#because i was never going to open myself to love but did it anyway

[writella]

Here He Is, Finally

Synopsis: “When’s it gonna be my turn? Open me up, tell me you like it, fuck me to death, love me until I love myself—” This is a story about the inner struggles of a desiring Daryl who just wants to be free of the perceptions the town, and his own mind, have put on him, so he can love you and love himself, in the ways he’s always wanted to.

—or: As Daryl becomes the talk of the town, insecurity sets in that hinders him from having sex with you— the thing you most want to do.

Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader, ambiguous age gap, mixing early seasons’ + later seasons’ personality of Daryl, the town being mean but also thinking Daryl’s hot because he is, discussions of gossiping, insecurity, and poor self-image, Daryl fights someone :), and smut— unprotected + he’s nervous but then it gets good, and it’s their/Daryl’s/your first time in whatever way you want it to be.

A/N: He’s literally me (I’m a girl).

— With love from writella. ♡

There it was. You finally said it. You told Daryl that you were ready to have sex.

When you told him, the two of you were having a quiet morning and he was about to leave. Pulling yourself up to his height, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he took you by the waist, one hand reached up to hold your head, rubbing his thumb there. Good, you had thought, he’s reciprocating. That let you know he was okay, but still, underneath, you knew he was embarrassed about last night. You weren’t going to bring it up though, not then. You wanted to move forward, to show him that you didn’t care. “Daryl,” you started, words slow, uneasy in voice but sure in intention, as you whispered to him from above his shoulder, “I just wanted to tell you– that– I feel like I’m ready.” You paused for a moment. “And whatever you feel, I’m okay with it. Just talk to me.” As silence ensued, you kissed him on the cheek, “I love you,” you said, and pulled back.

Daryl kept his hands in yours as he looked at you. His features were sad and soft as much as they were unreadable. He kissed you on the forehead. “I love you too,” he said– it wasn’t the first time you two had exchanged those words– and then he left. Just like that.

You had no expectation for how he would react. You only knew he wouldn’t give you a flat-out no, so this, was understandable. But still, there was something hollow about it, even if his kiss and words were tender. It was another relationship moment that reminded you that these things never happen as they do in fairytale romances.

You see, you had always pictured him or whoever you were with at the time, bringing you close, kissing you, their fingers trailing down and under the hem of your skirt or pants, asking you if you were ready, if you were sure, if you wanted them to go slow, slower, but Daryl— as it turns—was incredibly pure, or at least pretending to be. Either too nervous or sensitive about these things, possibly inexperienced, or much more innocent with his intentions than you ever expected. It’s like you knew Daryl like the back of your hand, but when it came to anything about you as a couple, his history, who he’s dated before– you were clueless. You didn’t know what it could be.

One thing you did suspect, although Daryl has never told you, is that he thought of you as precious, something to be delicate with, like a flower. Sometimes you’d tell him he didn’t have to be so slow or soft when you were kissing– he was always a little sloppy anyway– and whenever there was a task to get done you’d be the first to tell anyone you could do it yourself, he knew this about you. And it’s not like he babies you or anything, that was never his way. Like when you two were fighting walkers, or doing work around the communities, or when he’s teaching you how to do something. You’ve even told him that he could be a bit demanding sometimes, grouchy, rough, and he agreed– that was true. He didn’t do it on purpose, the whole being hard on you thing. But alone? When he was on top of you or you over him? Waking up to you? Feeling your hand reach for his own in the dark? Even just eating dinner with you? The guy was a mess! A little boy, even. Heart racing. Eyes averted at times.

Whenever he nipped you, on the lips, or the neck, maybe he pushed you on the bed too hard, grabbed your waist too tight that it squeezed the bone, there were always silent apologizes of gentle circles, sweet kisses, and tongue licks to soothe the pain or possible bruises he left on you. And sometimes, when you’re home alone or you shower together, and he starts to kiss you or pull you in by the waist, he almost always sets out with the intention that this time he’d finally do it— the sex thing— he always wanted to. Only if you knew! Honestly, he’d feel like such a pervert if he let you know how many times, both before and after you got together, that he’s thought of being inside you, or you on your knees for him, or him kissing up your thighs and tasting you– he genuinely thinks he’d really like it, all of it, but especially that. But every time you’ve kissed and kissed enough, he’d get too overwhelmed about how to proceed or too nervous to even try. He tells you that you two should shower or go to bed or that he has to go for whatever reason. So all you’ve done is grind on each other, a lot, but that’s about it. You know he’s gotten hard and you’ve gotten wet, but you’re not sure if he’s ever noticed. He wants to put his hands in your pants, he wants to rip your blouse, he wants to squeeze your tits and slap your ass, but every time he thinks about actually doing it, he feels it's too forward or raunchy, or maybe it's not actually like him in the way he’s pictured in his head, or maybe you’d hate it, and specifically the way he did it. And he has thought about doing it slowly, romantically, but every time he thinks about doing that, he feels stupid, thinking he’ll come off as clumsy and pathetic to you. He doesn’t exactly get the concept of slow and sexy yet— reaching up, breathing you in, letting his fingers linger, or hands caress and massage. It’s not that he couldn’t do it though, or so he thinks, if he really tries; it's that doesn’t even think he’s sexy to begin with.

The only thing Daryl knows for sure are the things people call him when they think he’s not listening.

“Deep and… grunty,” one much too young girl said to her equally young friend who giggled, indicating her agreement even if she was too afraid to verbalize it. “I just like his voice,” the first girl said, “it’s sexy.” Or, “Wild,” as one of Aaron’s friends whispered to him, “Like he could throw me around, do it in front of the whole town, and wouldn’t care who saw.” To which Aaron scoffed and replied, “That’s literally my fucking friend.” But in truth, it’s not like he hadn’t thought about it himself, how Daryl looked underneath his vest and button-downs– it was just once though!– he promises!– as if he needed to explain it to himself. He even told his husband about it; they had agreed on Daryl’s attractiveness. Eric called it “rugged,” and they laughed about it over dinner. Now, Aaron would repeat that word as he overheard another group of ladies discussing ways to describe or trademark some of the male leaders in town. As Aaron passed by, “rugged,” was his suggested alternative to the word “beast” when one older lady described Daryl, in a way that would make anyone not a part of the conversation cringe, “Beast, sexy armed beast.” But Aaron was only met with silence and weird hums until a girl replied that “sexy armed rugged,” doesn’t make any sense. To that, all the ladies agreed. As Aaron walked away, wanting nothing more with this kind of conversation about his friends, he caught the new suggestion: “Daddy,” a girl had said with the widest smile on her face— she wasn’t a teenager, but it was obviously her first time being vocal about these things. She must have felt she said something so salacious. And as much as Aaron wanted to gag, there was also a part of him that reluctantly stopped himself from laughing and blushing with the rest of the woman. One of them rolled her eyes saying, “They can’t all be daddy,” to which another girl said, “But they kind of are!” and then he was too far away to hear anymore.

Daryl didn’t get any of it.

The only ones that truly bothered him though were when they added, “I know he’s a little ugly but,” or “I know he’s not my type but,” or “I know he looks a little dirty but,” “And he never does his hair but,” “And he’s not like the smartest but,” but, but, but—

It all made him feel bad about himself; more confused.

Even when it was just generally flattering, he found it hard to take any of it as a compliment. Sometimes he would, maybe the whispers of him being “kinda hot,” on the days when he’d return to his cut-off sleeved shirts, or maybe those moments when a lady would be talking to her friend saying how he’s “handsome,” or how she just knows “he’s packing–big–” and what’s better than a big dick, right? At least that is what Daryl thought– it's the bit of Merle in him– and he bets Negan wished he had one— Daryl was pretty sure Negan’s is a tiny little bitch just like his personality. No one gets to kill one of his best friends and gets more than a three-incher. Right, J.C.? If you’re even up there? Not that Daryl would mind if you were or weren’t, or cares if you did, he wouldn’t mind– Daryl didn’t think about religion that much anymore. And on that note, he realizes that he doesn’t do a lot of the same things he used to anymore. Like the way he would walk around without a care, even confidently sometimes, not thinking about how much he swung his arms or the way he talked or the way his hair fell that day. There was this one time, as he was walking over to Rick in the garden, telling him he couldn’t find whatever particular tools Rick wanted, he yelled, “They ain’t there no more, Rick!” that he heard some older guy say to his friend that Daryl sounded like a “human gremlin,” to which the friend tried to one-up him by saying, “more like a garbage disposal.” Then another day, some girl said he looks like a “wet rat sometimes,” especially when his hair is flat or, as said in the phrase, wet; and he never forgot it, either of them or anything anyone has ever said about him. It’s always been like this. Even when he was a kid.

Daryl tries to remember that people have just gotten too comfortable now that Alexandria is back on track, at least that’s basically what you had said. One day, Daryl came into your room, huffing and throwing himself on your desk chair, saying, “Some people don’t know how to keep their mouths shut.” To which you had asked him what was wrong, but he shook his head.

“Well,” you begin, responding to his un-answer, “some gossip is misogynized. It used to be a way for women to spread information, but–” you avoid the lecture— “I get what you mean.” You look at him, seeing the way his eyes still drift. “I can’t tell you everything, but Rosita and I had heard some people speculate on the whole her and Saddiq and Gabriel thing.” You shook your head, your eyes rolling a little, “It made her upset. I could tell. But it took her a while to talk about it. I think some people forget they can talk behind closed doors now. Our porches aren’t as private as they used to be, and people have gotten mean.” To that, you both nodded in agreement and then you climbed toward the edge of your bed to hold his hand. Something was obviously wrong. “Has anyone said anything about you?”

Again, he shakes his head and you have to leave it at that— all he wanted to do was ask questions about you now, and he wouldn’t let you change the subject.

But at home, alone, he stares at the mirror, trying to see what other people see: handsome, rugged, possibly wild… but all he saw were things he didn’t l understand, things that made him feel he wasn’t good enough. Did they really think he was attractive? And if so, why did they always have to bring up that there was something completely unattractive about him before the compliment? And why were those remarks always easier to believe? Or was it all just some weird fantasy they felt dirty about having? And was being rude behind his back was some sort of justification for it? Was it all of them above? Most importantly, did you think any of this?

Next Saturday, a week after you told him you were ready, the town gathered in the church during the evening for the monthly communal meal. This was something that started during the rehabilitation of Alexandria, another thing that the population was getting too big to contain, but Rick and Judith liked it. So, Michonne agreed to keep it— for now— despite reasoning that “this is what holidays are for, Rick.”

It was about an hour in, 6pm and sunset now past. Some people who had been busy working were still filing in, little by little, but for the most part, a majority of citizens were seated, eating, and chatting. There was a steady rain outside that made everything smell fresh, and if it wasn’t for all the chatter, you could even possibly hear the light drumming on the church walls. Everyone was quite pleased about it, spring seemed to be coming early.

Daryl had not come to see you last night and left early this morning so you didn’t know where he went or what he did, but what you did know for certain is that he never carried an umbrella. Therefore, when he finally arrived, 30 minutes later, his hair was soaked, and since he didn’t even wear his jacket, the long sleeves of his shirt were drenched with water droplets sticking to his vest and shoes that sloshed and left wet footprints on the wooden floor.

Obvious to say, he was noticed by all.

There is a fine line with Daryl between not giving a fuck about how he was perceived, and caring far too much while not willing to do anything about it, and of course, with all that has happened in the past few weeks, it was the ladder. He hated being the center of attention, but it was hard for him to not be noticeable, it never was, especially now. He felt ridiculous.

As he walks onto the stage– where all the tables of food are placed– you follow him.

“Hi,” you say next to him.

“Hi,” he replies, calling you by your nickname kindly enough, but not ever looking at you.

“You know, I think Rick was hoping you were coming back on time. I don’t know why he put all that stuff on his chair if it wasn’t for you or Michonne and Michonne sat with me.”

He simply nods, humming as acknowledgment.

“Daryl,” you move to the other side of the table as he gathers his food so he can look at you. Quietly you say, “We don’t have to talk about it now, but– I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable the other day. Or if it was about the night before, you just have to tell me.” You poke his shoulder, “You’re acting weird and you know it.”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” is all he grumbles.

“But I still want to say I’m sorry if I did.”

Daryl quickly finds some napkins to dry his hands and wrists with and comes over to place them on the sides of your head to kiss you there. “You ain’t got anything to be sorry about. Alright? I’m fine.” His hands drop and holds you by the neck for a moment, the movement makes some water droplets bleed onto your clothes, you feel it but you say nothing. The only thing Daryl notices from you is that your eyes look almost identical to his despite the differing color– his mood is affecting yours, but he doesn’t know what to say right now to make you feel better so he opts for something he always know is true, “You’re perfect. You know that right?” And I’m just fuckin’ weirdo, he wants to add, but he doesn’t.

You were smiling at him. He doesn’t get it. He looked like an idiot all soaking wet and you were smiling at him. There couldn’t be a better reaction, but still, it’s moments like this where he can’t believe you’re real. All you say is “Okay,” never taking a compliment, just like him, instead of finding a way to break-up with him like he always nearly suspects. “Come to me when you finish, alright? We can leave if you want?”

“Alright,” he responds and you leave him be.

As Daryl goes down the rows of tables picking out what he wants, he heads to the last one. The way the event was set up was that everyone who came early had the opportunity to take a seat at one of the four tables that were placed along each corner of the stage and the rest sat in the pews, but despite the higher vantage point the stage gave, that did not mean Daryl couldn’t hear what those around the stage were saying around him— as always. It must be a hunter’s ear or something.

“Be careful,” a woman says smirking, her eyes gesturing to Daryl. “Let’s hope he doesn’t wet us.” The friend in front of her snickers, looking back to see that Daryl is now by the table just above theirs. Whispering, the first woman continues, shaking her head, “I don’t know how Rick or the girl put up with it. She just acted like nothing was wrong. He’s mudding up the whole damn church!”

Daryl keeps his back turned. This ends up being his last straw. “How about you shut the fuck up,” he mutters.

“Excuse me?”

Louder, facing no one in particular he yells, “Why does everyone act like I don’t got ears?”

You look up, synchronized with everyone in the church and get up with Rick who is already slowly approaching him, but Michonne yanks you down.

“What is your problem?”

To that, he turns back to the woman, “How ‘bout you say what you said again and stop talking shit under your breath.”

“What?”

“I said,” he starts yelling again, “if you got somethin’ to say about me lady, say it to ma’ face. That’s what I said.”

“Hey, what’s goin’ on?” Rick asks almost warningly, but not before someone yells, “Who the fuck are you talking to, man?” from one of the aisles in the back. It was her husband, now standing from his seat. He and his wife make eye contact, and instantly he’s moving closer.

Daryl walks to the edge of the front stage, barking a quick “move” without any pause and Eugene and Siddiq violently bob their heads and grab their plates as Daryl steps on the table and jumps to the floor.

Rick tries to push him back but it’s no use, Daryl pushes him in return and he and the husband are charging at each other, speaking over each other: “What did you say to my wife?” “Told her to shut the fuck up. Thought I said it loud enough–” “Nah, man you were mumblin’ like always–” “Or d’you need me to say it louder with ma garbage disposal mouth?” Daryl pushes him, “Huh?” “I’m not fighting you, man.” But Daryl persists, getting in the man’s face, their noses almost touching. He whispers, “You know, maybe your wife’s got everyone’s name in her mouth because she don’t fuckin’ like you.” The man keeps shaking his head, but Daryl surprises him, he isn’t the only one the town gossips about. “She’s fucking Mark,” he tells him. That was true, and people knew it. “He’s your friend, ain’t he? Maybe that’s why she’s always–” But no, not him, her husband did not know, so he punches, straight in the eye. Daryl almost smiles as he takes the next swing.

The two are tussling, but not for long as Rick takes the chance to get Daryl from behind, taking him away with Gabriel’s help. “You done?” Rick asks as Gabriel holds him on the other side, His grip honestly does nothing though and Daryl shrugs him off. Poor Gabe looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm to see the church– practically his church– in such disarray.

With that, and with Daryl raging too much to contain, he shrugs Rick off and stomps out.

Michonne finally takes her hand off of your wrist and you make you way to leave too. As you walk, you look back to Rick who is already trying to follow, and wordlessly tell him that it’s your turn now, then, turn to awkwardly dodge the people still standing in the aisle and collect your things to go.

Daryl was not hard to find. It almost made you think he wanted to be found or knew you’d go after him— he’s being such a child today. Despite the town lights, you hold out your flashlight to find him sits on a tree stump on the edge of town next to one of his favorite trees. The leaves did a terrible job of covering him from anything but you knew he didn’t care. It was almost laughable honestly. Still, you take pity, he was yours and you were concerned. “I know you don’t care about getting wet,” you say with no malice or disappointment in your voice, “but all that water in your shoes can cause blisters. You didn’t even wear the ones that don’t have holes.”

He just shakes his head, as always, and water droplets fall from the tips of his hair.

“Remember when that happened to me and you drained them with needles even though Saddiq told us not to?”

He stares at you, stone-faced for a moment. “You’re the one who told me to do it.”

“Because they hurt really bad!”

“You were being a baby.”

“Really?” You ask ironically. “So if I’m the baby why are you acting like one right now? It’s been raining since morning, Daryl! Not even a jacket? You’re obviously upset about something but I’m not going to continue this with you in the rain, looking like a sad, wet puppy.”

He sneered at the comment, wet.

“Let’s just go home, okay? Let me take you.”

“We don’t live together.”

You frown. “Don’t be mean, Daryl,” you gently warn. “You know what I mean.”

You hold your hand out for him, water collecting in your palm as you wait. It was more of a gesture than actual help as you two were still a few feet away from each other. “Please? You could have already ran away on your bike or gone home and locked your door but you didn’t. I don’t know what’s going on but don’t act like I don’t know you.”

Reluctantly, he gets up, walking to you in almost slow motion. You wish you could call him the drama queen he is right now, but it was time to get out of this rain– you would hold it in for the time being.

As you enter the small place, you make no conversation. You simply get to work and he doesn’t stop you. You take off your rain jacket and boots, then you take off his vest and boots. You drag him to his room and hang up your sweater and take off your jewelry, then you empty his pant pockets. Finally, you hold his hand as he trails behind you and into the bathroom. You unbutton his shirt and unzip his pants and place them all in the hamper. He takes off his underwear and helps you take off your clothes too. When you’re done, you turn on the water and go in, he follows. You bathe and wash his hair in silence. You are tender and gentle, and he knows it, he appreciates it, but his mind is loud, and angry, and he feels so pathetic as you wash him like he’s 5 years old. You turn around to start washing yourself as he takes care of cleaning his legs and lower area. After he’s done, all he can do is look at you, your body, the soft humming you can’t help but do when you shower. It’s exactly as he said, you’re perfect. He wants to bang his head against the wall because of it.

When you two finish, you sit on his bed, wearing one of his white shirts and a pair of boxers, he wears the same except his bottoms are sweatpants. He hates these kinds of casual clothes actually, he’s only okay with wearing it sometimes, but he has nothing else at the moment. All he had to do was give his clothes to Carol to wash, but he didn’t. He hasn’t really done anything this week.

“Ms. Ellen is a bitch.” You finally say, giving him an ice pack for his eye. “And so is Mr. Gary and they both have the whiteness names in the world. And they’re both lazy as fuck and reek of nepotism because they only had one of the biggest houses and biggest egos in Alexandria because they were friends with Deanna and they’re still bitter that their house being destroyed in the fire— which I get— but it’s not okay that she uses her bitterness to talk shit about everyone. And it’s also not okay that you used your anger to fight someone who didn’t deserve it. That wasn’t like you.”

“Maybe it is. You didn’t always know me.”

“Well, sure, can act like a tough—”

“I don’t act like anything—”

“Fine, I’ll change it: Can you be a tough guy? Yeah. But do you pick fights and make big scenes in front of the kids like that? No, you don’t.” You stare at him, tapping him on the knee and forcing him to look at you. “You not talking is obviously not working, Daryl. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

He takes a moment. “I just—”

“What?”

