Eddie had closed his window and blasted the heating.

“Heating takes a minute to get going, you want a blanket? I’ve got some in the back,” he asked, cheeks a little flushed.

“I’m okay,” you assured him, tucking your hands under your thighs. “Thanks.”

As he nodded, pulling away from the curb, you were struck by the scent that enveloped you. It was a mix of smoke, laundry detergent, and something woodsy. Inhaling deeply, you hated how much you seemed to chase after it.

 Shit, you thought, the scent was going to sink into your clothes and it’d drive you insane every time you wore this jacket. You vehemently tried to ignore the reasoning behind why it’d drive you up a wall. Nope, not touching that one with a ten-foot pole. You buried that part of you back into the dirt where it belonged.

Clearly uncomfortable with your sudden silence, Eddie hurried to put on music. “Sorry for the mess,” Eddie said, oddly earnest. He tossed a few wrappers into the back and you reached out to stop his fumbling.

“Seriously, it’s fine, my car looks the same. Well, not exactly the same but I’ve been there. I’m not…” you trailed off as Eddie headed towards the direction you’d pointed.

Eddie glanced at you, hands on the wheel. “You’re not?”

“I’m not that type of person,” you muttered, your fingers burning where they’d touched his, and stared at the window, “I wouldn’t make fun of your car.”

“Oh.”

The radio station announced a change in song and by the first few chords you’d already started bobbing your head along to the music. Your brother had been playing this non-stop all month and it’d grown on you.

She's got a smile that it seems to me

Reminds me of childhood memories

Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky

You hummed along and watched the trees flash by. Eddie cleared his throat mid-chorus and you startled. “Uh, I just…I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You asked, shooting him a suspicious glare. “Is this the part where you murder me and toss my body in the woods? I helped clear your name Munson. I hauled your unconscious ass through a hole in the roof of your trailer.”

Eddie, surprising you both, laughed. You blinked, unaware you were even capable of making Eddie laugh and stared at him a little disbelieving.

“No, I’m not the smartest kid in this town but even I’m not dumb enough to think I can take you on,” he said.

You grinned, feeling a little pleased at the compliment and nodded. “I’m glad you recognize my superiority.”

Snorting, Eddie shook his head and sighed. “No, I meant, about the comment I made about – about the implication that you’d dress a certain way to gain Keith’s favor.”

Completely floored at the fact that Eddie fucking Munson was actually acknowledging that he’d crossed a line and apologizing for it, you nodded dumbly. “It’s okay,” you heard yourself say faintly.

“It’s not,” he insisted, eyes a little too sincere for you as he looked over at you while at the red light. “It was uncalled for and I was annoyed you’d…gotten one over on me. It was immature and shitty and I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. Besides, no one wants Keith’s attention that badly. No one.”

It was quiet for a few before you broke it with a small smile. “I didn’t know you were capable of emotional maturity.”

The tension snapped when Eddie registered what you’d said with a scoff. “Ha, ha,” he said dryly.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, looking at the familiar houses as you drove past, “I appreciate it.”

Eddie nodded, his grip on the steering wheel tight. You itched to ask him something, anything, but the awkward silence had descended again.

It became suffocating the longer you sat silently but you didn’t have it in you to say anything. You thought of the tentative truce you had for the past few days, and his apology, and something soft unfurled in your chest.

Whoa, oh, oh

Sweet child o' mine

Whoa, oh, oh, oh

Sweet love of mine

The music curled around you, eyes peeking at him discretely and you couldn’t help but smile at how he mouthed the words to the music. Suddenly, an old memory steamrolled you, bubbling up unbidden.

You were so excited, you couldn’t believe you’d found the dress you wanted at such a discount – and it was the last one – in your size! Anne said it was definitely a sign. You carefully applied your mascara and the last bit of hairspray into your hair.

“Do I look dumb? I don’t want him to think I’m trying too hard,” you said, nervous beyond belief.

Anne beamed at you; eyes soft. “You look beautiful and trust me, he won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you.”

The guitar solo broke you from the memory. Oh, you were here.

“The blue one at the end?” He asked. “Robin’s is the yellow one, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, voice coming out too shaky.

Eddie shot you a confused look but your eyes darted down to your bag at your feet.

While you’d never admit it out loud - your attraction to Eddie had never fully been stomped out but…as you glanced at him from the corner of your eyes, you couldn’t help but remember.

The memory of that night slithered back to the front of your mind and your nails dug into your palms. The feeling of your dress under your fingers, the smell of hairspray, and the memory of the butterflies in your stomach.

Eddie came to a stop and you jumped out like you were a bat out of hell. Inhaling deeply, you felt your clammy hands unclench as clean air filled your lungs.

“Thanks for the ride, I owe you one,” you said, not bothering to look back.

Eddie’s confused voice followed you as you slammed the door behind you. “Oh, uh, sure-”

You jogged towards your front door, quickly shutting it and dropping your bag onto the floor. Eddie Munson was not to be trusted, you reminded yourself, watching through the blinds as he idled in your driveway before pulling out. No matter how nice he smelled or how deceptively beautiful his stupid eyes were. Those had been the same things that had pulled you in before and he – he’d…

Wiping your face with the back of your wrist, you ripped the dress off your body and climbed into your bed. Crying until your chest hurt from heaving, you still couldn’t help but wonder how you’d read him so wrong.

That’s what you’d gotten for trusting Eddie Munson and no matter what truce or bond you had, you weren’t making that mistake twice.

You had spent the entire night replaying the painful memories in your head like some sick twisted version of your own personal hell. So, when you woke up bleary eyed and cranky for your shift the next morning, you weren’t totally surprised.

“Good morning,” Eddie said, early as always, when you walked in.

Grumpy at having to work the morning shift on little to no sleep – thanks to him no less – you grumbled incoherently. A ghost of a smile flashed across Eddie’s face before he handed you a to-go cup.

Narrowing your eyes at it, you watched as his lips twitched before he wiggled the cup at you again. “It’s not poisoned, I swear. I got it from the coffee shop two streets down.”

“Oh,” you said, realizing you did know the design on the sleeve. You took it from him and sipped it cautiously. “That’s my favorite coffee shop, the baristas are so nice.”

“I know,” he said, ears turning red as he whirled around.

You blinked at him, confused. “Thanks,” you said, not sure if it was a statement or question.

He waved his hand in the air and you tossed your things into your locker. Coming back out, you hopped onto the counter and watched Eddie reshelve as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Suddenly, you realized he had put on The Breakfast Club – one of your favorites. Hadn’t he given you shit for how many times you liked to watch it?

Your eyes darted towards him to find him already watching you. “What?” He asked, startled at your sudden attention.

“Interesting movie choice,” you said, shrugging.

Eddie’s molten eyes seared you as his mouth curved into something resembling a sheepish smile. “It’s a good movie,” he said, chewing on his bottom lip.

The quiet of the store, the one only a Friday morning could conjure, echoed loudly. You both blinked at each other, unsure. You did know, however, that he was extending a metaphorical olive branch. And you didn’t want to be the asshole that rejected that. No matter how much you didn’t trust him.

“It is a good movie,” you agreed, taking a swig of your coffee and realizing that Eddie had gotten your coffee order correctly. How did he know how you liked your coffee?

Eddie’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Let me guess, you’re Molly Ringwald.”

You snorted so hard, you almost felt coffee come out your nose. Thumping your chest, you coughed until it cleared. “Dude, what the hell?”

Eddie looked bewildered.

“I wish I was Molly,” you said, looking up at the television again. “I’m definitely Brian.”

“What?”

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” you said, waving him off. “Mr. Bateman’s AP Chem lab is the reason I lost the full ride to Indie State. The only reason I kept some of it was because of the soccer scout. My mom didn’t care, she’s happy I was top of the class but, whatever. Mr. Bateman can fucking suck it.” Alright, maybe you were still a little bitter about it.

Eddie’s contemplative silence only made you more nervous.

“That’s why I’m in this shithole,” you added, picking at the coffee cup cover. “I can’t afford college yet; I’ve got money from the grants I did get – and my soccer scholarship but…I still needed some more. My mom said she’d get it somehow but, I barely see her enough as it is.”

“I didn’t know,” Eddie said quietly.

You looked at him over your shoulder and shrugged. “I know you didn’t. That’s why I like to remind you that your trailer park and my neighborhood are only a few blocks apart. I didn’t grow up like Steve. I don’t know what image you have of me but, just because I hung out with cheerleaders and jocks at the end of high school didn’t mean I had the money they did.”

Before Eddie could say anything else, you switched the subject. No matter how nice he was being, you’d learned the hard way that Eddie Munson had two sides and could flip between them with enough speed to give you whiplash.  

“Let me guess, you’re Bender,” you asked, grabbing the next stack of tapes. You needed to do something or you were going to end up biting off all your nails.

Eddie sighed. “I’d like to prove you wrong and tell you definitely not but, yeah – we’re just a cliché in the end huh?”

There was something about the way he’d said it, numb – like a bunch of people had told him he wouldn’t amount to anything until he’d started to believe it himself. A flash of Bender’s face while Vernon yelled at him crossed your mind. A surprising wave of protectiveness surged in you.

“No, Eddie,” you said, finally meeting his eyes. You let your eyes roam around his wild hair, curls jutting out like they had a mind of their own, his Metallica long sleeve t-shirt was faded and looked incredibly soft underneath his Family Video vest. Why couldn’t you just let the idea of him go? A pang of old hurt shot through you. Your eyes fell back to his and you felt your stomach summersault at the look in them. “You are anything but a cliché.”

The smile that grew on Eddie’s face reminded you of a gar den. It was warm and welcoming as it split his face nearly in two. After a moment, you turned back to the computer, hands clammy, and tried hard not to focus on the new comfortable silence that had settled.

You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at how much you’d revealed with your answer but also wondered if that had been the metaphorical white flag to finally wave between you two. Either way, later on in the day when Robin skidded into the store, she shrieked.

“Did you finally kill Munson? I knew you’d crack one day.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s too quiet in here! Where’d you hide the body? Actually, don’t tell me, I don’t want to accidentally sell you out.”

Eddie walked through the swinging doors and smiled when he saw Robin. “Oh, hey, I didn’t hear the bell. How was your midterm?”

Ignoring his question, Robin looked between you two nervously. “I don’t know what’s worse, the bickering or the truce.”

Eddie leaned onto the counter and you used every ounce of willpower you had not to dart your eyes towards the exposed sliver of skin at his waist. “What’s she talking about?” Eddie asked, eyes sparkling with humor.

You eyed him, the small voice that usually warned you away from him mysteriously quiet. After a beat too long, you offered up your own white flag. “I don’t know,” you said, playing along, “you know how she is.” Surprise and relief flashed across Eddie’s face before melting into a small smirk.

People could change, you’d seen it in Steve. And while it didn’t change your opinion about the past, and what’d he’d done – you didn’t need to fight him for the rest of your lives.

Robin’s eyes almost bugged out her head. “No, no, no you can’t gang up on me! Where’s Harrington when you need him?”

Wincing as the group on stage screamed their goodbyes, you sipped your beer and wondered if you’d taken the metaphorical flag waving a bit too far.

It was a combination of Eddie’s complete one-eighty change in personality, the hopeful look in his stupid Bambi eyes, and Steve answering for you, that landed you in a crowded bar downtown waiting for Corroded Coffin to take the stage as the final act. According to Dustin, their pseudo-manager, it was a huge night for them. They were the main band, and had managed to get a full house.

“Hey everyone,” a voice echoed and your eyes shot up to the stage.

Dustin shushed everyone, Nancy and Robin sharing an eye roll – and you muffling your laugh – as he stared up at the band.

“We want to thank everyone for coming out,” Eddie said, looking completely at home up on the stage. You couldn’t help but be a little…well, shocked. He’d transformed completely as he strummed his guitar, his head banging as he made the stage his home.

It was clear now, compared to the other bands, why Corroded Coffin was the main attraction. They played well off each other, the other three members balancing out Eddie’s energy and ramping it up when they needed to.

“Now, I know you guys are here for the classics but we did get one request and I promised him I’d play it before the end of the night. So, Harrington, this one’s for you,” Eddie said with a wink.

Your group turned to gaze at Steve who grinned. At the sight of all the stares, Steve grinned sheepishly. “We made a bet last week at the store. If he lost, he had to play a pop cover,” Steve said, grinning victoriously. Despite the shift, the crowd still ate it up.

Steve pulled your hand up to his and twirled you around. Shrieking at the sudden, unexpected, movement, you laughed when Steve herded you onto the dance floor. His head bopped, one arm around yours and you jumped along to the tempo. Nancy and Jonathan joined you both, in their own world, and you opened your arms to beckon Robin over.

Soon, the set came to an end and Steve had led the group back over to the bar. A little out of breath, and sweaty, you ordered another beer and pressed the cool bottle to your cheek. “Damn Harrington, you’ve got moves,” you said, impressed.

Steve winked at you and for a brief moment you could see what girls saw in him. Robin, however, just rolled her eyes and sipped her drink. “Oh, look, it’s Eddie!” She waved, greeting him with a hug. Your little group cheered for them, offering up their congratulations. Feeling a little awkward, the peace between you two still too new, you focused on getting your pulse back to normal.

“So, I saw you dancing,” Eddie said, sliding into the bar stool next to yours.

Biting back a smile, you shrugged. “You weren’t atrocious,” you said nonchalantly.

Eddie, recognizing the compliment hidden underneath, threw his head back and laughed. “High praise from you, Lightning.” The echoes of his laughter flittered around you.

“Don’t say I never said anything nice,” you said, teasing back. The electricity between you both yawned awake and you chewed on your cheek. This new development had you avoiding Eddie recently, unsure on how to handle it. Glancing at him, you saw his stare already on you. Not wanting to flinch away like you normally did, you sipped your drink, eyes still on his. You licked at your bottom lip, catching a stray drop of beer and your stomach summersaulted when you saw his eyes follow the movement.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” he said quietly, almost inaudible under the music blaring from the speakers.

Not knowing what to say, you shrugged. “Technically, you didn’t invite me,” you said, “Steve just pulled me along.”

Eddie’s head reared back, his eyes flying back to yours and he only dropped his shoulders when he realized you were joking. “I’ll invite you personally next time,” he said, knocking his beer bottle with yours.

More than a little surprised, you shot him a look and he just ducked his head to smile. Your heart skipped and you wanted to reach down and beat it back into submission. This wasn’t the time to forget.

“Although, I can do you one better,” he swirled in his stool, his knees bumping into yours and leaving them there. His warmth seeped into your skin, like he was branding you, and you quirked your brow in a last-ditch effort to seem unaffected.

“Do you want to go to an afterparty? Jared, one of the guitarists, lives out by the lake and has a bonfire after. It’s got shitty alcohol but good people,” Eddie added when he saw you scrunch your nose.

Dropping your hand to his, surprising you both, you winced. “Lover’s Lake?” You asked quietly.

Understanding bled into his expression and he shook his head. “Opposite side of town, I promise,” he said, his finger tracing a small circle onto your skin. “I…can’t really go by that lake either now.”

“Are the others going?” You asked, glancing around for a familiar face.

