#gossip: tommy chang

[notjustjavierpena]

(Mid)summer Loving

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Yes, based on that new picture. I’ll call this my first contribution to getting railed in a sundress season. 

Summary: The last two years of being with Joel has transformed the both of you. Mostly him. For the better. 

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, joel’s kink is being loved and appreciated, long haired joel!!!, healthy joel, established relationship, piv sex, size kink (it's big), rough, loud and desperate sex, dirty talk, praise kink, creampie, railed in a sundress season contribution, they are so soft for each other, bit of aftercare. 

Word count: 3.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55988128

(Mid)summer Loving

It happens when you hear him through the crowd of people in the community center. Your head whips in his direction, your eyes settling on the crinkles around his eyes as he laughs at something Tommy has said to him. He swirls the whiskey in his glass and downs it with slight difficulty because he is still smiling. 

You are only a table away, sitting with some of the women from your patrol group who gossip about potential suitors in the room, especially amongst the newcomers. However, you don’t really pay attention to what is being said because the love of your life sits across from you. It makes you able to admire him, struck by his transformation since he first came to Jackson and barged into your life. Your heart is so soft for him. 

The most obvious change is the hair. It’s gotten longer, the ends curling slightly in a way that softens his otherwise rugged appearance of big leather boots and tripled layered clothing. He used to have it shorter, and while you loved its fluffy bounce on top of his head whenever it was caught in the wind, it doesn’t compare to how it now frames his face by just brushing his collar in the back. It may be a subtle shift to others but to you, it means that Joel is more at ease with who and where he is, and that he has allowed change to find him.

His beard, too, has filled out. It is now thick and even, not at all the patchy scruff that you noticed the first time he talked to you by the rag pile in the trading center. He’d searched for fabric that could be used for shining the creations that he makes when seeking respite in wood carving. You had noticed the patch that resembled a heart first, your own heart skipping a beat as you forced yourself not to point it out to him immediately. That patch is gone but you’ll spend no time mourning it when the result is Joel looking healthier than ever, almost as if his body has responded to happiness with you by filling in all the gaps that heartbreak had left. 

Then there’s his face. It glows, despite his age, with a newfound youth, the signs of weariness and stress of years lived too hard it once bore completely wiped away. When you first met him, your heart had ached for his tired eyes, bags underneath them revealing all the sleepless nights and the burdens that he carried. The way they shine when they look into yours has your heart at ease and you can only hope he feels the same. 

Around you, the women keep chatting, talking animatedly and giggling while you sip your drink and stay silent until they are nothing but a low hum in the background. 

You only snap out of it when your name is said out loud. You furrow your brow, “Sorry?”

“I said that you don’t have to worry about things like this,” one of them chirps happily, “You already got your man.”

“Guess not, guess you’re right,” you chuckle softly and start to feel shy. You have never been one to be glaringly obvious in your happiness to the point where you display it at every opportunity but then Joel came along. He may worry about the gap of years between the two of you, often feeling undeserving of your love and attention but you only wish that he could see himself from your point of view. To you, he is everything. He doesn’t see how his presence calms and grounds you, how he makes you feel safe even in a world beyond repair. In his embrace, you feel even the biggest of anxieties and the worst of your challenges shrink into nothing. All he has to do is put his gentle, calloused hands on you and talk to you in that familiar southern drawl, and then your mind quiets down instantaneously.

However, if not his hands or his voice, his loving gaze also seems to do the trick. He suddenly turns his head in your direction, catching your eyes, and the sound of the lively conversations from each table mutes to nothing. He smiles at you and mouths a ‘you okay?’ at you. 

‘Save me’ you decide to mouth back at him, making a face to see him smile with amusement. He slaps his brother’s back before putting both hands on the table to push himself to stand. You didn’t think he would take it seriously but just the sight of seeing him approach you makes you want to go home with him. 

“Ready to go, honey?” He asks when he reaches your table, placing a hand on your shoulder and gently squeezing. 

“Hi Joel,” your friend group says in unison.

“Ladies,” he nods and they giggle like schoolgirls, “Gotta get this one home.”

You shake your head with a little smile at their reaction. Then you swing your legs over the side of the chair. Joel helps you up and a moment after having said your goodnights, you leave together like you’ve done for a few years now. 

Outside, people are scattered across the town square where a huge bonfire has been erected in the spot where the Christmas tree usually stands. Today is the annual midsummer celebration. Jackson is decorated with bundles of flowers that have replaced the painted eggs that tell people it is Easter. You smile at the memory of Ellie having been forced to join in on getting people in the spirit of Easter which had resulted in you trying to guess which of the eggs hanging from the sky had been crafted by the angry teen. You had decided that it might’ve been the one painted completely black.

Now, bright colors from nature hover above your head instead as you make your way down the main road. Joel holds your hand all the way home. He strokes the back of it with his thumb, feeling no pressure to fill up the silence between you as it has reached a point where it is comfortable. 

When you reach your shared house, Joel stops you by the front door instead of opening it for you in the gentlemanly way he always does. He stands in front of you, the porch light softening his features as he gazes at you.

“You seemed a bit distracted with your friends tonight,” he notes, “Is everythin’ alright?” 

“Just thinking about how lucky I am,” you answer with a smile, your voice sincere, “To have you.”

“I’m the lucky one, baby,” Joel huffs out a little laugh of disbelief, trying to brush off how flattered he always feels each time you say things like this. He gathers your hand in both of his, lifting it to kiss the back of it a few times, “Best fuckin’ thing that ever happened after the world ended.” 

“Don’t let Ellie hear that,” you tease gently. In your chest, your heart hammers against your ribs from being loved by him. 

“I’d never dream of it,” he steps closer with his eyes burning to get closer to you. You see them darken slightly as desire fills them and your heart jumps into your throat at the realization of what he wants. 

You. 

He wants you. 

That’s the one thing that has also changed since you met him; he has become much more untameable when he has you around. Who knew that his stamina was so impressive? Who knew that Joel Miller getting a confession of love - whether it consisted of the actual words or simply was said in your actions - would have him dragging you to somewhere private as soon as possible? 

“I love you, Joel Miller,” you say dreamily, pulling the trigger, “To the day that I die.”

And then suddenly Joel rips the door open so roughly that you’re afraid it might come off its hinges, pulls you inside along with him and slams it shut behind the both of you afterward. He locks it without hesitation, not about to be interrupted by any of your neighbors even if it’s most likely that everyone is out and about the town to be social. 

You are pressed up against the door next, his broad hands resting on your hips as he holds you against it. He bunches up the skirt of your sundress, groping your sides on top of the fabric, and you sling an arm around his back. Your other arm reaches up so you can cup the back of his head, your fingers sliding into the hair there. He has the perfect length for pulling these days - you should know - but you’ll wait for the right moment. 

His lips nearly bruise yours with how hard he kisses you, beard scratching your skin as he practically eats at your mouth to the point where your head swims and your belly swirls with hours of suppressed desire. You need him now, already soaked through your underwear and ready for him to be inside of you.

“Fuck me,” you whine against his lips, heart beating rapidly in your chest. So much that your breathing is already uneven, “Please, Joel, please.”

“S’alright, baby, I know whatcha need,” he rasps as his lips messily start descending on your chin, all the way across your jaw until his mouth attaches to your throat. You let your head bump against the door with a breathy moan, giving him access to bruise your neck too. He creates a purple mark that you will try to hide tomorrow during patrol to avoid interrogation on how Joel Miller is in bed. Only you can know. 

Your skirt falls down the slight amount it has been pulled up when Joel goes to unbuckle his leather belt. The noise of the metal sends a shiver through you, anticipation rising to your cheeks by heating them up underneath no touch. You look down to see the belt hanging open, him shoving the denim down around his thighs afterward and following up with his briefs too. 

The sight of his cock makes your mouth water. He is fully hard already, standing into the air at full attention and threatening to smear your pretty dress with his precome by poking into your belly if he dares get closer. You moan pathetically and he shushes you gently. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he soothes you like he would a child that has scraped their knee. He curls his fingers in the fabric of your dress once more before hiking it up along your thighs until he can stuff the bottom of the skirt into the top of your dress, effectively holding it up so it doesn’t fall down over your soaked panties again. 

You grab at the sides of your underwear to shimmy out of them but Joel doesn’t exercise enough patience to wait for you to step out of them, so he hooks his fingers into the front. He finds your eyes when he feels how wet the cotton fabric is, doesn’t directly say anything about it but just shows you how full-blown his pupils are at the realization. Without warning, he yanks your panties to the side. 

Satisfied with his work, he makes you gasp as he bends his knees to reach down and splay his strong hands on the back of your thighs. He lifts you off the ground and wraps you around him, pressing his knee into the door to hold you up while guiding his throbbing cock into you. You moan desperately at the initial sting, brows furrowing with slight pain as he sheaths himself inside of you to the hilt. 

“Oh my God,” you whimper, letting his name fall from your lips in a helpless chant as he pulses from how your walls choke him as you strain to take him like you always do in the beginning. He might just split you open right here in the hallway when he starts fucking you. 

“Shh, you can take it,” he whispers with the most brutally gentle peck on your zipped lips, “It’s okay. She knows it’s big, baby, but she can take it. I always fuck ya real good, don’t I?” 

You nod helplessly, and fuck you, he does. It’s fast and hard and dirty. The poor wooden door rattles alongside the jingle of his belt buckle with each slam of his hips, the doorknob painfully gnawing into your lower back, and you fear the fabric of your underwear will snap from the strain that is put on it as it sits to the side. Sometimes you think you might even cut a hole in some of your pairs with how often Joel, still two years later, rushes to get his cock into you. There’s something oddly satisfying and offensive about just being able to bend over and let him see that all he has to do is push in. 

“That’s it, look at me, baby, such a good girl f’me,” he praises to get you back to him, not here to lose your attention to the way his cock feels inside of your tight heat. Your eyes settle on him again, your mouth hanging open to elicit pathetic gasps each time he knocks the wind out of you by driving his hips up into you and effectively pounding your g-spot. His face is so close to you; you can feel his breath and share it with him, can study every little imperfection in the form of tiny scars and dark lines that you hadn’t been able to see earlier from your seat a few tables over. 

“Joel,” you pant, digging your heels into the small of his back, clinging on desperately and angling your hips as he has his way with you. The slight adjustment has him going deeper, touching something inside of you that ignites the first sparks of an orgasm. Your nails claw, dig and scratch at his back in ways that would have been enough to draw blood if he wasn’t wearing a shirt, “Fuck, baby! Don’t— ngh, don’t stop.”

“You feel so good,” he replies with a groan, most likely powering through the exhaustion and strain on his body to make you feel even better. He is everywhere on you, his hands on your thighs, gripping and squeezing. He is everywhere in you too, his cock twitching inside of you each time you cry his name.

“I’m—“ you sob.

“Let go, baby, I can feel ya,” he growls when you dance around the edge of your orgasm because your fingers on both hands tangle into his beautifully chocolate hair, yanking harshly as impending pleasure knocks the breath out of your lungs. Your skin burns, your whole system halts and goes into overdrive at the same time until all you can do is shout silently at the ceiling. Your walls clench in mind-altering ecstasy then and your quietness is over, replaced by a relieved whine as you come on his dick. It is intense from how fast you’ve gotten there since he entered you, your body writhing as it is held against the wall. He fucks you through it, has you wailing as he chases his own high. 

You cradle his head during his last few thrusts, feeling his damp breath against your shoulder as he buries himself inside of your spent cunt and comes hard. It feels so good when he groans as he fills you up, the sound vibrating through his entire body. You whimper at the ceiling with the way he pulses deliciously with each breathy moan until he has no more to give you. 

He leans all his weight into you as he comes down again, holding you in place with his chest against yours to make sure that you won’t fall down and drag him with you. He gives you a moment and places a string of lazy kisses on your lips until he slips out of you with a soft sound. 

Carefully, he places you back down on the floor and eyes you as he does it to be certain you won’t collapse. He moves off of you when it feels safe to do so. 

“I say it back?” He asks as he leans against the door with you. Automatically, you tilt your head towards him. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, turning his head a second later to fully look at your disheveled state. You have a hand on your chest to calm your breathing but it still matches your fluttering heartbeat. He still aches between your legs.

You look back at him, awaiting his words with short breaths, “Say what?”

He makes a gesture to the both of you, “Before what we just did happened. I tell ya that I love you too?” 

“No?” Your reply is almost a question. 

“Shame on me,” he smiles and turns his whole body so that he faces you completely, shoulder against the door. His eyes soften as he reaches out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his touch is nice when the sweat has started to cool you down, and you lean into his palm, feeling the roughness of his calloused skin against you. 

“Shame on me, indeed,” he murmurs, eyes on your slightly open mouth, “Because I do love ya. More than I can understand sometimes.”

“You don’t have to say it back every time, Joel. I know,” you try to brush off how much your body and mind buzz at the same time. 

He shakes his head slightly, his eyes never leaving your mouth, “No, I do needa say it. You deserve to hear it. I love you.”

You nod and reach to hold his wrist when he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your open mouth. Just a few minutes ago, the now-careful hands had been rough on your skin and his words had dripped with sin.

“Now, how ‘bout I take you to bed?” He asks and pulls your dress’ skirt out of the top, watching it tumble down and fall back into place around your knees. 

While you wait for him to get dressed again, fatigue seems to finally have caught up with you because you feel like you might collapse in your hallway at that suggestion. When it’s safe to do so, you let yourself fall into his arms and he catches you without hesitation. 

He scoops you up, goes upstairs with you in his arms, undresses you, washes you down with a warm flannel, and gets you into bed. You curl up on your side and after a while, after hearing his boots come off and the shuffling of clothes, the bed dips from his weight. 

The warmth of his body against your back lulls you to sleep. Oh, how simply he loves you. Forever doesn’t seem like a lot to ask for.

.

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[alchemistc]

"Well, that's just undignified," says a familiar voice to the little girl she's been watching run the gamut of making Park Friends for the last three minutes. She runs straight into his legs and raises her arms, and it looks automatic, the way he swings her up and wipes at her face with a wet wipe he just whipped out of a back pocket. "How is anyone gonna recognize you the next time we come to this park?"

(Abby had watched her reach down and streak a solid line of mud down both cheeks a minute and a half ago and just been thankful that she'd missed those years, with Sam's kids.)

He's the same. He's - entirely different.

The smile on his face reaches his eyes in a way she's never seen, and some of the lines around his mouth are deeper. He holds himself differently and she can't pinpoint exactly what it is. He looks settled in his skin.

Of all the parks in all of LA, she thinks to herself, and then she remembers their friend Gertie telling her about the house Tommy had bought that most of them had assumed was a cry for help. A real fixer-upper, she'd said, an ironic lilt to her voice, a wry half smile because she'd gotten Abby in the divorce. As it were.

(Hadn't stopped her from gossiping like a bored housewife about Abby and Buck, eighteen months later, but at least she'd been able to spot Gertie's handiwork when she'd fielded no less than nine concerned texts about her himbo.)

It's a beautiful day. A little breezy, but the sun is warm, the sky is free of clouds.

It feels a little ridiculous that she's here to catch up with one ex only to encounter the one who'd sent her straight into his arms. It had made sense at the time. She'd given herself the time to get over a man who could never have loved her the way either of them wanted to, and then latched on to the first boyishly handsome one she could find. She'd never meant to care for Buck, in the end. It'd happened, because he was easy to love, but -

She'd just never meant to.

Sam's gonna laugh at her so long she's gonna smother him with a hotel pillow.

She sees him first, long legs clambering out of a newer model Jeep, the bronze in his hair catching in a way she doesn't remember. It takes her a second to realize he'd always just kept his hair too short for the curls to be this pronounced.

Abby's a married woman. She loves Sam dearly. She's also well aware that there's no harm in looking, sometimes, and she's certainly looking now. He'd looked more bulky the last time she'd seen him, filling out his shirt in a way that Abby knew he had to be proud of, as insane as his workouts were, as weird as his diet trends always seemed. This is different. More. His shoulders are insane. The long legs actually look almost proportional with his thighs so thick. She can see a newer tattoo peeking out from under the shirt he wears. The style's changed too, she notes empirically - a tee-shirt that's not actually tearing at the seams to contain him, a flannel he's shrugging out of to tie around his waist.

He glances up and catches her eye and the smile that stretches across his face is friendly, unbothered. Still beautiful enough to turn a few heads in her direction when he holds up a hand to wave.

"Daddy!" screams the girl, now sans mud, and Abby watches in confusion as she books it across the cork path of the playground, beelining it towards Buck.

Buck holds a hand out at groin height and grunts when all her weight catches him at the knees.

The rest of the picture pieces together slowly, while Abby attempts to keep her jaw from falling open. Tommy ambles after the girl, casual, smiling, and when he gets there he dips a hand into the riot of curls atop her head, ruffling. He slides a hand to Buck's waist, casual, comfortable, the same way Sam taps at her hip when he wants a kiss. Buck's hand lifts briefly to Tommy's elbow before he bends to greet the girl, and even though they're farther away now it's obvious she's giving him a full rundown of what he's missed.

When Buck can get a word in edgewise, he tips his head towards Abby, and the girl spins on her heel and practically marches over to the bench in the shade Abby has chosen.

Buck and Tommy follow after her as a unit.

"Hi!" She's all Buck. Fat cheeks and gangly limbs and sky blue eyes, enthusiasm leaking out of every pore. "I'm Mary!"

Tommy's grandmothers name. She'd never had a full picture why she was the only member of his family Tommy spoke of fondly - not til the end, anyway.

She's desperate to know why the hell Buck hadn't said something to her about this in advance, but - no, it's too crazy to just take on faith. She'd have needed to see it.

They have matching rings on their left hands.

Abby is suddenly sorry she deactivated her Facebook years ago.

She hasn't spoken to Gertie in three years. She's absolutely going to eat this up.

Abby reaches out to shake Mary's already extended hand. It's a firm shake - up, down, squeeze and drop, something she remembers from the time Tommy had helped her prep for job interviews and become exasperated by her limp noodle arms.

Buck and Tommy loom over her. They don't mean to. Both of them have a good way of putting people at ease about their size pretty quickly, and it happens now, again, as Tommy shifts his weight and Buck leans down and in to drop a hand to his daughter's shoulder. Tommy and Buck, she thinks to herself. Buck and Tommy.

It's not hard to square, if she really takes a moment. They were both desperately lonely people, when she knew them, but so so full of love. Too full, even when one of them hadn't even been attracted to her. It's leaking out of them even now, as Tommy gives her a wry smile and Buck rubs a hand behind his neck.

It takes Abby a second to clock it as a Tommy gesture. "Hi," she says in greeting, and then dissolves into laughter a second later.

Mary joins in even though there's no way she understands why.

"The ambush was Evan's idea," Tommy intones, the smile still warm and uncareful around the edges of his eyes, when Abby finally gets herself under control. Mary has already returned to treating Tommy like a jungle gym. Abby quirks a brow at the name, shoots a look at Buck. He smiles back bashfully, blissfully unaware of the way he blooms under Tommy's gaze

"I didn't think you'd believe me."

Mary's knee knocks uncomfortably close to Tommy's groin as he swings her back and forth on one massive arm, and he barely blinks, though he does shift his weight again to limit the possibility of another limb taking him out. Abby stands. Hands out hugs. Despite how rambunctious she is with Tommy, Mary is careful to keep herself in check while Abby is in the direct path of her limbs.

"It's easier to believe than you might think," she tells Buck, and wonders if Gertie would be more or less inclined to forgive Tommy knowing that he and Abby have essentially the same type.

"You wanna grab a drink?" Buck asks after a moment, hand reaching casually for Tommy's hip. "There's a spot around the corner that makes a mean oolong. That's your drink, right?"

God. He really hasn't changed a bit. Memory for useless but meaningful detail, an open heart, that overeager tilt to his smile. Tommy's got a yapping kid half hanging off his belt loop and he still has the fortitude to send a glance at Buck like he's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

If she's gonna reach out to Gertie, she'll need to be prepared for the Spanish Inquisition. This is a full interrogation piece of gossip.

"I'd love that," she says, and Buck's grin splits at the seams while Mary and Tommy have a friendly if heated back and forth about what sort of drink Mary is allowed.

[xgryffinwhore]

Grapevine

Summary: Flirty reader x Johnny. Reader is newly single and johnny gets the nerve to ask out his long-time crush.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff

Word Count: 7.9k

The Cobra Kai dojo pulsed with energy. The sharp thud of fists hitting pads blended with the sound of rock music blaring from a small stereo in the corner. Johnny Lawrence wiped the sweat from his brow, tossing his hair back as he turned to his buddies.

"Bobby, turn that up!" Johnny called out, motioning toward the stereo. His friends chuckled as Bobby cranked the volume, and the beat of Def Leppard’s "Rock of Ages" filled the room.

Johnny hit the bag a few more times, but his focus started to drift. Between drills, he caught a glimpse out the window. Across the street, sitting on the curb with her friends, was her.

He watched as she laughed, casually licking an ice cream cone. She was gorgeous—usually with a boyfriend who was some hotshot on the football team.

Johnny's jaw clenched as he landed another punch. "You're staring again," Tommy called out, smirking as he took off his gloves. He'd noticed how Johnny's attention always drifted when she was nearby.

Johnny rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. "Yeah, so?"

Tommy tossed his gloves onto the bench and leaned against the wall, lowering his voice. "Heard something interesting, though." Johnny raised an eyebrow, only half-interested. “What if I told you she might not have a boyfriend anymore?”

Johnny's eyebrows shot up, turning his full attention to Tommy. He feigned indifference, but his heart thumped in his chest. The thought that she was single now made a flicker of hope spark within him.

"What makes you think that?" he asked, trying to maintain a neutral tone. He focused on unwrapping his boxing gloves to cover his growing curiosity.

Tommy laughs, he can tell Johnny is hooked on his story. “Well— apparently they’ve been broken up since last month. Guess he got drunk and never went to her birthday or something” Tommy shrugged “That’s what I heard from her friend Amy.”

Johnny's knuckles whitened as he balled his free hand into a fist involuntarily. Hearing that the guy she had been dating had blown off her birthday fueled a strange mix of anger and satisfaction in him.

"No way," he muttered, his voice catching on his words. He had been aware of her boyfriend and their seemingly perfect relationship, but the idea that she was single now was nearly too good to be true.

Tommy nodded “Yeah man, she was totally pissed about it, Amy said she threw all of his clothes in the ocean, and got her landline changed so he’d stop calling.” The other boys come around to listen, hearing the newest gossip. 

Johnny's eyes widened as the tale unfolded. It was hard to hide his growing excitement, especially now that he had an audience. He could picture her, fiery and livid, tossing her ex's belongings into the waves. The idea that she was passionate and feisty only added to her appeal.

“The hot ones are always the hardest to let go” Dutch whistles “Poor guy” he added, sarcastically. 

Johnny snorted, rolling his eyes as Dutch spoke. "Yeah, poor guy," he echoed, his voice filled with sarcasm. Though his words mirrored the sentiment, the last thing he felt like doing was having pity on her ex. In fact, he enjoyed the thought of him miserable, especially now that he had the chance to swoop in.

Bobby nudged him “Dude you’ve had the hots for her since, like forever. You should make a move.”

A mixture of hope and anxiety churned inside of Johnny as he considered Bobby's words. He'd spent so much time on the sidelines, watching her with other boys, that the thought of finally having a chance felt both thrilling and terrifying.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. "I don’t know, man," he said, stalling. He cast a sidelong glance out the window again. She was still there, giggling with her friends, seemingly unaware of his internal struggle.

The newest Van Halen booms over the speakers as the boys try to hype him up. “Come on man, you know chicks love the Gi” Dutch gestures to the karate attire they’re all wearing. “Not as much as they love you eating dirt, Dutch” Tommy flies into Ditches side with a side kick, knocking Dutch oven. 

Johnny laughed at Dutch’s expense, the small interaction a helpful distraction from his nervous thoughts. He could picture her swooning over him in his signature Gi. The thought was almost laughable considering his history with girls.

Dutch grumbled getting to his feet. “Hey man, I’m just saying— chicks dig the uniform, you know I’m right!”

The guys laugh as Dutch attempts to defend himself. As the conversation continues, Bobby throws an arm around Johnny’s shoulder’s and gives him a reassuring smirk. 

“Look man, you don’t gotta ask her out today, but at least go talk to her. You have to try or you’re gonna miss your shot.”

“She’s a smoke show, once word gets out, the flocks gonna come” Tommy reasons. 

Johnny’s stomach churned at the thought of other guys flocking to her, but he knew the guys had a point. Letting this opportunity slip away would be a mistake. He exhaled slowly, steadying himself before he spoke.

“Okay,” he finally agreed, “I’ll go talk to her. But I swear, if any of you tag along I’ll kick all your asses.”

“She’s all yours, guy” Jimmy smiles cheekily. 

Johnny rolled his eyes at Jimmy’s comment. He could always count on his friends to be a pain in his ass. But deep down, he was thankful for their support—even if it was laced with sarcasm.

He took a moment to adjust his Gi, running a hand through his hair and straightening his headband. He exhaled deeply, readying himself to make the short trek across the road to her.

She sat with her friends, sipping a soda, as they looked at the newest edition of teen beat with Micheal J Fox as the centerfold. “He’s so dreamy” cooed her friend Sarah. “I don’t see the appeal” she pretended to gag. 

The group of girls laughed at her exaggerated expression. The conversation carried on, debating the merits of 80s heartthrobs while Sarah continued to rave about Michael J Fox.

Outside, Johnny watched the scene through the dojo window, summoning the courage to approach her. His heart continued to beat furiously in his chest as he finally steeled himself to cross the street.

“Dude, she’s not getting any younger” Tommy called out. 

Johnny shot a withering glare over his shoulder toward his friends. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, his voice full of annoyance. He wasn’t sure who he was more frustrated with, his friends or himself for having to be pushed to talk to her.

He turned back toward the window, watching as the group of girls continued to chat. Taking a deep breath, he pushed out the front door of the dojo and started across the street.

They looked over the magazine still. Flipping the flimsy pages as one of her other friends nudges her. “Don’t look now but, Johnny Lawrence is totally coming over and he totally has his eyes on you!” her friend whispered. She tried not to look, “No way” she said in disbelief. 

The news sends a ripple of excitement through the group of girls. They all turn toward the approaching Johnny, trying to hide their grins of anticipation.

Her friend pokes her again, nodding in Johnny’s direction. “I’m serious! And he looks hot in his gi.”

She looks up to confirm their rambling. It was true, he was getting closer by the second. Her heart rate quickened, but he could be going over there for any of them, surely not her. 

Johnny’s steps felt heavy under the weight of his own nerves. He tried to keep his expression cool and casual as he got closer to where the group of girls were still huddled.

Finally, he found himself a few paces away, his palms suddenly sweaty. He managed a small smile, hoping it didn’t come off as nervous as he felt.

“Hey, mind if I talk to you for a second?” he asked, directing the question at her. He tried to ignore the flutter in his stomach as he spoke.

“Me?” she pointed to herself, not believing this was actually happening, a blush starting to form on her cheeks. 

Johnny chuckled at her response, unable to hide a grin now. Her rosy cheeks fueled the fire within him, and any lingering nerves were quickly replaced by confidence.

“Yeah, you,” he affirmed, his voice clear and smooth. 

She stood up from the sidewalk, walking away with him to a spot away from her friends. She turned around, quirking her brows at her friends. Johnny and her stopped near a telephone pole, equal distance from her friends and the dojo. 

As they walked, Johnny glanced over his shoulder toward the dojo. His friends were watching through the window, waiting with bated breath to see what would happen. 

When they reached the telephone pole, he turned to face her. Up close, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. He couldn’t help but notice how she fidgeted with her hair as she looked up at him with a mix of curiosity and hope.

“So,” he began, clearing his throat. “I have a question for you.”

She smiled, she wasn’t sure what his angle was, but she sure as hell wasn’t minding getting to look at him in that gi. “Sure, what is it?” she responds. 

