compulsion

jess • 37 • she/her MDNI && prompts CLOSED follows from dancetilyouredead 🤍

[keer-y]

1000 follower event🩵

holy shit you guys !

i just hit my next follower milestone (1000?!) and honestly - i’m humbled and overwhelmed by the amount of love & support i’ve gotten since i started writing for these fandoms. i’ve made so many amazing friends and i love talking to everyone; my mutuals and my anons and even just people who comment once or twice 🤍

to thank you for everything, i’m going to be running another little drabble prompt event. i’ll be writing 10 drabbles of 1000 words each for the following characters: gator tillman, steve harrington, teacake meacham, nancy wheeler, robin buckley - all x reader. please note the ONLY reason i am excluding keys is because i’m also going to be running 4th of key-ly soon so please save your prompts for that.

this prompt event will be for my followers ONLY to request from me so i am TURNING ANON OFF. it is first come, first served. if you have an idea, go ahead and drop it into my ask. please keep it SIMPLE. you all know i have a tendency to go overboard and i would really like to keep these to ~1000 words if i can!

smut is ok, fluff is ok, whatever you like is ok, but please check my blog guidelines for the list of things i will not write. if your prompt includes something i will not write, i will let you know, but this may also bump you out of your place in line and you might not get your prompt written so please be mindful!

if there is anything specific that you want in the drabble, include it in your ask! i’ll try my best to work it in.

love you all !

••••••••

slots filled: 7/10

[keer-y]

Fuck the Pain Away

pairing: gator tillman/f!reader wc: 1500 tags/tw/cw: MDNI//SMUT- [unsafe] vaginal sex; sex worker reader, emotions (but not acknowledging them), gator crying, implications of roy being a dickbag, technically public sex (they are outside), gator is younger than reader by a couple years if that matters to anyone a/n: from @morninglesss' prompt - here. fill #1 for my 1000 follower special🩵 &&

The moonlight casts the shadow of your picket fence over the front yard as you lower into one of the wicker chairs set on your front porch. It’s late一when you’d checked your phone before leaving your bed the time was 2:57AM and that had been a few minutes ago, before you’d stepped out onto the worn wood with a lighter and pack of cigarettes, draped in a pair of loose linen shorts and a tank top to try and find a respite from the stagnant air inside.

It’s hot outside, too一too hot for the late hour but that’s the way it is sometimes, sticky heat of summer days hanging around for far too long. It’s going to be hot tomorrow, too, but for now, at least, the fresh air feels nice. The breeze helps, even if it’s hot too一at least the air is moving.

The porch swing on the other end of the deck sways a little as the breeze kicks up and just as quickly dissipates. Up the dirt road, you see the dual pinpricks of headlights. You flick your cigarette, smoke wisping up to the awning above you, ash fluttering down to the ashtray.

The vehicle approaches一at this hour there’s only one person it could be, but there’s nothing indicating it’s him or that the car will even stop at your house.

The headlights loom over your yard from the curve in the road, and the pickup does indeed stop, right in front of your gate. You sigh, turn your head, exhale the cigarette smoke into the breeze as the truck’s engine cuts. The headlights turn off, the door opens and then slams shut, too loud for the hour.

You know why he’s here. Barely a couple years younger than you, he used to come just to get his dick wet. Now he comes when his daddy is cruel to him. He trusts you. That’s unfortunate.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he passes through the gate, boots heavy on the brick of your walkway. His footsteps turn to hollow thuds when he ascends the steps of your porch.

He slumps into the wicker seat beside you. “My fuckin’ old man—”

With your left hand, you flick your cigarette again, then reach out with your right, cutting him off. Your fingers thread through the soft hair at his nape.

“Well, you’re with me now.” Your thumb rubs over the short fuzz of buzzed hair behind his ear. He melts against your hand.

“Ain’t got no cash. Just—had nowhere else ta go.”

That doesn’t matter to you一it hasn’t in longer than you would like to acknowledge.

“I’ll give ya the frequent flyer discount,” you joke. He turns to you; you see his posture just slightly change in your periphery.

You stub your cigarette out into your ash tray, stand, turn, and move to face him. He looks up at you, slides down into the seat so his back is bowed against it, his lower half practically hanging off of the chair. You wait as he undoes his belt and disrobes, the waistbands settling around his knees, his cock already hard.

In the dark he can’t discern your expression, your look一but he can feel it.

“Thought about it the whole damn drive over. Got m’self all worked up.”

You bend at the waist to stub your cigarette in the ashtray, then leave the butt as you step closer to him, one of his legs between yours.

“Don’t have ta think no more,” you say, as you climb onto him, the wicker chair groaning as it bears both your weight. “I gotcha now.”

Straddling him, you reach down to tug the loose leg of your shorts to the side and sink down onto his cock in one movement. It’s easy, familiar. He fills you so well, the little grunt of satisfaction he makes causing your core to throb around him as you sit on him, thighs spread wide. 

You know he’s getting right when he sniffs, short and clipped, trying to hide it.

“Just need someone t’show ya some love, ain’t that right, honey?”

The wicker chair creaks beneath you as you roll your hips on top of him, sweat rolling down the nape of your neck, half from the little bit of exertion and half from how fucking hot and thick he feels inside you, the heft of him, the weight of his solid prick pressing against you from all angles. The position he’s in precludes you from getting any closer to kiss him, really, so you let your hands do the work for your mouth.

Skimming over his front, feeling him through his thin white tee, one hand curls gently around his throat, feeling his pulse pounding and his nervous, stuttered swallows, trying to hold it all in. The other moves to his cheek. It’s wet, and you carefully wipe beneath his eyes with the pads of your first two fingers, following up with your thumb.

“‘Sall right,” you mutter, your knees pressing against his thighs as you barely lift yourself off of him just to drop back down, taking him deep, your own chest clenching a little as he sniffles again, just barely, clearing his throat to distract from it or hide it. “You came t’the right place.”

His hands find your hips, holding them tight, but not to guide you or move you一he clings to you desperately because from what you can gather, not that he’s all that forthcoming, you’re the only thing he has to straighten himself out, work through the bullshit, get his frame of mind recentered.

You fuck him raw, leaning over him, his hands on your waist supporting you as you sink onto him one last time, taking him all the way to the hilt, squeezing down on his cock to milk it from him, palm flat on his chest as you feel it. He’s shaking, silently, your fingers wet with his tears, reappearing every time you try to brush them away with gentle swipes of the back of your hand.

“You’re all right, honey,” you mutter, and you feel his heart rush beneath your hand. “Gator. You’re all right.”

He gives a little cough as you feel him start to work through it, his hips rolling up into you from beneath, and he moves one hand down to rub you through the thin fabric of your shorts, fingertip pressing the seam against your clit. Even through the linen, it feels good, and you sigh. 

“Yeah, ‘at’s right,” he slurs, voice thick with arousal and emotion. “Love when I touch ya like that don’tcha?”

“Love it,” you breathe, the breeze fanning over you both, lazily fucking on your porch when the night is darkest, him using your body to parse everything he’s got swirling around in his own. “Make me feel good, Gator, c’mon.”

‘’At’s right,” he says again, absently, his fingers rubbing at you through your shorts, hot and wet, your arousal soaking the fabric. “Show me how much ya love一it.”

You sigh his name, curling your fingers in on your palm and coasting your knuckles across his cheek, trying to dry his eyes. His breath catches when you do, his cock kicking inside; you feel him come before he even seems to realize he’s about to, and the whimper that falls from his lips hits you right in your heart.

“I love it,” you whisper, feeling his fingers press just a little more firmly against you as he fills you, another groan pulled from his chest as you say it. 

You both know the unspoken meaning behind the other’s words.

“Come on, darlin’,” he says, dragging circles over your swollen clit as you soak the front of your shorts. “Go on ‘nd prove it.”

You can’t make out his face, the rooftop above you blocking the moonlight from reaching either of you一but you hear how badly he needs it, so you grind down against him, feeling the ridge of his cock in all the right places, his fingers coaxing you to your end, until you come too, around him, atop him, your hand sliding back to tangle into his hair again, lips parted as stuttered gasps emanate from you in time with the ripples in your cunt.

