dea ⛥

SADIE SINK

Well, You loved everything about him. His hair, His smile, The bitchy expression he wore on his face when you said something he didn't agree with but the moles that were scattered across his body? They held a special place in your heart.

Waking up next to him in the morning when the sunshine was creeping through the curtains casting a golden glow against the skin of his back allowing you a clear view of them. Tracing your finger slowly across them making him shiver, leaning forward to place soft kisses against them.

"Hmm, morning baby" His voice was raspy, Still full of sleep as he arched back into you silently letting you know he wanted you to continue.

"Morning" You smiled placing another kiss softly against the mole on his shoulder blade, Your hair tickling the side of Steve's face.

"What you doing?" Steve let out a breathy laugh as he turned his face towards you, Kissing your forehead as you continued to follow the moles down his arm.

"Appreciating you" You whispered, Pulling his arm to make him roll onto his back. Steve smiled as he looked down at you now placing kisses against the ones on his chest, You smirked up at him before continuing your path making sure each one gets a kiss.

"I like it" Steve smiled resting his hand on your head as you moved lower, placing kisses across his stomach until you found it. Your favourite one. The one that lived just above your other favourite part of his body, You drag your tongue across it looking up at Steve who was now biting down on his lip with half lided eyes. "You're teasing me, baby" Steve sighed as he run his fingers through his hair.

"Maybe" You giggled kissing the mole once before dragging your tongue across the band of his boxers "I think you enjoy it"

Steve let out a low groan, If the room wasn't completely silent you'd have missed it.

"I- I do" Steve replied barely above a whisper, Cock painfully hard against the cotton of his boxers.

"Mhmm, can tell" You teased moving back to the mole leaving one final kiss before kissing down his hard length. "All I was doing was trying to show you how much I love them" You sighed but the smile on your face made Steves dick twitch as you looked up at him from between his thick thighs.

"You gonna appreciate this too?" Steve teased lifting his hips a little so his dick pressed against your lips, You shake your head placing a kiss where his tip was hidden by his boxers.

"Maybe another time" You smirked, pushing yourself up to crawl up his body. Steve groaned playfully as you straddled his lap, Leaning down to kiss him.

"You're a fucking tease" Steve whispered against your lips.

ᴊᴏɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ!

Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: 5.3k

Summary: Eddie Munson has become an Urban Legend: the Devil of Hawkins. You are new to town, but can’t seem to believe the rumors about the man that lives in the trailer across the street. Based on the song of the same title by Molly Frances.

Contains: agoraphobic!Eddie, shy!reader, rumors of Eddie being a serial killer, depictions of anxiety, panic and fear, mentions of scars, blood, minor bodily injury, height difference (shorter!reader), issues with food mentioned

Series Masterlist

Your nerves were much lower going to Eddie’s trailer this time, but they were still there. You wouldn’t quite call it anxiety, it felt softer, much like first date jitters. You tried to tell yourself that wasn’t it though, you weren’t even 100% sure this was a date. You wouldn’t have been upset if it was. 

Much like when you went over to meet Wayne, you spent well over an hour picking out the right outfit. The vibes were definitely different this time though. Whether it was a first date or not, you were dressed like it was. Either way, you were celebrating staying and you deserved to feel pretty and be happy. 

You heard crashing in Eddie’s kitchen when you knocked on the door, followed by frustrated grumbling as he approached. You tried your best not to laugh as he opened up the door. He had a tacky “Kiss the Chef” apron over an old t-shirt, and his hair had been pulled back into a very messy bun. He had some kind of sauce smudged on his face, which was otherwise covered in panic. 

things may get spicy too ;)

"Curves and comfort"

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Joe Keery x reader ⋆⭒˚.⋆

english is not my language please be kind and sorry if i wrote wrong :) requests are closed!

summary: You’re insecure about your big breasts, compare yourself to skinnier girls. Joe reassures you

warnings: Body image insecurity, explicit sexual content, 18+

You sat on Joe’s couch with your legs pulled in tight, the oversized hoodie you’d stolen from his closet stretched across your chest like it was trying, and failing, to make you disappear.

Rain streaked the tall windows of his apartment. City lights blurred into soft golds and reds beyond the glass. The Thai takeout containers sat half eaten on the coffee table. Your wine glass was still mostly full., yu hadn’t been able to taste much of anything all night.