Eddie smiled. “Why? Scared to be alone with the Satan worshippers?”

Not able to help yourself, you snorted. “Eddie, I could sucker punch you into next week without blinking,” you said.

With a dramatic gasp, hands going to his chest, you watched amusedly as Eddie sputtered. “How dare you? I fought demobats for you.”

“I’m still the better fighter,” you said, laughing when he feigned hurt.

“I can’t believe you’d say that completely true fact right to my face,” he said, huffing.

Before you could tease back, a scruffy haired guy popped up by Eddie’s shoulder. “Eddie, Mark wants to talk to you. Said something about payment and next week’s schedule.”

Eddie looked almost remorseful but he tapped your arm. “I’ll be right back and then we can all drive out to Jared’s.”

“You’re coming?” The newcomer asked, surprise tinting his expression.

Feeling a little defensive, you felt your shoulders rise and were suddenly almost thrown from your seat when Eddie stood up. His back was to you but you managed to catch his death glare towards his friend. You placed an stumbling, desperate, hand on his hip for balance and Eddie jumped. His eyes dropped to yours and they softened. “Sorry. Lightning, Gareth - Gareth, Lightning. I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, lifting your bottle in a semi-salute and Eddie smiled before disappearing into the crowd. Nancy, a little disheveled and out of breath, leaned against you and sighed. “It’s so loud!” She said, a little too loudly for how close to your ear she was. She swayed a little and you knew by the flush in her cheeks that she was tipsy.

“Come on Wheeler, park it,” you said, bumping her into your stool. She beamed at you, pushing hair away from her face.

“Hey, Gareth, right? You played really well.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Completely forgetting Eddie’s bandmate, you glanced at him to find him watching you. Feeling awkward again, you steadied Nancy as she chatted with the bartender. “Um, I know who you are by the way,” you said, shifting your weight. “We were in English and Biology together during junior year.”

Gareth smiled, making him look younger, and you watched him as he became a little flustered. “Yeah, you always helped me out with the pop quizzes.”

Snorting, you glanced at him. “By helping out do you mean letting you and Jeff cheat off me?”

Laughing, he nodded and you grinned. “Not a lot of people would’ve helped,” he said, “but you were always nice to us. You never let Tommy pick on us either.”

“He wasn’t as much of a bully without his leaders,” you said with a scoff, remembering Steve’s old friends. “Besides, he knew from experience not to fuck with me.”

Clearly that had been the only thing Gareth needed to break the ice because conversation flowed easily after. At one-point, mid-sentence, you glanced over at the dance floor and caught sight of Eddie.

Voice drying up, you watched as he wrapped his arms around a girl a good head shorter than him. She leaned back, eyes sparkling in clear adoration, and you felt your stomach drop to your feet. She had long, beautiful, black hair that you knew was something she was born with – hair that nice had to be genetics. Her entire outfit screamed effortless and grunge in a way you’d never in a million years be able to replicate. She looked like the girlfriend of the guitarist of a band, like someone who fit in, you thought, annoyed.

Whoa, where had that come from? You straightened, realizing you’d completely ignored Gareth. His eyes shot you a knowing look. “That’s Mark’s daughter – the owner of the bar. She’s cool-”

“-I’m sure she is. Um, I’ll be right back,” you said, rushing towards the exit. The cold November air stung as you took a shuddering breath. You watched it evaporate into the air and you frowned.

What the fuck was in the air in that place? Had you gotten jealous? Over Eddie? You shook your head, leaning against the brick wall and placing a hand to your forehead. Get it together, you scolded yourself, get it the fuck together.

“Hey.”

Nearly jumping out of your skin, you whirled around and came face to face with Eddie. He was rubbing his hands together, clearly cold. “You’re shivering,” he said as your mind whirled with an excuse to just drive home.

Before you could tell him you were fine – you hadn’t worn a thick enough coat since you knew you’d be driving to the bar – Eddie had unzipped his hoodie and wrapped it around your shoulders. Clearly, your body was certifiably insane because your arms tucked themselves into the sleeves and latched onto the warmth. Hello? You mind screamed. This is the opposite of getting it together!

“You’ll start to shiver now,” you said, brows furrowing at the sight of his thin long sleeve. Eddie just waved off your concern and tucked his hands into his jean’s pockets. His eyes were wide as you burrowed into his hoodie, his brown ones stuck on your torso. Did he want it back?

“I’ll be fine, I’ve got my leather jacket inside,” he said, voice sounding a little strangled, and his eyes darted over your head, “I just came out to see what the hell had you thinking you could pull an Irish goodbye.”

You hadn’t been aware he was watching you. Mind coming up blank, you looked down towards your hands and immediately regretted it. The motion brought your nose closer to the collar and a waft of Eddie’s stupid smell just wrapped around you. “Uh, I was just getting a bit too hot,” you lied, poorly.

“Right,” Eddie said, “so this would be the right moment to tell you Jared’s party is mostly outside?”

Well, fuck.

“Hey Munson!” A group of guys from one of the earlier bands waves towards the road. “We’re gonna go help Jared set up. You coming?”

“Yeah!” He called out waving them off and turning back to you. “I let Harrington know he could leave his car behind in the parking lot but he said he’s giving a Robin a ride. I don’t mind giving anyone a ride. Byers said he’d take the kids home with Wheeler. She’s a little-”

“-drunk already?” You finished for him with a smile. “Nancy is a certified badass in every way but her alcohol tolerance.” Wrapping your arms around yourself, you tried your best to ignore the waft of cologne that threatened to pull you under.

Eddie laughed, stupidly pretty eyes trailing down to your torso again. His cheeks flushed and you frowned. “So, you want shotgun?”

And like the complete, and absolute mess that you were, you felt yourself nod. “Sure, can’t let Steve have all the fun.”

There was absolutely no way in hell you were telling anyone how absolutely fucking freezing you were. How the fuck did everyone look warm enough? On the ride over, Eddie had the heating blasting and it still didn’t feel like enough.

As Eddie pulled the van into a spot by a house in the woods, everyone in the back piled out and you groaned internally at the gust of air that came through the open side doors.

“Here,” Eddie said, rummaging around the back and pulling out a purple blanket. He tucked it under his arm and motioned to the fire that had already been started. “It’s much warmer in front of the fire, I promise.”

Not needing to be told twice, you sped over to the empty logs by the fire and plopped down. Curling your arms around you, you let the warmth of the flames sink into your skin. “Jesus that’s good,” you said, extending a hand out towards the fire.

Something soft dropped into your lap and Eddie took a seat on the wooden log next to you. “Here, I’ve got a few blankets in the van if you want another.”

Your fingers were curled into the soft material and you blinked up at him. Eddie Munson had warm fluffy blankets in his van?

“I remember that blanket,” Gareth said as he passed you both on his way towards the food. He wiggled his brows at Eddie who looked like he was turning purple.

Car blankets…ew! “Oh my God, is this your sex blanket? Eddie, did you just offer me your hook up blanket?” You asked, staring at the purple cloth suspiciously.

Clearly not expecting that answer, he choked, eyes wildly turning to you. “No, Jesus, Lightning – no it’s not my fucking sex blanket,” he hissed, voice lowering towards the end.

You took in his mildly offended expression and snorted. “Oh, stop looking like I pissed in your cheerios, you’re telling me you’ve never hooked up with a girl in your van? With all that space?”

Eddie’s cheeks turned suspiciously pink and you couldn’t help but grin. “I haven’t hooked up with anyone on that blanket!” He insisted.

Giving it a tentative sniff, the same Eddie scent drifted out and you deemed it suitable. Wrapping the fleece around your shoulders, you tucked yourself into it and almost cried at how warm you felt. Beaming up at Eddie, you leaned your shoulder onto his. “Thank you, Munson.” Jesus, clearly the cold was interfering with your common sense.

Despite your mind screaming into the void, your heart skipped when he smiled softly. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, eyes on the fire.

“Someone’s a little cold,” a voice said, an enormous man sitting onto the log next to you. For a moment, you swore the ground shook.

“Jared,” Eddie greeted, fist bumping against his. “This is-”

“-I know who you are,” Jared said with a grin and you raised your brow. He laughed, eyes scrunching when he did. “You went to school with my little sister. She was on the junior varsity team.”

A flash of Mariah’s face came to the forefront of your mind and you grinned. Mariah had been a freshman right as you’d graduated. Her determined expression, box braids tied neatly back, and wide smile came to mind.

“No shit, I didn’t know she had a brother,” you straightened, smiling up at the giant. “She’s like five feet worth of anger and determination on the field. I helped coach the JV team my last year.”

Jared smiled, his teeth incredibly straight and white. “Yeah, she idolizes you man. Said she wanted to be just like Lightning,” he said, “she told me how you worked with her after practice to get her drills better. Thanks.”

You waved away his gratitude. “No thanks needed; she’s got a great career ahead of her. She’d get scouted in a second – last I heard she wanted to go to Brown?”

“Yeah,” Jared said, clearly proud, “she got the brains.”

“I’m assuming that means you got the brawn?” You asked. Eddie sputtered, trying and failing to hide his laugh.

Jared, amused, shook his head. “Everyone’s gotta mention it,” he said, “if you ask me what the weather is like up here, I’ll kick you out.”

“No, you won’t,” you said, burrowing back into your blanket and smirking up at the man who clearly adored his sister, “or I’ll tell Mariah and she’ll never let you live it down.”

Jared’s laughter echoed around the trees and illuminated the forest. It was the kind of laughter that you couldn’t help but join in on. “Munson, I like this one. How’d you manage to bag Lightning of all people?”

You opened your mouth to tease Eddie but instead he turned a bright red and said adamantly: “We’re not dating, we work together.”

It took everything in your soul to not let your face show how stung you were at how quickly and fervently he said that. Jesus. Alright, he didn’t want to date you – that was crystal clear. “So, you’re single?” Jared said, wiggling his brows. Having known him for exactly five minutes, you could already tell he was joking.

“Keep playing your cards right and maybe I won’t be,” you teased back.

Jared laughed, utterly delighted, and Eddie huffed. “You wouldn’t want Batman coming after you,” he said.

Completely confused, you turned to him and lowered the blanket. “What?”

“Blake?” Eddie said, tone equally confused.

“Oh,” you said, shaking your head, “he’s just a friend. He’s one of my neighbors – he just broke up with his girlfriend and didn’t want to go to the party alone. He knew I…well, I needed the night out so we decided to go together. Then we won the contest and the tequila…”

Eddie’s face went blank and Jared chuckled. “Sounded like a hell of a party.”

“It was, so was the hangover the next morning,” you said, shivering when a strong gust of wind hit you.

“Well, the weather down there looks cold if your teeth chattering is anything to go by,” Jared said, eyes mischievous. “Hey Eddie, why don’t you give her some of my special blend? It always warms people right up.”

Eddie snorted and you turned to glance at both of them. “Is that euphemism for something? Because I may not be as tall as you but I’m scrappy and I’ll kick both your asses.”

Jared’s laugh boomed again and a few people turned to glance at your curiously. “You’re funny, I really like her Munson,” he said, tone suggestive.

Not wanting to go down that particular road – something told you that an older brother like Jared would be ruthless in teasing – you hopped to your feet. “Come on Munson, let’s get this infamous drink.”

You followed Eddie’s lead towards the tables set up by the lone house near the lake. Glancing around, you watched as a few people smiled at you and greeted each other warmly. You had no idea there was such a big metalhead scene in Indiana.

“They like you,” he said, handing you a red cup filled with what smelled like paint stripper.

“A lot of people finding my presence to be scintillating, not everyone despises me the way you do,” you said, quirking a brow at him, you took a sip and almost spat it out into the dirt. What the- “Holy shit what the fuck is that?”

Eddie laughed, eyes turning towards Jared. “He makes this gross moonshine concoction that he swears is great.”

Not able to scrub the taste from your mouth, you shouted: “Jared this tastes like acetone! If I die from ingesting this shit, I’m haunting your ass!”

Jared and his bandmates laughed, waving away your grievances and you rolled your eyes. “A beer, please, I’ll even take some shitty vodka.”

Snorting, Eddie snapped the cap off your bottle with his keys and handed it to you. It was cold but you instantly swashed it around your mouth, trying to get your nerve endings to return.

“I don’t despise you,” Eddie said after he’d opened himself a beer.

“What?” You asked, practically drooling at your attempts to wash down the moonshine. God, your mouth was on fire. Eddie smiled but handed you the bag of chips he’d swiped from the table. Digging into them with gusto, you looked up at him curiously.

“I said, I don’t despise you,” he echoed quietly, his eyes darting down to his beer bottle. You froze, mid-chew and followed his eyesight. Eddie’s thumb was picking at the label relentlessly, the sticky paper peeling as his nail grated at it.

Hating the light awkwardness that had settled in, you shrugged, bumping his shoulders with your own. “High praise coming from Eddie Munson.” Your eyes flittered around the woods and you stood, nodding towards Jared. “Come on, I need to go give him more shit for that drink. I don’t know if I’ll ever taste anything normally again.”

You took off, Eddie’s footsteps and laughter following close behind.

“Did you know that the Harvest Festival opened last week?” You asked Eddie, words slurring.

Eddie nodded, the movement distracting you. “Yeah, Lightning, you’ve told me like six times tonight. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Have I?” You hiccupped, chest shuddering against your permission. “I really want to go.”

“Oh my god, me too!” Robin said, leaning her entire body weight onto your side. Falling over, you stumbled into someone’s lap.

“Liam!” You said, greeting Eddie’s newest bandmate excitedly. Oh my God, you’d found Liam!

“You did find me, I was sitting right below you though,” Liam said, amused, “you okay?”

Not moving an inch, you stretched towards the fire and nodded. “Yeah, totally!” You realized he’d been mid conversation with a blonde girl and you thrusted your hand out. “Hi!”

Her green eyes crinkled with amusement and she shook your hand. “Nice to meet you again,” she said.

“You’re so pretty,” you told her.

Her cheeks went pink and she ducked her head, her leather jacket rustling with the movement. Robin, who’d ended up sprawled next to you nodded enthusiastically. “So pretty,” she agreed. “I love your fishnet tights.”

“It works really well with the outfit,” you added. “I would date the shit out of you.”

“Me too!” Robin laughed, falling half into you.

The girl, looking pleased and amused, laughed. “Munson, I like your friends. They’re good for my ego,” she said, helping you sit back up onto the log and squeezing your shoulder.

Eddie popped out of nowhere and you squealed. “Eddie!” You wrapped your arms around his and tugged him down towards you. God, he was so warm. “Where’d you come from? Have you met Liam and his pretty girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” he said, laughing lightly, “I have met Liam and Alianna.”

“I missed you,” you said softly, leaning your head onto his shoulder and closing your eyes. The fire had begun to spin and you felt the faintest nausea roll through your belly.

A few soft fingers danced across your cheek and pushed the hair out of your face. Eddie’s big brown eyes swam into your vision, steady and a little amused, and you grinned. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he said, fingers still at your cheek, “I missed you too.”

“That’s an understatement,” Liam laughed, his eyes on the two of you, and you watched Eddie lean down to punch his shoulder.