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” he finally says lowly.

“I don’t think you could,” you answer, “I’m not even now, I’m just frustrated. Or confused really. Why do you think you would?”

He lowers his ice pack, “Cause I’m not fuckin’ Rick.”

You laugh a little. “Well, I did have my suspicions, but great, that’s good to know. I’m glad you’re not fucking Rick.”

He sucks his teeth. “Be serious.”

“Have you not realized I’ve been trying to be? For weeks now? It obviously doesn’t work.” Both of you look down as you continue, “And I finally tell you how I feel and what I want and you just leave and barely talk to me for the rest of the week. And before you even mention coming into my bed at night or saying goodnight or good morning to me and telling me what you’ll do that day, that’s not talking, it's just saying stuff. At some point I can’t always chalk it up to Oh, that’s just Daryl; at some point, a person starts thinking that they're the problem. That I’m the problem! That I’m not good enough.”

A tear falls down your cheek involuntarily, then another; you were clenching your jaw after you finished speaking but it was no use. After everything, all the bullshit and the girls and the punch to his eye that really fucking hurt even though it was his fault he got it, this is actually the worst thing that has happened to Daryl in the past months– making you cry.

“You’re more than good enough,” he says in his mumble, still not looking at you. “I’m just stupid.”

“You’re not stupid!” You yell frustratingly as you wipe tears away. “Stop talking down about yourself!”

Daryl looks off into the window. He wants to speak, he does. The words are all on the tip of his tongue but they cannot come out, they never do. As he watches you wipe away your last tears, he thinks everyone is right, that that guy is right, he has a garbage mouth, his voice is poison. He never makes any sense and he always says the wrong thing. Why speak anyway?

“I can’t help you or at least try to understand if you don’t say anything. I know it's hard— I don’t like doing it either. I was scared to tell you what I did last week. But it just starts with one thing.”

“It's too hard to.”

“But I’ve never judged you, right? ”

He shakes his head. You haven’t.

“The first thing that comes to your mind when I say, ‘what’s wrong?’, what is it? Just say it. I don’t care what it is. I’m not going to judge you, I’m not going to say you’re wrong, anything—”

“People think I’m ugly,” he interrupts, “I’ve heard them say it.”

Your eyes widen, in shock for him and in shock that people could still care about such stupid things right now. “Who said that to you?”

He shakes his head. “That’s why I mentioned Rick. No one says stuff like that about Rick.”

“Well, I don’t want you to be like Rick and you don’t have to be.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?”

He gestures to himself, slapping his hands on his thighs, “Look at me.”

There’s something about the way his hand then reaches to cover his eyes in frustration, the way he slides it down to scratch his beard, accidentally magnifying to you the wisps of salt and pepper among the brown that gives you a clue to what he means. “I’m not some little girl, and I haven’t been for a long time.”

“I know, but you’re not my age either. And I don’t always think about you when it comes to it, it’s about me- I think about me.”

“So what about it? When it comes to the hair on your head and your eyes and the way you talk— that has nothing to do with how old you are, that’s just who you are. You didn’t choose to look as you do. And you and Rick have always looked the same age if I have to mention him, and his beard is whiter than yours at this point. Neither of you look old, or bad.” Your words do nothing so far. “You also have a better build than plenty of people in town. You’re stronger too.”

“But when they talk about Rick, all they say is that he talks too much and that he’s bossy and hardass and at least that’s true.”

You couldn’t help but smile, almost laughing a bit at that. It kind of was true.

“I’ve never heard anyone say things about him the way they say about me. Never anything about how he looks. But when they talk about me— they think I’m a fuckin’ animal.” There is silence after this. The word wild lingers in his mind and animal in yours. Again you want to ask, who could say that and have they not realized all Daryl has done for this place? Then, the more you listen, the more you realize that hidden beneath those with endless respect are some with hearts of cruelty and minds stuck in the regular old world ways that don’t exist anymore. “And sometimes, when I think about why you like me, I think that maybe it’s despite other things.”

“Despite?”

“Despite.” He practically spits.

“We all have bad qualities though. We’re not perfect.”

“I mean that I’m not some regular good looking guy.”

“Why would I want regular?” Your smile fades as his sad eyes persist. “Daryl, I can’t change your mind or make you feel the way I do about you, but why can’t you trust that I like you, and that I want to be around you? And that I’m,” you blush, “very attracted to you and I’ve felt like an embarrassing teenage girl the past few months waiting and trying to get you to have sex with me!” Quietly you say, “Have you not realized how much I really want you? How much I care? Everyday I feel lucky.”

He can’t take it. “Guess it’s like you said— can’t believe it if I don’t see it myself.”

His mouth is screwed shut, his throat tight, but just like you, it’s no use, a tear rolls down his cheek. Immediately you hug him. He holds you tightly in return and even though it makes your ribs hurt a little, you let him. All of this makes you see how much you two are alike than you’ve ever realized.

“You know,” you say into his hair, “there was this one time, I was up super early and couldn’t go back to sleep so I went out for a walk. I passed by Olivia’s house and she waved me over from her window and asked me if I could help her restock the pantry before Rick came later in the day to check it because she had this huge migraine. Well, that turned into me doing the whole thing for her. She said she was going inside for a break and some water and the next thing I know she’s asleep on her couch! And you know how her niece lives with her? I guess she runs in the morning and while I was finishing up, her and her friend lean up against one of the garage doors and I hear them talking. I was just about to open the door to leave but then she says, ‘She’s sweet but kind of a kiss-ass, right? Like a try-hard?’ And then her friend goes, ‘Yeah, she really wants to be one of them,’ ‘But all she is, is just Daryl’s little girlfriend.’” Daryl lets go to face you, his eyes incredulous just as yours were when he said someone called him ugly. “And then they started saying how I insert myself into places or something, so thought if I came out right then and they see me having done Olivia’s job for her… I didn't want them to get an up-close look of them being right. So I waited until they went in the house and then I left and for the whole rest of the week I was upset because I thought I was becoming friends with those girls but really I wasn’t, and I questioned if Rick and Michonne or Rosita or Glenn and Maggie even thought of me as a friend because they actually like me or if I’m even good enough to be one or if it’s only because I’m associated to you that they care to talk to me. I felt pathetic too.” You pause. “So, I’m really sorry, Daryl. You don’t deserve to feel like you’re being picked on in the town you live in— in the place you helped create.”

“It ain’t your fault.”

“That doesn’t make a difference. I should have said something.”

“You didn’t have to. I wanted that to happen.”

“But I wish I knew. Cause I would have if I knew. I feel like I let Michonne stop me because I didn’t understand. And all I’m saying is whether I've had it as bad as you or not, I do get it. And I’m angry for you. And you don’t have to be embarrassed to tell me things like this. It was dumb of me to keep my feelings in, just like you do with everything.”

Daryl swipes his hair to the side, parts of it are dry and waving while other areas are still wet, making him think about the rat joke. “No one likes you because of me,” he says. “You’re likable because you’re you and you care. And fuck those dumb-ass girls. They’re idiots for saying that.” He rubs your thigh. “I didn’t say anything the other day because when we were in the shower the night before I,” God, he feels stupid, “I got hard and you saw it and I realized it was the first time you saw it like that before and, I don’t know, I got scared.”

“Did you think that I’d think you’re ugly?”

“I don’t know.”

“Daryl,” you tisk, “after the amount of times we’ve showered together already?”

He gets defensive, “I don’t know! Felt different.”

“People usually get excited to know their partner is excited because of them.”

“I just feel like you’re gonna be disappointed.”

“Why do you always think that? I don’t have any expectations. I just want you to show me you love me.” You begin to look nervous, “I want to feel wanted too.”

“But I do… I do want you.”

“Then show me.”

“I don’t know how.”

You try to think, “Daryl— what is it that you picture when- when you want to do it?”

“I picture you,” he says simply.

“You do?” Your face is immediately warm.

He laughs, “Of course I do.”

“Well what do I do? Or what do you do to me?”

“Depends.”

“Pick one,” you say, almost desperately.

“Sometimes it just starts with what we always do. Kissin’. Maybe you’re on top of me.”

You waste no time; you get on top of him.

“And I press you down.” Daryl’s hands are now heavy on your hips, your hands are on his chest, you rock into him slowly.

“And sometimes I think about you bouncing on me or-” he pauses, the way you rock and the way he pushes up to you hitting a perfect spot of friction that makes the both of you gasp.

“Say it,” you tell him.

“I’m fucking you from behind. Or you're on the bottom and I’m going hard or being all gentle and shit like you but I don’t know how.”

“You know we can do all that, right?”

Daryl is red. Both you and him are surprised at yourself, but his bashfulness almost brings it out of you naturally. And honestly, your jacked and grumpy dilf boyfriend has left you repressed for far too long— you’re horny.

Suddenly, you move yourself onto one of his thighs and start palming his bulge as you rock. “Do I do this in your dreams?”

He almost groans, “Now you do.”

You move yourself from his thigh and lay down to start kissing him. He reciprocates, grabbing your face and pulling you close. Daryl starts nipping at your neck and you try your hardest not to yelp so he won’t stop. As you two continue, your slick starts to wet his boxers and you press your legs together as he gets harder under his sweatpants.

“Have you ever noticed how wet I get when we kiss?”

“Only at night,” it’s hard for his words to come out as you continue palming him, “when you don’t have clothes on.”

“And you never did anything about it?” You whine. “Do you know how bad I need you? How much I think about you?”

“I think about you more.”

“You do?

“Yes.” Daryl swallows, whimpering a little. You now stroke him, his dick riding up against his thigh, and it feels too good. “What- What do I do in your dreams?”

“You lay me on the bed and put your dick in me and fuck me and it feels amazing,” you say between hot breaths. “And you’re not scared to do it.”

“I wanna do it.”

“So, please, Daryl, do it. I want it so bad.”

Daryl uses your words as courage. He takes you off of him and goes over you.

You both take off your shirts and he strips you from his boxers and him from his sweatpants.

Finally, without regret or without him turning away you see his cock stand. It’s proud, meaty, and you can’t lie, a little scary, but you’ll never tell him, even if your widening eyes give you away. It’ll fit, you assure yourself. You won’t be afraid.

“You okay?” He asks, timidity setting in again.

But you nod assuredly. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

You pout, he’s stalling. “When you look at me, what do you see?”

“Beautiful.”

“And you're handsome. No pretenses. No exceptions.” You come up on your knees to face him, kissing his lips softly. “It’s like we said, we’ve dreamed about this.”

You lay down again, and Daryl places his hands on your inner thighs to spread them, making space for himself. You watch as takes hold of himself, mouth agape and pumping himself a few times as he stares at your body before slowly entering you. Your pussy is drooling at the sight.

Your eyes instantly close and scrunch. Although it worries Daryl, he’s glad you’ve shut them so he can continue looking up and down— up at your face to see if you’re in pain and down as he watches his cock enter you for the first time. You were incredibly tight to him, tighter than he ever imagined, he wasn’t used to this feeling and he liked it, a lot. It made his stomach clench and all his muscles flex as his breathing gets heavier, trying to stop the possibility of him moaning at the sight of it all.

“Are you okay?”

It was big and there was something about it that felt good but it hurt, the stretch indescribable, but you nod and tell him, “I like it,” because that was true, and everything else felt like too much to explain right now, your thoughts almost dissipating.

“You sure?”

You just nod again, whining.

“Alright,” he says, putting his hands on the bed to start.

Once more your eyes screw shut. He almost takes himself out before he pushes back into you again. He doesn’t know if he went slow enough but he tried. Your eyes wrinkling because of how hard you closed them doesn’t help though. He wants to tell you to relax but he’s not even relaxed himself to even make it sound believable.

He tries again, not going so far out this time and slowly goes back in to the hilt again, so slowly in fact he thinks that must have been awkward for you. He stops, tries one more time, then stops again. Your sounds seem like you’re hurt. He knows you’ll say it’s just pain and adjustment to his size but he instantly perceives it as disgust. He knows it’s not, but he can’t help it, he can’t. He must be ‘too much’; ‘too big,’ that’s what it is. Those are things he has heard in porn tapes Merle used to give him or things he noticed in porno mags he maybe used to read that he had found in a store near Hershel’s farm all those years ago, and supposedly it was a good thing for it to be too much, but now, look at you: you were in pain. And it was taking everything in him not to ram into you. He felt pathetic, again. Stupid, again. Like he didn’t know what he was doing. Maybe he should just withdraw right now, clean you up, try to give you a sympathetic look through his hair that said he was sorry for defiling you and not even make you feel an ounce of pleasure in the process. Everyone was right, he is a joke.

“Daryl,” you say, looking up at him, “you don’t have to keep stopping for me. I just need to relax and you just need to be slow. I think I can take it.”

“I know,” he responds, kissing your forehead.

“Close your eyes,” you tell him. “Do what feels right to you. You have to trust me to tell you if it hurts or not.”

He almost laughs at that. You think he’s so strong; that he has all the power. It’s so strange to him.

Daryl puts his head in the crux of your neck, closes his eyes, and tries again. He holds your waist, thumb on your ribs and the other fingers on your back as he pushes his hips into you.

You hug his chest and feel all of it. “Make yourself feel good Daryl, it’s gonna feel so good to me if you do that, I promise.” After his 4th small pump you let out a whiny moan of relief. “Oh- okay- keep going.”

Daryl moves his elbows to the bed by your head and starts pushing his hips against you, finding a rough yet steady rhythm. He loves the slapping sound your bodies are making and can’t help but speed up. He goes deeper and you start moaning. He already feels he’s losing himself. He tries to kiss you to slow down, but realizes he can’t plow into you the same way he just found out he likes. He goes back to it and he starts grunting and groaning— there is a part of him that is embarrassed by it but it just feels so good. “Are you gonna come?” He asks between sharp thrusts.

“Don’t focus on that,” you tell him. “Stay like this. Please.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, he really can’t think of anything anymore than continuing to pump himself in you so he does. You try your best to rock up into him, but he has full control, his hands on your hips still as tight as ever as he pushes into you, making you and the bed bounce at his mercy.

You’re more than fine with it all. Even better, you couldn’t believe this meant that Daryl was about to come inside you. Something in you knew it was about to happen. It was the way he placed his elbows by your head and started cursing and ramming into you harder and even whimpered in your ear and gave you these little puppy kisses there before getting back to it. You were surprised by how noisy he was but you didn’t dare say a word other than panting and whining back into him so he’d continue, even in moments when it felt too much and too hard. He was forgetting all his doubts and that was the goal right now. You lock your legs around his hips and tell him, “You feel amazing inside me. My handsome man,” and that does it, “Oh, fuck,” he says as he releases every last drop of himself inside you.

Now, as he slows down, he looks at you, thumb on your bottom lip and chin as he tries his best to keep rolling his hips on you as he comes down from his high, but you ask, “Will you kiss me down there, Daryl? I’ve always wanted that.”

“You don’t want me to make you come?”

“I think it’ll happen if you do it like that. I just want to know what it feels like.”

He stops for a moment deciding if this means he’s failed or not, but he simply says, “Okay,” all kindly and nodding like it was your idea even though it was because this means another one of his dreams were coming true.

Instantly, he’s licking you, feeling more assured of what he could do— this was one of his most vivid fantasies so even though he doesn’t know for sure, he thinks he’s got.

“Oh, oh my god,” his tongue is bringing up wetness to your clit and sucking on it, “that’s good.” He starts licking your clit, going fast, “Daryl, that’s so good.”

He looks up at you, dazed already, “Yeah?”

“Oh, yes.” You fix his hair and he loves the feeling. Truly, he was going a little too fast actually, going up and down and this way and that way too much, but the sounds his mouth and your pussy were making together were too glorious. You let him go, you let him be proud, and either way, you’re whining and moaning because of it. He’s perfectly imperfect and he doesn’t even know it. But you’re too in love with the feeling of him to explain what that means right now so all you say is what he told you about yourself in the church, “I think you’re just perfect.”

To that, he stops again and he looks up at you, smiling. It’s one of those rare ones he seldom does, teeth and all, and your slick coating his lips all the while. His eyes are shining, and he gives you the smallest, sweetest, most innocent kiss to the most obscene place on your body— your clit.

At this point all your sounds have been short, quiet, filled with whines but to this, you moan at the sight, full and loud. It’s involuntary. It’s pornographic. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard in his life. His cock stirs, springing up again as he goes back to giving you your first and forever the most slobberiest head of your life.

After a while he beckons you from below, “Hey, angel,” he calls.

“Mm,” you respond lightly. You’re nearly blissed out. He’s going to make you come.

“I think those girls were right.”

Your eyes become so cute yet so sad— you just want him on you again. “What do you mean?”

“You are sweet. Sweetest thing I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Oh,” you whisper, moaning again as he goes back to licking your clit. “Oh. Fuck.”

He starts licking and kissing your puffy lips, making wet sounds with his tongue, slurping little bits of you where he can. He loves how slick and noisy your pretty pussy is. Your clit throbs and he hums into it all dark and grumbled and husky going, “Mmmmmm.”

You tell him, “God, it’s so good, Daryl.” To which he responds, referring to a different it, “And it’s mine.”

Oh, so he’s cocky now? Well, that’s new for him. You lay back at the thought, at the feeling, reveling in delight.

Here he is, finally.

[spiderfunkz]

HYUN-JU x TALKACTIVE!READER

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

author's note: this is so me.. i talk way too much so i'm lowkey just projecting myself on here. anyways, requests are open but i'm taking my time replying since i've been busy so just keep that in mind!

▸ hyun-ju is a good listener. a great one, even. she's got a big heart and soul, she's someone who is willing to listen to whatever you have to say. and she doesn't just listen, she tries to understand. which is a quality that is hard to find these days.

▸ you noticed it a bit later in your relationship. every time you talk, she listens and isn't afraid to ask questions regarding your situation or interest. she's genuinely invested in what you have to say. "oh, really? tell me more, hon."

▸ even if you just say random things or suggestions related to literally anything, she's all ears! whatever is going on in your head, every single sentence you utter, she's always nodding a long. she's probably wondering how you managed to say three sentences in a second.

▸ you tend to get very extroverted when you get comfortable. you'd ramble about anything for hours and hours, hyun-ju finds this adorable. she's definitely admiring you as you speak, your words always find a way to her heart.

▸ if you were talking about something she has no clue in, she's gonna research about it either online or in books so she could talk about it with you! even if small mistakes slip, her efforts show. and you appreciate that more than ever.

▸ "wait, you watched the movie and read the book?" — "yeah! i thought it would be nice to discuss it with you. you talked about it nonstop last week, so i figured i'd give it a look, and i must admit- you do have amazing taste."

▸ good moods mean you'd go on walks with hyun-ju and visit multiple parks at once. pointing out random birds, trees, and flower types. speaking whatever crossed your mind in specific moments.

▸ "oh look! a daisy. did you know daisies bloom in the spring like every other flower and their last bloom is in autumn? though, that's very common, um. ah! moon flowers, they only bloom one night a year." you'd giggle, "i did not know, but i do now!" hyun-ju smiles.

▸ during movies you can get very quiet. but as the movie ends, you'd ramble quicker than speed itself. "it's okay. at best. i just don't understand why the characters would do such things! i guess it is fictional, but still! does logic not exist in that universe?"

▸ same thing with books, you can read for hours in silence, but as soon as you close the book... "hyun! you must read this! not only is this one of a kind, but once you read it you can not put it down. i love it so much, it made me tear up a bit because of a character, but, um. okay, no spoilers!"

▸ hyun-ju could get really lost in your voice sometimes. you'd be talking about something silly like rocks or something, and she'd still be mesmerized. hyun-ju thinks that your voice could easily soothe her to sleep.

▸ and it's true, your voice makes her feel so safe. during conversations, she gets sudden realizations of how lucky she truly is. to be able to listen to you, in a calm setting, just the two of you.