Johnny smirked, enjoying how easily he seemed to be flustering her. He took a step closer, leaning his back against the pole, his confidence growing. 

“You're single now, right?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual. But his pulse quickened, knowing this was the make-or-break of this entire conversation.

“Yeah, how did you know?” she smirked. She always used to catch him looking at her, one time at a party when he was drunk he even said she had a nice rack. Secretly she knew he always wanted her in some way, even if it was just physical. 

He shrugged, the gesture feigning nonchalance. “I heard a few things,” he said, not wanting to give too much away. “So, no more hotshot football player boyfriend?”

She shook her head “Nope, benched him a few weeks ago” she replies slickly. She can’t help but notice how his hair sticks out over his headband, and how cute it is. 

Johnny chuckled at her response. She was witty, he had to give her that. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his gi, trying to act nonchalant. 

"Oh, really? And why's that?" he asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from her.

“I thought you had spies that told you everything about me” she flirts. She was still kind of surprised he knew her and her ex broke up. 

The conversation was starting to feel easier, even downright enjoyable.

He leaned a little closer, enjoying the scent of her perfume. "Maybe I do,” he counters, “But I wanted to hear it straight from the source."

“Didn’t peg you for much of a gossiper” she teases. “I broke up with him because he was being an ass hole, forgot my birthday” She shrugged it off, telling him the things he already heard from Tommy. 

Johnny nodded in agreement, feigning surprise although he knew the story. “What a dumb ass,” he muttered. “I can’t believe he blew off your birthday. It’s like the one thing a guy should always remember.”

“Actually, there’s two more: Anniversary, and when to call,” she joked. She had a natural charm to her, that’s probably why half of the Valley can’t get over its obsession with her. 

Johnny let out a sharp laugh, genuinely surprised by her quick-witted response. No one had ever called him out on that, aside from the boys.

He smiled wider at her, intrigued by her confidence. “I guess I should be writing all of that down, huh?”

“I charge by the hour, by lessons as well,” she joked. 

Johnny laughed again. “I'll have to start saving up, then.”

He found himself enjoying her sense of humor more than he'd expected. The fact that she could keep up with him was unexpected, but not unwelcome.

He looked at her, his gaze lingering for a beat longer than it should. He could feel his heart pounding as he took her in—her soft blonde hair, her sparkling eyes, her rosy cheeks.

“Yeah, guess you’ll have to quit karate to afford me,” she laughs. It’s all jokes, but she can’t help it. He made it too easy to fall into this flirtatious back and forth. 

He feigned offense, placing his hand on his chest dramatically. “I’d never give up karate, no matter how much I’d have to pay to keep you talking to me.”

Johnny leaned in a little closer, feeling emboldened by her playful banter. His eyes darted from her eyes to her lips and back again.

She bites back a grin, she knew exactly what Johnny was trying to do. “You don’t have to pay me for this conversation— I'll only let it slide this one time” she teases him. 

Johnny chuckled, taking her banter in stride. He leaned a little closer, his shoulder now nearly touching hers. “I appreciate the discount," he said, his voice dropping to a lower octave.  "You drive a hard bargain, you know that?"

She giggles, he was charismatic and cute, not to mention that sexy karate uniform. She didn’t entirely hate this conversation. 

Johnny smiled wider at the sound of her laughing. It was like music to his ears. He felt his confidence growing with each passing second, her giggles fueling the fire inside of him.

He shifted his weight, turning to face her. He was close enough to feel the heat of her body. He lowered his voice, his tone dropping to something more serious. "Can I ask you something else?"

“Depends on what it is,” she says softly. 

Johnny took a breath, trying to ignore the way her voice made his heart skip a beat. He glanced toward the dojo, where his friends were still watching. They all had grins on their faces, knowing what was at stake.

He looked back at her, steeling himself.

“I wanted to ask you... if you’d go out with me. This Saturday.”

It was a simple question, but he held his breath, waiting for her response.

She hit the inside of her cheek from excitement, trying to hold back the immediate yes that flooded her mind. “Like, on a date?” she queried. 

Johnny nodded, his heart feeling like a jackhammer in his chest. "Yeah, like on a date."

He suddenly felt nervous now that he’d actually asked her. But her reaction gave him some hope—she hadn’t said no and he hadn’t seen any looks of repulsion at the idea of going out with him.

She decided to tease him a little further before giving him a satisfactory answer. “Why do you want to go on a date with me?” she asks, a hint of playfulness in her tone. 

Johnny let out an exaggerated sigh. She was going to make him work for it.

A small smile tugged at his lips. “Because you haven’t run away yet.”

“There’s still time,” she teased. 

Johnny chuckled, shaking his head. “I guess I better talk fast, then.”

“You think I'm cute or something?” she teased him. 

He feigned surprise. “What? You? Cute? No way.”

Johnny laughed, a look of faux skepticism on his face. He took another step closer, less than a foot away from her now.

“Aw bummer” she shrugs “Cuz i think you’re pretty cute” she begins to walk away, she’s too smooth for her own good. 

Johnny’s heart skipped a beat as she began to saunter away. Damn, she was good. No way was he letting her get away like that.

He grabbed her wrist, gently pulling her back to face him. The contact sent a shiver through his body, their faces just inches apart again. “Wait wait, you can't just walk away from me like that.”

“You can tell me why I can’t on saturday” she grins “8 o’clock, i live at the last house on mulberry.” 

Johnny chuckled, shaking his head. She definitely knew how to play the game. 

“It’s a date, then” he said, a satisfied smirk on his face. “But if you try to stand me up, I’m gonna be pissed.”

“Even if I do, I'm still charging you” she smirks, in honesty, she couldn’t wait. 

Johnny raised an eyebrow, a look of mock concern on his face. “I’m starting to think you’re just in it for the money.”

He couldn’t help the excitement building up inside of him. He’d actually got a date with her - beautiful, witty, and charming as hell. The butterflies in his stomach felt like they were about to take flight.

She giggles, “I’ll see you Saturday, Johnny lawrence.”

He watched as she walked back to her friends, her hips swaying with each step. He could feel his heart pounding from the adrenaline and the excitement coursing through his veins.

He turned away, walking back to the dojo and the four grinning faces of his friends waiting for him.

Once Johnny walked through the door, Dutch put his arm around him “So man, what happened out there?”

Johnny shrugged, trying to act casual, but the grin on his face wouldn’t falter.

“I got a date on Saturday,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

“How the hell did you pull that off man?” Tommy goes wild. “Yeah, it looked like she had you really working for it” Bobby ribs him. 

Johnny chuckled, waving off their comments. “Yeah, she definitely made me work for it,” he admitted. “But it was totally worth it.”

He started walking toward the locker rooms, the thrill of his victory still coursing through his veins.

“And was she totally checking the gi or what?”Dutch asked, wondering if his advice worked. 

He tried to keep his cool, even though the thought of her checking him out made his heart skip a beat.

“Oh yeah,” he said nonchalantly. “She was definitely checking out the gi. How could she not, right?”

“Right man,” Jimmy chuckled. “Might have made her switch teams from football to karate.”

Johnny laughed, joining in on the jokes. “Who needs a quarterback when you can have the All-Valley champ?”

He opened his locker to start changing out of his gi. Even as he changed, his mind was still filled with thoughts of her.

“Atta boy” Tommy cheers. 

Johnny continued changing, a look of sheer gratification on his face. He couldn’t believe his luck. Against all odds, he’d actually managed to score a date with the girl of his dreams. 

As he finished getting changed into street clothes, he made a mental note to be on time come saturday. There was no way he was gonna risk blowing this opportunity.

*Fast forward to Saturday*

Johnny spent most of the day getting ready for his date. He showered, shaved, and picked out his best outfit. He spent more time than necessary fixing his hair, trying to get that perfect balance of casual and stylish. 

Finally, it was time to go. He checked himself one last time in the mirror, giving himself a reassuring nod. It was time to pick her up.

She put on an outfit that was sure to knock his socks off, she figured if he went through all of her teasing and taunts a few days ago, he should at least have a hot date. A black form shitting long sleeve, with jeans that fit her rear just right. 

She did the finishing touch on her makeup as she eyed outside of her bedroom window, waiting for his rod to pull into her driveway. 

The drive to her house felt like it took forever. All the way there, Johnny’s heart was pumping with excitement. The radio played some 80’s love hits, which only made him feel more anxious and eager to see her. 

When he pulled into her driveway, he double-checked himself in the rearview mirror. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the car and made his way to her front door.

She watched Johnny approach the door, running down the stairs to hear him rasp on the door. She felt a surge of nervousness take over her, this was the first date she’d been out on since the breakup, she hoped it was gonna go well. 

When she opened the door, he nearly lost his breath. She looked incredible. Wearing a figure-hugging outfit that showed off her curves, makeup that enhanced her natural beauty, she looked better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

He took a second to compose himself, raking in the sight of her with a hungry gaze, before smiling. “Hey.”

She smiled, closing the door behind her as the cool night air nipped at her cheeks. “Hi” she said softly, “No gi tonight?” she joked. He cleaned up nice, she thought to herself. 

He chuckled, looking down at his outfit. He'd chosen a simple but stylish look - jeans, a button-down shirt, and a leather jacket. 

"No, no gi tonight," he replied, a cheeky smile on his face. "Thought I should mix it up a bit."

He took in her outfit once more, trying not to let his gaze linger. "You look amazing, by the way."

Her makeup concealed her real blush, hidden under the powder. “Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself” She flirts, walking down the front steps with Johnny to his car. 

Johnny had to stop himself from grinning like an idiot. Her compliment made his heart skip a beat, just like it had on the telephone pole. 

He opened the car door for her, a charming smile on his face. "Ready?”

She nodded as she slid in, his car was surprisingly cleaner than she would have thought. Some karate gear in the back seat, along with some school books. It smelt like cologne and stale cigarettes, almost intoxicating. 

He shut the door after her, making his way to the driver's side, trying to ignore the flutters in his stomach. As he settled into the driver's seat, he glanced in her direction, noticing her taking notice of the contents in his car.

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry about the mess," he said, gesturing to the karate gear in the back. "I was training earlier today."

She shook her head as if to say ‘it’s okay.’ “It’s not messy” she simply replies, turning to him. “So, what did you have planned?”

Johnny started the engine, pulling out of the driveway and onto the street. He gave her a sly smile. “Well, I thought we could start by grabbing a bite to eat, maybe taking it to the beach?”

He glanced over at her, taking in the sight of her once more. Her perfume filled his nostrils, making his heart beat even faster in his chest.

As their sprayed scents mingled, making a deadly combination, she smiled “Yeah, that sounds really good actually.” She could hardly believe he had a plan, guys usually just stare at you until you pick something to do. “Any idea where you want to take out from?”

He shrugged, his attention shifting back to the road. "I was thinking we could grab some pizza. There's a place just down the beach where they’ve got the best mozzarella sticks."

Johnny looked over at her again, the street lights providing the perfect illumination of her face. "Or if there's anywhere else you want to go, I'm cool with that too.”

“Pizza sounds good, I'm a sucker for a classic cheese” She giggled. She glanced over at Johnny, his hands positioned on the steering wheel in a way that would make any girls heart beat faster. The slight smirk that hung on Johnny's lips made it really hard for her to bite back her own. 

Johnny felt her gaze on him, a wave of heat washing over his skin. He glanced over at her again, noticing the way her eyes lingered on his mouth. A rush of excitement coursed through him.

He tried to stay focused on the road, but his mind kept drifting back to her. The sight of her, sitting next to him, the scent of her perfume filling the car.... It was all driving him wild. 

He cleared his throat, trying to keep his composure. “So, uh... have you been to any parties lately?”

She turns back to the road, “Yeah a few. Marissas, Dave’s keg party, I was even at Jimmys for a second a few weeks ago” she lists her whereabouts. “I actually saw you there— but you were totally plastered” she giggles. 

Johnny chuckled, somewhat embarrassed at the memory. "Right... I was pretty wasted that night."

He looked over at her again, his gaze roaming over her face, taking in the way the light of the street lamp flickered against her skin. 

"I uh... don't remember much from that night," he admitted, heat creeping into his cheeks.

A playful grin plays on her lips, as does an increased blush. “I remember something pretty specific about that night— about you” she teases Johnny. 

His heart skipped a beat. "Oh yeah? What do you remember?"

He kept his eyes on the road, trying to keep his cool, but the sound of her voice and the hint of mischief in her tone was enough to drive him wild.

“You uh” she starts quietly “You told me.. I had a nice rack.” She bursts out laughing at his expense. 

Johnny felt his cheeks heat up, a mix of embarrassment and disbelief on his face. "I.... did I say that? Damn..."

He chuckled awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. "I’m sorry about that,” he said sheepishly. "I think I was way too drunk that night."

She shakes it off, still giggling “It’s okay, really” she assures him “It just sort of came out of nowhere.”

Johnny sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. The thought of his drunken self saying something so inappropriate to her made him feel like a complete tool. 

He glances over at her, a hint of remorse in his eyes. "I really don’t know what came over me that night," he said sincerely. "I can’t remember much, but I do remember thinking you looked pretty cute."

She looks at Johnny, damn he was quick with recovery. She hummed in acceptance as she finished stifling laughter from the memory. 

They made it to the pizza place just a few minutes later, it was right across from the beach. He opened the door for her to climb out and then they headed inside. 

Johnny held the door open for her, taking a deep breath as she passed by. He followed her into the pizza place, the aroma of pepperoni and cheese filling his nostrils. 

As they approached the counter, he let his gaze wander over her. The way her outfit clung to her curves made it hard for him to focus. 

He ordered a large cheese pizza and a basket of mozzarella sticks, his focus divided between the cashier and the girl next to him.

He paid for the food, then a few moments later took it to go, walking toward the beach. The moon reflected off of the ocean, cascading light to the shore. They sat a few yards from the waves, opening the food and indulging. 

They both sat on the sand, the cool night air and the sound of the waves providing a romantic backdrop for their date. 

Johnny watched as she took a bite of the pizza, his heart skipping a beat as she closed her eyes in pleasure. He took a mozzarella stick, chewing it as he tried to think of something to say. 

"So, uh... besides watching me embarrass myself at parties, what do you do for fun?"

“ Well” she finishes chewing “I do lots of stuff. Bike around with friends, go to the mall, listen to music.”  

He nods, taking in her answer. He could definitely imagine her riding around on a bike, the wind in her hair and a carefree smile on her face. "Music, huh?" he asks, his interest piqued. "What kind of music do you like?"

“Rock mostly, some pop” she takes another bite, watching the wind from the sea meds with Johnny's hair. 

Johnny smiled, appreciating her taste in music. "Me too," he said. “Although I gotta admit, I have a bit of a soft spot for some love songs."

He takes another mozzarella stick, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment before he looks out at the sea. Even in the dim moonlight, she looked absolutely stunning.

“Oh yeah?” she teases, secretly loving his confession. “Which ones your favorite?”

Johnny chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. "Oh man, that’s a tough one."

He took a moment to think, his eyes flicking back and forth as he tried to choose. "But if I had to pick one..." he grins. 

"I’d say it's ‘Faithfully’ by Journey."

He caught her by surprise, she didn’t peg him for a romantic. “That one’s pretty good, I bought the album on vinyl when it came out last year.”

Johnny’s eyes widened in surprise. “You have it on vinyl?” he asked, clearly impressed. “That’s pretty cool."

He took a bite of his pizza, watching her with a newfound respect. The fact that she not only knew the song, but actually owned the album in its most authentic form, made his heart skip a beat.

“Yeah” she took a sip of her drink”Maybe you can come by sometime and listen with me. I have a bunch of records, all pretty good if I do say so myself” she offers, a hint of nervousness in her voice, she wasn’t used to asking guys to hang out. They always asked her. 

Johnny nearly choked on his pizza at her invitation. The idea of going over to her house and listening to her records made his heart skip a beat. 

He tried to play it cool, a sly smile on his face. "That sounds pretty awesome," he said. "I’d love to come check out your collection sometime."

She looked at him with soften eyes “Cool.” She picked up her final slice of pizza as she began to bite into it. “How about you, what are some of your hobbies?”

Johnny took a moment to ponder the question as he munched on his pizza. "Hmm, well I guess my biggest hobby is karate," he admitted. "It's been a big part of my life for a while now."

He thought for a moment, racking his brain to think of something else. "And I guess... I like riding my motorcycle when I get the chance."

“Motorcycle, huh?” she says curiously, he really was some rebel. It was kind of intriguing, and made her want to know all about him.

Johnny nodded, unable to keep the hint of pride out of his tone. "Yeah, I picked one up a few months ago. It's a Kawasaki."

He couldn't help the flash of excitement as he talked about his bike. It was one of his favorite things, and the thought of her being impressed by it made his heart beat a little faster.

“Way cool,” she smiles, taking another bite of her pizza. 

He grinned, feeling a rush of adrenaline at her interest. "Thanks," he said. "Maybe I could take you for a ride sometime. If you want." 

He took a sip of his drink, hoping he didn’t sound too eager. But the thought of her arms wrapped around him, the wind in their hair as they rode through the city, was an enticing image.

she grinned “yeah, i’d like that a lot actually”

Johnny's smile grew wider, her enthusiasm evident. "Great," he said confidently. "How about this weekend? We can go for a ride and find a cool place to hang out."

He leaned back slightly, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer before shifting back to the sea. "It'll be a blast, I promise."

“Well it’s already Saturday, so wanna do tomorrow night?”

Johnny nodded enthusiastically at the suggestion. "Tomorrow night sounds perfect. I'll pick you up around 7?"

He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. The idea of spending more time with her, riding through the city on his bike, was exhilarating. He could hardly wait.

As they finished up their meal, Johnny took a moment to study her face. The way the moonlight hit her skin made her look even more beautiful than before. His gaze lingered on her lips, the memory of almost kissing her earlier sending a jolt through his body.

He glanced at her, noticing her finishing up as well. "Are you ready to head back?" he asked, his voice soft.

She turned back to him “Yeah i’m ready”

He rose to his feet, offering a hand to help her up as well. "Cool, let's go then."

Once she was standing, he held on to her hand for a moment longer than necessary. "Thanks for coming out tonight," he said softly, his gaze locked on hers. "I had a really good time."

She smiled at Johnny “yeah, i did too.” They get in the car. 

Johnny opened the car door for her, watching as she slid into the passenger seat. He made his way to the other side, sliding in behind the wheel.

As they pulled away from the beach, the radio played softly in the background. Johnny glanced over at She, the glow of the streetlights illuminating her face. He couldn't help but smile, unable to contain his happiness.

It was a quiet ride home, in comfortable silence. Once he got back to her house, he opened the car door and began walking her back to her front door. “Thanks Johnny” 

"Of course," Johnny responded confidently, walking beside her. “Thanks for coming out tonight with me.”

They reached her front doorstep, and he turned to face her. His heart was racing, but he kept his cool exterior. He didn’t want the night to end, but he also didn’t want to push for something she might not be ready for. So he took a deep breath, looked into her eyes, and simply said, “Goodnight.”

“night” she opened her front door, disappearing behind the wood. 

Johnny watched as she stepped inside, his heart still beating rapidly in his chest. He took a moment to take a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

As he walked back to his car, he couldn't shake the feeling of excitement that was swelling within him. He knew this was the start of something special.

She stood there for a second, turning back around and opening the door “Johnny, wait!” she said, running down the steps toward him. 

Johnny had just reached his car, his hand on the handle, when she called out to him. He paused, turning around to see her running towards him. "Yeah?" he asked, a mix of surprise and hope in his voice.

She stopped right in front of him, took one look into his beautiful blue eyes, and kissed him, a short but desperate kiss. She pulls back. 

Johnny was taken aback by her sudden kiss. It was quick, but passionate, and it sent a jolt of electricity through his whole body. His lips tingle from the sensation, and his heart raced like never before.

He stood there for a moment in surprise, his eyes locked on hers. Then, without a word, he pulled her closer, pressing his lips to hers in a more intense and lingering kiss.

her hands went to the back of johnny's neck, tilting her head to deepen the kiss.

Johnny wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer as the kiss grew more intense. He could feel her hands in his hair, her body pressed against his. It was exhilarating and intoxicating, and he wanted to memorize every moment of it.

They broke apart for a moment, both of them panting and flushed. Johnny ran a hand through his hair, trying to catch his breath. "Wow," he said, his voice hoarse. "That was... wow."

“yeah” she breathed, her lips plump from the assault. “So tomorrow at 7, don’t be late” she teased as she walked back into her house. 

Johnny watched her disappear behind her front door, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Wouldn't dream of it," he called out, feeling like his heart was about to burst.

He got back in his car, his mind racing as he replayed the moment over and over in his head. He couldn't wait for tomorrow night.

The next day at training, the boys at the dojo press him. “So Johnny” Tommy smirks “how did your hot date with her go last night?”

Johnny rolled his eyes, trying to suppress a grin. "It was alright, I guess," he said, downplaying it. He knew the guys were just teasing him, and he didn't want to give them the satisfaction of knowing how well it actually went.

They looked at each other “just alright?” Jimmy laughed “you took out the hottest chick at west valley, and it was just alright?”

Johnny chuckled, trying to act nonchalant. "Fine, fine. It was pretty damn amazing," he admitted, unable to keep a straight face. "Happy now?"

“That’s awesome man” Tommy patted him on the back. They were all secretly happy for him, jokes aside. 

Johnny smiled, appreciating their support. "Thanks guys," he said, feeling a sense of camaraderie with his dojo mates. "I'm seeing her again tonight, so maybe we'll see if it can be even better."

Dutch rubbed him “You scored a second date? Legend!” he chuckled. 

“We told you she couldn’t resist you” Jimmy chimed in. 

Johnny laughed, feeling a mix of pride and shyness at their comments. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just hope I don't mess it up tonight," he joked, although there was a hint of nervousness in his tone.

“Just take it slow man, don’t come on too strong” Tommy said. 

Johnny nodded, taking in their advice. "Right, right. I'll keep it cool. Can't let my ego get in the way now, can I?"

He knew he had a bit of a reputation for being arrogant and cocky, but he didn't want to let that ruin things with her.

He checked his watch, seeing that he still had a little time before he was supposed to pick her up. "I should probably get going, don't want to be late," he said, gathering his things. "Wish me luck, guys."

"Good luck killer" Dutch teased.

Johnny shot him a playful glare, but he couldn't help but smile. "Thanks man," he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "See you guys later."

Johnny shot him a playful glare, but he couldn't help but smile. "Thanks man," he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "See you guys later."

Johnny arrived at her house right on time, ringing the doorbell with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. When she opened the door, he tried to remain cool, despite the butterflies he felt in his stomach. "Hey," he greeted her with a smile. "You ready to go?"

"Mhm" she smiled, shutting the door behind her.

Johnny led her to his bike parked in front of her house. He handed her a spare helmet, making sure it fit snugly on her head. "Safety first," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "Just hold on tight, okay?"

She moved her hair back behind her shoulders as Johnny got onto his bike. "Okay" she hummed.

He revved up the engine, feeling the bike vibrate beneath him. "Let's hit the road," he said, his eyes sparkling with adrenaline. He waited for her to climb on behind him, and then they were off.

He weaved through the streets with ease, the cool breeze of the night hitting their faces. He couldn't help but glance back at her a few times, making sure she was enjoying the ride. Her grin gave him his answer.

She hugged him tightly as she watched the city flash by her, resting the side of her head on his back. She couldn't believe how good this felt, being with him, going so fast. 

Johnny felt her arms wrap around him, her cheek resting against his back. It felt amazing, and he couldn't help but feel even more drawn to her. He sped up slightly, wanting to show off a little and impress her. 

The wind whipped through their hair as they rode through the city, both of them lost in the thrill of the moment. Johnny had never felt so alive.

She smelt the leather on his red jacket, it smelt just like his car, just like him. Her hands began to grip tighter the faster he went.

Johnny felt her squeeze him tighter, her grip on his jacket growing more intense. He couldn't help but grin, loving the feeling of her holding onto him like that. His focus was solely on the road ahead, but his mind kept wandering back to her. As they continued to ride through the city, he couldn't help but feel like he was on top of the world. "You enjoying yourself?" he called back to her over the wind.

She giggles, her laugh mixed with the sounds of the engine "So much fun." She moved her hands to grab his chest.

He could feel her small hands on his chest, and it sent a thrill through his body. Johnny decided to take them on a detour, weaving through the city streets until they reached a spot with a perfect view of the city skyline. He pulled over and turned off the bike. "Hey, you gotta see this," he said, helping her off the bike.

She took off the helmet, placing it on the bikemas she turned to take in the view. "Woah, I've never seen LA from here. It's really something" She gushed, her eyes lit up with the city lights.

Johnny stood beside her, taking in the view as well. But his gaze kept drifting towards her instead, mesmerized by how beautiful she looked in the glow of the city lights. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "I've never brought anyone here before," he admitted, his voice soft. "But I wanted to share this view with you."

She blushed, but couldn't help a teasing comment; "Do you say that to all the girls you ask out on the side of the road?"

Johnny chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, just you," he said, a hint of sincerity in his tone. "I mean it, though. You're special." He paused for a moment, then added with a playful grin, "And besides, I've never taken someone on my bike before."

She looked bewildered. "You've never taken another girl on your bike before?"

Johnny shook his head, feeling a sense of vulnerability under her surprised gaze. "Nope, never," he said, his usual confident tone giving way to a softer one. "You're the first one, and... I wanted it to be you. I wanted to share something that's important to me."

She felt star struck, she really didn't peg him for being a sentimental guy.  "That's actually really sweet, Johnny," she blushed.

Johnny could feel his face heating up, a mix of embarrassment and joy. "Yeah, well," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Don't go telling the other guys at the dojo, okay? I've got a reputation to maintain." He flashed her a playful grin.

"Sure thing casanova" she winked, giggling.

Johnny chuckled, shaking his head. "You're gonna be trouble, I can already tell," he teased back, before leading her back towards his bike. "Come on, there's one more place I want to show you."

She put back on the helmet, smiling "Okay sure thing."

Johnny revved up the engine, waiting for her to hop on behind him. Once she was settled, he took off through the city once again. They weaved through the streets, the wind whipping past them as they went. Johnny felt alive, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he drove. He couldn't think of anywhere he'd rather be in that moment than with her, on his bike, showing her a side of himself he rarely showed anyone else. He drove her through backroads until they reached a field, the stars made the valley glow.

She hoped off the bike, looking up and taking in the constellations. It was so beautiful, so vast, and so romantic. "Wow Johnny, this is incredible.." she turns and gushes "the stars look amazing."

"I thought you might like it," Johnny said, his voice softer than usual. He stepped closer to her, taking in the stunning view as well. "You know, I used to spend a lot of time stargazing as a kid," he continued. "My mom would take me camping all the time, and we'd lay out in the field and just look up at the sky for hours."

He paused for a moment, lost in thought. "I haven't done it in years, but being here with you now, it feels like I'm a kid again."

Her heart swelled, never did she imagine him to be so sweet, so vulnerable. "I know what you mean," she says quietly.

Johnny couldn't resist any longer. He slowly leaned in, his eyes locked onto hers. "Hey," he whispered, his voice husky. "Can I..." His words trailed off as he leaned in closer, his lips meeting hers in a tender and heartfelt kiss.

He could feel a spark ignite within him, a warmth spreading through him as they kissed under the starry sky. He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, wanting to cherish this moment forever.

She blended into his embrace, swiping his bottom gently with her tongue. Her hands roam his sides as her eyes flutter, the desire and passion building with each gasp for air. 

The feeling of her tongue against his lip sent shivers down Johnny's spine, and his grip on her tightened. He responded eagerly, allowing her access as he explored her mouth with his own. His hands moved to her hips, pulling her flush against him as the intensity of their kiss grew.

She runs her hands through his hair, pulling him closer by the back of the head as they are locked lips breaks up into pants and gasps.

Johnny's hands roamed over her body, tracing her curves as they kissed passionately under the stars. He broke the kiss momentarily to catch his breath, his breathing ragged and heavy, "You're driving me crazy."