And Joe noticed, he always noticed.

He’d been quiet for the last few minutes, one arm stretched along the back of the couch, thumb brushing idle circles against the fabric near your shoulder. Those soft brown eyes of his kept flicking over to you, patient, waiting.

When you finally spoke, your voice came out smaller than you meant it to.

“I think I want a reduction.”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t laugh and he didn’t rush in with some empty “you’re perfect the way you are” that would have made you want to crawl out of your skin. He just turned fully toward you, knee brushing yours, and said, low and steady,

“Okay, talk to me.”

You stared at the condensation ring your glass had left on the wood. Your hands were shaking a little inside the long sleeves of his hoodie. “I’m serious, Joe. I’m so tired of them, they’re heavy. My back hurts almost every day, everything I wear either makes me look like I’m trying to show off or like I’m drowning in fabric trying to hide... and every time I see pictures of your exes...or just… any girl who’s smaller, skinnier, the kind who can wear a tank top without looking like she’s about to tip forward...I feel like a joke, like I’m the opposite of what you’d actually want if you really thought about it long-term.”

Joe’s hand found yours, his fingers were warm, a little calloused from years of guitar strings and whatever physical work the latest role demanded. He threaded them through yours and held on.

“Look at me.”

You did, reluctantly, your eyes already felt hot.

“I have never once looked at you and thought you were too much of anything,” he said. “Not your body, not your chest, not the way you fill out a shirt or the way you try to hide under mine. You’re not a joke. You’re the person I can’t stop thinking about, the person whose laugh I can pick out in a crowded room and the person I want to come home to.”

You let out a wet, broken little laugh.

“Easy for you to say. You’re… you... and I’m over here comparing myself to girls who look like they could wear crop tops without anyone staring.”

He shifted closer until his thigh pressed fully against yours. The city lights caught in the light stubble along his jaw.

“Those girls aren’t here, you are, and I’ve seen every version of you...morning hair sticking up every which way, no makeup, post-workout sweat, dressed up for premieres and so much more...and I still choose you. Every single time.”

Your throat tightened. “But what if I do it? What if I get smaller? Would you still...”

“Yes.”

The answer came without a second of hesitation.

“If you decide that’s what you need for your body, for your comfort, for your peace of mind, I’ll drive you to every appointment. I’ll sit in the waiting room. I’ll bring you ice packs and terrible reality TV and whatever soup you want while you heal... but I need you to hear me when I say this isn’t about me wanting you different. This is about you hating something that I…” He exhaled, almost like the words cost him something. “God, I love.”

The tears came then, quiet ones. You tried to wipe them away with the sleeve of his hoodie, but he caught your wrist gently and pulled you in instead. You ended up tucked against his chest, his arms around you, chin resting on the top of your head. You could feel the steady thump of his heart under your cheek.

“I love the way you look in my shirts,” he murmured into your hair. “The way the fabric stretches just a little across your chest, I love how soft you are when I pull you against me, I love the weight of you in my hands, i love that when we’re alone and you finally stop hiding, you let me see all of you. Every curve, every place you think is too much. I don’t want less of that. I want more of you being comfortable enough to stop comparing yourself to anyone else.”

You sniffed against his shirt. “Even when I look at old photos of you with...”

“Stop.” His voice stayed soft, but there was steel under it. “I’m not with them. I’m with you, and the only body I want under my hands is yours.”

You stayed like that for a long time, listening to the rain and the quiet sounds of the city far below.

Eventually the tears slowed and your breathing evened out. Joe’s hand moved in slow, soothing strokes up and down your back, never pushing, just present.

After a while he spoke again, quieter. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded against his chest.

“When you look at yourself… what do you actually see that you hate so much? Is it the size? The way they feel? Or is it the stories you’ve been telling yourself about what they mean?”

You thought about it, really thought.

“All of it, I guess. They’re the first thing people notice. I feel like I walk into a room and that’s all anyone sees and then I look at the girls you’ve been with before and they’re just… lighter, smaller, easier. I keep thinking maybe you’d be happier with someone who didn’t take up so much space.”

Joe pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands came up to cup your face, thumbs brushing away the last of the tears.