▸ if you send her voice notes, she'd listen to it on repeat. especially when she's away or vice versa, she loves hearing your voice over and over as it gives ger comfort.

▸ "hey, hyun! i know you're really busy, and i know you only listen to my voice notes when you're done with work, so i ought to tell you about how much i love you. and how much i miss you. don't forget to tell me goodnight, or not the bed bugs might bite me."

▸ she would never think of your ongoing talks as unimportant. if you would suddenly pause and stop talking, she'd notice immediately. but hyun-ju always reassures you that it's perfectly okay.

▸ if you feel tired or off, and you just wanna be quiet for a bit, hyun-ju likes to ramble too, she does it a bit more often ever since she's met you. her voice is sleepy, her head lays near yours, your bed is cold and hyun-ju is the only source of warmth. as she traces your hands, "do you wanna know what happened earlier in the office?" you'd nod, she'd talk and only stop when you've completely fallen asleep.

▸ "and that's the end of it. goodnight, angel." she'd place a kiss on your forehead before falling asleep herself.

[hellfire--cult]

Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

⚠️18+: angst at the beginning, sexual tension, mutual pining, mentions of nausea but from nerves, hints of jealousy, sneaking around, kissing, allusions to smut

wc: 14.1k

A/N: REPOSTED CAUSE MY DUMBASS DELETED IT - It didn't take a month for Roe to update, SUCCESS! The slow burn is finally burning folks. @andvys always proofreads, so a lovely shoutout to the bestie 💕

Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!

Taglist is closed

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CHAPTER 19

He was scared.

He was so scared.

He didn’t know what he was feeling or what is what he should be feeling at all. Who was he? Who is he? What is he? How can he live like this?

“Son, I told you I would protect you, no matter what. I got the best doctors–”

“I’m a fucking freak! Why me!? I have it rough in life as it is, and now I have to live with this fucking condition!?” He was crying into his hands, sobbing, not caring if he was smearing his mucus all over him because in his sixteen years of life, he never thought he would have a physical condition to live with apart from the emotional one. The turmoil and hurricane of trauma and emotions he was born into, and now he had to add this shit on top of all of that.

“You are the strongest boy I’ve ever met, and this– this is new Eddie, but I’m glad I could come across Dr. Murray… He was the only one who identified it.” Everything was so expensive. Everything his uncle had to pay and put himself in debt for Eddie to be checked and for medicine that did nothing until this mysterious man helped him and now he is better, even if it’s just little. 

“New!? I– How can someone live like this!? It hurts and I feel like I’m losing myself each second it passes!” He felt so angry, his sobs becoming rougher, more like groans rather than cries. His breathing became heavy as he looked at his uncle who was trying to be strong for his nephew, his features twitching as his adam’s apple bobbed up and down in a gulp.

“I know, I know–”

“NO YOU DON’T!” And Eddie’s hand grabbed the lamp that was on his night table and simply ripped it off the wall, the light going off, and then he sent it flying against his closet door, shattering the bulb and breaking the top cap from the metal. He was panting, feeling his body as if it were in the pits of hell, and he was so angry, just furious and filled with rage, but–

He looked at his hands, trembling as he frowned in worry, because he never intended to smash his lamp. He never intended to have an outburst like this but he couldn’t help it. It was too late when his body reacted before his mind did. Wayne was standing next to him with widened eyes, glossed over, and he slowly embraced his nephew in a tight hug.

“Son…” And Eddie only cried into his uncle’s shoulder, holding tightly onto him. How is he supposed to live like this? With these outbursts? With this way of living? How is he going to afford it? Is there a chance to have friends with someone like him? A lover? 

Will he remain lonely forever?

He grumbled in his sleep, shifting on the bed as he moved to his side. He was slowly gaining consciousness once again, hearing soft droplets of rain smashing against the window, and a distant thunder being heard. His nose picked up scents, various ones. The most potent one though was floral, a perfume. That made him open his eyes.

He slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes with his hands and letting out a big yawn. His eyes were still squinting from just waking up but he looked around to find himself in your room, and it was not a surprise to him at all. He looked down on himself to see the shirt he lent you when you passed out after your first kiss. Eddie groaned as he stretched out, putting his hands all the way up, feeling his back pop.

“Shit…” He exclaimed and sighed out as he relaxed once more, a bit more awake now. He looked at the floor, seeing his clothes from the night before there, while yours were on the chair against your desk. He eyed the black dress, remembering it bunched up on your stomach as you bounced on him. He closed his eyes as he gathered his thoughts, trying to forget how good you looked taking him, or how you moaned his name, or rather screamed it, or how you drooled–

He groaned as he felt himself growing a bit hard, opening his eyes to throw the sheets off him so he could glare at the bulge of his boxers. He is definitely not coming out of your room until that dies down a bit. He sighed as he sat at the edge of your bed, feet on the wooden floor. He looked to the side to see a picture of you and Robin at work so it seemed. You were half smiling, while Robin was full of teeth in the picture. He wondered if this was taken when you barely moved here, your expression rather cold than excited, compared to how you were now.

He stood up from the bed to walk towards your desk, seeing a picture now of yourself and your mom in your teenage years, probably when you were fifteen or sixteen. That age made Eddie’s eyebrow twitch, but he focused on your mom. You had her eyes. He wondered what your father looked like, someone you haven’t talked much about with him, and he doesn’t see a picture of him around your room.

He turned to look at your vanity now, a smirk appearing on his lips as he remembered how the two of you played cat and mouse the day of the club. He remembers your face, watching you in the mirror while you remained oblivious. He could see and sense how much you were thinking, how conflicted with your arousal towards him you felt. He grabbed your perfume and he sniffed the cap of it, a shiver being sent through his entire system. 

Eddie put it down and then he could the other scents again. Coffee and something sweet. Pancakes? Maybe waffles. Should he put pants on to greet you? He frowned at that thought process because– who the fuck cares at this point?

But he couldn’t deny the nerves he was feeling, because he didn’t know what was really going to happen when he walked out of this room. He didn’t know what he wanted you to say, or what he wanted you to do. There’s one thing he knew. His eyes went to your bed, remembering the night before after the two of you got to your house.

You two didn’t talk at all. The only words were that he could take anything from the fridge and then him asking if you had something for him to wear for bed. Then it was him offering to sleep on the couch but you had denied it, telling him it would be hypocritical to do that now. He couldn’t agree more, and after each of you took turns in the bathroom, you slipped into your bed.

Someone would have probably gotten the itch to touch again, to feel the other person once more, to kiss them and hold them, but as soon as his head touched your pillow, and his eyes closed, he was gone. He didn’t know how exhausted he was, and that was probably because of just how much of him he released yesterday night. He had been trying to satisfy himself the entire week and nothing felt right. Nothing felt like it felt with you. 

And now, the thing he knows is what he wants on that bed of yours. He doesn’t want to just sleep on it next time. He wants to make a mess out of it, probably break it, make you buy a new one since he knows with whom you shared that bed with. A bastard that could not change an inch for you. A bastard who didn’t deserve you at all after how selfish he was with you. Yeah… he wants to break that fucking bed so you could get a new one. One you would baptize with him. A bed you would have only used with him.

He shook his head in shock, pressing his fingers against his forehead, trying to push those kinds of thoughts away. Fuck– He has to keep that shit in check. It doesn’t happen often, and it shouldn’t happen with you. Especially not with you.

He clenched his jaw as he cracked his neck from side to side, taking deep breaths as he looked at your door. He then looked down at his boxers and– okay, good, it’s gone. He walked towards the night table again and picked up his ponytail, putting it in his mouth as he opened the door of your room and started putting his hair up in a bun, and in three steps he was in your living room. 

You were preparing the last batch of waffles, coffee ready in the pot. Syrup on the island counter as well as nutella and strawberries. You didn’t know what he liked, but he will have to eat whatever you have. You honestly didn’t know if you were going to be able to digest anything down because there was just a rollercoaster of nerves and it never stops, not until you two have a talk.

You heard the door opening and then barefoot steps, making your body flush in anticipation. You were wearing a loose silk long black camisole, very open and comfortable to sleep well and– it was pretty. You weren’t going to deny the fact you now felt like riling him up at any given chance, but you honestly didn’t think of it yesterday night. You could have changed this morning, but where was the fun in that?

But you knew that today was not for fun. You two had to talk. You two had to have a rational and adult talk about what was going on between you. You both cannot just go and say fuck it, you have to either have conditions or really look into the pros and cons of this situation.

But, first… you have to face him. So you turn your head over your shoulder to see him leaning against the door frame as he tied his hair up in the messy bun you know him for and fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What is he doing to you? You fucked him two times only and you already want a third one? You have to control yourself. 

“That smells fucking good.” His voice was hoarse and he finished putting his hair up, finally looking up to see you. His body turned into a furnace in just a second, biting the inside of his cheek as he scanned the back of your legs, his eyes taking in every inch of exposed skin as he could. “Well, damn.”

No more hiding whenever you two check eachother out so it seems. It makes you feel weird, nice, but weird. You cleared your throat and pointed at the stool next to the island counter where the plates were.

“None of that. Sit down.” You quickly turned to take the last waffles out of the waffle maker and put them on the plate that already had six waffles on it. 

“Demanding. I like it.” A shiver ran down your spine at the compliment. It… was a compliment, wasn’t it? Or rather, a kinky remark. Your face heated up when you remembered how you acted the night before. Yeah, it was definitely because of that.

You unplugged the waffle maker and grabbed the plate, turning around to put it in the middle of the counter, in front of Eddie. You could sit next to him, but for the sake of keeping this civil and adultlike, you sit across from him, earning a soft chuckle from his part.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing…” He knew you were keeping distance in order not to come onto him, because he doesn’t know what he would have done to you if you sat next to him. He understands. A conversation has to be had first, and he will wait for you to start it, even if he wants to launch himself across the counter to have you on the kitchen floor. He prefers something else than the waffle he is serving himself on his plate as you fill the glasses with water.

You didn’t know how to start, the whole preparation of waffles done in complete silence. You saw how he put maple syrup as well as nutella, and– Your eyes went wide when he was putting everything you put on the table, including the strawberries and chocolate chips.

“Eddie, that’s– How can you eat that!?” You were surprised, not knowing he had a sweet tooth for this. Your own waffle was simple, whipped cream and strawberries. His? It was a monstrosity. He stopped mid squirting more chocolate syrup on his pancake and looked up at you with a squint of his eyes.

“I’m a growing man. I need my nutrients.” 

You stared at him in surprise and then you finally let out a snort, covering your mouth as you started laughing into it. You heard him follow you right behind and– you didn’t notice how tense you were. You didn’t notice just how hard your shoulders were even before he came into the kitchen, and this interaction finally made you relax because… he was still Eddie.

“Nutrients? That is a nuclear bomb, Munson!” 

“Bomb!? I take offense to that. This is barely something.” At that, you heard the squirt of the syrup as another gush of chocolate dripped down and you raised your hands to signal him to stop.

“Okay, enough! When I said you could take anything from the fridge, I didn’t mean for you to use up ALL of my things!” He shot a pouty lip your way and you shook your head at him as he put down the bottle of chocolate syrup. 

“This is a prison.” You rolled your eyes, but the nerves you felt flew away thanks to him breaking the ice. It almost looked like nothing happened between the two of you yesterday night, but the soreness in between your legs told you otherwise. You took this chance to take a bite out of your own waffle before your stomach closed up once more.

“Do you get waffles in prison?” You heard him chew and then talk with his mouth full, making you wince in disgust and scrunch up your nose at him.

“If you suck a cop’s dick, probably.” 

“Ugh–” You disgustingly looked away, clenching your eyes at the image. It wasn’t pleasant at all, but it still made you giggle, the ice breaking even more than before, letting you take another bite of your waffle. You were unaware of the intense gaze that was being directed your way right across the counter. 

He was glad to make you lose the tension you were carrying, but he really wanted to get this talk out of the way and know your true feelings or intentions with what the two of you had going on right now. He let you finish the waffle as he devoured his and he was about to start preparing a second one, but a clear of your throat made him look at you expectantly.

“Yes? I promise I’m not going to use all the nutella–”

“We have to talk.” You blurted out. The quicker you get this over with, the quicker you two can decide what route your friendship takes from today on. He blinked your way a few times and then took a sharp breath in, pushing the plate away to cross his arms over the table, leaning with his elbows. 

“Yeah, you start.” What? Fuck. What do you say? What do you ask? You didn’t really think of what to say of the situation or how to start talking about it. You felt your heart beating into your ears, the tension now back on your shoulder as he wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb and licked it while keeping his gaze on you.

Oh, what an asshole.

“What the fuck are we doing?” It came out from deep within your soul. It was a question you have asked yourself the week before, and today as soon as you woke up and saw him sleeping next to you. What the actual fuck are you doing? What the fuck is he doing? Where do you both think this is going?

He was not prepared for that question. Taken aback, he sits a bit straighter in his stool, looking down at his food in thought. He had to be the most honest possible today, cause if he wasn’t, he might not have another night with you ever again.

“Fucking. That’s what.” You rolled your eyes at that answer. It wasn’t the one you expected even though you didn’t know exactly what you wanted.

“For fuck sake, that’s not what I meant, and you know that.” 

“Then what do you mean?” His eyes locked with yours again and you fought the butterflies that were disrupting your insides as you looked down at your plate.

“We… We couldn’t stand eachother before, then we finally built a friendship, a good one and–” You closed your eyes as you tried to look for words as carefully as possible but there was no need for that. He understood you, and he also had that same train of thought once. But then, he tasted you, and gone were all consequences from having more of you from his mind.

“I get it… We don’t have to lose that friendship, you know?” You scoffed at that, shaking your head.

“What if one day something goes wrong, like I mentioned before?” Your eyes locked with his again as you continued talking, pouring your thoughts out. “What if I get a partner one day? Or– you do? I don’t know if they’re going to let us keep talking to one another if they find out we slept with eachother. Multiple Times at that.” 

Oh… he didn’t think of that. He felt his stomach twist with distaste at your words, at your rationality. He hated the fact you were right, but he also hated the thought of not talking to you again… or was it hating the fact he might lose your touch someday? But he knows something you don’t–

“I don’t have the same chances to date as you do.” His eyes looked at his plate again and his words caught your attention, staring at his form. You could sense sadness coming from the way his shoulders are slightly slumped, yet still tense, signaling you it was a sensitive topic.

“Why do you say that?” He took a sharp breath in as he looked at you with a determined gaze, something that signaled you to stop asking questions, a shiver running from top to bottom in your body.

“I just know. But you are right, I didn’t think of that.” And he probably would have never thought about that possibility. You felt dejected by the way he changed the topic from him, and the memory of the flask in his bathroom cabinet came back to your mind. Was he sick? You knew there might be something going on with him, but you didn’t think it could be that serious. 

“Yeah…” You two remained silent for a while, the appetite gone as you looked at the plate before you. This was… not how you expected it to go either. Rationally, you should stop this, but deep down you really don’t want it to be over. Your stomach twisted, feeling regret for your choice of words or what you brought to the table that made Eddie be the one to back out this time.

You took a sip of your water as you heard him take another bite. You wondered what he was thinking right now. Maybe coming to terms you two have to go back to the way you were? Go back to your boring hook up tales? Fuck, you were not ready to go back to looking through your contacts to find someone to satisfy you, now knowing someone like Eddie exists. You jumped when you heard his rough voice talk again.

“I don’t want to stop this.” 

Your eyes widened slightly, gazing back up at him and his eyes were piercing through you, waiting for your reaction. Your belly did a flip, and your thighs tightened against one another and maybe you imagined it, but you saw one of Eddie’s lips twitch upwards for just a second. You gulped as you straightened up in your own stool. He was being honest with you, and maybe this time you could push rationality aside.

What’s wrong with some fun between friends?

“Me neither…”

The air in the room changed. It became heavy, almost humid, a tad suffocating. You saw his jaw clenching as he stared at you, and you couldn’t look away. It was almost as if he were hypnotizing you, telling you to come closer, to move towards him, but you remained seated, clearing your throat for him to continue the talk.

“Then, I guess we start establishing rules.” Your eyebrows raised in surprise to then squint at him in question as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the counter, his plate in the middle, and his chin on top of his joined hands. You copied his stance, suddenly feeling as if this were some tense job meeting going on with him, a smirk breaking on his lips.

“Rules?”

“Yes. What we can and can’t do. What we like and what we don’t. And how we do this arrangement.” 

“How we do–” 

“If we schedule it for certain days, or if we simply call eachother up.” Oh. A pang of something stabbed you in the side of your stomach, feeling as if something was boiling inside of it.

“You seem experienced doing these kinds of arrangements.” He was looking at you with amusement in his eyes, his body starting to tremble with the need of touching you again for how you were acting once more with him.

“Jealous again?” You rolled your eyes as you shook your head.

“I am pointing out something that seems obvious, that’s all.” He hummed at your response. Bullshit, but this is not the time for some flirty bantering because it will end with you being railed into on top of this counter and the waffles you prepared on the floor.

“Okay, so, back to before, what’s it going to be?” He was curious for your answer, wondering if you were thinking the same thing he was. You bit the inside of your cheek in thought as you looked away from him to think. If you scheduled it, you would have a secured fuck once or twice per week… but if you two called eachother… maybe there’s more…

“I guess calling. It’s how I normally do it.” Oh you were a fucking– His jaw went to the side as he grinded his teeth together. He wasn’t going to be the only one pissed in here. 

“Good, same thought process.” You took a deep breath in as you controlled the burning anger inside your chest. So you were just a normal hook up to him, huh. You turned to look at him again, his eyes now more fierce than before and you felt a little smaller than you did seconds ago for whatever reason.

“What else?”

“Hmm… What we do and what we don’t.” Your eyebrows frowned for a second as you thought about that answer.

“Definitely not telling the group.” You remembered how Steve sighed of relief knowing you hadn’t slept with Eddie. It signaled you that you should never do it, yet here you are, having a talk with him on how to do this whole friends with benefits thing.

“Alright, I can agree on that one… Um, no acting awkward. Like I said I–” He wanted to be honest with you, feeling his heart clench in his chest as he pulled his arms back down, now pushing the plate away to cross them over the counter, leaning forward. “I want to keep the friendship with you. We have fun together and we laugh at what we send eachother and we talk about our days–”

“Yes.” You were happy. A small smile appeared on your lips as your shoulders lost the tension, putting your arms down and hands resting on your lap. He smiled back at you, leaning back again.

“Okay… Um… staying over?” It was an interesting question. He almost never spent nights with his hook ups, nor did he like them staying over, but he really does not mind it with you, in fact, he wants you to stay. Your hands felt sweaty all of a sudden as you flushed all over.

“I… don’t mind that.” He wanted to sigh of relief. It was two times in a row that you had woken up before him, and he really wanted to see you sleeping too. Wake up first to look at you for a while. He didn’t really know why he wanted to do that, but he was curious to know how you looked as you slept, and as you slowly woke up.

“Perfect… anything else?”

“Condoms are a must.” He rolled his eyes at you but nodded nonetheless. You were nervous at this other step, but since Eddie was probably going to be a very recurrent hook up– “And we need to get tested.”

“What?” He was shocked at your request, his eyebrows frowning in confusion as he stared at you. You took a nervous breath in and looked down at your lap as you played with your fingers.

“Yeah, I mean… It’s not like we are going to fuck once every two weeks…” He smirked at that, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“Damn Peach, how many times are you planning to fuck me per week?” You felt burning on your cheeks, on your whole face as your eyes shot back up to look at him.

“I– I– That’s not what I meant! But–” Fuck, you dug this hole all by yourself. He laughed at your reaction and continued talking.

“I never said I disliked the idea.” Your eyes connected with his and the air didn’t enter your lungs for about three seconds. Fuck, he has you wrapped around his fucking finger, doesn’t he. He continued talking after nodding once, “Fine. We both get checked.” 