You come down, still holding him一Gator still holding you一and your shaky breaths mingle in the still early morning air until the scant wind picks up again, taking everything between you and scattering it into the dark.

It’s not a permanent solution一it’s barely a solution at all一but if it helps the kid for a night, you’ll gladly tamp down your feelings until the morning.

So will he.

&& taglist: @sunriseinhawkins @snoopyharrington @ghostlyriddles @souperbloom @sheisjoeschateau @cheugy-djobe @cpnsteverogers @nowandajenn @configurre @cecesblogg @britt-mf @harringtondarling @valentine-night @charismatickeery @charlston-chews @bearwithegg @starkleila @sommie08 @xoxocelestial @s3xytosomeone

(adding @djoaholic and @cha0ticstranger because he do be cryin)

[keer-y]

Congratulations on hitting the big 1K!!! 🍾🎉🥳

My prompt is something along the lines of, it’s too hot to sleep and Reader’s sitting on her porch at 3am trying to hide from the heat inside her place, when surprise!!! Gator’s truck rolls past on patrol. He stops, parks up, and gets out. There’s nothing to do in this town at this hour except talk, and they’ve both already decided they’re not going to do much of that. What are they to each other? What are they doing? Who knows, let’s find out. 👀🤷‍♀️🔥

you sent this 14 hours ago according to tumblr and i have not stopped thinking about it since. legitimately. i kept waking up through the night to jot down ideas of phrases i wanted to use. i hope you love it <3

enjoy - read it here!

[keer-y]

1000 follower event🩵

holy shit you guys !

i just hit my next follower milestone (1000?!) and honestly - i’m humbled and overwhelmed by the amount of love & support i’ve gotten since i started writing for these fandoms. i’ve made so many amazing friends and i love talking to everyone; my mutuals and my anons and even just people who comment once or twice 🤍

to thank you for everything, i’m going to be running another little drabble prompt event. i’ll be writing 10 drabbles of 1000 words each for the following characters: gator tillman, steve harrington, teacake meacham, nancy wheeler, robin buckley - all x reader. please note the ONLY reason i am excluding keys is because i’m also going to be running 4th of key-ly soon so please save your prompts for that.

this prompt event will be for my followers ONLY to request from me so i am TURNING ANON OFF. it is first come, first served. if you have an idea, go ahead and drop it into my ask. please keep it SIMPLE. you all know i have a tendency to go overboard and i would really like to keep these to ~1000 words if i can!

smut is ok, fluff is ok, whatever you like is ok, but please check my blog guidelines for the list of things i will not write. if your prompt includes something i will not write, i will let you know, but this may also bump you out of your place in line and you might not get your prompt written so please be mindful!

if there is anything specific that you want in the drabble, include it in your ask! i’ll try my best to work it in.

love you all !

••••••••

slots filled: 5/10

[keer-y]

5 slots filled, 5 still open! send in your requests 🤍

[keer-y]

Short Straw

pairing: steve harrington/f!reader wc: 9.1k tags: sex pollen, dubious consent, multiple orgasms, [unsafe] vaginal sex, a lot of come. too much a/n: thank you thank you thank you to @tinfoileddd, nice to write smth silly and fun. and disgustingly filthy yay go read lid's sex pollen fic here!

&&

“Someone has to go,” Nancy says, looking around the room at the five of you, congregated outside of the Byers’ home. Each of you eye one another, no one wanting to volunteer for such a task. 

You can tell Steve wants to, though. You can tell he wants to even though he’s still reeling from what happened the last time the group made the trek to the Upside Down, because that’s who Steve is and that’s what Steve does, and when he can step in to avoid anyone else having to, he will. 

Steve opens his mouth, but you speak over him.

“Whoever it is shouldn’t go alone.” You cut him off, because if Steve is going to volunteer himself as the sacrificial lamb to see if something down below is causing the thick dust raining down onto Hawkins, you want him to at least have someone there with him.

“Well,” Robin says. “I don’t think it should be me.”

“That’s fine,” Jonathan quips, rolling his eyes a little, but you speak up again before Steve can, almost stumbling over your words as he opens his mouth because you want to get your idea out first.

“We should draw straws,” you suggest. “That way it’s random and fair.”

Steve clamps his jaw shut, looking over at you from the corner of his eyes.

“I agree.” Nancy nods. “I’ll go check with Mrs. Byers.”

“I’ll go,” Jonathan says. “I know where they are—she’s busy with Will.” He pauses, then sighs out the word, “Probably.”

He turns on his heel and leaves the four of you standing in a square, Robin’s shoulder pressed against Steve’s, while you look from them to Nancy, concern etched over your face. 

“This just feels,” you say, “I dunno. Bad.”

“Yeah, because it is,” Robin says. “This is like, the worst bad it could possibly be. Like, Defcon level 5 bad.”

“That’s the least bad one,” Steve says.

“What?” Robin asks, absently, almost like she forgot what she’d just said.

“Defcon 5,” Steve repeats. “That’s the lowest one. Defcon 1 is the really bad one.”

“Ok, then it’s Defcon 1,” Robin echoes him. “Whatever. Any Defcon sucks!”

The group lulls into an introspective silence until the front door to Jonathan’s house opens and he returns, clutching a handful of straws. He returns to the circle, fidgeting with the straws until he’s back between Nancy and Robin, and then just holds out his fist so you can all pull a straw from his hand.

“Three long,” he specifies, “two short.”

He offers them to Nancy first, who takes a breath, chooses a straw, and—admittedly—looks a little bit miffed that it’s not a short one.

Robin reaches out next, plucking a straw from Jonathan’s hand before you can. She tugs it free. 

Long.

Jonathan moves his hand over to you and Steve, and Steve gestures to you to pick first—there’s only one safe straw left, and he’ll suffer Jonathan if he has to, to make sure that none of the women in the little quintet you’ve cobbled together are in danger.

Taking a breath, you pinch the straw on your right between your thumb and index finger, before changing to the one on your left. You ease it out of Jonathan’s hand, and just swallow thickly when you see you’ve pulled a short straw. 

A slight tension settles over the group as you huff a short laugh through your nose, because of course that’s your luck. 

“Great,” you say, wanting to flick the plastic away but instead you hang onto it, watching as Steve and Jonathan stare each other down.

“You’ll be fine,” Nancy says. “Steve or Jonathan will be with you.” She steps closer. “Do you want to trade?” she adds surreptitiously. She’s more capable than you, she’d be the obvious choice—but you were screwed over by your own idea, so your integrity feels like it’s forcing your hand.

“No, it’s—you need to stay here with Mike. And…Will. If Jonathan ends up going with me. I’ll be ok,” you reply, glancing over at her. “Thanks, though.”

“Just pick one,” Jonathan is saying to Steve, and you watch as Steve reaches for the straw you almost chose first, taking it with no hesitation from Jonathan’s closed fist.

It almost pains you to see that it’s also short, so you’d have been going no matter which you chose. Typical.

Jonathan opens his hand to show his straw is long, just for the fairness of the game, and you turn to Steve, ignoring the way Robin is bouncing a little in place, hands curled into the hem of her sweater before she releases it and just crosses to you, putting her hands on your shoulders.

“You’ll be so fine,” she says. “Steve won a fight against a, like, Russian soldier.”

“He what?” you ask, but before you can get an answer, Steve just steps between you and Robin and meets your eyes.

“Let’s go,” he says. “We’re gonna need to gear up before we head down there again.”

&&

You end up with an old canvas jacket over a tank top, one that Mrs. Byers found for you in the back of the hall closet, the sleeves a little too long. Nancy approached you, shoving her own boots into your hands, and said you’d be better in those, as opposed to the tennis shoes you had on. Steve is still in his jeans too, now wearing an old t-shirt that Jonathan provided. It looks a little too small for Steve, his shoulders a little broader, but it’s hidden beneath his bomber jacket. He only shrugs his shoulders, stretching the fabric out over them before he leads you outside, Jonathan trailing behind, the designated driver to get you to the crossover point.

“You’ll be fine,” he says, mostly to you, because Steve looks a hell of a lot more composed than you do, your breath a little thin, your eyes unblinking as you fixate on nighttime scenery as it passes by. “It一shouldn’t be like, you know, before.”