She laughs, still trying to catch her breath. "Yeah, I tend to have that effect," she teases.

Johnny chuckles, shaking his head at her teasing tone. "You're something else, you know that?" he says, his voice still laced with desire. "But I like it. I like you."

She blushes, his admission was blunt and something she wasn't used to. Usually guys are too scared and trying hard to be too slick to actually say how they feel. "I like you too," she says through a small smile.

Johnny grins, feeling a surge of happiness at her words. He gently tucks a stray hair behind her ear, his touch tender and affectionate. "I'm glad," he says softly. "This feels different, you know? Different in a good way."

"Different?" she questioned Johnny.

Johnny ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the right words. "Yeah, different," he said, his tone thoughtful. "It's like... I don't know, I've been with plenty of girls before, but none of them ever made me feel like this. Like there's something more here, something deeper."

He paused, looking into her eyes. "Maybe I'm crazy, but I think we have a shot at something special. Something real."

[loveu2themoonandsaturn]

“SLUT!”

loosely inspired by the taylor swift song.

steve harrington x fem!reader

a/n: tried to get the word count but I fear I lost track at 3k and that was maybe only the halfway point 😭 also sorry for the potentially shit formatting, I’ve never done this before and I typed the whole thing in the tumblr app. hope it doesn’t ruin the reading experience 😅 all credit for dividers goes to @strangergraphics!

angst, hurt/comfort, fluff(ish), no use of y/n, second person, office gossip, way past upside down but hawkins is still that same small town, very 80s/90s attitude toward sex, slutshaming, sort of miscommunication trope (more like meddling jackass trope) minor injury (no blood), reader is mentioned as having meat in her freezer and consumes dairy once, only kinda beta’d because every time I try I just end up ADDING THINGS, smut 18+ MDNI, filthier tags below.

contains: porn with an unreasonable amount of plot, protected piv fucking (girls we cannot afford children in this economy, wrap it before you tap it), soft pleasure dom!Steve, needy Steve who may or may not be real big on talking you through it, oral (m+f), fingering, some ball sucking, intimacy, love confessions (i’m sorry😭), eye contact, hickies like a motherfucker, no body type mentioned, no hair type or length mentioned, y’all prolly know most of the drill.

hope you enjoy! 🩵

Steve swore he felt his soul leave this side of heaven when he felt a fist slam against the front desk of the Family Video, right next to where his head so happened to be resting, wrapped up in his own arms. Whoever just did that was about to hear a piece of his mind.

“Hey man, what the hell- oh. Hey,” He relaxes for a moment when he sees that it’s you, but only for just that moment.

Because then he sees your face.

Hot, angry tears are streaming stoically down your face from a pair of red, puffy eyes. He panics at the expression that paints the face he so adores.

His immediate instinct is to fix it.

“Baby, what’s wro—”

“Don’t you fucking call me baby right now,” you cut him off. Your voice is cold, almost devoid of emotion. It worries Steve. “Why would you say those things about me, why would you lie?”

Steve’s head is spinning now. Lies? Talking about you? Was he still asleep, dreaming? Had he accidentally shifted into another dimension? Hell, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, slow down—”

You scoff. “I don’t believe that for a second. I believed you when you said you’d changed, that you weren’t that same douchebag we all knew back in high school,” you pause, throat catching on the lump nestled deep within it. “But I was wrong about that. I won’t make that mistake twice.”

Steve felt his heart shattering, and he didn’t even know why, didn’t understand what on earth was going on.

“Wait, no, I’m serious, I don’t know what we’re talking about here, please!” He’s desperate now, needs to know what he did, what transgression he forgot that he must now atone for.

“You expect me to believe you don’t know what your good friend Tommy got up to this morning?”

Tommy? Tommy Hagan? Steve hadn’t so much as spoken to that toxic jackass in years, what could he possibly have to do with anything-

“Because I walked into work today and was greeted by him, in front of all my coworkers, announcing that he had a gift for the new town whore,” you choke out, voice no longer cold, but bitter. Angry. Sad. “And he handed me what must have been the deadest, most rotten bouquet of flowers left from the supermarket, with a card. ‘To the SLUT, courtesy of King Steve,’” you say, voice raised enough to catch the attention of several now-nosy movie perusers.

Steve stands slack-jawed, floored at the mere thought. He wasn’t even sure how Tommy knew he was seeing you, let alone what he could have done to give him the impression that you had slept with him.

Unfortunately for Steve, you don’t take his silence for the shock that it is.

“Nothing to say for yourself? My reputation is in shreds, my boss won’t look me in the eye and my coworkers haven’t stopped whispering since 9 a.m., yet you have nothing to say for yourself?” you spit, incredulous.

Steve’s brain finally gets with the program and makes his mouth move.

“Honey, I didn’t know anything about this,” he pauses when you roll your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “I haven’t talked to Tommy since high school. I have changed, I’m not the person that I used to be, and even if I was still friends with Hagan’s sorry ass, I would never, ever lie about you like that. I like you. I care about you. I would never put that in jeopardy.”

Steve’s eyes are pleading, which you might notice if you could even bring yourself to meet them.

“God, Steve, please don’t treat me like I’m stupid-”

“I’m not, I’m not!,” he cuts you off. “I swear, I don’t know how he got that idea into his head, but I would never do that to you!” Steve is fighting the urge to raise his voice. You deserve his gentleness, even during a fight, he thinks. That gentleness is clearly not mutual, though, at least not right now.

“Is it because I said I wasn’t ready?” you say, voice at a low volume.

Steve feels his heart thud restlessly in his chest, hurt and pain lashing at the muscle.

“Wh… What?” He’s giving you an opportunity to back out, clarify, say you don’t mean what he thinks you mean. But you double down.

“Is Tommy doing this out of some weird bro-code respect for you because I said I wasn’t ready to have sex with you.” You ask it like it’s a statement, a sure thing, no real questioning to your tone.

He’s hit with a wave of this sick feeling in his stomach, this inescapable dread at the thought that you might believe even for a second that he would stoop that low. He swallows, a thick feeling as a lump in his own throat starts to make itself known.

“You really think that poorly of me?” he mutters out, pained.

You shake your head, tears falling faster now.

“I didn’t Steve. All my friends told me I was being stupid, too trusting of you, giving you too much benefit of the doubt, and I…” you prick your finger into your own chest, bone meeting bone as the digit presses into your sternum. “I told them they were crazy. That they were stuck in the past and that you were so different now. I defended you.” You let out a mirthless chuckle. “And look where that got me. Do you know what half the town will think by this time tomorrow? They’re gonna that I spread my legs for the first man to show interest in me, for the man who has a well-documented history of taking what he wants and leaving, and they’re going to think I’m pathetic and easy for it.” He’s never seen you like this. It’s agony.

“In a way… the truth is almost worse. Because I was stupid enough to let ‘King Steve’ come and pretend to be all sweet and gentlemanly and brand-spanking-new. I guess the punishment fits the crime, right? I believed you, and now nobody is gonna believe me.” You start to turn on your heel, halfway ready to walk out the door.

“Wait, wait!” Steve is frantic now. “I don’t know how this happened, but please, give me a chance, let me fix this for you,” he begs.

You squeeze your eyes shut, hands finally coming up to wipe away some tears so you can at least leave with some dignity.

“I don’t think this is something you can fix.”

And with that, the best thing in Steve’s life walks out the door.

Hurt doesn’t even begin to describe how he feels. But it’s quickly replaced by rage, blinding anger that someone would do this to you. More anger yet that Tommy-fucking-Hagan of all people would crawl out of whatever hole he’s been living in to, to what? Ruin his chance at happiness with you since Carol dumped him the second she went away for college? Hurt you just for being associated with Steve and a better future, not his past? What the hell is this?

He’s dialing Robin’s number before he can even think straight, asking if she can do him a favor and stay the last hour at the store, close up. He mindlessly agrees to whatever condition it is she sets; he’s hardly paying attention, because now? Now he has business to attend to.

The night is young, and Steve knew he’d luck out eventually by just going from filthy dive bar to filthy dive bar. After all, there were only so many places in Hawkins where a burnout could go to delude himself into thinking he’s not there to drown his sorrows.

It’s at the fifth one that he lays eyes on Tommy, looking worse for wear. He’s surrounded by a couple other guys that walk and talk and dress like Steve used to in high school, Tommy’s obvious attempt at replacing him. He almost wonders if he’ll find a pseudo-Carol somewhere in the crowd, waiting to dote on him.

Steve overhears Tommy talking, who clearly does not know he’s even been found and is being watched.

“I mean, you guys should have seen the look on her face. Harrington’s girl was basically a puddle, I guess she knew she got caught. You know what they say, though boys—”

“Yeah? What is it they say, Tommy?” Steve’s sudden interruption brings a mix of shock and satisfied jeers among the little crowd. Tommy turns whistles, rubbing his hands together in satisfaction.

“Well look what the cat dragged in! Big King Steve back from his latest conquest. What’s wrong, your girl can’t handle the consequences of her own actions?”

Steve’s jaw gets tight at that; he’s trying damn hard to maintain some semblance of control. All he can think about is how bad he wants to punch that smirk off Tommy’s face.

“And just what do you think you know about her, huh Hagan? Or did that half semester of college give you time to get into shitty creative writing?” Steve grits out.

“Oh, please Harrington, don’t act like half the town didn’t see you two heading into your place this weekend. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together,” Tommy says, cocky as ever.

A moment of realization hits Steve then. He had brought you to his house, at night, and you two were alone. He’d let you sleep in the guest room when it got too late. It never even occurred to him that someone was watching, let alone would assume something went down between the two of you and spread that assumption around.

He feels like such a fucking idiot.

He knows this town, knows these people. They love nothing more than a scandal. Something to gossip about. He should have been more careful with you. His own anger with himself turns into rage at the sorry excuse for a man now standing before him.

“You’re such goddamn dumbass, Hagan. She’s not a whore, a slut, an anything. She slept in the guest bedroom, and she only spent the night in the first place because I said it was too late to drive her home.”

Tommy and his gaggle of trust fund babies, one of whom surely paid for the flattening beer he takes a swig from, all elbow each other, exchanging knowing glances.

But they don’t know shit, Steve thinks.

“Listen, Harrington, it’s cute that you want to ‘defend her honor,’” Tommy mocks, “But at the end of the day, nobody in this town was born yesterday. I’m sorry her feelings got hurt just because people noticed how easy she is, but that’s how it i- what the fuck dude??”

Tommy is cut off quickly and finds the edge of the bar jamming into his spine, with Steve Harrington having rushed in and wrapped his fists into Tommy’s shirt collars.

“She is anything but easy, you son of a bitch,” Steve seethes, pushing Tommy back again for emphasis. “Six months we’ve been dating, and I haven’t touched her. You know why that is? Because I actually give two shits about her, I have respect for her, something you’re not capable of doing or having for anybody.”

Tommy is thrown off guard, but quickly recovers, slapping that smirk right back on his face. Steve decides then and there that he hates that smirk.

“Listen buddy. We all remember your track record when it comes to anything that involves fists,” Tommy sneers. “Unless you wanna get your ass handed to you, I suggest letting me go. It’s not like anyone would believe she’s the choir girl you want us to think she is.”

Steve laughs, the sound dark. He laughs, and that confuses the hell out of Tommy and his crew.

“Maybe you peaked in high school and forgot that other people grow past who they were at 18, but the rest of us didn’t. So if I were you? I’d get to work fixing this shit, unless you want to have to fix your goddamn teeth, buddy,” Steve says, his threat only cushioned slightly by his sarcastic remark.

“Like hell I will,” Tommy yells before shoving Steve off. He swings, and color quickly blooms across the apple of Steve’s left cheek. “Now get the fuck out of h-”

Tommy doesn’t get to finish. Or do much of anything, really.

With one solid, square hit to the chin, Steve lays Tommy out, leaving him with nothing more than a sure concussion and a nice sticky spot on the bar floor to come to on.

Tommy’s herd of friends stand in stunned silence, a strong juxtaposition from their earlier mindless chittering. It’s satisfying, if Steve is honest with himself.

Steve steps closer to them, causing a few of them to back off, clearly not wanting to be next.

“When he wakes up, you tell your little friend here to fix the mess he made, and that if I so much as have to hear someone utter his name again for the rest of my life, I’m coming back and beating his ass, and next time I won’t stop once he’s on the ground. Oh, and make sure he leaves me and my girl alone, yeah?”

Something about Steve’s energy is enough to have them nodding, no questions asked.

Steve storms out of the bar, only one mission left for the day.

You’re home in your apartment, taking your feelings out on a bowl of ice cream and watching Pretty in Pink for what must be the ninth time, when you hear knocking at your door.

You find yourself wondering who the hell would be knocking at this hour, only irked at the possibilities running through your head.

You’re already yelling through to the person on the other side as you make your way to the door.

“I don’t want to buy whatever you’re selling and I already know Jesu- Oh.”

You swing open the door to find none other than Steve Harrington, looking a lot more bruised than the last time you saw him.

Both of his eyes look apologetic, pitiful, and the quickly forming mark beneath his left one certainly isn’t helping your resolve.

You have the urge to kick him to the curb, but find that, in spite of what you believe he did, you didn’t leave your feelings for him at the doors of the Family Video when your hightailed it out of there earlier that day.

So that’s how you get here, with Steve sitting on your kitchen counter, right fist squishing into a bag of frozen peas, left hand pressing a freezer-burnt steak into the respective cheek. Your movie is forgotten, frozen in time, and what remained of the ice cream has been left to melt.

You’re silent, plaid pajama pants and your softest T-shirt hanging on to your form, only shielded somewhat by the fuzzy robe that sits open, mostly just draped around your shoulders. As you lean against your fridge, you take a long sip from your mug, warm liquid soothing as you fight to break the silence, the tension that seems to suffocate the room.

You don’t ask where those bruises came from. Curious as you are, you find you’re not sure if you really want to know. However, you’re not left to wonder for long.

“I’m pretty sure I put Tommy Hagan in the emergency room tonight.”

Your eyes nearly fall out of your head with how wide they get, head snapping up when he says that.

“I, um, got real pissed when you told me what he did to you, and I went from bar to bar until I found him. I told him to fix it, and he acted like it was some big joke, and I was just seeing red, but in my defense, he hit me first,” he rambles, gesturing vaguely to the slowly thawing slab of meat currently taking up half the real estate on his face.

You continue to stare at him, bug-eyed and unmoving. Steve finds himself unable to stop talking under your gaze.

“He said he or, someone, I guess, saw you come into my house the other night and never leave and so they like? Assumed the rest, and I’m sorry, because I definitely should have thought about how it might look before offering you the guest bed, or I should have taken you home, or I should have slept on the goddamn sidewalk so it was incredibly clear nothing was going on but I didn’t so I told him, or I guess I told his friends to pass along the message, to fix it and he was just out cold on the floor of the bar and I-”

“Steve.”

He finally stops, looking at you. He sees tears welling up in your eyes and immediately assumes it was something he said. He starts to apologize, but you hold up a hand, shaking your head.

“I just can’t believe you would do that for me,” you mutter, at a loss for words.

Steve, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, says, “I mean, of course. You’re my girl and someone was mean to you. I’m crazy about you, why would I let anyone hurt you just to take you away from me?” He cocks his head when he asks, eyes innocent. “And I mean, it doesn’t hurt that Tommy is the biggest jackass in all of Indiana and has been earning that knockout since we were like, 16,” he laughs out.

For a moment, the cognitive dissonance is winning out. You’d fought with yourself all day about the kind of person Steve Harrington is. Who, until very recently, he always was. All day, you’d let the voices of high school friends permeate your head, losing trust in your gut, in your own instincts, in what you thought and believed. You had yourself convinced that you’d allowed yourself to be blinded, had just wanted the attention, the affection, and that Steve had never ever changed, just got better at hiding it. But maybe the truth wasn’t so simple.

A tear falls. In assuming he had broken your trust, had you broken his?

You know it’s not your fault. Not really. That blame belongs squarely on the shoulders of a loser who’s going to have to explain to a less-than-nice nurse just why he came through the doors of the emergency room with a concussed head and a dislocated jaw.

But you fell for it. A few mean looks, some workplace gossips whispering in the break room, and you fell right into Tommy’s trap. Hook, line, sinker.

What was it that made you so easily believe the worst of the man who has, throughout your relationship, shown you nothing but affection and kindness?

Guilt gnaws at you, because you think you know.

“I’m so sorry for not believing you. And for all the things I said earlier. I was… I was cruel. I was mean and defensive and let some pseudo-high school drama put me right back in that place mentally, put you right back to who you were in my mind, and that was unfair. I was punishing you for your past, and you didn’t deserve that,” you say, looking over at Steve now.

But Steve is having none of it.

“I spent years being the worst version of myself to everyone around me whose pants I wasn’t trying to get into. I was vindictive and, sometimes? Flat out evil toward people who weren’t high enough up on the social ladder for me. If I had been in your position, I would have thought the same thing, because I have thoroughly earned that reputation. I don’t expect you to get rid of that past version of me in your head. I know you can’t just forget. You’re only human.”

He slides off the counter, frozen goods abandoned as he crosses over to you where you lean and looks you in your eyes.

“It’s my job to make up for it. To prove I’ve changed. That’s not trust that forms easily, it’s hard earned, and I intend to do everything I can to win it fair and square. To earn the right to be yours.”

You feel heat burn behind your cheeks at his sweet words. “So does that mean you forgive me for being a real bitch to you in front of customers today?”

Steve laughs, the sound jovial and refreshing after the day you’ve had.

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing to forgive, but how ‘bout I say all is forgiven if you can forgive me for being a huge dumbass?” His lopsided grin and the way he’s looking at you, all heart eyes and pure adoration… all of it is too much, too good, and all you can do is nod, a small, hopeful smile on your face.

“Good. Now, would’ya c’mere and let me comfort you? Let me take care of my girl after the shitty day she had?” He holds his arms open to you, hands waving you in.

You roll your eyes just a bit before giving in, immediately accepting the familiarity and warmth of your boyfriend’s arms. You’re so glad he’s still your boyfriend.

He kisses the top of your head and lets your face press into his chest, allowing his own heartbeat to soothe you as he holds one arm firmly around your waist, letting the other rub a flat palm up and down your back.

“Sweet girl, you didn’t deserve how they treated you today…” he mutters just loud enough for you to hear. “Only deserve good things… gonna give you all the good things to make up for it, yeah?”

The sheer relief you feel being here, with him uttering sweet nothings into your ear and treating you like the you’re the only thing that matters in the whole wide world, it makes up for it all, you think. Maybe tomorrow will be hard, maybe people at work will still suck, but you won’t be facing it alone. You’ll have Steve. That feels like enough.

You let yourself peek out from where you’d tucked yourself in so you can look up at this wonderful man who did so much today to prove that he’s not who everyone thinks he is. He looks back down at you and just smiles, staring into your eyes.

It may have been less than a day.

But, God, you had missed him.

So you indulge yourself, removing one of the arms from around his body and placing a hand far back on his neck, just enough to be able to run your fingers softly through the short pieces at the base, brushing your thumb along his jawline.

His smile falters for just half a second, replaced by the shivers you give him.

Encouraged by his reaction, you don’t hold back, using your hand as leverage to drag his face into yours for a sweet kiss. Your lips lock, and neither one of you moves away or lets go until the need for oxygen wins out. It’s stupid and sappy and exactly what you needed.

When you do finally have to let go, you’re both breathing hard, but Steve still finds it in him to make a suggestion.

“I think I left some sweats and a T-shirt here back when I helped you move in that new couch,” he gestures to the spot where you had just been wallowing, “How ‘bout I change and we get comfortable on the couch and you tell me every thought on that pretty little mind?”

You two do exactly that. He’s pleasantly surprised to find you’d laundered the very clothes he’d left over, something you shyly justified with the possibility that he might get stuck and need to spend the night, a concept which clearly flustered you to no end.

So there you are, curled up in Steve’s arms, same paused movie frame still on the TV, and you just rant about your day.

“…And if all of that wasn’t enough, she had the nerve to whisper one last snickering ��whore’ to me on my way out! I don’t know where she gets off, especially since it was just last month that everyone heard she got caught sneaking out of the supply closet with the assistant manager!” Steve chuckles at that, “But it just sucked! I don’t mind being the center of attention, but good grief, not like this! These people are like vultures! It made me sad and mad and just a bunch of other things and it was ridiculous because it was all for something I didn’t even do!” you finish, Steve pressing comforting kisses into your temple.

“That’s just not right, honey. I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he says.

You lean into his chaste kisses, hands playing with his fingers where they sit clasped in your lap.

“I just… it’s ridiculous. I mean, half the reason I told you I wasn’t ready for sex was because I was so anxious, so terrified that somehow people would know and then they would judge me for it,” you shake your head. “And I know, that’s like bullshit, but it’s where my head was at. Today though? All I could think to myself all day was, I wish I would have just done it. I didn’t do anything and they still talked all their shit. If I’m going to be called a slut, a whore, easy, I should at least have gotten something out of it. Give ‘em something real to talk about, make the their bullshit worthwhile,” you muse. “Maybe I still should.”

You’re so lost in those musings that you barely notice the way Steve is staring at you, wondering if he’s had a stroke.

“What do you mean?” he says, certain he’s misheard.

He definitely knows what you mean. Being called on it, however, has you almost backtracking, your face so hot now he would surely get burned if he touched it.

You don’t look him in the eye, instead appearing very focused on each individual finger on his hands as they sit in your lap. You’re unfortunately noticing that he takes very good care of his nails, keeping them short and clean, perfect for— Stop that, you chide yourself, finally responding to your boyfriend, who is maybe having an aneurism behind you.

“I mean, just… it’s so stupid, the only reason I didn’t do something that I really wanted to do was because I was worried what people would say about me. That all seems pretty moot now so, I dunno… maybe we should… do it… sometime,” you mumble out, not sure if you’re embarrassed more by your seriously weird concerns about the opinions of others or the fact that you’re all but asking Steve to have sex with you.

Steve is not thinking about either option, though, being ever the opportunist.

“I would take you right now.”

Maybe you’re the one having that stroke?

You whip your head around and look at him, that same hungry look, the one he always gets when the two of you make out for just a liiiiiiittle bit too long, now gracing his face.

You whisper out, “Are you serious?”

He nearly scoffs at that. “I don’t play games when it comes to you,” a phrase that has a more than one meaning after his bar-side activities this evening, “I’ll always wait for your yes, and I’ll always stop at your no but… for that time in between? I’m making love to you like it’s my last day on earth.”

Your breath hitches, something deep within you warming and stirring at his words.

“Can I tell you something, Steve?”

“Always, gorgeous.”

You gulp.

“You’ve got my yes.”

Suddenly, you’ve been moved. You’re laying on your back on your couch and your very gorgeous boyfriend has one leg between your thighs, holding your face between both hands as his spine arches over your body and leans his face toward your face so he can kiss the air right out of your lungs.

You two had made out before but compared to this? Jesus H.

You hear the sound of your own soft whine as he readjusts and the movement presses his strong thigh firmly against your core. You watch as he breaks the kiss just to groan, already so satisfied, so intoxicated by you.

“That’s right pretty girl, just let yourself feel good, I’m gonna take care of everything, gonna take real good care of you,” he rambles, eyes squeezed shut as he nods at nobody in particular.

“You want that, baby? You gonna let me make you feel like you deserve?” He forces his eyes open to stare at you. Good God. You nod, another desperate sound that could maybe pass for a “Yes” pressing its way out of your chest.

“Atta girl,” he says before tearing his own shirt off, the garment landing somewhere on your living room floor.

He pushes his fingers beneath the fabric of the robe you’re still wearing, slowly slipping it off of you, saying, “Now anything you don’t want me to do, anything you want me to stop, you let me know, yeah? Let me hear you, baby.”

The robe is quickly abandoned beneath you as you all but blubber out a “Yeah, yes, Steve, I will.”

He stands up, leaving you confused for a moment.

“I’m not doing this with you for the first time on your couch. C’mon, sweet thing, up,” he says, reaching for your hands.

You take his and let him lead you to your own bedroom, shutting the door behind the two of you despite your living alone. In a way, it’s perfect, isolated in a way that makes you feel like it’s just you and him.

He turns to you, walking up to your form and kissing you again, his hands reclaiming their space on the sides of your face. You’re sure you’ll never get tired of that feeling.

His kisses last long, but almost not enough, his lips moving down to your jaw, your neck, searching for that spot that makes you—

“Oh, fuck, Steve.”

Found it.

He hones in on the spot, kissing and licking at it gently. His aim isn’t to leave a mark — not here, anyway — but just to make you feel good.

By the way you’re panting in his ear? He’s pretty sure he’s succeeding.

He walks you backwards, careful, only detaching himself from your neck to help lay you down gently. He crawls over top of you, his body caging yours.

Your shirt has ridden up, revealing a touch of midriff to Steve. It only makes him more feral.

He plays with the hem of your shirt, warm fingers brushing against the skin below.

“Can I take this off for you?” he asks.

You’re nodding, already moving to help him strip the fabric from your form. You weren’t wearing a bra because, truly, why would you be wearing one in your own home, so his eyes are free to land right on your chest and watch the soft jiggling as you breathe in and out.

You had worried that he might pick out spots on your body that made you insecure, but that worry flies out the window when you see that same hungry look back in his eyes.

Frankly, he looks so desperate, you almost feel bad.

“It’s okay, Steve, do what you want. I’ll tell you to stop if I don’t like it,” you say, encouraging him.

You truly do not have to tell him twice.

First he’s kissing that spot on your neck again, earning a breathy sigh and a pleased smile from your lips. Then he travels, lips attaching to your collarbone, and you feel it as he kisses his way down to your breast, sucking a nipple into his mouth, thumb rubbing over the other one as his tongue works at this one.

That earns a good bit more than a sigh.

“Holy shit, Steve… that feels so, ah,” your voice grows pitchy as you bite back your moans. Your refusal to let him hear you doesn’t bother him one bit. It just means he has to work harder to pull those pretty sounds from you.

He switches his lips to your other breast, mouth laving messily over this nipple as his other thumb slips and slides across the one he just left.

You already feel so good, but you know he’s just getting started. The thought makes you shiver.

Once he’s satisfied with the attention he’s given to your nipples, he expands his journey across the map of your skin and starts sucking at the underside of your breasts, leaving marks only you and he will ever get to see. Whichever breast he’s not busy leaving darkening splotches on is being squeezed and squished, only adding to the feelings that all seem to be directed right at your quickly-soaking cunt.

Having left you littered with marks, some even landing on your torso and the soft skin of your belly, Steve looks up at you, lips swollen and wet from his hard work.

“Please say I can go down on you,” he sighs out, sounding like he’s in another world.

You balk at that for a moment, worried.

“You don’t have to Steve, I know guys don’t really like-”

“I want to. So, so fucking bad. I want to make you feel good and I need to taste you or I might actually explode. I don’t care how you keep it or what it looks like, I just, fuck!” His voice is pleading, his desire bleeding through every syllable.

He takes his kisses down to your hips, pushing your sweatpants and panties down just a touch to reveal more of your entirely-too-kissable body. He’s sucking at the thin skin there, leaving his mark on yet another inch of you.

“Please baby, if you want it, please let me,” he whines out, an incredibly sweet and needy sound.

Well shit. Who are you to say no to that?

“Okay, yeah, yes, you can, Steve,” you rush out, turned on beyond belief.

“God, yes, that’s my girl,” he mutters out, not even pausing to consider the effect those words are having on you.

You’d find it inconsiderate if it didn’t make you want him so much more.

His fingers are quick to hook back into both your bottoms, tapping the side of your hip so you’ll lift them as he all but tears the clothing from your legs. He easily spreads your now-bare limbs, eyes laser-focused on the absolutely sopping wet pussy that he unveils.

“Holy shit… is this all because of me?” he questions, experimentally sliding a finger through your folds, gathering your slick.

You laugh, breathless. “Have we been in the same room this whole time? I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on in my life.”

His dick has been hard for a hot minute now, so that confession earns an almost painful twitch.

