#He looked like a fuckboi in the trailer

[ladykakata]

I'm just saying if Hades doesn't want him I'll fucking adopt him he's my son now bitch

I'd have to join the queue behind Spear Dad Achillies, Nightcore Mom Nyx and No Idea Where He Got That Rebellious Attitude From Mom Persephone though

[ctl-yuejie]

these moments™️ in the Only Friends Trailer

[lunarzstarz]

Bad Idea E.M

Pairing: Fuckboy!EddieMunson x Virgin!Fem!Reader

Content Warning: NSFW 18+ minors dni, drugs, first Times, oral (F receiving), fingering, protected sex, nicknames (Princess/Sweetheart), Eddie being a goof but also an asshole (Slightly proofread)

Summary: Not wanting to leave for college with your virginity still intact, you turn to your last resort that you know can only end terribly…

A/N: Been in a slump for a while and haven’t had time for writing, finally came up with this and got a bit carried away, definitely gonna be a part two!

As always, likes, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated <3

Word Count: 6.4K

This was a bad idea. 

The gravel crunched beneath your shoes as you walked through the trailer park, looking out for that familiar mop of frizzy curls or that beaten up van. Your breath curling in clouds in front of you with the cold, clinging to the thin fabric of your jacket and now regretting your choice of outfit. What sane person wears a skirt in the middle of winter? He’s definitely gonna know you’re desperate. However, as desperate you knew you looked, with your short skirt, hair done nicely and perfect makeup, you hoped your plan would work. 

You planned everything down to this moment around a week ago when you had decided you couldn’t leave high school without at least some sort of experience. The thought of going off to college without even having properly kissed a boy was embarrassing to you, it felt like everyone your age had lost their virginity but you. You felt left out when all your friends would laugh and joke about their first time or talk about their experiences, even if they didn’t sound that much fun, you just wanted to know what all the fuss was about. So you turned to your last option, one you’d known you’d probably regret in a few hours but it was better than nothing. 

Eddie Munson wasn’t just know for being the town freak, everyone knew he was a certified fuck boy. You were pretty sure he had slept with over half the girls in your year, it was like a game to him to see how many notches he could get on his belt. He’d fuck them, then never speak to them again, acting like it never happened or that they just didn’t exist altogether. It was almost sad to watch all those girls chase after him, some of them would stop him in the hallways, asking to see him again or “hangout”, to go on dates. He’d just laugh at them or call them by the wrong name, whether it was on purpose or he really did sleep around that much that he actually does forget you don’t know. 

You were starting to lose all hope, you’d been searching for ten minutes around the small area and there was no sign of him anywhere. Then you heard the sound of music blasting, echoing off the trailers to you from the other side of the park, it sounded like the kind of stuff he played in the school parking lot, it had to be him, so you followed it. It leads you to a trailer with Eddie’s van parked right outside. You drew a deep breath, trying your best to settle any nerves that you had and hurried yourself up the path so that you didn’t have enough time to second guess yourself and turn around. 

You knocked on the door without hesitation, using the time you had left to check over yourself to make sure everything was in the right place, hair and clothes pristine. Shifting your weight back and forth to soothe yourself, nobody answered. Maybe he just can't hear it over the music? You knock again louder this time. 

You knocked on the door without hesitation, using the time you had left to check over yourself to make sure everything was in the right place, hair and clothes pristine. Shifting your weight back and forth to soothe yourself, nobody answered. Maybe he just can't hear it over the music? You knock again louder this time. 

“Alright! I’m coming Jesus chri-” an agitated shout came from inside over the music, it was lowered then the door swung open. Eddie leaned against the doorway, hair disheveled like he had just woken up, even though it was turning six o’clock. He was wearing a tattered Pantera shirt that had some holes in it, revealing some of his fair skin and some grey sweatpants that hung low on his waist, a lit joint dangling from his plush lips. He may have been an asshole, but god he was a hot one. 

“Yes?” he shakes his head at you when you don’t say anything, curls drooping around his face. 

“Weed” you blurt out, muddling up your words “shit- I- sorry, I’m Y/n, I’m here to buy weed, um Chrissy told me you sell and-” you cut yourself off, too much information. You swore you saw the corner of his mouth twitch. Great not even five minutes in and he’s already laughing at me, so much for trying to act cool. 

“Right” he huffs in acknowledgement, taking a drag from the joint, studying you for a moment before disappearing back into the trailer. You stay put, your body succumbing to numbness with the cold biting at your skin as you wait for him to return, but he doesn’t. “Well, come in, it’s fucking freezing” Eddie calls from inside, so you step past the threshold into the living room shutting the door behind you. 

You stood awkwardly by the door, waiting for his return as you took in your surroundings, it was a lot more homely than you thought it would be. Hats and mugs lining the walls, you smile to yourself when you spot the Garfield one, similar to yours at home. The place smelt of a mixture of weed and cigarette smoke, coffee and man all masked with the scent of cheap lemon air freshener. 

There was some shuffling coming from down the hall, then Eddie emerged with a bag in hand, catching you staring at his home. “Maid took the night off” he says, snapping you from your thoughts, making you flinch. 

“Oh- I wasn’t judging or anything I jus-” 

“Well it's certainly not the Ritz” he gives you a sarcastic, tight lipped smile. 

“No, no I like it, it's cozy” you offer him a shy smile, you’re sure he’s received a lot of criticism for where he lives, trailer park trash some of the kids had called him. 

He’d heard it before from the girls he took back here, “it’s nice” is what they would always say with a small grimace on their face, they were only saying it so they could get in his pants, but for some reason he could tell you were being earnest. “Yeah well…here, half an ounce for twenty five.” 

You reached for your pocket to fish out the cash, then pause “Wait, Chrissy said you only charge fifte-” 

“I charged Chrissy fifteen, last time I checked, you’re not Chrissy” he looks you up and down, something about his stare making you shiver. “Twenty five or nothing” he says, holding out his palm and the bag from your reach, looking done with the whole ordeal already. 

You think for a moment, trying to come out with something to say, something that wouldn’t cut this visit short and stick with your plan. “How about if I suck your dick? Will you give me the discount then?” you offer, shocking yourself with your sudden boldness. 

Eddie’s eyebrows raise in slight surprise, then he huffs a laugh. It wouldn’t be the first time someone offered him a blowjob or sex or the occasional “I’ll show you my tits” in return for some free weed, wouldn't be the first time he’d taken someone up on it. He was just more surprised it came from you, hadn't expected you to say something like that. 

“I’d much rather prefer the extra ten bucks, thanks for the offer though, but you and I both know you’re better than that princess” he spoke to you in a tone that made you feel dumb, but you’d be lying if you said the nickname didn’t excite you a little. “Now, thirty or nothing” his lips curled into a smug grin. 

You roll your eyes “Fine, twenty five” you pull out your cash and shoved it into his palm, he tosses you the bag. You examine the fuzzy green plant while he counts the money, you’d never smoked before “Could you um- show me how to roll? It’s just I’m not very good at it, I’ll pay extra if-”  

He sets the money aside “Save it, look I’ll show you but after you’re gone, got it?” You nod “Sit down” he motions over to the couch. You took a seat and it was surprisingly more comfortable than it looked, Eddie taking a seat next to you, shuffling close so that your knees knocked together. You could smell his cheap cologne and musk that had been overpowered by the joint he was still smoking through the whole interaction. 

“Here, take this” he passes it to you “Now I’m only gonna do this once, so watch closely.” He lifted the grinder and started the process, you’re doing as he said and watching closely. “Don’t let it go out” he snaps at you, so you place the joint between your lips and puff on it like you’d done with cigarettes. Bad Idea. You start choking on the thick, strong smoke, not being used to it. 

“Jesus Christ-” he gets up and heads to the kitchen grabbing a glass and pouring water into it, racing back over to as you finish your spluttering. “You’ve never smoked before” he says more like a statement than a question. 

“What gave it away?” you croak out, thanking him for the water before taking a sip, he laughs a little. 

“I don’t know, maybe you almost choking to death? Better?” he asks once your breathing is normal again, you nod. “Here, try again, only a little” he instructs, you hesitantly hold the joint up to your lips again and take a small drag of the smoke, holding it in your mouth. “Right, now inhale” you do as he says, the smoke filling your lungs, catching your throat slightly but not as bad as the last time. 

You exhale “Better?” he asks again, returning to his spot next to you. 

“Yeah, I just wasn’t expecting it to be so strong.” 

“Nobody does, now watch” he says, picking up one of the rolling papers and starting the process over. You do try to pay attention like he said, but with each extra drag you took it became harder to focus, your attention wandering to him. Eyes straying to stare at his ringed fingers, his face, lips, his tongue poking out between them in concentration or when he licked along the paper to seal the joint. 

By the time he’s finished you feel light, not too high, but it has definitely made you relax, taking up more space, your bare thigh flush with his clothed one. “Thanks” you say a little breathless as he passes it to you, taking his back. You toss it over in your palm, examining it, he’d perfectly wrapped the plant, it made you wonder what other things those hands could do besides roll joints and play guitar.

“You should go now” he sighs, stretching out and laying back on the couch, spreading his legs to take up more room. 

“I should…” you drawl, about to get up and cut your plan short, no you’ve come this far already “But before I do, I need to ask a favor.”

He scoffs “I don’t do favors” he says, taking the final drag, giving you an unamused look. 

“Look, can you atleast hear me out?” you beg, he doesn’t say anything so you take that as a sign to continue. “It’s just- I know you have this reputation-” 

“I don’t fuck virgins” he interupted you, placing the roach into the ashtray “Not anymore.” 

“I didn’t even finish- I- how do you even know I was gonna ask that and how do you know I’m a virgin?” you say, trying to hide how guilty you looked. You hated how he read you like a book, how he knew that’s what you were here for even if your plan was just that, you hated that you really had been that obvious. 

“Well you all have this…look” he shrugs. 

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

“And you showed up here, unannounced may I add, in that short skirt in the middle of winter, looking all pretty and shit, wanting to suck my dick for free weed, you’re all the same, it’s funny really” he finishes, a smirk pulling on his lips. 

You tried to ignore the fact that he had called you pretty “For the record, I didn’t want to suck your dick” you muttered low, but he caught it, his smile growing. 

“See, you didn’t deny that I was right, you may as well stuck a sign on your back saying fuck me” he retorts, you could tell he was having fun getting under your skin. 

“Fine! You want to know the real reason I came here?” you snap. 

“Oh please sweetheart do tell” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm as he leans his head in his palm, acting like he was really interested with what you had to say. You glared at him, despite the fact you knew he couldn’t care less about why you were here, you continued anyway. 

“I leave for college soon, I just didn’t wanna go being a frigid fuck okay! I just wanted to do it before I left so I didn’t have to worry about it. I wanted to just lose my virginity then move on, no strings attached and seeing as you’re known for fucking basically anything that moves I came to you as a last resort. Is that what you wanted to hear?” You finish with a long sigh, folding your arms and falling back into the cushions. 

He’s almost stunned for a moment, then finally responds “Listen, I’m flattered, really, but like I said, I don’t fuck virgins, so I’m afraid your gonna have to finish your quest elsewhere.” 

“Why not?” you practically whine, maybe you were desperate, he was thoroughly enjoying it though. 

“They get all clingy after, hard to get rid of, expect me to be all nice and sweet and romantic” he says the word with a grimace, like it hurt him to even say it. 

“Well lucky for you I’m not looking for you to be sweet or romance me, trust me I knew that before I got here” you scoff “Look all you have to do is fuck me and I’ll be on my way.” 

“You wound me, I can be sweet” he screws his face up in faux hurt you just roll your eyes “If I wanted to that is, besides that’s what they all say, then they come crawling back for more, I’m just that good” he says with a cocky grin. 

“Oh please, you’re probably not even that good at it” 

He narrows his eyes at you “Oh you are good at this.” 

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about” of course you knew what you were doing. 

“Oh you most certainly do, I know what game you’re playing sweetheart and it’s not gonna work” 

You stand up to leave, brushing yourself off and reaching for your bag of weed “No, no, if you don’t want to fuck me that's just fine.”

It was the perfect angle for Eddie to catch a glance up your skirt, stealing a peek at your cotton underwear and the wet patch that accompanied them. He smiles to himself. It had been a few days since his last hook up, he was running out of options, he’d already fucked a few people that he enjoyed a handful of times, he’d didn’t wanna go back to them again, god forbid they start thinking they’re special. Maybe he should give you a chance. 

“Now, I didn’t say I didn’t want to” he grabs your wrist, not too tightly, easing you to sit back down, this time in his lap “You swear you’ll leave me alone after, no bullshit?” 

Your confidence from earlier now dwindling from sitting on the edge of his knee, you swallow “I swear, you won’t even have to look at me again.” 

That was apparently all the confirmation he needed because in an instant he was on you. He started off slow, pressing his lips softly against yours with small pecks, not what you were expecting. His hands came to rest on your waist, even though your shirt you could feel the burn it left behind on your skin, you kept your hands to yourself, not knowing where to touch. 

Eddie must’ve sensed this “Here” he mumbles against your lips “Like this.” He pulled back, guiding you to face him, placing your thighs on either side of his hips so that you were straddling him, cores flush together. He slid your jacket off your shoulders and tossed it aside, stroking down your bare arms until he reached your wrists, lifting them to rest your palms against his chest. You run your hands over the expanse of his clothed chest to his shoulders then back again feeling his warmth, looking back at him, he’s watching you intently “Better?” 

“Mhm” you nod, not trusting yourself to speak right now.

“Oh come on, don’t go so quiet on me now, I was quite enjoying your little games” he teases, leaning in to kiss along your jaw, starting to venture down your neck, teeth grazing your skin. 

“I-it’s better” you breathe out, you’d never been this close to anyone before. 

He starts placing wet kisses over the sensitive skin of your neck, you feel him suck onto you, not too harsh at first, testing to see how you respond. You let one of your hands slip up behind his head to tangle your fingers in his messy curls, pushing him further into you. Taking this as a hint he sucks harder earning a gasp from you, feeling his smug grin spread across your skin. 

You pulled him back, noticing the way he groaned, he liked when you tugged on his hair, you’d remember that. It was clumsy, but you crashed your mouth onto his and instead of him making a comment on how bad you were at making out, he quickly corrected you, tongue sliding over your bottom lip before you let him in. It was easier than you thought, the way you got the hang of it quickly following his movements as you explored each others mouths, both of you tasting the shared joint. 

Eddie’s hands that rested on your hips trailed down your legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he slipped them up the back of your thighs, groping at them, pulling you impossibly closer. You could already feel the hard on growing beneath you, his hands slipping further up your skirt to cup your ass and use it as leverage to grind you against him. 

“Oh-” you broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his at the feeling, your clothed clit brushing against him. 

“That feel good?” he asks, doing it again, harder this time. 

“Y-yeah” you let out a shaky breath and then he’s leaning up to kiss you again. Each drag against your core felt better than the one before, he had you gasping as he ground his hips up into you, groaning against your lips when he felt you start moving on your own. He returned his hands to your waist, letting you move at your own pace, mouthing at any skin he could get at. 

“Can I take this off?” he asks, tugging on the hem of your shirt. He felt you stop, eyes shooting open to look at him, he could see the hesitation. 

Nobody had ever seen you like that before “Okay, but- just” you couldn’t find the right words. He’d slept with lots of girls, all kinds, you knew that he wouldn’t judge you or at least you hoped he wouldn’t. 

“What?” he stops, sensing your sudden unease. 

“I- look just don’t judge me okay?” you reach for the bottom of your shirt and he stops you. 

“Why would I do that?” he looked sincere, but the Eddie you heard of, you didn’t think he was capable of such things. 

“I don’t know, it’s just nobody has seen me naked before, and I know you’ve seen a lot of girls, just don’t want you thinking I look weird or something…” you avoid looking at him, oh god what if he thinks I’m weird…

“Listen, I’ve seen you with clothes on and you look pretty fucking hot to me and you’ll probaly look even better naked and as far as weird goes unless you have some third tit I don’t know about, which I’m sure I’d still be pretty into, then you have nothing to worry about.”

You both burst into a fit of laughter at the third tit comment, but it makes you feel alot better and at ease. “Well, no, sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t” you say through your laughter. 

“Okay then, let’s see them” he says, the laughter dying down. You reach for your shirt and pull it up over your head, throwing it aside to join your jacket.

When you look back down Eddie’s smiling at you, well at your boobs, it makes you laugh again “I thought you’d get tired of seeing them by now” you quip, he looks back at you. 

“Trust me, I don’t,” he reached up to cup them, giving them a firm squeeze in their cups before reaching one hand around to unclasp your bra, removing it in record time. He looks up at you, like he’s waiting on something. 

“What? You want me to applaud you?” you tease. 

“Maybe, was thinking I deserve more than that though, maybe a prize?” 

“Maybe if it was your first time, but I know you’ve had plenty of practice, how many girls have you shown that trick to?” you cock your head at him, you enjoyed teasing him “I’ll get back to you though if they make a prize for the worlds cockiest bastard though.”

He rolls his eyes at you “Alright are you here to chit-chat or fuck me?” 

You felt his cock through the thin fabric of your underwear and his pants, he was hard as rock now, your confidence growing, you grind down against it. His eyelids flutter, head resting on the back of the couch “Do that again.” 

So you do, going back to what you were doing moments ago, quickly falling back into rhythm. Eddie grabbed and groped at your chest, kissing all over the new exposed skin, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth making you mewl. He sucked and nipped and caressed every inch he could get at until you were a whining mess.

“Please Eddie” you moan, hands raking through his hair.

“Here or the bedroom?” He asks, pulling off of your chest that was now covered in faded red marks and spit.

You chose the latter. He mumbled for you to hold on, picking you up and carrying you from the couch to the room down the hall.

He placed you down on the bed, you lay in the middle, head propped up on the pillows, looking around the room. It was messy, clothes scattered around the floor, books and sheets of paper with scribbled down lyrics, one had words on it that looked like a love song, you smile to yourself. How ironic.

Your attention is brought back to him when he starts to remove his shirt, revealing all the ink that was hidden behind it, you were taking it all in. You also notice the wet patch on his sweatpants where you had been sitting, your cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment “I’m sorry…” 

He looks at you confused, then notices what you’re looking at and that smug grin returns “It’s all good” he comes back over to the bed, climbing on to lean over you “Another thing about virgins” he starts, undoing the zipper on your skirt and looking up at you for confirmation and continuing when you nod. He pulls it off leaving you in just your underware, his grin spreading when he sees that your fucking soaked “They get wet so easily.” 