You sighed in relief, giving a nod as well in appreciation to his answer. You were getting checked either way, your annual visit already coming up. But if you were completely honest… you didn’t see yourself fucking someone else other than Eddie for a long while… you knew no one could fuck you or fill you the way he did, and for now, you are becoming a tad addicted to it.

“Thank you.” You waited to see if there were any other conditions he would like to comment on, but you saw him thinking, maybe trying to remember anything he might have missed. He looked good while he was in thought. Fuck. 

“That’s that. What about what we like?” He looked back at you and you felt a little bold after this talk, a new surge of confidence coming in now that you know you have him and he has you for an indefinite time. 

“I guess we can find out along the way.” He felt a chill run down his arms as he stared at you, surprised by your response, yet he couldn't help the twitch that was happening inside his boxers. Oh he wants to find it all out. He wants to know everything, if you like to be smacked, choked, tied up, pulled, manhandled to his liking, but he already knows that. He remembers how he held you up against the wall and you were in complete bliss from it, or how he smacked you yesterday and even if you were surprised, you didn’t tell him to not do it again. 

He wondered if you would let him put his hand around your throat.

The waffles were forgotten as the temperature in the room got hotter each second that passed, at each stolen glance and each breath taken. The hunger was now for something else entirely, and for him, it was sitting right across, and in between a pair of thighs. So why not take it after everything was said and done?

He got up from the stool, your breathing quickening as you saw him slowly round the counter, his hand gracing the marble on top and his eyes never left yours. Your thighs clenched again, or maybe it was something else that clenched, because you started feeling hot with need. How could it be? Your thighs hurt from the position of yesterday night, and you were obviously oversensitive, and it will probably be a tad painful at first but–

“How about we start finding out, Peach?”

Fuck. Now that the barrier was gone, the line was completely erased, and the only thing you had to do was wrap your arms around his neck to get him, it only made your belly yell in need of him. You’re in deep shit now. You turned around in your stool to slowly open your legs for him to step in between. He smirked at the action, his mouth salivating at the invitation and he licked the inside of his bottom lip as one of his hands came to hold the side of your face, stepping in between your parted thighs.

You closed your eyes as you let his touch render you stupid even if for just a second and he tilted his head with amusement. You’re gonna be the fucking death of him. You opened your pretty eyes, begging silently for him to do something, anything at all. His hunger for you grew, and his face started getting close to yours as your hands went to hold onto his waist, your breaths mixing with one another’s and–

RING.

Your heads snapped towards the kitchen door, and you both frowned in confusion at it. Eddie slowly turned to you, a low whisper in his lips.

“Were you expecting someone–”

And then, the yell of a frantic Robin calling out your name, “ARE YOU IN THERE!? ARE YOU ALIVE!?”

Your eyes widened as you gasped, your hands slamming against your mouth and then Eddie stared at you alarmingly as you moved down from the stool, him pulling away from you as you two went to the living room to look at the front door. You whispered to him, but it was more like a silent yell.

“I don’t– I don’t remember inviting her–” Realization hit you like a train wreck. Last night. In the middle of your endeavors with Eddie, when taking the condom out of your purse you had seen your phone glinting with notifications… and you never charged your phone when you returned… and when you woke up, checking your phone was the least of your problems. “Oh, fuck–”

“Peach, you’re a fucking–” He made a movement as if he wanted to strangle you but he contained himself when more banging was heard, making him jump.

“I SWEAR TO GOD, I DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE WITH SOMEONE IN THERE, BUT I’M COMING IN WITH MY SPARE KEY!” You gasped, pushing Eddie into your room, and your closet wasn’t big enough for a person to fit. You were both panicking and then you closed the door when you heard the lock of your front door being opened. 

“Don’t make a fucking sound!” You grabbed Eddie and threw him onto the bed, an oof coming out of him and before he could say anything, you immediately threw the comforter all over him. Your heart was in your throat as you heard Robin calling out your name in your living room. Act normal, for fuck sake act normal.

You got out of your room, tip toeing, pretending to close the door slowly, seeing Robin relax in her spot, her hand on her chest as she breathed heavily. You made a shushing sound as the door fully closed. You walked towards her, the vile lie appearing in your throat.

“What are you doing here!?” You whispered-yelled and she looked at you as if you had grown a second head, her eyes bulging out of her scalp as she waved her hands at you.

“Why the fuck are you whispering!? I haven’t heard from you since yesterday night! I know I was drunk but I remembered you left and–”

“Shh!!” You wildly signaled your door and she looked over your shoulder with a confused frown and then back at you, a whisper this time.

“Who the fuck is in there, and why the hell did you not answer!?” You rolled your eyes, sighing.

“I forgot because well, I was kind of you know… busy. And then I forgot to charge it and I just woke up.” Robin now raises an eyebrow at you, looking towards the kitchen, and then back at you. You felt like you were sweating all over as you awaited for her answer, begging for Eddie to not make a fucking sound from your room.

“I smell food though… Are you lying to me?” When did Robin become so observant? Fuck–

“Um… yeah I prepared them and went back to bed–” You saw how her eyes fixated on the door, her head cocking to the side and you felt your heart in your throat, pulsating, feeling your vein about to pop. Is she putting the pieces together?

“You left with Eddie last night.” Fuck– You felt your forehead sweating, your fingertips running cold as you started feeling the waffle swirling in your stomach.

“Yeah…?” You tried to sound confused, nonchalant, as much as you could.

“And he brought you home.” Her eyes were back on you, a squint appearing as you admitted defeat by now. You sighed and looked down, nodding at her. It was no use to lie to Robin anymore is there?

“Robs–” And suddenly Robin gasps, and you raise your head to look at her, your mouth opening to talk to her, but a cheeky smile appears on her lips, confusing you. Her voice now whispered as she pointed at your room’s door.

“Is that Jeff?”

Your eyes were wide as you stared at her. What…? How the fuck did she– Your lie. She thinks you actually did sleep with Jeff before, and she thinks… Oh, this is great. This can save your ass and Eddie’s in more ways than one. You pretended to shush her again, your eyes widening in faux worry.

“Lower your voice!” She giggled and rolled her eyes as she bit her bottom lip. She moved her eyebrows up and down, making your stomach turn and turn, not wanting her to ask any questions. 

“So Eddie is being your wingman?” You rolled your eyes and were about to speak– “Do you think he’ll stay for long? I want to stay to cure this hangover and I deserve your waffles for the worry you made me go through!”

You felt a cold sweat as nerves wracked you all over. She crossed her arms in front of her chest as you opened your mouth to protest, denying you from saying no. Fuck. Shit. You looked at your bedroom door and back at her nervously.

“He doesn’t know all of you know, just that Eddie knows!” 

“I’ll just stay in the kitchen! I won’t say hi to him or anything!” She giggled at you and you saw her walking to your kitchen and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. How the fuck are you going to pull this off? Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You rushed into your room, seeing Eddie pulling the blanket off of him, his hair all wild despite the bun. You were wincing as you looked around, not really knowing what to do while Eddie got up from the bed, still in his boxers and the shirt you lent him. He whispered to you once more as he looked at the door.

“What the fuck is going on, did Buckley leave?” He asked and you looked at him, shaking your head, biting your bottom lip.

“No… fuck, no, she didn’t and she won’t leave and is going to stay and–” You winced while looking at him, knowing he was going to be mad. “I told her Jeff was in my room…”

His eyes widened as he watched you in complete shock, his hands starting to wave around, not believing you lied with Jeff again instead of saying he was a random person. 

“Peach, what the fuck–”

“Think about it! If you ever say you are ‘taking me home’ and it’s just the two of us in the car, they will always believe you’re taking me to Jeff’s!” He couldn’t believe your lie, but he also couldn’t deny that it does make sense and that it works for the two of you. He didn’t fucking like it, he hated it. He hated that everything he did to you was going to be tarnished by Jeff’s image, and he groaned in distaste but nodded at you nonetheless.

“Fine. Fine. Now tell me how the fuck I’m supposed to get out of here! We know she is going to peek, so how the shit are we doing this!?” He was whisper/yelling and you bit the nail on your index finger, looking around and then at the door. An idea popped in your head, and it was risky, but it was the only solution, or the only viable way of escape for Eddie.

“Okay… okay… I’ll distract her, and you sneak out… I’ll try to make her not face the door.” He was looking at you, a fake smile appearing on his lips as he crossed his arms.

“What a great fucking plan!” He was being sarcastic and you glared at him, slapping his arm. 

“Any other good ideas!?” You saw him sighing and his head falling back, displaying his neck to you. This was not the time for you to stare at his veins, or the bite you left there the day before. You sighed and nodded, trying to look away from him to focus somewhere else. “Okay, I need to get out before she becomes suspicious…”

You saw him look back down and nod, sighing. Oh… shit, how are your greetings going to be? Do you… kiss him? You want to kiss him, but what if he thinks it’s weird? Should you wait for him to do it? What if he doesn’t do it? He was looking at you, his head slightly tilting to the side and your heart banged on your chest as you just looked at him, waiting.

And he realized it. You were expecting him and he wanted nothing more than to do that. He wanted to kiss you again the moment he woke up, hungry for you as the memories came back to him as consciousness was fully reincorporated in his mind again. He was a bit insecure, not knowing if this was a barrier for the two of you, something that is more intimate than just having sex. 

But it was kind of stupid to worry about that now, wasn’t it?

So he took a step towards you, and you felt your breathing cutting off as he got closer. You licked your lips absentmindedly and Eddie wanted to groan at the sight, devour them and Robin can go to hell for all he cares. He wants to throw you on the bed again and make you moan, scream, pant, but now he has to say goodbye to you and he fucking hates it.

His hand was about to reach for your waist when the two of you heard glass breaking and a yell. Your eyes widened as you two pulled back, looking behind you at the door as well as Eddie. He was worried but he couldn’t run out to check on Robin, but the itch was there, needing to make sure his friend was okay. 

“Okay, um– I’ll talk to you later, whatever happened I’ll take care of it and you use that to your advantage to sneak out.” You looked back at him and you two stared into each other's eyes in silence, waiting to see if a move was made, if one would take the leap to greet one another the way you both want to. 

But another yelp made you snap out and your worry made you turn around and motion for him all over your room for him to change. He gave you a quick nod, letting you know he got the message. You took a deep breath in as you quickly got out of the room, closing the door behind you and rushing to the kitchen to see Robin in the sink, her hand under it as water ran down, washing herself off. Her head turned over her shoulder, a sheepish smile on her lips.

“I uh… a glass slipped from my hand…”

“Did you… grab a waffle with your bare hand and use that same hand to grab the glass?” You said this as if this has happened before, and yes it has. Four times, at least those were the amount of times you were present at. Robin often forgot that waffles use butter on the pans so they wouldn’t stick. She whined and looked at you with helplessness. 

“Don’t make fun of me and help me! I picked up a shard and cut my finger…” She pouted at you and you already knew that it was the smallest thing ever, a splinter maybe. You walked towards her, avoiding the glass on the floor. You stood next to her, grabbing her wrist and taking it out from under the water to look at it. Yeah, you couldn’t even see it. 

“It’s just a little splinter Robin–”

“Still hurts!” She sounded like a child, but that’s just who your best friend was. You took this opportunity to sit her on the stool, her back facing the kitchen’s door. You turned on the light and grabbed her wrist again, putting the index finger closer to your eye. You really couldn’t see shit, so you pressed on it, making Robin yelp again. 

“It’s so tiny Robin, I can’t even see it!” She whined, her feet kicking a bit as she pouted at you.

“I can feel it!” You sighed, shaking your head at her.

“Okay, try to look for it yourself, you know where it hurts.” She nodded at you and she put her index finger close to her eye, inspecting it carefully with help of her other hand as you watched her. Out of your peripheral vision you saw a shadow and you looked up to see Eddie tiptoeing with his boots in his hand, now wearing the clothes from the night before. Your eyes widened as your heart beat rapidly in your chest. 

If Robin were to feel his presence and turn around, you’re both screwed– Eddie’s eyes widened as he motioned with his free hand the open door of the kitchen with a ‘Are you serious?’ face on and, okay, you were stupid leaving that open. He has all the right to be looking at you like you were a moron. You rolled your eyes and gave a strong tilt towards where your front door is. He looked at your front door and then back at you, making your heart skip a beat.

He made a motion with his free hand, as if he were texting on his phone and you nodded, getting the message. Robin’s head suddenly snapped up towards you and you felt the blood leave your face as she looked at you with a confused frown. Eddie’s eyes widened and froze in his place.

“What are you looking at?” She was about to turn her head and your hand went to grab her index finger and press, making Robin turn again towards you and yell, ripping her finger away from you, “OW! What is wrong with you!?”

“Just… trying to help?” Eddie gave you one more alarmed look and ran off. You were breathing heavily and then, the front door clicked and you finally relaxed, relief flooding your limbs. Robin’s eyebrows met in the middle as she snapped her head around and then back at you with her mouth opened and an offended gaze.

“Did he walk behind me and you distracted me!?”

You smiled innocently and shrugged, trying not to show just how nervous this whole situation made you. 

And you regretted not telling Eddie goodbye the way you wanted to.

It was as if nothing happened between the two of you.

Memes being sent, Eddie bashing on you for not changing your old car, and the only time you two talked about anything regarding what happened, was about Robin. He wanted to know if Robin had asked anything, or if she was suspicious about how ‘Jeff’ ran out like that. 

She was, but she still believed it was Jeff. You only told her that he is very shy, not a person that normally has a booty call, so he doesn’t know how to act about it. That was that. Then Eddie had sent you like forty tiktoks, and you sent back sixty.

That was how it was all week, and you liked it, but you didn’t at the same time. On wednesday you had gotten… needy. Your eyes lingered on your bed more than one time as you contemplated messaging Eddie. You had paced and thought about it, but the more you did, the more you lost confidence on actually pressing send. One of you has to break the ice with it, after all, you did say you would contact eachother if needed.

Yet it didn’t happen.

You wondered if it was going to be not as usual as you thought it was going to be. He did say he wasn’t against your comment on being a recurrent fuck, but now you couldn’t help but doubt it. You didn’t want it to be something that happened once per month, not even once every two weeks. You were hoping at least one fuck with him per week, and hopefully to not become addicted to it the more it happened… Now that you’re thinking about it, maybe it was a good thing to not have a recurrent fuck.

Now friday, you had invited them all for a movie night, and your nerves were there, but it was more of an anticipation, of the hope that he might stay back. Argyle and Eden were not coming, and Jonathan had to work, so it was just you, Robin, Steve, Nance and Eddie. You had worn something comfortable yet, tried to make it catching. A buttoned blouse that was flowing with the first three buttons open, your cleavage showing, and then it was tucked in your pants. 

It was casual but not too obvious for your friends to question your clothing choice. You wondered if he was as nervous, or as expectating as you were about tonight. You hoped he was. You have been yearning it heavily for a few days already, burning from inside out as you tried touching yourself to the memory of him, but nothing could satiate you. Only Eddie Munson could, and his huge fucking di–

Your doorbell rang, making you stop fixing the bowls of snacks on your coffee table. You had prepared some nachos, dips, pringles and wine. Yeah, everything looked fine. You gave a nod of encouragement and walked towards the door, expecting to see Steve, Robin and Nancy, knowing Steve was driving them, but when you opened the door you found a singular person, and it was the one you wanted to see the most.

“Hi Sweetheart.” 

Your heart skipped a beat, and he looked so good, making you already want to clench over nothing, with your imagination running wild, more than a rollercoaster would. You saw his breathing hitch, and you could swear you saw his nostrils flare up slightly, his pupils becoming darker, but maybe it was your stupid brain making things up because– you were so hungry.

“Hi Eds.” You moved out of the way to let him in and he gave a nod and walked in, his eyes never leaving yours and– Oh… you knew. He knew. He wasn’t leaving tonight, wasn’t he? You could feel it. The tension as soon as he walked in, how the air became heavy, how his eyes looked all over you, staying over your open blouse more than they should have.

You felt his cologne invade your nostrils, your lungs, and already your entire apartment smelled like him. You closed the door as you felt your heart about to burst in your chest and probably make you bleed from the inside out. You were already burning in your core and you wanted to curse at him from the effects he was causing on you by just walking through the door. 

You two had been talking like you always did, but as soon as you two saw eachother it was as if you were not that kind of friends at all. Not that you were disliking it, it was just new. You heard how he walked further in your house, and the last time that he was here, he was in your room, barely dressed, and then you two were almost about to go at it again before getting completely interrupted.

You turned to face him, seeing him taking his leather jacket off, revealing a tight white shirt on his body, making your throat close up on you. He never wore white, and you never realized how good it looked on him because it contrasted against all of his tattoos on his arms. His hair was on a low bun, his beard neatly cut, and he was sideways to you, letting you inspect him all, from head to toes, and yet–

“Checking me out already? Let a man breathe.” You blinked as you felt heat rushing to your cheeks, embarrassment running you over as your eyes fixated on him again. He was smirking your way, biting his bottom lip to contain a laugh, his eyes gleaming with something you could not decipher.

“It was weird seeing you with a white shirt on, that’s all Munson.” He raised his eyebrows and looked down on himself, giving you a nod and then looking back up at you.

“Wanted to try something new.” You couldn’t help but believe he did it to catch your attention, and he had succeeded. You cleared your throat as you felt your belly turning, the nerves taking over you as you didn’t really know how to act now. Normally? Flirty? Expectantly?

“Right, um… I’ll go get the cork screw for the wine.” You turned from him and walked inside the kitchen, taking a deep breath and hoping that would calm you down. You had to calm down. He was Eddie, still the same Eddie who you hated for a whole year, and the one you became friends and also the one you fucked– You bit your bottom lip as you walked towards your drawers, opening the third one, looking for the cork screw.

You frowned when you couldn’t find it, rummaging through it. You closed it and went to open the second one. You cursed when you couldn’t see it at first glance, and you were sure you put it in the drawers. You closed that drawer and opened the very first one, finally spotting it. You hummed in approval and reached to move the utensils out of the way in order to grab it, and then you froze when you felt a presence behind you.

“Running away from me so early in the night, Peach?” You gulped as you felt hands glide over your hips, fingers pressing against them, making your breath stop for a second. 

“I wasn’t– I just forgot to put this on the table–” You were breathless in each word you spoke and he couldn’t help but grin in victory at that. He was making you feel nervous, yet not uncomfortable. He knows it, but he will not do anything you do not want to do, not wanting to trust his senses only.

“Mhm… Do you want me to back off?” Your face warmed at how considerate he was, despite you two already having stated you wanted eachother to keep doing this. He was being respectful to you, first and foremost. You could feel your inner thighs burn, your core tense at the need, and you let your body speak for you, your ass gently brushing against his front. You heard him choke on his breath, a small smirk appearing on your lips.

“No. Not really…” His hands gripped your hips and made you flush against him, pressing you harder, and you wanted to moan at the closeness, and at the rising bulge that was on the curve of your ass. 

“Playing with fire darling.” His fingers moved, slowly and tentatively to your front. You closed your eyes as you took a deep breath in, taking in his touches as your hands remained still inside your drawer, the cork screw forgotten.

“As if you didn't like it, Munson.” You heard him chuckle, closer than before, his breath hitting your right ear. A shiver ran down your spine, your eyes opening as goosebumps covered your arms, your belly in flames as you finally clenched around nothing. 

“I never said I didn’t, did I?” His voice was low, rough, and with a hint of smugness that you have started to like. It was seductive, and it was making you almost tremble with need, wanting that voice to be moaning your name already. He was growing harder the more he held your hips, slowly moving to your thighs, and he wanted to dig his fingertips in and press you even harder against him, slide his hands between your thighs and make a mess out of you in the lapse of minutes.

He licked his lips as he looked over your neck, your earlobe, your jaw and he wanted to mark it more than anything else. Maybe he can have a taste, can’t he? He can smell your perfume, driving his mind insane, his bulge twitch even more than before, and this is going to be a problem, because he can’t help his mouth coming closer to your neck, and he knows he is going to grow even harder the moment he tastes you again.