He can’t find it in himself to ask any more questions, just sliding your pretty thighs over his shoulder, kissing them as he makes his way down to where you need him most.

The first lick is thorough, but gentle. A trembling whimper leaves your lips, then the sound of his name.

He finds himself moaning at your taste, desperation to drink you in winning out.

He presses his tongue right into your waiting hole, occasional moans against you earning him yet another flood of your juices to taste, a tantalizing squeeze of your walls around him only complimenting the flavor.

He moves to lap at your folds, greedy, head only coming to a stop once he’s got the flat of his tongue rubbing circles over your clit. You finally lose the battle you’d been fighting, letting out a moan that makes you thankful your last next door neighbor just moved out last week.

Steve, cheeky as ever, smiles at this, hot breath from a laugh billowing past his tongue and onto you. He’s almost too good at this.

He gives thick, teasing licks to your clit, each one serving as punctuation as he talks to you.

“Best fucking pussy… Fuck… could eat this pretty pussy… mm… for the rest of my life… so good,” he murmurs, absolutely drunk on you.

“Steve…” you whine out, needing him so badly it nearly hurts.

“Oh, darlin’, I know,” Lick. “I know, pretty girl,” Lick. “Just need’ya,” Lick. “To be patient for me,” Lick. “Doing so good,” Lick. “Making me so proud.”

He picks right then to properly dive in, licking and sucking on you until you can hear your own heartbeat, feel it in your throat. The sounds you make for him are downright debauched, curses and expletives floating in between the sound of his name. He couldn’t be happier.

You’ve been clenching around nothing for some time now as been pleasuring you, though, and that doesn’t sit right with him.

So, before you know it, Steve is working one, then two fingers into your dripping heat, reaching farther inside of you than you ever could. Your hands quickly seat themselves among the roots of his hair, holding his head exactly where you want him.

Your cries ring out freely through the air, a weak, “I’m so close,” the only interruption. Your thighs have begun to squeeze around Steve’s head. He’s not sure if you’re trying to keep him there forever or shut him out but, it’s all the same to him. He’d happily wear you like a pair of earmuffs for the rest of the night. Best damn pair he ever owned, if he did say so himself.

He holds steady with his actions, moving his fingers just so inside you, repeating the same motion of his tongue against your clit until it hurts, but he’s well rewarded for his efforts.

“Oh, fuck, Steve, I think I’m… fuck, I’m gonna—” you’re forced to cut yourself off as an orgasm overtakes your body, pouring pounds of pleasure over you all at once like one of those giant buckets at a water park. It’s electric, overwhelming, and so, so good. Your moans lilt out, high pitched and shaped something like Steve’s name.

He works you through it; he doesn’t stop until you peel his head from between your legs, pulling him up for a kiss that leaves you both lightheaded, exchanging moans between each others mouths as your bodies press together. You can taste yourself on him, something you didn’t expect to make you as feral as it does.

Steve breaks the kiss, sitting back on his knees to admire his handiwork. Gorgeous, angry little hickies have already begun to bloom beneath your satin skin. He’s excited for the day they fade so he can go back and replace them.

You watch him, laying breathless while he ogles you with a smirk, scanning your body up and down to appreciate the beautiful mess he’s made of it.

It makes you decide that payback may be due.

Steve stands, ridding himself of his bottoms, hard cock swinging free. You can’t help but think to yourself how pretty he is, how unfair it is that he’s so pretty everywhere.

You move to get up on your knees in front of Steve where he stands next to the bed, kissing his face, his jaw, his neck, his chest, his—

“Wait, wait, baby, wait,” he stops you mid-descent. “As hot as it is that you want to return the favor, I don’t think I’ll last and I really, really need to be inside you.”

It’s your turn to smirk now, but before you do, you turn those same pleading eyes he weaponized against you right back at him.

“Please, Stevie? I’ll be gentle, I’ll go real slow,” you say, fluttering your eyelashes up at him.

He presses his palms into his eyes, losing the fight for control going on in his head.

“…Fuck, just please be careful, no funny business, yeah?” he sighs out, looking down at you.

You let on that smirk now, and finish kissing your way down his body, laying on your stomach. Your tongue just barely teases the tip, a small kitten lick that grants you a drop of precum. He tenses at the feeling, sheer pleasure already making him regret his own weakness toward you. It’s all he can do not to blow his load at just the idea of what’s going on right now.

Gently, you place a hand beneath his dick, feeling the weight of it, your mouth watering. You wrap your fingers around it, careful not to use too much pressure. You look him in the eye as you pull just the head into your mouth, moaning around him.

“You’re gonna kill me, holy shit,” Steve says.

You giggle a bit, moving your mouth up and down just a bit, cautious of any sudden movements that might prove too overwhelming.

“Feels too good baby, won’t be able to keep going like this,” he pants, sensitive and whining.

You pull off of him with a soft pop. “Compromise, then?”

He’s not sure what you mean until-

“Jesus fucking Christ baby, holy shit, shit, shit!” Steve is fighting for his life at the sight of you softly stroking his cock with one of his balls pulled securely into your mouth.

You can tell by that reaction and by the purely distraught look on his face that he won’t let you stay down here for much longer, so you make the most of it.

You suck gently, continuing to stroke. You switch to the other side, but not without licking a fat stripe from his base to his tip, earning a strangled noise of pleasure.

“God, you’re cruel,” he whimpers out, unable to contain his own soft moans and sighs as you work.

Steve feels himself getting a little closer than he’d like. “Alright, that’s enough of that for you, missy,” he says as he pulls away from your touch, laughing at the noise of protest you make as he does.

“Don’t worry darlin’, just lay back for me,” he says, walking over to the jeans he had discarded earlier.

You do as he says with only a slight grumble, but can’t help yourself as you watch Steve walk. Even his ass is pretty, you think as you watch him bend over and pull out his wallet, plucking a foil packet from its confines.

He turns around then, and you’ve been caught staring.

Steve smirks when you rush to meet his eyes, feigning nonchalance. “Perv,” he teases before getting back into the bed with you.

You’d protest, but then his hands, those hands, are working deftly to unwrap a condom and roll it on, and suddenly you find yourself entirely uninterested in your status as a pervert.

He crawls back on top of you, moving to kiss you softly, a sharp contrast to the intensity of the moments you two just shared.

He breaks it only to say three words: “I love you.”

Forehead pressed into his, you know you should be shocked, but you aren’t. It feels right. You tell him, too.

“I love you, Steve.”

He smiles at you dopily, and you’re sure a matching smile adorns your face.

“Are you ready, baby?” He asks, interlocking one of his hands with yours, nothing but adoration and loving concern in his eyes.

You nod. “I want this, I want you,” you tell him honestly.

Steve presses one last sweet kiss to your lips, selfishly savoring the taste of them for just a little too long. He breaks it with a sigh. “I’ll go slow at first, sweetheart. You let me know if you need me to stop.”

You hum in agreement, focus resting between the two of you where he’s got your legs spread, kneeling in between them as he guides his cock to your entrance.

Slowly, almost too slowly, he pushes himself in, both of you groaning in relief when the head is in. He presses forward, meeting little resistance from your slippery heat. He sighs happily once he’s seated in you fully, just enjoying being enveloped in your warmth.

He probably would have stayed there if it wasn’t for the wiggle of your hips and the sudden clench he felt from inside of you.

“You can move, Stevie. Need it,” you sigh.

He takes the instruction, and both of you are wrecked as he works into a rhythm.

Your eyes flutter shut as you moan, but that won’t do for Steve.

“Nuh uh,” he says, dropping the hand he’s holding and getting down, shifting his weight to his elbows so he can hold your face in his hands. “Eyes on me. I don’t want to miss a thing.” His tone urges your compliance, so you give it to him, looking into his eyes.

Fuck.

The way your eyes bore into each others is nearly too much, the feeling of his hands splayed across your cheeks, your jaw, your temple… your senses are being flooded, and all your brain can compute is Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve.

He can see every reaction you give him, every hitch of your breath, adjusting until he’s in the perfect position for you, the squeezes of your fluttering cunt driving him wild.

You’re helpless, being held captive by your own pleasure, and Steve is only adding to it, talking to you in ramblings of his own pleasure.

“God, you know what you’re fucking doing to me?”

“Feels so good, sweet girl. Never wanna fuck another pussy again, only yours.”

“That’s it, baby, take it, take it. Doing so well for me, my gorgeous girl.”

“You like that? That feel good? Oh, I bet it does, huh?”

“Taking me like a champ, always knew you’d be good for me.”

You want to respond, you really do, but the way he’s talking to you, the way he’s pounding into you just right, the way he’s looking you right in your eyes as he speaks this utter filth, has left you wordless, only moaning and whining out little ah, ah, ah, fuck’s that only spur him on.

You feel your undoing start to form and begin to reach down, needing some attention on your clit to cross there.

“Don’t do that baby, let me. You close?” he says as he shifts all of his weight now to the one elbow, keeping your face in that hand as the other snakes down to rub circles just where you need them, making you whimper, fighting to keep your eyes open.

You nod at his question. “So close… gonna make me cum again, Stevie,” you manage to get out, snaking your arms around his neck, clinging to him desperately.

His eyes never leave yours. “Tell me what you need. Wanna feel you when you cum, feel you soak my cock.”

“F-faster.”

You barely get the word out before he starts to nearly double his speed, desperate to get you there, sharp, shallow, fast thrusts leaving you to just wail.

“Oh, fuck, Steve, please, please, fuck, please,” you ramble out, unsure what you’re begging for.

“C’mon, give it to me, you’re right there, cum for me.”

The perfect circles on your clit, the pistoning of his hips, the way he stares at you so intensely, egging you on? It all proves to be too much, and you feel yourself thrown off that cliff and into pure, sweet pleasure as your release rolls through you, Steve’s name on your tongue.

Steve cants into you desperately, rhythm breaking as he chases his own high, which is coming on much faster largely because of you. Feeling you grip him like a vice, and having watched just how angelic you look when you cum? He wasn’t going to be able to hold back much longer.

Overstimulated and desperate, you start to egg him on the same way he had egged you on.

“Please, cum, Steve, I wanna feel it. Need to feel you finish so bad, feels too good, please, baby,” you breathe out. “Do it just for me, yeah?”

That’s a wrap for Steve. His thrusts grow lazy as you feel him twitch inside you, condom filling quickly with his load. He keeps thrusting until it hurts, only then settling down, pressing his forehead into yours, kissing all over your face gently as you both bask in the afterglow.

“You’re so perfect,” he mutters, his desperation for you to hear him, believe him, making his expression look almost pained as he squeezes his eyes shut. “It’s always gonna be you for me, you know that?”

You’re unsure how to respond, really. You find yourself so wrapped up in a warm, buzzy feeling, your adoration for him leaking all over your brain’s wiring, causing it to short circuit. So all you do is nod and close the distance between your mouths, giving him a kiss so gentle and loving that catches him in the moment. He wishes he could stay like this forever.

You both fight to end the kiss several times, but each time either of you pulls back even a little bit, you find yourselves pressing right back in for just one more.

When it finally does break, you look up at him and see the man you always knew, deep down, was here to stay. Your Steve.

“Thank you.”

He cocks his head. “You’re welcome, but what for?” Ever the gentleman.

“Just for being you.”

The two of you lay on your couch, Pretty in Pink over and quickly exchanged for When Harry Met Sally, an appropriately raunchy film for present company and previous activities.

You called out of work for the next day shortly after the two of you finally peeled out of bed. Steve had wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing soft encouraging kisses into your neck, your back, your shoulder as you rang your boss. You didn’t care if they thought you were only calling out because you were embarrassed; you know the truth doesn’t matter to these people, so you won’t waste it on them. All you want to do tomorrow is spend the day with your boyfriend, so you decided that that is what you’re going to do.

So there the you are, curled up in Steve’s arms for the foreseeable future, lips occasionally pressing into his wrists and hands as you held them. He hadn’t bothered with putting his shirt back on, and you let your robe sit where the two of you had ditched it earlier in favor of the warmth radiating from the chest against your back.

Sally fakes her orgasm in the diner, earning a laugh from both of you.

“I’m sure glad that I don’t ever have to question if you actually came,” Steve mutters, prompting you to tease.

“About that…”

“Bullshit!”

You giggle as his arms squeeze you in tighter, his lips attacking the side of your face and neck.

“Alright, alright, I yield, I yield! You are a true man in a sea of boys, you had me coming like a freight train, you win!”

His attack softens, smiley kisses becoming more intentional. He doesn’t let go of his now-tightened hold on you, though. He just likes having you close too much.

Steve mutters into your ear, shaking you gently in his arms to make his point. “I meant what I said earlier, you know. It wasn’t in the heat of the moment, I do love you.”

Somehow you find yourself far more flustered when he says that to you with his clothes on, but you know you feel the same.

“And I love you, Steve. Thank you for everything you did for me today… and I do mean everything,” you say, only a bit cheeky.

He nips at your ear, but still says, “Anytime, pretty girl. Anytime.”

You turn just a bit, hands tracing over his bruised knuckle and face, worry forming behind your eyes, just a small frown playing at your lips.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to try to cover those up for you? A quick run to the pharmacy and I’m sure I could find what I need to color correct,” you muse, but Steve just shakes his head.

“Nah, I kinda dig them. Makes me look a little badass! If anyone asks, I’ll just tell them they should see the other guy,” he pauses, but then says, quietly, “Plus, it’s pretty much like a shining badge of having defended your honor. Why would I ever cover that?” There’s a teasing tone behind his words but you can tell he really means it.

“Alright. You’re sweet. But please defend my honor without fists next time, I don’t want to have to look Hopper in the eye when I bail you out.”

“No promises, sweetheart,” he says, mischievous. You can hear his grin.

You roll your eyes, but you still smile.

You think you could get used to a life like this.

Thank you for reading! 🩵

[thriftedtchotchkes]

old dogs don't change

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: weeks after sleeping together, your no-strings-attached agreement goes up in flames when joel goes on a date with another woman. you make sure that never happens again. (sequel to keep it on the low)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, ex-boyfriend!joel, jackson era, tlou 2 jesse appearance, age gap, hurt, angst, smut, unprotected piv, post-breakup sex, rough sex, public sex, rough oral (m!receiving), exhibitionism, possessive behavior, jealousy, alcohol use, briefly dating other people

word count: 10.6k

You have no idea who she is, but you bet she’s a total bitch. Is that mean? Maybe. Do you give a shit? Nope.

To be fair, you’d probably say that about anyone Joel started dating after you, but that doesn’t mean it can’t still be true. Sure, you've never actually talked to her…or seen her before in your entire life, but that’s beside the point. She’s cute and bubbly, and everything you’re not, and that’s the point. 

It’s honestly a little comical how different the two of you are, and you can’t help but wonder if Tommy did that on purpose. You know he was the one who set them up. Everyone in the dining hall was talking about it this morning. The latest, hottest piece of gossip, bouncing from table to table like a cruel game of telephone. 

He probably thinks he’s protecting his big brother, but you think he needs to mind his own fucking business. It’s not like he knows anything about your relationship, not really. Well. It’s not your relationship anymore, is it? And Tommy, along with everyone else in this town, blames you for that.

Poor Joel, dumped by the biggest bitch in Jackson, who took advantage of his kindness and patience for years, and broke his heart when all he did was love her. Selfish, cold, and uncaring. Nothing like the pretty, perky girl sitting next to him in the booth they’re sharing at Seth’s. 

If only they knew what really happened.

The bar is especially busy, even for a Saturday night, so you figure no one’ll notice you blatantly glaring at them. It’s not like you care, anyway. You’re feeling warm and loose, and maybe a little too tipsy for your own good, but tonight, you get to do whatever the fuck you want. 

Because Joel’s sitting ten feet away with his arm slung around another woman, and it hurts. 

It sucks way worse than him avoiding you since the last time you slept together, after all of the things you did and said on that couch. The things he said. You shoo away the thought with another swig of beer, wishing you were drinking something stronger. It's for the best. 

If you get any drunker, you’ll probably end up doing something stupid, and the last thing you need is to prove everyone right that he’s better off without you. But you can’t seem to shake the anger that’s starting to simmer below the surface. 

With the emotional toll this night has already taken, you kind of don’t want to. So, you surrender to it. Fuck him. He’s a piece of shit for parading his new girl around right in front of you, and for breaking off your agreement without so much as a word. 

If he wanted to see other people, he should’ve opened his mouth and used his big boy words. Then again, he’s always been terrible at that, so why are you surprised? 

Maybe he’ll fuck her tonight. Touch her all of the ways you like because that’s all he knows anymore. She’ll moan for him, soft and sweet, gentle in her affection, just like she’s touching him right now. But it won’t satisfy him, and when he’s panting on top of her, chasing that all-consuming release only you can give him, you know he’ll be pretending she's you. 

Asshole.

You’re still watching them, shooting daggers from your spot at the bar, when your wish from earlier is granted. Two overflowing shot glasses topped with lime are placed in front of you, and you look up to see a very attractive dark-haired, brown-eyed man smirking down at you.

"Looked a little lonely over here," he says in a raspy baritone even lower than Joel's. He clinks the top of your beer bottle with the bottom of his own. "Thought you could use some company, maybe another drink."

Well, he’s right. You could use some company, and you’d love another drink. There’s no harm in having a little fun, right? If Joel’s doing it, then there’s nothing stopping you.

"So, both of these are for me, then?" you smile coyly, reaching for one. He nods, his own smile widening.

"Could be. Can I join ya?" he gestures to the empty stool next to you. 

He has this cocky look on his face like he already knows you'll say yes, and in your inebriated state, you think it's kind of hot. It reminds you of Joel when you first met. How he knew exactly what he wanted and wouldn't give up until it was his. Until you were his.

You consider him for a moment. He’s young, maybe even younger than you, and obviously confident enough to make a move on you. Fleetingly, you think he might end up being that stupid thing you do tonight, but then you down one of the shots and decide you don't actually care. 

What turns out to be tequila burns the entire way down, and you immediately pick up a slice of lime. You’re hyperaware of the way his eyes lock onto your mouth as you suck on the sour fruit, lingering when a droplet of juice dribbles down your chin. 

It’s not a total surprise when he reaches up to thumb it away, but you are taken off guard by how strange it makes you feel. The pad of his finger is disappointingly smooth, no weathering or even a hint of a callus. You're not sure why that matters to you, but you can take a decent guess.

You chance a glance over at Joel's table and, of course, you have his full attention now. His entire body looks tense, from his hand clenched on the table to the prominent vein bulging angrily in his neck. 

Good. Now he knows how it feels.

Looking back up at your mystery guy, you run your tongue along your bottom lip, catching any remaining lime before you finally give him an answer. 

"Sure. Pop a squat, cowboy," you giggle. It doesn't even sound like you and feels wrong the second it passes your lips, but as long as Joel heard it, that's all that matters. "You got a name?"

He replies, but you're too busy keeping an eye on Joel in your peripheral to catch what he says. In the back of your mind, you think that’s probably a good thing. You'd rather not know, especially if you do end up taking him home. 

Mystery guy laughs at your noncommittal hum and you realize you’ve been caught. But he doesn’t seem upset. It’s clear he’s amused by your obvious interest elsewhere and that piques your curiosity. 

Any other guy here would’ve been pissed by your apathy, especially if they’d bothered to buy you a drink that you accepted, but apparently not this one.

He sits down on the stool next to you, pulling it close enough that his knee presses against yours. You unconsciously lean into him, your skin erupting in goosebumps despite your growing unease.

He's...baffling. A total enigma. You can’t figure out what his deal is or why he’s choosing to keep pursuing you when your eyes have been glued to another man all night. 

The thought of letting this continue long enough to find out is a little thrilling. Might as well see where this goes. If it escalates, you’re more than confident in your ability to care of yourself.

But it happens sooner than you expect. His hand finds the back of your stool and, then, his lips are suddenly right next to your cheek. You can feel the warmth of them as he tilts his head to whisper in your ear.

“Look, not try'na to overstep, but…,” his eyes dart to where Joel’s sitting, unreservedly ignoring his date. The poor thing barely notices, chattering away about something not nearly as important to him as watching you. His gaze returns to you, and you can feel him smirking. “You wanna make that guy you've been staring at all night jealous?"

That’s—wow. You didn’t see that one coming. He’s got a lot of audacity to assume that’s something you’d want, let alone offer…what? His services? 

But, then again, he isn’t wrong. Joel’s been the only thing on your mind since you walked into Seth’s tonight and saw him with her. He’s always on your mind if you’re being totally honest with yourself. It’s plain to see, obvious to every single person in this bar including the man himself.

You eye your mystery guy curiously for a second before nodding, your lips quirking into a small smirk. Maybe it’s time to prove to Joel and everyone else in this judgmental town that you’ve moved on, too. That you’re not the sad, bitter shrew that deserves to be alone.

"Yeah, actually, I do," you reply cautiously. But there's still one lingering question that has yet to be answered. "I just…why? I don’t get why you’re helping me. What are you getting out of this?”

He shrugs, and somehow you can just tell by the look in his eyes that there’s no hidden agenda. You’re not sure how you’re just noticing, but he has kind eyes. This whole time, he’s been nothing but patient and attentive, like Joel always was—...is? 

Was.

You almost wish you could fall for someone like this man instead of pathetically clinging to your past. Maybe you’ll at least get a friend out of this crazy night, if nothing else. But then you remember one, tiny problem with that idea.

“Can you tell me your name again? I promise you have my full attention this time,” you smile sheepishly. He chuckles good-naturedly and, again, doesn’t seem to hold it against you.

“It’s Jesse,” he says with a deep, southern drawl you should probably be more attracted to. “And let’s just say I know how it feels to want someone ya can’t have.”

You nod slowly, understanding perfectly. Except—you didn't realize up until this moment that that's exactly what you want. Someone you can't ever have. 

And it took seeing Joel with someone else, his body pressed up against a woman that isn't you, to realize it. Well, that fucking sucks.

You decide not to ask about Jesse's situation. It's not your business and, anyway, you're both trying to feel better about your circumstances, not worse. 

There’s a silent sense of camaraderie between you that tells you to throw caution to the wind. Tossing back the second shot, you turn your stool to face his, literally and figuratively turning your back on Joel. 

“It’s really nice to meet you, Jesse,” you murmur, and you genuinely mean it. He grins, leaning in slowly, still giving you time to back out if you want to, but you don't. 

Eat your heart out, Joel Miller. This one's for you.

"S'nice to meet you, too," he replies softly. 

Then, his lips are on yours. The kiss is wet and open-mouthed, and yet he handles you so delicately. He cradles your face in his hands as his tongue brushes against yours, and you moan softly into his mouth, letting your body get lost in the way he feels. And he feels so—

Much different than Joel. 

All you can think about is how much you miss Joel's rough touch, the way he'd thread his fingers through your hair and tug you into his mouth, nearly devouring you whole. Joel kissed you like every time might be the last, right up until it actually was. 

Fucking hell, why can't you just enjoy this without him ruining it for you?

You try to forget about it, about him, licking into Jesse's mouth a little more aggressively, and he groans, his body eager and responsive. It's probably more than you should be doing in public, sitting at a bar surrounded by people but, hell, you want them to see. 

They can say whatever they want about you. You're done giving a shit.

And, boy, will they have a lot to talk about after tonight. Joel makes sure of that. It happens so fast, you barely register that Jesse’s lips aren’t on yours anymore like they should be.

One moment, Jesse's hands are trailing down your sides to your waist, and the next, he's being forcibly dragged off you. Between you stands a broad, imposing figure ensuring you stay separated.

Your mind goes blank, and all you can do is watch in shock and disbelief as Joel lets loose on him, his words possessive and almost nonsensical. 

"The fuck you think you're doin' touchin' her like that? Y'need to learn how to keep your hands to yourself, kid, before ya get yourself in trouble," he grits out angrily. 

To his credit, Jesse stays cool and collected, but it’s not enough. There’s already a few pairs of eyes on you, drawn by the physical altercation, and it won’t be long before the rest of the bar notices the impending fight.

"Respectfully, sir, s'long as the lady consents, I'll put my hands wherever she wants," Jesse replies, standing his ground. He tries to move around him to return to your side, but Joel fixes him with a look that sends a shiver down your spine.

"S'that really a good idea?" Joel sounds menacing and looks even more so the longer the conversation continues. 

You’re still numb to everything unfolding in front of you and it’s not until Jesse’s next to you again, snaking an arm around your waist, that you finally come to. The reality of your situation hits you like a ton of bricks and now you’re mad. You open your mouth to retaliate, but Jesse cuts you off before you can get a word in.

“There a reason it wouldn’t be?” he turns the question back on Joel and you tense, anticipating a less-than-friendly answer. Jesse squeezes your hip in reassurance, but it does nothing to soothe your unease. He doesn’t know Joel like you do.

“Kid, do I look like I’m fuckin’ around? Take your hands off her and walk away. M'not gonna tell you again,” he all but growls, taking a threatening step forward. 

Neither of you back down. Jesse’s arm stays firm around you as your nails bite into your palm. It's taking everything you've got not to make a bigger scene than you already have.

You knew it. Since the breakup, you’ve been trying to reconcile this increasingly unfamiliar man with the Joel you gave your entire heart to all those years ago. With each passing month, the differences between the two become more and more obvious.

He's angrier now and has so much less patience. It's not that he's unkind. You know that no matter what his circumstances are, Joel will continue to be a good man. But he has a hair trigger, especially when it comes to you. 

And he wants. God, he always wants you. It’s not that you didn’t have an active sex life before everything fell apart. He just...fucks you differently now. Possessively and without restraint, like he needs to be sure you're satisfied enough to never need anyone else. The agreement to keep sleeping together was actually his idea. And it worked for a while—until it suddenly didn't. 

Now, you're forced to come face-to-face with that reality. Sitting at this bar, you spent the entirety of the night believing he'd decided he didn't want you anymore, that he was ready to find happiness in something simpler than sneaking around with his ex.

Except, it's starting to feel like maybe that's not as true as he made it seem. Like he never should've gone on this date in the first place.

"What the fuck, Joel?" you hiss, fighting to keep your volume under control. Not that it matters. The entire bar is staring at you, their eyes ping-ponging back and forth like they're watching a tennis match. "Back the fuck off. Now. This is none of your business."

"The hell it ain't my business. Some kid's runnin' his hands all over another man's girl and y'think that ain't my business?" 

His trembling hands clench into fists at his sides and, while you’re betting the rest of the bar thinks he’s preparing for a fight, that isn’t Joel. It might be you, though, if he keeps this up.

"Excuse me? And whose girl am I—yours? Because I'm pretty sure your girl is sitting over there in that booth. Or did you forget about your date?"

For a moment, he actually has the nerve to look ashamed, like he feels bad about leaving her all alone at their table and for humiliating her in front of all these people. He avoids her crestfallen gaze, likely not ready to face the hurt he’s caused. 

But it only lasts for a second before his eyes darken again, focused solely on you. As if Jesse, his pretty date, and everyone else in this bar disappeared, and it's just you and him. This conversation doesn't include them anymore. It's a private matter now.

"We're leavin'," he says with finality, his tone leaving no room for argument. 

He should know better. That's not how things work with you. You’re a fighter, a trait he’s always loved about you, even if your ire was directed at him. Back then, it rarely was.

"You're out of your mind if you think I'm leaving with you," you scoff bitterly. "Go back to your date, I'll go back to mine, and we can forget about this. All of it. We're done, Joel."

He shakes his head, mouth tipping down into a frown like he's thinking something over. Then, he huffs out a laugh. Like, an actual laugh, and you start to think maybe he really has lost his mind.

"Y'know, I really don't think we are, darlin'," he drawls dangerously. 

He's on you in an instant, his hand wrapped tightly around your arm as he drags you out of the bar. You briefly consider resisting, but he's moving too quickly. All of those shots you downed combined with the beer you drank earlier go straight to your head, and you're suddenly overwhelmingly distracted by the feeling of his skin on yours.

Fuck, it feels like it's been so long. In reality, you know it's only been a few weeks but, god, you missed it. His hands on your body, anywhere at all on your body. You'd hate how quickly you forget about Jesse if you could think about anything else but those familiar, rough fingertips.