“You don’t take up too much space, you take up exactly the right amount. And for the record..." his mouth curved into the smallest, softest smile “I have never once wished you were lighter or smaller or easier. I like the way you feel against me. I like the way you look when you’re not trying to hide. I like waking up with my face buried in your chest because it’s warm and soft and it smells like you. I like the way you fill my hands. I like every single thing you’re trying so hard to shrink.”

Your face burned and you looked down, but he tilted your chin back up.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t do whatever makes your body feel better,” he continued. “If the weight is hurting you, if it’s making daily life harder, then we look into it. But I need you to know that the version of you I’m in love with is the one sitting right here.”

You swallowed. “You’re really not… disappointed?”

“Disappointed?” He let out a short, incredulous breath. “Baby, come here.”

He stood, tugging you gently to your feet, and led you down the short hallway to his bedroom. The lights were low, just the warm glow of the lamp on the nightstand. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you between his knees, hands resting lightly on your hips over the hoodie.

“Can I show you?” he asked. “What I see?”

Your heart hammered, you nodded once.

Joe’s fingers found the hem of the hoodie. He looked up at you the entire time, giving you every chance to stop him. When you didn’t, he lifted it slowly, carefully, over your head and let it fall to the floor. You were left in just the soft bralette you’d worn under it, nothing fancy, just something that tried to contain everything. Your arms immediately crossed over your chest.

He caught your wrists and guided them gently back down to your sides.

“Don’t hide,” he whispered. “Not from me.”

His hands slid up your waist, slow, reverent. When they reached the undersides of your breasts he paused, then cupped them carefully, as if they were something precious instead of the heavy, inconvenient things you’d spent years resenting. His thumbs brushed over the soft fabric of the bralette. You felt yourself flush all the way down your neck.

“These,” he said, voice rough now, “are part of the body I can’t get enough of, the body I want under me, over me, against me... every night.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss right over your heart, through the thin fabric. Then another, lower, his mouth was warm.

You shivered. “Joe...”

“I’m not done.”

He looked up at you again, eyes dark and soft at the same time. “I love how full they are, and I love that you’re mine.”

Your knees felt weak and he must have sensed it, because he stood, turned you carefully, and guided you down onto the bed. He followed, bracing himself over you on his forearms, hips settled between your thighs. The weight of him was grounding.

He kissed you then, slow, deep, the kind of kiss that felt like a promise. One hand slid under your back to unhook the bralette. You helped him slide it off, and then there was nothing between his palms and your skin. He groaned quietly against your mouth when he filled his hands with you, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they tightened under his touch.

“See?” he murmured, trailing kisses down your throat. “Perfect, exactly like this.”

He took his time. Mouth on one breast, then the other, sucking gently, licking, nipping just enough to make your back arch. Every time you tried to turn your face away or cover yourself, he caught your hands and pinned them lightly above your head, not hard, just firm enough to make you stay present.

“Stay with me,” he said against your skin. “I want you to feel how much I want you.”

Your legs wrapped around his waist almost without thought. You could feel how hard he was through his jeans, pressing against the softest part of you. He rocked against you once, slow, and the friction made you gasp.

“Still think I’d rather have someone smaller?” he asked, voice low and a little wrecked already. He rolled his hips again, deliberate. “Still think I’d look at any of those girls the way I’m looking at you right now?”

You shook your head, eyes stinging again for a completely different reason.

“Good.”

He kissed you harder this time, deeper, while one hand slid down between your bodies to pop the button on your jeans. You lifted your hips to help him. Together you shoved the denim and your underwear down your legs until you could kick them off. His own clothes followed in a messy pile on the floor.

When he settled back between your thighs there was nothing left between you, just skin and heat and the steady press of his cock against your wetness.

He didn’t rush, he rocked against you for a long time, sliding the length of himself through your folds, coating himself in how ready you already were. Every pass of the head over your clit made your breath catch. His mouth stayed busy on your breasts, alternating between soft kisses and firmer sucks that sent sparks straight down your spine.

“Joe...please...”

“I’ve got you.”

He reached between you, guided himself to your entrance, and pushed in slow.

The stretch was familiar and overwhelming all at once. You both groaned when he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, buried as deep as he could go.

He stayed still for a moment, forehead pressed to yours, breathing hard. “Feel that?” he whispered. “That’s how much I want you, not a smaller version or a different version. You.”