“No bats?” you ask, almost laughing, because even though you saw the evidence of their story firsthand, even though you’ve been around long enough to know every detail they provided is true, it still sounds crazy to speak it aloud.

“No bats,” Jonathan promises, even though there’s no way he could realistically know.

“Ok,” you say, looking at Steve in the backseat. His jaw is set, and when he feels your eyes on him, he looks over at you.

“You can still sit this one out,” Steve says, and to his credit, Jonathan doesn’t speak for you.

“What do you mean?” you ask, frowning. “I一got a short straw.”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve says, “but you shouldn’t一have to. You’ve never gone down there, and you should keep it that way.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jonathan glance up to look at Steve in the rearview, undoubtedly wondering if the fucking Hair is gonna try to pull him along and leave you with the car.

“It was my idea,” you say. “I pulled a short straw fair and square.”

“Having to go down there isn’t fair,” Steve says.

“Well, you went last time, so having to go again is what’s not fair, isn’t it?” you counter.

“That’s not what I said一” Steve tries to protest, but again, you speak over him.

“I’m going,” you say. “End of story. The quicker you accept that, the easier this will be. Stop一thinking about me and focus.”

Steve huffs a little noise of disbelief, but quietens down and the rest of the drive passes with just the sound of the engine and the tires speeding over the asphalt, potholes and cracks in the road making him slow the car to a stop.

“This is as far as we can drive,” Jonathan says, holding his foot on the brakes as you and Steve both hesitate, looking at the red glow of the rift a bit further up the street, the entire area abandoned and desolate, destroyed by the X-shaped fissure quadrisecting Hawkins’ downtown.

What look like ashes or fiery motes dance above the broken earth, and you force yourself to move so Steve has no choice but to follow.

You feel for the door handle, not taking your eyes off of the red glow ahead of you, and push open the squeaky door, stepping out of the car. The gravel crunches underfoot as you stand and move back a step, slamming the door. Behind you, you hear the rear driver side door creak and slam too, and you look back to meet Steve’s eyes over the roof of the car. Neither of you speaks, but neither of you has to.

“I’ll be here waiting,” Jonathan says, to Steve一he’s rolled down the window on his side. “As long as it takes. But don’t take too long.”

“No sweat,” Steve says, clapping his hand onto the roof, displacing some of the dust that’s already settled onto the car, just by virtue of idling in one place. “We got this.”

You wait for Steve to start walking forward, joining him as you traverse the rocky, destroyed street, the headlights from the Byers’ car illuminating you from behind as you go.

“What’s it like down there?” you ask, carefully stepping over a large chunk of blacktop.

“It’s…” Steve says, his voice trailing off. “Not great.”

“That helps,” you snip, because you’d like maybe a little preparation before you dive in.

“I’ll go first,” Steve says. “it’s一a little trippy. Just… give me a sec after I go through, and then I’ll catch you.”

“Catch me?” you ask, but Steve’s already adjusting his jacket, fiddling with the flashlight he’s holding, running a hand back through his hair, dusted with whatever the fine granules are that have been falling over Hawkins constantly for the last day.

“It’s一I mean, it’s called the Upside Down for a reas一you’ll see. Just. The dizziness will pass quick, promise.”

You open your mouth to say something else, but even as you do, you realize you have no idea what to say or to ask. So instead, you just watch as he crouches down beside the rift, fingers curling over the edge, and as he leans forward, you look back to Jonathan, who’s standing outside the car now, leaning against the hood, watching you both.

When you turn back to look at Steve, he’s gone.

You startle, because yes, you expected it, and yes, you knew this was all real, but for some reason his there-one-second-gone-the-next disappearing act throws you.

“You can go,” Jonathan says, encouraging. “He’ll一be ready by now.”

“Have you gone down there?” you ask.

He pauses, then shakes his head. “Not yet.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, then snicker. “I’ll send you a postcard.”

He hesitates, then smirks. “Bon voyage.”

You hold his gaze for another moment, like he’ll stop you一of course he won’t, you wouldn’t if you were him一and then replicate Steve’s movements as closely as you can remember. Crouching down. Gripping the edge. That was all you’d seen, but you close your eyes and tip yourself forward, expecting一actually, you have no fucking idea what to expect, and as your own body weight propels you forward through the rift, you feel strong hands grip your upper arms, pulling you through the rest of the way until you’re in an environment that feels colder, inherently. Like there’s no warmth here, no sun, nothing living, only death and decay and rot.

You stumble, because like Steve told you, there is a moment when your equilibrium is so completely off it’s almost like you have vertigo. He does catch you, as promised and your hands grip his arms back for a moment until your body reorients itself and you can stand without holding onto him.

“Thanks,” you say, looking around. It’s uncanny一you’re in Hawkins, downtown. It looks the same but still so drastically different that you feel as though you’ve just stepped into a nightmare.

“Come on,” Steve says, gently, and you can tell he doesn’t want to linger in one place too long. His hand is still on your arm, even though you’ve turned enough that you can walk beside him.

All of the air is stale down here, and as you walk through the inverse version of your hometown, you start to become attuned to the strange sounds of this place, the一odd clicks off to the side, a rushing roar occasionally from behind or above you, but you never see anything, never feel anything other than Steve’s fingers pressing into your arm through the jacket.

You don’t know how long you walk for, and you lose your bearings in the dimness of the Upside Down, but Steve is confidently striding forward like he knows exactly where you are and where you’re going. Between you, it’s silent, which you don’t mind一just the sound of your breathing and a few short exclamations when your foot twists on a rock, or Steve drops the flashlight, his quiet little “Oops” actually making you smile a little as he ducks down to pick it up, wiping the dirt from the lens.

You walk further, Nancy’s boots clomping alongside Steve’s quieter hiking shoes, and when you reach the base of a hill, you both stop.

“Up?” you ask, and Steve finally releases your arm. You feel the absence like a presence, because you hadn’t realized how much it was comforting you until it was gone, but he glances over at you, nods, and then gestures for you to head up first.

“I’ll follow you,” he says, “make sure you don’t slip.”

Making sure you don’t fall一It’s thoughtful in the way you expect from Steve, even though you don’t know him that well. You’re only wrapped up in this insanity because you know一no. Knew…Eddie. You knew Eddie. He was your neighbor, a couple doors over, and you were friends in that way where you waved to each other when you were grabbing the mail, or said hi if you happened to pass at the store, or noticed when a girl died in his trailer while he was screaming bloody murder and had to go on the lam. It was hard not to get involved when you’d rushed outside to see what the fuck was going on with all the noise only to watch him split seconds later, peeling out of the lot. 

Your first mistake had been even stepping out your front door that evening. Your second mistake had been peeking inside his trailer, your third had been finding that Henderson kid he had mentioned to you a few times in passing…and probably your fiftieth fucking mistake had been suggesting drawing fucking straws to see who got to pay a fucking visit to this scenic fucking shithole.

“Over there,” Steve says, as you crest the hill, pointing vaguely in the direction of a thick copse of trees. “Pretty, uh, dusty.”

He’s right: The trees are surrounded by what looks like a hazy cloud of dust, dense enough to look like fog from afar. It’s practically shimmering even in the darkness, and as Steve shines the flashlight toward it, even though you’re a good distance away, it looks like you’ve agitated it, almost like being illuminated caused the fine particles to move faster. Like observing them made them, somehow, aware of your presence.

You dig the toe of your boot into the ground below you. “So that’s where it’s coming from then,” you say, eager to leave. “Let’s go tell Hopper and Dustin and everyone.”

You start to turn, ready to head back the way you came, but Steve’s arm hooks around your elbow again. You try to suppress how having him back in contact with you does make you feel a little bit better once again.

“No, come on. We need to see if something’s…doing that.”

“It’s just us, Steve,” you argue. “We don’t know enough about anything down here to just go walking into…whatever that is. It looks like…someone cast cloudkill or something.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow at you. “Please tell me you didn’t just bring D&D into this.”

“That’s what it looks like!”

“Dustin would be so proud.” He smirks a little to himself. “Ok,” he says. “I’m gonna go take a closer look. They’ll want to know more and I’d like to be able to answer whatever questions we can when we’re back topside. Just wait here.” He takes off down the hill, minding his steps as he goes. 