“Shut the fuck up, she’s drunk,” Eddie hissed.

You weren’t drunk, you thought, you’d barely had a cup of that acetone. “Good,” you said when his eyes were back on yours, “I’m a very miss-able person.”

“You are,” he nodded, eyes darting away from yours and glaring towards the man at your feet. “I was gone for about five minutes and it’s because I needed to grab you two these.” With a flourish, a pair of water bottles appeared from thin air.

Stumbling up to your feet, you felt your eyes widen as you gasped. “Oh my God, you’re magic.”

“Something like that,” Eddie said, helping Robin open hers.

“Where’s Steve?” You gulped down your water and managed to spill a bit onto your chin.

“Right here. Jesus, are you two drunker than when I left fifteen minutes ago? I found a few bags in case they puke on the way home.”

“I drank Liam’s beer,” Robin declared and you cheered, liking the beaming smile she sent your way. “Holy shit. Lightning look!”

Whirling around to follow her finger, Eddie’s hand came up quickly to steady you. Not able to find what Robin was clearing gasping at, you blinked at her. “What?”

“A bunny!”

You clasped your hands in front of your chest and shrieked. “A bunny!?” You loved bunnies! And dogs. And clouds. And snow!

Steve snorted. “I highly doubt-”

“Race you!” You screamed, shaking Eddie’s hand off and darting out into the trees.

Robin’s laughter and heavy footsteps followed you but she’d quickly veered to the left. You hesitated, hearing Eddie and Steve shout out your names.

“Fuck, they’re both fast. I’m closer to Rob – just, go – she can run across the field in a minute, hurry!” Steve’s voice echoed.

You gasped. They wanted to find the bunny first. Grinning, you felt the strength in your legs as you pumped your arms and sped off through the trees. You could see the field in your mind, feel the ball at your feet and the wall of defense you needed to get through before you got the goal.

With a well-practiced kick, a zing of pain shot through your leg when the rock cracked in two against the tree a few feet ahead.

“Holy shit,” Eddie said, hand clamping down painfully tight on your wrist. “You – you run really fast.”

“I’m a center forward,” you said, still jumping up and down a little at your successful goal, “did you see that? I scored!”

Eddie blinked at you. “What the hell are you talking about? Jesus you should’ve stopped after the fourth cup.”

You pouted, crossing your arms. “Eddie, didn’t you see me score?”

“Of course I did, who’d you score against? The bunny?”

Bunny? “What bunny?” You asked, tilting your head and stumbling when the motion made the world spin.

Eddie’s arm pulled you towards him so your back was to his chest and his arms cradled you.

“It’s dizzy in the woods,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “You have a bunny?”

At your wide-eyed look, Eddie tossed his head back and laughed. “You’re kind of hilarious, you know that?”

Obviously. “Duh.”

“Maybe we should walk back and tell everyone how you scored,” he said gently, tugging you forward.

That was a great idea! You thought, letting Eddie tug you back towards the flickering warm light. “Can you help me take off this jacket?” You asked him, feeling warm.

“Let’s keep it on,” Eddie said quickly, “it’s cold and you could get sick.”

“But I’m hot,” you whined, stomping your foot.

Eddie groaned. “Please? For me?” Ugh, those stupid eyes.

Conceding, you resumed walking and remembered. “Hey, the quarter is almost over,” you said, “the best employee is going to be picked soon.”

“I promise to bring you back some leftovers,” Eddie teased and you grinned.

Thinking on the cake you’d been dreaming of, you nodded. “If you win, bring me some cake okay? Pinky promise?”

Surrounded by Eddie’s laughter and his fingers hooked in yours, the lights from the party still swam in your vision, the ground felt more solid beneath you.

Suddenly, a memory shoved your smile aside and you frowned.

“It was all a joke.”

Eddie wasn’t to be trusted. He’d left you. He broke promises. He wasn’t going to bring you cake.

Upset, you stopped walking and looked to him. “Why?” Because that’s all you’d ever really wanted to know. Why had he done that to you?

“Why what? Why am I half carrying you back to the clearing? Because knowing you, you’d get lost trying to drunkenly run after a bunny in the woods,” he said with a laugh.

“No,” you grunted, pulling your arm out of his. The bubbly feeling in your chest was replaced with a soft, familiar, hurt. It radiated outwards, your skin crawled with it. “Why’d you do that to me? You really…hurt my feelings.”

“What are you talking about?” He asked, ducking his head to catch your gaze.

The way he softened his tone, his eyes warm and inviting, lured you in like a moth to a flame. “I hate that I still like the sound of your voice,” you said, annoyed at yourself and scrunching your nose. “You’re so pretty and it’s not fair. In math class I’d stare at you the whole period. Did you know that you stick your tongue out when you concentrate really hard?”

“What?”

“I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to kiss you.”

Looking stunned, Eddie blinked. “Am I?” He asked, looking confused and pleased. “Do you? Exactly how much have you had to drink?”

Ready to tell him all the ways you thought he was beautiful; you were interrupted by Steve’s voice. “What the hell is wrong with you guys?” He panted, out of breath. “I got Robin shoved back into my car. I think it’s best if we just crash at my place, it’s the closest. A few others need rides though.”

“I can drive her to yours,” Eddie offered quickly, hand coming up to your elbow.

Steve shrugged. “I can take her or you can just stay over too.”

Eddie frowned, looking unhappy. You poked at his cheek and giggled when he smiled down at you. “Are you…sure?”

“Dude, I helped keep your skin together while you bled out in her lap. Crashing on my sofa at almost five? in the morning,” Steve groaned and you giggled, “isn’t crossing any lines.”

Eddie turned back to you. “Come on Superstar, we’re going home,” he urged you forward. “We have a lot to talk about tomorrow morning.”

“Let’s take some more of the m’shine,” you whispered to Eddie, stumbling over roots. “That stuff is good.”

His laughter echoed in your bones and you smiled up at him. “I’ll make sure to tell Jared you said that.”

Fuck, you groaned, sharp pain digging into your skull and slapping your brain like the little bitch it was. “There go my corneas,” you hissed, clutching at your head.

Where the fuck were you? You glanced around and caught sight of a snoring Robin on the bed next to you. Steve’s house.

Flashes of last night came back to you and you groaned. What in the hell had possessed you to drink a whole ass cup of moonshine? You were going to kill Steve. Just come out with us, what’s the worst that could happen?

It took you about five minutes to talk yourself up to standing. You felt like you had the equilibrium of a baby deer as you darted into the bathroom across the hall. Locking the door and hurrying over to the toilet you realized you’d managed to change into the pajama set you kept in Steve’s guest room. Smiling, a fuzzy memory bubbled up and you remembered laughing so hard you cried when Robin had gotten her head stuck in her sweatpants while trying to change.

A loud whirring sound startled you to attention. As quickly as you could, you splashed your face and brushed your teeth to get the taste of last night’s events out your mouth.

Feeling mildly better, you grimaced when the light from the hallway reawakened your migraine. Squinting your eyes, you tried to stumble towards the noise coming from the kitchen in the hopes that someone was brewing coffee.

You were a few feet away from the swinging door when you heard your name. Freezing in place, you peeked through the circular window and watched Steve hand Eddie a mug.

“I don’t know dude…” Eddie said, “she looked pretty sad but I don’t understand…she said some stuff. I just want to talk to her.”

Steve sighed. “Listen, I promised her I wouldn’t take sides but you have to give her some space. She’s not good at – this wasn’t easy for her. Working with you, you gotta understand that right?”

You winced. What the fuck Steve? What the hell was unclear about ‘don’t speak about this ever?’

“Right…” Eddie said, still sounding unsure.

“I’m not judging you, it was a long time ago now, and people change but, she’s still hurt. She tries to hide it but-”

“She’s hurt?” The indignation in Eddie’s voice confused you. What the hell did he have to be mad about?

You heard Steve’s soft laughter. “Besides, you both looked pretty cozy to me last night. I see the way you look at her. She might be blind to it, but we’re not. Dustin definitely isn’t.”

Eddie sputtered, and you heard the nerves in his tone as he stumbled over his words. The instinct to defend yourself, to deny it, was so strong you had to grab the doorknob to keep you steady. You wanted to hear what Eddie had to say. Blind to what?

“That’s-”

“Dingus!” Robin’s voice cried, “Is that coffee I smell? God my head feels like fucking lead!”

She bumped into you, jarring your heads, and you both groaned at the same time.

“Sorry,” she moaned, “I didn’t hear you come out the bathroom. My brain is pounding.”

You did your best to look like you weren’t just eavesdropping on them and waved away her apologies. Robin shoved the doors and you followed suit.

Steve grinned, his eyes teasing over his mug of coffee and you knew you were going to pay for the shit you’d given him the last time you had to pick up him from a bar.

“So, let’s recap the night, shall we?”

Robin groaned and you stood in silence, sipping at your coffee, taking each teasing jab with a smile or scowl. Eddie’s arm brushed against yours as you sat at the kitchen island next to him and you jumped. He smiled, making room for you, and you mumbled your thanks. The memory of his arms wrapping around you in the woods flashed through your mind and you stiffened. Shit. Had you said anything embarrassing? Just be normal, be cool, you snapped at yourself.

Despite everything, you still felt Eddie’s eyes on you the whole morning.

This was weird. You were being weird.

And yet…you had still shrugged Eddie’s hoodie on over your shoulders this morning. The worn material was soft and warm.

There was absolutely no reason, aside from your clear temporary insanity, for you to be wearing it. In fact, you should’ve returned it to him the next day. But here you were. In your car, panicking about Eddie seeing you in it and scrambling to take it off. You had reached for it that morning without realizing that you had a whole shift with him.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” You muttered to yourself, pulling on your outer coat on and checking your hair.

In your defense, everything between you two seemed to have shifted after that night – after the party. Despite the fact that you couldn’t remember half of the night. Eddie had done a one eighty and spent most of his time being…well…nice to you. You were both still trying to win the dinner but, it was about making yourself look good rather than making Eddie seem lacking.

It’d been a whole five days and you hadn’t had a single homicidal thought once. That had to be a record; something of that caliber had to be documented.

So, because of all this – you’d yet to give back the sweater. He hadn’t asked you for it and you’d possibly taken advantage of that. Last night, you’d had a nightmare about Homecoming and it had been enough of a wake-up call that you’d become resolute in returning it to him today.

While you’d laid down the metaphorical pitchfork, your suspicion still lingered. You couldn’t help it at this point, it was in your nature.

“Hey,” you said, walking into the store.

Eddie whipped his head around to you and smiled. “Good morning, Lightning.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled when he shot you one of his stupid soft smiles. You weren’t sure if it was guilt from hoarding his sweater or a genuine effort at peace, but you pulled out the breakfast muffins you’d baked last night. Coming out to the counter, you hopped into the high chair and placed the second muffin onto the far left.

“Would it be presumptuous of me to assume that the second one is for me?” Eddie’s voice drifted over from the sci-fi section.

“It would be actually, that’s my second helping,” you said, hiding your smile as you turned to check the returns bin.

Eddie gripped his chest and pretended like he’d been shot. “You wound me, m’lady.”

With a light laugh, you shook your head and waved to the muffin. “You never eat breakfast and I made too many of them…”

His brown eyes softened, his hand coming out to cradle the baked good in his hands. “I can’t believe I’m finally worthy of a Lightning Special.”

Quirking a brow, you watched him take a big bite. He moaned around the food, your heart tripping over itself, and shook his head. “What the hell is a Lightning Special?”

“It’s what I call whatever you’d cooked. You’d always bring Steve or Robin some extras and I’d never admit it, but they always smelled amazing.”

“I would’ve given you some if you’d asked,” you mumbled, smirking when he shot you a disbelieving look. “I don’t know why you’ve got this idea I’m a gremlin or something. I’d like to think most people think I’m polite.”

Eddie snorted and you crumpled up your napkin to chuck at him. “Eddie! Fine, see if I ever bring you something else.”

“Oh, come on,” he said, rolling his eyes when you crossed your arms. With a dramatic flourish unique to Eddie, he walked over to your chair, bowed, and pressed a hand to his heart. “I’m so sorry your highness, can you ever forgive me?”

“Buy me a coffee on break and I’ll think about it.”

With a wide grin, he snapped his fingers. “Done!”

You hopped off the chair, your stupid vest getting stuck on the arm, and stumbled forward. Eddie’s hands steadied your arms and the both of you froze. Noses a few inches apart, you blinked up at him. “I-I’m stuck,” you stuttered, wincing when you heard your own voice. Mistaking your wince for pain, Eddie’s hand darted to the garment and freed you.

“Thanks,” you said, not able to look at him in the eye. Both of you awkwardly took a few steps back – Eddie’s hand coming up to the back of his neck.

“Right, yeah, no problem,” he stammered, walking back to the discarded muffin.

Not wanting the awkwardness to linger, shit – maybe you had gotten used to the ceasefire, you reached for his forearm and were struck by how warm he was. “I promise to bring you some of the baked stuff when I make them,” you said. Eddie’s eyes softened and you watched as they dipped, for a millisecond, down to your lips. Suddenly, it felt too hard to inhale properly.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said eventually.

The bell on the door rang and you both jumped apart. “Hi, welcome to Family Video,” you both said, a touch too loud. Amused, you shot him a look that he laughed at.

“Hi! I’m looking for Eddie – oh, hey Eddie,” a soft voice said. You glanced up and realized you faintly recognized the girl standing by the doors.

Eddie’s cheeks flushed and you blinked, surprised. The girl he was dancing with at the Hideout, your mind supplied. You watched her tuck a strand of inky shiny black hair behind her ear and you fought the urge to scowl.

Without any prodding, you pointed to Keith’s office. “Oh, I totally forgot I need something from there, right now,” you said, ushering yourself into his office before anyone could say anything.

Unsure of what to do, and definitely not wanting to touch anything, you sat on the edge of the chairs by his desk. God, Keith really needed to clean this room. Ew, was that a moldy sandwich?

Keeping the door ajar, you tried your best not to listen in but your mind wouldn’t shut off.

“Gareth said you wouldn’t mind, I swear I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t desperate,” she said, her voice too soft for you to hear anything after.

Eddie’s mumbled something. “-I owe you one.”

“Thank you so much! Can you pick me up around eight? I’ll wear the blue dress from the bar.”

“It’s a date.”

A date? Your heart stilled. Of course they were dating – she looked like his perfect match. Trying your best to ignore the sudden pressure in your chest, you looked around for something you could use as an excuse.

The bell to the front rang again and you shot up to your feet, anxiety ricocheting. Grabbing the first thing you saw, an empty folder on Keith’s desk, you walked out with your eyes on the ground.

“Oh, you just missed Clara,” Eddie said, “you met her at the bar last week.”

“Yeah?” You said, disinterested.

“She said to tell you that she’ll sell you her kidney if you give her the recipe for the muffins,” he said, smile growing.

Your eyes, however, darted to the muffin wrapper crumpled up on the counter. He’d given it to her? The knot in your throat grew and you nodded. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

Eddie’s brows furrowed and you just turned to the shelves. “Hot date?” You asked, like the masochist you were.