The way they dig into you, reminiscent of how he'd squeeze your thighs or clutch your waist when he was making love to you.

...Wait, what? No...no, fuck. Why is he making this so difficult? Why—Christ...why can't you just leave each other alone? If he never planned on letting you go, he shouldn't have broken up with you. And if he still wanted you this badly...all he had to do was ask. You would've said yes in a heartbeat.

So, you let him steal you away, out into the brisk, wintry air that does little to cool your fury or the heat beginning to coil in your belly. The door shuts noisily behind you, and you immediately wrench your arm out of his grasp before he can say a word. It's your turn to talk now.

"What is wrong with you? You can't just...fuck, you can't do shit like this!" You're seething, practically shaking in your rage, and his expression doesn't look much different. 

"And you can? I dunno what the hell you were thinkin' gettin’ cozy with some goddamn kid, lettin’ him touch ya like that in front of the whole town," he reiterates harshly. He's starting to sound like a broken record. It's the only leverage he's got, and you both know it's flimsy at best.

"Some kid? Jesse's a fucking adult, clearly more mature than you," you bite back. "And it’s a bar, Joel. That's what people do at bars."

Joel scoffs, and you can tell he hates the way Jesse's name falls from your lips. Especially when those lips were on yours not even ten minutes ago. 

"And who are you to decide who can and can't touch me? You broke up with me," you continue resentfully. "You don't get a say anymore."

At that, his face becomes unreadable. He didn't need the reminder, and you know that, but it needed to be said for both of your sakes. Sometimes you think maybe he actually forgets it was his choice to give you up. That he didn't realize his decision would hurt you as much as it hurt him.

"So, what? You gonna take him home then, let him fuck ya?" He leans in close, so close you can feel his soft, graying curls against your temple and the coarse drag of his beard across your cheek. 

"Kiss ya here—," a finger trails delicately down the side of your neck to his spot above your collarbone, then continues down to where you've been aching for him for weeks, "—taste ya here." 

You slap his hand away before he can get any further, but your reaction only spurs him on. How could you forget? He likes that.

"Y'know he can't make ya feel as good as I do. Fuck you just how y'like it, make ya cum as hard as I do," he drawls confidently, almost smugly, in your ear. "Don't ya?"

It's less a question than a statement, because you both know he's right. Joel knows your body better than anyone ever has, maybe even better than you know it yourself. Just as much as you know his. And it's sort of funny. You were thinking the exact same thing about him with his date earlier.

"Sure, Joel. Just like you were gonna take that girl home, right?" You raise an eyebrow, turning your head so your lips graze his skin. "Pretty little thing like her, I bet she likes it slow and romantic. She’ll probably even stick around for a snuggle and some pillow talk. You'd love that.”

Even as you mock him, the sneer marring your face doesn’t quite meet your eyes, and the spiteful nature of your words tastes acrid as they pass your lips. He’s so good at that. Always able to bring out the worst in you to prove his point—that he’s no good for you.

But you stand firm, your chest pressed flush against his in a show of determination. You're still in control here, unlike Joel, whose fingers are twitching noticeably at his sides like he's just itching to get his hands on you again. 

"Maybe I would. Liked it with you, didn't I?" he murmurs wistfully, and that catches you completely off guard.

His words are almost too gentle to belong in this argument, and it doesn’t feel fair. What's worse, he looks like he means them. You’d prefer the fight, the aggression of the man who dragged you out of the bar. Not this. Not these traces of your Joel. 

You can already feel your resolve slipping, and the rapid thrum of your heartbeat tells you to let it. When his hands finally take their rightful place on your waist, he’s in control again.

The cool evening air is suddenly stifling, and you’re starting to feel like you’re suffocating, your thoughts a jumbled, heated haze of anger and fear and want. He squeezes hard enough to pull your hips into his and you unintentionally buck, allowing his hands to travel up your shirt. 

There's an intensity to his gaze, tinged with an unexpected tenderness. He almost looks...sated. Fulfilled, now that you're back in his arms. But not completely, not yet.

"You still haven't answered my question," he mutters. His hands splay across your ribcage, high enough for his thumbs to tease the undersides of your breasts.

You bite down hard on your bottom lip, sliding your hands up his chest to push him away so you can catch your breath, but your body won't cooperate. It's been well-trained to crave his touch. Exhaling sharply through your nose, you fist his shirt and instead pull him impossibly closer.

"You asked a lot of questions tonight. You're gonna have to be a little more specific,” you pant heavily.

It's getting more difficult to think, now, with the warmth of his body against you, his thumbs shifting higher to stroke your stiffening nipples. He urges your hips forward again to meet his, and you can already feel him straining in his jeans.

You whimper helplessly, unable to curb the way your body's reacting to him, and the soft sound causes something in him to snap. He suddenly backs you up against the hard brick of the bar's exterior and begins to grind languidly into your stomach. 

"Y'really believe that boy can take care of a woman like you? Hm?" He interrogates you, his voice gravelly and uneven in your ear. "Tell me I'm the only one who can give you what ya need. Wanna hear ya say it."

Fuck, you can't lie to him. As much as you want to, it's just one more thing your body won't allow you to do. Not when he's working you up like this. 

"You're the only one," you moan around your admission. He's still crowding you into the wall, his hands greedily roaming your soft curves.

His eyes meet yours, darting quickly to your mouth before he leans in to kiss you passionately like he’s rewarding you. It only lasts for a second, one deliciously fleeting second, before he pulls away. You’re not sure why you let him. Or why you kissed back.

"Who's the only man who can make ya scream?" he demands a little more urgently.

"You, Joel,” you murmur obediently, your lips already parted and ready for your prize.

And he acquiesces—another insistent kiss that doesn’t last nearly long enough. This time, you chase him, but he jerks his head back. He still has one last question for you. Except, this time, he looks afraid of the answer. 

"Whose girl are ya?"

He whispers it so softly, you barely catch it over the whistling, nighttime breeze. As he brushes a few ruffled strands of hair behind your ear, you answer without hesitation. 

"Yours, Joel."

His entire body relaxes. Now, he's complete.

"Damn right, you are—"

Then, the front door bursts open next to you, and he's abruptly cut off. Joel is quick to tug you around the corner into the alleyway before anyone can spot you, but he's not fast enough to keep you from seeing who just left the bar.

Jesse.

And there it is. A shock to the system, enough to clear some of that smoky, nostalgic haze and bring you back to the present. But as everything hurtles back for the second time tonight, this time around, you can’t be mad because he’s right.

Of course, you're not Jesse's girl. As pathetic as it sounds, you'll always be Joel's because he’s the only one who can take care of you and give you what need. The only man who can make you scream. But that goes both ways.

Even though he’s been picking fights all night, he hasn’t raised his voice once. It's not the way he wins his battles. So, maybe it's time to remind Joel Miller that there is someone who can make him scream. But he isn't allowed to unless you say so.

It all feels eerily familiar—his fingers digging into your waist and your lips crashing into his hard enough to bruise. You lead him deeper into the alley, back to where the glow of the string lights above the bar can't reach you, before you separate from him. 

Neither of you wants to be the one to say it, but it needs to be heard. Here, in the dark, you can be his completely, but once you part ways and return to your empty beds, that's it. Just like last time. The reasons for your breakup are still very real, and that means your relationship can't be.

"Only here. Right, Joel?"   

He stays silent for a moment, his gaze filled with deep longing and sadness. It almost makes you want to take it back. Take him back. So, when he shakes his head and cups your cheeks, kissing you like this might be his last chance, you're not surprised in the slightest.

And after this whole night—this whole confusing, fucked-up night—you let him. Right now, he needs this. Maybe you do, too.

His lips taste like whiskey and relief, and you return his kiss with all of the passion and fervor he’s pouring into you. You’re both a little frantic in the way you touch each other, but as much as you don’t want it to, it makes perfect sense. 

Those few weeks without each other felt like years, and now that his hands are back on your body and his voice, deep and dulcet, is in your ear telling you how badly he wants you, you don’t want to let him go again.

You grind the heel of your hand into the front of his jeans and his responding groan pleases you more than it probably should. This. This is yours—his pleasure, his attention, him. They belong to you and you alone. Not his pretty, perky fucking date. 

The sudden possessiveness stuns you for a moment, but it's not enough to stop the feeling from consuming you. This must be how it feels for Joel. It's potent and feels so, so…right. You're starting to think you've felt this way for a while.

"I needed you, and you made me wait so fucking long," you gasp against his lips, and the fingers cradling your face tense. You’re still fisting his shirt, nearly hard enough to tear, and you wrench it up from where it’s tucked into his pants. 

"M'sorry, darlin', I know. I know I did,” he rasps back, following your lead and dropping his hands from your cheeks so he can unbuckle his jeans. “M'gonna make it up to ya. Tell me what you want, I’ll give it to ya.”

You want everything. Everything he has to give, you want it all. After everything you've been through, the hurt he caused you, you deserve it. And right now, what you want is for him to feel so good, he'll never go on a date with someone who isn't you ever again.

Sharp gravel bites into your bare skin as you drop to your knees in front of him. He's already so hard under all that heavy fabric and looks desperate above you. Just as desperate as you are for him to replace the flavor of Jesse's tequila and lime on your tongue with something saltier and headier, and undeniably Joel.

You hastily unbutton and unzip his jeans, not wasting any more of the precious time you have left together, before tugging them down just enough to free his cock and balls. He looks...fucking mouth-watering—flushed and red and leaking, and so goddamn thick. You wrap your hand around him and he sighs gratefully, dribbling precum onto your fingers.

"This is what I want," you finally reply, keeping your eyes locked on his as you lean forward to lick a broad line up his cock. He hisses in a breath through his teeth, his thighs already beginning to tremble, and you brace your hand on one. "But you're gonna be quiet, okay? I'm gonna suck your cock and you're not gonna make a single sound."

His expression darkens, but he agrees to your terms, nonetheless.

"Sure, darlin'. Whatever you say," he nods, gazing down at you with furrowed brows. He cradles your face in his hand and brushes his thumb along your cheekbone.

The affectionate gesture isn't lost on you, but this time you accept it. Instinctively leaning into his touch, you revel in it for a brief moment before his cock pulsing a frantic rhythm against your palm becomes an unignorable distraction. But a welcome one.

"That's my boy," you mumble against the tip. Just as a pained noise escapes his parted lips, you swallow him down as far as you can take him, purposely gagging yourself on him before you can dwell on the words that accidentally just tumbled out.

Your boy. Your boy. It echoes in your mind, ricocheting wildly and painfully like a bullet. Before you can take it back, maybe even to keep you from taking it back, he buries his fingers in your hair and holds you in place. You choke around him, trying your best to breathe through your nose, but in doing so, you take in a lungful of the heady musk at his base.

The familiarity of it all sends you reeling. He only gives you a second to adjust before he's fucking into your mouth and biting back a litany of needy sounds that rival your own wet, audible gagging. Your grip on his thigh tightens as your throat relaxes, allowing you to take him deeper, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing every time he grazes the back of your throat. 

Tears stream down your cheeks and he wipes them away with a much too tender swipe of his thumb, even as he continues to force you up and down his cock. But you're too lost in your pleasure to notice anymore. So fucking good, you feel so, so good. But you need more, and you're not willing to pull off of him just yet.

Tugging down the front of your shirt, you roll a sensitive nipple between your fingers, and, god, that helps. You imagine they're Joel's and it amplifies the sensation, though your fingertips are still too smooth and delicate. Then, they're replaced by exactly what you've been yearning for all night. 

“You don’t even know how beautiful y'look like this,” he grits out, his fingers running through your hair with one hand and roughly cupping your breast with the other. His hips stutter, and you moan around him. “Fuckin’ perfect. How are ya so fuckin’ perfect?”

Beautiful. More beautiful than her? Well, you must be, because you’re the one here on your knees, choking on his cock, and she’s still sitting in the bar wondering if her date will ever come back. 

He won’t.

You preen without meaning to, your eyes blearily finding his while you drool around him, dripping saliva down his balls and onto your bare breasts. It's as if the visual alone has him thrusting into your mouth faster, pushing your limits only as much as he knows you can take. You must look like a wet dream right now, his wet dream, with your watery eyes and swollen, split-slick lips wrapped tightly around him.

Yet, he's remained so, so quiet this entire time, just like you told him to. Joel likes his sex loud, regardless of where you are and who might hear, so if he’s following your rules, that means something. 

It means he'll do whatever it takes to have you. The realization crashes over you like a bucket of ice water, and then you're pulling off of him. 

“You’ll give me anything, right? Anything I want?” your voice cracks around the question, wrecked from the effort of taking him. His hips chase your hand as you continue to pump him, matching his previous, unforgiving pace. 

“That ain’t a question, y’know I will,” he replies breathily and without hesitation. 

You gaze up at him, praying your eyes convey all of the need and anguish and hope you've felt since the last time you slept together. Since the last time you were his.

“Fuck me," and you won't accept anything less than his all. Not that half-assed shit he would've given her. "Fuck me."

He understands. His heart rate kicks up, thrumming wildly against the palm of your hand, and you know he does.

The growl that rumbles through his chest is nearly soundless but powerful. An entire night's worth of tension culminating in a single exhaled breath, just before he drags you up and spins you around, bending you over against the wall. 

Bracing yourself on the harsh brick, you rush to give him better access, arching your back as he tugs your pants and underwear down to your knees. A callused hand runs upward, following the notches of your spine, while his other spreads across your waist, pulling your hips back onto his so you can feel him, heavy and leaking against your bare ass.

God, he’s so close to where you need him now. His knuckles graze your skin as he grips the base, pumping himself before the blunt head of his cock nudges your entrance.

But then, for some godforsaken reason, you feel a wave of panic. Time suddenly feels like it's running out, worsening with every subtle movement he makes. The ticking clock of your and Joel's relationship, perpetually stuck at two minutes to midnight, has sprung to life and that terrifies you.

You don't want him to stop—fuck, you don't want him to stop, but you know neither of you will last long once he's inside you. The build-up was too intense and this entire night has you both wound up so tight, you could snap at any moment. 

You need to savor this. The way you failed to on your couch all those weeks ago, and might not get to ever again.

“Slow,” you tell him over your shoulder, and it's equal parts a command and a plea. If this is the last time, then you want to feel it. Every thick inch of him, while he still belongs to you. “Just…go slow.”

He nods, shifting forward almost imperceptibly so he can watch your lashes flutter as you brace for the stretch.

"Don't need’ta tell me. I know how ya like it," he replies gruffly.

He does. For now, you won’t overthink it or let yourself get lost in the nostalgia of his cock nestled inside you. You’ll just enjoy it. Sex with Joel has always been mind-blowing, and here, in a dirty alleyway, pressed up against the exterior of a bar, you bet it’ll be life-changing.

It stings like it always does when he breaches your entrance, no matter how wet you are for him. Together, you hiss in a sharp breath, mutually adjusting to the overwhelming stretch that quickly ebbs into something addictive.

"Tight as all goddamn hell," he mutters to himself, rocking into you languidly. He takes his time, relishing your walls enveloping him, mesmerized by the way you suck him in until he's buried to the hilt. 

"Would'ja look at that," he continues in awe, tracing where his cock is forcing you to yield to him. "Greedy fuckin' pussy, ain't she? M'not goin' anywhere, don't'chu worry. Gonna take care of ya...make ya feel so fuckin' good..."

He's starting to babble. Not good. Not good at all. 

Broad hands grip your ass, pulling your cheeks apart so he can see how tightly you’re gripping him, and it's too much. His hips buck, startling a pained whine out of you as he rams into that spot. The one deep inside you he can only reach when he’s fucking you from behind. Your cunt clenches, fighting to keep him there, and he growls low in his throat, hungry and territorial like a wild animal.

"There it is," he nudges it again, purposefully this time. You barely manage to bite back a sob as you gush messily around him. "Christ, honey, y'sure ya still want it slow? 'Cus it sure don't sound like it."

He's patronizing you. He knows exactly what he's doing—that's his spot. He also knows it makes you loud as fuck. But he wouldn’t. There’s no way he’d go back on his word, not after he promised he’d be discreet.

"Joel. Don't," you warn him shakily, but you're already too far gone to be intimidating. 

He pulls out until just the tip is still inside you, huffing out a distinctly calculated breath.

"Don't what? Don't make ya cum nice and loud on my cock? 'Fraid I can't do that, darlin'."

That's all the warning you get before he slams in hard. Your jaw drops, and you're positive you couldn't have stopped the wail punched out of your chest even if you'd tried.

Wrong. You’re wrong again, and you should’ve known better. It’s not the first time he’s gone back on his word, remember? Joel’s shitty lack of communication is why you’re here in the first place. Sure, he agreed to be quiet, but he never said anything about you.

He establishes a brutal pace that has you scrabbling against the wall for purchase and slapping a hand over your mouth in a futile attempt to muffle the desperate cries being forced from your body.

Please, don’t be outside. Please, please, Jesse. Don’t still be outside. 

But your luck's officially run out. 

Heavy mahogany crashes into solid brick, echoing down the alleyway, and a raucous group of people spills out onto the street, barely 30 feet from where your ass and tits are out for anyone to see. Then, the deep baritone of Jesse's voice cuts through the rest, and your blood immediately turns to ice. 

You're fucked. You're about to get caught and expose your secret to the entire town, except...Joel isn't stopping. Fuck, he's—

Yanking your entire body up and ripping your hand away from your mouth, rutting into you like he was just waiting for an audience. He snakes a hand up your stomach to palm at your chest, squeezing firmly to anchor himself as he fucks up into you with all the force he can muster.

And it turns you on so much, you finally stop caring. Fuck it. Fuck this town. Fuck everyone in that bar who made you feel like a goddamn pariah for months, crucifying you for the unforgivable sin of getting your heart broken. 

You hope his date's standing out there, too, so she can hear everything she'll never get to have. So they can all see that Joel Miller isn't the crushed, cruelly dumped old man they all thought he was.

Your moans ring out, loud and high-pitched, all but drowning out the messy slap of his hips into the drenched curve of your ass.

"That's it, darlin', let it all out," he chuckles darkly against the shell of your ear. Your next moan tapers into a drawn-out keen that he mimics, his thrusts getting shallow and sloppy. "S'for me, right? Let 'em know you're makin' all those pretty noises just for me."

Christ, you're close. And he's as close as you are, you can feel it. You turn your head, nodding jerkily into his shoulder.

"S'for you, Joel—mmph, just for you. Only for you," your words slur as he continues to bounce you on his cock. 

"Tell 'em you're mine, darlin’. Not just here," he pants raggedly, desperation coating his words. "Everywhere. You're mine everywhere."

The voices are getting closer, about to pass the mouth of the alley, and the ice in your veins quickly thaws, turning to molten lava. They'll definitely be able to able to hear you, but can they see you? For the umpteenth time tonight, you decide you really don't give a shit. You've got none left. You and Joel, that's all that matters now. 

His hand drops between your legs, thick fingers swirling tight, slick circles into your clit while he waits for you to confirm what he already knows. You've said it again and again—weeks ago, wrapped up in his arms, and earlier tonight, after the worst argument you've had since the breakup. 

And you’ll tell him again in this alley as you cum blindingly hard around his cock. Third time's the charm.

"Y-yours, Joel. I'm always yours."

His hips completely lose their rhythm, and he barely has time to breathe out his contentment before the violent convulsing of your cunt and contrasting serenity of your words send him hurtling over the edge.

"That's my girl."

He crashes his lips into yours, swallowing every noise you make as the group finally comes into view. Their drunken chattering and roughhousing aren't enough to draw your attention away from each other, but the depraved sounds of Joel continuing to fuck you through your release captures theirs almost immediately.

A few of them stop to squint into the darkness, trying their best to pinpoint what everyone already knows is happening further down the alley. As they inch closer, they can just barely make out two connected figures, and the wind carrying muffled gasps and labored breathing with it into the street all but confirms it.

"Y'all seein' this?" they whisper amongst themselves, but in the inebriated state they're in, they might as well be yelling.

And that's what pulls you and Joel back to reality. Shit. Shit. So, this is it, then. You tense in Joel's arms, waiting to get called out as the slutty girl who seduced her ex away from his date. Hell, they're not even wrong. You can feel his cum dribbling out of you, and can't help but think maybe you'd deserve it.

From where you're standing, you recognize each and every one of their faces under the string lights, and you know damn well that none of them can keep their mouths shut. Except...wait a second. They're still glancing back and forth between you and Joel in the shadows and each other. 

Oh. The fucking shadows. None of them can see shit. They have no clue who the hell they're looking at. Joel must've caught on around the same time you did, because now he's backing up, putting more distance between you and the looming crowd. Before they can get any closer, one of the younger guys cuts in front to block their path.

“C’mon, it's probably a couple’a teenagers. Just let ‘em be," he drawls, glancing back at you. Your eyes lock, and you're suddenly so grateful, you could cry. It's Jesse. He shoots you a wink before turning back to the group, shaking his head in mock admonishment. "Don't act like y'all weren't doin' the same damn thing at their age."

By some miracle, it fucking works. They all laugh in agreement, appeased by Jesse's quick thinking. One by one, they follow each other out of the alley and back onto the road to continue their original path home. Jesse lingers. 

"Glad y'all figured things out," he calls out over his shoulder, giving you privacy to tug your shirt back up. He clears his throat awkwardly before continuing, "Look, I, uh...distracted as many people as I could from comin' over here, but if y'all were gonna be that loud, maybe you should'a figured things out at home."

Jesse shakes his head again, chuckling to himself as he shoves his hands into his pockets.

"Anyway, y'all have a good night, now. Get home safe."

As he jogs away to catch up with the rest of the group, you start to laugh, too. You can’t help it. It feels cathartic, relieving some of the tension of this overly eventful night.

Joel’s body begins to shake behind you, his chest rumbling with what you realize is deep-bellied laughter. It gradually increases in volume as it melds seamlessly with yours; transitory, white clouds of condensation that intertwine, then dissipate.

You feel him slip out as he starts to soften, and then he turns you to face him, carefully crowding you into the wall. He kisses you again, this time slow and deliberate like you asked him to earlier. His tongue meets yours, gasps exchanged and treasured like you have all the time in the world. 

When he parts from you, it feels reluctant, but he stays close, whispering his next words against your lips.

“M’gonna get ya cleaned up, alright?” he mumbles, dropping his arm from around your waist to run his fingers up the cum leaking down your thighs. You shiver as they continue up, slipping his release back inside you. “Don’t…,” he continues, squeezing his eyes shut as his forehead drops to yours, “…just—don’t go anywhere. Please. I’ll be right back.”

Maybe he’s trying to protect himself from the response he anticipates you’ll give him, but that seems silly after everything you’ve been through tonight. You cup his cheek and thumb the coarse, trimmed hairs of his beard, willing him to open his eyes. He does, hesitantly, one then the other, and you offer him a soft smile.

“I’m not going anywhere, Joel.”

An intoxicating breath fans across your face, and the taut muscles in his neck and shoulders loosen. His lips match the soft quirk of your own and, then, brush fleetingly against your cheekbone as he backs away and disappears through a metal side door you didn't notice before. The moment it clicks shut, you slump against the wall. 

Christ. Your mind is simultaneously blank and racing a mile a minute. Taking a deep breath, you let your head thunk into solid, grounding brick while you wait for even a single coherent thought to take root. What now? What happens next? 

There's no coming back from tonight. You both made choices you'll have to answer for, but, for some reason, that doesn't seem so scary anymore. The clock is ticking, but there's time. Plenty of it.

You're still lost in your reverie when Joel gets back with a thick wad of damp paper towels. You snort at the idea of him suddenly appearing in Seth's kitchen and having to explain himself, but maybe the racket you kicked up right outside his door was explanation enough.

"Seth didn't give you any shit for stealing his stuff?" you ask as Joel drops to his knees and coaxes one of your legs over his shoulder.

The cold air has already started to leach the warmth from the paper towels, and they feel cool as he slides them along your soiled skin. He huffs out a laugh.

"Nah, the kitchen was empty. Think they're startin' to close up for the night." 

When he finishes your first thigh, he surprises you by leaning in to press a soft kiss against your freshly cleaned skin. He nips at you teasingly before starting on the next one.

You hum in response, threading your fingers through his hair and watching fondly as he pays careful attention to his task. He continues to wipe away his drying release, trailing his lips down your thigh as he goes, until he finishes at your knee.

He gazes up at you with a charmingly crooked grin, and that’s when it finally slips out. The single coherent thought you’ve been waiting for.

“I love you, Joel,” you murmur, brushing your fingertips across his cheek. 

His smile falters. Then, it drops completely and your heart shatters. You don’t understand. But that—no. No, it doesn’t make any fucking sense. After everything that’s happened, how could you have been wrong again?

Joel sighs, grimacing as he slowly gets back up. He braces himself on one knee, clearly aching more than he's letting on, but when you reach down to offer him a hand, he refuses your help.

“S’fine, I got it. Just…,” he gestures to your jeans, still hanging loosely around your knees. You pull them up, fighting not to feel humiliated as he rises to his full height. 

You search his eyes for…something. Anything. Any indication of what he’s feeling right now, but they’re blank. Cold and distant, just like they were the night he left you. 

No. He doesn’t get to do this to you again. Not after everything you’ve been through. Not without an explanation. Not if he doesn’t want to lose you forever.

“Tell me why you broke up with me."

For a long time, you genuinely believed you could live without knowing the truth, but somewhere along the line, it began to eat away at you. Now, you want the real reason. He owes you that, at the very least.

You wait while he either works himself up to it or tries to figure out what bullshit to tell you this time. Once his hands settle on his hips, you know with absolute certainty it's the latter.

“Darlin’…,” he starts wearily, but you shoot him a look that stops him in his tracks. He doesn't get to call you that right now, and he knows it. Pausing, he nods grimly before beginning again. "We already talked about this. I’m no good for ya. It was only a matter of time before ya woke up one day and realized it for yourself.”

There it is. That same bullshit reason. You scoff bitterly, not surprised in the slightest.

“What the fuck does that even mean, Joel? We were together for years. If that was gonna happen, don’t you think it would’ve already?" you counter angrily. 

You're trying not to get emotional. This can't be a repeat of what happened last time, but it's dragging up too many painful memories. It's always the same fight. You can't do this anymore.

"You know what? Fuck you," you seethe as your self-control slips completely. "Fuck you for making that decision for me. You had no right."

At your words, his face crumples and he has the nerve to look ashamed. Maybe even a little hurt. His pained expression makes your heart ache, yet a nastier part of you believes it's only fair that he feels this way, too. He sighs, his eyes dropping wistfully to his feet.

“I did what I thought was best," he mumbles quietly as if he doesn't want to be heard. It's hard for him to say this out loud, and you realize it's because he's finally telling you the truth. "I just…I thought you’d be happier with someone else, someone who could give ya a family. Kids. I gave you up so you could have the life ya always wanted."

You eye him incredulously. The life you always wanted? Sure, you and Joel had toyed with the idea of having a family once upon a time, but that was never a dealbreaker. He should've known that. He should've brought it up before deciding to destroy your life together over an idealized fantasy.

“Oh, here we go. Joel, the fucking savior. Mr. Fix-It, swooping in to save everyone and solve every problem," you hurl back venomously. But it was a cruel thing to say, and you immediately hate yourself for it.

Rationally, you know his intentions were kind. He probably even thought he was being selfless. But he hurt you, and, through your tunnel vision, that's all you can see. You push yourself off the wall, stalking closer to where he stands, still refusing to look at you.

"So what, you thought you’d dump me and I’d immediately shack up with some other asshole? Is that really what you think of me?”

His eyes shoot up to yours and his fingers begin to tap restlessly at his sides. Now, you've pissed him off. 

“Don't go puttin’ words in my mouth. That ain’t true and you fuckin’ know it," he all but growls, his body shaking with a turbulent combination of frustration and adrenaline.

You're starting to feel it, too. This conversation is overwhelming both of you, but he still hasn't told you everything. There's a piece missing, keeping all of his disjointed reasonings from adding up. He's holding back and it's time for him to stop.