“Wait,” you try to call after him, not wanting to be too loud. You watch as his flashlight beam moves over the dust again, the swirling almost appearing to move faster as he approaches it, like it wants him to reach it. “Steve!”

You hiss the word as loud as you dare, and he pauses, stopping at the bottom of the slanted ground. 

“It’s ok,” he calls back up to you. “I’ll be right back.”

“Let’s just go back!” you say, glancing around behind you as something一somewhere back the way you came from一makes a noise that disrupts the otherwise quiet landscape. That clicking sound again.

“I promise it’s fine,” he says. “I won’t be long.”

“No, Steve—” you say, and he pauses, watching with pursed lips as you start forward.

“Come on, then,” he says, resigned, waiting for you as you also make your way down, the ground uneven and the dirt sliding beneath your feet as you descend.

He’s still in the same spot when you reach him, and he holds out a hand for you to take if you need it. Your gut wants you to reach for it, for him, but you ignore the impulse; you’re back on (mostly) flat ground now, you can walk without assistance. Besides… you both might need both hands readily available if shit goes sideways. Or, uh. Upside down.

You flinch at yourself for even thinking it, because that was stupid. So stupid.

“Hold on,” Steve says, holding his arm out horizontally so you stop walking, because while you were in your own little world lamenting your dumb joke, you’d gotten even closer to the treeline and the dust is very, very much thicker here.

“Oh,” you say, because the way it’s clouded there, it reminds you of when freshwater and saltwater meet but can’t mix, different viscosities preventing them from commingling. “That’s…”

“Weird,” Steve says, and before you can suggest that this is definitely enough information to bring back to the group, he steps forward, approaching the trees.

“Steve!” you hiss. “What the hell, why are you like this?”

He looks back at you, a faint smile quirking up one side of his mouth. “I wish I knew.”

You stand outside of the range of the… dust, or whatever the hell it is, until he reaches the trees. Even from where you’re standing, you can see when he shines the flashlight over them, they look diseased, dead, the bark crumbling, the trunks covered in thick vines. They shine a little in the light, covered in sap or… something far more vile.

“Come back,” you implore him, but he doesn’t listen, and you’re not sure if he can’t hear you or if he just ignored your request. “Steve!”

“It’s fine,” he says. “Come here, it looks like… just come here.”

You don’t want to, but you do, because the entire reason you’re even here is so Steve didn’t come down into this place alone. The air doesn’t smell or taste different when you take a step forward, but it feels softer almost, brushing against your skin like baby powder, and by the time you reach Steve, you feel like you’ve been wrapped in silk, or velvet maybe, like the very air itself is cradling you.

“Look at this,” he says, moving the flashlight closer to the vines. “Do you see that?”

You look closer, not sure what he means at first, until you do see it. It looks like a stem broken off of the vine, like a flower had been there and was now gone. You can see a scattering of them all up and down the vine, and the vines beside it; the entire tree is covered in the same stems. Like it had sprouted blooms once, but they’d shriveled, losing their petals but the central disc where the pollen collected remained.

“Flowers?” you asked.

“I don’t know…” Steve said, reaching out toward one of the stems.

“Hey!” you said, grabbing his wrist with both hands, stopping him before he can touch it. “We’re not touching them. No way.”

“It’s fine,” Steve said. “Just… back up a little.”

“Please don’t,” you say, not moving. Steve extends his arm again, using it to guide you back, and then presses one of the un-petaled flower stems down. You hold your breath, but nothing happens, and when Steve moves his hand back, the stem just rises back to its previous position, unremarkably.

“See?” Steve says, looking back at you. “It’s fine.”

You exhale heavily, nervous still, even though you now have the empirical evidence that yes一it was fine.

“I guess,” you admit, and before you can react, Steve is walking past the treeline, between the old, creaking trunks, twigs snapping beneath his feet. “I swear to god, Harrington…” You mumble it mostly to yourself, and then follow him, because you don’t want to have to explain to anyone that you lost Steve because you were too scared to follow him into some trees.

Even though you’re fairly certain, like, anyone would understand.

He’s stopping at random trees, shining the flashlight on them, but every flowered vine you find looks the same as the first one一flowers, no petals, the center bare of any pollen or residue.

“Maybe we can just一take one of the stems and bring it back. And leave. Now.”

“We don’t know that’s what’s causing the dust,” Steve says, and you actually grab him, spin him around, and stare him down with your hands on your hips.

“I think,” you say, lifting your hands exasperatedly into the air, “we can extrapolate that they are what’s causing it.”

But he’s not listening. You can tell because he’s looking behind you, the flashlight just a little bit off to your left. You turn to see what’s caught his interest, and find it immediately. It’s one of the flowers, but not barren. The petals are a sickly green-blue, the same as the rest of the vines, and the disc is very clearly covered in a thin layer of pollen. Steve shuts the flashlight off and you see how he noticed it一it’s bioluminescent.

“Oh,” you say again, looking back at him. “That’s…even weirder.”

“We should bring that one back,” he says.

“I still don’t think we should touch it,” you say.

“Yeah,” he agrees, surprising you. “Probably not, but一I mean…if we can learn anything about anything it’ll be from that one, right?”

“I…” you start to say, then sigh. “I guess.”

“All right, just,” he says, handing you the flashlight. “Hold this.”

“Do you need the light?” you ask, running your thumb over the button to turn it back on.

“No,” he says, stepping past you and reaching up toward the flower. “I got it一”

As soon as his fingers touch the stem, the flower reacts一actually reacts. It appears to contract, the way you’d expect a Venus fly trap to close when its prey triggers it, and then the petals fall away, down over Steve’s hands, his face, and the pollen follows, the glimmering particles landing on him, on you, wisping away through the trees to settle, no longer glowing, wherever they fell through the stagnant air.

“Steve!” you scold him, but even as you do, you start to feel… off.

“You ok?” Steve asks, turning to you. His eyes meet yours and you feel a pull, you feel the same vertigo you felt when you first arrived here.

“Yeah,” you say, before the world slides sideways. “Wait. No.” You move to brace yourself against the tree, pressing the side of your forearm against it, letting your forehead rest there for a moment as you try to compose yourself.

“No,” Steve echoes you. “Yeah, me… me neither.”

“What the hell was that?” you ask, turning the flashlight on. With the beam lit up again, you can see how shaky your hands are, because you angle it up and despite your best effort, you simply cannot keep the stem of the flower that exploded centered in the light. “Jesus Christ,” you mumble to yourself, dropping the lit flashlight because seeing yourself so obviously affected by whatever you just inhaled is making you feel even more scared than you already are.

You register Steve moving away from you, walking around in the tight space, shaking his hands out like he’s trying to rid them of something.

You suck in a breath.

“Are you like. Hot?” you ask, pulling off the heavy jacket and draping it over your shoulder, just to have something to do with your shaking hands.

“What?” Steve asks in return, but you can hear the tightness in his voice.

You swallow, stepping away from the tree, and because whatever the fuck is happening to the two of you is happening, you bump into him just as he nears you with his pacing, neither paying any mind to the other. Where his hand brushes your arm, your skin tingles, tightens—feels like it’s going to blister. And then it happens to the rest of your body.

But just as quickly as it does, it dissolves away, leaving you feeling cold, wanting.

“Are you ok?” Steve asks again, in a way that you can tell he felt whatever that was too. But also in the way that you can tell he’s, maybe, handling it a little better.

“Still no,” you say. 

“Right,” Steve says. “Yeah. ‘Cause you just…” he trails off, and as soon as he mentions it you realize, belatedly, that the searing feeling of his bare skin against yours—your arms mind you—made you loose a moan from deep in your chest, low and unbidden, soft but heavy.

The moment hangs between you for a second, your heart hammering in your chest, an uncomfortable pressure starting to build between your legs.

“Hey,” Steve says, and you look up at him, and when you do you realize he’s much closer than he was moments ago, and he was already right beside you. “Hey, do you, um…” he trails off, and in the ambient light emanating from the flashlight on the ground beside you, you can see his gaze drop down to your lips.