You were holding your breath as you felt the hot air hitting your skin, your head tilting to the other side, unconsciously so, but yet it was a green light for him to do whatever he wanted. You are out of your mind, because your friends are about to arrive, and Eddie’s lips are already brushing against your pulse point and–

RING.

He groaned, or growled, loudly, his forehead falling to your shoulder in defeat as you whined in protest. Interrupted by the same thing once again. You should have just messaged Eddie for tonight. You shouldn’t have done this whole charade in order to see him again, and now you regretted telling your friends anything at all. You were being mean but… but fuck, you were so close to him and now you can’t help but feel even more desperate than before.

“Fuck…” He cursed with a sigh and you weren’t going to miss this chance. You weren’t going to let him leave tonight.

“We can continue this later…?” You asked and his head perked up from your shoulder, and you turned your head to look at him, your noses touching as your breaths mixed together in between the two of you. Your eyes were going up and down, his eyes, his lips, his eyes, his lips. You saw him slowly nod as his eyes were transfixed on your own lips, his mouth slightly open and you felt excitement bubble up inside of you, letting out a shaky breath out. 

He was leaning in, and he was so close, his plush lips brushing against yours only for the doorbell to ring again and for him to growl loudly, pulling away from you, his touch completely leaving you.

“I need to go to the bathroom because–” You blinked at his words and he pointed to his pants and your eyes followed his signal and–

“Oh.” You snorted and he glared at you at how cocky you were, knowing you had done this to him. He had a very noticeable bulge, not tented, but you couldn’t miss it.

“Yeah, you’re gonna pay for doing this when you knew people were coming over.” You rolled your eyes as you grabbed the corkscrew and closed the drawer, walking out of the kitchen with him following right behind you. 

“Sure, whatever you say.” He gave you a warning look before heading to your bathroom. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and put a hand on your chest. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You were putty in his hands and you didn’t notice how he made your knees tremble. Was he always this hot and you didn’t notice it? Did you dislike him so much you couldn’t see past it?

You couldn’t help but feel like you were missing out for a long time.

Knocks on the door interrupted your thought process, gasping as you remembered your friends, rushing to open the door for them. Steve, Nancy and Robin stood before you, Steve with a bottle of wine in his hand and a roll of his eyes.

“What took you so long?” He walked past you, followed by the two girls who were holding hands. 

“She was probably talking with Jeff.” Robin snickers, making you flush as you close the door, holding up the corkscrew to them.

“No, I was looking for this and Robin, can you stop making a big deal out of sex?” She rolled her eyes at you, taking the corkscrew out of your hands and moving to sit on the couch, grabbing your bottle of wine first to start opening it.

“Oh please, same hook up in the lapse of a week? Sounds serious to me.” You sighed and scoffed at that, though she was right. Your hookups were never the same. It was a person one week, another the next, never the same one two times in a row. Last time that happened, you started a relationship. 

Panic set in at that. No, that’s not happening. Not with Eddie, right? You don’t like him like that. Well, you didn’t like Billy like that either and you dated him later on because feelings developed without your will and– Fuck. No, you are thinking too much about this. You have to stop before your mind explodes and makes everything awkward. 

You heard the door of the bathroom open and everyone looked to see Eddie walking out, wiping his hands away, stopping in his tracks when he felt the eyes on him, a confused look on his face. 

“What?” The rest shrugged, paying it no mind and you had to hold in the sigh of relief of people simply not caring if he got here early. Good. You looked at Eddie with a side glance and he reciprocated it with a small nod, walking towards the couch to sit down next to Robin. “You need help Buckley?”

You saw how he helped Robin unscrew the bottle open, putting the bottle in between his thighs to pull the cork off, his bicep tightening as his face contorted with the strength he was putting in. You felt your center clench out of nowhere, heat radiating from your fingertips and you had to do something to take your mind away from him. You can’t believe you are getting hot and bothered by him opening a wine bottle. 

“So, what are we watching?” Steve asked as he sat down on the arm chair, moving his upper body to take a chip and dip it in the homemade guacamole you made. You saw how Nancy plopped on the floor, next to Robin’s legs, reaching over to grab a chip herself and just eat it like that. 

The remaining seat was on the edge, right next to Eddie. 

He was in the middle of the couch, giving the bottle back to Robin as you walked over to sit next to him, trying to calm your nerves now, feeling a little guilty. You are here with all your friends, fucking one of them, but the rest not knowing about it and will never know. You felt bad for Robin the most, but you honestly did not want to make a big deal about this, knowing it was just a physical relationship. You knew that they would either not like it and try to pry the two of you apart or… the opposite and you were not sure that could ever happen with Eddie.

“I want to watch Terrifier 3. It’s already in the streaming app.” Nancy mentions with her mouth full of chips as she caresses Robin’s calf. The strawberry haired girl was chugging the wine from her glass, probably out of nerves. After all this time, Robin still got nervous around her girlfriend. It was endearing.

“A scary movie?” You ask, already feeling a bit fidgety at the prospect of it, not being good with horror movies. Eddie was serving himself a glass of wine, a smirk on his lips as he looked at the pour.

“Don’t worry Peach, I’ll protect you from the evil clown.” You glared at him as Steve chuckled, shaking his head. For some reason, you started remembering the last time you two had talked about a scary movie together was… when you had hurt him calling him a freak. A weird person. When they went to see Evil Dead without you. He had accused you of being a scaredy cat, and you had gotten defensive about it and now…

“I’ll sacrifice you to save myself.” You joke, knowing damn well you would never do that. He chuckles, looking at you with a look only the two of you understand. An endearing one, caring, yet filled with fire behind the irises.

“You hurt me, baby.” Your eyes slightly widened at the pet name, hoping no one would think weird of it, also looking at him in warning to be careful with his words in front of your friends.

“Don’t fight you two.” Nancy giggles mockingly, and you see Eddie turning his head to laugh with her, and you just sit there perplexed at how no one suspects a thing. It means you two were never put together, in any way, by no one in the group.

“She’s the one who said was sacrificing me to a murderous clown to save herself!” He exclaims and that makes you roll your eyes, grabbing a chip and dipping it into the sour cream.

“I never said you were dying, Munson.” The chip went into your mouth as he looked back at you, and a drop of cream was on the corner of your lips. You wiped it off with your thumb, your tongue coming out to lick it, making sure you were taking everything into your mouth. You heard a low grumble on your left, and you turned your head to see Eddie glaring at you, his jaw tense, and you were confused, looking around to see if something happened.

“Don’t play fucking dumb.” He whispered as the other three talked and browsed to get the movie on your TV. You blinked, confused at his words, but then– You looked at your thumb and then you couldn’t help but snort, catching Steve’s attention.

“What’s funny?” You cleared your throat and shook your head.

“Nothing, just something I remembered.” Eddie was still glaring at you, his insides burning as he tried to take his mind somewhere else, and try to avoid thinking about your tongue around his dick. He turned to the TV screen, crossing his arms as he huffed. You were riling him up without you knowing, a fluttering happening in the pit of your stomach knowing he was looking at you no matter what.

Your heart dropped though once you saw the intro for the horror movie coming up and you looked to your side to grab onto your blanket. It doesn’t matter if it was hot or not, but the blanket brought you comfort, and it made you feel a little bit safer. Everytime you watched horror or sad movies, you put a blanket on you, and this time was no different, placing it on top of your legs.

Nancy shot up from the floor to rush and turn off the lights, a soft chattering happening between the group as the movie started playing and she returned to sit on Robin’s lap as she cuddled up to her. You wished you could do that right now, wanting to feel secure against someone again as you watched these things, just like when you were with– Before dark clouds possessed you, you grabbed some chips and pooled them on your palm so you could eat them as the movie played.

You felt your heart beating faster than usual, afraid a jumpscare would happen sooner or later, and you definitely did not like the creepy smile this clown had. You were squinting, trying to avoid seeing most of the scenes, and then you felt your blanket moving, making you jump and look at Eddie.

“Just wanted some of this.” He moved the blanket so he could now place part of it over his own lap, sharing it with you. For some reason you felt like this was his way of making you feel safer, knowing you weren’t good with this kind of film. He could sense how uncomfortable you were, and he couldn’t help but feel bad for you. His mind went to the same memory you had of a year ago, and he now could see you just didn’t want to be left out, despite you having these kinds of reactions to movies like these.

But he couldn’t wrap his arm around you. Even if everyone accepted your relationship as friends, he didn’t know just how weird it would look to them if he did something like that. He flinched when you yourself jumped at a very small jumpscare, and Steve turned his head to look at you, remote in his hand.

“Hey, do you want to watch something else?” Your heart warmed at how he cared but you still shook your head at that, a nervous smile spreading on your lips.

“It’s just a movie, don’t worry.” He gave a nod and put the remote back down, moving his body to lay on the armchair sideways, head on an arm rest while his legs and feet dangled over the other. You could feel Eddie’s gaze on you and you turned to look at him as well. He gave a raise of eyebrows at you, a silent question if you were okay. You gave him a nod and sighed softly, your eyes returning to the screen in front of you.

The minutes went by and you noticed the movie had… gore. Too much gore in it. It wasn’t even the jumpscares that got you anymore, it was the anxious feeling of what he might do to the protagonists. Steve, Robin and Nancy were softly talking about the effects of the movie, while you were just trying to look away from the screen as much as you could because, fuck that. You didn’t care this was strawberry syrup or whatever the fuck the other three were saying, you didn’t like it.

Suddenly, you felt something creeping over your thigh and under the blanket. You flinched, thinking it was a bug, only to feel a strong grip of fingers digging into you. Your breathing stopped as you gave Eddie a quick warning glance and the bastard was eating a chip with his other hand, his eyes still trained to the screen. Your heart was beating in your throat as you felt nervousness invade you, afraid the others would notice it at all, but as you gave a subtle glance their way, their eyes were trained to the screen, still immersed in the conversation.

You weren’t even listening to them, the movie now just a background picture and noise as you stared forward, and his fingers rubbed your thigh in soft and slow circles. You felt shivers run down your entire body, electricity coursing through your veins and arteries as you tried to control your breathing, feeling it start to become quicker.

What was he doing? Why? You two were in front of everyone, and he is just touching you like this and hope they never look your way? Okay, it was nothing bad, he was just rubbing your thigh, that was all. He was just trying to distract you from the screen that was showing off great amounts of blood and guts, but you didn’t even try to comprehend why or how that happened. Maybe that was his intention, and that made you slowly relax. You have to remember Eddie is your friend, first and foremost, so it’s probably him being that friend for you right now.

But as soon as you were beginning to relax, you felt those fingers move slowly, creeping towards the inner part of your thighs. You held a breath in, the situation becoming even more dangerous than before because– You’re getting worked up. The idea of your friends being here, not knowing what had transpired between the two of you, and now sneaking touches between eachother without them finding out was… exciting.

Your legs were parted, just very little, but it was enough for him to get his fingers in between, and press against your inner thigh, making you choke a bit on your breath, but playing it off as a cough. You heard him chuckle under his breath and your head snapped to glare at him and he was already side-eying you, a cheeky smile on his lips. 

You clenched your thighs together, trapping his fingers in. You were feeling like you had to compete against him, to make him be as worked up as you were right now. He tried wiggling his fingers between your thighs but you kept him locked in there. He wasn’t complaining about it, feeling the warmth of your legs around his fingers, and he could pretend that was the same temperature as the warmth he could feel inside of you. 

But he wasn’t prepared when you moved your own hand this time, and without wasting a minute, you placed it between his parted legs, your fingers digging into his inner thigh, cutting his breath short. He was trying to keep his eyes on the screen, glancing towards his other friends just in case they moved or looked your way and his, but as soon as he looked away from you, he felt your entire palm rub against him, over his pants. He twitched, and your hand rapidly backed away as your thighs let his hand go as well and he put it back on his side.

Nancy looked over Robin’s head to talk to Eddie, “You scared Eddie?” She giggled and you snorted again, taking a chip into your mouth as Eddie felt himself burning inside out, his words coming out from gritted teeth.

“No, just had a twitch.” Oh you were going to get it after this. His fingers tingle with the need to touch you again, to keep his hand over your warm body, to pull you close and kiss you senseless to the point you couldn’t breathe anymore. He wanted to render you stupid, speechless, babbling nonsense to him and he wouldn’t be able to help himself and smile at you. 

He’s going to make sure to see that after everyone is gone.

The rest of the movie was spent in silence, and no more hand touches. You rubbed your thigh against his every now and then, to keep you distracted from the movie, or to rile him up, you didn’t know, maybe both. You were growing impatient with each minute that passed from the movie, needing to be alone with him once and for all, so when the credits started rolling up, you were so glad to the point you could sigh of relief.

“That wasn’t so bad.” Robin says as she finishes her glass of wine and Nancy gets off her lap to stand up and stretch. You clear your throat and take the blanket off your lap and Eddie’s, throwing it next to the couch and into the basket.

“I don’t know, but I ain’t watching something like that again.” You comment, leaning back on your couch as if exhausted from having to endure that film, but in all honesty, you were sighing of finally getting what you want after two excruciating hours. 

“Hey, Eds?” Steve calls out to him, and Eddie didn’t realize he was looking at the expanse of your neck, and his head snapped to look at his best friend, trying to play it off as if he had zoned out.

“Yeah?” 

“Can you take Nance and Robs back home? I need to go help Jon at the bar because one of the waiters had to leave early and he needs help closing.” 

And you felt your whole body freeze over as well as Eddie’s. Your fucking plans were ruined. He was going to leave, or maybe he could return? Or maybe he didn’t want to drive twenty minutes to leave the girls and then twenty minutes back. This was not fair.

Eddie wasn’t far behind at your thoughts, but he was being more explicit. He was cursing at everything and everyone, wanting to make up an excuse in order to stay but he knows there’s no way out of this, Nancy and Robin smiling innocently at him, batting their eyelashes so he wouldn’t be mad at them. He sighed, giving a slow nod and your body slumped in defeat. 

“Yeah, sure. You girls want to go already?” He asks, and you feel your stomach turn with disappointment, knowing you are going to be met with your pink vibrating friend in your bed instead of the actual thing you want. 

“Please? I want to go straight to bed.” Robin says as she gets up, a little wobbly thanks to the wine, and you follow right behind her, stacking the empty small bowls of snacks on the coffee table as they get ready to head out again. You turn your head over your shoulder to see Eddie looking at you with a frown in his eyebrows, and you give him a small shrug as if telling him ‘it can’t be helped’.

You wished it could be. You wished he could stay tonight, but you guess you can wait tomorrow? Or maybe he will be busy tomorrow too? You can definitely message him and ask, you just have to wait a whole 24 hours to actually know that answer. You didn’t want to wait that long. You should have fucking told him to come an hour early than all the others so you could at least have a quickie in your kitchen counter.

You wanted to groan when you felt a bit of heat in your underwear, your wetness becoming present as your imagination ran wild. You didn’t notice the man that was next to you, staring at you as if he was going to murder you, or eat you, or simply destroy you. His chest was moving a little quicker than before, signaling the sudden increase of pace of his breathing.

“Let’s go, I want to fucking sleep until next year.” You heard Nancy say and you looked towards Eddie, a frown in his face as he stared at you already. You fought off the disappointment and gave him a small shrug. It can’t be helped. It will have to be postponed to another day. You will have to hold your hunger for one more day, or a few more, and maybe you shouldn’t have to if you had messaged him two days ago.

He gave an exasperated sigh, and he held back the angry groan he wanted to let out. You walked towards the front door, opening it as Steve gave you a nod in thanks for hosting tonight as he walked out, followed by Robin, Nancy and lastly Eddie. You two held the gaze as he stepped by you, and time went slower as you felt your ears ringing, a ring that was yelling at you to somehow make him stay, but– it was too obvious if you did.

He sent a small smile your way and then time began its normal pace once again. You didn’t know you were holding a breath until you actually let it out. You popped your head out as you saw them all heading towards the elevator, waving at them one last time. Eddie raised his hand in a quick moment in response and Robin blew a kiss your way. You gave a small smile in return before hearing the elevator ding and you closed the door, a defeated sigh leaving your lips.

You felt wrong for thinking only about getting railed when most of your friends were here to have fun, to watch a movie with you, to spend time with you, and the only thing you could think of was the one person that was sitting next to you throughout the whole film. You turned towards the coffee table, walking towards it to continue cleaning only to see a pair of keys sitting next to Eddie’s glass. Your eyes widened when you saw they were his car keys, grabbing them quickly, and cursing under your breath.

“This fucking idiot!” You put your phone in the back pocket of your pants and you rushed towards your front door, opening it so you could run out to try to catch them, but you stopped on your tracks when you saw Eddie standing in front of your home. Your eyes widened as your heart stopped for a second, watching him breathing heavily. “You– You forgot–”

You couldn’t finish the sentence. His right hand grabbed onto the back of your neck while the left one held your waist, pulling you inside your apartment again and quickly turning you and slamming you against the wall next to your door, his lips clashing onto yours in a hurried manner, rough, needy and desperate.

You didn’t waste a fucking second, dropping his keys to the floor and your hands immediately clung to the back of his neck to press him more into you as you both moved your lips against eachother as if you had never tasted one another, or as if you were relapsing into a drug you were once addicted to. His tongue slipped past your lips in an instant, clashing with yours and you let him ravish you just how you wanted him to do for a week now. The hand on your waist was gripping you tightly, his hips pressing against your own and you let a groan enter his mouth which he responded with a low moan.

His hand moved from your waist towards your back in order to cup your ass, and you instinctively moved your right leg over his hip, letting him press himself right against your core. You moaned into the kiss, and he could only groan as the smacking of lips filled the room entirely. His hand went from your ass to holding your thigh against him, his pants growing tighter at each roll of the hips he does into you. The seam of your pants making the friction on your clit be simply murderous. 

His tongue danced with yours, devouring every inch and space that there could possibly be. You felt your body burning, your fingertips felt like they had embers, just sending shockwaves all over your spine. Your belly was filled with adrenaline and excitement, but it was cut short when rationality struck you for a second, making you reluctantly pull away, leaving you both breathless as he held your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze before you spoke again.

“You left your keys–”

“Yeah, I know. I did it on purpose. It was my excuse to come back here.” He gave you a soft peck on the lips before continuing. “I made them head down while I picked the keys up again.” 

You felt your heart bursting, biting your bottom lip as you looked at him, your hands still clinging to the back of his head as if your life depended on it. You didn’t want to let him go, but, by what he was saying, it seems this had to be cut short. He slowly put your leg back down, not before giving it a squeeze and then let it rest on your hip. His other hand went from the back of your neck to put his curled index finger under your chin to keep your eyes on him.

“So… you have to go?” Your eyes went to his lips and back up and back to his lips again. His breath was mixing with yours as you two remained with slightly open mouths, soft pants leaving you. He gave you a nod, a serious look in his eyes as he replied.

“I’ll take them home and come back here… do you want that?” Your thighs clenched together, your core pulsating with the prospect of him returning to you. You desperately nodded at him, pulling him down for another kiss, not understanding how you were so reluctant to not be with him just a week ago before you exploded, and now you are declaring Eddie Munson as your new favorite drug, your favorite beverage, a perfect addiction. You pulled away, but not before giving a soft bite and tug on his bottom lip, making him growl in need at you.

“Yeah… I’ll wait for you.” His hands quickly cradled your face, giving you one strong last kiss. Well, that is until he returns from dropping Robin and Nancy. He pulled away from you, giving a nod as he let go of your face and your hands dropped from holding him.

“I’ll do record time–” He bent down to pick his keys on the floor and raised himself back up, fixing himself in his pants and you salivated as you saw the prominent bulge that developed on him. “So be ready for when I come back, Peach. Don’t think I forgot how much you teased me today.” 