“Then what is, Joel?" you plead with him to give you a definitive answer. One that finally explains why you had to lose everything. Ellie, your home. The love of your life. "What’s the truth?"

Then, everything he's kept bottled up inside and allowed to poison his happiness claws its way out as a single, unwavering statement. 

“I’m too fuckin’ old for you!”

The silence that follows his admission is deafening. You watch in shock as he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. He's never yelled like that before or looked so defeated. By something as innocuous as his age. 

It isn't something you'd ever considered, not before your relationship and never once during. But he did. His bottom lip starts to tremble as he turns and takes a few steps away from you.

“Every day, I’d watch ya…offerin’ to take more shifts, spendin’ time at the school with Ellie and the kids," he says softly, shaking his head as he works through his next words. "And every day, I’d feel it. My body givin’ out on me, more and more. My blood pressure’s up, my goddamn knees are creakin’. Couldn’t even fuckin’ stand up on my own just now." 

When he turns back to you, his eyes are wet with unshed tears. He feels too far, but you know you can't go to him, yet. He's not finished.

"You can do better than that. You deserve better than that," his voice cracks and your whole world blurs into a wash of colors. “You’re gonna outlive me by a mile. I’m an old man, darlin’. It wasn’t fair for me to keep ya.”

For a while, you just watch each other. Tears overflow and continuously spill down his cheeks and yours, but neither of you moves to wipe them away. 

None of this is fair. You're both miserable and heartbroken, perpetually yearning for a love you've told yourselves you can't have. Months ago, Joel made a choice for both of you. You won't make the same mistake he did.

"I didn't want fair, Joel. I wanted you. A life with you...," your face screws up as you fight back a sob, "...the rest of my life with you, however long that is."

Joel takes a tentative step forward, carefully reaching out to touch you, but stops himself before he can get too close. He looks afraid...of you. Scared of the consequences of allowing you back into his heart. 

A sob escapes your chest, then, and you wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly bitterly cold and wanting nothing more than for Joel to hold you. To tell you for the first time since the breakup that he loves you and, regardless of time, won't ever stop.

So, you cross the alleyway and cup his wet cheeks in your hands, wiping away his sadness and, hopefully, his fears. He melts into the poignant familiarity of your touch and it makes you brave. This time, you'll be brave enough for both of you.

"Don't I deserve that?" you whisper, close enough to share his next breath. He watches your lips, hanging onto your every word. "Don't you?" 

His eyes meet yours, and it finally happens. The moment Joel gives in and decides to let himself be happy. He nods slowly in your grasp, reaching up to cradle your hand on his cheek. 

"Dunno what I deserve, darlin'. Not after the things I've done and the hurt I put ya through. But if I'm...if this is really what ya want...," he hesitates, his voice thick with tears and, yet, still that full-bodied, twang that sounds like home. "I'm yours. 'Til my last breath, I'm yours."

He kisses you before either of you can start crying again, and it's all there. The love he kept under lock and key to protect you, released from the prison of his own making.

His kiss feels different again. There's no hunger or rush, and the possessiveness—the need to devour everything you have to give so there's nothing left for anyone else—is gone. He's sure, now, that there's no one else you'd rather give yourself to.

His arms circle your waist and he pulls you closer, crushing you into time-worn chambray and sullied denim as you continue to explore each other like a pair of horny teenagers. Two lovers learning to give and take for the first time. Time passes slowly in this space you've carved out for yourselves, even as the moon continues to rise in the night sky and floods the corridor with light. 

Then, noisily and as if right on cue, the last-call crowd stumbles from the bar and immediately catches what the previous group missed. You and Joel separate, dazed but unhurried, to find that it's them. 

It has to be fucking kismet that, of everyone in Jackson, the first to witness your reconciliation would be the biggest blabbermouths in the entire town. The same women who talked shit about you every day for months and constantly vied for Joel's attention, standing there with wide eyes and slack jaws.

Their varied expressions almost make you want to laugh, and you can't help but snort unattractively into Joel's shoulder. Half of them are glaring at you, and the rest look either devastated or genuinely surprised. Guess you were better at hiding your arrangement than you thought, not that it matters anymore. It's a relationship again, and everyone's about to know all about it. Joel clears his throat, drawing their attention back to him.

"Evenin', ladies. S'there somethin' we can help ya with?" he drawls, breaking out the Southern charm that endeared every single one of them to him in the first place.

They all shake their heads, looking a little too pleased with themselves once the initial shock wears off and they realize you've just given them the gossip of the century. After a few fake, high-pitched pleasantries, they slink away as quickly as they came, already chatting to themselves about some shit you'll definitely hear tomorrow at breakfast. You watch them go, feeling oddly liberated.

"Guess the cat's outta the bag, huh?" You wrap your arms loosely around his neck, still chuckling softly to yourself. Joel huffs out a laugh, too, bending down to kiss the crown of your head before nodding in agreement.

"'Fraid so," he muses, amusement and a hint of something lighter glinting in his eyes. 

You haven't seen him this relaxed in a long time. As he holds you in his arms, he leans a fraction of his weight on you to ease the night's strain on his back and knees, and it makes you feel needed. Relied on. That's new, Joel depending on you like this. Things are going to be different this time around, you can tell. They already are. 

You hum, ruminating on what awaits you after your first night back in your own bed, in your own home. What everyone will think and say—to your face and behind your back—when they find out you're back together. Though, the only opinions you give a shit about are Ellie, Tommy, and Maria's, anyway.

So, yeah, you're a lot of things right now: exhausted, yet relieved and so full of hope. But you're not afraid, the cat and the bag be damned.

"I'm not," you tell him honestly as you pull away. You let your hands trail from his shoulders, down his arms, until his hands are in yours. 

Tugging gently, you walk him backward out of the alley, away from the bar and plummeting winter chill, and any lingering, prying eyes. Even the moon and stars have no stake in what comes next. This moment, right here and now, belongs to you and Joel, alone.

"Take me home, Joel."

The light in his eyes burns brighter, amusement giving way to adoration and contentment. He's been waiting for this, to be given the privilege of keeping you safe and taking care of you the way he needs to—it's how he shows love. 

He slots his fingers between yours and leads you down the empty streets of Jackson. 

"Darlin', nothin' would make me happier."

thanks for reading!

[bekolxeram]

The sheer number of times Eddie is mentioned when Buck comes out to Maddie has been pointed out time and time again. Some take it as a sign that Buck is subconsciously in love with Eddie, some see it as foreshadowing for these two to be romantically involved in the future, while others simply think it's an Easter egg left in by writers as a nod to shippers.

The way I see it, there is a reason why Eddie keeps being brought up in this scene, but it's not what you think.

If you've rewatched this scene as much as I have, you'd remember that Buck actually isn't coming out to Maddie on purpose in this scene. He originally goes there to talk and ask for her advice, because he feels bad about the hot chicks incident when Eddie walked in on him and Tommy at the restaurant.

In fact, he fully intends to keep the identity of his date hidden. He can't even risk Chimney getting wind of it, in case he or Eddie puts two and two together and figures the whole thing out.

Maddie is always there to talk things out with her brother, but she would never turn down a chance to gossip.

He completely dodges Maddie's question and quickly changes the subject. He needs to tell Maddie the full story of his disastrous date, but he can only refer to Tommy as his date, or "this person". The more he does this, the higher the risk of slipping up, Maddie would likely ask more questions about this mysterious person as well, so Buck frames the whole narrative around the only person he can safely refer to: Eddie (and Marisol, but she isn't important in this story).

Maddie picks up on Buck's secrecy, now she really wants to know who this person is and why Buck refuses to reveal their identity. Buck again immediately shuts it down, and brings the topic back to Eddie.

While I'm sure Buck feels bad for lying to his best friend, especially when there's no reason to expect Eddie reacting with anything less than acceptance, when Buck starts actually talking about his behavior and what upsets him the most, it isn't really about Eddie. He's ashamed of himself for lying right in front of Tommy. In fact, he's so upset over Tommy cutting the date short and leaving him on the curb that he accidentally uses a gendered pronoun.

Maddie "I am 9-1-1" Han makes a career out of being a good and thorough listener, so of course she notices the pronoun. From this point on, the subject of the conversation shifts from Eddie to Buck's newly discovered sexuality, and later, Tommy.

Buck knows he goes to Maddie because he feels bad, but he still hasn't fully processed the fact that he's into men too and what it means to him. He's still calling himself an ally, a supporter of queer people, but he's confused as to why it doesn't seem to apply when it comes to himself. Maddie correctly points out that he's no longer just an ally, and the recency of his discovery might have been the cause of his strange and panicked behavior during the date.

This is the prime example of acting turning the same line into different meanings. The first "wow" seems to me like Maddie is finally connecting the dots. She practically raised her brother, it's not unlikely that she has previously witnessed Buck having boy problems. I feel like it's a "wow, everything makes so much sense now" wow. It looks like Buck takes a little offence at it and asks Maddie to clarify what she means by "wow". Maddie tells him it's more like a "wow, this is a nice surprise" wow.

Oh, boy is completely clueless. Maddie is just trying her best to keep up with Buck's increasingly oblivious statements.

Buck suddenly brings up Tommy, probably because he hasn't been able to stop thinking about him since the kiss. Apparently, he's so attracted to Tommy both physically and as a person, it makes him realize his interest in men, something no other has achieved thus far. Maddie recognizes the name her brother has been harping on for the past few weeks.

Poor Maddie must be so confused. First her brother and husband-to-be keep talking about how cool this pilot who saved everyone is, then he becomes Eddie's friend and Buck gets all jealous about it. Most recently, Maddie is horrified by Buck's action on the basketball court, because he only has a history of hurting himself to get someone's attention, not the target of his attention seeking. And now Buck has gone on a date with Tommy? So Maddie decides, one step at a time, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Buck initially tells Maddie about lying to his best friend and how he feels like a fraud, so she tackles (no pun intended) this part first.

If you come into this scene with preconceived notions, the word "feelings" being in proximity to the name Eddie may seem like to you that Maddie is pointing to "Buck's misplaced romantic feelings towards Eddie". But if you put these lines into context, Buck simply isn't sure of how he feels about his bisexuality in general. In fact, the only thing he's certain of in this entire conversation is his attraction to Tommy. Maddie also isn't bringing up Eddie out of the blue because she thinks her brother is secretly in love with his best friend. Again, Buck originally does want advice about lying to Eddie, albeit partly using his name to avoid revealing his date's identity, so Maddie gives it to him now, no need to read too much in between the lines, especially after the "wow" exchange.

Now that the Eddie stuff is out of the way, Maddie can comfortably gossip about Buck's new hot pilot crush. And Buck looks absolutely smitten at the mere mention of Tommy.

Eddie is undoubtedly a very important person in Buck's life, and it must be killing Buck inside for lying about something so important to his best friend. Though in this scene, Buck seems to be mostly using Eddie's name to circumvent the necessity of mentioning Tommy's name and to deflect any probing question about his identity. Once he accidently lets it slip that he was on a date with a guy, he pretty much drops the whole Eddie act entirely.

[bigdumbbambieyes]

they get drunk and Steve’s cupping Billy’s face in his hands and kissing him square on the mouth and mumbling disgustingly sweet things that Billy scrunches his nose about but he’s melting all the same

Steve tastes like that god awful tequila-beer-juice-wine concoction in the kitchen but Billy can’t bring himself to care, not when he’s got his pretty boy pressing him up against the wall in the basement, sneaking greedy kisses in the dark

ten minutes later they’re playing beer pong, kicking every other team’s ass, shouting over the loud music and laughing when Tommy falls as he chases after the ball, wiping their eyes because it shouldn’t be as funny as it is but they’re leaning on each other as their stomachs hurt from laughing too hard and long

stumbling out of the house hours later, down the street and towards Steve’s because the party was in Loch Nora and it’s only a couple blocks

it takes them over an hour to walk it because they stop a lot to look up at the stars and Billy pulls his boy down to wrestle in the grass, the two of them rolling around until they aren’t, Steve laying on his chest and they’re mumbling drunken words about the party — gossiping and remembering and bitching

they don’t even make it inside the house

it’s warm out and they collapse into the same plastic recliner by the pool, Billy half on top of Steve, feeling his pretty boy’s arms around him in a comforting hold as he presses his face to Steve’s neck and inhaling the scent of him there, so obsessed with it that he wishes he could bottle it

Steve softly, lazily, tells him to stop smelling him and Billy gives one last obnoxious sniff that has his boy giggling before he truly stops, resting his cheek against Steve’s shoulder

he can feel Steve’s hand in his hair, rubbing his scalp, and he falls asleep just like that

they wake up hours later, when the sun is starting to rise, and they both feel terribly hungover already, but they’re still half asleep so they go inside to the cool of the AC and strip and collapse on Steve’s bed to sleep until Mrs. Harrington is telling them to get up it’s one o’clock go do something fun, but first change your sheets it reeks like your father’s liquor cabinet in here

which is ridiculous because they’re eighteen, they don’t need to have fun, but Steve mumbles ‘okay mom’ as she leaves and Billy pretends to sleep just so he doesn’t have to get up, but then Steve’s kissing his bare shoulder and telling him to wake up and it’s so sweet that Billy turns to him and they share a sleepy smile and Billy kisses him, kisses over to his cheek and down his neck where he takes another loud sniff and Steve’s laughing and telling him to stop but he doesn’t really mean it

[mountttmase]

Change Of Heart

The Middle - Part Four

Note - coming at you a day early, so I hope that’s okay 😂 this chapter is a ride and I pray you won’t be too hard on our girly. She’s been through a lot and has a lot of emotions and also people aren’t angles 100% of the time (unless your name is Mason) so it’s normal for someone to have a strop. Sorry I really feel like I’m explaining myself here but I’m just scared you’ll hate her. This chapter also involves a song and I’ve added a thing so you can listen along to the version I was thinking about 🥰 LOVE YOU GUYS FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED AS ALWAYS 🩷😘

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 6.6K

Warnings - series contains angst & fluff

They say you always hurt the ones you love, and even though you never meant to hurt Mason, there always seemed to be moments over the years when you’d take your moods out on him.

You knew he was upset, but he always took it in his stride and let you have your strop before accepting your apology straight away no matter how much you didn’t deserve it. Not wanting to be moody with each other now you didn’t see each other as much but after you’d calmed down it didn’t make you feel any less guilty.

Moving to Manchester was everything you thought it would be and more.

Now you’d been promoted you could afford your own house up here and you made sure it had enough bedrooms so there was a spare for when Mason or your family wanted to visit and you felt incredible that you could provide for yourself and Gee all on your own.

Mason helped you move and unpack but he couldn’t stay more than one night as he had to go back to London and back to training but you were grateful for his help nonetheless and happy that he was finally onboard with such a big change.

It was the perfect fresh start, and you knew no one here so you made sure you made a few connections by joining a mummy and baby group in hopes of making some mum friends and on the first day you met Ell. It was her first day with baby Tommy and by the end of the hour you were becoming fast friends. Ell having lived in the area her whole life and she promised to take you under her wing and be there for you. Even skipping the class sometimes so you could take the babies out for lunch and have a gossip.

You saw and spoke to Mason as much as you could but you knew things had changed. FaceTime wasn’t the same as seeing him in person but the season was soon ending and you’d even managed to make it back down for his last game of the season. Watching on proudly as he picked up his second player of the season award and you knew it had meant a lot to him for you to be there.

It was the least you could do, Mason always sacrificing himself for you and you knew you weren’t always the best to him. Blaming your bad moods on being tired due to work and the stress of raising a child on your own in a place where you hardly knew anyone but Mason always took you as you came just like he had your whole life.

You loved your life up in Manchester though. Quiet nights spent with just you and Gee cuddled on the sofa as you told her how long you’d waited for her to come and everything you wanted to do together. Watching her grow and learn new things everyday as you learnt more about yourself in the process and when she wasn’t in your arms you didn’t feel whole.

You had been living in your house for around three months when Mason first came to stay for a few nights. It was a bit last minute and you had made plans to go out with your new work colleagues to get to know them a bit better but Mason assured you it was fine and that he would stay with Gee that night rather than her usual babysitter.

Gee was around ten months old now and Mason couldn’t believe how much she’d changed since he last saw her. His eyes filling up as he held her to his chest and you melted at the way she clung to him. Even though they didn’t get to see each other too often it was so lovely to see how strong their bond was. Mason eventually pulling you into his arms so you could all cuddle together by the front door and you didn’t miss the way your shoulders relaxed at his touch. Trying your hardest to not bury your face into his shoulder as you’d missed him so much but you pulled back and smiled at him sweetly.

‘Go sit, I’ll grab you a drink’ you told him and him and with a quick kiss to your cheek he made his way into the living room whilst you headed just down the hall to the kitchen to flick the kettle on.

You could hear Mason from the kitchen, letting Gee babble away at him as he tried to respond back to her with the noises she’d just made and as the kettle boiled, you popped your head around the corner so you could watch them. Masons back to you so he had no idea you were listening in but he was sat with Gee practically on his chest and you smiled softly at them as they made silly faces at each other.

You loved getting to see them bond, knowing how much Gee loved Mason already even though you didn’t get to see him as much, but soon enough her incoherent mumbles turned into actual words.

‘Dada’

‘Oh… oh no I’m not your dada baby’ he whispered, his voice sounding sad and your heart broke a tiny bit. Mason was more of a dad to Gee than anyone and the feeling of her not having that vital person in her life for her early years upset you more than you thought it would, but it was no match for the words that were about to come out of Mason's mouth. ‘I wish I was though, Gee. I’d do anything for you, you know that right?’ He whispered. ‘And I love your mummy so so much. More than I could ever tell you… or her. Trust me, I tried once and it did not go well’ he laughed.

You felt overwhelmed, stood in shock as you watched him confess his feelings for you to your baby in a soft voice so you didn’t hear but he clearly had no idea you could hear every word as he carried on talking. ‘It hurts you know? Knowing your person doesn’t quite see you as theirs but it’s okay. I’ve learnt to let her go and let her be happy, even if it’s not because of me. She’ll find her person one day and maybe I can learn to love someone like I love her. Like give someone else what I’ve always wanted to give her. I think I’d make a pretty good boyfriend if I let myself be one. And I think I’d make a good dad too, like I’m not that bad am I?’ He asked her and the excited yelp that left her little mouth made you smile even though your heart was breaking.

‘Thanks Gee, you always know what to say’ he laughed. ‘Who knows, maybe I can give you some cousins one day?’

He still loves me. After all this time he still loves me.

You’d always had a feeling Mason still liked you more than he should, but hearing him say it again to your little girl hurt. The fact that he was keeping it under wraps still gave you mixed feelings but clearly he didn’t want you to know as he was dealing with it in his own way so you figured you’d let him carry on.

You loved Mason, you just weren’t in love with him. If there was a way you could have flicked a switch to turn those feelings on then you’d do it in a heartbeat but all you knew right now was that you had to pretend like you hadn’t heard anything for the sake of your friendship. Knowing he’d leave if he knew you knew and you liked things exactly as they were.

You shook it off and made him his coffee just how he liked it. Carrying it into him quietly and when he smiled up at you in thanks you knew he didn’t know you’d overheard. Carry on talking to you without a care in the world as he played with Gee. You felt awkward though, no knowing what to say to him as a feeling of guilt settled into your tummy.

‘I need to go get ready’ you told him eventually. Making your way upstairs so you could start doing your hair and applying your makeup away from his big brown eyes and silly dimples but you were still thinking about what he’d said to Gee. The way he was still in love with you but just carried on and hid it like he was doing made you feel so confused

You were halfway through doing your makeup when you heard him walking up the stairs, his voice low as he told Gee he’d find you for her and after a quick knock at your door you let him know it was safe to come in.

‘See Gee, I told you she was here’ he cooed as he rounded the corner into your room and you sent her a smile as she looked your way. ‘Sorry, she didn’t believe me when I told her you were up here’ he laughed and you could see Gee sending you a huge smile back now.

‘That’s okay’

‘Are you alright?’ He asked as he took a seat on the edge of your bed but you just nodded your head. Still unsure as to what you should say to him. ‘You sure? You seem quiet’

‘I’m fine, just nervous. You know what I’m like with big groups of people’ you half lied but you could see him nodding away behind you in the mirror.

‘You’ll be fine, I promise’ he smiled before his eyes were flickering around your room. ‘Are you gonna wear that dress? He quizzed, nodding over to the one you’d hung up on the outside of your wardrobe and you nodded in response. ‘That's always been my favourite on you’ he beamed and you felt your tummy drop at his comment.

He let you get ready a little while after. Taking Gee downstairs so he could pop on the dancing fruit video she seemed to love so much to keep her entertained but when you came back down ready to leave you could see the disappointment and confusion all over his face that you’d chosen something different to wear.

Mason still showered you with compliments and helped you put on your necklace. His face beaming at the fact you still wore his gift after all these years but little did he know you felt lost without it.

Ever since he’d given it to you that fateful night you very rarely took it off as you felt like he was always with you when you had it on and even though things may have taken a weird little turn tonight there was no way you were leaving the house without it.

After a long goodbye with Gee you managed to make it out the door. Hopping in a taxi to take you to a restaurant nearby and as soon as you were inside your worries disappeared. You loved your new team and there were only around six of you so you were able to chat with all of them with no one feeling left out and really connect in a way you can’t do everyday in the office.

You checked your phone periodically but nothing had come through from Mason so you just figured the pair of them were having a lovely time and focused on getting to know your new colleagues.

You’d just finished up dessert when you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket. Quickly reaching for it to see Mason's face filling up the screen so you excused yourself just off to the side so you could answer.

‘Mase, everything alright?’ You asked, thinking he was just updating you quickly but the beat of silence on his end made your tummy drop.

‘Hey, yeah no listen. It’s Gee. She’s been all grizzly since you left and I thought it was just her being moody but she’s had a temperature all night and-‘

‘She what? A temperature? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?’ you asked. Your tone sounding panicked as your tummy dropped and the thought of Gee being unwell and needing you while you were out.

‘Well I didn’t wanna ruin your night out and I thought she’d be fine but she’s getting really upset and-‘

‘I’m coming back’ you told him. Hanging up the phone so he didn’t have a chance to answer before grabbing your things and making a swift exit. You didn’t want to cause a fuss so you quietly let your assistant know and slipped away before anyone could say anything before making your way back home ready to tear Mason a new one.

When you first walked in, the sight you were met with would have usually warmed your heart. Gee laid on Mason's chest with her head smooshed into his neck as he rubbed her back but you could see her eyes were red from crying and her little nose looked flushed.

Mason on the other hand looked frozen in fear. Looking up at you like he’s was scared you were about to rip his head off but you paid him no mind. Slipping your jacket off before storming over so you could gently lift Gee from him. Thankfully Mason didn’t put up a fight but your plan to just completely ignore him and go upstairs was thwarted when he began to speak as you turned to leave.

‘I gave her some calpol about half an hour ago, it’s taken her temperature down a bit but she might-‘

‘I don’t need you to tell me how to look after my baby’ you snapped. Turning to face him and if you weren’t so furious and worried you might have felt bad for how you’d spoken to him. ‘I told you to call me if someone was wrong so why didn’t you?’

‘Cause I-‘

‘No Mason! There’s no excuse’ you cried but your loud voice had stirred Gee awake and her bleary eyes were right on Mason.

‘Come on Gee, let’s go to bed. We can cuddle for a little bit, okay?’ You whispered, walking straight towards the door but her tiny hands Were grabbing straight for the boy you furious with.

‘Dada’

‘No, Uncle Masons going to his room’ you told her. Loud enough so Mason could hear and as soon as he was out of Gee’s sight she began to cry hysterically. ‘Come on Gee, it’s okay. Mummy’s here now’ you told her trying to do anything you could to soothe her but nothing was working.

Guilt flooded you for the second time that day but now it was for a different reason. You were still feeling a little awkward about earlier and knew you shouldn’t have snapped like you did as he was just trying his best, but the idea of Gee being sick scared you and Mason was the only one around to take it out on.

You figured she was crying just because she felt so sick but when Mason appeared in your doorway around ten minutes later, the two of you looked up and over to him and only then she began to calm down as she reached for him. It was at that moment you realised she was upset because she thought Mason had left her.

He didn’t say a word, just came and sat in front of you so he could hold Gee’s hand and her sobs disappeared almost immediately. His big brown eyes flashing to yours but they were back on Gee almost instantly as a look of worry washed over him.

‘Lay down, I think it’s best you stay here. She won’t stop crying otherwise’ you told him quietly but he seemed hesitant.

‘Oh I-‘

‘Just do it… please’ you told him softly. ‘I need to get ready for bed and I’ll be back’ you gulped and with that you grabbed your things and went to the bathroom. Not taking too long to get changed and take your makeup off before you were rushing back to them. Gee now wide awake and looking up at Mason as he tried his best to make her smile but you noticed he toned it down as soon as you were back. Laying her on the bed in the middle of the pair of you so you could both look at her but you kept silent as you watched her giggle at Masons silly faces.

‘Why does she keep touching your lips?’ You asked quietly after a while. Not missing the way her little chubby fingers were repeatedly reaching up for his mouth and you noticed his cheeks turn pink as he tried not to smile.

‘I think she wants me to sing her our song’

‘Your song?’

‘Yeah, whenever I put her down for naps or to sleep I always sing to her. I’ve been singing to her a lot tonight to try and cheer her up’ He giggled nervously and you felt your heart melt for him just that little bit more.

‘You never sing for me’

‘That’s cause you said my voice sound like nails in a blender’ he joked, his eyes flashing up to yours but he clearly didn’t know where he stood still so he was quick to look away.

‘Well even so, Gee obviously likes it. You should sing to her now. It might help her sleep’

‘I don’t know…’

‘Come on, she’s practically begging you’ you encouraged and you knew you were breaking him down.

‘Well I can’t do it with you watching me’ he laughed, embarrassment written all over his face so you did the only thing you could think of and rolled over to your other side so you were facing away from the pair of them and the sound of his little laugh before he cleared his throat made you smile.

‘I would take the stars out of the sky for you

Stop the rain from falling if you asked me to’

You knew the song immediately. One of your mum’s favourites that she would listen to at home but listening to Mason sing it so softly to your baby gave the lyrics a whole new meaning and you felt every hair on your body standing up as you listened on.

‘I'd do anything for you, your wish is my command

I could move a mountain when your hand is in my hand’

You could hear the smile in his voice, and hear the laugh coming from Gee as she listened to him. Your eyes filling up almost instantly as he sounded so sincere and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have a friend like Mason who gave his all for a child that wasn’t even his.

‘Words cannot express how much you mean to me

There must be some other way to make you see

If it takes my heart and soul, you know I'd pay the price

Everything that I possess I'd gladly sacrifice’

You knew he meant every word he was singing just by the tone of his voice and as the song took on a whole new meaning to you, you felt your eyes spillover as you heard your baby giggling.

‘Oh, you to me are everything

The sweetest song that I could sing

Oh, baby, oh, baby’

You couldn’t take it anymore. Turning round to look at him and his eyes flashed to yours immediately. The bridge of his nose a deep red still as he was clearly a little embarrassed you’d heard him sing but to you it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard.

‘I’m sorry Mase’ you whispered. ‘I didn’t mean to have a go earlier, I was just worried’ you told him. Eyes filling with tears again as you took in his guilty face but soon enough his own face looked just as miserable as you felt.

‘I know love, it’s okay’

‘No it’s not. I was awful to you when all you’ve ever done is look after us. You know I trust you with Gee 100% and I’m sorry if I made you feel at different’ you gulped. ‘I see it every day how much you love her and we really don’t deserve you’

‘Y/n, it’s fine. I should have told you earlier I just wanted you to have a good night and I thought I could do it’

‘You did though Mase. You did everything right, see?’ You smiled. Motioning down to Gee who was laying there as happy as Larry but you could tell from the yawns she was ready for sleep. ‘She just needed a little bit more time for the medicine to kick in but she’s alright’

‘I was just worried’ he told you. His bottom lip wobbling and it really hit you how much this whole evening had upset him.