“You overheard?” Eddie asked with an anxious smile. Jesus, you cringed internally, did he need to be so in your face about it? “I’m a little nervous to go but, you know, at least this time I know I won’t be stood up. It’s all a joke anyway.”

Your blood froze. “What’d you just say?”

The front door rang again, Robin’s face coming into your peripheral as she yawned. “Hey guys,” she said, eyeing your clenched hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Did you really just say that to me?” You asked, a little disbelieving.

“Say what? That I might not be stood up?” He asked, confused.

It was getting hard to breathe, the anxiety bubbling up in your chest. You really couldn’t believe it - Eddie could be mean, rude, loud - but he was never cruel. You both had an unspoken rule never to talk about it, and he broke it.

Not able to keep the words down, they spilled out with vengeance. “Wow, you’re going to throw Homecoming back at my face now? After all this time?”

Eddie’s face morphed into confusion. “Homecoming? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Right,” you snorted, the painful memories floating to the surface. “I can’t believe I thought you’d changed. That you were actually going to be nice to me.”

“I am nice to you! What the fuck is going on?” He hissed.

Robin stepped up between you both, her hand coming up to you. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“He’s what’s wrong!” You blurted out, the tension of the last few weeks spilling out. “You know what you did to me – I thought we agreed never to talk about it. Wasn’t it embarrassing enough?”

“What I did to you?” Eddie half-shouted.

Robin shot him a hard look. “Everyone, let’s calm down for a second-”

“Good morning,” Keith’s voice boomed in the empty store. Steve walked in behind him, brows raised, as he caught onto the tension in the air.

Oblivious, Keith strode towards his office. “I just need to grab something I left. I will let you both know -- I’ve submitted my notes to the senior supervisor and we should have our first employee of the month by tomorrow!”

Feeling like you were underwater, you grounded yourself with Robin’s touch. “Hey, look at me, what happened? What did Eddie do?”

“Nothing! I’m the one who looked like an idiot that day!” Eddie hissed.

You stepped back, as if he’d struck you, and you realized Steve’s expression had turned thunderous.

“Hey, dude, that was uncalled for. I thought we talked about this,” he said, moving to stand by your side.

“Talk about what?” Robin asked again.

“Ask him,” you said, pointing to Eddie. Turning to the back room, you scrambled to get your things, tears making your vision swim.

As you stalked back out, you saw Robin holding Steve back by the arm. Bypassing them both, you turned to Eddie, anger coming off you in waves. “I can’t believe you,” you snapped at him, “you - you can’t just joke about that night. Wasn’t it enough that you just fucking left me there? You knew how much I liked you. I can’t do this anymore. Hey Keith? I don’t want the dinner. Eddie and his date deserve it.”

Without looking back, you slammed the door open and all but peeled out the parking lot. The grip on your steering wheel was so tight you were sure you’d have bruises. As you made you way home, you let your mind wander back to that night.

“Just go ask him!” Anne urged you, her eyes sparkling. “Look, he’s alone right now!”

Your fingers fluttered nervously around the hem of your shirt. “But what if he laughs at me?”

“He won’t!”

“You don’t know that!”

Anne huffed exaggeratedly. “Oh my God, just go ask him!” She shoved you into the room and darted away like the traitor she was.

Eddie looked up, surprised at the sound of someone else in the room. When he saw it was you, his smile bloomed. Your stomach fluttered, anxiety doubling. You’d only recently started talking to each other, after your biology project together last semester.

“Hey you,” Eddie said, dropping the papers in his hand onto the table. “What are you doing here?”

Sputtering, you stumbled over your words. “Hi. I – uh-”

“Are you joining the dnd club?” Eddie asked incredulously.

“No – hey, wait why’d you say it like that?” You crossed your arms, nervousness forgotten for a moment.

Eddie’s hands shot up, brows smoothing. “I didn’t say it like anything!”

“I could be here for dnd,” you insisted, not sure why you felt so indignant about it.

“Are you?” Eddie asked after a beat.

Clearing your throat, you tried to hide your embarrassment. “Well, no…”

“I knew it!” He said, grinning smugly. “What can I do for you fair maiden?”

You watched Eddie go back to setting up for his campaign. Glancing at the time, you realized if you were going to ask him – you had to ask him now. Before any of his friends showed up. Besides, if he rejected you then you had all weekend to sulk about it.

“Um, are you going to the Homecoming dance?”

Eddie snorted and your heart sunk. “It’s Sadie Hawkins this year. Who’s going to ask me?” He said, completely unselfconsciously.

“Oh.”

His eyes turned towards yours and he blinked, surprised by what he found. “Are you...wait, are you asking if I’m going or asking if I’ll go with you?”

“I-I…” You wrung your hands together, anxiety bubbling. Maybe you should just leave…you could lie and tell Anne that he said he wasn’t going. Surely the girls wouldn’t force you to try again.

Something shifted in Eddie’s gaze and you suddenly felt a surge of courage in your chest. Squaring your shoulders, you nodded to yourself.

“Eddie Munson,” you said, “will you go to the Homecoming dance with me?”

After a beat of silence, Eddie’s blank expression morphed into a wide smile. “Really?”

“I…I really like you,” you admitted, mortification softening at the sight of his grin growing even wider. “I’d like to go with you. If you want to go with me.”

Eddie blinked.

“Eddie?” You asked, stepping closer when he didn’t answer.

He jolted, as if he’d been shocked and bobbled his head furiously. “Oh, yeah – definitely, like fucking absolutely.”

You brought your hand up to hide your laughter at his half-screamed reply. “Okay, um, cool,” you said, scuffing your cleats onto the linoleum floor.

“Do you wanna meet in the parking lot?” You asked. “Before the dance?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, still staring at you a little incredulously. You smiled at him and watched as the red flush traveled down his neck.

“Okay, um, so I’ll see you later?” You asked as you heard faint footsteps coming towards the room.

Eddie straightened. “Yeah, I’ll see you Monday.”

With a grin, you waved awkwardly and darted out the room. Before you could fully let the door close, you heard Eddie’s loud ‘yessss!’

Not able to keep in your laugh, you rushed over to the doors and saw Anne leaning against the frame.

“So?” She asked, perking up.

Grinning, you threw an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. “I owe you a milkshake.”

Anne squealed and you laughed, following her towards your bikes.

--

“I don’t understand, you talked to him two days ago right?” Anne asked, her hands fluttering nervously. Her date, Mark, looked just as anxious. The dance had started an hour ago and upon not seeing you inside, Anne had come looking for you.

“Yeah,” you said, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “He kissed me on the cheek and said he couldn’t wait. I told him what color my dress was going to be – h-he said his uncle told him that was important.”

“Maybe something happened,” Mark added, eyes wide. “Like an emergency?”

Not having thought of that, you straightened. Anne’s hand almost knocked you in the face as she pointed towards a couple walking towards the doors. “That’s his friend, right? The one he plays with? Go ask him! Aw shit, I forgot my bag on the table. I’ll be right back.”

You whirled around to look at where she’d pointed and hurried over to him. His date, a pretty girl in red, tugged on his hand as you made your way over.

“Hi, um, Jeff right?”

“Yeah,” he said gruffly, eyes glaring. “What do you want? He’s not here.”

Confused, you took a few steps back. “I know – I wanted to ask you if you knew where he was? I’ve been waiting-”

“He knows, okay?” Jeff said with a sneer. “He knows what you did.”

“What I did?” You asked, not sure what he was talking about. Jeff’s eyes drifted over your shoulder to where Mark stood at a distance.

Jeff’s eyes hardened. “It was all a joke – a stupid joke. I can’t believe you even showed up.”

Your heart plummeted to your feet. A joke? He’d accepted as a joke? But Eddie…he couldn’t have…

“Go back to your real date and do us a favor and stay away,” Jeff warned, walking past you and heading inside.

Frozen to the spot, you felt the tears spill over as a hand wrapped around your wrist. Anne’s frown swam into your blurry vision and she shook you. “What happened? Mark, what happened? What’d he say?”

“I need to call…I need to call your sister. Would she come pick me up?”

“Jesse? Yeah, she would. But what happened?”

Not able to speak past the lump in your throat, you burst into tears and Anne’s nervous hands fluttered over you. “Okay, okay – Mark, go call my sister. Tell her she needs to come back now.”

It was all a stupid joke. Of course, he didn’t want to come to some stupid dance. Not with you.

You called out of work for the week. At this point, you didn’t care if Keith fired you.

For the first few days, like clockwork, Steve and Robin took turns calling your house. Your sister had made it her job to speed to the phone before your mom, letting them know that you were sick and couldn’t come to the phone. She’d been too little to remember your middle school Homecoming but, you promised you’d make it up to her.

On the third day of your self-imposed quarantine, your mom brought you up some lunch midday. “You know,” she said quietly, her hand coming out to rub your calf. “The supermarket was looking for someone to work morning shifts. It’d give you enough time until you start your semester next year.”

“Thanks mom,” you said quietly, still wrapped in your comforter. “I’ll check it out.”

With a soft sigh, she pressed a kiss to your forehead and nodded. “I’m here if you want to talk.”

On the fourth day, you finally decide that you’ve moped for long enough. This was something you needed to move on from. How pathetic to still be upset over something that had happened in middle school?

Except it mattered to you, your mind added helpfully, because you really like him.

“Shut up,” you hissed at yourself.

“We didn’t say anything yet,” a voice behind you said.

Squealing in surprise, you instinctively threw the socks you’d been folding at the sound. The cotton bundles bounced off Robin’s chest and you brought your hand up to your face. “Jesus fucking Christ, you scared the shit out of me.”

Robin rolled her eyes and walked into your room like she always did. Steve, a little sheepishly, waved and sat by your desk.

“How did you get inside?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“Your mom when she was leaving for work,” Steve said, shooting Robin a look.

“I live a house down, I can see that you haven’t left yet,” Robin huffed. “Keith has us all on double shifts until you’re back Sunday, the least you could do is look happy to see us.”

“Well,” you grumbled, “I’m busy.”

“Super busy,” she said, motioning to the laundry on your bed.

“Robin…”

Her indignant expression softened. “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you both hated each other over some stupid high school clique stuff.”

“To be fair I didn’t tell anyone.”

Robin’s arm shot out too fast for Steve to avoid it. He grunted as her knuckles hit his sternum. “You told Dingus!”

“To be fair, I was drunk and a little stressed post-Vecna win,” you turned to Steve for corroboration and he nodded.

“She was,” he snorted, “she puked in my mom’s rosebush.”

A flash of that night echoed in your mind. You winced. Jesus, you really needed to stay away from tequila. “I don’t want to talk about it,” you told Robin, “I asked Keith to keep me on closings. Just for a while.”

“You both can’t avoid each other forever. Eddie-”

Not wanting to hear his name, you put up your hand. “I don’t want to talk about it!”

Robin huffed. “But he said-”

“I don’t care what he said! He can date whoever he wants to date! This is such a stupid thing to be upset over anyway. I’m over it. It’s ancient history.”

You could see Robin turn to Steve. Catching his gaze with yours, you watched his eyes soften at whatever he found. God, you must look really pathetic if Steve looked like he wanted to wrap you in a blanket and hide with you. He shook his head. “Leave it alone Rob.”

She sighed, exasperated. “We can’t let this go on like this Harrington. They have to talk it out!”

“Robin.”

She sighed and flopped down onto the bed. “Fine. You’re both idiots.”

“Thank you,” you said, reaching out to squeeze her hand. Robin frowned but let you change the subject to Keith’s newest blubber.

You’d made it an entire week of shifts without running into Eddie. Robin still grumbled when his name was brought up but she kept her word and let it go. Or so you’d thought.

Honestly, you should’ve known better. She was like a dog with a bone.

“Hey,” Robin bounded up to you as you locked the front doors. “Wanna see if we can catch the last of the festival?”

Checking your watch, you frowned. “We’re not going to make it. Doesn’t it close at eleven?”

“Yeah, but some rides stay open a little later. It takes a while for everyone to clear. Besides, it’s only in town for a few more days!”

You turned to Steve, who was swinging his keys around his fingers. He shrugged, his expression a little too casual. “We could pass by on the way home. I don’t mind.” Considering he was your ride, you nodded.

“Sure?”

It took you three another thirty minutes before you were all in Steve’s BMW, cruising down towards Waverly.

The entire park was dark, only a few rides lighting up what was clearly a deserted clearing. Robin, not one to ever be deterred, hopped out the car. “I think the Ferris Wheel is still on! Let’s see if we can grab some funnel cake.”

“Go ahead, I’ll follow,” Steve said, motioning towards a quickly disappearing Robin.

Wincing at the dark. “Am I the only one who’s retained a healthy fear of what hides in the dark after all our escapades?”

Steve huffed a laugh. “I don’t think Russians are hiding in there. Go on, you’re gonna lose her,” he nodded towards a bouncing Robin.

Hopping out the car, she beamed and immediately started towards the rides.

“Robin, I think the festival is closed now,” you huffed, trying not to lose her from your sight. She barreled forward, quick, and you were struggling to keep up.

“They said some rides stay open late,” she insisted, turning a corner.

Grunting, you jogged to catch up. “Jesus, what is the hurry-” your voice trailed off as you caught sight of the only illuminated ride. Robin was standing off to the side, her expression apologetic.

Eddie stood by carousel, his hands tucked into his pockets and his shoulders up by his ears.

“No,” you said, already turning around to head back towards Steve’s car. Robin’s hand caught you quickly, her grip surprisingly tight. “Is this a prank? Do you guys think this is a joke?” You asked Robin, feeling beyond hurt this time.

“Hey, no,” she said quickly arms coming to yours. “I wouldn’t do that to you, I swear. You know me.”

You did. Robin didn’t have a mean bone in her body.

“Just, hear him out? You don’t need to forgive him but he’s got an explanation. A stupid one,” she said loudly, and you watched as Eddie winced, “but I think you need to hear it to move on from all of this.”

“Robin…”

“Yeah, I’m not buying your whole – it was middle school, I’m over it, bullshit. Please? I’m going to be over there with Steve probably eavesdropping if you need me or want to leave at any moment,” she said, “Steve said he’s open and ready to punch anyone you need him to.”

“I punch harder than Steve,” you said, crossing your arms.

“Dustin punches harder than Steve,” Robin said, “it’s the thought that counts.’

You rolled your eyes, tears building at the corners. Glancing back to Eddie, you nodded. “Okay.”

Catching sight of Gareth, he waved weakly at you. Lifting a hand back, you ignored Eddie’s hand and climb up the steep stairs by yourself. “What’s he doing here?” You asked Eddie, your first words to him since that day in at the store.

“He’s doing me a favor and keeping it open for a little while later. I know you said you had wanted to come here,” Eddie explained, nodding towards Gareth who had moved towards the control station. You climbed into a carriage instead of a horse and sat.

Eddie, for a moment, looked like he was going to sit next to you but the withering glare you sent his way gave him pause. Instead, he made his way towards the horse next to your carriage and awkwardly stood by the pole.

“How long is this ride?” You asked.

“Three minutes.”

You checked your watch. “You’ve got three minutes Munson. What the hell is so important you orchestrated all this to get me here?”