With that, he walked right back out of your apartment and you heard the boots walking away in your hallway and you just stood there, breathing heavily as his words processed in your brain. He would come back here and your body shook with the anticipation of what he might do to you after that small threat he gave you. You heard the elevator ding and you know he is finally going down again, your feet finally working to close the door of your apartment. 

You stared at the door and all the guilt and shame you felt before was out of the window. The only things that remained were adrenaline and excitement, your body moving, rushing towards your room to make sure everything was tidy just as you had prepared. The black lace underneath your clothes waiting to surprise him as soon as he takes the garments off. Or maybe… you can wait for him in just that. You bit your bottom lip as you started taking your blouse off, followed by your sneakers and then your pants, looking at the full body mirror in your room.

You wanted to be filthy. You wanted to be rough. For some reason, you wanted to make him remember you. Make him remember the woman that waited for him in just her lace, ready for him. The woman who could, in his words, take him all. You still don’t know why he always repeats it, but he does, and if he was being honest or not, or if they were meaningless words or not, you didn’t know, but you’ll take the compliment. You wanted him to remember you because you wanted to engrave himself in his mind. Maybe it was ego, maybe it was dignity, maybe it was you trying to show off thanks to how snarky he had been with you for a whole year.

Whatever the reason was. 

You wanted to ruin Eddie Munson.

end of chapter 19

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Taglist is closed! I will start deleting people that do not interact with my posts.

REPOSTED CAUSE MY DUMBASS DELETED IT

[grimmweepers]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ 𝓻𝔂𝓾𝓱𝓪𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓶

there was an ache in my heart when i awoke in a strange, beautiful world that wasn’t my own. even as months turned to years, i still missed the familiar skies, the voice of loved ones and the home i had left behind. i wrote letters that went nowhere and whispered silent prayers that reached no one. it was like i was plucked from my own reality and placed in a world where i didn’t quite belong.

yet, as much as i longed for home, i was determined to learn in this new life. sumeru became my sanctuary and the akademiya, my solace. i learned their languages, customs, and secrets while sharing stories of the stars, landmarks, and beauty of my own world. the scholars listened, fascinated by the similarities and differences, but none more than al-haitham—a student assigned to guide me through this foreign land. he was a quiet presence. thoughtful and curious. he did not pity me.

and over time, he went from guide to peer to something more. over time, i wasn’t just seeking knowledge but also him. but what was the point? what was the point of falling for him if one day, i could just disappear—vanish back to my world, leaving him and teyvat behind? this could slip away at any moment. this might be as fleeting as a dream.

despite all reason, i still found myself loving him deeply. in a world that wasn’t my own, he had become my home.

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬: very slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐔𝐒: 22.10.22 | playlist | genshinverse ryu | home for christmas (fic)

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐒: modern au | akademiya days | season of love | minecraft | chibi

[itspileofgoodthings]

.

[sunstainedpages]

IT'S HERE!!!! I HAVE IT!! THE NEW EMILY WILDE BOOK!!!!

I'm so fucking excited!!!

^ actually me

[theflyingfeeling]

...💇‍♀️

[dirt-str1der]

Trans kiryu is a genuinely funny hc because like trans majima is like oohh angst ohh she has to fight to be accepted she has to deal with people making fun of her for being a man in a dress she has to take into account her position and social standing and kiryu is literally just kiryu forever because the universe loves him too much to ever force him into a situation unless its to go to prison in which case hes like yayyy i love jail yayy yayyy

[abyssalpriest]

Working with Leviathan be like

Leviathan: *completely both rewrites a severe trauma trigger back into something neutral and freeing, and further reconnects me to the Sky and myself off plane and pre-incarnation in the space of 24 hours* yeah nice, anyway we should play video games now I'm tired

[novasquadron]

ANYWAY i recently got into tng and am now super obsessed with wesley (just a lil dude!! why does everyone hate him i don't get it!!) and all the Implications and Potential that his character had (and has)

like your father killed on duty, lingering resentment with the man who feels responsible for it, the same man whose words are like gospel to you, who gives you every single opportunity that you shouldn't be given, who was only persuaded to do so by a somewhat higher being who is oh so carefully crafting your life in just the right ways for Something, constantly being brought forward and pushed away, too many parent figures and only one and none, the only meaningful friendships you have are with people twice your age (they will always see you as a child), you do everything for Him, everything for His legacy (your dead father? your captain? they're so closely intermingled and so far apart), you finally reach what everyone knows you're going to do, you get into the best team in the school, you have a best friend (was he something more? do you even remember?), you kill him (it's so much more than that but the black and white is addicting), everyone hates you, He's disappointed in you, how long has it been since you could look your mother in her eyes, you want to die but that would be unfair, how dare you feel guilty, and oh look, the beings who have watched you for your whole life (they knew this would happen) want you to join them. there's never been another choice. the prodigal son always completes his duties.

[rustinsscohles]

and with that i do believe that my run with interstellar in imax has come to an end.

[honeysuckledreams]

That situation was also so weird. More under the cut because I am listening to my OC's playlist (which is fun and phenominal and it sucks that it is connected to the loss of an important relationship) and I'm in a sentimental mood.

I am usually the one to reach out and coordinate with my friends, (a skill I developed since a lot of people are bad at reaching out), which I genuinely don't mind at all! But with this friend, I noticed that when I reached out it wasn't really reciprocated? Like my texts would be ignored (even if they were heartfelt or asked about them) and my discord messages responded with nice, but closed messages, with no elaboration or invitation.

We only talked on the phone after I directly asked via discord and we set up a call. It was nice to catch up, and I am glad we at least got that much closure. I talked a little about how I had been feeling, and they clearly felt bad about it and reassured me. But they said that text was in fact their preferred communication, and they just stopped responding again. Like in the middle of our conversation about how I don't want them to only talk to me out of guilt or obligation, I want them to only talk with me if they really want to.

I took the hint, and stopped reaching out after that. I feel a bit embarrassed about how long it took me to read between the lines, but it was confusing because when asked they verbally reassured me. I sobbed for literally a week straight after our phone call and subsequent texting because I knew it was over, but I wanted to believe them so badly.

It was interesting to understand why some people have a hard time reaching out to friends though. It would suck if multiple of your friends acted like that. Especially since I had to cleanly read their behavior instead of their words, which is hard to do if you are anxious, have low-self esteem, or are emotionally attached, since all of those tend to distorts interpretations. But it is also hard to tell a friend you used to love that you don't want to be friends or talk anymore :/ So I don't blame them. I just miss them and I still love them and I wish they were apart of my life. But they seem really happy with their partner (who I also know and genuinely really like) so it seems like they are doing well. It's hard to find the space for everything you want in your life, so I can't really blame them for not having space for me, even if it makes me sad sometimes. And who knows! Maybe they will reach out in a few years and I'll talk to them. That doesn't feel true to me, but there is always a chance.

Anyway, I am going to cut myself off there. It is challenging for me to let go of people I love, but I am proud of myself for reading this situation and letting them go without forcing them into a dramatic confrontation. So that is cool.

[kisakunt]

BABY TRAP? LIKE THE MOVIE WITH THE TWINS?

description… you two are meant to be. sealed by fate, star crossed lovers. you’ll keep each other around however you need to.

warnings… dark content! baby trapping! noncon! obviously they’re being baby trapped they say something trying to stop it. consensual sex. full penetrative sex.

a word from the writer… i’ve had this in the drafts for aWHILE. it’s about time. do yall still read dc? i’ll never stop supplying… are we too woke now?!

TRAPS YOU

you’re hot under him, and he’s making that face he always makes right before he cums. it’s like repetition; eyes blanked out, mouth ajar but not fully open, brows furrowed like he’s desperate— and it’s scary.

“baby,” the word is cut in two with how fast he’s going, tease of pain as he hilts into your cervix with every thrust. “baby, you’re not wearing a condom.” your voice is uneasy, shaky from the movement and pleasure and build up. you think, in a way, the way you have sex is unfair. he gives you so much, orgasm after orgasm, rubbing your clit as he drills you to the point you go fucking stupid.

you feel safe with him. sex is sacred with him, no matter how sick it gets. but right now, with your calves pressed into his shoulders, his hands pushing your thighs impossibly back, you feel uneasy.

“baby, baby, pull out.” he gasps, sweat dripping down right near your eyes as a shaky groan escapes him.

“fuck,” a chaste kiss to your forehead, a shakiness in his movements, an unmatched rhythm as he gets closer and closer. “fuck. oh my, god. you feel so fucking good— so fuckin’ good.”

and so does he. but you’re scared.

“you’re gonna make such a good mommy, gonna be such a good mama. gonna— gonna give you my babies. gonna get you pregnant, gonna make you mine.”

“hey, wait,” your hands raise to his chest but he hits that angle that makes your eyes roll and they fall back. it feels so good you almost don’t care. “baby, baby, baby stop. baby, you gotta pull out.”

“you’re gonna be such a good mommy. gonna give you my kids. gonna give you my kids.” and it’s instant. it’s before you can even think— if you could anyway— it’s pressed so deep in you you betray yourself and cum, too.

he places his head to yours, kisses you greedy and whole, and whines into your mouth. it’s him, it’s real, it’s love. but— and you know this— it’s something so wrong.

“did you just…?” and before you can finish your question, he’s regaining his rhythm, fucking his cum into you with a half hard dick. it’s precise, it’s calculated, it’s intention.

he looks at you, eyes wide, breath heavy, and gives you a little grin. “gonna keep fucking you even when you’re pregnant, baby. gonna make sure i can keep you all to myself.”

GOJO, GETO, SUKUNA, YUJI

GETS TRAPPED

your legs hurt. you’ve been on top for all of thirty minutes, which you have no one to blame other than yourself. you love to edge him, love to get him so close and then take it all away from him. you think it gets him a little addicted.

but right now, as he squirms under you, losing every ounce of masculinity he’s ever had, something takes over you.

“gonna cum,” it’s breathless, short and sweet. “oh shit, i’m gonna cum.” you think he must think you’re edging him again. you think he’s expecting you to slow down, stop all together, pick up off him fully for ten or so seconds and then slam back down.

but you pick up the pace, grinding your hips into his, hitting his pelvic bone with your own as your hands grip at his pecs.

“wait, are you—” he falls apart under you, voice failing him, body failing him, hands only finding the strength to grip at your hips. “baby girl, i’m gonna cum.”

it’s melodic, tactile and articulate, a steady flow of bounces while your squelch fills the room.

“sweetheart, you gotta stop.” your right hand lifts from his chest to his mouth, shoving your fingers between his lips while he groans. he’s so easy to you, for you, because of you.

and then you feel it, milk it, relish in it— the way he comes undone at your touch, loses himself deep inside you. you don’t say a word about it, don’t think about it too much as you press your wet fingers to your stomach.

it’s a quiet giggle as reality washes over him. he looks cute, you can’t help but realize, panic and flushed under you. you’re sure of it then; he’s gonna be a sexy dad.

MEGUMI, NANAMI, CHOSO, TOJI

[dilf-docs]

You're a Daydream, Stay A While

joel miller x younger!reader

summary: you're jackson's designated bartender. well, your dad is, but after the arrival of a new face in town, maybe the inspiration to finally step up to your obligations kicks in.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., oral (f. receiving), fingering, foreplay (mostly breasts), creampie, breeding kink (kinda), angst/comfort, insecure!joel (love touch etcetc starved), needy!joel, pov switch mostly joel (he's down bad as well), collected shitty puns from across the internet like thanos collected the infinity stones

word count: 6,136 words

side note: yk what's worst than simping for old men? simping for old men who don't exist. since y'all know, tlou II trailer dropped, which got me searching for joel's ***** to brace/prepare myself. umm so, why did no one tell me jackson!joel is the hottest thing ever? can´t wait to see pedro being senior citizen level of hot and dying (again) on his bday month! 😍 anyway, this is based on this request and well, yes! i too would flirt with an old ass if he looked like that™ hope u like it bc for some reason I'm not sure of it JSJDLKDFK also 400 followers GUYS STOP (pls don't) IT'S TOO MUCH (give me more) HELP!=="))??! (that i do need tysm)

The truth is simple: you hate working.

An apocalypse later, you figure there are more important things. But on Jackson, it feels like the world before fungus and violence, and everyone's got a role to play. As the daughter of Tipsy Bison's owner, yours is to help around the bar, something no matter how much your dad scolds you, you don't seem to care enough to even do a decent job.

Of course, it could be worse: patroling, keeping the cattle or crops, but not even then you're moved enough to give a shit about it.

Enter Joel Miller.

He, who made sure his arrival in Jackson didn't go unnoticed, making heads turn at it, not only because of his emotional reunion with Tommy, the little girl with him, or the fact that he left yet still returned. But also (mainly to you) because he was hot. Very hot.

Joel was the type of handsome that was rough in the edges, his closed-off demeanor and overall mystery adding to the thrill. His face seemed to be in a perpetual state of grief and darkness, sprinkled with grey and wrinkles, that in your opinion, didn't mean about age but just something that made his features all the more attractive.

It was a lie to say there weren't any boys your age in Jackson, good-looking too, yet you felt yourself gravitate towards Joel's musky presence. Yes, he could be your dad, but again, it's the apocalypse, and there are plenty of things to worry about than some age gap.

That doesn't stop the talking, anyway. It may be the end of the world, but gossip is just like cockroaches: it never dies.

The Tipsy Bison owner's daughter is in love with Tommy's older, much older, brother.

It didn't bother you, thought. You were pretty open about it, giving Jackson more to talk. Whenever Joel arrived at the bar, all heads would turn in your direction, ready for the shameless flirting and compliments you showered the oldest Miller in.

Maria had warned you, of course. She was the closest you had to a friend―sometimes being like a big sister, and she seemed to know what he was up to before, at the QZ in Boston, thanks to Tommy. Safe to say, you didn't care, despite listening to every word she had said.

Joel could break your heart, yet in a dying world, you weren't afraid to live.

Which is why now, as he enters the bar, you offer your dad to take his place.

"Go rest, I'll take this client" you offer with kindness, but he knows better. You're his daughter: in the end of the day, he's aware Joel is here, your shift in attitude warning him about Miller's incoming presence.

"If you will take this client, take the rest too" and before your dad can throw a speech about everyone being equal in Jackson, you're accepting to do the job properly, despite your grumbling and lack of interest to anyone who isn't Joel.

"Joel" you greet as soon as he sits, one of the many flirty smiles you have for him only adorning your face. He nods, avoiding your eyes that look at him like he could give you the world. He can't, so he keeps focused on the glass you're pouring in front of him.

"See? Didn't even need to ask. I already know" you seem proud of it, and the ghost of a smile brushes his lips.

"Well" he raises the glass, "it's an easy drink"

You feign hurt, "is that how you treat your bartender? I could poison your drink" Joel now truly smiles, knowing you could never, "or I could just strip you of your my favorite customer rights"

Now he feigns hurt, playing along for the first time in ever.

"Copied" he raises his arms in surrender, not before taking a gulp. You watch hypnotized the way his adam's apple bobs, the liquid sliding down his throat until it looses itself in the peak his two buttons undone give, of what looks to be a broad soft upper body, blessed with a patch of greying messy hair.

"Have they ever complimented you before, Joel?"

You. He refrains from answering, scared as to where little encouraging had led you and your shameless mouth to. He can feel the rest of the people behind him whispering, holes burning his neck. He can't let you win again: make him seem a pathetic excuse of a man who can't say no to a sweet doe-eyed delusional girl.

But you don't stop, despite his silence and the growing pit on your stomach.

"I'll take that as a no. Wanna know why?" he takes a much needed sip, "because all the good pick-up lines are taken"

This he can handle, Joel thinks. It's silly, proper of your age-

"But you aren't"

Ah, of course. Hasn't he learned?

You have the nerve to laugh, free as a wind chime softly carresed by the wind. His face burns, and even thought he's heard plenty of worse from you ("No pen, no paper but you still draw my attention", "Well, here I am. What are your other two wishes?" "You must be a dog person because you look fetching"), nothing had affected him this much.

Which is why he tries to pull the mask that had accompanied him since he first knew what grief was, so no feeling would ever made him weak again in a world hardened with pain. He's so good at it, wearing it like a second skin that doesn't scrub off no matter how much he wastes Jackson's water supply away, he sometimes sees the way your face is crestfallen at his indifference.

But you're young and stubborn, as so was he, before all the suffering and broken dreams.

So you won't listen to the past or doubts: the moment he stepped a foot into the community, you knew it was over, beating so loud you could barely hear your own breathing or him, when Maria introduced you and he shook your hand with his much bigger one.

"Joel" he'd said, with the sexiest voice you'd ever heard. His hands were covered in gloves, but despite that and the cold winter, the warmth that pooled from his palms had spread across your cheeks and chest. It had taken you a while to realize you hadn't said anything.

"Y/n" you hate the way your voice sounded small.

He nods, a way of saying Nice to meet you in his withdrawn nature. Then walks away, with Tommy and the girl, who looks curiously at you, Joel completely oblivious of how he's just turned your world upside down.

"Welcome to the museum!" you had said.

He tilted his head in confusion, Ellie's stare intense. "I thought this' Jackson?"

"This is a museum, because you're a work of art"

The tip of his ears instantly reddened, and the laugh Ellie was containing bursted like a bottle of champagne.

"Look at you, old man!" she laughed at him, making you wonder their relationship and how closer they seemed to be, despite initial assumptions. "Can't believe a girl gets the big, grumpy, scary Miller to blush like a boy"

You think that's the reason behind his apathy towards you, barely reacting to your pick-up lines or "subtle" flirting. It's probably not a reason as childish as that, but you'd rather be wrong than accept he may never feel the same way you do.

Because for a moment, despite the times you lived in, life made sense.

So no matter the stares, Joel's guarded posture and lack of reciprocation, you'll always be there, waiting: riding the roller coaster, enjoying the high.

The speed brings you closer, even if that means you'll crash.

Unfortunately for Joel, he knows who you are.

He's not even ten patrolling jobs closer to owning a bottle of whiskey of his own (he thinks earning it is bullshit, hasn't he done already enough?), so he's forced to go to the only place where he can get it.

And of course, there's you: a name and face he couldn't place upon his arrival, even if you had introduced yourself with your shitty line (which made him blush and Ellie laugh, so maybe it was a grudge what made him bent on removing you from his head) yet now is ingraned into his mind.

He doesn't know what's worst: your flirting or the fact that you seemed genuine about it. Or maybe it's the fact that he can tell you apart from the rest now, with a face full of life, always ready to give him your best smile and serve his glass the way he likes.

He needs to be the bigger person in this mess and stop it, Joel thinks. He isn't one to care about the talking, years of being brutal hiding any possible feeling that isn't rage. But then Ellie smuggled her way in his life, he found Tommy again, and Jackson was a reminder of old days when he would allow himself to feel anything else. So, in a way, he's become a bit susceptible to the talking behind his back.

How could he entertain a girl that could be his daughter? hushed, behind his stool. But then your fingers brush "accidentally", and his dick twitches between his legs when you bite your lip, pronouncing a Sorry like no one has said before: a tone so low and sultry, he's convinced wasn't even possible. Then you bat your eyelashes, and laugh (a sound both as delightful as addictive) before you're saying: "Don't mind them. They're just jealous you've got all my attention" and for a brief second, Joel let's himself believe he's special and worth of your time.

It's now a while since he's been there in Jackson, slowly settling into a life that doesn't involve running and fear.

If he thought your little crush was a phase, he's wrong.

You're still giving him time.

He's not supposed to get attached to you, Ellie, Tommy and Maria (future nephew in the way) more than enough. But then, when he's alone in a house too big for two people, Joel misses the way your loud voice fills the eerie silence that's followed him since death has been tracking his every step. Or how your interest on his life doesn't seem an act, listening to every word he says with tender eyes and soft smile, sometimes even making the effort of bringing things he's said before into new conversations; remembering. His heart flutter at your compliments, no matter how dumb they are, probably because he's not used to that stuff. As he lays awake at night, brain clogged with wounds too deep to bear, he finds comfort in things he has a feeling he's too old to get worked up about.