Instinctually一because all of a sudden you feel like every single impulse and sense you have has been reduced to its basest level一you let your eyes lower to his mouth too, and when you see them, when you watch as his teeth worry his lower lip between them, when you see his cheeks hollow for a moment, when you catch a brief glimpse of his tongue, the same question that you’re certain he was about to ask you pops into your mind, and you answer what he didn’t even ask.

“Yes,” you say, and without further hesitation, without any thought at all, you take his face in your hands and press your lips to his.

Simultaneously you feel both immense relief and immeasurable desire, your stomach churning, your lips parting as Steve groans into your mouth. You can’t help but press your hips to his, parting your lips to let his tongue lick against yours, and your hands curl into his hair as you kiss him wildly, tongues and teeth and absolutely no reticence, the desperation clear on your part and his.

“Fuck,” you mutter as his hands tug your tank top up, pushing it over your tits, not bothering to unclasp your bra but just shoving that up and over your chest too, and you don’t even care that he’s undressing you in the middle of the weird ass woods in some alternate dimension. You don’t care that you’ve been stricken with the urge to fuck some guy you barely know, and only know because of some of the direst circumstances in history. You don’t care that he’s caging you in against the tree, the vines and bark scraping against your back as he leans down to bypass your neck completely and latch onto one of your tits, his mouth working at you in a way that you could tell on an ordinary night in an ordinary bed in ordinary Hawkins would feel wonderful, but now is only making the ache between your legs worsen, because you need part of him in contact with part of you and it’s not his mouth on your nipple.

“Steve,” you gasp, tone high, thready. “I need一oh my god, I can’t一” you stop yourself, because you know what it is that you want but you can’t very well tell him that you need his cock. You do not know each other like that, but as soon as the thought crosses your mind, he pulls back from you, shrugging off his jacket as well, letting it fall to the ground behind him as he undoes his jeans and shoves them down.

You’re on him before he even pulls his hands away from the waistband一both hands wrapping around his shaft, coaxing him to hardness even though he’s already most of the way there. Your entire being shudders with relief as soon as you feel his hot, girthy cock in your hands, and he rushes you back against the tree, mouth taking yours again as you stroke him with both hands, smearing the copious amount of precome he’s leaking all down his length. He’s so wet it coats your hands, your wrists even, as you accidentally let them brush against him as you jerk him off.

“This is”一you gasp out as he breaks away to move his lips down to your neck一“weird, right?”

“Yes,” Steve answers, but even as he says it, he’s moving his hands from your waist to your front, fingers curling into the waistband of your jeans and slipping the button. He undoes the zipper and doesn’t even bother trying to lower your pants down to your thighs like his are一he just shoves his hand into your underwear, palm skimming below your belly button until he reaches your mound, his middle finger sliding between your lips to touch your clit, the pad of his finger rubbing over it, not gently, but hard, harsh, immediate pressure that should feel good, but does absolutely nothing for you.

Strangely, you realize一you’re getting more enjoyment out of touching him, than you are from him touching you.

“God, that’s good,” Steve breathes against your mouth, and you realize he must be feeling the same一only getting any relief when he got his hands on you.

“What’s happening?” you ask, lips on the corner of his, breath warm on his cheek.

“I don’t know, I一” Steve says, licking into your mouth before pressing his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes as he thrusts his hand down further into your jeans, the force of it moving them down your hips without any help, and then his fingers are sliding through your folds. “You’re一so wet一I, I never felt anyone like, like this一”

“This is fucking,” you stammer, but the thought of exactly what it is leaves you as he curls two fingers inside of you, and he shudders in relief. You pull him closer by his cock, letting one hand move over it as you reach lower, cupping his heavy balls in your hand, massaging them and tipping your head back, eyes fluttering closed as you do.

“We should一stop,” Steve says, but you shake your head, then nod, then shake your head again.

“No, we can’t… Don’t want to,” you admit.

Steve’s voice is thick like honey, dripping with arousal as he speaks to you, tucking his cheek against yours so he can whisper directly into your ear. “Take一take everything off. Turn around.” It’s dark and deep and you reluctantly release his cock, let him slide his fingers out of you, and then the two of you strip the rest of your clothes off, denim landing on the dirt and leaves, his shirt landing in a heap as he helps you with your bra, and then you’re both naked in the cursed forest, and he’s pressing himself against your back, hands roaming your front. It feels nice but does nothing to assuage the arousal still coiling in your belly, and you push yourself into him, the heated skin of his cock smearing precome over your ass as his hips slide against you. 

“Steve,” you whine, and your tone spurs him into action, his hands landing on your hips, pushing you down, down to your knees and then all fours, and then one of his hands is sliding down your spine to stop between your shoulder blades, and then the next thing you know, your shoulders and tits are being pressed into the dirt, your ass up in the air, presenting yourself to him. You turn your head as much as you can to look back at him, straining as he holds you down.

He’s kneeling behind you, and you watch as his eyes meet yours, hazy with lust, with desperation, and he only nods once at you before you see him reach for his cock with his free hand and press the head against your weeping slit.

Your whole body quivers, and you would have pushed back if he wasn’t keeping you firmly in place, your arms trapped beneath you, hands scrabbling for purchase on your own thighs, holding onto yourself as you feel the pressure on your pussy increase when Steve leans into you with purpose.

He enters you in one deep, thick stroke, and as soon as you engulf him, as soon as you feel him splitting your walls open on his cock, you shudder and come instantly with a loud cry, sobbing from momentary relief, pleasure raining down over you as the sheen of sweat on your skin worsens. Your entire body is aflame like you’ve got a fever, and you clench around Steve's cock when you feel his hips grinding against your ass as you realize that he came too, suddenly, with a harsh gasp. 

But then he’s moving again, back out of you and then pushing in, pushing desperately, chasing the feeling again. Because your first orgasm wasn’t satisfying, barely any of the edge siphoning off despite how much it affected you, and the way he’s digging his fingertips into your hips as he pounds at you tells you his wasn’t either. He’s fucking his come back into your pussy, easing the slide, your thighs dripping with it already as flecks of his release land on your skin. 

“Steve,” you say, voice watery, because you haven’t even come down from your first orgasm and you can already feel another one cresting on the horizon.

“Do you一does this一feel good for you, t-too?” he asks, and you know he’s asking because he must feel the same as you一unsatisfied, wanting more, chasing another and another and another.

“Yeah, it一” you say, gasping as he leans over you, drilling his cock into you even deeper, reaching places inside of you you’ve never felt on your own. “You feel so一so good, Steve, please just一” You falter again, but unless you say it how will he know? How will he know how badly you want this, want him, unless you tell him? “Just keep一going, keep, keep coming in一in me, oh, god, I…” 

You’d feel embarrassed to sound so wanton and lewd if not for the way he answers you, pressing his hand more firmly against your back, sliding it up to your neck, and then finally, relenting for a brief moment so he can tangle his fist into your hair and use it to press your face down into the dirt.

“You have no一idea,” he replies, his hips snapping against your ass, his cock coated with his own spunk, your fluids, dripping down onto his balls, onto the forest floor. “How good you一you feel, around一fuck, you’re so一so一” He fucks into you again, and you feel his cock twitch deep within you, coming again, his release flooding you, his rigid cock not softening and not leaving your cunt, not fully anyway.

His voice sounds slightly more even when he speaks, but still frenzied.

“You feel that?” he asks, and you nod, sliding one of your hands up your stained thigh, sticky with your arousal. “Feel me inside you, right? Feel how一what you’re doing to me?”

“Steve,” you whimper, as he starts moving again, the wet sounds coming from between your bodies obscene, the sound of him fucking his own come loud, filthy, and it ensnares you, your lips parting of their own accord as you feel the saliva dribbling out of your mouth, but you can’t do much to stop it, not with him holding you down, with your arms tucked beneath you, with the way you’re now rubbing at your own clit because you feel so full with two loads in you that you need to come, need to feel it leak out of your hole around his cock, need the force of your orgasm to empty you so he can do it all over again on a clean slate.