He opened his mouth and you felt your anger flare all over again. “You know you really have some nerve,” you huffed, not letting him speak.

Eddie sighed. “Lightning-”

“-don’t call me that! I can’t believe you’d-”

“-I’ve been in love with you since middle school!” He shouted over you, chest heaving.

Shocked into silence, you felt your eyes widen and watched Eddie as his skin flushed.

“You were the nicest seventh grader I had ever met,” Eddie started, his voice straining to be louder than the music. “You were the star of the soccer team, fast as lighting. Anytime someone was mean to me, or my friends, you were always the first to come to my defense. You never said anything about my nail polish, our club, about the band t-shirts, or the shaved head.”

Eddie took a deep breath. “When we were sophomores and they announced that the Homecoming was going to be a Sadie Hawkins theme, I was crushed. It was the first dance we were allowed to attend and I had spent the entire first semester determined to finally ask you to go,” he said and ran a hand through his hair.

“I thought, there’s no way you’ll ask me. We’d done that project together but after all that time, I didn’t even think you knew my name. Then, that day afterschool, you came up to me and asked me to the dance. I couldn’t believe it. I think I must’ve told Wayne about it like a hundred times that week. He’d worked a few extra shifts to get me my first suit. I wanted everything to be perfect. Then, a week before the dance, Gareth and Jeff had overheard the soccer team talking about you betting over your dates to the Homecoming dance.”

Your brows furrowed and Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’d decided I was going to confront you – because, there was no way you’d made a bet. You were nice – you wouldn’t do that. I had barely gotten to the field when I heard your friends mention how it was all a joke. ‘I can’t believe she took the bet to ask Eddie out to the dance,’ they all laughed and I got pissed. I wanted to find you and call you out on it.”

What? Why the hell would your team say that?

“Eddie, I-” He held up a hand and you frowned.

“Before I could find you, I ran into Brittney. Who, after realizing I was looking for you, told me that you’d never meant it. That it had all been a joke. So, as a completely and utterly heartbroken fifteen-year-old, I avoided you after that. You’d slipped that note into my locker about meeting me in the parking lot before the dance and I couldn’t believe you’d be so…well, cruel. I stayed home the entire night, playing video games with Gareth and Liam. You never said anything the next day after the dance, Jeff didn’t either – he says he’s sorry by the way - then you started dating the men’s soccer captain so I assumed…”

What the fuck?

“Wait Brittney?” You asked, confused, he nodded. You briefly remembered how much she’d hated you. “Brittney Johnson told you I had been joking? That bitch.” Oh my God, you were going to fucking strangle her the next time you saw her. Eddie looked more confused at your outburst but you urged him to continue.

“While I managed to avoid you successfully, you were always in my peripheral and you’re so fucking beautiful it hurt. So, when you popped up in the shack at Rick’s house with everyone else, it was just the safer option with what was going on to fall into the constant arguing. You argued back so I thought, this was safe. We could both let stupid high school shit go?

Then…well…you believed me. When I told you about Chrissy – when we went back down there, you fought next to me. You were there when I woke up,” Eddie cleared his throat, eyes flashing.

“Then the whole best employee thing happened and uh, then it became apparent to me that maybe you had a different recollection of that week.”

Holy shit. You rubbed your temple as a headache bloomed at the base of your skull. You’d realized that the ride had long been over, both of you facing the lit Ferris Wheel.

Rubbing the tension building in your temples, you nodded. “Uh yeah. My friend Molly - the only other freshman on the team, had been bet by the other junior girls on the team that she wouldn’t ask out her crush, Teddy - a junior. She asked and he accepted but everyone was worried he’d find out it was a bet because they actually liked each other. That had nothing to do with me. Brittney was a jealous bitch because I'd managed to get captain over her and she knew how much I liked you,” you thought back to all those times in the locker room you’d spent with Jessica urging you to ask Eddie to the dance. “I'm going to rake her fucking eyes out,” you said to yourself.

Eddie blinked, looking dumbstruck. “So what you’re saying is that I stood you up for no reason. Because I’m an idiot?”

“An eavesdropping idiot,” you said through a disbelieving smile. “Although, to be fair, having Brittney confirm it for you probably didn't help. You should've...come to me. I don't - I didn't think you thought I was capable of something like that.”

“Right,” Eddie said faintly.

A little hurt, you kicked at the edge of the carriage you sat in. “I wouldn’t have done something like that – to anyone. I don’t… know why you thought I would’ve. I always saw how people treated you and hated it. I never let anyone on either soccer team mess with you or your friends. Even after...I was so excited to go with you - I thought you were really cool and sweet.”

“Sweet?”

The memory of the first time you’d talked to Eddie floated up to the front of your mind. “Yeah. After what you did in seventh grade…”

“What?”

You sighed. “I tripped in gym class and smacked my head into the goal post. I was mortified but you took me to the nurse’s office and stayed with me the entire period. You told jokes and made me laugh. I don’t know, I always sought you out afterwards. Besides, you know,” you said pointedly. You didn’t want to say it – he had to know.

He took a step forward, as if that would draw it out of you. “I really don’t and even if I did, I’ve had enough assumptions to last a lifetime.”

Not able to keep it to yourself, and tired of the misunderstandings, you shrugged. “You’re beautiful Eddie, how could I not have a crush on you? I thought…you did too until I was standing at the dance, in my new dress, with your friends letting me know you weren’t coming. That you’d never taken my offer seriously. Because who would want to go with some stupid jock?”

Eddie smiled before groaning and clutching at his temple. “Oh my god, I’m a fucking idiot.”

You shrugged, the lump in your throat growing. What a fucking mess. “Listen, its history, at this point. We had a massive misunderstanding, for years, and now we’ve cleared it up. I promise to try and stay out of your way-”

“No,” Eddie said quickly, “I don’t - I like being friends.”

“Is that what we were? Have we ever been?”

Hurt flashed across his face before he ducked his head and scuffed his shoe against the metal. “Do you think we could-”

“No,” you said quickly, your walls coming back up.

You had officially given up on this. This, whatever this was, between you two was too difficult to try and make work.

“Right,” Eddie nodded, eyes on the horse to your left, “that was a stupid question, sorry.”

Feeling the urge to comfort him, you clenched your hands into fists. “I’m not - I’m just, it’s a lot to process. I need to get my head on straight for Spring semester. I’m starting school and it’s been a lot with everything going on. I just…I need time. Maybe we can be friends for once.”

Eddie nodded dumbly, his eyes following you as you stood and made your way towards the steps. You turned to him and ask. “Why the festival?”

A ghost of a smile twitched at his lips. “You said you’ve been dying to go but had closing shifts almost all month. I thought, I might as well.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “I’ll…see you later.”

“Yeah, right,” he ducked his head and waved his hand. You stumbled towards the red BMW waiting for you in the parking lot.

“So…” Steve started. He grunted when Robin smacked him. “What? We're just going to sit in silence and pretend we didn't all hear that?”

Robin turned to look at you. “I'll egg Brittney's house with you if you want.”

Steve perked up. “Holy shit yeah, her brother is a piece of shit.”

You smiled, touched by their offer. “Let's just go to your house Harrington, you promised me a movie night.”

Steve huffed. “Does this mean you two are finally going to stop attacking each other?”

“Or that maybe you'll go on a date with him?” Robin perked up.

“Robin.”

“What? Like you weren't wondering the same thing!”

“I always knew he liked you,” Steve said.

“Yeah okay,” you snorted, finally joining in the conversation.

Robin laughed with you. “I did!” He insisted. “You should see the way he looks at you. It’s like he comes alive when you walk into a room.”

Your heart stumbled and you sighed.

“Dingus! You’re not making this any easier!”

“She asked!”

You let their bickering fade into the background, your conversation with Eddie swirling around in your mind.

“So,” Steve said, dragging out the vowels.

You glanced at him from where you were using his mom’s fancy mixing bowl for the cake you were baking. El had shyly asked you for the chocolate cake you’d made last year for Max’s birthday. Not one to ever say no to El, you’d set up camp at Steve’s.

Watching him struggle to figure out what to say, you sighed.

“Spit it out, Steven.”

“That’s not my name,” he grumbled, running a hand through his hair, “now that we’ve all sort of put this whole Homecoming business behind us – I was thinking-”

Steve’s voice faded out as you thought back to the past week. It’d been incredibly awkward for the first few days, both you and Eddie avoiding each other as much as you could. On the third day, your regular shared morning shift, he’d brought you a coffee from your favorite bakery. The ice hadn’t completely melted, but it was warming up.

“Hey, are you even listening to me?”

Blinking away your busy thoughts, you shot Steve an apologetic look. “Sorry Steve, what’d you say?”

“I was saying,” he huffed, “since we’re all over this now, how’d you feel about going on a date?”

“What?” You said, completely taken aback.

Steve shrugged. “The girl I’m seeing asked me if I was interested in a double date. Her best friend, Sam I think, said he was up to it. I was going to say no but…thought maybe you’d want to?”

“I don’t know Steve,” you started.

“I just wanted to ask, especially considering that it’s been almost two years since you broke up with that meathead,” Steve snorted.

Rolling your eyes, you shot him a look over your shoulder. “You were friends with that meathead. It makes you a meathead adjacent.”

“I- don’t appreciate having my past drudge up that way,” Steve said, crossing his arms. You huffed a laugh.

“Where are you going?”

“Osteria da Fortuna,” Steve said, shrugging. “You and Eddie forfeited the dinner. I’m pretty sure it’s going to Robin who said she’d give it to me if I would go with her to a band party. I think her and Vicki might finally be going somewhere. Did she tell you about-”

You waved your wooden spoon in the air, effectively stopping Steve’s rambling. “What?” You said, some of the batter splattering onto the kitchen counter. “Did you just say Eddie forfeited the dinner?”

Steve frowned. “Yeah, like a week ago.”

“What.”

Why the hell would he do that? You know why, a tiny voice inside your head said.

With a narrowed glance in your direction, Steve groaned. “Are you really not going to give him a chance?”

Not this again. “Steven.”

“Okay, hear me out,” he put his hand up, “I know. I know you’re hurt that he thought you’d be the type of person to prank him over Homecoming. I know you’re annoyed at this whole mess that could’ve been cleared up if both of you had managed to get your heads out of your asses earlier. But you didn’t.”

“I-”

Steve waved his hand. “Eddie was…is not everyone’s favorite. You know that. You’ve seen how the people we thought were our friends treated the people they thought weren’t worth it. He was fifteen. Are you that stubborn that you’re going to hold onto this from over five years ago? We’ve been through so much since then.”

“I don’t know,” you said, uncertain.

“Don’t kill me but, I think you’re holding on to this hurt because you’ve realized it’s easier. It’s always been easier to hate him, to do your little bickering thing. It’s easier to keep him at a distance because if you never let him in close again you won’t get hurt. But it’s been this long, you’ve both dated other people, and you both haven’t moved on. What does that say?”

You frowned. “That we’re stubborn immature idiots?”

“Yes and?”

You blinked.

Steve sighed. “You’re both so obviously into each other. Even when you’d fight, it was like foreplay or something. You both believed you had the right reasons to hate the other but you’ve both been hung up on each other. That means something. That’s not nothing.”

Letting Steve’s words sink in, you realized that he was right. Even when Eddie thought you’d pranked him, he’d always stuck by you. In the Upside Down, after every earthquake, he’d reached for you – arms steadying you as you fought your panic attacks.

He’d let you use his leather jacket when you were shivering from the lake water. He made sure you went through the gate first, his steady hands on your hips as you climbed. He’d made you eat a sandwich while you were all waiting for the party to get back from the gun store.

“Coming down from adrenaline is a bitch, trust me,” he said, nudging the milkshake in your direction.

He dove for you when the bats attacked, his body curled around yours as you both tried to buy your friends more time.

You thought of Eddie in the hospital bed, your hands interlocked. The way the dread in your chest wouldn’t lift until you saw his eyes open. Until you knew he’d make it through.

Jesus Christ, you still liked him. And you were doing what you always did. You were pushing him away. Even after he’d apologized and you hadn’t. Even after everything.

“Fuck you Harrington,” you said, standing and grabbing your keys off the table.

Steve’s eyes widened at your sudden departure. “Where are you going?”

“To the store!”

Barely taking a moment to lock your car, you stomped into Family Video. As usual for Thursday mornings, it was dead. Eddie was draped across the counter as Jeff and Eddie talked to him animatedly.

Slamming the door open, all three of them jumped and turned in your direction. Dustin, seeing your thunderous expression, darted away from the counter as you stormed up to it.

“What the fuck Munson?”

Eddie blinked at you, eyes wary. “Um?”

“Why the fuck would you forfeit the dinner?” You hissed, seeing Robin’s head pop out from behind the Comedy shelves.

“Because it wasn’t right,” Eddie stammered, “I didn’t want you to give it to me.”

“Are you serious?”

Eddie’s nervous expression morphed into indignation. “What did you want me to do? Go and enjoy it when you basically handed it to me?”

Throwing an arm out, you felt a headache starting. “Isn’t that what we’ve been fighting over? For almost two months!?”

“It didn’t feel right!” Eddie insisted.

What the hell did that mean? “Munson.”

Annoyance flashed across his expression. “I’m not – I don’t – I wanted to go with you. Okay?  Every time I picture the stupid fancy Italian restaurant all I do is think of you. Everything all the time always reminds me of you. It reminds me of your stupid smile, the stupid way you give me shit for everything, the way the scent of your stupid shampoo is engraved into my brain,” he shouted, “going alone would be pathetic. At least Steve will get some use out of it.”

Your brain slowed. Your shampoo? Shaking your head, you got back to the point. The idea of that dinner going to anyone but one of you felt wrong. “Go with someone else, the grunge girl.”

Eddie looked like he wanted to throw something at you. Livid, his eyes flashed. “She doesn’t matter. That ‘date’ we were going on was her ex-boyfriend’s wedding. She was invited and didn’t want to go alone.”

Ignoring the way that made your heart flip, you crossed your arms and gave into the petty feeling swelling in your chest. “Well, I saw you two at the bar. Clearly, there’s something there.”

Eddie’s hands shot up into the air, exasperated. “I wanted to make you jealous! She knew, she was in on it. That night at the bar, she was teasing me about how into you I was – because even she could tell. Everyone else besides you is painfully insignificant. Okay? You’re the only one that matters. Since I was twelve. I’m pretty sure the reason me and Amy broke up junior year is because even she could tell I was gone on you. Give me more than a week to try and get over that.”

Taken aback by his sudden confession, and unable to ignore that, your arms dropped to your sides. “Are you…trying to get over me?”

Eddie shot you contemptuous look. “Well, considering that I didn’t realize I was the asshole that stood you up all those years ago and you’ve hated me since then and the likelihood of you ever loving me back is close to nothing, yeah, Lightning, I’m trying to get over you. So, excuse me, if I don’t want to go to a stupid fucking restaurant and think of you the entire time.” His chest heaved like he’d just run a race and all you could think of is how much you wanted to kiss him.

“You love me?” You echoed, like a broken record.