"Joel" you had said one day. God, he loved his name on your lips. The way you say it so sure, as if you'd follow him wherever he'd go.

He coughs. "Yeah?" and you smile, because at least he's looking in your direction.

"The chance of meeting a person like you is the only reason I talk to strangers"

The way your tone was straight, not flinching or faltering scared him. How something akin to sincerity dancing in the sparkles of your eyes, that now seemed to waver not out of whimsy but out of vulnerability, perfectly hidden in what could pass as another one of your attempts to woo him, but Joel's lived and seen enough to know it means much more.

So now, whenever there's darkness, he finds light on replaying those small moments on his head.

Dear God. What's he become? Ellie can't find out or he'll never hear the end of it.

But this things you don't know. All you see is a wall, and you're getting tired of hitting it.

The few words he spares your way are now a punishment you endure, cruel reminder that it's all you'll ever get.

Could you be in love forever? Could you even love?

It was a new feeling. Foreign, in fields of inexperience, but familiars in others. You may have never felt it, but the way your beat was steady when he showed up, worn out boots against the wood creaking under his weight, makes you believe when you know, you know.

"Hello, Joel" your father greets before you speak. Today, no matter how much you tried to shoo him away, he stayed.

You send a small smile his way, but he doesn't return it. You feel small, like a kid, undeserving of his attention. There's a bit of relief knowing your dad's there, so you let him take Joel for you.

There's always a first, and when both your dad and Joel notice, the latter feels a little sting on his chest.

But he's caused this, he thinks. It's what he wanted, after all: for you to stop chasing a man with scars in and out, bearing sins and blood where you had innocence and love.

"We're having a party tonight" he comments, making Joel quirk an eyebrow as he sips.

He gives you a brief glimpse, lost in the curve of your ass in those tight jeans, you giving him your back. He dryly scoffs on instinct at your deliberate choice to ignore him.

"Why's that?"

"My daughter's birthday"

He sees your body tense in the corner of his eye, wiping the glass in your hand with a bit too much force.

"Happy birthday" Joel speaks up, and you mutter a weak Thanks.

That's all he gets? No smile, no looking his way. Just a dry thank you that sounds more like something he would say.

Oh.

Was this how you felt?

"Time sure flies by" your dad sighs nostalgic, completely oblivious to the whole thing. "I feel if it was yesterday we came home from the hospital with you"

You smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes, despite the obvious adoration for your dad.

"Don't get sappy on me" you sound embarrassed.

"I don't care. Twenty-one years later and an apocalypse in the mix, you're still my baby"

"Dad!" your cheeks heat up, and Joel almost forgets he's there, his body back to life when your face goes back to its normal color and happiness.

"Which means" your dad goes back to Joel, "you're invited"

Your laughter dies and Joel's chest tightens.

"You need to stop saying that. All Jackson is invited" you respond, making him flinch. The bite is obvious.

You're not special, is what you try to say in between lines.

"I'll be there" tone daring, and your father feels something has shifted in the air.

You don't answer after that. What are you supposed to say? Don't come? I hate you for making me feel small? He doesn't owe you anything, but it still hurts.

"It's at seven" there's a sharp edge to your tone when looking at him.

"I'll be there" he repeats, still, but it sounds more like who he really is trying to convince is himself.

Joel is there, as promised. You don't know why, but after what happened earlier, for the first time ever, seeing him brings you dread.

He catches you in a corner, sipping on some drink.

"Hi" it's soft, the tone new, and it doesn't help the pit in your stomach.

"Hey"

"Why are you here?" he's curious., "ain't this supposed to be your party?"

It's funny, really. The way everyone else mingles around you, laugh and talk, yet here you are, bitter inside the shadows of your corner.

You raise your glass and chuckle dryly. "Well, cheers to that"

"You shouldn't be here" he insists, and you roll your eyes. Then, his voice goes soft. "Is... Is this because of me?"

You scoff, venom falling out of your bitter laugh. "Wow, big ego you got there. Newsflash: the world doesn't revolve around you"

He's so used to your pinning, it's hard to bear the change.

"I wasn't saying that, I just-"

"Please don't" you cut him off. "Don't ruin my birthday more than you already have, thanks"

You decide to walk away, but Joel won't let you.

"I don't want that" he insists, blocking your steps. "I want you to be happy"

"Don't bullshit me" your tone is icy, cutting like daggers. "Please, leave me alone"

"Not until you're fine"

You scoff at his incomprehensible behavior.

"Oh, now you care? Drop the act; you're just angry I'm not stroking your ego anymore like a lovesick puppy. Truth is, you don't owe me anything, Joel"

He looks like you've slapped him across his face.

"I know" his voice darkens, filled with tension. "But-"

You get tired at Joel's sudden insistence, overwhelming you with confusion. This is the same guy that has uttered less than fifty words your way, indifferent to your flirting and special treatment. Of course, it may have been a little silly of you to expect so much from a guy older even than your dad, but his apathy was borderline rude, and that you can't excuse. Or understand. Or let go.

So yes, you're being petty. And yes, it also feels good to have him begging to have your attention, the roles reversed.

"But what, Joel? Is there anything you can say, really? It's not that serious" you empty the glass in a chug, feeling dizzy. "Live a little and stop being so obssesed with me"

He shoots you a look hard to decipher. There is hurt: from all the emotions available, he chose the one thing you didn't think he'd be capable of feeling. Hell, he looked rather more like the cause than the affected on the other end. But then auburn fires flash behind his eyes, and the circle repeats itself, the danger and rage Maria warned you about.

"Obssesed with you?" his eyes carry a wild light in them. "If anyone is obssesed, well, it ain't me"

"I need air" you push past him, done with his shit.

"I'm sorry-"

The cold wind hits your face as you storm outside the bar. Is this a lesson to be learnt? Was this how heartbreak felt? The only thing you know is you need to get the farthest you can, even if your footsteps feel heavy with the weight of the snowed streets and frigidness of your heart.

"Y/n, wait!"

You turn around. Unbelievable: Joel Miller is running after you.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Joel?!" you shout, "why can't you just leave me alone?!"

"Because I-"

"There's nothing for you to say" you counter, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "If this is some sort of guilt thing, I need you to let it go. What I did- I mean, you should probably forget about the whole thing. It's my fault, and I'm sorry my reaction is immature and what not, but I should've known to read the signs. You're simply not interested in a girl who hasn't truly lived or known what pain is"

After you confession, you hear a laugh. You raise your eyes, anger and hurt flashing in tears.

"And you have the nerve to fucking laugh?! Fuck you, Joel" you want to walk away to save yourself from further embarrasment yet your feet seem to be stuck.

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm not interested?" you roll your eyes, but he pins you by your shoulders, as if knowing you'd walk away. "Listen, I need you to know somethin': I'm not who you think I am"

"I don't care" you interrupt, defiant. "You're right, I don't know who you are. But I want to. Who you where outside this walls... It doesn't matter, not to me. You did what you had to do to survive, and that brought you here. Jackson... think of it as a second chance. You can still be happy, you know?"

With me, dies in your throat, not wanting to give more of yourself away.

"It's better this way" Joel insists, "hell, you'll even thank me one day. There's plenty of young boys here who'd love to be with you, trust me"

"I don't want them, Joel. What's so hard to understand?" what makes you get closer to him, you don't know, but in a sudden rush of force, you find the courage to look at him, body standing still as you exhale, fears condense in the air. "I only want you"

"You don't" you should roll your eyes again at his stubborn character, but his voice comes out so small, almost as if resignated, that it tugs your chest.

"I do" you reply firmly, cupping his cheek with tender care. He leans in your touch, despite it revealing his true desires when it comes to you.

"Why me?" Joel whispers, bigger hand covering yours, as to prove it's real and the warmth isn't a joke. "Why not a younger, charmin', happy boy your age? Why a broken violent older man?"

His voice breaks after the admission, quietly seeping into heavy silence that falls like the snowflakes in his hair.

"Joel" you call his name softly, making those sad brown eyes look at you. You gulp, nervous at the storm of emotions inside them, "is it so hard to believe you can be loved?"

Your words make him falter, his grip loosing strength as he tumbles back.

"Love?" he repeats with disbelief, as if you'd just say some kind of tale. "There isn't love in this world left for me. Men like me don't deserve good things, especially if they comin' from a pretty girl as yourself"

You shouldn't be blushing at times like this, but the maroon splash on your cheeks betrays you, warm as the drink from before and red as the dim lights casted by Jackson's Christmas tree in the middle of the town.

"Joel" you call again, and he's surprised you're still there. That you hadn't turn your back on him, or looked into his eyes and saw the monster in him, running away to never come back.

"If you let me" you hold his hands to steady him even as they tremble, "I could"

I could love you.

The promise hangs unspoken in the air, the wind now barely above a humming.

"You'd take me" his voice falters, "with all I've done, knowing I've hurted people?" Killed people, but he can't bring himself to say it when you look at him like that: like he could learn to love you.

"Yes" your voice doesn't waver a bit, "every part of you"

"And you'd take me knowin' that I'm years ahead in hurt, age and life?"

"Yes, Joel" you giggle. "Are you making me do an exam on your life? Because that's not fair, you've barely spoken to me, or anyone else for the matter!"

He chuckles, shaking his head.

"I s'ppose life ain't fair, sometimes"

"But it could be" the moonlight of the now clear sky shines over your eyes, and Joel is sure that the stars would be jealous.

"It could" he repeats, as to believe it himself.

Silence settles again, but it doesn't feel suffocating anymore.

"You know, we should probably get inside"

You dissmiss his words. "Nobody has even noticed we're gone"

"What about the cake?"

Your chest feels warm at his concern. He may not believe it, but the old-world Joel, the one who was a contractor in Texas and had a daughter, is still there, somewhere.

"Jackson is real, but miracles not" you laugh, "we don't have those. The party really is just an excuse for dad to drink with his friends during labor hours"

"And yours?" Joel inquires, "where your friends at?"

"Left early" then you lean to his ear, hot where skin meets cold. "I told them to"

He tries, but all words die on his throat.

"Wanna know why I did it?" your fingers wander to his tense jawline, tracing your sharp nails until they descent to his neck, sprinkled with loose hairs from his beard.

"Why?" voice barely above a whisper, his cock painfully hard between his legs. That you don't know: just the glint of dark on his hazel eyes.

"Why don't we find out?" and your hand takes his to lead the way. When he doesn't move, you try other way.

"I'm the birthday girl" you tease softly, but your orbs sparkle with something akin to dangerous. "You better make it up to me"

You've walked this road so many times, yet it's never felt longer.

The house is alone, you'd say, and Joel followed you because well, he'd follow you anywhere. He notices you said 'house', an indicator you still live with your parents. He wonders if you're embarrased, but by the way you smile, inviting him inside, to a part of you intimate and unknown until today, he knows he's chosen right.

When you open the door, cold creeps in through the cracks of warmth. You lead the way to your room, and once you're inside, he thinks it's very you.

"Very me?" you giggle, taking a seat in the bed. Joel watches from the doorframe, his bulky arms crossed. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's cute" and you think it's not a frequent word in his vocabulary, thanks to the pink dusting his cheeks.

"I'm cute?" you repeat delighted, and the shade of pink turns darker.

He just nods, avoiding your gaze.

"Joel" you call, then pat the spot next to you "why are you so far away? Are you scared?"

He grumbles something under his breath before walking over to where you showed. The bed creaks under his weight, and now that he's closer, you hear the wavering beat of his heart and ragged breaths.

"You are scared" you repeat, a statement now. He thinks you're mocking him, until your sure hand grabs his. "It's okay"

Before he can add on that, your face is too close, your breath tickling over his nose. He feels the moist of your lips press over the brigde of it, with a tenderness that brings ghosts of tears he has since long shade to his eyes.

Then they smoothly move to catch him in a kiss. He lets out a shaky gasp against your mouth, letting himself loose on the whiskey drops inside, an intoxicating mix against his own. His hands find your waist, gripping the soft skin with calloused fingers, refusing to leave it. He squeezes your curves while infiltrating your mouth with his tongue, until he pulls to breath, making you whine.

"Fuck, sweetheart" he nips your lower lip, "ain't you the sweetest thin' to ever exist?"

The kiss gets more heated, his hands now traveling to your face as they hold onto you for support, rough digits meeting peachy skin. Just the mere act of kissing makes him groan against you, too old to be shameful about the needy sounds coming out of his mouth.

"Joel" you whimper his name. He stops and takes the time to bore his gaze over your flushed face, your own dazed eyes mirroring his.

His fingers find their way to your hips again, pulling you closer. The moment caughts you and the bed off guard, the furniture creaking while your eyes move to the hardness visible on his worn-out jeans. You move your head to free your mouth to talk, but that doesn't stop Joel, who hungrily kisses the trace of your jaw and the road starting in your neck and finishing on your collarbones.

"Is that because of me?" Joel whines against your lips, yet you can't stop staring at the very big silhouette. "Oh, happy birthday to me"

Joel whines when you tear way from him, his hands loosing grasp on your body. You move up against the headboard, spreading your legs for him to put himself in between them.

You take off your clothes, and his eyes don't leave your body as if it's a show for him. He can drool at the sight of your breasts, rosy skin waiting for his tongue and teeth to sink on it. He leans closer, eyes looming at moles he could beg to kiss.

Now you, your expectant eyes plea. Joel's posture adquires a guarded air, as he grows self-conscious.

"Stop staring at me like that" he nervously chuckles.

"Is there something wrong?" your sweet voice inquires, laced with concern. He gulps, kind of afraid and embarrased of what you would say.

"I'm..." his voice comes out strained, "I just-"

His mind briefly wanders to Tess, how she never said anything, rather busy seeking the warmth of his body without commenting about it. The act mattered over the feelings, which where in her eyes but not his heart. But now, his heart beats in a different sound, one where he wishes you won't judge a body crossed with the roughness of scars yet the softness of extra weight.

"M' just warnin' you, doll" the nickname brings butterflies in your stomach, "this body's seen better days"

He removes the layers of clothing: flannel first, and then tight white long sleeved shirt. He's left in his jeans, unbuckling his belt that falls to the floor with a thud. His breathing turns to panting, afraid to meet you in the eye.

"Joel" you repeat his name, bringing him back to reality. "Look at me"

He's killed people, faced raiders as much as infected, and other countless things, so he dares himself to look up, breath hitching when he finds you eating him with your eyes.

"Fuck, Joel. I didn't know you were so pretty under those dirty ass flannels"

You knew he'd be handsome; that's literally the reason why you chose to flirt with him. But now that he's completely stripped off his layers of warm clothing, it's even better. You can't stop your hungry eyes from roaming his body, lingering on the soft swell of his stomach, hanging over the waistband of his underwear. A scar that looks deep is near his belly button, and you wonder if he'll ever tell you why. There's a patch of hair over his soft chest your tongue wants to lick. And of course, his strong arms packed with broad shoulders that make you want to scream.

"Stop lying" he chastises, but there's a smile adorning his features. A true smile on Joel fucking Miller's face. What a rare sight; you need to see it more.

"W-where your condoms?" he asks, nervous.

That catches you off guard, too busy cooing over how a man so big and sturdy could fold that easily, looking and sounding small.

"I'm not sure. I mean, maybe on my parents room but I-"

You cut yourself. Joel's concerned gaze finds you. "Yes?"

"I want you, Joel" the intensity of your stare terrifies him. "All of you"

He falls closer to you, forehead against your own. He can't bring himself to look at you, so he closes his eyes and dares to ask:

"Are you sure you want this?"

Are you sure you want me?

"Don't you trust me?" you're all smiles, even if your voice is soft. "I want you. I truly do"

He's hiding his face into your shoulder until you feel his lips pressing against your now bare skin, making you shiver.

"Where you want me, birthday girl?" he says between kisses. "Tell me, sweetheart. I'm all ears"

"Please, Joel" you unhook your bra, letting your breasts free. His lips begin to kiss his way to your breasts, tongue teasing the skin before nipping it. Joel's teeth catch the hardened nipple, grazing it lightly.

"S'pretty" he sounds drunk, and you love the way he looses himself in the pleasure haze.

He continues kissing your breasts before positioning himself right so he can hover above you. The kisses turn wet and sloppier, as if all his energy was to be spent into the rosy skin.

"Can I taste you, sweetheart?" he lowers his head to your entrance, already soaking wet with your arousal. "Fuck me, if this ain't a meal"

"The best in all Jackson" you joke, but the laugh dies in your throat when Joel's nose ghosts over your throbbing pussy.

"I- fuck, Joel" you moan when he licks your folds, his tongue an expert. For a brief moment, you think of who came before you, and if this is what they got or you're getting the best version. His saliva mixes with your dripping juices, making you whine as his tongue licks your swollen folds. His fingers then slowly inserted themselves inside at the same time, moving in and out of your puffy walls. His groans mix with the sound of your whines and the furniture creaking, the sounds obscene and feeling so far from the outside world.

"You're so good at this, baby" his sweat mixes with the blush on his face because of the nickname, nose pressed against your clit as he keeps up the ministrations. "D-don't stop"

"This pussy's so pretty" he says, "and s'only for me, yeah?"

"Yes, Joel. Only yours" you whine, your orgasm approaching. All of your body feels on fire, every touch inching the burn in your stomach closer as his head remains between your legs, tongue insatiable. You come all over his face, your hands digging into his damp locks as you scream his name to the air.

Joel raises his head to capture your lips on a wet kiss, the taste of you inside your mouth and dripping from his coated beard.

"Ain't you sweet" you open your legs further. "You're such a tease, sweetheart. Gon'be the death of me"

"I just like seeing you like this" you admit.

"Means?"

"So fucking needy"

A borderline primal grumble births from his throat. "You've a filthy mouth on you, sweetheart" he chuckles while wrapping your legs around his waist and lining himself up. Joel's tip runs up and down your folds, grazing your clit long enough to make you gasp.

"And you're s'fuckin' tight" he mumbles under his breath. You gasp for air as you try to adjust yourself to the huge size of his girth, afraid you bit more than what you can chew. His pace starts slow but gradually picks up a rougher and quicker pace. Joel grunts between thrusts, yet takes his time to make sure his lips kiss every mole sprinkled across your face and chest, his favorite just above your left eyebrow.

"I want ya' to come first, like a present" blush crosses through his face again. He leaves teasing kisses against your face, as you wail, finally hitting you.

"I'll wait for you" you whisper, your hips aiding you to sustain his sloppy thrusts, "want you to come too. Inside"

You feel his softening dick twitch, suddenly rock hard again. Oh, so he was into that.

"Don't worry, I have a pill" you explain. "So go ahead, pretty boy. Show me if the size matches the talk"

"Bet" his voice acquires a darkness to it. "Gonna fill you with all of it, until you milk my cock dry. Gonna fill this pretty pussy until it's full of my seed and it leaks for days"

He follows right after, groaning into your shoulder, where he bits the skin. His tongue wets the area, to relief the pain, yet you like it. Thick ropes of cum paint your puffy heat creamy, Joel panting as he stares down at you.

"What?" you chuckle.

Maybe Jackson was a safe haven. Heaven incarnate. Maybe second chances were real, and for the first time in years, he feels safe.

"I don't deserve you" he voices his thoughts, forehead pressed against yours as he tries to even his breathing, yet each breath seems more labored than the last.

Your hands travel to his face, cupping it with tender hands. He leans on the touch, because despite his crimes and past dawning upon him, he's a man: one seeking comfort on a pretty face and anything that'll remind him of distant emotions that can still exist despite what the world has become. Joel's hands travel to yours, thumb brushing skin free of scars and pain. He envies and loves the beauty in your face, eyes full of something akin to affection looking back, blurring the pain mirrored on his own. You kiss him again, and he can feel the emotions in the tip of your tongue.