Then he started to move.

Deep, steady strokes that dragged against every sensitive place inside you. His hands never stopped touching; cupping your breasts, squeezing gently, rolling your nipples between his fingers while he fucked you like he had all night and nowhere else to be. Every time you tried to hide your face in his neck he pulled back just enough to make you look at him.

“Stay with me,” he said again, voice rough. “I want to see you, all of you.”

You came the first time with his name broken on your lips and his mouth open against your breast, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. He didn’t stop, he just slowed, working you through it, then built the pace back up until you were shaking again underneath him.

By the time he finally let himself go, buried deep and groaning into your neck, your legs were trembling and your mind had gone quiet for the first time in weeks.

No comparisons. No mental measurements against other girls. Just the heavy, perfect weight of him on top of you and the slow, soothing circles his thumb traced over the side of your breast while you both came down.

He didn’t pull out right away, he stayed inside you, soft kisses pressed to your collarbone, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. One hand stayed cupped around the soft weight of your breast like he couldn’t quite make himself let go.

“I love these,” he murmured eventually, voice wrecked and honest. “I love every soft, heavy, perfect inch of them.. and I love you, reduction or no reduction. Whatever you decide... but don’t do it because you think I want less of you, don’t do it because you’re measuring yourself against people who aren’t here and never will be. Do it only if it’s for you.”

You turned your face into his neck and breathed him in.

The rain was still falling outside, somewhere in the city a car horn sounded, distant and unimportant.

“I’m still scared,” you admitted.

“I know.” He kissed the top of your head. “We’ll figure it out, together. But for right now…” His hand squeezed gently, possessively. “Just let me keep loving the body you already have.”

Taglist: @watercolorskyy, @deviousfaye , @watercolorskyy , @l33nlikeacholo @ophirei @leahfaith @bluehexagon8 @unclejeezysblog@sweatydjoshoes @kurtsw7rld96 @jinxispunk @drlangdonapologist

𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘛𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

wc : 2.3K

warnings : mention of male masturbation; nipple play; make out; no use of y/n; age gap (22-28); religious guilt; possible grammatical errors; english is not my first language

💌 lillie talks : can you tell that i’m addicted to ballet flats ? i almost deleted everything two hours ago, but here it is 🫩 Enjoy girls 💕 Read more of my work here : masterlist. Request are always open, feel free to ask anything !

𓊈 wicked games masterlist 𓊉 part 1 | part 3..

Ever since Gator walked through the door of the coffee shop you work at a month ago, he’s started coming regularly and always ordered the same thing. A medium black coffee, and sometimes you would offer him a little brownie. There was this little spark in his eyes every time you would give him one.

“Here’s your brownie, Gator.” You said as you gently hand him the small bag containing the cake.

“Thanks, miss.” He smirked before leaving. He never had the time to sit at a table and sip his coffee while you not so secretly admired him, he only did it once and you have to admit that being able to admire him while biting your lips as he sip his coffee was something you truly appreciated. Seeing him in his sheriff suit really did something to you. The way his bulletproof vest clung to his chest, half-covering the tight black shirt that cuts in half his arm tattoo. That camo pants that revealed more than intended and that cap he sometimes wore backwards. Gator was hotter in his suit.

Gator

brownie’s delicious pretty girl

as always

Few days ago, Gator gave you his number, he said it was for your security and that you could call him at any inconvenience. However, he would take the opportunity to send you messages in the middle of the night. Sometimes to tell you how good you looked at church that day, making you blush and kicking your feet in your bed, to ask you if your car was doing great after he fixed it for you, and sometimes it was just to ask you if you were okay, which was somehow weird but exciting.

You smiled foolishly in front of your phone before putting it in the pocket of your apron and serving the new customers that just entered the building.

Around 5 p.m you finally got back home from a tiring day. When you entered the hallway, the soft scent of apple pie filled your nose. You wandered around the house and saw your mother peacefully cooking in the kitchen. You leaned against the doorframe and watched her cut the apples.

Ever since you were a kid, you’ve loved when your mom bakes you delicious cakes. You always claimed that she was the best cooker, and when you were still in school, you’d wait all day to get home so you could enjoy the meals your mom had prepared.