“Oh my god, is that all you heard?” Eddie started a verbal rampage, his arms flinging around for emphasis. As you watched his animated speech, you realize how stupid this whole thing was. Steve was right. You were so used to being guarded, to the traumatic events that seemed to never end after Starcourt, that you were pushing away something important. Something that could good, and you were risking it over your own stupid fear.

This was it, you thought, the second chance you’d always secretly hoped you’d get despite your anger and hurt. You weren’t going to let this one slip away too.

Before Eddie could start on another tirade, you grabbed the edges of his vest, hauled him across the counter, and towards you.

For a beat, you could feel his confusion radiating off of him. You pulled him tighter to you, your tongue tracing the seam of his lips. As if struck, he surged forward to meet you, his own arms coming up to your forearms. He whined as you softly bit into his bottom lip before pulling back.

“Fucking finally!” Dustin cheered. Jeff shushed him.

Eddie, on the other hand, looked dazed as his eyes darted around your face. “Please tell me you aren’t messing with me.”

“I don’t know about love just yet,” you said quietly, “but, take me to dinner and we’ll talk.”

Eddie blinked twice before a slow grin grew on his face. “Italian restaurant? Tonight at eight? I heard some place called Osteria something is meant to be great.”

“I thought you forfeited it to Keith,” you said, laughing when he vaulted over the counter and settled his arms around your waist. He pulled you into another kiss and, this time, snipped at your lip. You couldn’t hold back the shiver it caused. The mischievous glint in his eyes let you know that he’d noticed. “Shut up.”

“I’ll give it back to you two!” Robin said eagerly, her eyes lighting up.

Eddie, without taking his eyes off of you, pointed in Robin’s general direction. “I’m naming my first born after you Buckley.”

Robin snorted. “Hear that, Lightning? Your first kid’s my namesake.”

Eddie flushed, his neck turning a little splotchy. “That’s not what I meant.”

With a swift, quick kiss, you couldn’t help but place a second kiss to his neck. You watched in fascination as his jaw clenched. “I mean, there’s no harm in practicing,” you teased, smiling when Eddie groaned and dropped his forehead to your shoulder.

“You’re killing me Superstar.” Eddie lifted his head after a beat, his eyes catching yours. “So, what do you say?”

You watched his eyes dart around your face, as if committing this moment to memory, and you let your own hand trail a line across his stubble. He leaned into your touch, his lips coming to kiss your palm. Your heart fluttered, threatening to break free from your chest. Steve was never going to let you live this down. But, as Eddie ducked down to catch your gaze, you raised yourself up higher to catch his lips a third time. That was going to get addicting quick.

“It’s a date, Munson.”

AN: I am so sorry the ending is so weak lmao but I had the first 75% of it in my drafts for months. It was starting to haunt me.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson

[444rockstargf]

so happy your requests are open tbfh, could you write something (for euro, he is so MEEEEOOWWW) about reader being a sibling of one of the other band members and they hate each other and then SEX!!

thats as specific as i can get i fear 😭 i love your work so much thanks for your time girl!!

thank you for the request babe! (this is absolutely scrumptious.)

"big, bad, naughty rock star." | euronymous

big bad wolf. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @vanlisbon @livingdead-reilly @oliviah-25 @lankysimp@auggiethecreator @livingdead-materialgirl @monkeyfart @imoonkiss @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt

female!reader x r!euronymous

word count: 1.6k

contents: brother's best friend type relationship, tension, drinking, unprotected p in v, implications of masturbation, creampie, overstimulation, not proofread!!!

heavy metal music tore through the thin walls of your house, the noise from the basement sounding as deafening as ever from your bedroom. you were lying on your bed, eyes closed as vibrations filled your body.

you groaned, rolling off your bed as the pounding sensation in your head grew more intolerable by each passing second. truth be told, you had no problem with death metal. your brother was into it, so that automatically meant that it would rub off on you. but what you didn’t like was attention-hungry guitarists who didn’t know when to give the ear-piercing riffs a break.

you stormed down two flights of stairs, making your way to the source of the racket. you swung open the door, causing the music to come to an immiediate halt and all eyes to turn to you. euronymous’, or rather oystein’s gaze caught your eye first. it was icy and cold and bitter like the depths of the arctic.

you placed your hands on your hips, your friendly eyes turning to slits as you met his glare. “can you animals keep it down in here? i’d hate to fall asleep to your music and suddenly wake up in the pits of hell.” jan axel, your brother, smirked at your comment with a little chuckle. “no problem. we’d hate to interrupt your beauty sleep.” you swatted him off, turning and walking away from the atmosphere.

you felt a pair of predatory eyes on you the entire time, probably studying you. you had shown up in a lacy camisole top, tiny black shorts and white thigh-high socks with little pink bows on them, an outfit that would now be engraved in euronymous’ mind for the rest of time. he watched you walk up the stairs as his band continued playing, watching your ass jiggle with each step you took.

then he turned to your brother.

“why the fuck do you let her walk all over you like that? she bitches and whines like a goddamn 12 year old.” jan scoffs. “c’mon man, that’s my little sister. and you know she’s 18. you were even at that big birthday party of her’s, remember?”

oh yes, he remembered. the night you got blackout drunk and tried to lead him on, leading to a very sloppy hookup that also happened to be the night he lost his virginity, to you. but you didn’t remember any of this, and that was probably for the best. so all you viewed him as was that weird guy that hung out with your brother. 

euronymous rubbed a hand over his face. “she’s a fuckin’ brat, dude. and she dresses like a damn hooker. you can’t just let her do whatever the hell she wants around here. one way or another, it’ll ruin our band.” jan brushed him off. “whatever, man. she’s her own person. she’s a woman, so it’d be pretty fucked up for me to be bossing her around.” he flipped over his sheet music. “from the top.”

euronymous placed his guitar on it’s stand. “i’m grabbing a beer.” he muttered, making his way to the stairs and bolting up them. that’s when he saw you in the kitchen, squirting whipped cream into your mouth from the can. he felt heat pooling in his core from the sight. “oh, fuck me…” he muttered under his breath, making you turn your head to him.

“the grumpy old troll crawled out of his cave, hm?” you taunted. he rolled his eyes, spitting back a snarky response. “why don’t you crawl back into whatever fairytale you lept out from.” you snarled, the expression on your face making euronymous’ knees weak. you opened the fridge, putting the whipped cream back and grabbing a bottle of beer. the last one.

you started heading back to your room until you felt a calloused hand grip your wrist, pulling you back. “i was gonna take that.” his eyes bored into your soul, but you put on a fake-pout. “well that’s too bad.” you licked around the tip of the bottle, claiming your territory in attempt to disgust him enough to leave you alone. but his pupils dilated when he saw your pink tongue smear saliva across the bottle, awakening something primal in him.

you hopped up the stairs, giving him a view of your legs in such innocent yet provocative clothing. without thining, he followed you up, walking into your room behind you and pinning you to the door by your chest. your eyes widened as the door shut behind you, your heart hammering inside of your chest.

“what the hell are you doing, oystein? jan would murder you if he saw you doing this.” euronymous didn’t have anything to say to that, so his mouth gaped open slightly as he studied your features. you looked like if your brother was crossed with a cute little child’s doll. your eyes shimmered with intense emotion, and he imagined what they’d look like as they rolled to the back of his head while he fucked you. 

he watched the top of your breasts rise and fall with each heavy breath you took, feeling a very familiar sensation in his jeans. one that he always felt whenever he saw you. he shook himself back to reality, plucking the beer out of your hand. “a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be drinking this. besides, you’re a kid.” your cheeks puffed up with anger. “you’re like 6 months older than me, asshole.”

he shrugged, leaning against your wall and taking a large swig of beer, looking around your bedroom. as pink and girly as it was, it all became much more lewd the longer he looked. there were bras and panties slung across almost every surface, smutty books filling your bookshelves, and a pretty pink vibrator that failed to be hidden underneath your pillow.

euronymous smirked, walking toward your bed and picking it up, switching it on. “well what do we have here?” your breath left your lungs as he held it, quickly rushing up to him and snatching it. “dont touch that!” he laughed bitterly, looking you right in the eye. “so turns out princess bubblegum’s a fucking whore.” you felt your cheeks heating up as he continued to speak.

“did you get to cum, dolly? or was the sound of real music too much for your pretty little ears?” you opened your drawer, tossing the vibrator into it and slamming it shut. then you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist, picking you up and throwing you onto your bed.

everything was happening too fast for you, but the next thing you knew euronymous was on top of you, your faces less than an inch apart as his tone turned into one of lust and desire. “i asked you a question, angel. did that stupid toy make you cum?” you gulped, your core starting to drip from the words he spoke.

you shook your head, causing him to smile. he pushed your legs apart, letting himself in between them and pressing his burning erection onto your clothed pussy, making you gasp. he trailed his hand down your body, his fingers slithering under the waistband of your shorts and stopping at your panties, feeling the sopping wet mess underneath the thin, lacy fabric.

your limbs turned to jelly as a moan slipped from your lips. he began to rub slow circles onto your hard clit, feeling it’s throbbing response.he used his other hand to slip of your shorts, then your panties, taking off your clothes layer by layer until only your socks were left. but he left those on. he thought they were a nice touch.

one thing led to another, and he was pounding into you from behind, his fingers shoved down your throat as he stretched out your tiny little pussy with his monstrous cock.

your back arched as he pressed you into the mattress, feeding on your desperate moans and whimpers like a starved beast. “like that, doll? is that the spot?” he cooed, obviously mocking you. you were a sobbing mess, your mascara running down your face as you drooled around his large fingers.

he looked down at you from where he was, watching your ass bounce with each hard thrust. he watched the curve of your back as his dick made you lose all control of your senses. you would never admit it to him, but he made you feel much better than that stupid vibrator did.

“i-im cumming, oystein..!” you managed to cry out, his finger muffling your words. you had gushed and creamed and squirted around him so many times by now that you had lost count. but body was weak beyond its limits, but he refused to stop. he just kept on pushing, his deep, hoarse groans eoching through your bedroom walls.

he landed a harsh slap onto your bruised ass, making you yelp. his thrusts began to lose their composure as he spoke, his voice breaking. “c-can you cum f’me one more time, baby… can you do that for me..?” you nodded frantically, tears rolling down your face and staining your bedsheets.

his cock throbbed inside of your pulsating hole, creating a wet and sticky mess as cum poured down your thighs and stomach. and then he began to shout, his voice coming out as a booming roar. “goddamnit!” he forced himself all the way in, making your heart stop for a moment as he filled you up with his molten hot cum. he gave you a few more lazy thrusts, his groans turning into little whimpers before he pulled out, shooting a few last ropes onto your arched back.

you laid there, panting like a dog as the realization hit you. your brother’s best friend had just fucked you. the one that you had never gotten along with. the one who swore he’d kill himself if you ever got a man to touch you. the one who longed for the day that he’d finally get to claim a pure soul like yours as his own. and now, he’d finally done it. again.

author's note: i ran to write this as soon as I got the request. goodnight yall :))

#444rockstargf #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #lana del rey #euronymous #lords of chaos #smut #lana del rey unreleased #eurorory #euronymous rory culkin #euronymous smut

[tomuras]

| That Boy is a Monster |

Pairing: Childe x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Dark Content, Hate Sex, Slapping, Heavy Swearing, Insults, Enemies to Lovers, Foreplay, Smut, Reader has a vagina and clitoris, Size Difference, Blood, Blood as Lube, Dubcon, Childe has a big dick, Public Sex, Voyeurism, Humiliation, Crying, Reader is implied to be a part of the Fatui, Mindbreak (?), Reader passes out during sex, Vaginal Fingering, Aftercare, Brief Fluff, 2.2k words. 

A/n: I have not written for this freak in such a long time, but I had sm fun writing this. So, yeah enjoy <3 (p.s the title are lyrics to the song Monster by Lady Gaga)

Summary: You and Childe have hate sex after battling each other. That's it, that’s the post. 

Tagging: @suyacho @auphelia @tighnarly @themovingcastlez

“Mmnh, fuck you taste good.” He moaned, pinning you down and shoving his tongue down your throat, again. 

His body was large and covered in blood, towering over you like a bad omen. His eyes were dark and empty. You had nowhere to run, and there was no escape in sight.

You bit his lip and tried pushing him away, but he was much heavier and stronger than you. “Fuck you!” You yelled. 

You slapped him in an effort to distract him long enough to get away, but it was futile. It was only fair that the victor of the match got to celebrate in their own way. You just didn’t realize that this was how Childe would celebrate his win. Still, as much as you hated him you couldn’t ignore the longing in between your legs. As he towered over you, you couldn’t help but feel a shiver crawl down your spine. The Fatui Harbinger had quite a way of convincing you to say yes to anything he asked, especially that. Regardless of how much you’d fight him, he would get his way no matter what. That was a cruel promise he intended on keeping. 

He slid a hand in between your legs, bloodied and bruised, as he thrusted against his hand, adding a pleasurable amount of pressure for the both of you. You opened your mouth to let out a loud moan, feeling a rush of euphoria from his fingers playing with your bud. Now, staining even your most sensitive parts with blood. If you refused to give up the fight before, you would now. Continuously he played with your bundle of nerves as you tried to weakly push away his advances.

“Fuck, baby you feel so wet.” He groaned in your ear. Not knowing whether it was blood or cum he was rubbing back onto you.

He wasn’t wrong, you were soaking, but goddamn it felt amazing when he touched you down there. Hell, if he touched you anywhere you’d have been a wreck as well, but when he rubbed your sensitive spots all rationale went out the window. He slid two fingers along your folds, gathering up any precum so he could slip both fingers inside of you. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, trying once more to fight him off, but at some point you had given up willingly right as the tip of his fingers pushed against your sweet spot. 

“Feels good doesn’t it?” He whispered against your mouth, his lips rough from cuts and dried blood.

You bite his lip as an act of rebellion, but that only causes him to fuck you harder, pulling moans out of your mouth one after another. Throwing your head back you let out a long and broken moan as you dug your nails into his back, leaving behind a trail of blood. Childe wasn’t wrong, it did feel good, but like hell you would ever admit that to him. Suddenly he slipped his tongue into your mouth, moaning against you like an animal starved of its bountiful feast. Again, you bit his lip, but this time with much more rage and forcefulness. 

“Fuck you!” You spat back. 

His eyes went dark as he let out a twisted laugh. “Oh, I plan to!”

He pulled back only to take his remaining hand and pin both of your wrists above your head. You had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and nothing but pure thrilling fun ahead of you. He continued to finger you, faster and faster, until he could feel your walls tightening around him. That’s when he increased the speed and harshness of how he fucked you, until the very moment in which you came all over his fingers. He watched you with glee as you thrashed against the hold of his hands, moaning and arching your back like it was the best you’d ever had. He pulled out slowly, grinning as he watched you come to reality, thinking that all was said and done.

“What are you doing?” You asked nervously. As you tried to back out his grip you ended up putting yourself in a corner that you couldn’t wiggle your way out of.

He unzipped his pants and then moved to remove your bottoms, pulling them completely off of you as he climbed back on top of you. “Oh, I’m not done yet.” 