“I can feel you,” Steve says, voice choked as he slams into you and stops, straightening up, releasing your head and your hair and clamping his hands down on your hips, rolling his front shallowly against yours, letting his cock just barely move out before it dips right back in, and the stretch of your slit around him, the feeling of your own hand working at your clit, finally sends you over the edge and you turn your face into the ground, hiding your shame as you realize he just came a third time, your pussy milking the orgasm from him as it spasmed and clenched down, begging it from him. The dirt sticks to your face, your lips and chin and you squeeze your eyes closed as you feel him pull out一again, not fully, only partly because you chase him, leaning back into him, wanting him to stay rooted deep within you一but even as you do, you still feel the thick drops of his come ooze out of you around him, rolling down your thighs, collecting in the crease of your knees.

“Do you feel any一better?” Steve asks, and in spite of the question, he pushes back into you, displacing more of his semen, forcing more of it out around him, staining your front along with his this time.

“Yes,” you answer, “no一can you fuck me a-again?”

Steve’s hands smooth over your back一you feel a little less heady, a little less one-track minded, but the burn is still there, the one that needs him moving into you again, pounding his front against your back, giving it to you over and over.

“I still need it too,” he says, and that makes you feel marginally better until he leans over you, letting his back rest against your front, letting your legs support his weight on top of you as he circles both arms beneath you, one hand pressing against up against your stomach, the other moving between your come-covered thighs to nudge your hand away and let his fingers work at your clit this time.

“Fuck一Steve,” you sob, because he’s not moving this time, just letting his cock sit inside you, heavy, slick with his own spunk, and his breath is heavy in your ear as he just rubs your clit, letting you squeeze down on him, unmoving inside you. Your walls flutter around him, gripping him tight, and Steve’s hand on your clit feels worlds different than your own did一your orgasm takes you over by surprise, hitting you out of nowhere so strongly that you buck back against him, wanting to feel him deeper even though he’s fully seated in you, riding out your orgasm with you until you sigh, eyes closed, cheek pressing to the dirty ground, smearing your own drool against the detritus below you.

His fingers slip away from your clit and he starts moving again, and even though you want it, you whine, the noise in your throat crackly and petulant, and without pulling out of you, needing to stay joined the exact same way you do, he holds you tight against him and rolls the both of you onto your side. He’s still inside you, and with the same arm that he’d just had looped around your stomach, he hooks your leg on his wrist, pulling your leg up to the side and holds it there, out of his way, exposing your cunt as he fucks you from behind this time, the new position just as intense but so, so much better, your back resting against his front, his skin slick with sweat as he clings to you, almost as desperate as you feel. 

“Almost一almost there,” he says, and you’re not sure what he means, because you’re still bleary with arousal, still want to come on his cock countless more times, still want to feel him lingering inside you for days.

“Please touch me,” you beg, “need you一need it to be you, it doesn’t一work when it’s me, Steve, please一”

“Sh,” he hushes you, his voice soft as he leans a little further into you, rising to prop himself up on his elbow. He doesn’t release your leg一to the contrary, he leans forward, pushing your leg further up to the crook of his elbow, holding your legs open at an even wider angle, and lets his now free hand slip between your folds to find your clit.

You sob when he does, because you come again the moment he touches it, the swollen bead throbbing beneath the pads of his fingers, kicking under his ministrations as he doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, and you rise to your peak again, barely even coming down from the first一or maybe you just didn’t stop coming. You don’t know, you don’t care, because after this many, you’re starting to feel like yourself again, but the feeling is still there, you still need more.

“It’s一so much,” you mumble, and Steve presses a short kiss to the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“You feel so good, though,” he says, his hips still curling into yours, his cock not as deep now, both of you contorted around each other, back to front, limbs entangled, his fingers on your clit, the head of his cock in the perfect position to rub repeatedly against your g-spot, and you shudder a sigh as you feel yourself come again, weaker this time, your cunt sopping and sore.

“Come in me again,” you ask weakly, because each time he did, each time he filled you to the brim and it spilled out of you, a little bit of the haze lifted, the feverish impulse lessening.

“Almost,” he replies, thrusting into you, the head of his cock nudging your g-spot and you feel another orgasm beginning to rise, but not strong enough to overtake you yet.

“Please,” you beg, desperate now that you can feel the end might be in sight. You taste dirt in your mouth and feel itchy, skin irritated from twigs and leaves on the ground below you, but they’re the first sensations you’ve felt other than all-consuming arousal since the flower disintegrated onto you both, and you welcome them.

“Just一hold on another一another一” Steve says, and you feel him circle your clit quicker as he fucks into you, his cock dragging against your walls as you tighten up around him, and when he snaps them forward, up into you, shot after shot of his come spurting from the tip of his dick, your whole body tightens, loosens, releases after another orgasm一weak, feeble, and final, you hope一and then you still. Both of you, still, filthy, sweaty messes on the ground, dirty and sticky, skin slick between your thighs, his chest sticking to your back as you pull away from him. You stay on your side, wiping your face with the cleaner of your two hands, scraping away the dirt and spit stuck to your chin. You hear Steve behind you shuffle to his feet, and then his bomber jacket is draped over your shoulders, just to give you some modicum of modesty until you can stand and dress yourself.

“What the fuck happened?” you ask, wiping at the rest of your face now, adjusting the jacket to cover yourself as you feel his spend slowly trickle out of you. You twist, looking up at Steve where he’s standing, pulling his jeans back on. He uses his shirt to wipe his dick clean, his thighs, and then looks over to you.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he says, and zips his fly before kneeling beside you, making to lift the jacket to wipe you clean with his shirt too, but you bat his hand away. You wanted him so desperately, had him, even, the two of you unable to control yourselves, and now you don’t even want him to look at you.

“Can you get me my一shirt,” you ask, pointing to where your tank top landed.

Wordlessly, Steve gets you your clothes, handing them to you and looking away as you shift yourself to your knees. You suppress the whimper as you feel yourself gaping, the sticky mess of his come falling from your pussy lips, and you try to clean yourself up as best you can, dressing yourself in your jeans and snapping the jacket closed to hide the fact that you’re now shirtless. You both leave the other soiled garments in the woods.

The first half of the walk back is silent, your stoic expression unchanging even as Steve continues acting exactly as he had before: Letting you walk ahead of him, keeping an eye on you to make sure you don’t trip, illuminating your path with the flashlight rather than his own.

“Um,” he says, once you start to see the reddish glow indicating that you’re nearing the rift. “Can we talk?”

You sigh. Heavily. “About what.”

“About一what just happened.”

“What happened?” you ask.

His eyes widen, like he’s not sure whether you’re really asking. “We…had一”

“I know what happened, Steve,” you snap. “I mean, why? What was that stuff?”

He closes his mouth, then his eyes, lifting his hand to cover his face for a moment before letting it fall to his side again.

“I don’t know. But I just一I wanted to check whether you’re ok now.”

“I’m fine,” you say, a little sarcastic, but biting it back because he got the same faceful of fuck pollen as you did. “Don’t worry, you won’t catch me begging for your dick again any time soon.”

He blanches, then takes a step toward you. “Hey, that’s not what I meant.”

“Can we not一talk about it?” you ask.

Steve hesitates, frowns. Then nods. “Yeah. Whatever you want.”

&&

The drive back to the Byers house is awkward. You let Steve sit in front next to Jonathan, let Steve answer the questions, let Steve tell Jonathan no一don’t drop you at home. You end up in the driveway of Jonathan’s house, waiting inside Steve’s BMW as he goes in and gives all the details to Nancy this time. He returns the jacket to Mrs. Byers.

He’d been careful with what he said to Jonathan. Some trees, weird flowers, some kind of pollen. It knocked you out for a little while, he explains, some kind of fever or something, that’s why you’re both filthy and sweaty. But you both feel fine now.

Sure.

Steve emerges from the house in another shirt, a polo he’d changed out of before this whole mess, and rounds the hood of the Bimmer. You watch him, wondering why you didn’t interrupt when Jonathan offered to drop you at your place. It would have been easier. You could have shut yourself up inside and never looked twice at Steve again. You only just got involved in this bullshit. You could extricate yourself just as easily.

But you didn’t.

You’d stayed with Steve even when you had the chance for an out.

You’d allowed him to insist that he drive you home, because he wanted more time to talk to you. Which you didn’t want to do but, admittedly, was probably a good idea.

The driver’s side door slams shut as Steve climbs in. You don’t move, legs pressed together, arms crossed over your chest, and Steve fiddles with the keys, not putting them in the ignition.