‘I know you were’ you sighed. Picking up a now barely awake Gee so you could place her in her crib next to you before turning back to Mason with your arms open for him. ‘Come here’

He didn’t need to be told twice. Shuffling over and laying his head on your chest so you could hold him while stroking his hair and you felt him deflate in your arms.

‘I really am sorry, Mason’ you whispered in his ear. ‘I was just worried too but I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that’

‘I know you were. That’s why I didn’t want to call you, which I know is stupid’ he sighed. ‘Are we okay? I feel like you’ve been avoiding me all day’

You felt even worse now knowing he’d picked up on your mood but there was no way you were telling him how you’d overheard him earlier so you just nodded your head. Wracking your brain for some sort of excuse to tell him but you were coming up short.

‘We’re okay, Mase. I’m really sorry for how I’ve acted today I’ve just been a bit stressed lately but it’s not your fault’

‘Okay’ he whispered. Kissing just over your heart as that was the only place he could reach and you felt your heart flutter at his softness and the love you felt for your best friend. ‘Gimme five minutes and I’ll go back to my room’

‘Don’t go, I’m comfy’ you whispered. Hearing him chuckle as he held you tighter but soon enough he was getting heavy and you knew he’d fallen asleep.

You didn’t have big arguments, but when you fell out it was usually your fault. But Mason being Mason always forgave you even when you didn’t feel like you deserved it.

You did your best to forget about Mason's confession and as the months passed you managed to get back into your normal routine with him. You and Gee still cheering him on from the sidelines but this season was turning out to be even weirder than the last.

The season wasnt over yet but it had been really tough for Mason. Ever since the World Cup he’d been carrying an injury and a few weeks ago he’d finally had surgery to correct the issue. He hadn’t played in a really long time and since he had a week in between recovery sessions he’d made the choice to come up and see you both.

It was perfect timing really since Ell had taken you away for a few days to her husband Noah’s families house in the south of France and the five of you had had the best time. Sending Mason Cute snaps of the kids on the beach but all he did was warn you to keep them apart as Gee was too young for a boyfriend.

y/n

liked by masonmount, ell_197, lukeshaw23 and others

y/n our first little holiday 🥺🩷 wouldn’t be the same without our besties. Thank you for inviting us into your home and making us feel like family 🥰 forever grateful for your kindness

masonmount my girls ❤️ cant wait to see you all

y/n we’ve missed you so much masey!!!

ell_197 the best trip 😘 I’m planning the next one as we speak

y/n so thankful for you 🩷 we had the best time ever and I loved watching our babies have fun together 😩

masonmount she’s not allowed a boyfriend

ell_197 who? 🤣

masonmount both of them 😌

Mummy_y/n wish we were with you both 😍

y/n us too 🥺 but we’ll see you real soon

Mason being free meant he was able to pick you up from the airport and at 3am your heart stuttered as Gee ran as fast as her little legs could take her into Mason’s waiting arms before he squeezed her like he never wanted to let go. Only opening his arm when you came close so he could pull you in too and the feeling of home flooded you.

This was the first time Mason had met Ell and her family and they seemed just as enamoured by him as Gee was. Noah admitting he was a big fan and was trying his hardest to get him to come and play for Man United. Mason just smiled and laughed like he usually did when someone said the same but you could see there was something else behind it this time.

You were home soon enough though. Popping Gee in her room so she could sleep before making your way back to the living room. You still felt wide awake and Mason had offered to make you a tea and to maybe watch a film as he wasn’t tired either due to his nap earlier, so you got yourself settled and began absentmindedly scrolling through your phone.

There was a reason you never went on Facebook and right now was a perfect reminder as to why.

Facebook was full of updates from people you hadn’t spoken to in years or elderly family members posting badly taken selfies and stupid opinions but after an email popped up saying a girl you hadn’t heard of in years had posted a picture your curiosity got the better of you and you clicked on the link.

It was from there you went on a downward spiral. Mindlessly scrolling through your feed as you became reacquainted with people you hadn’t thought of in years. Wondering why half of these people even still used this god forsaken app until you came to a past that made you stop in your tracks.

‘I don’t think I’ve done the popcorn right’ Mason suddenly bellowed through the halls and as his voice got closer you sat yourself up on your sofa and tried to look like you hadn’t just had the biggest shock of your life.

‘I mean how difficult is it to microwave a bag?’ He carried on. ‘I didn’t think it would be that hard but I shook it and there’s still loads of kernels in there’ he complained. Finally flopping down next to you and you knew once he cast his eyes in your direction it was over for you. ‘Hey, y/n what’s wrong?’

How were you even supposed to explain your way out of this one? Mason was your best friend and knew you inside out so there was no lying to him but you weren’t sure you could get the words out to tell him exactly.

‘It’s Jack’ you sighed. His name leaving a sour taste on your tongue and you knew as soon as Mason stiffened besides you were in for a barrage of questions.

‘Jack? What? has he tried to talk to you or something?’

‘No no, I was just on Facebook and I must have forgotten to block him on there since I never use it and a post from him came up’

‘Oh okay, I get it must be tough to see his face again’

‘It’s not just that’ you sighed. Passing him your phone with a shaking hand to show him the picture and you didn’t even need to look at him to know he was shocked by what he saw.

You didn’t even know Jack was dating again, let alone be ready to propose to someone and the fact you could tell exactly where it was made it hurt even more. The place you’d planned on visiting once you’d both saved up enough to live out your big dream and looking at him living it without you felt suffocating. Like the elephant from the picture was sat on your chest so it could crush you until you never breathed again and all you wanted was to flee the scene and scream your lungs out.

‘Oh love, I’m so sorry’

‘It’s fine, you didn’t do anything’ you shrugged, taking your phone back from him before locking it and you couldn’t decide if you wanted to talk about it or not. Thankfully Mason made that decision for you and started going off about him and how he was never right for you in hopes it would make you feel better and you couldn’t deny shit talking about him for a bit made you smile a tiny bit.

‘You know I never liked him’ Mason told you after his big rant and when he took your hand in his he squeezed it tightly.

‘I know’ you laughed ‘I don’t care for him too much either’

‘What’s got you all upset then?’ He asked. Pulling you into his side a bit further and you rested your head on his shoulder so you could talk without looking at him.

‘I don’t even know’ you shrugged. ‘Its just weird to see I guess. Makes me feel like there’s something wrong with me’

‘There’s nothing wrong with you at all’

‘But if he can do it for her, like grow up and be a proper man then why couldn’t he do that for me?’

‘Because he wasn't meant for you’

‘Who is meant for me then huh? Cause they’re taking their bloody sweet time getting here’ you laughed but there was no humour in it.

I’m meant for you Mason thought. But he kept his lips zipped as he just wanted to be there for you.

The more you thought about him the angrier and more upset you became. Tears eventually spilling over onto your cheeks and there was no way you could hide them from Mason.

‘I know you didn’t like him, but he was the first boy I really loved, you know?’ You croaked. Looking up to Mason for a bit of sympathy and thankfully he was giving you just that. ‘The first one who told me they saw a future with me and mapped it out for us. Who wasn’t afraid to show me off even on my bad days and yeah it sucked the way it ended but we were happy once’

‘I know you were. And I know it’s cheesy but if you can be happy with him then imagine how happy you could be with me’

‘Wait… with you?’ You questioned. Mason's face paling as he realised what he’d said. A slip of the tongue that he was meant to keep inside but now it was out in the open and you could tell he was flustered.

‘Oh uh, no I didn’t meant me I um, I meant like-‘

‘No… you said you. You meant you’ you pressed, wanting him to just come out and say it but you knew he wasn’t going to. Fighting with his whole being to not let anything else slip out.

‘Y/n I-‘

‘Just be honest with me’ you told him firmly. Wanting him to come out and tell you what you already knew but now his face was bright red and even though he’d seemily backed him into corner he wasn’t coming out anytime soon.

‘Please y/n’

‘Do you… do you still have feelings for me?’ You asked. A mix of tiredness and your frustration about what you’d seen getting the better of you and as he tried to stutter out another excuse you lost it.

‘What? I-‘

‘Why are you doing this to me? You’re just as bad as him sometimes. Fucking with my emotions like this all the time. I told you when we were kids how I felt but here we are again. You’re making everything about you!’

‘I didn’t-‘

‘Whatever I don’t care. I’m going to bed’ you huffed. Storming off upstairs and slamming your door behind you in hopes that would send him a bit more of a message but as soon as you’d flopped down onto your bed you’d regretted the way you’d spoken to him. Tears springing in your eyes once more but you just let them flow, not ready to talk to anyone just yet as you needed to unscramble your thoughts

Mason had been sat with his thoughts for around five minutes when he heard footsteps coming back down the stairs but he knew straight away they weren’t yours. Waiting quietly for Gee to make her way into the living room and when she appeared in the doorway with the Gem the giraffe, the Teddy he’d gifted her when she’d just been born, under her arm Mason sent her a warm smile.

‘What are you doing up and about, misses? You should be asleep’

‘Where’s mummy’ she mumbled, her voice slow and sleepy as she rubbed her eyes and he realised she must have woken up when you’d slammed the door to your bedroom.

‘She’s just gone upstairs for a little bit. What’s wrong, pickle?’

‘Loud noise’ she pouted and Mason's suspicions were confirmed.

‘Oh I’m sorry, Gee. Would you like to come and sit with me for a bit?’ He asked, praying she would say yes so he wouldn’t have to go and disturb you but thankfully Gee nodded and made her way over to Mason. Standing in between his legs with her arms raised so he could lift her into his lap and once she was comfy with Gem cuddled into her chest, she was asleep again soon after. Her face smooshed into his shoulder as she laid across his body, holding onto his hoodie string with her tiny fist and he held her tightly before kissing her head good night.

It was around half an hour later when you realised you probably owed Mason an apology for blowing up like you had. Rubbing your eyes and sitting yourself up so you could build up the courage to make your way back down in hopes he was still on the sofa.

You came down to an unexpected sight, Mason still in his seat but a little visitor was asleep on his chest and your heart melted as you watched his hand rub over her back before he kissed the top of her head. Seemingly engrossed in whatever he had on the TV but he must have seen you moving in the corner of his eye and he turned to face you with a petrified expression.

‘What's Gee doing down here?’ You asked quietly.

‘She woke up when you went upstairs’ he told you and you instantly knew it was when you’d slammed the door. Guilt flooding you straight away that you’d managed to upset everyone under this roof tonight unintentionally. ‘I was gonna take her up in a bit she just seemed comfy here’

‘It’s okay, I’ll do it’ you nodded. Walking over and carefully picking her up from him and your heart thumped as she clung to your neck but that wasn’t the only reason. She smelt just like Mason as she’d been laying on him for so long and the need for his comfort consumed you. You just didn’t know if he’d want to give it to you this time.

It was a fairly simple job getting her back into bed. Usually when Gee was asleep she was dead to the world which made you feel even worse that you’d managed to wake her up but once she was back comfy under the covers with Gem cuddled under her chin, you stayed with her for a few minutes to check she was okay.

‘Mummy’s sorry baby’ you whispered. Pressing a kiss to her forehead as you smoothed her hair from her face but you knew there was someone else you needed to go and say sorry to.

Mason was still sat in the same spot, head resting on his hand that was propped up on the arm of the sofa and when you walked in he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. You didn’t give him the chance to say anything and you didn’t speak either, just crawled onto the sofa next to him and took up the space Gee just was. Nestling your head into his shoulder as you sprawled across him and even though the pair of you needed to talk things through, you were both giggling as he wrapped his arms around you and held you like a baby. Popping a kiss on your cheek as you got each comfy in each other's arms, a comfortable slice falling over you but you knew you needed to speak.

When you looked up at him, he was already looking down at you. Eyes full of confusion and hurt and even though you were terrified to open up to him, his scent that was so strong on Gee was now filling your senses and you felt at peace.

You felt at home.

‘I'm sorry for blowing up at you’

‘It’s okay-‘

‘No it’s not, Mase. You're not my punching bag and I shouldn't have said all that to you. It’s not your fault he’s gone and done that, I was just upset. The whole safari thing, that was my thing you know? Our thing, even. Not his’

‘I know love, and that’s what I meant earlier. He was a dickhead and you still wanted to go there with him, imagine the fun we’d have? And you don’t even need to imagine cause I promised you when we were kids I was taking you and I intend to stick to that promise’

‘Really’ you pouted.

‘Of course. You know when Gee’s a little older and she knows what’s going on and I’ve got the time I’m taking all of us, okay? I promised I would and I keep my promises’

‘Now I feel even more like a twat’ you laughed but he just held you closer. ‘I’m really sorry, Mase. It’s just hard. He always seems to get what he wants you know? He doesn’t deserve a happy ending’

‘I know it is, but you’ll get yours one day though i promise’ he whispered. ‘Shall we get you to bed? We can talk about it tomorrow if you still want to but I don’t want you down here winding yourself up’

‘Will you stay with me tonight?’ You asked. Looking up into big brown eyes. ‘I just know I’ll go crazy if I’m on my own’

‘Okay’ he replied shyly. Kissing your forehead gently before holding you close as you buried your nose into his neck. ‘If that’s what you want’

You realised in that moment that was a perfect phrase to sum up yours and Masons friendship.

If that’s what you want.

All he ever did was give you what you wanted to try and make you happy and as you laid in his arms you knew the next time he needed you you would be there for him in ways you never had before.

Little did you know that he’d be needing your more than he ever had sooner than you thought.

‘Will you sing to me like you sing to Gee?’ you asked. Laughing as you wrapped your arms around his bicep and nuzzled into his shoulder once you were both ready and in bed and you could tell from the way he laughed it was a no, but soon enough his soft voice was filtering through the room. Barely a whisper as he sung to you the song that was always reserved for Gee and it must have had the desired effect as soon enough you were sleeping peacefully next to him.

Mason kept singing though, using the fact that you were asleep to help him out a bit as the second verse of the song he always pictured you. It was like whoever wrote it had plucked the lyrics straight from Masons brain and you being asleep gave him the courage to finally sing this part to you.

‘Though you're close to me, we seem so far apart

Maybe given time you'll have a change of heart

If it takes forever, girl, then I'm prepared to wait

The day you give your love to me, won't be a day too late’

Tag list - @saltyheartnightmare @harvestmount @prideofpd @sid-vii @carlottawllms @footiehoemcfc @katharinanadiaa @whenelifallsinlove @neverinadream @cityzenchick @msnmnt @stikkibun @masonmtxo @chillymountsjess @yoursselo @maseymm @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @leclerc13

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something to talk about

Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington wc: 2223 | T | Tags/Themes: Gossip, Stobin Banter and Best Friendism, a Hint of Pre-Bubblescoops a late addition for @stobinmonth day 1: gossip. AO3

Robin had been introduced to gossip through band. Which made her infuriatingly difficult to impress.

Steve was good at gossip. No, the best at it.

When he dropped Tommy, and by extension lost Carol, he went from Steve: the guy who could put together a killer party in his big empty house to what he actually was Steve: nice guy, but a little… The trailing off was usually paired with some kind of hand gesture. One that could mean a bunch of different things, and didn’t get any nicer when he started flinching when the fluorescents flickered during tornado season. 

But he had gossip as social capital.

He made it through that last year bouncing lunch table to lunch table whispering with the cheerleaders or the swim team about break-ups, make-ups, and who’d gotten busted with their latest purchase from Munson on their way back from the picnic table.

But band gossip was something else.

There was a social hierarchy beyond cheerleaders who bounced from football player to basketball when the seasons changed. It was more like the politics from the bodice rippers that he snuck off his Mom’s shelf.

It wasn’t just that Becky G. got caught getting fingered on the bus coming back from the away game. It’s that she’s a french horn and the guy was a percussionist. A word Robin hissed through her teeth like he should know what it meant.

Terri Miller wasn’t just pregnant. She’d gotten pregnant during the band camp social week at the Boy Scout campground. So the dad could be any one of four different guys, and if she didn’t guess right they would definitely know when those nine months were up.

The band was apparently some kind of den of sin and Robin still hadn’t managed to get any. Which was probably as unbelievable as the fact that any of this was happening in the first place.

Telling her that Mrs. Johnson was having an affair with Pat James, a second string baseball player who was young enough to be her son and not even that good looking -- a buzz cut with ears that stuck out from his head like dumbo -- had been met with the most unimpressed look he’d seen since they left Scoops.

“An affair, Steve, really?” She’d said. “Who cares about an affair? Something happened with the trombones and the flutes, the flutes, during Social Week and I still can’t piece together what happened since I missed the biggest week of the year because of all that Upside Down stuff.”

“You’re upset about missing out on some band drama? Not losing your sense of safety, trust in the American government, or your ability to sleep through the night?”

“I only had one of those things before all this. Now I can’t sleep and no one will tell me what’s going on with this cross-instrument family drama.”

Now that they’re in Indy it’s a little different.

It turns out in college even band kids have to study. And, much like underage drinking, some of the fun of a week-long orgy came from the threat of parent disapproval and disappointment.

Now Steve picks up his fair of strange half-conversations and relationship drama at the coffee shop he works at in the morning. Robin catches whisperings of affairs between students and professors. At night, when they barback at the lesbian bar Steve wandered into on accident right after they moved or when they’re curled up on the sofa Robin found at the thrift store two days after they signed on the apartment, they’ll share the best of what they’ve heard.

“No, Profesor Williams is the one with the weird eyes who teaches Philosophy. You’re thinking of the Music Theory professor and he’s definitely got a secret family somewhere but it’s with an age appropriate woman not a co-ed.”

“Green tea with extra lemon was leaning all over Black Coffee this morning when just last week he came in with that babe with the dark hair and glasses. One of them is his wife and the other is his girlfriend, but I haven’t figured out which one is which.”

“The pianist that’s always taking up the practice room is failing Chemistry 101 and when she tried to seduce the TA he reported her to the dean for academic misconduct. She’s a bitch but she’s also the only pianist in the program that can keep time, so I’ve got mixed feelings.”

“Americano and a muffin was telling his douchy coworker who never tips about how he got his secretary pregnant. She wants him to leave his wife, but he’s trying to decide if it’s worth it to keep her on or to hire and train a new girl. It made me remember I forgot to call my Dad’s secretary for his birthday.”

It gets them through the night but gossiping about strangers doesn’t have the same thrill as gossiping about shared classmates and the sort-of friends they'd known since Kindergarten. Doesn’t have the thrill of learning something new and excitingly interesting or terrible about someone they got to then see everyday.

It’s femoral or whatever Robin was saying about why she gets sad when she finishes her book. It doesn’t last and unlike the neat conclusion of the bodice rippers that moved with him from Hawkins -- he has a soft spot for the duchesses who get seduced by rogues and scoundrels, sue him -- the bits and pieces they get are unconnected from any other point in these people’s lives. He probably won’t get to see if Americano’s secretary gets an abortion or if she keeps the baby. Robin might get to see if the professor who has a taste for blondes who've just turned 18 gets busted, but it all depends on her schedule for the next semester.

Which makes what he has for her today perfect. More than perfect, it’s going to be something that’ll actually leave Robin impressed. She might even gape instead of just half-smiling with a single eyebrow raised, her mouth saying “oh wow” while her face says, ‘I’ve heard better.’ There is no better this time. This one might change everything.

“Guess who I saw today?”

“You’re coming from work to work so can be here til close tonight before you open at the job you just left tomorrow morning. There are doctors who work shorter hours than you are this week. Why are you so excited?” Robin uses the well bottle of tequila to point accusingly at him. Not answering the question he asked or even engaging with  his exciting news.

“It’s coffee, Robin. Four shots of espresso will fix anything. Now guess.”

“That guy who basically orders chocolate milk with a splash of coffee and found out his wife was sleeping with his twin brother?”

“No, I haven’t seen him since he saw them out the window that day.”

“Latte with cinnamon? Did he actually ask you out instead of just dropping his wallet condom on the counter when he was trying to pay?”

“No.” He says, that one is pretty tragic. That guy had been hot. The butch across from him clears her throat and he goes back to shaking her martini. “Try again.”

“I don’t like this game.” Robin winks at the blonde at the bar, handing her a shot like what she was saying to him was some kind of line for her.

He debates whether or not it’s worth it actually making her guess again. Steve’s himness has been fluid enough that he does get the occasional number while working here; he isn't sure he wants Robin to continue announcing his dating failures for anyone to overhear. 

“Carol Perkins.”

That slows her hand mid-pour; the vampy looking femme in front of her is getting her money’s worth on her vodka soda.

“Are you thinking of trading down,” Robin asks finally, tucking the tip she gets into the jar and the phone number into her pocket.

“Jealous, you know you’re my only girl.”

“Tell that to Brenda and Debbie and Melanie and Stacy…”

“Only one that matters.”

“Why do I care that you saw Carol Perkins for the first time in years?” Robin says, the only hint that this is actually a question she wants answered is the tick at the edge of her brow and the hand on her hip.

And because Steve is an ass, he’ll say it, he takes his time answering. Mixes a margarita, pours a Long Island, tells someone too young to be here that she’d be better with a coke than a cosmo. When the smoke is pouring out of Robin’s ears, when she’s trying to make it seem like she’s ignoring him now he tells her what he’s been dying to all day.

“She had a carabiner on her purse.”

“A carabiner?”

“On her purse.”

“Kinda defeats the purpose,” Robin says with her nose trying its hardest to stay out of the air.

“Depends on the purpose, doesn’t it?”

“Is Carol cute?” The leather dyke Steve had been pulling a beer for asks.

“Yeah,” he says, easy.

Not that it can be heard over the way Robin snaps, “She’s not your type.” Something snarling and possessive that Steve hasn’t seen since his last date tried to intrude on their SteveAndRobin time crossing her face and curling her lip.

“She’s vapid,” she says in response to Steve’s smile which says just as much as his words would have been able to, at least to her. 

“Sure.”

“And mean. And she always had that gum in her mouth.”

“Those were all true things about her when she was sixteen. The same year you had that perm.”

“Don’t even act like you remember that, Steven Marie Harrington. You had to look it up in the yearbook when you found out.”

“You want me to give her our number.”

“I want you to come back to me with actual gossip instead of whatever this is.”

“So you don’t want to hear about how she told Black tea with sugar that she transferred to IU after a bad breakup with her partner.”

“Nope.”

“Don’t want to hear how she asked me if I knew anyone up here when she was at the register?”

“Why would I care?”

He shrugs, lets it seem like he’s distracted grabbing a fresh bottle of vodka from their stash. “I mean she had some questions about you and what you were doing. Seemed pretty interested, thought you might be too.”

“You’re my least favorite person in the world,” she lies. 

“Consider this payback from when you told me the guy at the library was flagging. I walked to campus just to watch him make out with his girlfriend.”

“I said I was sorry, Mark from my History class said-”

“Mark from your History class was the same guy who tried to play devil’s advocate for person breeding-”

“Eugenics,” she corrects with a wince.

“Mark from History class does not get to be a source for information anymore.”

“Were you wearing your glasses? Cause if you weren’t you don’t get to be a source of information either. Who wears a carabiner on their purse? It could have been a really big safety pin.”

“I can’t believe you’re doubting me.”

“It’s not doubt.”

“It is. I told her where we work.”

“What?” The bottle she’s holding slips from her hand, bouncing on the rubber mat beneath their feet. It doesn’t break but the beer foams and froths as it spills onto the already sticky floor. Robin snatches another bottle, opening it with her ring and handing it off quickly to the woman across from her.

“I told her where we work.” He puts a heavy and weighted pause between each slowly drawn out word.

“I heard you.”

“Then why-”

“You why!”

“Me why! Because there was a carabiner on her purse Robin! Carol likes-”

She slaps her hand across his mouth for just a second, just long enough for it to feel less like a hint than hit. “Don’t finish that sentence here or ever.”

“She could like you, I’m telling you she seemed interested when she learned you were in town with me. That I knew you.”

“So you gave her directions to a dyke bar out of the goodness of your heart.”

“There was nothing good in my heart, it was out of my desire to get you laid.”

“I can get laid all by myself.” Robin snaps, louder than she should. Even with the din of the bar it sounds loud.

“I bet you can,” the voice that answers is as familiar to Steve as Robin’s. The smug and teasing way it curls around what it’s saying. Carol, smirking, with an elbow against the bar and the light catching her hair like a flame.

“I’m just going to go down here,” Steve says, ignoring the way Robin glares like she wants him to be the one aflame. “The opposite side of the bar could use some attention, so you’ve got this, Rob. Care, good to see you again.”

“Steve,” Carol greets and dismisses. “I’ll be sure to give you all something new to gossip about tomorrow.”

“You’ll have your work cut out for you. She’s got a high tolerance for that sort of thing, it may take you all night.”

“I’ll give you something to talk about.”

[piratefalls]

so i was reading this post (which, like, a++ no notes, love it) and tbh I love the idea of buck and tommy getting secretly married and trying to keep it a secret for however long they can. but what if they didn't try to hide it?

what if they woke up one morning, sun streaming through the curtains they forgot to close the night before, and buck just looks at tommy and is like...yeah. this. i want this. and with a scratchy voice suggests to a half asleep tommy that maybe one day it would be nice to wake up like this, only married. and it's not truly out of the blue, because they've talked about it and it's what they both want, but he's a little caught off guard when tommy just groans and mutters a fond goddammit evan. tommy rolls out of bed, digs around in the back of their closet, comes back with a velvet box in one hand. he wipes the sleep from his eyes and says he was planning on asking at dinner that night, but now is good, too.

and instead of going out for dinner they stay in, order thai, and talk about it. what they want, what they don't, and the general consensus seems to be that all they really want is to just...be married. the how and the where of it all doesn't really matter. so instead of telling everyone, instead of going through the mess of caterers and florists and venues and everyone's conflicting opinions and and and, they just...look at their schedules, pick their next joint day off, and make an appointment at the courthouse. they'll have a party with family and friends later, but with how chaotic their lives can be, doing this quietly, with just them, feels right.

in the end it's just them, two random people they pull from the hallway to be witnesses, and a justice of the peace. and it's perfect.

buck is so deliriously happy that he gives up on the notion that he'll be able to hide it the second he goes back to work, so on his first shift after they get married he walks into the 118 still in his civvies, with a brand new silver ring on his finger and a grin on his face so big you could see it from space, goes straight to the loft where everyone is eating breakfast, and... enthusiastically slams the marriage license down on the table.

he'd already printed and signed a change of name form and other things bobby would have asked him to sign anyway, so he hands those over too. the room goes silent, and he just grins at their surprised faces, gives the room a fist pump (left hand, ring on display, of course) and walks down the stairs to the locker room.

he makes it halfway before everyone he hears the shuffling of feet above him and, after a brief pause during which he assumes they're reading the paperwork, they start talking over each other. there's hen's "you did what" and chimney's sing-songy "oh your sister's gonna killlll youuuuuu" and ravi's confused "wait this surprises you guys?" and eddie's talking quietly, probably on the phone with tommy so the man himself can hear the chaos that's taken over the 118 and also to get gossip straight from the source. and bobby just comes down and pulls him into a hug and murmurs that he's proud of him. there's so much happening right now, but all buck feels is a sense of peace.

(they do have a small ceremony and a very lively party a month later. they have no regrets.)

[herlondonboy]

loose lips sink ships, clarisse la rue

summary: based on this ask

warnings: hurry and comfort

wc: 0.7k

a/n: just a short fic before i go to bed

you liked talking. you could speak for hours about meaningless subjects and meaningful subjects, like going to the outside world to buy more posters. but most of all, you liked talking about people. not in a rude way, just like your gain so much information and explode at clarisse.

she didn’t care for demigod drama, but she loved your voice. if anyone else tried talking her ear off, they wouldn’t have a tongue to talk with anymore.

but you?

she could fall asleep to you talking, wake up to you talking, and have you talk all through the day, and she’d never get sick of it. because she loved you. she loved so you much, she would kill for you if you asked.

it like you spoke before you thought. you hated it, but you were constantly on autopilot. you wanted it to stop. you saw the looks people would give you when you relayed information that you probably shouldn’t have.

at one point, people just stopped talking to you. you didn’t realise, you only really spoke to silena, chris, and clarisse anyway. it didn’t affect you that much.

then they stopped talking when you walked into a room.

it hurt, you weren’t going to lie. i mean, of course it did. you were being ostracised by the entire camp. you were being left alone by the people that were supposed to be your family. you knew why, so you tried to change.

the next morning, you silently walked to the mess hall. it was winter, so you were eating inside, and sat next to your girlfriend.