"You're wrong" your voice holds a quiet determination. Time was a precious gift, but in Jackson, time could be, and the resolve longing tells him you'll be there. I'm not going anywhere, Joel. Not without you. "We all deserve love, Joel"

Joel Miller is a man who finds it hard to trust, yet, when he takes a look at your eyes―warm as coffee, he allows himself to believe in you.

[teaboot]

Sometimes at work it's not my place to tell people the things I want to say, and I find I often go home at the end of the rougher days to stand blankly in my shower and tell myself over and over what I wish I could pass on.

This accomplishes very little, and mostly just gives me a tension headache, but through it all I think I've narrowed myself down to a few solid things I'd like to tell people the most.

You can't change people. Not permanently, not for anythig. You can support them, encourage them, love them, give them tools and opportunities and resources, but you can't make them change. They can change themselves if they want to, but they have to want to, and they have to want it for themselves, because they're the only one that's certain to be with them forever.

For better or worse, you make your own choices, and blaming bad choices on others doesn't only work to absolve you of responsibility- it also robs you of control. Because if you say you only did something because I did something, then you arent only shifting blame- you're admitting that you cannot control yourself, that you cannot truly make choices for yourself, that other people can control you- and as long as you truly beleive that, you'll keep facing the same problems over and over. You'll keep letting others dictate your choices, because you'll beleive that they can, and you'll never be free.

White knights on horseback are from fairytales. Nobody can help you if ou're not willing to help yourself. To try, to put the dirty work in, to belive you're worth that effort- Act as though nobody is coming to save you. From a struggle, from pain, from bad relationships, from yourself. And when you do save yourself, because you will, because failure here isn't an option if you want to survive, you'll never find another dragon that can keep you prisoner.

Don't say anything to anyone that you wouldn't want them remembering forever.

Doing the right thing in bad circumstances is hard. It's the hardest thing. But if you make the choice to do that hard thing anyways, despite your fear, you'll go on the rest of your like knowing that you're the sort of person who did something.

The present only seems the hardest because the past I over and the future hasn't happened.

There's so much joy ahead of you, the kind you can't possibly understand until you see it yourself.

The responsibility of consequences is often disguised as the power of permission. "I won't do this if you help me", "I'll work on my anger if you do this for me", "I promised you I'd quit, but can I have just one?". The unspoken question is, "Can it be your fault if this goes badly?"

You cant make someone love you the way you need to be loved. Someone can love you very much and still be bad for you, even if you love them very much in return. Two people can love each other very, very much, and try their very best, and still be wrong for each other.

Sometimes being near to someone changes you, even in good ways, and the people you become don't fit together as well as the people you were.

Caring takes work. Even if it's real. Especially if it's real. And the most important gestures aren't the grand, poetic, songs-and-flowers-and-tears moments; they're getting out of bed even though you don't want to. Paying attention to things you don't enjoy. Scrubbing pans, or opening a window, saying "thank-you", or helping carry groceries into the house. The small things fill the big things- without the small, boring, mediocre things, big things feel hollow.

Thrre is honour and dignity in humble work.

If you are a cruel and spiteful person, then you will find every place you visit to be full of the same cruel, spiteful people. This is not because the world is as cruel as you, but because everywhere you are, you will be disliked. This is the curse that comes with being persistently cruel and spiteful.

If you are a kind and ppsitive person, you will repeatedly encounter kind and positive people, because as they grow familiar with you, they will be happier to have you near. This is the reward of being a kind and positive person.

When splitting paths with loved ones, briefly or forever, aim for your last words to always be "I love you".

[lesservillain]

baby daddy!eddie x mom!reader

cw: smut, non established relationship, best friend!eddie as well, idiots in love

wc: 3.8k

Closing the door as gently as he could, Eddie tip toed down the hall of the trailer and rounded into the kitchen to get himself a beer. He’d played hard enough with Autumn that she could barely keep her eyes open through her bath, but that also meant he wore himself out in the process. So after cracking open a can, he plops his ass down and turns on the TV, ready to chill until he passes out on the couch.

Well, that was the plan. Just as he got comfortable, there was a small knock on the trailer door. With a frustrated sigh, Eddie jumps back up, mumbling something about people coming to his house so late at night.

“Listen, I’ve told you all I don’t fucking deal anymore—Woah!”

Instead of some annoying kids looking for weed, Eddie was met with your sniffling nose and tear stained cheeks. He immediately went into best friend mode, wrapping you in a big hug and letting you get those emotions out.

After some crying and a soaked shoulder later, you finally peel yourself away from Eddie and attempted to talk, but only babbling came out.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Eddie says, thumbs rubbing the tops of your shoulders. “Just calm down and tell me what happened? Did someone hurt you?”

You shook your head, doing your best to compose yourself.

“He-he-he g-got mar-married,” you hiccup out.

Eddie blinks at you. He knows exactly what you were talking about. Dustin told him back when that Harrington met a girl about 6 months ago and apparently they hit it off right away. The last thing he wanted to do was tell you about her considering your long time pining for him Especially considering he’s the reason Harrington would never ask you out. But you ended up finding out on your own, and devastated couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt.

It seemed soon in Eddie’s opinion, granted he would marry you tomorrow if you would say yes. When Dustin told him that he was going to be the best man that the wedding, Eddie had mixed feelings. He knew that it would kill you when you found out. That you’d react exactly as you were now.

Actually, you’re doing a little better than he anticipated.

“He came into the store and,” you blew your nose into the toilet paper he grabbed for you, “and I saw the ring on his finger when he was getting his money out of his wallet.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie says, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close.

“They haven’t even known each other that long! He’s such an idiot…”

“I’ve been trying to tell you that,” Eddie jokes, rolling his eyes.

“Oh god, what if--do you think it’s because she’s pregnant?”

Eddie’s pretty sure Dustin would have told him if that was the reason why, but it’s not an unreasonable guess.

“I don’t know, could be? Or maybe Steve Harrington is just an idiot like you said. And maybe they’ll be divorced by this time next year. Who knows, right?”

You sighed, leaning into Eddie and resting your head against him. “I don’t even know why I’m so upset. He was never going to ask me out anyway. No one wants a young single mom. Steve has his whole life to do what he wants, why would he be with someone who has so much baggage?”

“Hey, don’t say that about Audy,” Eddie scolds.

“No, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant,” you correct, “I was talking about myself. I’d never be with someone who didn’t accept Autumn. Even Steve Harrington. I just…I’m damaged goods, Eddie.”

Eddie could feel himself getting upset but didn’t want to make things worse right now, so he took a few breathes to steady himself. He said your name sternly, pulling your full attention to him.

“I don’t like it when you say things like that. It makes me feel like it’s my fault--”

“Eddie,” you stop him before he can get another word out, “You know that you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve told you before that if I was going to get pregnant right out of high school with anyone that I wouldn’t want it to be with anyone else but you.”

Eddie knows this, and he feels the same. But it’s not what he wants.

Even though it was all a total accident, he hoped that night the two of you spent together was going to be the next step for both of you. And even though he was scared after you told him with tears in your eyes then that he had gotten you pregnant, he wished with all his might that it would bring the two of you closer together.

Which it did in a way. Obviously the two of you would be bound together for the rest of your lives, but it wasn’t in the way he wanted. You still were head over heels for Steve, and there was no way Eddie could even compare to the king.

“Yeah…I know.” He says somberly. Your brows pinch, making him worried he should have said something else.

Then your expression changed. You looked at him intensely for a moment, before your eyes became lidded and…were you leaning in?

Eddie thought fast, making a quick decision to put his hand over your mouth, stopping you in your tracks. Your eyes go wide as dinner plates, tears perching on your waterline as what hot embarrassment washes over you.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, suddenly regretting everything. This could have been his chance and he was an idiot.

You pull his hand from his mouth, sitting in silence for a moment before you begin to laugh. It catches Eddie off guard and he freezes.

“Eddie, I should be the one apologizing,” you say with giggles. “I’m the one who was stupid enough to try and kiss her best friend for a second time. We both know what happened the first time and the last thing we need is history to repeat itself.”

Eddie still felt conflicted. Your tone wasn’t sitting right with him, like there was some level of self depreciation in your words.

After a moment you stop laughing. Your face warps into worry as you stand from the couch.

“I-I need to go—“

“No, wait!” Eddie stands to grab your wrist before you could run away. He pulls you into him and hugs you tightly to him. You stand still before slowly wrapping your arms around him, gripping his shirt in your hands.

“Listen, I know you’re going through a lot emotionally right now, but…I’m here for whatever you need. Even if…” He trails off for a moment, knowing that he’s just going to hurt himself if he lets you use him. But he can’t turn you away when you need him. He’d rather you take advantage of his feelings than run off to someone else who would hook up with you without second thought.

“Even if it means crossing a boundary that we’ve already crossed before.”

Eddie feels you press into him harder, face buried in his chest. And when you look up at him, Eddie thinks he could melt into a puddle and let you mold him to however you’d like.

“I don’t think I should make any rash decisions right now,” you say with a sniffle. “I think I just need to clear my head. Let myself rot in my own misery instead of dumping it all on you.”

“Or,” Eddie says with a smile, “you could rot with me. I rented some movies and some beers in the fridge that have your name on them. I think we have some leftover pizza still, too.”

Your smile was so bright it was comparable to the sun rising. There was nothing in the world that could keep him down as long as you were happy. Eddie probably would have dropped out of school after his second failure if you hadn’t simply smiled at him and told him that he would graduate next year, for sure. He probably only did because you smiled at him every time he got a good grade.

The way you hugged him for a long time after a report card with no F’s on it kept Eddie’s head in the zone that last school year. And, well, the way your body felt under his when he finally graduated…

Eddie shook his head, wracking his brain for anything to keep his mind from thinking about that night right now. There’s no way him getting a boner while you were still holding on to him so tight would be good.

“I think that sounds like a good idea,” you finally say after staring up at him for several beats. But Eddie caught the somber look in your eyes. It was going to take a lot of distracting to get you in a good head space.

“You know, I think we might still have some popcorn, too.”

After a few drinks, some weed, and a movie and a half later, Eddie finds himself waking up on his couch at some point after falling asleep. The bright, staticy screen causes him to squint his eyes, turning his head enough to bump his chin against the top of your head.

Eddie looks down at where you’re leaning into his side. He vaguely remembers wrapping an arm around you before the two of you had succumbed to sleep. It pains him to possibly wake you but the urge to pee is what startled him awake in the first place, so he does his best to untangle himself from you and sneaks to the bathroom.

On the way back to the couch, Eddie decided to stop in his room and grab a blanket for the two of you. But when he returns, he finds you sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Hey,” you croak out, looking at him with squinted eyes.

“Hey,” he whispers back. “I brought us a blanket.”

You stretch before standing up from the couch. “I should probably head home, Eddie.”

“Sweetheart its,” he leans to check the time on the microwave, “3 in the morning.”

Your eyes go wide, hands running over your face. “It is? Fuuuuck.”

“Just stay,” Eddie says, walking over to you and wrapping you up in the blanket. You groan, feeling conflicted on if you should stay and sleep on Eddie’s couch or if you should brave the drive home.

“Hey, if you stay, you don’t have to drive all the way over here to get Fae in the morning.”

“Ugh, okay you got me,” you say, giving in. You sit back down on the couch and start to make yourself comfortable.

“Wait, you can sleep in my bed. Promise I don’t bite.”

That took less convincing as you pop back up, dragging the blankets behind you as you wobble to Eddie’s room. Eddie laughs as you plop into his bed, stealing one of his pillows to make yourself comfortable.

“Hey save some room for me,” he says, walking around to the other side to climb in. He lays next to you, adjusting in an obnoxious manner that has you giggling. You turn to face him and he does the same.

“I love you,” you say at the tail end of a giggle. It’s something said frequently between the two of you. Genuine as it’s spoken after years of friendship.

“Love you, too,” Eddie says with a sigh. Sleep soon takes you both over again. The only sounds that can be heard is the sound of the a/c doing its best to cool down the trailer.

Eddie felt himself waking once again, this time much more comfortably in his own bed. He yawned, shaking a bit as the feeling of waking overcame his body.

The sun peaking through the cracks of his curtains gave the room just enough light that he could see the room with a slight glow. Turning his head, he chanced to see if you were still laying with him. He had a dream that you’d left with Autumn and ran away with Steve that left a sick feeling in his stomach.

Much to his delight you were indeed still occupying the bed with him. Smiling wide as you looked at him, already awake where you lay.

“Mornin’,” he says in his morning voice, and your eyes flicker.

“Morning,” you squeak back. As Eddie turns to face you, your hand finds its way out from under the covers and reaches out towards him. Your fingers gently glide across his cheek, rubbing against the stubble as you push his hair out of his face.

The way you’re looking at him has Eddie’s tummy feeling funny, but in a different way from his dream. You’re looking at him the same way he looks at you.

Suddenly, you push yourself up on your arm, hand still on his cheek as you start to lean in once again. Eddie’s heart beats hard against his chest as you close the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting his in a soft kiss.

It lasts a few moments, and Eddie melts into it. It was a kiss like none he’s ever had before. Not even compared to the last time the two of you kissed before Autumn was born. This kiss felt like a hot cup of coffee on a cold winter morning, the warmth spreading to every part of his body as he drank you in.

When you pulled away, Eddie chased after you, not wanting it to end so soon unknowing if it would ever happen again. When you don’t kiss him again, his eyes finally open to meet yours. They’re bouncing everywhere, scanning his face as if looking for an answer written on his skin.

“Eddie…”

But Eddie doesn’t let you ponder much longer, hand snaking around your head to pull you into him once more. This time more feverishly, the heat palpable between the two of you.

You shift so that you can bury your hands in his hair, and Eddie takes advantage of this to move himself above you. Eddie kisses you into the pillow beneath you, long kisses turning into passionate smacking, poking the fire that was burning between you.

“Tell me to stop,” Eddie says as his lips begin to move down your cheek and to your neck. He says your name breathily, “Tell me now, because I won't be able to stop once this starts.”

“I-I can’t. I won’t,” you stutter, hands grabbing at his waist as he kisses and nips at your neck. Eddie breathes against you, body alight knowing that you wanted this as much as him.

“But,” you say, stopping him in his tracks. You give him a coy smile, nodding towards the door. “You better make it quick. You know she’ll wake up at any moment.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, “Don’t gotta tell me twice. Better get to work then.”

Eddie suddenly lifts the blanket above the both of you and disappears underneath it. Soft kisses leave a trail from your knees to the apex between them. Eddie slips his fingers in the hem of the sleep pants he let you borrow, pulling them down with your panties in one quick motion. There was barely any light to see, so he decided to just dive in tongue first.

He ate you out like a man starved. Your thighs try hard to wrap around him as he works you up on his tongue, but his strong arms hold you open for him. Eddie groans at the way your fingers grip his hair, tugging just enough to burn so good against his scalp.

Once he added fingers, you had to cover your mouth with your hand to keep yourself quiet. It was like Eddie knew exactly what you liked, because not long after you were coming undone, riding his face as you did.

Eddie crawls up your body, head resting between your breasts as he pokes out from under the covers.

“Jesus, Eddie,” you pant, looking at him in awe.

“And that’s not even the best part,” he teases, making you roll your eyes at him. You grab his face and bring him closer to you, tasting yourself on his lips as you kiss him again.

Eddie rolls his hips subconsciously, and you can feel how hard he is as he grinds against you. You want to say you also forgot how big he was, but it’s something you didn’t want to admit you thought about often.

Your hand travels between you, fingers trailing against his skin as you reach the hem of his boxers. Slipping under it, you feel your way to his hard cock, taking it in your hand to pump him. He whines against your lips, hips moving faster in your grip. You watch with awe struck eyes as his beautiful face contorts in pleasure above you.

“Please,” he pants out as he fucks your hand, “Wanna be inside you. Can I?”

You nod silently, unbelievably turned on by your best friend for the second time now.

He works fast pulling his boxers off quickly, a loud thwaping coming from his cock smacking against his stomach after getting caught on the waistband. Your eyes go wide as you take in his size.

After almost 2 years you’re still shocked at what Eddie Munson is packing. Those dumb ass cheerleaders that picked the bone head jocks over him have no idea what they missed out on.

Eddie settled himself between your legs, spitting on his own cock to get it good and wet before rubbing it in your soaked folds. You had a moment of clarity, realizing that Eddie wasn’t wearing a condom. You opened your mouth to speak, but your words got caught up in a moan as Eddie pushed his way inside of you.

The stretch took your breath away. Eddie seesawed his way into your tight cunt, opening you up on his cock until he was balls deep inside of you. He placed his hands on either hip and started moving, holding you tight as he worked up his pace.

Every thrust felt like too much and not enough at the same time. The constant knocking against your sweet spot had you seeing stars quickly, still worked up from him eating you out. The pretty sounds that Eddie was making wasn’t helping either, but you still had enough mind to shush him so that he wouldn’t wake your daughter.

Eddie’s pace quickens, and he makes the fatal mistake of adding his thumb to the mix. It only throttles you to the edge for a second time this morning. It’s not much longer before your vision goes white, toes curling as your orgasm takes over. It's probably the hardest you’ve cum in a long time.

“Oh, fuck.”

You barely registered Eddie’s words, but you definitely felt the reason behind his curses. Eddie was cumming deep inside you, balls emptying into your pussy as you were still riding out your own orgasm.

In the moment it felt amazing, but the post orgasm bliss left you crashing as you realized the very real situation you were both in.

Eddie felt himself being pushed by you, taking him out of his own high as he stumbled back on his ass. As you open your mouth to speak, Eddie is hit with a wave of deja vu with every word.

“Did you fucking cum in me?” The words came out in slow motion and Eddie’s body broke out in cold sweat.

“I-I’m sorry. I was going to pull out, I just—“

“What? You forgot? Are you kidding me Eddie? Do you not remember what happened the last time?”

Right on cue, your daughter's whines could be heard from across the hall. You sigh, kicking the covers completely away from you and grabbing the pajama pants you had back on.

“Listen, I really am sorry,” Eddie says, looking at you with big, sad eyes. You groan, unable to stay mad at him when he looks at you like that.

“What are we going to do then, Eddie?” You ask him, walking out of his bedroom to get your daughter.

Eddie sits on the bed for a moment and thinks. He knows that you getting pregnant again while Autumn’s only and a half isn't ideal. Not that you being pregnant is ideal anyway, but honestly Eddie wouldn’t be mad about it.

He was so head over heels for both you and Autumn that he doesn’t hate the idea of another person to love is the worst thing. But he’s also not the one doing all the hard work. And if it wasn’t obvious the first time that having a kid wouldn’t fix any problems, then having a second would probably not make much of a difference in your feelings towards him.

The door opens again and Eddie watches as you enter with a squealing toddler on your hip, clearly happy to see both mommy and daddy.

“Morning, sweet girl,” Eddie cooes, scooping his baby up and smothering her with kisses, sending Autumn into a fit of giggles.

“I went ahead and changed her. If you want to dress her I’ll make breakfast.”

Eddie gave you a quick salute as you went to the kitchen, leaving him and your mini me to get ready for the day. It took a lot of wrestling but he was able to get the little one dressed, including hair done, and looking presentable for the day.

Fixing her up in her highchair, Eddie sat at the small kitchen table and breathed a sigh of relief. You shook your head at his theatrics, setting breakfast down for the both of them.

“Hey, I was thinking,” Eddie said, spooning some applesauce into Autumn’s mouth. “After we eat, why don’t I follow you to the pharmacy and we can pick you up a Plan B?”

You quirk an eyebrow in amusement. “You have Plan B money this time?”

“Ha ha,” Eddie laughs dryly at your reference to the last time you had sex, the both of you freaking out over having no money. Thankfully Eddie was able to get a good job at Hawkins Auto Body when you got pregnant. He makes pretty good money now considering he was able to get his own trailer. Money is still tight, but he can manage.

“Fine, better eat up then, or else you’re gonna have two mouths to feed instead of one.”

Eddie looks at your daughter, spitting image of him, besides your nose, and smiles. Maybe now isn’t the right time, but…maybe one day.