A horrific expression washed over your face as you realized what his words meant. You try to reason with him, say how he’s long since proven that he’s the winner and that you were sorry for rejecting his advances beforehand, but it was too late. He was already starting to line himself up with your hole when you had begun crying and begging for him to reconsider. Sadly for you he wouldn’t. Before you knew it he was entering inside of you and you had no choice but to brace yourself. You thought you could handle his size, the thickness of it, but Childe had very quickly proved you wrong. 

Your limits were tested as he used his hips to push himself deeper inside of you. Grabbing onto his biceps and digging your nails into his toned skin you grit your teeth, fighting back the urge to pull away. It hurt like hell at first, feeling as if he was stretching you wider than was humanly possible, but soon you started to adjust his length and girth. Your body had begun to relax and your mind started to lose focus as you became all too aware of just how big he was. Just as you were starting to get used to the pleasurable burn at your core, Childe flipped you onto your stomach and positioned you onto your knees. 

He licked his lips and groaned as he gave your ass a quick, hard slap. Chuckling at the way you whined in response as he pushed himself back inside of you. He grabbed your hips as he pounded inside of you at an unforgiving pace, biting his lip to suppress the excitement hiding underneath his tongue. Your body was on fire, electricity traveled up your spine in the most euphoric way possible. Childe was hitting that sweet spot of yours relentlessly and eventually it broke you in the best of ways. Your tongue fell out of your mouth and eyes rolled back as he hit that spot hard again and again. Fuck, you hated Childe so much, but even you couldn’t deny how good his cock felt shoved inside of your cunt. 

You clawed at the dirt ground while Childe managed to fuck into you harder and faster with every thrust, something you didn’t know was even possible. With the combination of his bloody hands, the wetness of the dirt ground, and the freeing air which enveloped both of you; you weren’t sure how much longer you could handle this. If it wasn’t for the way his tainted hands touched you then it was the vulnerability of anyone being able to walk by and see him deep inside of you. God, something about that made your body quiver. Everytime you heard a noise you held a small amount of hope that it was someone watching you with a satisfied grin on their face. Some part of you wanted the world to know how you belonged to Childe, someone you supposedly hated so much. 

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and groaned loudly. “Fuck, baby keep doin’ that shit and I’m gonna– ahhh!”

Pulling your head up by the fist full of of hair, he started to fuck you sloppily, his thrusts becoming frantic and uneven. You let out a pained whimper as you felt something rush in your chest, your heart beating fast as your number one enemy fucked the life out of you. You were being violated for the whole world to see and yet you couldn’t give a shit less, the pleasure far outweighing the consequences. Tears started to fall from your eyes as you felt the coil finally snap. Childe continued to fuck you through both yours and his highs, overstimulating you as you squirted all over his cock. 

“That’s it, baby. Take it all.” He moaned, hunched over you as he continued to fuck you relentlessly.

As he drained the last of his release inside of you fell limp against the ground, your eyes were barely open and yet you managed to see a group of lesser Fatui members pointing at you and smiling. Something about that felt so good, filling your core with desire all over again. Even as your cunt glistened from all the fluids you couldn’t help but grind against Childe for more stimulation. You knew it would probably hurt, still very overstimulated, but you needed to be by him now more than ever. Something about right now demanded to be filled with as much of him as he could offer, maybe even more. 

In the process of everything he had flipped you back onto your stomach, wanting to look into your glazed over eyes just one last time before he removed himself. As he was about to slide out of you he noticed how you ground your wet pussy against his cock for more, and saw how you eyed the other Fatui members, too. He smiled fondly at you and kissed you gently on the lips. 

He stroked the side of your face and shoved himself back into what little space was left between the two of you. “Don’t look at them, focus on me.” He reassured you as he started to roll his hips to press his cock deeper inside of you until he reached that sweet spot again. 

The feeling you felt was one of instant relief, moaning immediately as your eyes locked on Childe’s. Although dark and empty it soothed you as he treated you with an entirely different etiquette. It didn’t take long for you to forget about the strays and focus entirely on Childe, wrapping your arms around his neck as he took advantage of the space, lifting your legs so that you could wrap them around his waist and giving him easier access to your cunt. Rougher and rougher he fucked into you until the both of you were a whimpering mess, already on the fast track to cumming all over again, but you didn’t mind. 

As the both of you moaned and climaxed in symphony, something even you were surprised by, you felt yourself eventually lose yourself to the pure euphoria you felt. Suddenly, you slipped into a dark nothingness that was like a dreamlike state. It took some time before you had finally came to and when you did you were in a furnished room. You awoke laying in bed, fully clothed and warm, a strange contrast to before. Feeling eyes on you, you glanced to the side of you to see Childe propped upright watching you with a smile on his face.

“Good, you’re finally awake. You had me scared for a moment there.” He admitted, a tint of blush painting his cheeks. 

You rubbed the back of your head in embarrassment. “Sorry ‘bout that, I didn’t realize that would happen.” 

Childe continued looking at you like an obedient pet. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve seen worse.” 

You sighed. “Yeah, I guess– I guess you have a point there.”

There was a moment of comfortable silence, the sound of the fireplace flickered in the background as your eyelids began to feel heavy once again. You tried fighting it, feeling a little awful about fainting mid fuck with your rival. If you could even call him that anymore.

“Tired?” He asked, pulling the blankets over your body gingerly.

You nodded. Letting him put out the fire before crawling back into bed with you, making sure to keep a safe distance from you as to make you feel more comfortable.

“Hey, Childe?” You asked.

“Hmm?” He hummed in reply.

“I still fucking hate you.” You replied in what you hoped was a cold tone, but Childe was not so easily fooled.

“Haha! Sure you do.” He replied with a laugh.

Something about his words and the laughter that followed caused you to feel something bubble in your stomach, something warm and exciting. It filled you with both fear and excitement, eager to find out what all this meant, but for now you’d rest your eyes and heal your battle wounds, hoping for answers in the coming days.

#childe x reader #childe x you #childe x y/n #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #childe smut #tartaglia smut #genshin smut

[tommysversion]

Jealousy Jealousy (Part Two) { Joel Miller x Reader }

Summary: Joel makes good on his promise to show you how he loves you.

CWs: age gap / explicit content / unprotected sex / mentions of jealousy.

Tag List: @pedritosdarling @chaotic-mystery @loquaciousferret @bearsbeetsbeskar @schizoel @funnygirlthatgab @dreamingofdaddydin @pr0ximamidnight @joelsgirl

Notes: literally just a short brain rot follow up to Jealousy, Jealousy.

Buy Me A Coffee?

Joel smirks, presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Oh, darling. That wasn’t the makeup sex. That was the I’m fucking furious sex. You’ll like the makeup sex a whole lot more.”

Smirking yourself, you roll on top of him, lean down so you can press a kiss to his mouth.

“I like the sound of that. How do I sign up for it?”

“You promise we won’t touch anyone else. Ever.”

You press a long, heated kiss to his parted lips.

“Easy enough for me.”

“Good.” Another smirk before he rolls you, pinning your smaller frame beneath him. “I fucked you like I hated you. Now you’re gonna find out how I fuck when I love you.”

You just whimper, wrap your fingers into his curls and drag him into another kiss.

You want to still be angry, still be hurt, but it’s impossible. You care about him too much, want to trust him too badly to still feel anything but desire for him.

Still, it bothers you to think that you’re not the only one who he’s fucked like this. Maybe it causes you to tense a bit, but he senses it, breaks the kiss to look down at you.

“Darlin’…” it’s a heavy sigh, not a warning, more a regret.

“I’m sorry; I just… I keep thinking about it.” You admit, knowing it’s stupid, knowing you’ve hurt him, too.

“I know,” he kisses the corner of your mouth, “I know I can tell you it didn’t mean anything, but I also know I can’t make you unsee it. Let me show you. Let me show you that you’re different, baby.”

You want it. You want him, so fucking badly that you’re about to ignore your pain, ignore your hurt, take back what’s yours.

“Show me,” you pull him into a kiss, deep and desperate, “show me that you love me, Joel.”

He’s just as desperate as you are, knows he’s fucked up, wants nothing more than to show you how much he cares. His own rage has dissipated, leaving only burning need for you as he kisses you, every inch of you that he can reach.

You let him, loving the soft scratch of his beard, the warmth of his breath against your skin as you yank his shirt off, throw it off the side of the bed so that you can touch him.

“Eager, huh. Didn’t get enough last time?” He knows he’s talking big game considering how needy he is, how fucking painfully hard he is again despite fucking you senseless not ten minutes ago.

This is different. This isn’t about anger, or jealousy, it’s about claiming you, about proving how much he needs you.

“Shut the fuck up, Joel.” You roll your eyes, lean in and suck a mark right into his throat, above his collar line.

Maybe it’s petty and possessive, but you don’t give a shit, and he makes absolutely no move to stop you, just hums amusement as he spreads your thighs for him, rubs the head of his cock along your cunt.

You’re still dripping from the last round, the mixture of your release and his spend making it easier for him to slide into you this time, as if you weren’t wet and ready for him anyway.

He groans into your shoulder as he buries himself to the hilt, every thick inch of him being milked by your tight little cunt, so needy for him.

“Jesus fuck…”

You want to echo the sentiment, but words won’t come, just a soft little moan that’s more like a mewl, all your fire and hateful words from before completely burned out.

Any other time, and Joel would be smug about this, but it’s not the time, and besides, all he can focus on is how tight you are, the way your eyes are half closed, lips parted as you stare up at him.

Dimly it occurs to him that you’re the most beautiful goddamn thing he’s ever seen, that hurting you was the dumbest mistake he’s made in a while.

“God damn…”

He breathes it almost reverently before he starts to move, slow, shallow thrusts that have your hands balled into the thin sheets, lips parted in a perfect circle.

It makes him want to be rougher again, hard and fast like before, but that’s not what he’s promised you, and he wants to take his time, wants to drag this out so he can commit every inch of your body to memory.

You can’t find the words, have to settle for just making sweet little sounds instead, but he doesn’t care.

He prefers you like this, too drunk on his cock to mouth off at him, instead wriggling and moaning beneath him like he’s giving you everything you ever wanted.

Maybe it doesn’t occur to him that he is.

He wants to be gentle, but it’s so goddamn hard when you’re so reactive; impossible not to give in.

Groaning into your hair, he lifts your thigh up around his waist, starts to pound into you, desperate to feel you tighten around him, fall apart beneath him.

You’re so responsive to him, or maybe he’s just too big and you’re just made for him, but he’s hitting every spot inside you perfectly with each thrust, the soft sounds of his pleasure in your ear making you shake with need.

“Joel, I’m…”

“I know, baby; I know. Go on. Go ahead. Doing so well for me…”

You’ve never heard soft praise like that from him, and it makes your head spin, makes your entire body weak as you fall apart, shattering around him, nothing in the world matters more in that moment than his arms around you, his cock inside you, your vision blurring with the force of your release.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it…” his thumb strokes your cheek as you come back to yourself, trying to ride out your climax as he fucks you through it; relentlessly chasing his own release now.

You have to admit you’re impressed by his stamina, the sort that you wouldn’t usually expect from a man his age, but you don’t care about that little detail.

All that matters is he’s here, with you, his arms around you, moaning for you, sounds you’ve never heard him make before, and that’s all you care about.

That, and kissing every inch of him you can reach, covering his bare chest with kisses and bite marks, laying claim to what’s yours.

Joel doesn’t remotely mind, knows it might raise a few eyebrows, but he meant it when he said that last time with Tess was the Last Time.

He has absolutely nothing against being marked as yours, not when you look so smug and cute when doing so.

Fuck.

He can feel himself aching and throbbing inside you, one hand reaching up to brace against the headboard as he slams into you one final time, grinding deep as he fills you once more, admiring the way you cling to him, the way your lips part when you moan his name.

“Fucking perfect…” he almost sighs it as he rocks his hips slowly, trying to come down from the force of his climax.

You cling to him, still with your own blissed out expression in place, fingertips tracing each of the marks you’ve left on his tanned skin.

“So… makeup sex achieved?” You ask, still breathless but with that cheeky smirk on your face once more.

“Definitely.”

He pulls out of you reluctantly, only so he can roll onto his side to face you, one arm draped over your body in a lazy, yet somehow still possessive and protective gesture.

“Stay with me?” You hate how vulnerable you sound as you turn to face him, fingertips brushing over his lips.

“Not going anywhere, baby. Gonna be right here when you wake up.”

“Yeah? Gonna wake me up by fucking me into this crappy old bed again?” You ask, eyes glinting with lust.

He smirks.

“Maybe. If my back doesn’t decide to intervene. ‘M not a young man anymore, you know that.”

“Wouldn’t have you any other way.” You remind him, “old man or not.”

“Hey now.” He swats at you playfully, but he’s not truly upset.

Honestly? This is what he’s wanted for a long time. The sort of easy banter that comes between you, the way you look at him with such open adoration and lust in spite of the age difference.

“Don’t worry.” You press a soft kiss to his lips. “You’re my old man.”

The possessive nature of what you’re saying isn’t lost on either of you, nor is the flicker in your eyes that tells him you’re still worried about whether he feels the same.