“hey, baby,” she said in a smug tone. “you okay?”

you nodded and looked around just as silena and chris came and sat opposite the two of you. they engaged in a light conversation, but you just fiddled with your fingers, willing yourself not to speak, not to annoy anyone.

there were whispers, you wondered if they were about the fact you hadn’t opened your mouth at all and breakfast was almost up.

you started to tear up. nothing you ever did was good enough. you talk? you’re annoying. you don’t talk? you’re weird.

“y/n,” you heard, making you snap up and see all three of them looking at you. your eyes dance between them. “what do you think? james and sam are getting awfully close, right?”

you shrugged, “i dunno.” you did know. james and sam had been with you for archery. they got all up close and personal as james tried to teach her correct form, brushing up against her. that wouldn’t be that bad of it weren’t for james’s girlfriend, who was hanging out with her felling aphrodite siblings in the fields, blissfully unaware of her promiscuous boyfriend.

“you don’t know?”

gods, why were they trying to encourage you?

“i don’t,” you said softly, looking down, making sure no one else could hear you.

they could. they could and they were all looking at you. the tears in your eyes became harder and harder to keep at bay, so you pushed your chair back and stormed off, not daring to open your mouth. you wondered if your cries would annoy them.

clarisse found you nearly an hour later. you were sitting on the beach, toes dipped into the water.

“hey,” you looked at her but didn’t say anything. “what’s wrong?” you shrugged. clarisse didn’t like that. “nuh-uh. nope. we’re not doing that. you told me that communication is key. you. talk to me, baby.”

“i don’t do it on purpose,” you whispered. “i can’t control it, they have to know that. my mouth is constantly on autopilot, i don’t mean to be a gossip, it’s just hardwired in me,” tears gathered in your eyes. “so i tried being quite, but they hated that too. i can’t please them.”

clarisse furrowed her eyebrows. “who was it?”

“what?”

“you heard me.”

“um, there was deena and tommy from the hermes cabin?” you answered.

clarisse nodded with a smirk. “i’m gonna beat up luke, too.”

you nodded and brightened up. “did you hear hermes drove luke’s mom to insanity? i also hear that hermes is trying to make it up to him, but luke isn’t hearing him out. he’s got the kind of hatred that would make him turn against the gods.”

clarisse smiled at you and you furrowed your eyebrows. she leaned forward to kiss you softly. “you’re back, is all.”

you chuckled softly. “it’s good to be back.” the two of you stood and you gasped. “which reminds me-“

[baronessvonglitter]

Wip Wednesday

thank you @probablyreadinsmut @letsgobarbs @joelmillerisapunk @604to647 @evolnoomym 💎

Is everyone else still recovering from yesterday's Materialists trailer? I know I've got teeth marks on the bars of my enclosure from gnawing on them all day. And at the end of the day I was just

especially because it sparked my long-withheld idea for a billionaire!Joel story. If you've ever seen How to Marry a Millionaire or Sabrina it's something along that vein. Joel is the older brother, patriarch of the family who's constantly having to rein in his younger, playboy brother and to keep the family name out of gossip.

When he finds out YOU have been catfishing his gullible, lovestruck brother, he intends to put a stop to your plans.. but you may have more in common with the stern older brother than you think.. you both have a hard time believing in love and put wealth over feelings.. could that change? 🤨

It’s an enemies to lovers trope where Joel is a bit Mr Darcy-ish, and there will be some hate fucking because you and him are idiots in love and neither wants to admit it but you are breaking down each other’s walls. The reader is a scammer but also a hot mess. Did I mention she’s curvy? Because while Tommy likes willowy supermodels, Joel prefers a gal with tits, ass, and thick thighs 😍 (who doesn’t?) Here's a slice now:

"How to Catfish a Billionaire"

Tommy M: Good morning! How's the most beautiful woman in the world today?

There it is. The early morning text from your sugar daddy. Except it's not early morning, it's nearly 10 a.m.

You squint at the screen, still in your oversized sleep tee, silk sleeping mask pushed up over your forehead. With a sigh you reply:

good morning daddy 🫦 hope you had wet dreams about me 🍆💦

You heave yourself out of bed and toward the bathroom to freshen up for the day. You already know he’s going to reply with lightning speed. Sure enough as you're in the middle of brushing your teeth, you hear the ding of his reply. With a mouth full of foamy toothpaste you check the screen.

Tommy M: every night, gorgeous.

{Tommy Miller sent you $500}

You smile. But then your stomach flips at the following message and your unfortunate spit take lands flecks of white toothpaste on your phone screen.

Tommy M: I want you to come to New York. It's time we meet in person.

(Still some things to work out and I don't want to publish until I have it fully outlined at least.)

Thx for letting me rant about this, it’s been rotting my brain for the past 36 hours 😅

tagging some I screamed at about this and some who maybe will be interested 🥹... also, show me your wips! @milla-frenchy @itwasntimethatdidit40 @ohhoneypascal @sunshinehaze1 @joelalorian @everybodylovedcontractors @inept-the-magnificent @nerdieforpedro @myownwholewildworld @letsgobarbs

[bingbongsupremacy]

Closure Pt. 2

Pairing: Steve Harrington x plus size!reader

Warnings: swearing, anger, idk what else

Series Summary: You never knew Steve could be so shallow. When he leaves you to date Nancy Wheeler, you're left with a pain you thought he'd never leave with you. Maybe you should've stayed friends.

Part Summary: He wrote a letter. You don't need him. Right?

*Not Proof Read* Stranger Things Masterlist

Based off of Taylor Swift Song Closure. This was a request. I tried to make everything as general as possible. Pls let me know if missed something ty.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

*****

No one was supposed to know we were dating. Steve said he didn’t want his teammates to bug me. He didn’t want people to overreact when they found out about us and say mean shit. At the time, I agreed. I mean, Steve’s the king of Hawkins high. I wouldn’t be the first girl he’s dated who’s had rumors spread about them. 

Hiding us was harder than we thought. A month or so after we got together Tommy found out and told the whole team. Gradually the whole school found out. Gossip spreads like wildfire, especially in a town like Hawkins. 

During the weeks after we broke up, I started to think about our secret relationship.

He wasn’t trying to protect me. He was trying to protect his reputation. Steve might not show it but deep down he’s just like everyone else. He’s got insecurities too. He obsesses over anything negative that’s said about him, analyzing everything that others think is imperfect about him until he finds a way to change it.

That’s something I noticed sophomore year when we started to get a little closer.

He was kind to me, but he wasn’t perfect. I don’t know for sure but I think he still messed with underclassmen, bullying them for praise from Tommy and Carol. He wanted to be liked by everyone, especially those two assholes.

He was always going to pick them over me. 

“ Honey, this came in for you today. “ My mom breaks me out of my thoughts. 

I look up from my stack of paperwork. “ What? From who? “ My brows furrow in confusion. Who would send mail to my parents’ house? I haven’t lived here in years. 

“ It’s from Steve. “ My moms eyes scan over the stark white envelope. 

My heart sinks. 

What the fuck does he want? 

I haven’t seen or talked to him since graduation 7 years ago. What could he want with me? Last I heard he got a job at Family Video and Nancy broke up with him. 

He knows I’m here. He has to. Fucking Hawkins. When one person knows everyone knows. Mrs. Henderson must’ve told someone when I ran into her at the gas station. 

“ What ever happened to you and Steve? Do you both still talk? “ My mom asks curiously while handing over my mail. 

Oh right. I never told her. 

“ We fell out of touch. You know, life. " I shrug, hoping that's enough for her.

" Oh, that's so sad sweetie. I'm sorry. " She sends me a small sympathetic smile. " That's always hard when you lose touch with someone you love. " She gently pats my shoulder.

Love.

Steve didn't love me.

I send her a small smile, hoping to drop the topic. " It happens, ma. "

" Well, I'll you get to it. " She dismisses herself, leaving me to the letter in my hands.

I trace the sharp corners of the envelope. Should I open it? Do I want to?

I wonder what it says.

What could he have to say to me after all of these years? It couldn't be something worth my time. Not after the shit that happened in high school. Right?

But what if it is?

Fuck it. I'm curious.

I pull open the envelope and let the torn paper fall into my lap. A neatly folded letter greens me, the bright white stationary paper matching the envelope.

This is it. Here we go.

I pull open the letter. Dark blue pen lines starkly contrast the white paper. Steve's familiar handwriting fills a good portion of the page. At the bottom his squiggly signature lies, bold and exactly the same as I remember.

Y/N,

I hope this letter finds you. I heard you're back in town. I've been meaning to do this for a long time. I've debated writing to you for years. I didn't know if I had anything good enough to send to you.

I was an asshole to you. You didn't deserve how I broke up with you. I feel horrible about how I treated you. About how I let other people change my opinion and control my actions. I should've stood stronger with what I thought.

That's something I always loved about you. You didn't let other people sway your opinions. I'm sure you still don't. You thought for yourself.

You are so much braver than I am. You didn't compromise yourself for others.

I've thought about what happened for years. About how you must have felt.

I hope you're well. I hope you've been able to move on and you've continued to be yourself. I know I don't deserve to say that, I just wish you the best.

I wanted to explain to you why I did what I did. I owe it to you. I was selfish. I got caught up in the high school popularity shit. I know it's stupid. I wanted to be Hawkins High's main guy. I wanted the Prom King title. I wanted the attention.

I really did like you. You made me feel safe and understood. You were always patient and kind. You urged me to be me, even when I felt like caving under pressure. You liked me for me, not for who I was trying to be. You deserved better than me.

People started to talk. You know. You heard the rumors.

At first, I thought I could handle it. I thought it wouldn't bug me. I thought I could push past it all. I cracked. Tommy and Carol jumped on the wagon and it pushed me over the edge. I couldn't bare the thought of losing the respect I'd worked so hard to get. I couldn't handle the teasing I'd get from the guys after games or the looks Tommy'd send my way when he saw us together.

It was wrong. I didn't think about you. About how you must've felt and how you were handling everything that was going on. It was Senior Year. I should've held on. We would've been out of this shit hole in a few months anyway, I don't know why I didn't just ignore it all. That's one of my biggest regrets.

I've been in therapy for a few years now. I've worked past all that surface-level shallow shit. I really see just how much I hurt you, and for that I'm so sorry.

I don't expect you to forgive me. I just wanted you to know that you're the first girl I ever loved and I am so grateful for you. Our relationship sent me on a path to help myself, and for that I will always love you.

Thank you.

-Steve Harrington

P.S. The week before we broke up I was going to give this to you. I never did.

I glance down at the envelope in my lap and open it. At the bottom lays a shiny silver necklace. A small gem, my birthstone, lays in the center. It glimmers in the light. It's beautiful.

I turn the gem over and spot a small engraving on the back.

SH +Y/N

For a moment I'm torn.

Should I write him back? Should we talk?

Part of me does miss him. I miss his laugh. His playful teasing. The way he looked at me.

No.

He hurt me. A lot.

He can't just send a letter and make it better. Why didn't he talk to me in person if this really weighed on him as much as he says it did? Why didn't he call me?

I don't need him. I'm fine. I've been fine without him for years. I'm not going to let him back into my life because he feels bad about his actions and insecurities.

I left Hawkins for a reason. I needed to get away from Steve. I needed him out of my life.

I'm not going to let him back in for his sake.

I don't need him.

I stand up, taking the papers and necklace in my hand. I walk over to the trashcan near my dresser. Without a second thought, I drop everything into the can.

The necklace makes a small clunking sound as it hits the bottom of my empty can.

The rustling of papers quiets and so does my pounding heart.

I'm fine on my own.

(Do we like this ending? Or should I try to make another part? )

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @queen-apple24

[alchemistc]

too many toasters | bucktommy 1/1

Tommy contemplates asking Buck to move in with him.

read on ao3

He's reorganizing a cupboard to make room for the massive crockpot he'd found for a steal at an estate sale (thinking of the stew he wants to make for Evan the next time the Santa Ana's are chasing at their heels) when he notices.

Evan's protein powder, still balanced on top of the fridge because he's hesitant to claim the spot Tommy had cleared for him weeks ago.

Evan's spare immersion blender, brought over because he'd seen Tommy's old-school espresso maker and wanted to try his hand at foam art. Unsuccessfully, considering both of them were avoiding cows milk at the moment.

The spare set of Jeep keys looped next to the garage door, which Evan hadn't asked him to return after Tommy changed his oil, and Tommy had taken to touching on his way out of the house like a wife stroking a token of her husband far off in a foreign country fighting a war.

In the living room, the blanket over the couch is tucked and folded in a way Tommy can never replicate and doesn't try, because he likes the look of it, hanging neatly over the arm of the loveseat.

In the garden, a second set of gloves, too unwieldy for anything but pulling thick weeds.

In the bathroom, the mouthwash Evan swears by tucked next to Tommy's aftershave in the medicine cabinet.

In the bedroom, two hoodies Tommy has stolen and stretched out the shoulders of - a flavored lube in the bedside table drawer that they'd both laughed themselves silly about after one use and Tommy hadn't had the heart to toss in the trash the next morning - three department issue tee's folded neatly in his wardrobe that Evan outgrew years ago and has retrofitted for sleepwear - a book on the bloody history of the potato on top of the ancient PS4 setup Tommy still hasn't moved to the living room.

And more - Tommy can picture them all in his mind clear as day, and his heart lurches fondly, warningly, in his chest.

They’ve settled somewhere between normal and warp speed, now that the early relationship milestones have all been blown clean out of the water. Spare keys exchanged, controversial sexual fantasies shared, shovel talks mostly avoided by the sheer power of dry wit and matching bitchiness, I love you’s exchanged beneath a hazy crescent moon with half a bottle of Merlot drunk between them and the wisteria hanging off his pergola tickling their noses. Tommy counts the time Evan had let him throw the Jeep up on the lift so he could do a full diagnostic rundown, and Evan counts the time Tommy let him Facetime with his nephew in Reno. Milestones, common and uncommon, that Tommy had stumbled through with a hand clenched in Evan’s, absolutely prepared to match both speed and psychosis.

He’s met the parents, at more than just a passing glance with his face covered in the same soot that painted a radius around Evan’s mouth. He’s fully integrated into the 118’s groupchats - every iteration, though he’s fond of the Maddie-Karen-Athena combo that never fails to go for the throat where station fuckery is involved.

They’ve done the stupid zodiac quizzes Tommy’s sister had sent him, Evan curled into the circle of his arms and ignoring the barrage of texts he’d gotten from Maddie after he’d asked her what time of day he’d been born, grinning into the skin of Tommy’s pec at the readout and then promptly reminding Tommy that neither one of them believed in that shit, anyway.

They’ve talked about the future — for themselves, individually, for the possibility with a partner. For each other, if (when, Tommy’s heart whispers) they make a good run of things.

Evan’s lease is up in a month.

They haven’t talked about it.

He only knows because Eddie had mentioned it, about as subtle as a bullhorn, before Tommy had to stop him from gossiping about all the missteps Evan’s had with living with significant others in the past.

(”There are things about Evan I should hear from Evan first,” Tommy had told him, a little more stern than he’d been going for, enough to make Eddie visibly swallow down a barrage of thinly veiled disdain for Evan’s exes.)

Evan hasn’t brought it up, but Tommy knows a little , enough to piece together why he might be reluctant to broach the subject.

But as Tommy shifts the popcorn maker into a corner and removes the toaster he’s been tinkering with to no avail for six months now, crockpot sliding in without so much as a rustle from the other kitchenware stuffed in there, he thinks about the recent quiet that has swallowed him whole on nights when they just can’t quite make the revolving door of their disparate schedules work. He thinks of the times he’s pushed through the door to Evan’s loft, dead on his feet and world-weary after a patient arrived at the helipad DOA — of the sound of his voice falling into a tangent easing something inside Tommy even though his joints and his heart were both still aching.

He thinks of the way Evan looks, toothpaste on the corners of his lips because he’s had a thought halfway through brushing that couldn’t wait the extra forty-five seconds to be heard. He thinks of the way he hates washing his sheets between visits, now, because he doesn’t like losing the faint scent of Evan’s shampoo on the pillowcase.

Tommy closes the cabinet and makes a beeline for the jug of protein powder sitting on top of his fridge. Opens the cabinet door above it and shifts the jug back into the spot he’d assigned it weeks ago.

“Right,” he says, out loud, into the silence of the house.

The house sighs back at him.

---

Tommy is incredibly good at stifling the part of himself that enjoys rom-coms more than any other genre of fiction. He’s had years, decades, to push his soft sighs down below his diaphragm where they can’t hurt him.

Evan appreciates how little fanfare there’s been to most of their firsts. The lack of pressure, the ease with which they’ve approached things that they’d both previously considered watershed moments.

He considers texting Eddie to ask him if Evan has mentioned anything about re-upping his lease. Tosses that thought aside almost immediately, because he can already see the snarky response: There are things about Buck you should hear from Buck first.

He nearly reaches out to Bobby, before he remembers Bobby’s soft smile, a month and a half ago, while Evan carted a squealing Jee-Yun around Hen and Karen’s backyard, his gentle smile when Tommy had handed him a club soda and lime. (”You know, I never thought I’d see Buck settle in to something he doesn’t need a pep talk about,” Bobby had said, and something had unfurled in Tommy like a delicate flower reaching for the sun.) He could. It’s stupid to think Bobby wouldn’t be happy to talk to Tommy about something like this — but there’s a quiet voice in the back of his mind telling him this is something he needs to figure out for himself.

In the end, he keeps it simple. Just enough romance to maybe give Evan a heads up. Two nights after shoving Evan’s protein power where it belongs, Tommy tells him to dress slightly more than casual, picks him up in the Nova he’s been fixing up for three months, drives him up the PCH until the sun is low on the horizon. They watch the clouds spark up in pinks and purples, the sea reflecting colors back, and then Tommy gets them burgers and beers, and they walk them off in the twilight, shoes in their hands as they drift along the sun-warm sand.

Evan points out a cloud that he swears looks like the tree in the front yard of the house he grew up in, and Tommy seizes the moment, shifts the slim box from his back pocket while Evan is turned away. It’s nearly too dark, and they should probably have turned back for the car twenty minutes ago, but Evan has a step count he likes to meet when he won’t be at the gym for a few days, and they’ve got plans for a long weekend.

Tommy takes a deep breath when Evan turns back to look at him. His breath tumbles out in a rush when he catches sight of the box. “It’s not a ring,” Tommy tells him, cringing, hyperaware all of the sudden that Evan would absolutely know that just by the size and shape of the box.

Evan tilts back on his heels. There is a gentle grin on his face — the one he had five seconds before Tommy told him he loved him, the one he wore the first time Tommy threw one of his hoodies on in the chill of the loft and raised the cuffs surreptitiously to his nose, the one Tommy sees every time he presses a kiss to the pink mark over Evan’s brow.

Like he knows.

Like he’s been waiting on Tommy to catch up.

“You could have just said something yourself,” Tommy notes, with a hint of sass, as the picture comes into focus. “You didn’t have to send Eddie in to drop hints.”

Evan bites his lip. “Is that for me?” That cloud looks like the tree outside my childhood home, my ass.

Cheeky. God, Tommy loves him. “Could be.”

Evan crab-hands his way forward, and Tommy shifts his weight back just enough that he misses, in the growing dark. There’s a little helicopter on the keyring he’d bought, no key attached because Evan already has that, and it’s so sappy he’s bound to get half a dozen teasing texts about it the very first time someone at the 118 clocks it. Tommy doesn’t care.

Evan shifts his weight back, drops his hands to his sides. Tommy can see the moon reflecting off the water in the sparkle of his eyes. “Ask me,” Evan says, and Tommy leans in to kiss him, instead.

---

Tommy finds no less than six of his henley’s in the depths of Evan’s closet while they’re paring down the parts of his wardrobe he doesn’t wear anymore. Rather than comment on it, he folds them neatly and adds them to the keep pile.

The Buckley’s, always deciding to be overbearing at the worst of times, try to buy them a new mattress when they hear through the grapevine that Evan is moving.

Chimney spends a week giving Tommy shit about the keyring, and Tommy retaliates by buying Jee a toy copter that lights up, makes noise, and can manage to hover off the ground just at ankle height.

---

“We have four toasters,” Evan comments. They’ve spent an entire three days off unpacking, the both of them unsettled by the idea of leaving boxes stacked around the house, or in the spare room (Thank you, Eddie, for that shared trauma response).

He’s shirtless, rubbing a serum into his skin as Tommy settles in on his side of the bed, soft pink lips parted, favoring his good leg a little. Tommy’s already reaching for the massage oil by the time Evan has finished his thankfully simple skincare routine. Tommy needs to upgrade his stock medicine cabinet, if Evan is going to continue stockpiling a backup of both of their respective skin and hair products.

He waves the bottle of massage oil at Evan when he moves towards the bed, and something eases in Evan’s expression — the reminder that Tommy pays such close attention to him always enough to turn him a bit gooey, and Tommy has never used it for evil, but he could, if he wanted to. “Do you want to get comfortable to sleep, or is this going to make you horny again?”

Evan grins, bright and wide, a little mischievous as he tilts his head and cocks a hip. Down to his briefs, there’s not much left to Tommy’s imagination.

“Not my fault you’ve got magic hands.”

“I’m merely trying to perform a service for my partner who has been moving boxes up and down stairs for a week and a half.”

“I’ll perform a service on you,” Evan rebuttals, tongue between his teeth, and the muscles in Tommy’s groin tighten on instinct, more than anything else.

“Three out of ten for cheesiness. I’ll give you six overall for sticking the landing.”

“That’s at least an eight and you know it,” Evan argues, the side-sleeper knee pillow already out from under the bed and propping up his leg as he shifts to get comfortable.

Tommy doesn’t warm the dollop of oil in his hand before he slides his palm up Evan’s thigh, and Evan makes a noise halfway between a squeak and a snort. He shoots Tommy a bratty look that Tommy wants to devour, but —

He warms a much more generous pour of oil between his palms before he slowly searches out the deepest knots with gentle fingers, and Evan sighs, eyes tipping closed as Tommy works. His dick twitches in his briefs, but Tommy ignores it, for the time being.

They’ll have time for it later.

[texasbama]

The Gossip Girl thanksgiving scene but make it 9-1-1. Dinner at the firehouse. Athena is lying to Bobby about something or vice versa. Hen and Chimney are tense and arguing about the Mara thing. Maddie thinks she’s pregnant. Eddie blurts out “Im gay”. Tommy turns to Buck. Buck is staring at Eddie like his entire outlook on life has changed. Plates of food are being passed around. Silverware clatters. And before we cut to commercial you hear:

[johanna-swann]

JLH wanting Maddies love interest to be Chim instead of Eddie was what started the whole mess we have right now with Eddie, I think. Tim never really pivoted and just attached Eddie to Buck but predictably, everytime one or both of them gets a LI that construct stops working. It got especially obvious with Tommy showing up. Bucks only "arc" since S7 is his coming out/relationship with Tommy (since they did nothing with the Gerrard storyline) and yet that was hardly explored. Instead the relationship functioned at times as a Eddie parking lot since his only storyline was Chris, who was not on screen. 8x5 was great but Eddie was involved too much here and it irks me that this is as much due to the fact that Tim has nothing else to do for him as it is blatant Buddie baiting. Like, find something to do for Eddie that does not involve Buck or get rid of the character if it is to hard? Eddie has issues with his son? Why is the only person he talks about that with Buck? Buck is the only person on the team without kids. Tim could have involved him more with Chim and Hen or Bobby, even Ryan says he´d like to have more scenes with Kenny. Yet, Tim doesn´t. It´s a shame really but after 7 seasons of failing to properly integrate a character he insists on keeping on the show, I´m over it. Eddie could leave and it would not change a thing in the show or the ratings. It would only disrupt the THAT fandom and maybe that is all Tim really cares about.

It’s only a theory of course that Eddie is disconnected like that because of the JLH love interest situation (and to be clear I don’t blame her for anything, Maddie and Chimney are cute together and Chim deserves this so much), but it does make sense.

Maddie was brought to LA and was going to have two close contacts, her brother and her new boyfriend while said brother and boyfriend also become besties. Sounds like a good way to give Buck social contacts outside of his other three colleagues and to give both new characters a slow burn romance (a.k.a. something to do). There could’ve been a lot of moments where two of them talk about the respective third: The siblings gossiping about Maddie’s crush, Eddie going to Buck for advice on how to “woo” Maddie, Maddie worrying about her little brother and Eddie reassuring her he’ll check in on him – stuff like that.

The trio might still have felt a little disconnected from the other characters, but they still would’ve formed their own trio which is basically half the main cast. I’m not sure what they would’ve done with Chimney in the long run, he and Bobby had a close friendship in season 1 though, he had Hen, the Albert story line still could’ve happened, etc.

The plans changed though and for most characters this didn’t make much of a difference. Maddie still had two main contacts, her brother and new boyfriend. Buck still got more of a social life, his sister and a best friend. Chimney was still an integral part of the firefam, he just also had a girlfriend on top of that. The only person who was really affected by this change of plans was Eddie because he was also supposed to have two close contacts in the firefam, but now he only had one: Buck.

Over time they could’ve changed this. Like okay, so Buck and Eddie got on like a house on fire after one shift together, but they still could’ve built up the other friendships over the seasons. They kept Eddie separate though, focused on his role as a father, his relationships to minor characters and I don’t really understand why.

Because now they have a huge problem. The only main character Eddie has a close enough connection to that it makes sense to regularly involve him in Eddie’s story lines is Buck and this is holding both of them back. Yes, their friendship is special. So is Hen’s and Chim’s, they still manage to have lives outside of that friendship. They have wives and kids and other friends. Eddie will never grow closer to the other characters if he always runs to Buck instead. Buck will never get the permanent love interest he so desperately wants as long as they need him to be Eddie’s partner. If Buck was happy and fulfilled and found his person tm then of course Eddie would still be his best friend, but that friendship would have to make room for Buck’s love interest. There’s only so much screen time in a season.

Previously they often had Eddie and Buck date or be single at the same time to solve this, but in season 8a they tried to both give Buck a happy relationship and involve single Eddie and it felt so strange. It’s cute that Tommy and Eddie were friends too, but I wish they didn’t try to mix both for every scene. Give us one scene of Tommy and Eddie hanging out and put the Bucktommy romance in a different scene. Having all three of them in scenes that should’ve focused on one or the other was distracting at best.

(Maybe this is connected to the “competition” thing, but tbh I don’t think the writers planned this far. They just had to keep Eddie busy with something after Christopher left and the side characters like Carla and Pepa were all but cut from the show.)

At least they have stopped baiting the Buddies? I know a lot of fans still scream “queer baiting” or are somehow convinced that the show is strongly hinting at “Buddie canon soon” (Like, which is it? Are they baiting you or is Buddie going canon? It can’t be both.), but uhm. Buck has said he is not in love with Eddie in a line so pointed the show might as well have directed it at the shippers directly. Eddie has confirmed he is straight. Several people have talked about how they don’t want to do this story where the queer guy hopelessly falls for the unavailable best friend, they’d rather portray a healthy friendship between a bisexual man and a straight man. Ryan Guzman has talked about toxic masculinity and how he wants Eddie to have a softer, more vulnerable side without it meaning he’s weak or feminine or gay. Aisha Hinds said the scene from her episode was them closing the door on Buddie, not opening it. At this point the shippers are baiting themselves.

To come back to the main point: Yes, this might very well have started with Eddie having only Buck as a fixed point in the show instead of also being Maddie’s love interest. But that was at the beginning of season 2, how have they not fixed any of this six and a half years later?