“Is that bad?” you ask, looking to find your underwear absolutely ruined. 

“Fuck no, it’s good, really good” he hooks his fingers into the waistband “Can I?” 

“Yes, please” you reply, desperate for him to finally touch you. 

He pulls them off of you, shutting your legs at the sudden cool air hitting your dripping folds. “Just gotta get her warmed up first though, don’t wanna hurt her” he says, guiding your legs apart. You were confused on what he meant by her, but soon caught on that he was talking to your cunt, flushing at the realization. 

He got level with it, you felt so vulnerable like this, his face inches away from your center. “W-what are you doing?” you ask, as he placed soft kisses to the inside of your thighs. 

“Do you trust me?” he pauses, resting his head on your leg. 

“Not in the slightest” you tried to bring that teasing side out again. 

“Good” he smirks up at you “I promise it will feel good, haven’t had a complaint yet.” 

He sees that uncertainty again and takes your hand “Hey, I promise” he tries again and for some reason you believe him. The way he looked at you, it made you feel different. Eddie wasn’t what you had expected, a lot softer, more caring, sweet and nothing like the rumours you’d heard. Perhaps it was because of the comment you made earlier “I can be sweet…if I want to.” He wanted to be sweet with you, but how many other girls had he been sweet with? Maybe he was just being like this to prove a point, you had to remind yourself you wouldn’t be the first and certainly not the last. You weren’t special, he was only doing this because you begged him to, because you were desperate like all the other girls before you. You had to remember that. 

“Always wondered if you’d taste as good as you looked” he says, looking up at you from between your thighs. Always? You were so sure Eddie didn’t even know who you were until about thirty minutes ago, even if you did go to the same school, it was almost like he’d been thinking about you for a while. No. You told yourself that wasn’t what he meant. 

You weren’t given enough time to over think his choice of wording anymore, not when you felt his tongue press against your entrance before licking a long strip all the way up your center to your sensitive clit. 

“Holy shit!” you practically scream, your hand flying up to cover your mouth, you hadn’t been expecting it to feel like that. It was different, but a good different, fucking brilliant different. Your reaction only fueled his ego, so he continued lapping up everything you gave him. The sounds were lewd. You’d feel embarrassed if it hadn’t felt so good. 

You looked down to find him already staring up at you with those big brown eyes, grinding his hips into the mattress below you. He sucked onto your clit, tugging on it and pulling off with a pop “Come on, let me hear all those pretty sounds you make.” He reached up to pull your hand away, placing it by your side “I like it when they’re loud, it’s good for the reputation” he gives you that cocky grin and you glare at him, but before you can think of something to say back, he’s diving back in again to devour you like a man starved. 

You can feel the coil in your stomach tighten, but everything hits you tenfold when he slips one of his fingers into you making your back arch. His touch felt so good, he definitely knew what he was doing, you were beginning to understand why all those girls came crawling back even after he treated them like shit. 

You felt his second finger push into you and with his hands being bigger than your own, the stretch was there, the slight pressure building, but he’s quick to ease you through it. “Oh fuck- Eddie please I’m gonna-” you’re cut off when he latches onto your clit again, curling the two fingers up into your sweet spot, leaving you moaning his name like a prayer. 

Your hands reach for his hair, your grip tight, tugging on his scalp making him groan into you adding to the mix, making you tip over that edge. Your thighs closed around him, he didn’t mind though, he relished in the feeling of you grinding against his face as you rid out your high. “Fuck-” you whimper, he wasn’t stopping, dragging your orgasm out for as long as he could. It was entirely different to any you’d given yourself, stronger, you felt it through your whole body, like electricity running through your core. 

You had to pry him away when it got too much, your thighs trembling with the oversensitivity. Your head falls back onto the pillows, breathing unsteady. “That was-” you couldn’t even find the words. You open your eyes to find Eddie hovering over you with that smug grin, lips puffy and chin glistening with your arousal. 

“Still don’t think I’m any good?” he leans down to kiss you again, you could taste yourself on him, it made you ache. 

When you finally came back down from your high, you were grabbing at him, his hair, chest, arms, waist, anything to bring him closer. You wanted more, needed him inside of you. You let your hands wander, sliding down the expanse of his stomach to the trail of hair at his waistband, he pulled back. 

“You sure you’re ready?” he asks, brushing away the stray hairs that had stuck to your forehead. 

“Yeah, I’m ready” he gives you one last peck before getting up to remove his sweatpants, opening up the bedside drawer and pulling out a foil packet and tearing it open with his teeth and rolling the condom down his legnth. You were staring at it. You’d never seen a dick in person, so maybe it was just because it was your first time, but he was big. It was definitely gonna be a stretch, you’d heard from others that the first time is almost always painful. 

“You okay?” Eddie asks, sitting on his knees between your legs, hiking them up around his waist, his cock resting against your folds. 

“Y-yeah, I’m okay” you swallow, diverting your eyes back to his. 

“It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but if you need me to stop at any time just let me know, ‘kay?” he was rubbing soothing circles into your hip with the pad of his thumb, trying to get you to relax again. 

“Okay” you nod, voice weak as he starts sliding his tip through your folds, nudging your clit, earning small gasps from you. It catches on your entrance and you screw your eyes shut, bracing yourself for what was coming. He pushes into you, one inch at a time, going slow and watching you for any signs of discomfort or pain. 

The stretch was there, feeling like a dull ache, but nothing like you were expecting. “Just relax” Eddie’s voice made you release the breath you were holding. 

He pushes over half his length into you and you whine, the ache growing a little, but you loved it, you wanted all of him. “Please Eddie” you reach for him, bringing him closer to you, pushing the rest of him inside as he comes face to face with you. You’d never felt so full. 

“Fuck- you can’t just do that” Eddie groans as he bottoms out, feeling your tight walls stretch around him. He was leaning over you, using his forearms on either side of your head, caging you in, watching your face contort beneath him as you adjusted to his size. “Look at me” he whispers, so close you could feel his warm smokey breath on your neck. You open your eyes and he smiles down at you “How’s that feel?” 

“Big” you sigh, the air having been knocked out of you, he laughs. 

“I’m gonna start moving now” he warns you before pulling his hips back slowly, his cock dragging over spots deep inside of you that you hadn’t even known existed. Eddie starts his slow, languid pace, pulling out and thrusting back into at a painfully slow speed. He kisses all over, cheeks, lips, neck, chest, easing in and out, checking in on you, it feels great, but you need more. 

“Can you go a little f-faster?” you gasp, his tip nudges over your sweet spot. 

“Don’t wanna- shit- hurt you” he curses when he feels you squeeze around him, struggling to hold himself back from doing what he really wanted to. 

“Please, I can handle it” you plead “I want it harder, please” voice going up an octave as his hips snapping into you. 

“Don’t think I’d be able to stop if I do Sweetheart, are you sure?” 

“Yes! Please, just- just fuck me already” you huff, frustration building. 

He pulls all the way out until it is just his tip inside, then slamming back into you with brutal force. Your back arches off the mattress, hands twisting in the comforter beneath you as he starts fucking into you at an animalistic pace that had you seeing stars. 

“B-better?” he pants, head falling into the crook of your neck. Maybe it was a praise thing with him, maybe that's why he slept around so much, the validation. 

“Fuck- s-so much better” you cry, hands reaching up to run along his back, nails digging into his pale flesh when you feel him start to bite on your neck, sucking a bruise into your pulse point. With each thrust, he rocked his hips against you, the coarse hair at his base grinding against your clit. 

You slid a hand up along his shoulder blades to the nape of his neck, finding purchase in his hair, tugging on it harshly earning satisfied moans from him. “Christ- You feel so tight, fucking pussy is taking me so well” he pulls away from your neck, meeting your fucked out gaze. 

“Oh my- feels so good Eds, so close” you slur, drunk on his cock, the feeling of him pounding into you, abusing your sweet spot and the wet sounds echoing off the walls, had you hurtling to your impending orgasm. He reached behind and grabbed the back of one of your knees, pushing it further up, hitting you at a new angle that had you chanting his name like it was the only word you knew. 

“That’s it, shit- squeezing me so fucking tight baby, you gonna cum?” he rests his damp forehead “Gonna cum all over my cock?” 

You don’t even have time to find the words, your release hitting you like fucking truck. Your eyes rolling back, mouth falling open in a silent scream as you let the pleasure rattle through your entire body, your ears ringing. Eddie wasn’t long to follow, feeling your slick walls clamp down on him making him spill his load into the condom. 

He collapses on top of you, both of you gasping to catch your breath. You’d never felt anything so amazing, your head was light, your whole body felt like it was on fire. You blink up at the ceiling, Eddie’s face planted in your chest, heartbeat racing. 

A moment passes and you’ve never felt more content in your life, running your fingers through his hair as you both lay there, too spent to move, coming down from your highs. You felt him shift beneath you, pulling out of you making you hiss at the sensitivity. “Fuck” he lets out a long sigh, rolling over to lay next to you. 

“That was incredible” you laugh, suddenly all giddy inside, turning on your side to watch him. He stood up, peeling off the condom and throwing it into the trash before picking up his discarded pants, slipping them back on and grabbing a cigarette from the table next to you. He offers you one which you take, it seemed like the right thing to do. 

He disappeared down the hall, so you stayed where you were, puffing anxiously, he still hadn’t said anything. He returns a moment later, your clothes in hand, picking up the other scattered items from the floor and handing them to you. “Well this was nice and all, but I have company coming over, so you know...” Oh. 

“Oh, yeah, right, sorry” you took the hint and got up, a small ache settling in your core. You silently changed back into your close, trying to ignore all those negative feelings that threatened to arise. Not now You told yourself. You knew this was going to happen, this is how it was always going to be. You had been preparing for this before you had even got here, it’s just how Eddie was, it wasn’t gonna change just for you. Though you had hoped that he’d even lay with you for just a little while or call you pretty one more time. 

Once you were fully dressed, you checked yourself in the mirror, hair disheveled, smudged mascara and lip gloss, the purple bruises forming on your skin. You try your best to look at least half decent before you leave. Eddie clears his throat behind you and you fight the urge to hit him, he was giving you whiplash with how quick he went from being sweet and concerned Eddie to a complete and total douchebag. 

You leave the room, him following closely after you. You grab your bag of weed from the coffee table and turn to him one last time, trying not to show anything other than that you were completely normal about this whole encounter. You’d tried to think of something smart to say, but nothing came. “Thanks for the drugs and well you know…” you divert your eyes to the door, noticing the rain “shit.” 

“Well, better get home quick, looks like a storm is coming” Eddie sighs, opening the door for you. 

You clung to your very thin and very absorbent jacket, giving him one last hateful stare before stepping out onto the porch. “See ya, asshole” you mutter the last word, hoping he didn’t catch it as you walked out into the rain. You knew this was how it was gonna end, you just thought you would have enjoyed it for even a moment longer, but here you were in your soggy shoes and drenched jacket, shivering with the cold, your thoughts eating you up inside as you start you long walk home. 

[ashwhowrites]

Request open, I'm coming in. Fuckboy Eddie who meets a girl who makes him fall in love, but he's scared and doesn't change his ways of being a fuck boy. He's soft with reader and makes her feel special, even ignoring his main hook up Chirssy or any hook up when it comes to her. But she gets sick of the same shit, like losing him at a party only to find him having sex with another girl and things like that so she becomes just as cold and distant as he is. Yes, she still sleeps with him because the sex is amazing but she no longer chases him. She doesn't smile when she sees him anymore or approaches him at parties for hook up. It's always him coming to her, and then afterwards she no longer even stays with him and it breaks him and he's so upset he can't stop thinking about it. End it however you like dear!!!!

I really loved how this came out! And I hope you guys love it as well. Fuck boy Eddie always gets me in my feels

Thank you so much for requesting <3

⚠️smut, angst, smut, and more angst

Everything or nothing

Eddie never thought he'd fall for a girl he randomly hooked up with. He's done it countless times and walked away with no feelings attached. Not a second thought as he moved to the next girl and the next.

So what was so different about her? What was it about Y/N that never left his head?

"Hey Munson, ready to get out of here?" Y/N giggled, grabbing his hand as she dragged him through the party. A smile on his face as he followed her without a second thought. Leaving behind a girl he was talking to without a second glance.

Eddie dug in his pocket for his keys and unlocked the van. His hand on her thigh as he drove to his trailer, smiling as she sang along to the radio.

The second they made it through the front door, his lips were on hers. He loved the familiar taste of her lipgloss as his hands slid under her thighs and placed her on the counter. Her hands went for his hair, yanking out the bun and letting his curls fall. Her hands yanked the curls as his head went between her thighs. She moaned and laid back on the counter, ankles locked behind his eyes as he devoured her. His hands touched everywhere he could. Yanking down the top of her dress to flick her nipples, then squeezing her breasts in his hands. Scraping down her stomach and gripping on her thighs.

Her back arched off the counter as she moaned. She shoved Eddie even further between her thighs as she shook his tongue. Her body felt warm all over as his soft kisses led up her body. He softly pushed her back down with his hand, standing up as he continued to kiss up her throat to her lips. She moaned as she tasted herself on his lips. His lips were on hers as he unbuckled his jeans, and took out his cock. He pumped himself a few times as his tongue moved with hers. He held her neck as he pushed himself inside of her.

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as he filled her, his hot breath against her neck as he fucked into her. His sharp and hard thrusts made her whimper under him. His mouth was on her neck as she arched her back and tried to move her hips to his pace.

"So fucking beautiful in this dress, baby girl." He moaned. She felt her stomach flutter at the compliment and her cheeks burned at the nickname. One thing she always loved about having sex with Eddie was how he'd fuck her hard, but whisper sweet words. He'd bruise her cunt and neck, but his hands caressed her skin so softly. No matter what she wore or what he yanked off of her, he always said how beautiful she was in it.

~~~

"Wake up, beautiful." Y/N felt a hand shaking her shoulder as she woke up. Her eyes cracked open to see Eddie holding a cup with steam rising out of it. She slowly sat up and took him in. His wild hair, bruised neck, scratched tattooed chest, and the sweatpants that were low on his hips.

"You look ready to pounce on me before coffee is even served." Eddie teased, handing her the cup as he kissed her forehead. She sipped on the coffee slowly, a smile on her face as he made it the exact way she liked. Eddie slid back into the bed next to her as he drank his coffee.

This was one of Y/N's favorite parts of sex with Eddie. The comfortable silence as they cuddled and sipped on their coffee. The soft kisses he placed on her head, and his rant about whatever dream he had. She wondered what it would be like to be like this all the time with him. It was sex, but so much more happened before and after. It had to mean something to him, didn't it?

~~~

Eddie and Y/N walked into the party holding hands, his flannel on her shoulders. She dragged him over to the kitchen, filling up cups as she talked over the music. It was a night of flirting and dancing. Their bodies smashed against each other as they made out in the middle of the party. It was things like this that made her think they'd be so good together. He was thinking the same thing, and it scared him. When she pulled away to head to the bathroom, he left to get another drink.

He tried to drink away his fears, pushing the thought of how perfect she was out of his head.

"Where's your girlfriend?" Chrissy asked over the music, her hand sliding up and down his chest. Eddie didn't notice she was even there until she started touching him. His eyes blurry from the alcohol as he looked down at her.

"Girlfriend?"

Chrissy rolled her eyes at his question. "Y/N"

Eddie was quick to correct her that they were just friends. He couldn't handle being more, it terrified him. And it terrified him that others were seeing it too.

"You showed up together and she's wearing your clothes," Chrissy argued, her arms crossed. Eddie's eyes locked on her chest, licking his lips.

"She stayed over and was cold." Eddie shrugged. That's all it was. They fucked, slept, and just hung out the whole day. She didn't have anything but the small dress so she styled it with his flannel. It was all explainable. Nothing special going in. Not like her wearing his clothes sent butterflies flying around in his stomach. Or that waking up next to her made him the happiest he's ever been. It was nothing like that.

"Oh...so that means I can do this?"

Y/N finally made it out of the bathroom, too many couples didn't understand people need to use the bathroom for bathroom purposes. Y/N tugged the flannel around herself as all the guys stared at her with a hungry gaze. She kept her eyes out for Eddie. She passed by the kitchen but stopped when she saw his familiar hair. She did it before the party, half of it in a bun and the rest flying down his shoulders. She remembered how she sat on his lap as she fixed it, his lips kissing her face and messing her up. He tickled her sides and tackled her on the bed. She felt a lump in her throat as she took in the scene. Chrissy had her arms wrapped around his neck as his tongue was down her throat. Y/N felt the need to puke when Eddie cupped her ass. She watched as they pulled apart, Chrissy grabbing his hand. Y/N panicked as they walked closer to her, tears in her eyes Eddie didn't even notice her as they walked past and went up the stairs. She watched over her shoulder as they disappeared into the upstairs hallway.

She wiped her face and dug out her phone, sending him a text that she felt sick and was finding a ride home. She quickly raced out of the house, yanking off his flannel and tying it to his door handle. She felt like an idiot. She hated that he made her feel so special like she meant something, and yet could make her feel like she was nothing.

Eddie moaned as Chrissy attacked his already bruised neck. His hands were on her hips as she rubbed herself against him. Eddie heard his phone buzzed and pulled away, Chrissy groaned as he moved her off his lap.

"Seriously?" She snapped.

"Just one second!" Eddie barked, digging his phone out of his jeans. He quickly read the text and jumped up. He grabbed his shirt off the floor and buckled his pants.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Chrissy asked, her bare chest covered by her arms.

"Y/N feels sick, I don't want her to ask a stranger for a ride home." He explained. He threw back on his shoes and jacket and headed for the door.

"Sure she's not a girlfriend?" Chrissy asked behind him.

"I'm sure" he snapped and slammed the door. He raced down the steps as fast as he could and went out on the lawn. He didn't see her but saw something in his van. He kept a look out for her as he got closer, he realized it was his flannel. He pulled out his phone to call her, but she didn't pick up. He sighed and pulled up to her location, getting in his van and following her small mark.

He pulled up to a diner, that was just down the street, her frame in the window. Eddie got out of his van and walked in. He sat across from her as she looked up.

"What are you doing here?" She was surprised he found her, and that he even came to look for her.

"You could have waited, I would have brought you home." He explained, taking off his jacket as he handed it to her. He could see the goosebumps on her skin and the way she shivered.

"Didn't want to interrupt you." She mumbled, sipping on her shake as she cuddled into his jacket. She didn't need a visual of what she knew was going on. She didn't need to see Eddie touch Chrissy the way he touched her. But they weren't together, so she couldn't even rip him apart if she wanted to.