But your favourite one was the cake smeared with your grandmother’s homemade cherry jam. Since her death, it was the thing you missed the most — apart from her obviously. You remember how you would wait every Saturday for the postman to deliver the jam at your parents house, your grandma used to send you some every weeks after you told her how much you loved it.

Your mom slowly turned around and saw you, “Oh, hey sweetheart.” She smiled widely, “How’s your day ?”

You smiled back, “Well, better since I smelled your cake.”

She laughed quietly, “Sit down, i’m gonna serve you.” You did, you sat around the table and waited impatiently for the sweet of your day. “Gator came today ?” She asked.

Your mom was like your best friend, you told her everything about your life, including your current relationship with Gator. She seemed even more excited about the event than you. So she asked everyday if he was there.

“Yeah,” you smiled and blushed, “I offered him a brownie.”

She suddenly turned around, “Again ?” She laughed quietly.

“Yeah.” You nodded.

“You know that you can loose your job.” She warned you but still with a smile.

“No, because I’m the one who pays for them.” She rolled her eyes and laughed again. Before finally serving you a slice of her apple pie.

Then your grandpa entered the room in his wheel chair, “Oh, I hope there’s some for me.” He said, making you and your mom laugh quietly.

“Of course dad.” Your mom said smiling before serving him a slice too.

You spent the rest of your afternoon reading your romance novel in your garden, sitting right beside your horse, Molly. It was the kind of story you loved and dreamed about every day, imagining it was you with Gator. A slow burn in which you could tell they were going to have the happiest ending ever, but you still read it because you loved the way your heart felt each time you turned a page.

—

Gator

can’t wait to see you tomorrow

He texted around 1 a.m.. God, this man never sleeps..

hope you’ll be wearing that pink dress

Two weeks ago, Gator mentioned liking your pink dress, he described it like it made you look like a goddess, which once again made you blush.

For the past month, he didn’t missed Sunday’s service once, he even came to the Easter mass and stayed for the ‘after party’ where you ate a delicious meal with all your sisters and brothers, and where you definitely ate too much chocolate.

When you woke up this morning you almost immediately blushed thinking about the fact that you were going to see Gator at church. So you put the pink dress and did your make up, all while listening to your favourite songs. You smiled the whole time and danced around in your room. You slightly curled your soft hair and put on your pink ballet flats to match the dress. You looked at your reflection in the mirror and smiled. You never thought you’ll be doing all of this for a man, especially for Gator.

“Young woman, you’re way too pretty to go to church.” Your mom teased when you walked down the stairs.

“Gotta be pretty for the Lord.” Well if you consider Gator as your Lord then yes, you gotta be pretty for him. Your mom smiled because she knew. You would never do your makeup to go to church, let alone getting up at 8 a.m. to get ready for ‘church’ on a Sunday’s morning.

In just a month, if it’s not in a few days, you’d completely fell for Gator. The way he looked at you, the way he pulled you over on purpose every time he spotted your car from miles away. All those little actions made your heart shutter and you couldn’t help but still blushed every time he was around you. It was a feeling you never really felt before. Not that you’d never fallen in love, but you’d never felt aroused by someone before.

And Gator was definitely not your type. Usually you would go for the romantic and charming guy, who would take you on a date in a fancy restaurant and definitely wouldn’t jump on you on the first night spent together. Gator was the opposite. He was naturally short-tempered and spoke rudely to everyone, except to you obviously. He was only seen as that narcissistic guy who think he’s better than anyone and don’t give a shit about ‘normal’ people. He would definitely ruin you.

When you arrived at church, you sat on the first pew, as always. And waited impatiently for Gator to pass the large doors. But after waiting for approximately fifteen minutes, the pastor stood behind the pulpit and started his speech, but someone was missing. You kept turning around, and got disappointed every time you saw that he still wasn’t there. Your big smile slowly faded every time you turn back around to the pastor, with still no Gator in sight.

You stopped hopping that Gator would come after 1 hour.

When the service finally ended, you got out quickly, bumping into people in the aisle. When you finally got out, you began to search for him, you thought that maybe he was gonna come after and wait for you outdoors. But still, no Gator in sight.

You sighed and started walking toward your car, when all of a sudden Gator’s truck appeared in the driveway. You stopped and watched him park right in front of you, before he opened the window.