“Damn right.” He wraps his arms around you, pulls you close and kisses the top of your head.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#my writing #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fic

[shoeistars]

— NO PHOTOS ! pt. 1

༺ feat. isagi, bachira, chigiri, kunigami, nagi

༺ outline. where the boys keep their slutty polas of you <3

༺ w. pro!players, 18+ content, minors dni, photos/polas, fem!reader, read at your own discretion as I don’t do individual tagging for element of surprise <3

༺ pt. 2 (reo, barou, rin, sae, shidou)

— ISAGI ! on the back of his phone

Oh, he’s obsessed with this one polaroid you let him take, his cock slotted between your pretty tits. Your nails sparkled in the photo due to the flash, acrylics all shiny as you held your breasts together to keep him nice and snug

That night was one where he had earned himself a big win, the celebration you gave him was timeless. Your face was all sticky, smeared in pearly cum and runny spit, little bubbles all around the corner of your mouth

Clear case and all, everyone can get a good look at his favorite girl, see just how much of a cockslut she was with a fat dick between her tits and a pearly smile on her face

— BACHIRA ! shoebox

As deranged as Bachira is, he likes to keep you for his eyes only. That being said, the Nike shoebox that’s stored under his bed is full of filth, softcore porn, downright sin

Pictures of your leaking cunt just pumping cream all over the base of his thick cock, pictures of your fucked out face all flushed and dazed. Constant memories that he happens to keep ahold of for lonely nights

There’s enough to nearly fill up the big black box that once held his soccer cleats, so full that the lid can’t even fit on properly to do its job. It’s a tradition for him to snap a shot of you when he’s got you cockdrunk, after all

— CHIGIRI ! trendy altoids wallet box

Did we expect anything else from our artsy princess? He follows trends and those metal altoid mint boxes aren’t an exception, he carries it around with him at all times, decorated to perfection

He’s got tons of miscellaneous shit in there, ranging from a mini bottle of fragrance, a roll of tums, a fortune slip from the fortune cookies the two of you got at the local chinese restaurant in your area

Oh, but his favorite item is taped at the top of the box, sealed in place with a hello kitty sticker. A polaroid of you with his cock down your throat, taking it so deep that you can see the outline in your esophagus. He just so happens to be pressing a palm flat against, Chigiri was real proud of you that night

— KUNIGAMI ! scrapbook

A man of class, really. He’d hate to see all of those precious photos of his princess getting damaged or scratched, his best bet was getting a plain book to store each pola in their own plastic slots

They’re even organized, ranging from you sucking his cock, to your back turned to him as he’s plowing your guts from behind, to you on your knees with glossy nut covering every goddamn inch of your body

It’s his prized possession, stuffed in his bookshelf next to all of his old soccer books and manga. A good flip through is enough to make him chub up in his joggers

— NAGI ! playstation

That playstation was damn expensive, he’d be a fucking fool to not add a breathtaking picture of you bouncing on his dick like it’s your lifeline. It’s taped with washi tape, front and center for him to look at anytime he’s within reach of his console

You’re purely glowing in the photo, the sheen of sweat he got you worked up in making your skin glisten like a goddess. The flash managed to catch the details of his veined up arm as he wrapped a huge hand around your throat

He’s obsessed with the expression on your face too, brows furrowed and jaw slacked with a fat glob of spit dripping past your lips like a hungry dog. His girl was a whore for big dick, a fact that made him smirk lazily when it crossed his mind

#bllk smut #blue lock smut #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #isagi x reader #isagi smut #bachira x reader #bachira smut #chigiri x reader #chigiri smut #kunigami x reader #kunigami smut #nagi x reader #nagi smut

[joelsgreys]

jealous

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You aren't together, but Joel doesn't want to see you with anyone else.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. asshole Joel, jealous Joel, he softens up a bit though. established dynamic, Joel and reader have known each other for a decade.

word count: 2k

a/n: highkey i recycled this idea from myself b/c jealous Joel is like...so hot to me. i love this trope, my favorite variant is when he gets aggressively possessive however i don't think i can top some of the amazing fics out there that have gone that direction so i took a softer, fluffier approach to it. also, happy tlou finale day everyone, we'll get through it all together 💗

Jackson, Wyoming

Winter 2024

“Before you head out for patrol, I just wanted to say that I had a great time with you last night.”

Joel’s blood boiled hot in each and every single vein in his entire body as he watched the scene that was unfolding before him just outside of the horse stables. It was late in the evening, and Tommy’s group was gearing up to head out for tonight’s patrol.

You had just finished saddling up your borrowed horse, Daisy, when Owen had sauntered up to you. Joel didn’t know the man, aside from his name. He had been placed in Owen’s patrol group once or twice in the past several months since returning to Jackson, but for the most part, he’d never spoken more than two words to him, and even when he had, it was only when he really didn’t have a choice. Though he didn’t know Owen, one thing was for damn fucking sure—he didn’t like the way that he was looking at you.

And he definitely didn’t like the way that you were looking at him, either.

In the decade that he’d known you, Joel had never seen you lay your eyes on another man before, not until this very moment.

And it was bothering the fucking shit out of him.

“Yeah, I had a really nice time too,” You replied, flashing him a warm and friendly smile. It was in your nature to be sweet and kind to just about anyone you felt you could trust, that was nothing out of the ordinary, but seeing you interact so effortlessly with him only made Joel’s anger bubble even hotter.

Owen reached out to take your hand in his and Joel angrily clenched his fists the moment he touched you. “We should do it again sometime. Maybe on a night when you’re not stuck with patrol duty?” he suggested.

You nodded, smiling once again. “Sure, I’d really like that.”

Joel couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

He was mere seconds away from losing his goddamn mind. Though he had every desire to go up to Owen, snatched his hand away from yours and give him a piece of his mind, Joel had to remind himself that the last thing he needed to do was cause any kind of trouble in the settlement—Maria wouldn’t have any of that in her community, even if he was her husband’s brother.

After taking a minute to somewhat calm himself enough to a point where he knew he wouldn’t throw a punch, he stiffly walked towards the two of you, calling your name. “Hate to interrupt,” he practically sneered, “But we’re startin’ to lose our time. Tommy’s waitin’ for us at the gate.”

Owen grinned sheepishly, squeezing your hand. “Sorry about that, Miller. I didn’t mean to keep your patrol partner, here.”

Ignoring him, Joel narrowed his dark brown eyes at you. “Get on the horse and let’s fuckin’ go. Now.”

Your smile faded, your mouth falling open slightly in shock at his tone.

Though you knew Joel had always been rough around the edges with other people, he’d never spoken to you like that before. For a brief moment, it almost felt like he’d just slapped you across the face.

Without waiting for your response, he whirled around on the heel of his leather boot in the snow and stalked off towards his waiting stallion, his rifle hanging over his shoulder.

Owen frowned, letting go of your hand. “Jeez. What’s his deal?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice wavered slightly. “But I’m certainly going to find out.”

After bidding a quick goodbye to Owen, you quickly walked over to Joel just before he could climb up into the saddle of his horse.

“Excuse me, but what the fucking hell was that?” You asked fiercely as you approached him. 

With his back still to you, he rigidly replied, “What was what?”

“Get on the horse and let’s fucking go. Now,” You mimicked him, crossing your arms over your chest. “How dare you fucking talk to me like that! What’s your fucking problem?”

He remained silent.

“Joel?” You waited for a moment, but still, he said nothing. “Hello? Joel, I’m talking to you! Answer me!”

Slowly, he turned around to face you. His eyes had gone stone cold.

You’d seen him give those eyes to others before, but he had never given them to you.

“In case you’ve forgotten, we have a lot of work to do around here. Tommy and Maria expect both of us to pull our fuckin’ weight if we want to stay here. You understand that?”

“But Joel—”

“We don’t have time for you to stand around flirtin’ with your little boyfriend over there and wastin’ time.”

Despite being angry, you could have laughed—you almost did.

Not wanting to add fuel to the fire, you managed to hold it back.

“First of all, we’re not fucking teenagers, Joel, so cut that shit out,” You said, letting your arms drop back down to your sides. “I hardly know Owen. We met at the Tipsy Bison last night, we had a few drinks and we were just telling each other that we had a good time, that’s all.”

Joel snorted, rolling his eyes. “Well, ain’t that fuckin’ sweet.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, taken aback by his behavior.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, Joel Miller, I would say that you were jealous or something,” You accused him. You felt a shiver go up and down the length of your spine. It was hard to tell if it was because of the frigid, negative degree temperatures outside—or was it due to the fact that there was actually a possibility that the man you had been helplessly in love with for almost ten years now was bothered by the idea of you being with someone else?

He scoffed in response. “Don’t fuckin’ flatter yourself, sweetheart. I ain’t jealous.”

“Then why the hell are you so upset?”

“I ain’t upset, either.”

“Okay, then why else would you be acting like such a damn asshole towards me?” You challenged him, causing his jaw to clench tightly. “If you’re not jealous, then why do you look like you’re fucking ready to murder Owen with your bare hands?”

Joel groaned out of frustration. “Jesus, can you just fuckin’ drop it? We have to leave before Tommy—”

You reached out and grabbed his arm. “We’re not going anywhere until we talk this out, Joel. I need to know what’s going on with you. Please. Just fucking talk to me.”

He snatched his arm out of your grasp and took a step back. “What the fuck do you want me to say? That you’re absolutely right? That I’m fuckin’ jealous? That the second I saw that prick take your hand, it took every single ounce of strength I had inside me not to walk over and knock his fuckin’ head off his shoulders?”

You exhaled the shaky breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding back. “Joel, you have no fucking right to be jealous. You know how I feel about you, you have always known how I fucking feel about you. But you were the one who told me that we couldn’t be together, that we could never be together.” Your voice began to tremble, and you paused for a brief moment, trying to collect yourself. “You’re the one who said that we’d never be anything more than smuggling partners. Even after everything that’s happened with us, what we’ve been through with Ellie—you still keep me at arm’s length, now more than ever before.”

“So you finally found somebody else,” he stated, bitterly. “That it? You tryin’ to move on from me?”

“Yes. No.” You let out a small groan, knowing that if there was one thing you could not do, it was lie to Joel. “Yes, okay? I’ve been trying to fucking move on from you.”

Joel’s stomach sank at your admission. “And he’s the guy, huh?”

“Owen is a nice guy. And I really liked spending time with him—” You looked up at him, seeing the hurt flash in his eyes. “I’ve been so fucking lonely, alright?” You continued quickly before he could say anything. “You’ve been avoiding me for months now, Joel. Ever since we came back to Jackson, things have changed. Do you think I haven’t noticed that we only ever talk when we’re sent out on patrol together? That we don’t eat our meals together anymore like we used to? That whenever I even try and approach you, you make up some excuse to leave, even when we’re in our own fucking house?” Hot, frustrated tears blurred your vision. Not wanting to cry, you furiously blinked them back. “Ellie asked me the other day if something was wrong with us. Even she notices the way you’ve been treating me these last few months, Joel. How you avoid me like I’m the fucking plague.”

Joel opened his mouth to speak, but then clamped it shut, not knowing what to say.

“You can’t be upset with me for trying to move on, not when you’re the one who’s been pushing me away—and I don’t just mean here in Jackson. For ten fucking years you’ve been pushing me away, Joel.” Your voice cracked, and a tear finally gave way and slipped down the side of your face.

His expression suddenly softened. “I had to push you away, darlin’.”

You subconsciously stepped closer to him. “But why?”

“Because, what I felt—what I’ve been feelin’ for you, it’s somethin’ that I didn’t think I could feel for someone ever again. It’s so strong and runs so fuckin’ deep that it scares the shit out of me,” Joel confessed, a trembling edge to his tone. “Before Wyoming, it was so fuckin’ easy not to think about it. We were too busy fightin’ to survive, to protect Ellie—now that we’re here and every goddamn day isn’t a fight for survival, things changed, alright? What I feel for you runs through my mind all fuckin’ day. There ain’t no avoidin’ it.”

“Joel—”

He cut you off. “I never meant to hurt you. When we got here, I thought it’d be best to put some distance between us. I thought that maybe if I spent less time with you, what I feel would just go away somehow. But I was wrong. Wrong and stupid to think that what I’ve been feelin’ for ten fuckin’ years would just disappear.”

“What do you feel for me, Joel?” You whispered, looking up at him.

Your eyes widened in a slight surprise as Joel reached up and gently cupped your cheek in the palm of his gloved hand. He put his other hand on your hip and pulled you as close as he possibly could to him. He looked deeply into your eyes as your arms wrapped themselves tightly around his neck. Joel leaned down into you, and the both of you stood absolutely still, each waiting for the other to make the final move. 

Finally, it was Joel who closed the remaining distance between you and him.

He softly pressed his lips to yours. Any and all hesitation that he might have had before vanished completely as you parted your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. 

“That,” he said breathlessly once he’d pulled away, “Is what I feel for you.”

“Never thought I’d see the fucking day,” You murmured against his lips, a tiny, joking smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Joel leaned his forehead against yours and sighed, his warm breath tickling your nose. “Look darlin’, m’real sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. It’s just that seein’ you with that prick, the thought of you with him, or with any other man that ain’t me, I just couldn’t fuckin’ handle it.” He paused briefly, taking a look around. Part of him hoped Owen was still around and watching his every move. “I’m gonna have to find a way to make sure every man in Jackson knows you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” You assured him, gently. “Believe me. You are the only man that I could ever want. I’m all yours, Joel.”

#joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller pedro pascal #the last of us imagine #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

[toruro]

chasing that feeling

pairing: beomgyu x f reader

tags: smut (18+), toxic relationship hehe 😿, semi public sex, pet names (baby, angel)

w/c: 770+

all of your friends hate your trashy boyfriend beomgyu.

you can't really blame them though ... he kinda sucks. canceled on you last minute two weeks ago; soobin was the unfortunate soul who had to console you over the phone, watching you as your eyes watered up in your pretty pink dress, fat tears rolled down your blush painted cheeks.

beomgyu tried to make it up with you with flowers the next day, 'cept he forgot that your favorites are daisies and got you roses instead. you keep telling yourself that it's the thought that counts.

taehyun's always asking you why you keep goin' back ... you don't have the heart to tell him the real reason.

you don't have the goddamn dignity to admit that it's because after everything—all the tears, all the shut doors, all the "gyu, i'm done's"—you always manage to end up in the same position—

"oh fuck, angel," beomgyu grunts from behind you, pelvis slamming into the softness of your ass. "this cunt's s'tight—shit, angel you're suckin' me in," he murmurs, sinking his fat cock in so deep you gasp loudly, lurching over the bathroom sink.

you don't even wanna think about how you got here; you were standing in front of the pub for almost half an hour, waiting for beomgyu who promised he'd be there fifteen minutes earlier, and right when you made the decision to take the high road and head home in defeat, he was running down the street with sweat beading down his forehead.

maybe you shouted at him a little. cried a little. tried to walk away. told him to go home aline. told him you don't deserve this.

beomgyu thought different, of course, and a hand on your wrist soon turned into a tug and suddenly you find yourself pressed against the counter in the tiny bathroom of the pub, skirt pushed over your ass and panties shoved to the side.

"love this pussy so fuckin' much," he groans, pulling his hips back so his cock slips out halfway before sloppily shoving it back in. one of his hands holds a steady grip on your hip, the other trailing up your back and finding purchase on your neck, just below jaw so that his index and middle fingers can hook upwards and into your mouth.

unconsciously, your lips wrap around them, tongue swiping over the pads of his fingers as you try not to lose yourself in the feeling of all the pretty veins and curves of his cock pressing up against your hot, tight walls.

"beo-beomgyu we can't—oh," you moan quietly, closing your lips around the rough pads of his fingers once more in hopes to keep your noise level down when he jams his cock further inside of you, grinding into you so that his balls rub against your clit. "can't be loud," you manage to gasp out when he gives you a second of peace, stilling inside of you once he's bottomed out.

"'nd why's that baby?" beomgyu mutters, fingers around your hips digging in further when he gifts you another powerful thrust. "seems like we're both havin' fun ... aren't we?" his voice is low and raspy, and you're trying—you're trying so fucking hard not to get lost but it only takes you a few seconds to give in and relent.

beomgyu's ramming into you now; fingers slipped out of your mouth a few moments ago so he could situate both hands on your waist and pull your warm, dripping back into him so the tip of his dick kisses your cervix with every messy thrust.

there's a mix of both your arousal every where now, but as your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head and beomgyu begins moaning your name in small huffs—telling you that you're the "best fuckin' angel alive ..,,, prettiest thing in the world when you're being fucked with his cock ...,," that he "can't get enough of you" ....

you don't even know why you bother trying to fight it anymore. no matter how many tears, no matter how many long nights of arguments where you tell yourself it'll be the last, no matter how many hours you waste waiting for him ... you'll always chase the feeling of his hot breath fanning down on your neck when he finally leans over, murmuring 'bout how he's "gonna cum baby, cum w'me please ..."

and of course you do, because beomgyu might be a trashy boyfriend, but he's your boyfriend, and you have no plans on letting him go.

#beomgyu smut #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu imagines #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu smut #txt x reader #txt smut #💌 drabbles