“So一” he starts, but you cut him off.

“I don’t want to talk outside Jonathan’s house,” you say.

“Right,” he says, starting the car and shifting into gear, heading out back onto the road. He clears his throat. “So.”

“Yeah?” you ask, and he just clears his throat again.

“Are you ok?”

It’s the question you expected but weren’t sure if he would actually ask. Because you’re not, and he’s probably not either.

“I mean, physically,” you say. “Sure.”

“I’m sorry. Obviously I didn’t一know,” he says, drumming his thumb on the steering wheel.

“I’m not blaming you, Steve.”

“It’s my fault.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” you say. “But I said I’m not blaming you. How could you have known, really.”

He glances over at you to find you already looking at him. You shrug as if to impart the age-old adage, c’est la vie. Even though it’s really, really not.

There’s another few minutes of silence, the car humming quietly in the night, and it’s almost peaceful except for the mess still between your legs, your body reminding you of it every time he hits a bump in the road and you feel sore all over again.

“That place… I shouldn’t have let you go down there. It changes you.”

“I’ll say,” you snarked, and Steve looked over at you, a little shocked at how blasé you were in that moment, then huffed an unamused laugh.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Yeah, I know. It’s一”

“No, for一bringing you. Jonathan should have一”

“I’d love to hear what would have happened if it had been you and Jonathan down there,” you say, keeping your face turned toward the window.

“Ok, well一that’s一” Steve stammers, and you can’t help but laugh a little.

It feels nice, actually, laughing after needing to use Steve’s body in the most perverse, insane way ever, and letting him do the same to yours.

“You didn’t have to drive me,” you say, as Steve turns into the lot where you still live, both of you averting your eyes from Eddie’s residence. Or… what used to be.

“I wanted to,” he says, simply, and when he pulls up outside of your door, he puts the car into park and turns it off, pulling the key from the ignition.

“What are you doing?” you ask, eyeing him as he reaches for the door handle and pockets his keys.

“Walking you to your door,” he says, like it’s obvious.

You want to question him, but you don’t. You just get out of the car, slam the door behind you, and wait for him to move next to you. You lead him, and when he follows you up the steps, holds the door for you when you open it, and enters behind you, you don’t question that either.

Nor does he wait for you to. “I don’t… sleep that great anymore, after… you know, going down there. Figured you might want. I dunno. A friendly face nearby. Just in case.”

You undo the jacket’s fastenings, but hold it closed, your bra shoved into the pocket, your upper half bare beneath the canvas.

“Ok,” you say, not fighting him on it, and just point at the couch behind him. “You can stay there. My mom works an overnight shift so if you can be out by 7:00, I’d appreciate it.”

Steve looks behind himself, then nods. “Sounds good.”

You wait for him to turn and settle down onto it before padding down the hall to the bathroom. The door sticks when you close it, so you never do, just leaving it barely ajar as you strip off the jacket and your jeans, the crotch still wet with Steve’s come. You leave the clothes in a pile on the floor and start the shower, waiting for the water to warm before stepping in; in the meantime, you examine yourself in the mirror. There’s still some dirt scuffed on your cheek; you try to wipe it away with the heel of your hand but it isn’t budging, so you just check yourself out otherwise instead. Your lips are still swollen from where you’d bitten them. You’ve got some bruises and scrapes on your shoulders and chest, your arms and elbows, but there’s no pallor to your skin so you figure you’re fucking fine. Just peachy.

You pull the shower curtain and step in, scrubbing your body hard, your arms and legs, focusing on the marred areas of skin, the places you know need some extra care. You wash thoroughly, your face, your thighs, everything in between them, and when you emerge wrapped in a towel, you see Steve dozing off on your couch. 

You pull the towel tighter around you, watch him for a moment longer, then call out to him.

“Hey.”

His eyes flutter open, taking in the sight of you in the hall, squinting a little like he might have missed something in the interim of sitting down and waking up.

“You ok?” he asks.

You don’t answer一at least, not what he asked you. “My bed’s more comfortable than the couch.”

He studies you一you can feel the force of his look even with how far away he is. He hesitates.

“I’m only offering once,” you say, and that, at least, gets him to move, shifting his weight to the edge of the sofa cushion.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure,” you say, unwavering, and he makes his way from the couch to the hall, looking down at you as he steps past you into your room. You follow him inside and close the door behind you with a low click.

&& taglist: @sunriseinhawkins @ghostlyriddles @souperbloom @sheisjoeschateau @cheugy-djobe @cpnsteverogers @nowandajenn @configurre @cecesblogg @britt-mf @harringtondarling @valentine-night @charismatickeery @charlston-chews @bearwithegg @starkleila @sommie08

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thinking about gator crying again😈

aw man i have that whole concept in a draft i gotta write

dw it’s coming down the pike!!

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imagine finding out gator’s best kept secret is that he does murdle every day

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get me back

pairing: teacake meacham/f!reader wc: ~2k tags: MDNI//SMUT- oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, squirting, masturbation (m), cumshot on titties &&

“You know, they say I’m pretty good with my hands, too,” Teacake says, and you lift your head from the pillow, looking down your body at him as he slides said hands up your bare waist, skimming over to your front to cup your breasts.

“Who?” you ask, because barely seconds ago he was talking about everything he wanted to do to you with his mouth, and now he was on his hands…? “Who’s they?”

You ask it with just a pinch of annoyance because why would he be talking about anyone else when you’re in the middle of hooking up? You’re not exclusive, not really, but it’s still a little strange to talk about other conquests in the middle of sex, right?

But he just grins at you, leaning in, moving himself up and over you, flicking his thumbs over your nipples as he presses a kiss to your lips. You notice he pointedly doesn’t answer, but when his lips meet yours, you find you don’t really care either. Because in addition to, apparently, being very skilled with his hands, he’s goddamn superb with his mouth and that’s a fucking fact. You’d probably tell everyone you could if you talked about that kind of thing with people一his tongue swipes against your lips, begging entrance, and you let him in一ok, maybe you’ll start.

He kisses you slow, deep, his tongue moving against yours as you moan just from the feeling of him licking into you, his hands still at your chest, circling your perked nipples, massaging them in opposite directions, making you arch up against him because he certainly was not lying, you can attest to that now.

And it’s not that you weren’t aware一he’s just that your previous handful of hookups had been so quick and rushed that it was basically just kissing, then you climbing on top of him or bending over something for quick and dirty sex. For the first time you actually had the privacy of your bedroom, and he was actually taking his time with you.

“T-Travis,” you mumbled against his lips as he pulled back, and he let his face remain close to yours, the tip of his nose and his lips brushing over yours as he spoke.

“Can I try something for you?” he asks.

You attempt to focus on him, though he’s so close that it’s not that easy to do. “What?” you ask, searching his face.

“Want to try to getcha to come real hard, babe,” he says, kissing you again, sucking your upper lip between his. “Getcha to come on me, if I can.”

You study him, his breath warm on your cheek as he tilts his head, questioning, hoping you’ll say yes.

“You want me to一squirt on you?” you force the word out, because that was not what you’d expected him to ask, though you’re not… opposed.

But Teacake only gives you a shy little grin that turns impish the longer you look. “Like I said一I’m real good with my hands, babe, I promise.”

His earnestness makes you laugh a little, not derisively, but in genuine amusement, happiness.

“Um, yeah. Ok,” you say, reaching up to tangle your hands in his hair, wrapping your fingers around the strands as you tug him back down to kiss you. He meets your lips and kisses you, soft, sweet, for just a moment before he pulls away from you, moving down between your legs. He kneels between them, and you look down your body as you take him in. Strong thighs and a thick waist, his half-hard cock bobbing a little each time he moves, and his hands coming to rest on your knees. His broad chest isn't quite heaving, but you can tell how excited he is just at the prospect of what he’s about to do.

Dragging his palms down your thighs, Teacake moves himself further down the bed, coming to rest on his front, your legs framing him as he bullies his way between them, shoulders pushing your legs up a little as he presses close in to you; your heels come down to dig into his back, and he leans up and over you to lay a tender kiss on your mound, right where your slit begins, and as his lips linger there, they part and his tongue eases itself down into your folds, finding your clit一you tense and lift your hips into his face, and he just rolls with it, moving with you, undulating his tongue against you as you reach down again, taking a fistful of his hair and holding onto it.