“Sorry, pretty girl.” He said with that cocky grin, “Didn’t hear my alarm.”

You rolled your eyes, crossed your arms and tried to hide your little smile, “What are you doing here then ?”

He laughed once quietly, “Jump in.”

You smiled fully now and jumped in the passenger seat. “Where are we going ?” You asked.

“’M taking you home.”

“But- my car ?” You frowned, looking back at your car disappearing behind you.

“I’ll bring it back to you.” He grinned.

You smiled shyly, turned back into your seat and fastened your seatbelt.

The road back to your house was mostly just a road in the middle of nowhere, without any trees in sight. Except right before your house, there was this little road that led to a small wood. Gator suddenly turned right, and took the dusty road into the forest.

“Gator, where are we going ?”

“Just somewhere quiet.” He reassured.

You weren’t quite reassured yet, not that you don’t trust him but you read way too many articles about girls getting kidnapped and taken into a wood. And by the way you jumped in Gator’s car with no doubt, tells a lot about how easy you would get trapped.

After driving five minutes into the forest, Gator finally parked on the side of the road between few trees, and stopped the engine. The car was dead silent, only the sound of the leaves moving in the breeze echoed through the air.

You didn’t dare to look at him in the eyes, your gaze remained fixed on the windshield. But you knew his eyes were stuck on you. They roamed all over your body, on your slight trembling hands, on your chest moving fast. On that dress he loved so much and those stupid ballet flats that made him laugh. On your pretty face he jerked off on so many times in a month.

“Look at me.” He said quietly.

You hesitated for few seconds, finally turning your head toward him. He was leaning back against the door, still sitting in the driver seat. His gaze was different, more deep, more something you couldn’t explain yet.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said even more quieter.

The corner of your mouth twitched slightly, still very shyly. You were always shy when around Gator, he had that ability to intimate you like nobody else. Your cheeks flushed pink and you turned back your head, trying to escape his lingering gaze.

“I didn’t say ya could look away.” He grabbed your chin, making you look back at him. He was closer now, so close you could feel his hot breath on your face. Your heart beat instantly fastened, it was so loud you were sure he could hear it.

And before you could even react, his lips crashed on yours. You didn’t kiss him back at first, but when he pulled back to look at you for a second, it was your turn to crash your lips on his.

Your mouths moved together so smoothly it was like they were made for each other. It was slow at first — but nothing is really slow with Gator.

His tongue slipped between your lips, tasting you more. His hand settled on your thigh and squeezed it not so gently. Your noses bumped into each other, your tongues moved together, letting a wet sound echo in the car.

His hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer to him, while you finally lay your hand on his chest, fisting his shirt as he deepen the kiss.

You pulled away for a moment, just to catch your breath. That cocky grin was back on his lips, his eyes inspected your face. You smiled timidly, your cheeks never stopped blushing.

His mouth was back on yours suddenly, his hand moved up and settled on your ribs. The kiss was messier, all teeth and tongue.

You felt his thumb starting to draw circles on the bottom of your breast, before cupping it fully through your dress. Your body froze for a second, surprised by the move. And he felt it, he pulled away.

“Ya like that ?” He asked quietly, his thumb slowly moving on your nipple.

You nodded, unable to say anything. He grinned before kissing you once again, still messy and full of saliva. Your nipple harden under his touch as you gasp into his mouth.

You made out with Gator for fifteen minutes, your body rocking against his, his thumb teasing your hard peak. You were completely out of breath when Gator started the engine. And the short drive to your home was completely silent.

When he stopped in your driveway, he looked at you a last before you open the door.

“See ya, pretty girl.” He said and winked at you. You smiled and closed the door, before seeing him drive away and disappear.

You smiled foolishly and bit your lips, walking toward the front door of your house. You opened the door and entered, you took off your shoes, that smile still lingering on your face. You found your way toward the dining room where metallic sound came from.

You stopped in front of the door, your family was sitting around the table and immediately stopped talking when they saw you.

“Where were you ?” Your dad questioned, he seemed angry or annoyed.

“I’m sorry, I was talking with the pastor and I didn’t see time pass-” Your smile faded instantly, your heart beating so fast. You lied.

“I don’t care, you should’ve text, we were worried.”