"I'd drop anything or anyone for you, baby girl. You know that." He said, grabbing her hand as he softly rubbed it.

She didn't understand him. The way he made it sound like he would always pick her, but yet had no problem sleeping with someone else.

They sat in silence as she was lost in her thoughts. He paid for her shake and drove her to his trailer. He kissed her softly as he stripped her clothes and gave her his shirt to sleep in. He pressed against her back as he wrapped his arms around her once they lay down. His soft breathing against her ear as he fell asleep.

The moments when he made her feel special were the reasons why she stayed.

~~~

Y/N drove herself to the next party, more prepared this time if she needed a quick escape. She wore comfy jeans and an old T-shirt, not in the mood to have her body shown off. She talked with a few friends as she looked around. She knew Eddie was coming, but she wasn't sure when.

Around an hour later, Eddie wandered in. His eyes searched for her immediately. He felt a growl in his throat when he saw a boy leaning over her against the wall. She was talking about something, her eyes huge and excited. Eddie couldn't help but watch how beautiful she looked just talking. Her simple outfit looked gorgeous on her. She easily took his breath away and turned his legs into jelly. He still couldn't figure out what was so different about her. But as he watched the guy lean closer and closer, Eddie couldn't help but march over there. Even if she wasn't his, she was still fucking his.

He pretended to trip into them, spilling the guy's drink all over Y/N. She gasped as the liquid drenched her shirt. Eddie apologized to the guy and grabbed her hand. Everything was so fast she could barely keep up. Before she knew it she was in the bathroom, placed on the counter as Eddie yanked off her shirt and bra. His mouth latching on her nipples as he sucked and yanked. She was breathless as she dropped her head against the mirror. His hands worked inside her jeans, immediately slipping two fingers inside of her.

"Jesus Eddie" she moaned, her body was on fire. She couldn't think, just melting as he fingered her and worked on her chest.

"Look at me" he demanded, his fingers fucking her harder as she tried to look down at him. She looked into his eyes as he rubbed her clit. Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream.

"You're fucking mine, got that?" He growled, his forehead pressed against hers as he said it right against her lips. She nodded as her orgasm was building. Her heart fluttered at his words. She wanted to be his so bad, just his.

"Say it, baby girl. Please, baby." He said again, rubbing her clit faster, she whimpered against his lips.

"All yours."

~

Eddie kissed her face softly as he fixed her jeans and covered her in his jacket. Her mind kept thinking of him calling her his, did he mean it? Or was he caught up in the mood?

They left the bathroom and headed back out to the party. Y/N felt her body buzzing with excitement. But she couldn't help but be dying to ask.

She spent the rest of the party under his arm, they talked to their friends and sipped on their drinks. She couldn't help but smile as he kept her close and kept looking down at her. The way he'd move her hair and kiss her softly before continuing his conversation. Why couldn't he see how good they'd be together?

She watched as Eddie dug out his phone and read a text. She couldn't read it but he announced he had to go to the bathroom, he kissed her head and wandered off.

She had a bad feeling about it. The way he left immediately after getting a text message? But who would have his number?

She went outside to sit by the pool, once again feeling like an idiot as she sat in his clothes. A body sat next to hers after a few minutes passed, she noticed it was Eddie as he threw his arm around her. He reeked of cheap perfume. She looked up and noticed the red lipstick all around his neck.

She swallowed the familiar lump in her throat and looked back at the pool water.

She was his

But he was nowhere near hers.

~~~

Y/N was slowly coming around to understand that Eddie wasn't going to change and that he wasn't going to settle on one girl. He'd never give up the fuck boy's life, and he wasn't going to for her. She had to move on from the idea of them being anything more.

It hurt to admit to herself but it had to be done.

Another party where Eddie disappeared and would come back to her to take her back to his trailer. She felt disgusted with herself for lying next to him knowing he had no problem sleeping with someone else.

It was getting late and she wanted to go home but Eddie was nowhere to be found. She knew it would be a bad idea to look for him, but a part of her wanted to see it. Maybe if she saw it with her own eyes, it would smack sense into her. She slowly opened each door, seeing if Eddie was on the other side. She breathed a sigh of relief as each door wasn't him, but that meant she was getting closer.

She reached the last door and thought about it in her head. She knew the second she saw it, her heart would be shattered. She already knew but seeing it would be something she couldn't escape from.

She slowly opened the door, her breath caught in her lungs as Eddie had a random girl bent over the bed. He was behind her, pushing her head down as he fucked her from behind. He was mean and harsh, two things he never was with her. His hands smacked the girl's skin and he yanked her hair. He didn't even look at her, just watching his cock buried in her.

Y/N quickly shut the door and raced down the steps. She saw what she needed to see.

~~~

Y/N decided to put space between them. She wasn't going to chase after him and wasn't going to be caught up in his sweet words. She couldn't keep playing into the what-ifs because it was never going to happen. It didn't matter how many times they had sex and cuddled until the next morning, he was never going to change.

It was the first party with her new plan in mind. She wore a sexy dress and took time on her makeup. She was going to have fun and not worry about him. She wasn't going to search for him and ask to go home with him. The sex was still amazing, so she wasn't going to give that up. But she wasn't going to act like there was anything more.

She spent most of her time talking with Robin, someone new she met. She liked Robin a lot and enjoyed her sarcastic chatter. She was so caught up in talking with Robin that she never noticed Eddie staring her down.

Eddie wasn't sure why it bothered him so much to see her talking with someone else. The way she was so invested and how her eyes never looked away to look for him.

He almost felt embarrassed when he walked up to her and she didn't even flash a smile. A blank look on her face as she turned to face him. Eddie felt anger in his bones when she turned back to Robin and gave him her phone number. Robin blushed and walked away, waving as she disappeared into the crowd. Eddie hated that her attention was on someone that wasn't him. But he snapped back into what he knew best.

He ignored the sting when she didn't smile or greet him. But he continued anyway.

"Ready to get out of here?" He asked, she nodded and walked right past him, his open hand ignored.

~

"So fucking beautiful, baby girl." He moaned, her back against his sheet as he fucked into her. She clawed at his back, moaning as he went deeper and deeper.

She tried not to smile at his words, reminding herself it was just sex.

"Always so good and taking me. My pretty girl." She hated that he looked into her eyes as she came. She closed them as fast as she could to ignore the love he held in them. Because he'd never admit it.

His lips pressed against hers as he came inside of her, soft praises against her skin. More compliments, more words he'd never mean. Words he only said when he was inside of her.

Once he finished cleaning her up, she got up. Eddie watched her confused as she threw back on her dress.

"Wait, you aren't staying?" She almost swore he sounded sad about it, but she brushed it off.

"Work in the morning." She shrugged, but Eddie was even more confused.

"When did you get a job? You tell me everything." He sounded betrayed as he stood up, still naked as he grabbed her hand.

"Tomorrow is my first day, I'll call you about it?"

Then she walked out

And she never called.

~~~

A week passed before he saw her again. She stood talking to that girl again, laughing. Eddie hated the way the girl's eyes glanced Y/N up and down over and over.

"Seems like she's into your girlfriend." A voice whispered into Eddie's ear. He felt himself rolling his eyes.

"She's not my girlfriend." Eddie argued.

"Right...how long have we been hooking up?" Chrissy asked, standing in front of Eddie so he'd look at her.

"I don't know." Eddie shrugged, looking over her as he watched the girl laugh and smack Y/N's arm.

"Two years, on and off. Less since high school ended and less since you met her. And you know the funny part?" Chrissy asked, snapping her fingers. Eddie looked down at her with an annoyed sigh.

"She's the only one you ever take home and stay the night with. The only girl you follow around like a lost puppy. You like her , you might even love her. And she likes you."

"She does?" Eddie hated how fast he reacted. But he never noticed how Chrissy was right. Y/N was the only girl he brought home, the only girl that lay in his bed and woke up with him. Hell, she was the only girl he allowed to face him during sex. The only girl he watched cum, the only girl he came inside of. The only girl he found himself missing.

"She does, and you're ruining it." Chrissy snapped and walked off.

Eddie wasn't sure why she wanted to help him. But she was right.

He interrupted the girl and Y/N again, taking her home and fucking her into his mattress. Chrissy words ringing in his head.

He watched as she got up again, throwing on her clothes.

"Can I ask you something?" She asked Eddie was surprised she talked to him. She barely spoke to him unless she was moaning underneath him.

"Yeah." He said, sitting up as he looked at her.

"Do you ever take any girls here?" She felt stupid for asking but she always wondered about it. She was in his bed every weekend, but what happened during the week?

"Just you." He answered honestly.

"Why?"

"You're special."

She nodded and walked out.