Travis hums quietly against you, drawing your clit gently between his lips, sucking softly on it as he moves one of his hands up, the backs of his fingers tracing over your thigh so you know what he’s doing. You shiver at the glancing touches he’s giving you, until finally his fingers slide against your lips, moving between them to feel for your slit. You whimper when he does, one of his fingertips moving into you, but he doesn’t commit fully to it yet一instead, he just turns his hand and rubs at it, feeling you squeezing down on nothing from the outside.

“Travis,” you whine, and you feel him huff a little bit of a laugh through his nose, but he doesn’t pull away and he doesn’t stop or slow down. He just traces his tongue over your clit before finally, with a touch of urgency now, curls his middle finger inside of you, both of you reveling at the feeling of it; he closes his eyes at the way you tighten down on him, and you arch up off the bed just a little at the intrusion, longing for more fucking immediately. You clench down on his fingers, squeezing him, and he interprets what you want, he must, because he pulls his finger out of you, angles his ring finger beside it, and pushes back in, and you nearly cry out because it feels so goddamn good. He’s not moving too fast, too deep, too hard; he’s for the perfect angle and has them curled just right inside of you that when the pads of his fingers brush your g-spot, you gasp aloud, desperate, hands fisting the sheets now because there’s nothing else you can think to do with them. Just hold the fuck on as he fingers your tight cunt.

“C’mon,” he says. “I know you got it in ya.”

“Travis,” you whimper, lifting your head to look down at him as he pulls away from your clit and instead works on your pussy, rubbing you inside, not hard but firm, focusing intently on your spot. You feel your pussy twitch around him, your whole cunt throbbing. You reach a hand down to rub at your clit, and Travis kisses your wrist as you do, watching your touch yourself as he does too.

“God damn, that’s a sight,” he mutters, and you just lift your other hand from the sheet to curl into your own hair, then fall back to grip the pillow, holding onto it as you roll your hips, riding Teacake’s fingers as he keeps stroking your g-spot.

“Feels一really good,” you breathe, feeling a rush of heat and wetness between your legs as your whole body shudders. You’re getting close to your orgasm because you’re touching your clit, but it doesn’t deter Teacake at all一he just starts fingering you now, properly, making sure to rub at your g-spot on every instroke, but he’s giving you firm pressure, the heel of his hand slamming into you in a way that might hurt if you weren’t so keyed up with pleasure already. Every time his fingers enter you again, every time they curl exactly right into your spot, every time your fingers circle your clit, you feel your body heat rise, your mouth dry, your eyes leak from the corners, and he pulls back a little, just a little, as your thighs start to shake.

“That’s it,” he encourages you. “Come on, babe, show me what you got.”

“Oh my god,” you half-shout一and then actually shout, because you’d felt close for a moment and then all of a sudden you were coming一no build up, no precipice, no leading to the edge. No, out of nowhere you were right there, and you watch, tears of absolute pleasure dripping down your temples as you come, hard, so hard Travis had to pull his fingers out of you, and as he does, you feel your body release, feel yourself let go一feel yourself squirt, the stream landing on Travis and your bed and your legs, your heels digging into his back so hard he can’t move away as you came all over him.

A wrecked sob leaves your lips as you finish, your cunt absolutely soaked, drenched and spasming, and you open your eyes to see Travis, beaming, his face covered in your come.

“Toldja,” he says, lifting his hand to show you his wet fingers, like that wasn’t incredibly lewd and adorably insane.

He straightens up, his chest wet with you too, the dark hair covering it glistening. You feel your pussy clench again, the sight of it almost primal, and you push your tits together, looking down at his cock一now fully erect.

“Your turn,” you say, and he smiles impossibly wider, standing over you on his knees, taking his cock in hand.

You lick your lips, letting your tongue peek out onto your lower lip as he strokes himself, thumb curling over the head of his prick each time he nears it.

“Come on, big boy,” you say, half-joking; you see Teacake smirk a little at the name too. “Get me back.”

“Oh, I’m gonna,” he says. “Gonna getcha right back. I’ll show you.”

His hand moves over himself faster as you play with your nipples a little, fingers sliding over them. Teacake watches, eyes flicking from your hands to your mouth, to your eyes, and when he meets them he smiles down at you, before lowering his gaze back to himself, watching his hand move over his cock, smearing precome now, his tip leaking.

“Gonna,” he says, and you mewl out an “Mhm…” to egg him on.

“Gonna,” he utters, leaning forward, his free hand coming to rest on the wall above your head; he angles his cock down toward your chest and holds your gaze, looking right into your eyes. He keeps stroking, his hand moving quickly over himself, streaking your arousal all over himself as he does, his hand still a little wet with your fluids一and then he’s coming too, thick ropes of his spend landing on your tits, your fingers. You rub it into your hard nipples, and he lets his eyes dip down to watch you, groaning as he finishes, groaning as you circle the hard nubs with your fingers, rubbing his spunk into your skin.

With a sigh, he lowers himself back down to sit on you一you maybe, accidentally, loose a rather undignified Oof as his weight settles onto you, but you’d never admit to it一and then he trails a finger over a line of his come that caught your collarbone.

“I think you won,” he says.

You look at your tits as good as you can一mostly dry, really一and then up to his, where his face and chest still have your release clinging to his skin. Even so, you say, “I think we both won.”

He clambers off of you, lying beside you, pressing himself against you一the feeling of it is filthy, debaucherous, knowing what you’re both covered in一and kisses your lips before he whispers against them, echoing you for emphasis. “We both won.”

&& taglist: @sunriseinhawkins @snoopyharrington @ghostlyriddles @souperbloom @sheisjoeschateau @cheugy-djobe @cpnsteverogers @nowandajenn @configurre @cecesblogg @britt-mf @harringtondarling @valentine-night @charismatickeery @charlston-chews @bearwithegg @starkleila @sommie08 @xoxocelestial

[keer-y]

is it possible that we get a travis squirting fic too? pretty please

YES

imminently

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sex pollen pt 2 baby come to me.

it’s gonna be a while my love there’s trauma to work through

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🌾

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Carriage House

You know you don’t belong on the Tillman Ranch. The sheriff thinks you do.

MASTERPOST••• Chapter 1: Business Hours Chapter 2: Dropout Chapter 3: Leads Chapter 4: Structure Chapter 5: Carriage House Chapter 6: Eights Chapter 7: Broken Chapter 8: Truth Will Out Chapter 9: Vindication Chapter 10: House to Home Chapter 11: Egress Chapter 12: Plans in Motion Chapter 13: Next Steps Chapter 14: The Man or the Monster Chapter 15: Second Chances

More to come…

[ongoing]

[keer-y]

i’m really looking forward to fridays because of carriage house!!! i’m so impatient and usually won’t allow myself to read unfinished fics because i need the full gratification (and also have been burned by many a fic being abandoned 🥲) but i’ve been hooked by carriage house since chapter 1. thanks for changing that for me.

things are really starting to ramp up!!! i feel like i say this after every chapter but omg roy is so evil. you write him so terrifyingly well!!

oh! thank you so much :) i am having the best time writing carriage house and i'm glad you're enjoying it too!

yes roy sucks and i hate him, he's the devil

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you're right ER is like extremely peak and i'm obsessed !!!

ik this isn't typically what you talk about on your blog and feel free to ignore this but i think carter is so adorable and endearing😭😭🥺🥺

(also im not very educated but i've heard about noah wylie being kinda controversial and if that's the case i don't support!!! )

ugh he was so good on ER too, his storyline was so djdjdjsnhd

oh idk i have no idea about him beyond ER and the pitt lol, oops

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i’m back and ready to catch up on reading carriage house and any other fics you may have written -🤿

hi! i don’t think i have posted actually anything else besides ch!

hope you liked it! 🩵

[exhuastedpigeon]

The first rule of fandom is have fun. The second rule of fandom is find an enabler and become an enabler. Yes you should write that fic. What if it was even hornier? What if it was angstier? What if you wrote it just for me?

[keer-y]

Will you ever upload Carriage House to AO3?

YES, i am just being super lazy about it. but yes i am going to absolutely.