“I’m sorry, dad.” You said shamefully.

When bedtime came, you kneeled beside your bed as usual. You’d committed so many sins today, it was obvious to ask for forgiveness to your Lord.

“Forgive me Lord, for i have sinned…” You murmured, your eyes shut.

You’d lied to your parents, you’d kissed a boy for the first time. But the most important thing you did was letting you touch by Gator.

You’d always imagined letting yourself getting touched after marriage, not before and even less with a man you met a month ago, and in the woods ? These were the worst things you’d ever done…

To be continued…

tags : @baisangels @xoxocelestial @unclejeezysblog @xceafh @corabrown19 @djomama123 @whispersoflost @us3r4682 @dragemballz @hexyissy @theoceanis6milesdeep @yailology @xhannahhhx @stormyquirkyfan @stoneyggirl2 @haydensheartt @toglipy @kristywidget97 @jas-mines-things @drlangdonapologist @exooojongdaeee @sweetsun22 @1laufeyfan

summary: you and steve decide to stay in on halloween, getting some unexpected guests

warnings: nothing really, very minor cursing (ass and hell), arguing (but not really), byler, fluff

wc: 1,397

an: i cantttt wait for fall so i wrote this!! it’s a bit longer than intended, but i hope you like it! feel free to leave requests! (i also may or may not have included my favorite movie in this 🙈)

dividers: @toastray

october 31st. streets were already flooded with children dressed as their favorite characters at 2 pm. but you and steve? you were sprawled out on the couch, head resting on steve’s lap while you were cozied up in your shared apartment, watching movies together.

head resting in steve’s lap, you look up to him and ask,“are you sure you don’t want to go to robin’s party? i mean, it’s not too late, we still have, like, two hours.”

steve looks at you like he can’t believe the words that just came out of your mouth. “baby, seriously?? this is my favorite place. right here. i don’t wanna be anywhere else right now.”

you laugh under your breath, “okay,”

about two movies in, you hear a knock on the door.

steve sighs dramatically, and definitely too loud, “trick or treaters? already?”

“well, it is five, trick-or-treating just started,” you say, starting to stand up.

you open the door to see three figures. one, a little girl dressed as a princess. the second, a kid dressed as a dog. but the last? the last was a teenager wearing jeans, a shirt, and sunglasses.

“trick or treat!!” the younger ones squeal, while the teen stays silent with his pillowcase open, waiting for candy.

steve walks up behind you, “what, too cool to speak?” he says, aimed towards the teen.

in return, the teenager just shrugs, holding his pillowcase out further. you gave him candy anyway, although you made sure the younger ones got more. after they said their ‘thank you’s and walked away, you closed the door.

“asshole,” steve muttered.

“steve!” you swat at his shoulder, “you can’t just call kids assholes!”

he grins, “what? he was one.”

you’d just settled back onto your couch, starting superman because even though it wasn’t on theme for the night, you always made steve watch your favorite on movie nights.

just as you were getting comfortable, you heard another knock. you got up to answer it, expecting more trick-or-treaters, but you were shocked to see.. mike and will?

“hey,” mike says, welcoming himself into your home.

“who is i-“ steve starts, but glances up to see mike, with will trailing behind “oh, what the hell, man?” he complains.

mike and will make themselves quite comfortable on your couch, squeezing steve into the corner.

you close the door and walk over to the couch, pushing mike over to make room for yourself next to steve.

“what are you guys even doing here?? aren’t you supposed to be at robin’s party?” steve questions.

“well, we were,” will starts, “but we got bored and we were close, so mike said we should just come here. you guys don’t mind, right?”

“oh, yeah we do-“ steve starts to say, before you cut in. “of course not! we weren’t doing much anyway.”

steve looks at you with furrowed brows and an open mouth, clearly annoyed.

“cool! what are we watching?” will asks

“well, we-“ you begin.

“superman?? aw man, this movie sucks.” mike interrupts. you look at him with wide eyes, “no way! it’s a classic. you just don’t have good taste.”

“they’re literally flying around in tights and underwear,” mike says as he reaches for the remote to turn it off, but you swat his hand away before he can grab it. “hey! you showed up uninvited to my house, you’re watching what i watch.” mike looks to will for help but will just says, “don’t look at me,”

mike slumps in his seat. “whatever,” he sighs.

steve shoots you a look of pride, “that’s right, don’t let him push you around.”