Eddie sighed as he groaned into his hands. He needed to figure out his feelings. He turned off his light and lay down. He grabbed her pillow and brought it to his chest. Inhaling her scent as he thought about her. He missed her. He hated that everything changed. When did she stop caring about him? When did he push her too far?

~~~

Eddie was drunk, sloppy kind of drunk. He's been at this party for three hours waiting for her to show up and she wasn't. He called her over and over, and nothing. He was shit faced by the time she finally texted back.

"On a date, talk later."

Eddie felt like his heart was yanked out of his chest and he was bleeding through his clothes. She was on a date. She was with someone else and Eddie hated it. She stopped smiling at him, she looked at him differently, and she didn't talk to him. She's doing that with someone else.

Then he felt rage. He knew the only person he had to blame was himself, but it was easier to be mad at her. Easier to lie and treat her like she was in the wrong. She ditched him. She changed on him.

He wanted to hurt her just as bad.

~

"Fuck that's it. Yes yes." The girl moaned underneath him, he couldn't even remember her name. His drunk mind pretended it was her.

Eddie tried to ignore the guilt he felt the second he brought the girl home, ignoring the sickness in his gut when she lay in the same spot Y/N did.

He shook the thoughts out of his head as he fucked himself into the girl, looking down at her. He didn't want Y/N to be special. He needed to prove she wasn't special. He closed his eyes and thought about her. Her moans and her hands. He tried to imagine the feeling of her cunt around him.

His orgasm approached faster than he expected. Her name on his tongue as he pulled out and came all the girl's stomach.

The girl scoffed under him, cleaning off her stomach as she shoved him off.

"Who the fuck is Y/N?" She spat, marching out the door and slamming it behind her.

He felt sick to his stomach. This was the one place where he could feel her and he ruined it. He snatched her pillow and screamed when her smell was gone. The cheap perfume of the other girl stained it. He threw it against the wall and screamed louder. He tried to find a spot in his sheets where he could smell just Y/N, but he couldn't. There was nothing left of her here.

He raced to find his phone, punching in her number as he threw on boxers.

"Hello?" Her tired voice cut through the speaker. Eddie was surprised she answered.

"Eddie?" She asked again, but he couldn't speak. Choked sobs coming out as he thought about her.

"I'm coming over."

~~

Eddie raced to the door as she knocked, wrapping his arms around her the second she was inside. He was on his knees and sobbing against her stomach.

"Hey hey, you're scaring me. What's going on?" She panicked. She softly ran her hands through his hair to try to calm him down.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I just missed you and I love you." He sobbed. Y/N tried to hold back her own tears as she comforted him. She went down to her knees and held his face.

"Are you drunk?" She answered her question when she smelled the alcohol on his breath. She should have known none of those words would have come out if he was sober.

"Let's get you to bed." She sighed, removing his arms from her waist.

"I can't go in there." He sobbed and wrapped himself around her tighter.

"In your room? Why?" She asked softly, wiping his tears. He choked on his own words and cried into her. She accepted he wasn't going to talk anymore.

"Room, now." She demanded, she pulled him up to his feet and led him to his room. She pushed him towards his bed as he fell on it.

"See, it wasn't so hard." She smiled, moving his hair out of his eyes as she pulled his blankets up. She sat next to him and wiped his face. Helping him calm down so his breathing would go back to normal.

"Please don't leave me." He pleaded, grabbing her hand.

"Eddie, we can talk when you are sober. I love you and you are killing me. But if you can say all those things when you are sober maybe we can wo-" she cut herself off when she noticed something on the side of his bed.

She leaned down to get a closer look. A bra that definitely wasn't hers.

Just like that, she was reminded why she gave up in the first place.

"You had a girl in here, didn't you? That's why you're sorry?" She snapped, yanking her hand out of his as she stood up.

"It was a mistake!"

"No! The mistake was thinking you meant any of the words you said. I'm special? There's nothing special about me. If there was, I would have been fucking good enough for you." She growled, she couldn't believe she was dumb enough to crawl back to him.

"YOU'RE TOO GOOD FOR ME!" He screamed, he crawled across the bed to grab her hand as she went to leave. "I fucking love you and it scared me. I lived this whole life where I slept with girls and didn't feel a thing. Then suddenly you changed everything. You never left my head. I thought if I ignored it and acted like nothing changed, I'd move on."

"Why did you bring her here? Was she special too?" She cried, hating that the tears went down her face as she looked at him. She almost felt like she won when he admitted no girl was in his bed, that maybe there was a chance he felt something for her. But now she didn't believe anything. The one tiny thing she had over all those girls was gone.

"No she wasn't," Eddie admitted, "it was a mistake."

"WHY EDDIE?" she screamed, sobs in her throat as she demanded he told her the truth.

"I wanted to hurt you. You said you were on a date and I couldn't stand the feeling of being replaced. I felt worthless and I wanted to make you feel the same." It killed him to admit it. He hated that he wanted to hurt her so badly. He hated himself even more knowing he was successful.

"You wanted me to make sure I knew I wasn't anything special?" She asked, hot tears falling off her chin and onto the carpet below.

"Yes." He choked, crying as he watched her yank herself free from him.

"Message completely fucking clear." She snapped, Eddie jumped off the bed as she raced out the door.

"PLEASE IT WAS A MISTAKE. YOU'RE EVERYTHING TO ME!" he screamed after her, she stopped at her car door, turning around as she looked at him. He stood in his front door, sobbing.

"Everything to you? Where was that when you fucked every girl at a party? When you'd ditch me and get a blowjob in the bathroom? When you'd come kiss me and reeked of another girl's perfume? You never loved me. And I sure as hell won't stand here and give you the chance to." She spat.

Eddie watched as she drove off.

He prayed everything was a bad dream. That he would wake up back in his bed next to her. That he could make her coffee and talk about his dreams.

But he woke up,

And she wasn't there.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

[hoe-for-hopper]

Forget About Eddie

Bestfriend!SteveHarrington x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: mentions of Eddie being a fuckboy, a lil fluff and a lil smut.

Word Count: 2247

Summary: You and Eddie have just broken up, but you're still hung up on him. Steve hates seeing you so down and just wants to make you feel better (better than Eddie could).

A/N: idk i'm on a smut writing spree, expect some more fics tomorrow (maybe some eddie, maybe some slashers, who really knows). i hardly edited this and i feel like the ending might be a lil rushed, but hey, smut is smut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SMUT BELOW THE CUT~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I just don’t really know what to do, you know?” You and your best friend, Steve Harrington are walking to his car after your shift at Scoops. You’ve been upset all night over a fight you had with your ex-boyfriend, Eddie. 

You and Eddie had been broken up for a couple of months now, but you were still sneaking over to his trailer in the middle of the night. You couldn’t help it, you were young, horny, and Eddie was pretty good in bed. It was easy enough, until you had to get dressed and do the walk of shame across the trailer park. You know keeping this up wasn’t a smart idea, but a part of you also still loved Eddie. Even if you knew that he was just using you to get what he wanted.

“I don’t know why you’re still so hung up on that loser. You’ve always been too good for him and he didn’t deserve you.” Steve says as he unlocks the car doors and slides into the driver’s seat. He looks over at you and seeing your sad face says, “Alright, we’re going back to my place and having a movie night. I’ll call Robin and see if she’ll come over. You need to have some fun.”

You almost protest, but that does sound like it’ll get your mind off things. And if you’re at Steve’s  you won’t be as tempted to go to Eddie’s.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well Robin can’t come over. She’s got a date or something. So I guess it’s just you and me.” He says as he places a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table in front of you. “What do you wanna watch first? I just got a tape of The Outsiders. Remember that movie?” 

“Yeah that sounds good. Thanks for the popcorn.” You reach for the bowl as Steve sits down next to you.

Throughout the movie you can feel Steve looking over at you until he finally reaches over to slide his arm around your shoulders. “Hey, I know you’re upset, but just try to forget about Eddie and whatever stupid fight you guys have had.”

“I know, Steve, It’s just really hard. I miss him and I can’t seem to stay away. I keep going over whenever he calls like I’m just some booty call and not his ex-girlfriend of TWO YEARS! It’s like that’s all he wanted me for in the first place!” You put your hands over your face and shake your head.

“Wait. You’re still going over there and sleeping with him? Why would you do that? You’re way too good to be waiting around for his phone calls just so he can get off and leave you upset.” Steve pauses the movie and turns toward you. You didn’t mean to tell him all of that, you’d been telling Steve and Robin that you hadn’t seen Eddie since the breakup. You never told them that you two had been secretly fucking every other night.

“Uh… I mean it’s hard, Steve! We were together for a long time, I can’t just stop seeing him!” You reach for the remote to play the movie again, but Steve grabs your wrist to stop you.

As you look up at him he says, “I know. I’m sure it is hard. But he can’t be that great that you’re still doing…that with him.” Steve’s arm tightens around your shoulders. He’s staring down at you with a look you’ve never seen from him before. His right hand moves from your wrist to your cheek as he brushes his thumb down to your chin.

“I mean…I don’t know.” It’s hard for you to get words out. Steve has been your best friend since you guys were kids. But all of a sudden something feels a little bit more with him. The way he’s looking at you and lightly gripping your chin is making you dizzy. You’ve never thought about him in any other way, but now your heart is beginning to flutter.

Steve notices it too, his eyes go to where his hand rests on your chin before looking back into your eyes. He slowly tilts your chin up and leans down to plant a gentle kiss on your lips. 

You kiss him back before he pulls away and says “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that. I think I just got carried away.” He drops his hands, grabs the remote and flips the movie back on.

“It’s… it’s okay.” You can’t think of anything else to say so you sink back into the couch and continue to watch the movie like nothing happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When you get home later that night, you can’t stop replaying that kiss in your head. You’ve never even thought about doing anything like that with Steve. He’s your best friend. You two have practically known each other since you two were in diapers. And besides, he isn’t your type at all. Apparently your type is self obsessed bad boys who break your heart yet still call you up at 1 in the morning. Look where that’s gotten me, you think. Steve is sweet, nice, caring. Everything that Eddie turned out not to be. 

You fall asleep thinking about what would have happened had Steve not come to his senses.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve has been thinking about the kiss since he dropped you off at your apartment. He’s not sure what came over him at that moment. But he does know that he enjoyed it. He knows that he definitely wanted more. But he also knows that you’re his best friend and you’re still getting over that asshole, Eddie Munson. He doesn’t want to force you into anything else.

But he still can’t see what you see in that guy. He didn’t know Eddie that well. They ran in different circles when they were in high school, but he still didn’t notice anything particularly great about the guy. 

And he was so tired of seeing you heartbroken over it. Steve thought you deserved so much more than Eddie.

Steve knew he could make you feel better than Eddie ever could.

Steve continued to think about that kiss as his hand slipped beneath the fabric of his boxers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days go by before you see Steve again. He’s giving you a ride home from Robin’s house after a girls night.

“You know, you really didn’t have to come pick me up. I would’ve been fine walking home.” You say as you meet him outside.

“I know, but Robin’s is on my way home from work.”

Not much is said on the drive to your house. You’re still thinking about the kiss from the other night and you’re not sure if Steve is thinking about it as well. And if he is, you’re not sure what he’s thinking about it. Does he think it was a mistake? Does he want to do it again? You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t realize you’ve pulled up in front of your house until you hear Steve saying “Hellooooo. Did you hear me? I asked if you were okay with me coming in and hanging out for a while?”

“Oh. Um. Absolutely, that’s totally fine.” Both of you got out of the car and walked into your small apartment. “So uh, what did you want to do?” You weren’t sure why you were this nervous. You felt like the dynamic between you and your best friend had completely changed since the other night, yet Steve seemed perfectly normal.

“I was actually just wanting to talk to you. You know, make sure you’re doing okay? After that fight with Eddie?” Steve sat down on your small sofa and kicked his shoes off.

You sat down next to Steve, taking your shoes off as well. “Yeah, actually I’m doing a lot better. He hasn’t called since the fight which helps too. I’ve still thought about calling him though.”

Steve just stares at you. You recognize the look on his face as the same one from the other night. The look right before you kissed you. You’re trying not to get your hopes up that it’ll happen again, but your heart is beating a thousand beats per minute. Finally, he says “Look, I hate seeing you like this. I know you two were together for a long time, but he doesn’t deserve you. He never has. He took you completely for granted.”

You weren’t sure what to say. Steve continued, inching closer to you, “I guess I just don’t see what’s so great about Eddie.” He placed his hand on top of your thigh and slowly inched his other hand along the tops of your shoulder. He said what he’d been thinking about the other night. “I bet I could make you feel better than he ever did.” Steve tilted your head up once again and kissed your lips. Rougher than the first time, but still tender. He didn’t pull away this time. 

You reached up to grab his face in your hands, kissing him with more force. Steve took hold of your hips, pulling you onto his lap before running his hands through your hair. The two of you were holding so tightly onto each other it was almost painful.

You were the first to pull away, gasping for breath. “Are we… is this…” the words died on your lips as you noticed the way Steve was looking at you with lust filled eyes.

“It’s okay. Let me make you feel good. Let me make you forget about him.” Steve lifted you up and sat you down on the couch, pushing your legs open so he could kneel between them. He peppered kisses from your neck to the top of your jeans. He began unbuttoning your pants and slipping them off of you as he looked up at you through his long lashes. He pulled down your panties and tossed them to the side before trailing his fingers around your swollen clit.

You almost couldn’t believe what was happening. Steve Harrington, your best friend, was on his knees with his face dangerously close to your core. Steve Harrington was rubbing circles on your sensitive bud. You threw your head back and let your moans escape.

“That’s it, baby.” Steve continued rubbing circles as he leaned forward and inserted his tongue inside your soaking hole. Your hands flew down to grab and pull at his hair and he hummed in response sending vibrations throughout your body.

You almost couldn’t take it anymore, you had to have him now. You were too impatient, too needy, for something you didn’t even know you wanted until right now. “Steve.” you breathed as you pulled him back up to you, foreheads touching.

“Shh.” Steve unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down just enough to release his hard cock. He kissed you one last time, letting his lips linger on yours as he lined himself up with your entrance.

He pushed himself into you slowly, gently, taking his time and relishing the feeling of your walls clenching around him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, moaning into his ear. “God, you feel amazing. I bet I feel better than him.” He said it with a sneer as he pumped in and out of you. You couldn’t respond, you just continued to moan. “Mhm, that’s what I thought.” 

Steve leaned back and started rubbing circles around your clit. You almost couldn’t hold yourself together any longer. The tension that had been building in your stomach was about to explode. “Steve, I- I’m gonna come.” You managed to breathe out in between your moans.

“Come for me, baby, come on.” Steve’s thrusts grow faster as you reach your climax. He puts his hands on your face, the pads of his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks as you come down from your high. “That’s it, sweetheart.” 

He bends forward to kiss your forehead before moving his hands to your hips, gripping them a little too hard. His thrusts grow more erratic as his own climax nears. Steve’s mouth grazes your ear as he continues to pump in and out of you. “Fuck, baby. You feel so good.” He almost can’t hold himself together any longer. He pumps one last time before pulling out and shooting thick white ropes onto your stomach. He slumps forward laying next to your side and runs his hands through his hair. 

Steve stands up and pulls his jeans back up. He takes his shirt off and wipes your stomach clean before sitting on the couch next to you and pulling you towards him. With your head resting on his chest, you say, “Wow. I…wow.”

You can feel his eyes looking down on you as he brushes his hand through your hair. “I know. I’ve been thinking about you since the other night.”

You nuzzled tighter into his chest, “Do you want to stay the night?”

He chuckles as he picks you up and begins carrying you to your room. “Of course, babe.” He lays you down on your bed and slips under the blankets with you, pulling you to his chest once more. You feel so at home cuddled into Steve’s chest.

“So tired, Steve.” You mumble as your eyes begin to close.

“That’s alright baby, get some rest. We can talk in the morning.”

As you start to drift to sleep you can hear Steve say, “So, did you forget about Eddie?”

[hellgirlthings]

this is not proof read yall, and this came from my obscure collection of 3am drafts lol- but anyways fuckboy!eddie plagues my mind on the daily tbh

One thing about Eddie Munson, is that he will probably be the best fuck you ever had. Seriously though, he’s ruined every single man for you and you’re not even dating him. Being friends with benefits with Eddie is great don’t get me wrong…. up until it isn’t.

As per usual, your routine involves going over to the trailer every friday- lest either of you has something planned for the night. This friday is no different, he had yet to say if anything came up so you’d just assumed that everything was on track.

Now look, being friends with benefits doesn’t necessarily mean that either of you are strictly seeing the other person, but you would at least expect him to tell you if he was seeing other girls. Since he never did you naturally assumed that he was the seeing anyone other than you. Thats where you fucked up for the second time. When it comes to Eddie, assuming isn’t a guarantee, and quite frequently assuming leads to him managing to do the complete opposite of what you’d think he would.

Knocking on the trailer door, you heard a few muffled swears as well as shuffling feet- which only came to a halt as Eddie opened the door. Cheeks flushed, bangs stuck against his forehead by a sheer layer of sweat and wide eyes as he looks at you. A good five seconds pass when you noticed *her*. Jess was her name? You don’t remember clearly, being that when you had first met her Eddie was more occupied in getting you into The Hideout’s bathroom for a quick fuck than to introduce the two of you. Instead of saying anything, he simply gapes at you while you awkwardly shift your weight, lips in a flat line.

“Oh, uh, sorry. I didn’t realize you had company… next time just maybe let me know?” You try your best to keep your voice steady, even though your heart felt like it had dropped to your stomach. What would be the point in getting mad? You two aren’t together. Quickly gathering your composure, you start heading back to your car, leaving a very dumbfounded eddie at the door. It takes him a few seconds to compute whatever fuck up he had just done before he’s running after you (more like jogging, but still he was trying to get to you before you hopped into the car), grabbing your arm right as you’re about to open the car door.

“Shit, baby please let me explain” Eddie’s voice sounds strained, much too guilty for your liking. Shaking your head, you refuse to look at him.

“Eddie ‘s fine, you don’t have to explain anything” You murmur, really not wanting to have this uncomfortable conversation whilst Jess was sitting in the trailer half naked, waiting for him to go back.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’d seen a ghost as to how pale he had become. His thumb brushes against your arm in attempt to comfort you, or actually comfort him because right now he’s freaking the fuck out. You successfully shake your arm away, opening the car door and swiftly hopping in the driver’s seat without him getting ahold of you.

“Sweetheart please, we can talk about this I promise. I forgot to call you” Yeah that was definitely not what you wanted to hear. He simply forgot to tell you that instead of fucking you like he has for the last 7 months, he was going to fuck some random chick he barely knows from a nasty ass bar. Great. You scoff incredulously, not believing the words that are coming out of his mouth. Without saying another word, you turn the car engine on and drive away.

[herbie851]

Trailer was released for My Stubborn (I think that is the full name?). The pairings look solid, we get lady love/drama, knockoff fuckboy Payu, and Yoon actually looks like he might have chemistry with someone. Looks fun overall!

[sidewayspeace444]

Letter to a fandom…not just kidding 😜

I agree that too many coincidences and posts (from fake friends/the help: make up, hair, photographs,etc) for this to be a PR joke.

This is real and they are just waiting for an announcement after 9/11 (couldn’t they have chosen a worse day for this charade? How disrespectful coming from former Captain America)

I’m not even surprised, I never bought the golden/good boy image he was trying to sell. I always thought that behind the good looks and muscle, there was a fuckboy/frat guy/stupid real person. I was just having fun with his internet boyfriend fake image and with the fun coming from this fandom (some more intense than others). Well this is over now. Moving on to more productive things. Oh yeah I’m happily married and I NEVER thought he was meant for us 😂. Come on girls!

I’m just surprised with such a bad choice: she looks everything that can be wrong : racist, soft porn actress, wannabe sugar baby, uneducated lowish class, rude, gold digger, dirty (just by looking at her pics you can tell she smells and that mouth close up, screams bad hygiene and herpes), bad z-list actress, couch casting specialist. That’s her dream girl/love at first sight!?

What’s left for the “betrayed “ fandom? Well don’t just talk and talk about this (or even cry), do something!! Go to his movies sites and write your Honest review! After Marvel and with a few exceptions, they were bad! Especially his acting (poor co- stars, they did their very best!), he can not cry or have any chemistry with his female co-stars. Be honest!! Go to his upcoming movies and say how bad the trailers/teasers look like. You got tickets for a con, return them and demand a refund!

He really laughed in your faces with the good dog dad/liberal fighter image. Now it’s your turn!

Stay strong fandom and let’s see who has the last laugh 😉

Should we check to see if she has the last three strings on her head after that dragging? 🤣 I agree and he’s a huge 🤥 maybe they can compare each others nose jobs

[silver-wield]

I really think that trailer was just throwing us off and throwing a bone to those who don’t buy it. The Aerith GS date is always talked about by devs, they know it’s the fan service moment before her death. They used that and it backfired more than they anticipated. But I’m not worried about Cloti. The remake trailers didn’t show even an ounce of the amount of Cloti we got, all the cheeky comments walking around and all the grabbing during combat cinematics. 😌💕

Not to mention so much has been done to build up Cloti this time. So much groundwork. Like moments into the game Jessie asks about Cloud and Tifa, it’s set up right from the get go. Cloud getting jealous. Cloud openly flirting with her (the flower, the beautiful comment). Even Marle ffs stops Cloud and implies what she does and then comments on them both. I’m sure CAs take that like “she said she needs a FRIEND” and not understanding the context of “she needs a friend not a fuckboi” because she can see how enamoured he is. The only time we really see Cloud open up with dialogue when you’re walking around is in Chapter 3 with Tifa. He is the one asking questions and keeping the conversation going. The whole rooftops with Aerith is her being annoying, him grunting/shrugging her off and then her usual OOPS I TRIPPED I NEED ATTENTION!

There’s just no way they are setting up what they have been with the intention of giving us the middle finger. Just some choices are so dense I can’t believe they didn’t make them on purpose to stoke the flames. Making a song called “No promises to keep” when your two canon couples are both based on promises seems shady as fuck. And none of this makes Aerith look good after she was so supportive of Cloti in remake. Literally called Tifa someone special to Cloud then she’s grabbing his arm and doing her tripped tactic. 🙄 Also in TOTP it’s supposed to be Aerith and Tifa sharing stories with one another - so I need reminding but doesn’t that mean she told Aerith about the water tower?

I am so certain Cloud is going to push her off him or dismiss her like he did in the OG. It’s fan service BS. CAs still won’t buy the game for it because they don’t know how to play, they don’t know other characters and they’ll just watch the “All Cloud and Aerith Scenes” video for a grand total of 22 minutes or something. Then babble on about that being canon along with a couple posts about Barret/Dyne being “OMG so sad 😭” to make it seem like they play.

I just hope they stick to their guns and make sure Aerith isn’t as prominent in Part 3. That is NOT her part. She does her bit. We’ve already had to endure her for longer than we should have. Her death won’t be meaningful if we have her whiny voice making comments from the lifestream every 5 minutes.

Sorry for venting but you’re the only person who seems to get it in this damn fandom.

Tifa never told anyone about the water tower. There's parts of her recount where she's speaking to someone, but some parts are introspective, and that's one of them.

Aerith also doesn't listen to Tifa unless it interests her. She was around for the picnic bit then fucked off for the rest. Tifa tells most of her story to Red.

The ost does come off shady AF. Cloud never made a promise to Aerith for one to be mentioned either way, and given it's the ost for the whole game, you'd think it would focus on things that happened over things that didn't, but for some random reason not-aerith's-singing-voice-in-a-million-years is going on about promises, and the only one who made her a promise is Zack.

Some people are gonna be super angy with this game they aren't gonna play 🤣🤷

[angeldcgs]

yesterday i posted some opens and today i come to you, good mutuals, with an offer to plot with any and all of my newer muses listed under the cut. most of them are a little whacky but there's something for everyone <3 give this a like if you're interested in any of them and i'll come to you to plot!!

the mcdermott family: based on the firefly family from h.ouse of 1.000 c.orpses (2003), the mcdermotts were a family of circus performers/carnies who owned and operated a local carnival in town. when travelers and townsfolk started going missing in alarming numbers, the cops started poking around the carnival and uncovered numerous bodies and other nightmarish finds, resulting in the majority of the mcdermotts either being locked up in prison for life, or slain in a deadly stand-off with the cops. these five are the only who remain in town, still carrying out their gruesome acts but on a much smaller scale, confined to a trailer park rather than their beloved carnival, as it was torched by the townsfolk following the arrests.

oberlin "obie" mcdermott (e.bon m.oss b.achrach fc)- he/him, 47, heterosexual, dominant, retired circus clown/junkyard owner (billy's brother, duncan, dolly, and mac's uncle)

billy mcdermott (k.yle g.allner fc)- he/him, 35, bisexual, dominant, mechanic/serial killer (obie's brother, duncan, dolly, and mac's uncle)

duncan mcdermott (h.arris d.ickinson fc)- he/him, 27, bisexual, dominant, drug dealer/serial killer (dolly's twin, mac's half brother)

dolly mcdermott (h.unter s.chafer fc)- she/her, 27, queer, switch, contortionist/serial killer (duncan's twin, mac's half sister)

mackenzie "mac" mcdermott (c.amila m.orrone fc)- she/her, 24, bisexual, dominant, robber/serial killer (duncan and dolly's half sister)

the dobbs brothers: raised in an abusive religious cult and kept separate from the rest of the world, the boys never learned how to live in modern society or be "normal" people until the feds broke up the organization and they were placed in foster care, but even then, it was a rough adjustment. zeke took to the change well, reveling in all the attention they were receiving from journalists and news outlets all looking to tell their story, while sammie still struggles adapting to this new world that's so diametrically opposed to the one he was raised in.

samson "sammie" dobbs (j.ohnny b.erchtold fc)- he/him, 26, bisexual (closeted), submissive, grocery store clerk

ezekiel "zeke" dobbs (f.red h.echinger fc)- he/him, 21, pansexual, submissive, pizza delivery guy

others:

kirby o'connell (m.argaret q.ualley fc)- she/her, 27, lesbian, switch, karaoke bar owner

your average everyday lovable lesbian fuckboy, think shane mccutcheon in the l word but a touch less brooding. bought an old run down bar for cheap at an auction with the intent of turning it into a queer friendly karaoke bar, but it turns out the former owner was using the bar as a front for a money laundering scheme, and now the criminal organization in charge of that is expecting her to continue to be involved.

louise "lou" walsh (t.alia r.yder fc)- she/her, 21, pansexual, switch, writer

a compulsive liar who's constructed an entire backstory for herself to better support her image as a "starving artist". really, she comes from an incredibly wealthy midwest family, the kind who own every building and every business in their small town, but that's not the kind of backstory that sells books.

[invisiblegarters]

Be Mine Superstar Ep 8

(Fair Warning the first four paragraphs of this are actually about Only Friends. It's what I do now, apparently. Feel free to skip to past the gif if you don't care)

Much later than usual, but the truth is aside from having responsibilities that unfortunately kept me away from dramas a lot so far this week, the Only Friends brainrot is real. Pretty much the entire time I'm *not* doing things that I need to do I'm thinking about Boston and his motivations and how he could easily be just a two dimensional fuckboy villain but there's too much going on with his face for me to buy it (Neo Trai is a gem guys, it's true. I've known it but now I really know it, you know?) and pondering how heavily Ray's issues with alcohol are going to factor in (my guess is very), how bad it's gonna get (also very), how many relationships he's going to destroy (all, probably), and who he's gonna hurt (physically as well as emotionally - look, drunk driving is a whole theme, we've had two (2) episodes and Sand and Ray and dangerous driving have been mentioned no less than three (3) times - call it Chekov's Gun, call it the Sword of Damocles (I've done both because I'm dramatic af) or be normal and simply call it foreshadowing, I just can't believe they've mentioned it this many times not to have it rear it's head in a really nasty way).

And that's not even counting the stuff that just amuses me, like counting how many times Mew looks sus in one episode (a lot), or building my SandTop exes agenda (also a MewSand agenda and a NickSand agenda...look I just think Sand should get around, okay?) and cackling over the idea that we're going to get everything in the trailer so far by episode 5.

Do you see? the brainrot is so real that I just spent paragraphs talking about OF and not the show I'm ostensibly here for. It's been a long time since a drama took over my brain to this extent. I'd say send help but I'm actually having way too much fun.

So I do apologize for the person I've become. For anyone that's not here for me to go on about OF at literally any opportunity, I really am sorry. I don't think any post will be free of it until October.

That said, let's actually talk about this show now, eh?

Sigh. So we're gonna do another outing plot here hey. That's wonderful I so love these (I really, really don't). But I guess there has to be some sort of drama happening since everything's been fairly adorable so far. Yippee?

Can I just say that the Muang/Doctor plot feels weirdly rushed and disjointed? I was so looking forward to them after the first ep and now I barely care, and that is sad.

Punn and Ashi are really cute though.

Are we also still doing the Title crushing on Ashi thing? I felt like that was there and then it got dropped, but now they're picking it up again. He's not gonna be happy with those pics. Oh but hey if it leads to him begging his asshole manager not to be an asshole then sure.

"It's not that hard to win Ashi's heart." Especially when you'll be in Japan with him and Punn won't. Just saying. Although I just incredibly doubt it'll work - this really does not strike me as that type of BL. But hey, a little angst never hurt anyone, right?

Just once I would like one of these places to look lived in. They did a little better with Punn's house but man, it depresses me how spotless everything is all the time. It's like when they order food and don't eat it. Or sleep with the lights on.

/tangent

I love that the Daddy Muang thing hasn't been dropped even though now Punn has Ashi as he wants and there's really no need for it.

The brothers remain very good. I like this sibling relationship. Feels real in a lot of ways.

Oooh I like that shot with all of them in the car park.

I find I have to keep reminding myself that Punn is only 20. But frankly, I am cringing hard at this jealousy plot. I just wanna grab him and tell him he's being too transparent, aaaah. Me, I have a pride issue. I would never. I could never.

Punn is the cutest though - I do like how he just lets every feeling show on his face, even if I could never.

"No one is taking Ashi away from you." Maybe not, but they're certainly trying lol.

Although...maybe trust in your boyfriend just a little more. It's not like you're in a show where he has one foot out the door anyway.

I wonder now if Muang has figured out Title is definitely making moves, lol. He's not stupid, even if Ashi is, a little (genuinely, I think he's just focused on his job. This is his big international break, right? Of course he just wants to do the thing right. And he has no reason to suspect that Title's trying to split him up from the boyfriend no one is even supposed to know about).

Anyway this kind of angst is my jam so I'm not even a little mad. Poor sad Punn with his poor sad Punn face, though. It just doesn't feel right to watch him be unhappy.

I love those dogs.

Hahahaha okay Punn manipulating Muang and co into helping him separate Title and Ashi is funny. I have to admit that. Yes, childish, but again, twenty. And not exactly a hugely mature twenty, either. :D

Damn, Muang. That was kinda harsh. I love it. Be meaner!! Make someone cry!

Sorry. Feeling a little vicious today, apparently.

Well at least Punn acknowledges he was being kind of immature. Yes, yes, Title is being a deliberate butt, but Punn doesn't really know that he just sort of suspects, and he was already being a little ridiculous before that.

Twenty. He's twenty. Remember he's twenty.

Ooh I did like that hop and carry though. Very nice.

And now off to Japan we go! Well. Half of us. The other half is still hanging out in Thailand.

Pfft and now there's yet another man after Ashi's pretty self. He's a hot commodity.

Beep boop time for the blackmail. Although to be fair this is going in a direction that I didn't quite expect. So props for that, I guess.

Oh hey, everyone's in Japan next week. Nice.

[electrificata]

having music critic thots abt the weeknd im so so sorry

i saw the weeknd in concert last summer, it was amazing. i really dont like stadium shows usually, but his was killer, he had a cool stage concept (gently mad max-ish cult leader and his dancer-disciples, giant inflatable moon) and he's got the presence to fill up all that space. and ive been listening to him for almost a decade, obviously the music's there. actually the show i was at was where he debuted the trailer for the idol. its out now and i havent watched yet. i thought it looked cool then, but after everything ive heard.....im just really ambivalent.

in the early days, when he was keeping mysterious, no press, no photos, you didnt even know if the weeknd was a band or a guy. just this chilly, atmospheric, sleazy/sexy horror-movie r&b. nothing supernatural. but cruel. the lyrics were all about the worst kind of fuckboy shit, and obviously drugs, and the music really seemed to give proper weight to it. the speaker in the songs was awful, the music was telling you that his actions were violent and terrifying for the women he's hurting and for toxic for himself. if youre a person attracted to men, you know what its like to see how awful a guy can be and still be into him, maybe even BECAUSE of how awful he is. thats a fucking horror movie. those first xo eps are crazy, i still listen to them.

then he goes pop star. i remember the collab w/ ariana grande in 2014 was surprising but it found a perfect, plausible midpoint between their two universes. then he goes full max martin in 2015 with "can't feel my face" and again, bizarre to see this plausible way for the prince of darkness to get to the top 40 via a neo-michael jackson jam with a veiled drug reference as opposed to multiple explicit ones. but it made sense! he danced onstage now! i remember hearing it on the radio when i was picking my cousins up from middle school, that felt surreal.

and he just kept on doing the popstar thing. i dont think the sleaze ever really left, it just receded into the background. killer atmosphere, more pop hooks, a general darkness that felt credible coming from him because of the early stuff, its just lit with neon now. he gets increasingly more conceptual, which i love. i love a concept album. its still about fucked up relationships and now death more generally instead of drugs specifically. cool, great. i've been with him the entire time. that brings us up more-or-less to the present.

im not gonna recap all the shit around the idol, if you want it im sure theres an article or youtube video thatll do a better job than i can. ill just summarize my own thoughts: it feels like the sleaze is back, maybe some of the horror, but also Glamour. johnny depp's supermodel daughter has cum on her face. we're seeing headlines about how gross the sex scenes are. look how Glamorous this is. classic showbiz trick of using a cautionary tale about gross men preying on women to just....create images and narratives about gross men preying on women. this might be the place i cant follow him. i cant rule out watching it, i am a habitual hater and i might be in the mood to hate soon. but its making me think about the way we use glamour and beauty in entertainment. it cant be a default, it has an effect on the story.

[gazellefamily]

REALITY BITES (1994) "This seemingly simple rom-com warrants a complex dissection upon middle-age rewatch; mostly the love dilemma... Garbage fuckboy couch-surfing gaslighting ghosting EthHawke or ambitious mensch Stiller? How is this even a contest? Sure, Hawkes got better hair and plays electric guitar but he SUCKS and his polyester Goodwill clothes look like they reek of BO. Stiller is somehow supposed to be the villainous yuppie but he's actually fine? Literally ALL he did wrong was let some video editor go a bit overboard with Noni's documentary footage (quite honestly it looks like MY video editing style so I can confirm Noni would dump me too. And is the movie (reality) itself THAT much more verité? Were the trailers for this movie not exactly like the 'mainstream' bullshit editing it shits on? A russian doll of meta-irony) Stiller was just an MTV producer, not Patrick Bateman. Are we supposed to understand that his PLANET OF THE APES action figure is not cool but Hawkes knowledge of THE JEFFERSONS sitcom trivia IS cool???? And the worst part is that only as someone alive in the 90s I DO GET WHY HAWKE WINS but only because I remember this era. Its taken me decades to dismantle its influence. NOW? No one can slack, not for an instant. There is no shame in selling out for todays youth. Its dog eat dog out there. So we watch this today, so far removed from the era's socio-economics and cant fathom her decision. Today Noni would have no ideals, she would connect herself to mainstream success, whatever hairstyle the man has. She has a TikTok and an OnlyFans. Today Hawke has a GoFundMe or is on fentanyl. I miss the 90s. I miss boredom. If we thought reality bites back then, just wait. Twas the gilded age." -Sonny Gazelle

"Reality was totally fucking awesome and we didn't even know it. Noni at perhaps her foxiest - many women were dashed on the cliffs of that haircut but only SHE made it work. Actually you know what? I actually DID know that reality was awesome in 1994. I had literally zero problems and was psyched every day. Now I got worry. But maybe I need to just like...be the person I was in 1994?" -Tommy Gazelle

[shamelessrabbithole]

The looks thing you mentioned sounded so interesting that I’m coming out of anon to share some ideas without the word limit I keep fighting with while on mobile (I think I’m using the post option instead of the ask, please bear with me, I’m sorry, it was meant to be an ask). Also, hi! I’ve asked a lot of questions here and I greatly enjoy reading you :) I struggled with the parasocial feelings for a while too and this blog felt like a hug! In many ways!

So back to my point: “The same can be said for his sense of style. It’s devolved significantly, in that he used to be a very sharply dressed” (and the rest of the quote).

I have only followed him casually from mid 2023 up to now so I don’t know him that much but I’ve kind of developed a theory due to these more recent radical? look changes? I’m refering to the longer straightened up hair (sometimes very messy and unkept), then the moustache, the mullet… Also other minor decisions like not darkening his eyelashes and eyebrows, those small details. It sounds weird but it felt like he either didn’t care much about his looks (don’t wanna assume but sometimes due to not being in our best mental state, we stop caring a bit about our appearances or we simply can’t). Or he’s not specially trying to make himself look “handsome”, like what anyone would consider that way (more groomed, fresh haircut, etc). I thought that maybe he was walking away from potential love interests roles, trying to push them away? But the only proper love interests roles I’ve seen him in (love interest as the typical handsome guy who gets the girl at the end) were when he was younger. Like his Disney stuff. You mentioned earlier than the Cal Kestis plot also has a romantic twist but I’m only considering movies or series in the most traditional sense. Maybe he dislikes that category or feels like it limits/limited him? I know he did Shattered (never watched it) and other movies with romantic sub plot but he still… doesn’t fit what I’d call the romantic main lead. Now on Foxbody there’s a relationship, a kiss scene and whatever that requires an intimacy coordinator… But he wrote that. So it’s on his terms. He can write himself to be the man he wants to portray.

tl;dr I think he tried to leave the pretty boy appeal behind (pretty as in S1 Ian Gallagher). Now I see his latest portraits of himself (taken by himself -like the pool one- or like the one from the archival yesterday on his stories) and it feels very not sensual. Ofc portraits can have different themes but idk the photographies he takes of girls are very very sensual but he seems like an almost asexual being right now from the vibes he gives me, as opposed to the photoshoot with Peyton that screamed -yes, we fuck. So maybe he’s de- sexualizing his image as an actor? No more fuckboy Cam like the sauna pics. Even the summer daze picture is very tame. The latest skin show we got was that Scotland shirtless picture right? That’s my hypothesis. Maybe I’m speaking BS, feel free to tell me that too XD

Or maybe he’s just a guy who needs a stylist - one of my favorite tag of yours.

_______________

Well, first of all, thank you for saying that the blog is like a hug. I really appreciate that. It’s so kind of you and I’m glad it helps you cope.

The asexual aspect of Cam is something I’ve also noticed, but I’ve been speaking to it for months as celibacy. Where he once used to drip with sex appeal (in my eyes), he’s often replaced it with what some anons have called “gay bestie vibes.” Now that he’s doing the play, his sex appeal has taken a hit yet again and he reads like a somber fifties dad. Where did all of his natural magnetism go? (I’ll concede that he looks pretty hot in the Foxbody trailer, but I’ll reserve judgement about his love scene until we see it in its entirety.) You mentioned his photography and I find it all rather unsexy as well. 

Anyway, he was single for so long prior to Madison, that I frequently racked my brain wondering how a man in his position got laid while keeping it casual. How the women he did sleep with managed not to fall in love with him, etc. It was a hot topic of conversation on here, always. Declining sense of style aside, he’s still very capable of having sex whenever and wherever, so was it just limited to romps overseas with people like Emily and Vivi? We never got those answers.

Now that we’re in a new era, that leads me back to Madison who, for all her comfort with nudity and very close dance partnering with men, doesn’t seem sexual either. It’s probably why she and Cam seemed like friends for so long and maybe some people are still convinced that that’s all they are. I definitely understand your reasoning, that he’s shedding the pretty-boy appeal deliberately, but the question is—why? Why do that in Hollywood, where looking your best helps ensure the longevity of your career. And if a role ever calls for a “roughening up” of those looks, makeup artists are more than up for the task of turning beautiful people into goblins. 😂 