“i’m not pushing anyone around-” mike starts.

“you literally are,” will says, looking at him with a small smirk. “you barged in, insulted her movie, and went for the remote. just accept your defeat.”

mike opens his mouth to retort, closes it, and sinks deeper into his seat. steve snorts, watching the whole altercation.

the movie continues playing. clark kent fumbles through a phone booth, and steve chuckles under his breath. your hands soon find each other on the cushion, fingers lacing together.

about twenty minutes later, you notice will’s attention drifting. he keeps sneaking glances towards mike, who’s still slumped in his seat, arms crossed.

but mike’s not paying attention to the movie either. he’s watching will.

there’s a weird look on his face. soft, maybe even nervous..? nothing you’ve seen on mike wheeler before.

will notices him staring and cocks an eyebrow, “what?” he asks.

“nothing,” mike says quickly, too quickly.

will’s lips twitch. “you’re a horrible liar.”

mike whispers sharply, “i’m not lying,” his voice softens. “i was just.. thinking.”

“about?”

“nothing.”

“mike.”

“will.”

you and steve aren’t watching the movie anymore either, you’re more focused on what’s happening right next to you. you exchange a glance. steve’s wearing a barely suppressed grin that says oh, this is good.

“you two wanna get a room?” steve teases.

mike’s face flushes, and will’s ears turn pink.

“shut up, steve,” mike murmurs.

but will just looks at mike with soft eyes, and whispers, “maybe later.”

mike’s mouth drops open while will turns back to the movie like nothing happened.

you try and hold back a laugh, but steve doesn’t bother. he lets out a loud laugh, earning a sharp glare from mike that just makes him laugh harder.

everyone eventually quiets down and turns back to the movie, but the room feels different now. softer. warmer.

you’re tucked against steve’s side, his arm draped around you, thumb tracing lazy circles on your shoulder. and every now and then, you feel him press a kiss against your head.

but across the couch, something’s shifted too.

will’s hand rests on the cushion between him and mike. not touching, not yet. mike keeps looking at it like he’s building up the courage to do something.

it happens a few minutes later, mike’s pinky brushes against will’s.

will goes still, but just for a second. then, slowly, he turns his palm over. an invitation.

mike just stares at it. will doesn’t rush him, just leaves his hand there, waiting.

then, mike takes it. their fingers lace together, slow and careful. will lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

steve notices. he pinches your shoulder, signaling to look up at him. when you do, you see him looking at the two with a softness behind his eyes and none of the teasing edge from earlier.

“finally,” he mutters, only loud enough for you to hear.

you elbow him gently, but you’re smiling.

soon enough, the movie ends. the credits roll, the screen goes dark, but no one seems to make a move to get up. looking over, will’s head has found its way to mike’s shoulder, resting there.

“so,” steve says, breaking the silence. “you two gonna kiss or what?”

“steve!” you scold.

mike’s face turns a deep shade of red. will hides his face in mike’s shoulder, embarrassed, but you can see the smiling spread across his face.

“give ‘em a minute, harrington” comes a voice from the doorway.

everyone turns. steve was the first to speak up. “munson?? the hell are you doing here?”

“door was open,” he says with a shrug. “thought i’d come find you guys. robin’s party is lame without you. she put on a scary movie and dustin jumped so hard he knocked over the punch bowl.”

steve laughs, “of course he did.”

“anyway,” eddie continues, moving from the doorway and making himself comfortable on the floor. “what’d i miss? looks like you guys are having fun.”

“mike and will held hands.” steve announces.

“STEVE!” mike and will yell in unison.

“what? it’s news.” steve shrugs.

eddie grins widely. “wheeler and byers sittin’ in a tree-“

“finish that sentence and i’ll kill you,” mike warns, but there’s no real heat behind it. he’s still holding onto will’s hand.

will just chuckles softly, quiet and happy.

you look around the room at everyone. steve beside you, mike and will tangled together on the other end of the couch, and eddie sprawled on the floor, already looking for another movie to put on.

your apartment is full, and so is your heart.

steve catches your eye, squeezes your hand, and whispers, “i love you”

you lean up and kiss him, soft and slow.