It’s more of what makes him so enigmatic to me, because I’m so incapable of getting into his head and trying to understand life from his point of view. Is he just an oddball or is he extremely calculated in every move he makes? Is he evolving more into his authentic self or stepping further away from it, and if he is, is that deliberate or out of his control? The questions never end!

[almostempty]

AHHHHHH hehehe. I originally wrote in my author's note that it was a challenge for me to not include any fuckboy behavior but then i had to edit and remove that thought bc i fear i did still give him a reputation bc i can't help it ??? i'm delighted you enjoyed and glad to have an expert opinion on the rodeo world heheheh i do fear charming tommy himbo miller--the only way he exists in my head thanks to @ellies-enrichment with the tlou + text posts (affectionate)--could, in fact, get it; and his season 2 look from the trailer is NOT helping me forget like move over old sad joel--what? who said that

right kind of dream (joel miller x f!reader) part one

wc: 12.5k | other fics | rating: 18+ | read on ao3 | PART TWO HERE

summary: rebuilding your life, chasing cans, and hitchin’ a ride to the rodeo with team roper joel

to my pedrostories secret santa recipient @katiexpunk: this was a challenge for ya gurl to be srs (and it’s not a tentacle gangbang, i lied in ur asks babe i’m srry) i hope i hit the mark on a handful of the prompts though, i had high hopes that i could really challenge myself and deliver some breeding kink cowboy but i fear it’s more of a creampie kink—i hope that still hits, i have horse knowledge, but only rodeo adjacent experience so if any rodeo queens find glaring mistakes pls forgive me — but happy holidays bb, i really hope you enjoy-- EDIT: I MADE IT TOO GIRTHY (or something?? sorry!!) and had to split it into two parts, the second part will be up and linked as asap as possible, and i'll add the full text to ao3 so it'll be in one spot

tags: modern cowboy joel au/ team roper joel and tommy, no sarah, enemies to lovers, dbf lite, choose your own age gap, small town romance, city girl returns to the country, miscommunication, guilty yearnful joel, horsegirl!joel, smut, ridin’ that cowboy bareback as the good lord intended, no beta–mistakes are my fault for writing at 4am 

thanks: to @syd-djarin, @auteurdelabre, @lovely-vamp-princess for support, eyes, ideas, etc.

The sun beats down on the gravel driveway as you pull your truck toward the old house. It looks almost the same as it did the summers you spent here as a kid when it was your grandparents–the peeling white paint on the porch railing, and the barn standing sturdy, but weathered further down the driveway. The fields stretched on as you rolled down the driveway, dotted with occasional wildflowers and critters dashing into the denser brush. 

The air blows warm through the window, same as you remember, but the weight of the memories feels different now. The summers used to feel endless here, the fields seemed endless, as did the sky. It all used to feel so liberating. It’s not an endless summer now. Everything looks smaller and more weathered. 

Except for the shiny white PVC fences on the other side of the driveway and the modern-looking house and barn built on the same soil you used to spend hours patrolling with your pony, Clover. She’d search for the best bits of grass as you laid across her back coming up with stories—some days you were an old-timey cowgirl traveling west or Clover was a wild horse you were training or you were on a quest to a magical kingdom together. 

But now it’s a new home for whoever bought up the parceled land your dad sold to cover the updates on the house when he inherited it. Someone with enough money for a fancy barn and shiny truck. You pull to a stop and hop out of the cab, still scanning the neighbor's property, making your first impression. 

Your dad emerges from the barn, wiping his hands on a faded rag. He gives you a smile and a nod. “About time you showed up,” he calls, his voice warm and teasing. “Thought maybe you had changed your mind.” 

You shake your head softly, rolling your eyes. “Nope. Nothing worth staying in that city for.” 

The gravel crunches under your boots as you round the bed to grab one of your boxes. All your belongings fit into a few boxes. At least, everything that mattered to you, everything that was still you. “Where do you want this?” You wonder how you’re going to manage living in the same house with your dad now that you’re an adult. 

“Just set it inside,” he said, gesturing to the house. “We’ll get you sorted after we have something to eat.” 

As you followed him toward the house, the outline of the neighbor's property loomed large. The barn caught your eye. It was close. A pair of horses stood in the near pasture, swishing their tails in the afternoon heat. The contrast was stark. Where your dad’s place still carried the scrapes and scuffs of decades–theirs looked new and polished. Smug even. Can a house be smug? 

“The neighbors are closer than I thought.” You cross the porch, the nostalgic screen door squeaking as your dad ushers you inside. 

“Don’t mind it. We look out for each other.” He points to the room you stayed in as a kid. “He damn near built the place by himself, and helped me with the new roof on this place.” 

You shoot him a sharp look. “You said you were gonna hire roofers instead of climbing around up there at your age.” He shrugs you off. Always stubborn. Convinced he can do it better and cheaper. Despite the toll on his body. 

“Paid him to help,” he argues, “wasn’t up there by myself. You don’t gotta worry about me like that.” 

You set your box down at the end of the twin-size bed, the room falling quiet for a moment. Your dad stays planted in the doorway, but his brows pinch and lips purse briefly before he lets out a breath. You scan the room, gaze landing on the floorboards, waiting. 

Instead of addressing the elephant in the room, he says, “You hungry?” 

You grin at that, letting out a shaky breath. Your father’s daughter, neither of you likes to dig into your feelings. He taught you to show love through actions, like keeping you fed, taking on hard labor jobs without a complaint, or changing your windshield wipers before the rainy season starts and you’re cursing yours out. 

“Yeah,” you say, brushing past the knot in your chest. “Starving.” 

The rumble of a diesel engine jolts you awake the next morning, the deep growly sound reverberating through the walls like thunder on an otherwise quiet morning. You groaned, stretching and blinking blearily at the pale light filtering in through the old curtains. It was barely dawn yet, which explains the dull headache you’ve got. 

Sleep had been restless. Tangled thoughts, ruminating on what you’d left behind. A failed engagement, the job you hated, the mix of excuses you had rehearsed for why you’d come back. You’d hoped coming here would ease the ache, but just when you were finally falling back asleep—the truck from hell pulled up to the house. 

The engine is already cut off, but now you can hear voices on the porch. Your dad’s, low and steady, just a hum, and another unfamiliar drawl. Whoever it is, they’re carrying on like the rest of the world wasn’t still trying to wake up. 

You drag yourself out of bed, wearing your soft sleep shorts and a thin shirt. The worn fabric clings to your body in places it shouldn’t, but you’re not thinking about being presentable, you aren’t really thinking at all yet. You drag your feet crossing to the kitchen to pour yourself coffee, for a brief moment you miss the coffee shop you used to stop at on the way to your old job, but the familiar roast your dad’s been loyal to has its charm. Like the free coffee at an AA meeting. It’s there and you need something to keep you going. 

You push past the squeaky screen door, stepping out onto the porch. Your dad sits on the worn bench, coffee in hand. Next to him, leaning casually against the railing is a man you don’t recognize. His black Stetson gives him a classic cowboy silhouette, the morning sun catches on the sharp cut of his jaw and the scruff on his cheeks. His plaid shirt stretches across his broad shoulders, his jeans are worn and dusty in a way that speaks to more than just appearances. 

He straightens when he sees you, pulling his hat off with one hand in a fluid, effortless motion. “Mornin’,” he says, voice low and rich. “You must be the daughter. Joel Miller.” 

You take a sip of your coffee. “Morning,” you mutter, voice still thick from sleep. “You always roll up this early, or is today special?” 

Your dad shoots a look at you, but Joel just chuckles softly. 

“Guessin’ you’re not a morning person?”

Your eyes are narrow, defensive. “I’m just fine in the mornings,” you say in a clipped tone that doesn’t support your statement. “Just not when I’m woken up by a jet engine at the asscrack of dawn.” The chill in the brisk morning air causes you to shiver for a moment somehow making you look more irritated. 

Joel glances at your dad with a faint smirk before tipping his hat to you. “Noted.” 

Your dad laughs. “Should’ve heard her when she was ten,” he says leaning back. “Wouldn’t let anyone tell her what to do. Still doesn’t take shit from anyone I guess.” 

“I’m right here,” you mutter, glaring at him.

“Just sayin’,” your dad replies, raising his mug in mock surrender. He turns back to Joel and they resume their conversation about fence posts or something equally riveting. You let your eyes roam as you wake up, drinking the rest of your coffee, tuning in and out of their conversation about their plans for the day. 

The easy camaraderie between the two of them was clear. Like a friendship forged through shared labor and quiet mornings. They flow between their plans for work and that subtle gossiping that men do–convinced it isn’t really gossip–as they share updates about other folks in town and a few of the local businesses. 

“What about you?” Joel asks, turning to you and pulling you out of the fog. “You’re back for a while then?”  

It’s an innocent question, but it grates at you anyway. You stiffen. “Yeah, just taking some time,” you say vaguely. 

Joel raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push for a real answer. You can feel the weight of his curiosity in the air between you. He looks to your dad, who doesn’t elaborate, letting something unspoken pass between them. 

“Well,” Joel drawls, “good timing. Lot of work to do this time of year. If you’re up for it.” 

The comment makes you pull a face. “I’m familiar with hard work,” you reply, your voice sharper than intended. 

Joel’s lips quirk again, into something like a smirk this time. “I’m sure you are,” he says with the faintest edge of a challenge. 

He takes a long swig from his stainless steel travel mug, trying to fix his eyes on the horizon. But damn, if it isn’t a challenge to see you standing there, looking every bit like you’d just rolled out of bed. In a shirt too damn thin for a morning like this, leaving too little to the imagination. 

He knew he shouldn’t be noticing something like that, shouldn’t look at you like that–especially not while you’re standing next to your dad. Hell, he shouldn’t want to look at all, but his eyes betray him. Darting for just a moment to your soft curves and the evidence of the chill in the air–the impression of your stiff nipples protruding in the soft fabric. 

Christ. He swallows hard, landing his eyes back on the scowl you wear on your face. You’re his friend's daughter. It just ain’t right. Sweet young thing like you. He battles the devil on his shoulder that reminds him you aren’t a kid. You’re a woman. A grown woman with your own life and clearly your share of grit, if the sharpness in your voice was anything to go by. 

He shifts on his feet, forcing his attention back to your dad who was still chuckling softly at something. Joel didn’t catch the joke, head too full of thoughts about you–or how to not think about you. He could feel the warmth creeping up his neck, unsettling him in front of your dad. 

You and him made loose plans for the day while Joel’s mind continued to wander. He shouldn’t have asked about why you were back. Your answer was vague, brushing him off like it was a privilege he hadn’t earned. For some reason that lodged it in his head further. He wanted to know more, even if he shouldn’t. 

Your dad stood up, stretching and declaring that all of you have work to do. You take that as your cue to head back inside, leaving the screen door swinging behind you. Joel lets out a low breath, shaking his head as he turns back to your dad. 

“She’s a spitfire,” Joel comments, keeping his tone neutral.  

“She is,” your dad agrees, adjusting his hat. “Good to have her back.”  

Joel huffs a small laugh, “S’pose we could use a strong woman around here. Keep us in line.” 

“No doubt she will,” your dad says, clapping him on the shoulder. The whole exchange stuck with Joel though. Something under that edge of yours, something unpolished that has him curious in a way he isn’t used to. He shakes his head knowing it isn’t his place to go digging. 

Your dad starts down the front steps. “Let’s get moving, then.” Joel moves mechanically, boots falling in line with your dad’s, but his mind is half on you—in that t-shirt, with that scowl on your face, and that faraway look that he’d like to unravel. 

You were used to hard work but your muscles weren’t exactly dialed in for the functional conditioning. It was humbling as you found yourself aching and exhausted by the end of the night. However, the fatigue did make it easier to fall asleep once your head hit the pillow instead of spiraling on about your failures until the birds started chirping. 

The next few days gave you a jump start into the rural routine. In bed early, up before the sun. Hot showers before dinner to wash away the layer of sweat and sweet-smelling dust from the pine shavings and hay. You found yourself looking forward to the strong coffee and the cool morning air before you started with your day. 

Your dad, and Joel, learned quickly to let you wake up rather than ask questions as they caught up on their plans before heading out together or splitting up. You didn’t mind listening, but you could feel Joel’s eyes lingering on you now and then. It made your spine straighten, determined to hide the sore muscles in your shoulders from him. If he was waiting to hear a complaint from you it was never gonna come. 

Despite getting more rest and having an endless list of labor to keep you moving–you often found yourself working solo and in silence during the day. A silence that your mind was more than happy to fill. You rehashed memories and dissected those little moments from your relationship with your ex-fiance that you wish you had seen more clearly at the time. 

You’re deep in one of those memories, mindlessly stacking bales of hay onto the trailer for a delivery your dad is making tomorrow when Joel enters the other end of the barn. He leans against the door, arms crossed loosely over his chest, just watching you work. The warm scent of hay fills the air, grounding and everpresent in his life. 

It wasn’t anything remarkable, just a common chore he’d do without thinking twice. But watching you was a whole different story. Your shirt was damp with sweat as you leaned into the work like you’d done it your whole life. You climb up a stack of bales and toss down some from the top of the next row, unaware of his presence. 

He is mesmerized by you. The sharp look on your face like you were mulling over an argument, the fluid movements as you worked, and the determination radiating off of you as you worked at an urgent pace. 

His gaze drifts lower as you climb down and bend to heave another bale onto the flatbed trailer. The muscles in his jaw tense as he lingers on the curve of your back as you bend to grab another. The way your legs shift as you work. The outline of your body in that shirt, the soft grunt you let out as you hoist another bale had him thinking indecent thoughts before he could stop himself. 

Joel drags his hand over his face, fingers brushing his scruffy jaw. Heat burning within him that has nothing to do with the Texas sun transforms into irritation. He was considering copping out and disappearing before you even noticed him when he was outed by the damn barn cats. 

The orange cat comes sprinting towards him, but it’s the black and white one meow-yelling at him down the aisle that catches your attention. A dull thud echoes through the barn as you drop another bale and watch as Joel squats down to give the cats the attention they demand. You watch, catching your breath. He’s gentle with them, murmuring something you can’t hear before he stands and strolls toward you. 

“Afternoon,” he greets you in his deep baritone voice. Joel grabs the two-string bale of hay in front of you and drops it on the trailer with ease, grabbing another before you can interject. 

“I can handle it.” You huff as you resume your task. 

“Never said you couldn’t,” he replies smoothly, setting another down. “Thought it’d go faster with two sets of hands.” 

“I wasn’t in a hurry.” You eye him warily for a moment before slipping into a coordinated dance like it was natural. Tossing the rest that needed to be loaded up into the aisle for him to grab. You work in silence, just the sounds of hay shifting and boots scuffing against the barn floor. 

You break the silence first. “Dad says you and your brother hit the rodeo circuit in the summer. That true?” 

Joel huffs a soft laugh. “True.”

“You compete?”

“Team roping,” he says, his voice warming slightly. “Me and Tommy hit most of the circuits within a day's drive from here. Keeps us outta trouble.”

You roll your eyes. “Hard to picture you in trouble, cowboy.”

Joel’s smirk returned, faint but there. “You’d be surprised, sweetheart.” He matches your playful tone. 

His words linger as you work, stirring something you don’t quite know what to do with. Your mind drifts to the idea of rodeoing, the adrenaline of it, the discipline it demands. You forgot how much you missed it, how much you gave up chasing a life that didn’t pan out the way you hoped. 

Joel shifts beside you, the faint scrape of his boots pulling you back to the present. You glance at him, catching the way his shirt clung slightly to his back, the easy strength in the way he moves.

For a moment, the quiet feels comfortable. Easy. The steady rhythm fills the space. But eventually, Joel speaks again. 

“Your dad said you used to spend summers out here,” he says, in a low and easy tone. 

“Yeah,” you say, a little out of breath from the exertion. “When I was a kid.”

Joel brushes some loose hay off of his shirt. “Guessin’ it’s different now.” 

“Everything’s different now,” you mutter, more to yourself than to him. 

His brow furrows slightly. “What brought you back?” 

You hesitate, not looking him in the eye. You’re searching for an answer in the dust particles caught in a beam of sunlight. “Just needed time to…rebuild.” It’s still vague. 

“You runnin’ from something?” 

You tense at that, before covering it in sarcasm. “I’m not an outlaw,” you jest, earning you a small smile. He doesn’t press further, but you feel his eyes on you, steady, and patient like he’s waiting in case you offer more. 

“It’s not as simple as people make it sound,” you say finally, the words slipping out before can stop them. “Starting over, that is.” You sit on a bale and pull your work gloves off, running the back of your hand over your forehead smearing sweat and dust in a most unsatisfying way. 

“No, it ain’t,” he adds quietly. 

Something in his tone makes your chest tighten, but you ignore the sensation. “What about you? How’d you end up here?” 

“Had to start over myself, I reckon,” he muses, dusting off his hands before sitting down next to you. The words hang in the air, heavier than you expected. He doesn’t look at you, instead, he watches the cats play with a piece of baling twine. “This place made it easier—focusing on getting the house built and getting the business running. Your dad helped too.” 

That catches you off guard. “My dad?” 

Joel nods, finally meeting your eyes. “Just seemed to understand, I guess.” 

You stare at him. You’re disarmed by the softness in his tone. Like there’s more beneath the surface if you ask for it. 

Joel feels the air thicken. He takes in the way your sweat-damp shirt clings to you, and the heavy rise and fall of your chest. For a split second, an image flashes in his mind—your chest heaving for a very different reason, your skin flushed and shining. His throat tightens, and he looks away quickly, cursing himself for letting his thoughts slip. 

The cats weave between your legs, easing the silence. But the air between you still feels charged. Your thighs are nearly touching. The proximity feels overwhelming for some reason and you're suddenly caught up in the details of his profile as he stares down at the floor. The lines at the corner of his eye, his nose, his lips.

He clears his throat and slaps a palm on his thigh. “Well,” he starts, standing up rather abruptly. “Just came by to check-in. See how you’re settling in.” 

“What?” You frown. You miss the grimace that flashes on his face, your eyes drawn to the cats darting away from the two of you. “How I’m settling in?” 

“Yeah, you know…” he gestures vaguely around the barn and your brows furrow and your eyes sharpen at him. Irritation flickers behind your eyes. 

“I told you I’m not afraid of hard work,” you snap, jumping to your feet in front of him. 

“That’s not what I meant,” he grumbles, like you’re misunderstanding him. 

“Did my dad send you to ‘check in’ on me? Or did you want to see if I could keep up?” 

“It ain’t like that.” He says lowly. 

“Right.” You cut, crossing your arms. You’re over this rollercoaster of a conversation. Your eyes catch on the deep crease between his brows and the glint in his dark eyes. Something flares in your chest. You can’t tell if it’s indignation or something else entirely. “Then what is it?”

His jaw tightens, gaze locked with yours. Something unspoken flickers in his expression. But instead of answering, he straightens, stepping back. “Doesn’t matter,” he says curtly. 

Your stomach twists at the coolness of his tone, the connection you just felt snapping like a wire. 

“This was a mistake,” Joel mutters to himself. 

“What was?” you asked, your voice deadly quiet. 

Joel only shakes his head before striding toward the far door. His boots echo on the floor and the cats follow after him like shadows, their tails swishing as they dart out into the sun. Joel pauses in the doorway, glancing back with a look you don’t understand. 

“Don’t work too hard now.” His voice carries easily before he stalks off.

Your thoughts have you spinning. “The fuck is his problem?” you wonder out loud, sharp in the warm air. In the space he left. 

But deep down, you can feel the edge of something else. Something more than frustration, curling low and unwelcome in your chest. The weight of his gaze was still lingering, and try as you might, you can’t ignore the way his presence had pressed into every corner of the barn, or the faint scent of leather and bourbon that still hangs in the air. 

Your routine locks into place, and the days begin to pass in a blur. Joel stops by for coffee and acts like the conversation you had in the barn never happened. The stoic, gruff cowboy thing works just fine with you.

Except for the moments you catch him staring at you like he’s trying to find an answer to something he never asked.

If you’re honest, though, despite your hostility, you seem to catch yourself studying him with the same frequency and intensity. You’re loath to admit you catch yourself hung up on his obnoxiously broad shoulders, his arms sculpted from the physically demanding work, and that gravelly morning voice he has before he finishes his coffee.

Aside from whatever Joel’s problem with you is, everything else seems to be falling into place. You catch up on your dad’s list of projects. You pick up a part-time job at the feed store in town, keeping yourself too busy to have idle time and too tired to dwell on the past or the future. You get to know folks in the town while you work at the register.

The town seems smaller than it was when you were a kid, but there’s also a charm in the simplicity that you find comfort in. The regulars keep you up to date on the town gossip, and you’re laughing loudly with your boss, Linda, one day over a joke she’d never admit to teaching you when your neighbor struts up to you with a list in hand for a bulk feed order.

You’re cordial to him and the man at his side who gives you a flirty wink that has you raising your eyebrows in disbelief for a moment before you put it together. “You must be Tommy?”

He grins brightly and offers his hand. “And you must be the neighbor?” You give him your name and a polite smile. Your eyes flick to Joel, taking in his neutral expression. His hands rest in his pockets, but his posture is loose, his broad shoulders back in a way that draws your eye before you can stop yourself.

As you enter the details of their order into the prehistoric computer, Linda chats both of the men up, asking them about their horses and when their next rodeo is.

You give Joel his total and take his payment, trying not to roll your eyes when he doesn’t make eye contact with you. You’re ready for the interaction with him to be over when Linda puts you on the spot.

“This one’s been talking about looking for a project horse of her own.” She nods her head toward you. “You boys have any leads for her?”

You can feel your face heating up as they both look at you. It’s not like it was a secret, but you weren’t planning on making Joel privy to your plans. You still haven’t forgotten the way he said this was a mistake after having one conversation with you. Or the way he is always looking at you. Like you don’t belong here or something.

“I’ll do you one better,” Tommy says. “We’ve got a couple of colts just getting started under saddle. They could use the miles, and they’re real sweet-tempered if you wanna come by during the week.”

“Thanks, Tommy.” You give him a genuine smile. “I’m actually going to take a look at one that’s got potential this weekend. Marilyn from the post office said her cousin’s got a six-year-old quarter horse she’d sell for a steal.”

Joel lets out a dismissive laugh under his breath. “You mean that Hancock gelding? The blue roan?”

“Yeah.” You confirm, slowly growing more confused by the reactions on all of their faces. “Why?”

Linda’s mouth is hanging open like you said the devil was gonna sell you his horse. Tommy gives you a modest smile like you’ve told him two plus two equals eight, but he’s too polite to correct you. Joel’s expression remains unreadable, but the crease between his brows deepens.

“Am I missing something?” you ask, hoping for an explanation. You do not like feeling like you’re being played for a fool. 

“She’d sell that horse for a dime and a handshake,” Linda says. “Her cousin broke her jaw getting bucked off that horse. That’s why he’s been out to pasture ever since.”

You’re quiet for a beat before the familiar challenge and determination wrap around your heart. “Can’t hurt to look,” you say with a shrug.

“Hancocks are notoriously stubborn and broncy,” Joel adds, his tone low and edged with warning.

“They’re also incredibly smart, loyal, and full of try if you earn their trust and ask ‘em the right way,” you shoot back, meeting his eyes for just a moment too long. Why does it always feel like he thinks you’re out of your element? Does he think you’re incompetent? It only strengthens your desire to prove him wrong.

Joel’s mouth presses into a thin line, but his gaze doesn’t waver, and it stirs something uncomfortable low in your chest.

“So I’ve heard,” Tommy cuts the tension simmering between you and Joel. “Offer still stands if he doesn’t work out.”

“Thanks.” You pointedly direct your appreciation to Tommy, not looking back at Joel. “We’ll give you a call when the order’s in.”

They take that as their signal to move along. You think that would be the end of the drama for the day, but Linda’s got one more tidbit in store after the door closes behind the two men.

“God, those two are so hot it’s unbearable,” she sighs. It catches you off guard, and you blink at her. “Too bad they’re cowboy Casanovas.”

“What?” You give her a scrupulous look, shifting on your feet as she leans against the counter.

“Oh, yeah,” Linda says with a knowing smirk. “Every buckle bunny in a three-county radius knows those two. I hear they have a sign-up sheet at the trailer.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head, but the image comes unbidden—Joel, shirtless and panting, sweat glistening on his chest, his jeans slung low on his hips, every muscle taut as he leans over some woman. His gravelly drawl slides through your mind like warm honey as he murmurs something low and dirty, but you can’t make out the words. Your thought derails violently, and you scowl at yourself, heat rushing up your neck, but Linda’s still talking. 

“I’d stand in line for either of ‘em if I were single,” she adds with a shrug.

The image morphs into smug Joel tipping his hat, a self-satisfied grin on his face as some random woman climbs out of his bed. Your throat tightens unexpectedly, and you shove the thought away, scowling at the knot of irritation it leaves behind.

The trailer rocks faintly as you haul it slowly down the driveway toward the barn. Blue shifts inside, and the loud thud of him pawing at the floor, anxious to get out of the small space, echoes loudly in the driveway as you ease to a stop. You cut the engine and hop out of the cab, you can hear your dad’s boots on the porch steps before he’s striding toward you. “You actually brought him home, huh?” 

“You knew I would.” You grin. Your dad unlatches the trailer door and you slip past the divider to untie your new gelding and back him out of the trailer. Blue’s ears flick rapidly and he snorts like a dragon, wary of his unfamiliar surroundings, but you steady him with a calm voice and wait for him to drop his head before coaxing him backward. 

His hooves hit the solid ground and he blows out a sharp breath, shaking his neck to de-stress. “He’s gonna be perfect,” you say, running a hand along his neck. “Just needs someone who knows what they’re doing.” 

Your dad gives you a look that says he knows he couldn’t change your mind if he tried. His gaze flicks over Blue’s body, taking in his confirmation and conditioning, the scar on his back leg, the brand on his flank, and the stocky ranch horse build. “Linda said he’s got a bad reputation.” 

“Linda says a lot of things,” you shoot back, leading Blue toward the barn. “He was misunderstood. Had a rough start, that’s all. That girl who got bucked off never shoulda had him to begin with—not after he’d been out to pasture for so long. She was scared, and he felt it.” 

Your dad hums, the kind of sound that tells you he’s skeptical but not enough to argue. “Well, he’s in good hands now.” 

“And we both know I like a challenge,” you say with a steady voice, edged with something sharper. 

The sound of boots on gravel draws your attention and you glance back to see Joel strolling over from the direction of his property. His hat tipped low as his dark eyes flick between you and Blue. 

“Afternoon,” he calls, steady and smooth. 

Your dad turns and gives him a nod. “Joel.” 

“That the Hancock gelding?” 

“Yeah,” you reply shortly, adjusting Blue’s halter. 

Joel steps closer, his expression unreadable as he studies the gelding. Blue swishes his tail before shifting his weight, resting one back leg like he’s already starting to relax. Joel walks a circle around Blue, before pausing next to your dad. “Well-built,” he comments. “Is he sound?” 

You can barely hold back your eye-roll. “I had Barb meet me at the farm for a pre-purchase exam. Passed with flying colors.” You swallow down your irritation. Once again Joel thinks you’re a fool? That you’d go off and pick up a horse without a vet inspection?

Before you give Joel a piece of your mind you take a steadying breath, grounding yourself and whispering into Blue’s ear. “He might doubt both of us but he’ll be eating his fuckin’ words real quick once you and I get started.” With that, you turn away and lead Blue to the barn. 

Joel watches the two of you walk off, resting his hand on his hip. “She got a death wish or somethin’?” he grumbles.

Your dad crosses his arms, both men still watching the barn door where the two of you disappeared. “She’s tougher than she looks. And she’s got more patience than the two of us combined—for animals that is. Lord knows she’ll let us have it just for looking at her sideways.” 

Joel grunts, ignoring the heat crawling up his neck at the thought of you telling him off. “Hope you’re right.” 

“It’ll be good for her to have her own project. Haven’t seen that light in her eyes since she got here. S’about time she started moving on.” Your dad’s words eat at Joel. He still wants to know what you’re trying to rebuild from, but he doesn’t ask. Letting the silence stretch before your dad continues. 

“Plus, she’s got the right touch for it,” your dad drawls, tone laced with pride. “Always drawn to the ones that seem a little rough around the edges.” 

Joel doesn’t respond right away. His eyes narrow on the horizon, but his gaze flicks back to where you walked off, the sway of your hips lingering longer than it should. The deeply twisted interpretation of your dad’s words messing with his mind. 

In the barn, Blue seems less concerned about getting the lay of the land now that there’s food in front of him. He munches greedily, tearing hay out of the net tied in the stall. You’re buzzing with a mix of emotions, already imagining the next steps for the two of you. 

Your thoughts fall back on Joel and your dad, their low voices carrying faintly in the warm air. You can picture Joel still standing there, one hand on his hip, eyes fixed on you, that infuriatingly unreadable look expression he always has. 

Your chest tightens, heat rising in your cheeks as you lean against the stall door. You hate how Joel looks at you like that. Like he’s waiting for you to fuck up. To prove him right. Like he’s already decided you’re in over your head. 

“He doesn’t know me,” you mutter under your breath, “doesn’t know you,” you tell Blue, “doesn’t know shit.” 

Blue snorts softly, and you take that as his agreement, a smile tugging at your lips. 

Days blur into a steady rhythm—early mornings with Blue, afternoons at the feed store, and long evenings under the arena lights. Each ride sharpens your connection with him, his turns growing tighter, his strides more confident. Progress comes in small, steady victories, each one lighting a spark of hope in your chest.

One afternoon, when the sun hangs low in the sky, painting the fields with warm hues of orange and gold. From his spot near the fence of his own property, Joel leans one arm against the top rail, his black felt Stetson shading his eyes. Across the way, you’re working with Blue in the makeshift round pen. 

Joel can tell from the way you hold yourself that you’re tired. Your shoulders seem stiff and your jaw tense. But you don’t stop. Your voice carries in the breeze, warm and steady as you encourage Blue to make another pass. 

The horse resists, throwing his head and stomping at the ground, but you don’t flinch. You give him the space to settle before asking again. Joel’s lips twitch, with a hint of a smile. You’ve got grit. 

He can’t shake the feeling that you’re working off more than just the horse’s rough edges. You move with purpose and focus, but with a weight that doesn’t seem entirely about Blue. 

From where Joel stands, he can’t make out every detail, but it doesn’t stop his eyes from lingering. You draw his attention with a pull that he can’t resist.

Against his better judgment. He traces the line of your spine as you step forward, the way your hips shift when you pivot. He knows better than to look, knows it’s wrong, but he can’t stop himself. 

Blue gives in, his steps evening out as he settles into a steady rhythm circling you. Joel watches as you slow him to a halt. The tension in your posture releases and you reach out with ease and satisfaction to stroke Blue’s neck. 

That invisible pull between you draws your eyes to where Joel is standing. Your face hardens when you catch him observing your training session. He gives you a nod before pushing off the rail and heading into the barn. 

He catches glimpses of you working together in the mornings and evenings. He tries to stop himself from watching, but it’s useless. He catches himself inadvertently timing out his schedule to be able to keep an eye on you. Tells himself he wants to be sure someone’s keeping an eye on you in case something goes wrong. Or that he’s curious about your progress. 

He can admit he admires your perseverance and the skill you have. He would never admit the way he finds himself waking up hard and aching thinking about you and what it’d feel like to have your hips rocking on his lap instead of a saddle, your tits bouncing in his face, and your sweet blissed out smile. And when trudges up the steps of your porch in the mornings to see if your dad needs anything from town—he prays neither of you can see the remnants of his sins in his eyes. 

He can’t stop himself from trying to talk to you, though. One morning he asks straight up, “How’s the project horse coming along?” He tries to sound casual, averting his eyes as he sips his coffee. 

Your smile flickers, equal parts excitement and hesitation flashing across your face. “Good,” you say after a beat, sitting on the wooden bench. “He learns quick, got good stamina and drive.” 

Joel hums, tilting his head slightly. “He give you any trouble?” 

Your jaw tenses, though you try to hide it. “Nothing I can’t handle,” you reply, tightly. 

Joel nods. “Good,” he says simply, but he still looks at you, like there’s something else weighing on his mind. 

Your dad clears his throat, breaking the tension. “She’s got him started on the pattern already.” 

“You gonna run barrels?” Joel asks, curiosity sneaking into his eyes. 

“That’s the plan.” 

Joel hums, taking a long pause. “You wanna run him in a real arena? Bring him over to get some practice in with the right kind of footing and see what he’s really got for a motor?” 

Your eyes narrow and your shoulders tighten, straining with disbelief. A real arena? It’s like nothing you do is ever good enough for him. “We’re getting along just fine as is, thanks.” The words are dripping with venom as you slip back into the house letting the screendoor slam shut behind you. 

Joel’s brows furrow. “Didn’t mean no harm, by it,” he says to your dad. “My mistake,” he adds gruffly. 

Your dad looks a bit miffed at the sharpness of your rejection but gives Joel a shrug back. “She’s always gotta do it her own way.” 

The conversation with Joel sticks in your mind. You’re still chewing it over that evening as you run Blue through some drills, working on his lead changes and corners. When you finally bring him down to walk to cool down you hear the sound of hooves hitting the dirt across the field. Sharp and rhythmic. You walk Blue along the fence line. Pausing when you catch sight of Joel and Tommy in their outdoor arena. 

Their horses move like extensions of their bodies. You loosen the reins, letting Blue’s head sway with every step as you stay transfixed on the two men. Tommy’s bay gelding moves with a quick, snappy stride. His hindquarters tucked under him as he spins on a dime at Tommy’s commend. You can feel the thrill and see Tommy’s grin from where you sit. It’s infectious. You roll your eyes as he tosses his rope catching the dummy steer in a single fluid motion. 

You make another lap before you let yourself study Joel. 

He’s riding his big red mare, her muscles rippling in the sun as she powers forward at a lope. Joel’s hand is steady on the reins, his posture relaxed but exact. Every movement he makes is calculated, and deliberate, yet to an untrained eye seems completely natural and fluid. Like he and his horse were born to do it. He barely shifts to ask the mare to pivot. Her body arcs beautifully, bending around his leg as they make a sharp turn toward the roping dummy. 

You’ve seen good riders before, but there’s something different about the way works. He doesn’t just ride—he leads. Every muscle he moves is a quiet conversation between him and his horse. It’s seamless and controlled. And damn if it isn’t mesmerizing. 

He leans forward slightly, and your mouth goes dry watching his arm flexing as he tosses the rope with precision. His red mare halts instantly, kicking up dirt around her hooves. Joel adjusts his hat with a smooth motion, you can see the focus on his face. Serious and competitive.

You swallow hard as you change directions, still walking on a loose rein very aware that Blue’s sweat is long dried by now. You feel warmth burning in your core that has nothing to do with your tired muscles. He looks good out there. Too good. The kind of good that makes you think about things you shouldn’t be thinking about. Your eyes drift, taking in the way his jeans hug his thighs, the line of his back as he shifts in the saddle. You imagine his hands, thick, precise fingers. Something coils hot and tight within you. You shake your head at yourself. You are not having those thoughts about Joel Miller who thinks you don’t know your ass from your elbow. You swing your leg over the back of the saddle dropping to your feet. Loosening your cinch and still trying to shake your thoughts out of your mind when you hear Tommy hollering at you. 

“Watch and learn, neighbor!” Tommy calls, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

You glance up, cheeks burning as Tommy tips his hat your way with his charismatic grin. Joel follows his gaze, dark eyes locking on you for a moment. Tommy gives you a demonstration of his prowess with the rope–as if you hadn’t been watching–but, Joel says nothing before turning his mare and heading in the opposite direction. 

His cool look sends a shiver down your spine. 

You walk back to the barn, and the sound of their horses fades behind you, but that image of Joel sears into your mind. His commanding and maddeningly attractive exhibition just stoked a fire you’re desperate to ignore. 

You have the same stubborn streak as your father and you’d be damned if you’re gonna cave and ask Joel to use his facility. You find a summer barrel series in a nearby town with low entry fees.

You start hauling Blue out to get some experience. At first, his runs are clumsy, but as you get your miles in, his turns get tighter, his confidence grows, and your times get quicker. And you quickly feel like the two of you are ready to enter your first rodeo.

The air smells like dirt and livestock, as you unload your horse and tie him to the side of your trailer. There’s a hum from the generators, buzzing conversations, and the occasional whinny of a horse or thud as one paws at the dirt.

You had made a point not to ask if Joel and Tommy would be attending, but you catch his familiar shoulders tapering to his slim waist, with one boot on the lowest rung of the fence a few yards ahead when you head toward the warmup pen before your division gets called. He isn’t even facing your direction but you instinctively square your shoulders and raise your chin. You wonder if he’s just here to see if you’re going to fail. Or maybe he’s just watching to earn some other woman’s favor. 

Something ugly simmers in your blood and your chest feels tight. You attribute it to irritation, refusing to acknowledge any alternate reasons. You’re going to prove him wrong. 

You’re still staring at him when he turns to say something to the man standing next to him. You grit your teeth. Superstitious–as every cowboy is–his usual salt and pepper scruff is neatly trimmed, he’s got on a pair of deep blue Wranglers–nicer than you figure he owned, and a crisp long-sleeve pearl snap. Dressed to earn Lady Luck’s favor. 

The devil on your shoulder whispers a thought in Linda’s teasing voice. He doesn’t need to do all that to get lucky. You take a deep breath and peel yourself away from the sight. You’re here to focus on Blue, not your asshole neighbor and his conquests.

Despite trying to let go of your issues with Joel, a scowl stays plastered on your face throughout your warmup. Blue picks up on your distraction and he’s a little hot, as you head him toward the alleyway when it’s time for your run. Against your will, your eyes search for Joel. A wash of heat floods your veins when you find him already watching you. He mouths good luck at you and you can only manage a curt smile before you’re pushing Blue to a lope, making one tight circle before you cross the start. The sound of his hooves pounding into the dirt matches the blood pounding in your ears. The burst of adrenaline is instant. The run isn’t perfect. He breaks his stride around the second barrel and you lose time nudging him back into rhythm, but you finish the pattern without knocking anything over. The announcer calls your time as you slow to a trot, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. It’s such a blur you don’t think to look for Joel. You don’t think about him at all until you’re untacking Blue at your trailer, brushing sweat marks from his coat when movement near another horse trailer catches your eye.

Joel stands close to a woman with long, shiny dark hair. She flashes a wide smile, leaning toward him and resting a hand lightly on his arm. The sight makes you grimace. You shove down the feeling. “None of our business,” you mutter to Blue as you keep brushing. But, your eyes flick back despite yourself. She tilts her head, laughing at something he says, or doesn’t say, you can’t tell. He stands stiffly, hands in his pockets. You can’t see his face from your angle.

The woman reaches to touch him again, and you feel a headache brewing in the back of your skull. Joel glances away from her, landing in your direction for the shortest moment, before his weight shifts and he takes a small step back. You scowl again, tossing your brush back into the tack room shelf with more force than necessary making Blue toss his head. Your heart thuds louder than it should and you run a hand over Blue’s cheek, murmuring softly to calm both him and yourself. When you glance back, the woman is still talking, but Joel’s looking at you again. His dark eyes are sharp under the brim of his hat. He nods, barely noticeable, before turning away from the woman entirely. You clench your jaw, forcing yourself to take another deep breath before loading Blue back into the trailer to head out. You weren’t sticking around to watch any of the other events. Especially not the team roping. 

You smile when you pull onto the highway. You count the day as a success and feel ready to enter a bigger rodeo. The idea makes you glow. Finally feeling like you’re getting back to your true self. You feel like a new woman compared to the version of you that showed packed up her truck desperate to put miles between your ex-fiance and your corporate nightmare.

“It’s not that bad,” you argue, crossing your arms as your dad leans against the truck with a skeptical look. “The hell it’s not,” he replies, gesturing toward the trailer. “That’s floor is one step away from dropping your horse onto the damn highway.” You sigh, dragging a hand over your face. “I know,” you grumble lowly, disappointment sinking in your stomach. “I was just hoping you’d see something I didn’t.” “Sorry kid,” your dad says. “S’fine. I’ll figure something out. Or just eat the entry fees I paid.” “Or,” he says pointedly, “you could ask Joel.” You glare at him, fire burning in your chest. “I don’t need his charity.” “Ain’t charity,” he interrupts your sour attitude with a gruff tone. “He’s practically family. Don’t let your pride get in the way of your goals.” The words stick, heavy and uncomfortable. You’ve got half a mind to keep arguing. Joel might be your dad’s best friend, but he’s nothing like family to you. But before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re dragging yourself up the steps of Joel’s front porch. 

You realize as your boot hits the last step that you’ve never been to his place. He always offers to have you and your dad over for a whiskey or for a fire out back, but you always brush him off. You see why your dad takes him up on it though.

It’s beautifully made with stunning wooden chairs and a bench for seating on the porch. You’d consider complimenting him on his craftsmanship if you weren’t already dreading what you’re about to say. Joel opens the door, his hat already in hand like he’d been expecting you. “Somethin’ wrong?” “Yeah,” you admit, trying not to hesitate. “Uh, trailer’s shot,” you point your thumb in the direction of your dad’s place. “Was wondering if you’d have room in your trailer to haul Blue with your horses.” 

The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches. The gleam in his eye makes you want to say never mind. You brace for a smart-ass remark. “‘Course,” he replies. You blink, caught off guard by the simplicity of it. “Of course?” 

He leans back into the house to grab something, then he’s handing you his keys. “Load your tack up tonight, and get your bags in the living quarters.” “No need,” you shake your head, leaving him holding the keys between you. “I’ve got the truck. And a tent.” 

Joel leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. You pointedly avoid how his sleeves strain around his biceps. “You’re ridin’ with us. Not riskin’ that truck dyin’ on the highway.” You glare, lips pressed into a thin line. Of course, you’ve got a trailer with a busted floor and a truck with more miles than you’d like to admit on it—while Joel has a shiny truck from this decade and a horse trailer with a tack room and living quarters. Probably has AC and everything.

You catch the glint in his eye, realizing you’re the one asking for a favor and you steel yourself, reminding yourself to bite your tongue.

“Fine,” you grit out, holding your hand out for the keys.

The truck hums beneath you, the steady vibration doing nothing to ease the thick tension in the cab. Tommy’s passed out in the back seat, his hat tipped low over his face, leaving you alone with Joel and the steady drone of the country ballad playing through the speakers.

“You always listen to this?” you ask, breaking the silence as you reach toward the radio.

Joel glances at you, one hand resting casually on the wheel. “Somethin’ wrong with it?”

“Didn’t know you were a ‘sad songs for sad cowboys’ kind of guy,” you mutter, flicking through stations before he can answer.

Joel doesn’t stop you, but when you pause on something irritatingly upbeat, his hand moves toward the knob just as yours does.

Your fingers brush his, and the contact jolts through you like a live wire.

You pull back instinctively, your breath catching as your heart slams against your ribs. Joel pauses for half a second before retreating, his knuckles tightening faintly on the wheel.

The silence that follows is suffocating.

Joel stares ahead, his jaw clenching as his thoughts spiral. He knew telling you to ride with him was playing with fire. But he can’t stay away from the heat. You glance out the window, pretending the spark you felt wasn’t real. It’s just Joel, always better than you, always an ass. The charged silence stretches on though, every shift of his hand on the wheel drawing your attention. Every shallow breath reminds you of his proximity. 

“This’ll do,” you say tightly. Joel huffs softly, but says nothing, keeping his eyes pointed straight ahead. Neither of you speaks again for the rest of the drive, but the weight of the accidental touch remains, thick and suffocating. The rodeo grounds are already alive with motion by the time you’re parked and unloading the horses. The evening sun casts an amber glow over the circus of trucks, tents, and trailers. You help get the portable fence set up and the horses settled before the three of you head off to check in at the visitor's tent and get your meal tickets. 

The smell of barbecue wafts through the air and you get in line to fill your plate. Folks chat eagerly. Tommy strikes up an easy conversation with a group of riders near the picnic tables.

You watch as some folks head back to their campsites, hesitating on whether you want to do the same or find a table. Joel passes you and sits at a nearby table and before you can debate any longer a voice interrupts your thoughts. “Long travel day?” the wiry cowboy drawls, tipping his hat and gesturing to the bench next to him. “Take a seat.” 

You give him a quizzical look, but you’re hungry enough to take the opportunity to sit and eat. 

“Name’s Cody.” He introduces himself while you eat. He tells you he’s a bull rider. Asks if you’re runnin’ barrels tomorrow. He’s chatty with a smooth and easy voice and a playful look on his youthful face. You answer his questions, politely, suddenly keenly aware of Joel’s gaze boring into the back of your head. It makes your spine prickle with something you can’t name. The heat of his stare burns into you, fierce and unwavering, making every laugh at Cody’s jokes feel like defiance. Cody continues on and you find it easy to listen to his stories, but you can’t help feeling compelled to glance over your shoulder betraying the distraction you’re trying to ignore. Cody points out some of the other riders he knows and invites you to come hang out at their campsite and have a drink. You’re still searching for the right words when you catch sight of Joel walking swiftly past your table. He mutters something to Tommy–who seems to be proving Linda’s rumors true with a woman wrapped around his arm and batting her lashes at him–and stalks off. Your stomach twists as you watch him go, irritation flaring hot and fast. “The fuck is his problem?” you mutter under your breath, turning back to your plate. Cody shrugs, clearly oblivious. “Who knows? Anyway—” But you’ve already tuned him out, your eyes following the path Joel struts down before he disappears.

You joined Cody and his friend for one drink, hoping it would ease your nerves. He had a kind group, a little rough around the edges, but tough as nails like you’d expect bull riders to be. They kept your mind distracted with their wild stories, but you decided to head back to the trailer before anyone got drunk and stupid. The walk back to the trailer feels longer than it should, every step weighed down by something stirring within you, something that has you on edge. You check on the horses before pulling the door open and climbing into the living quarters. The cool night air hasn’t soothed the heat that’s been simmering within you since dinner—or since that moment in the truck if you’re honest. You toe off your boots before looking up to see Joel, leaning against the wall, his jaw set tight, and his eyes sharp as they snap to yours.

“Where’s Tommy?” you ask, realizing it’s just the two of you in the small space. “Reckon he’ll be out til the sun's up,” Joel says in a quiet, low tone. “Alright,” you nod. Another point goes to Linda for that one, you figure. Joel’s jaw remains set in that infuriatingly unreadable way that seems to be his signature look. The dim light in the trailer casts sharp shadows across his face that darken his gaze. “You enjoy yourself? With your new friend?” he asks, his voice raw, edged with something you can’t place. You stop short, narrowing your eyes. “Excuse me?” He steps closer, reaching past you to hang his hat on the hook by the door. “Took your time gettin’ back.” He says, his eyes flick over you, dark and assessing.

You’re acutely aware of the scent of the campfire on your shirt and beer on your lips. It swirls with his leather and bourbon musk like they were designed to enhance each other. His words sink in, cutting and daring. “What’s your point?” “Did you fuck him?” The bluntness of it knocks the breath out of you. Your mouth falls open. Shock and fury battling for control as you glare at him. “What did you just say to me?” “You heard me, sweetheart,” Joel says, his voice calm but razor-sharp. “Just wondering if that cowboy got what he was after.” It takes everything in you not to slap him across the face. “What the fuck,” you hiss, stepping closer, your fists clenched at your sides, “makes you think you’ve got the right to ask me that, Joel?” 

He shrugs his shoulders, but his expression remains cold. “Lookin’ out for you. Your dad’d kill me if I didn’t.” You laugh bitterly. “Bullshit.” His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond. Silence fanning the flames within you. “You aren’t my dad,” you snap, voice trembling with rage. “And you sure as hell don’t get to tell me who I can or can’t fuck.” Joel’s eyes narrow, his shoulders stiffening as he steps even closer. “That’s not what I—” “Save it,” you cut him off, word sharp as a whip. “I don’t know why you think I’m so weak or clueless all the time. Like I can’t handle myself. Like I’m some kid you’ve gotta babysit.” 

Joel’s expression hardens, his dark eyes flash with something that looks like hurt beneath his anger. “That’s what you think I see?” his words come out like a dangerous growl. “That’s how you’ve acted toward me since day one,” you fire back, stepping toe-to-toe with him. “If you don’t respect me, Joel, just stay out of my business.” His chest rises and falls sharply, his breath warm against your skin as the air between you thickens. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about,” he grits, voice tight with frustration. “Explain it to me then,” you challenge. Shaking with the force of everything you’ve been holding back. “Or stay away from me if I’m such a thorn in your side.” He works his jaw, and for a moment you’re glued to the corded muscle in his neck and the exposed golden brown skin of his chest. He glares at you, making no move to back off. His voice drops sinfully low and quiet. “You really wanna know?” “Yeah,” you breathe, heart pounding like it’s trying to break through your ribcage. “I do.” His hand moves fast, gripping your wrist—not rough, but firm enough to make your breath catch. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he accuses in a rough and uneven voice. You blink. “What?” “You heard me,” he rumbles, dark eyes locked on yours. “From the first day, you showed up here, lookin’ at me like you had somethin’ to prove.” Anger burns in your veins. “How does that make me your problem?” His grip tightens, his body presses closer. “You ain’t my problem,” he mutters. Guilt twists into his words, “Shouldn’t even be lookin’ at you like this. S’wrong.” He swallows thickly, only sharpening the edge in his voice. “But I can’t stop thinkin’ about you, and it’s pissin’ me off.” His confession hits you like a brick over the head. The trailer is silent, but the sound of the blood rushing in your ears, and your ragged exhale seems deafening. 

“Then stop,” you challenge, voice trembling with defiance. “If it’s so wrong, just leave me alone.” Joel’s eyes darken, his other hand settles on your hip, fingers digging into you. “Can’t,” he says,  voice so thick with frustration, it sounds like it hurts. “Don’t think I want to.” 

Silence stretches and time feels thick and warped. Your ragged breaths fill the space. His eyes search for a reason to stop, but he finds none. 

You don’t get a chance to reply before he drops your wrist to wrap a large hand around your jaw, pulling you into a feverish kiss. Nothing gentle about it. It’s raw and desperate, equal parts frustration and hunger. Your fingers curl into his shirt as if you could pull him any closer as your teeth scrape over his bottom lip, in a sharp, biting challenge that makes him groan low in his throat. He angles your face so he can kiss you deeper, harder, until your knees feel like they might give out. Your mind goes blank, flashing white with anger and need. All you can process is the hot slip of his tongue against yours and the sharp bristle of his facial hair against your tender lips. Your back hits the cool metal wall of the trailer before you realize your feet had even moved. Joel’s hips press into yours, pinning you against his body–solid and unrelenting. His lips trail down your jaw to your neck, the edge of his teeth scraping at your skin. The rasp of his stubble sends sparks to your core, and you dig your fingers into the hair on the back of his head. Pulling him toward you, needing him in a way that verges on painful. He lifts his mouth, breathing hotly against your damp neck. “This what you want?” he says, his tone matching the burning desperation coursing through you. “You want me to fuck it outta you? Til you can’t keep runnin’ your mouth at me?” “Shut up,” you snap, but the way your body arches into him betrays the hostility in your voice and the subtle stretch makes you keenly aware of how wet and needy you are already. He makes a low, guttural noise in his throat that makes your cunt throb. His hand slides down to grip your thigh, hitching it around his waist as he grinds into you. The hard ridge of his cock pressing into you makes you gasp. The sound you make sends heat ripping through him like wildfire. We can’t, he thinks, but the words die on his tongue. The thought of how wrong this is flashes in his mind, but it’s drowned out by the way you’re looking at him. The way your nails dig into his shoulders as you pull him closer, your breath hot and shaky against his cheek. He can’t think. He can’t stop. He doesn’t want to. Not when you’re so soft and warm and furious beneath him. He’s helpless. His hand slips under your shirt, rough fingers brushing over soft skin, leaving a searing trail that grounds you as your mind spins. He pushes your shirt up, baring you to the dim light of the trailer. Time slips back into the warped, syrupy dimension as you absorb the unbidden lust and awe in his eyes. You’re the one exposed, but you feel like you’re seeing something just as naked in his face. Time catches up and you pull your shirt the rest of the way over your head, committing to sin wordlessly. You shiver at the sudden contrast between the heat radiating off of his body and the cool air hitting your flesh. “Joel,” you gasp, your head tipping back as his mouth closes over your nipple like a wet furnace. His teeth graze the sensitive skin causing you to spew breathy curses over the top of his head. They only spur him on. He sucks hard enough that you tug him off you by his hair, but he only switches to your breast, delivering the same delicious punishment as his fingers roll and pinch at the wet, puffy, flesh he abandons. 

It’s like he can predict your needs before your mind can, biting down harshly enough to pull you away from the angry, hissing thoughts and keep you desperate to stay lost in the physical sensations. He palms the full weight of your tits, gliding his thumbs over both, slick and shining with his saliva. He presses them together before releasing them. “Goddamn,” he murmurs, taken by the way they bounce more perfectly than he could’ve imagined. It’s wrong to have you topless and panting beneath him, but his name falls so sweetly from your lips that it doesn’t matter. The heavy-lidded look you have makes him feel confirmed. When you moan lowly as the pain melts into pleasure when he kneads your soft, slippery skin, his cock aches and weeps for you. He needs more. He needs everything. Needs to wreck you, to see you so fucked out the only thing you can say is his name. 

It’s an exquisite brand of torture. 

You hate how good this feels, how badly you want him to keep going. To show you every move he knows. To break you down with his hands and mouth. You should push him away, tell him to fuck off. But your body doesn’t want that. You don’t want that. You roll your hips against his, begging wordlessly for more, as you tug at his hair hard enough to pull a throaty groan from deep within him. The sound he makes nearly has you short-circuiting, but he doesn’t give you the respite to fall apart. His hands are everywhere, frenzied like he’s losing control. Hasn’t he already lost it? You wonder distantly. Slowly, you realize he’s littering dirty little threats and filthy promises into your warm flesh. You hate the way his words make you shiver, how much you crave every pledge he makes. “You’re gonna feel me for days, sweetheart,” he husks hotly, just behind your ear. It’s a commitment you unwittingly pray he keeps. Some part buried deep within you blooms at the idea of feeling every memory of his touch as you go about your day tomorrow. “Get to it then,” you snap, hands reaching for his belt with urgency. Joel doesn’t need any more encouragement. His hand slips between your legs, teasing you through the soaked fabric of your underwear, and the sound you make at the pressure—the breathless, needy, whimper—makes him forget how to breathe. All he knows is that he needs to hear it again while he fucks into your soft, warm cunt. 

He wrenches your jeans open and works them down your thighs as you tear at his shirt buttons. He’s barely able to let you go long enough to pull his shirt off; watching you kick your pants off the rest of the way makes him nearly trip over himself. 

The air between your naked chests is sticky and warm. He dips his hand beneath the hem of your underwear, fingertips gliding over the soft hair on your mound making his eyes roll back. 

The edges of your vision blurs when he prods two big fingers between your slick lips, but you’re glued to the way his dark eyes are nearly black now. He looks every bit possessed by a beast, and fuck if you aren’t driven by the sick desire to make him snap. 

“You like having me touch you like this, don’t you?” His voice drips with need underscored by the slick sounds coming from between your legs. 

“No.” You rasp, as you grind your clit against his palm. He pumps two fingers inside of you, curling them just right to make you moan. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he drawls, thick like honey. You grip the muscle flexing in his arm to steady yourself. His concentration and competence makes your walls flutter around his fingers. 

“You’re gonna come for me, right here.” He declares. 

You shake your head. “I’m not—fuck—I won’t.” 

“You will,” he interrupts. Dark and calm. His pace quickens, fingers focused on the spot inside you that makes you a mindless wreck. His thumb draws circles around your clit. 

“Can feel how close you are.” Your hips rock and your muscles all pull taut. “If you’d quit fuckin’ fighting me.” He somehow crowds even closer to you. You feel like you’re about to snap when he pulls his hand away, leaving you feeling empty and ragged. “But you’re too fuckin’ stubborn, ain’t you?” 

“Joel,” you whine, angry and devastated. “I hate you.” 

You grip the back of his neck with one hand, and both of you watch as he finally takes himself out of his jeans. 

The view makes you salivate. 

Everything about Joel is rugged and masculine. The muscles carved into his arms and chest. The trail of dark hair leading down his stomach that thickens around his base. The deep flushed color of his thick cock. The ragged inhale he makes when he presses the blunt tip against the drenched fabric that clings to your swollen folds. 

“Say it,” he growls, rubbing along your barely clothed seam. 

“I hate you,” you whisper unconvincingly, digging your nails into the back of his neck and arching off of the wall. 

“Tell me you want it.” You can’t tell if it’s a demand or a plea. This strain in his voice and the muscles tensing across his broad frame make you tremble.

“I don’t.” You lie. You snake one hand down your body, peeling your ruined panties to the side so he can slot his tip at your dripping entrance. You tilt forward, impatiently, stretching around him just enough to override your filter. 

“Oh, fuck,” you start. Unable to stop the stream of whispered curses from rolling off your tongue. 

“Yeah,” Joel rasps, inching deeper inside of your tight, warm walls. He feeds himself into you slowly, the overwhelming fullness as you adjust makes your thighs shake. He pulls out and you whine, unable to say a word before he’s moving, dipping you onto the thin trailer mattress and slipping your underwear down your legs. 

“Gonna fuck you full,” he mutters. You spread your legs, making room for him to settle above you. He draws his cock back through your lips, coating himself in your arousal before driving into you with a powerful stroke. 

Your lips part, sucking in air as he sets a pace. He fills you deeper than you’ve ever felt, relentlessly making room for himself as he saws in and out of you. It’s powerful and primal, but refined by his athleticism. Fluid rolling hips and his strong core make you see stars as he fucks into you.

“That’s right,” he rasps above you, and you realize he’s responding to you. 

“So good,” you’re murmuring, “so full.” 

“Taking it like you were made for it,” he says to himself. The intensity of your tight, warm pussy coaxing him deeper makes him spill his thoughts. Unfiltered. 

He sets a pace, slow and deliberate at first, each stroke filling you completely before pulling back, leaving you desperate for more. The friction is maddening, plunging his length into your sensitive walls as he pins you beneath his hard body.   

“You feel that?” His breath is hot against your neck. “Feel how deep I am? How I’m splittin’ you open?”  

You nod frantically, your nails digging into his shoulders as you whimper his name.  

Joel’s control falters at the sound of it, his hips snapping harder, faster, as his desperation takes over. “Thought about this,” he rasps, his voice hoarse. “Fuckin’ hell, I’ve thought about this too damn much. But you’re better than I ever imagined.”  

His confession sends a jolt through you, but you’re too far gone to process it, your body tightening around him as pleasure builds again, sharper and hotter than before.  

“Joel, please.”  

“Fuck,” he chokes the word out, his pace faltering for a split second before he slams into you harder, deeper. “Say that again.”  

“Please,” you whisper, your voice breaking as your release breaks through you, leaving you gasping and cursing.  

Joel’s hips snap erratically, pinning you into the mattress with a tight grip, as he buries his cock as deep as he can inside of you. 

“Gonna fill you up,” he mutters, his voice ragged. “Every drop, sweetheart.” Make you mine, he barely keeps the last thought in his head. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” You chant as your body jolts with each collision with his. 

“Fuck,” Joel mutters, cock driving deeper and swelling at your words. “That’s it. Take it all, sweetheart.”  

Your release hits again, your body trembling violently. Or maybe it never stopped—he only drew it out of you in waves. 

Joel curses low, his hips slamming into yours one last time before you feel him pulsing inside of you, hot and thick. 

When he pulls back, his eyes linger on the mess between your thighs. “Look at that,” he mutters, his voice low and reverent. His wide hands slide up the back of your thighs, bending your knees to your chest so he can watch the mix of your releases glistening and dripping from you. 

He takes one hand and drags it through the mess, pushing it back up inside of you. You squirm, sensitive to the touch, but fixated on whatever is burning behind his eyes. 

You wait for him to say something characteristically Joel.

To dismiss you as naive, to rub it in that he broke you down. That he had you crying his name. That you shouldn’t have done that. 

But it never comes.

You’re convinced he was trying to put you in your place. To give you another reminder that he thinks you’re useless and clueless. You’re too wrapped up in the thoughts to speak or move. 

He doesn’t say anything at all which nearly makes it worse.

Instead, he pins you under a heavy arm, holding you against him until you both doze off. Succumbing to exhaustion.

-> PART TWO

dividers by @/saradika-graphics 🤠🤎

tagging the usual babes in case you want some cowboy!joel for christmas too:

@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange @itwasntimethatdidit40 @ivoryandflame @magneticecstasy

@indiegirlunited @syd-djarin @harriedandharassed @bbyanarchist

@94namkooksworld

[twink-fuery]

Why is nobody talking about the fact Sonon or whatever his name was, Yuffie's battle partner in dlc, looks like Zack with his hair cut off....He isn't voiced by him in japanese, but feel like it's not to spoil the reveal...

He does look a bit like Zack but I highly doubt he has any relation to him,,, Zack's already shown up for some reason (probably as a cliff hanger idk) and i highly doubt Sonon is Shinra or SOLDIER

I think it's very interesting that they added him though! I wonder what his gameplay will be like,,, i can't wait to find out what his relationship with Yuffie is like 👀