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whore4wroetoshaw · 3 days ago

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pillowtalk (w2s x reader)

warnings: smut smut smut

the video.

you loved your boyfriend. he was it for you. and not in the fleeting, butterfly way. not a crush that faded when things got difficult. no—he was the one you could scream at and argue with and then fall asleep tangled in the same sheet an hour later. the one who knew exactly how you liked your tea, exactly how to get under your skin, and exactly how to worship every inch of your body like it was the only language he spoke.

and oh, my god. he was the best sex you'd ever had. hands down. absolutely zero contest. you’d look at him and think he was very vanilla, but the way he fucked you? slow, deep, possesive—like he was trying to carve his name into your bones and remind you exactly who you belonged to. it made you feral.

so when he asked you—on camera, during a truth or drink sidemen video, the prick—“have you ever faked an orgasm with me?” and you didn’t say no like he expected you to… you picked up your shot of tequila, knocked it back, and put the glass down like you were putting a final nail in a coffin.

trust, he was good at pleasing you. the things he could do with his tongue... jesus. the man was skilled. it was just that one time. to be honest, it wasn't even his fault. you were just tired, your head wasn't in it, and you just didn't want him to feel bad. so, you faked a few shaky breaths, moaned out his name, and smiled through the guilt. and that was it. one time. forgotten.

"it was just that one time—i wasn't in the mood, y'know? stop laughing, jj." you tried to surpress your giggles because of the look on harry's face.

you thought that was the end of it. one shot. one simple, honest answer. the boys were already laughing and moving on—ethan reading the next question with a shit-eating grin, jj still laughing like he usually did.

but harry?

harry was staring. he didn't laugh. didn't even crack a smile. he sat back, eyebrows slightly raised, lips twitching like he was trying to solve a maths problem. his whole expression unreadable. way too quiet for harry.

the rest of the video felt long. every time he laughed, every time he smiled or chimed in, you could feel the weight of his attention still hanging off you. he didn’t say much after that, just finished the game with a casual shrug, fingers drumming on the table.

the car ride.

it was so fucking quiet. not in an awkward way. no tension between you as people—you were fine. it was fine.

but it was so quiet.

harry's eyes were on the road, hand steady on the wheel. the only sounds were the low hum of the engine, and the occasional turn signal.

but you could feel him.

feel his gaze flicker over to you at red lights. feel the way his fingers tapped restlessly against the steering wheel. feel the heat simmering between you, hotter by the second.

so, you broke the silence. "what's going on in that pretty head of yours, hm? you're awfully quiet."

his knuckles tightened on the wheel. "hm? nothing. just... thinking."

"about what?" you turned your knees slightly towards him, now looking at his absolutely flawless side profile.

"you know what." his jaw clenched, a small smirk on his face.

you rolled your eyes. "haz, you're still on that? it was just a game. i don't even remember when it happ—"

he didn't look at you. "i'm just trying to figure out how i missed it."

"babe, come on. it was years ago, harry. you didn't do anything wrong. it wasn't about you. i swear." you laughed, reaching over to rub his knee as reassurement.

he looked down, and then up again. after a few moments of silence, he spoke, his voice lower. "i don't want you to feel like you have to perform with me."

"baby. it was one time. it's so insignificant that i don't even remember when it happened." you leaned over and brushed a soft kiss on his cheek.

after you reached home.

the front door clicked shut behind you with a soft thud, and that was it. the match dropped.

he didn’t speak. just watched as you kicked off your shoes and turned toward him, still trying to act normal—casual—like your heart wasn’t hammering in your chest.

you opened your mouth to say something—

but he was on you.

mouth crashing to yours, hands gripping your waist hard enough to bruise. you stumbled back into the wall with a thud, gasping against his lips, his body crowding yours, warm and solid and desperate.

"fuckin' hell, y/n," he muttered against your mouth, kissing you like he was trying to devour your soul. "i'm losing my fucking mind."

“didn’t think you’d spiral this hard,” you breathed.

his hand curled around your jaw, thumb dragging across your bottom lip. "i’ve been replaying every sound you’ve made with me in my head. every fucking moan. every breath. trying to figure out which one was a lie.” his voice dropped. “you realise how mental that is?”

you swallowed, chest rising and falling fast.

he tilted your chin up. “so now i’m gonna make sure there’s no confusion.”

before you could even react, his hands reached the back of your thighs, and he picked you up in a go. a gasp slipped from your lips as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, the pressure of his hard-on pressing firmly against your core through the thin barrier of your clothes. the contact drew a soft whimper from your throat—needy and unfiltered.

harry smirked against your skin. "that all for me, love?" he murmured, his voice rough as his mouth found your neck for the millionth time.

you just whined in response and grabbed his hair, latching your lips onto his again. he chuckled lowly, and carried you to the bedroom door, throwing it open.

he kicked the door shut behind him with a thud that echoed, not that either of you noticed—too lost in the haze of each other, barely making it two steps before tossing you onto the mattress like you weighed nothing. you bounced once, breath catching as you pushed yourself up on your elbows.

he climbed on top of you, hovering for a moment as he tried to take in your presence, his fingers trailing under the hem of your top.

that's it. you couldn't take it anymore.

"goddamn it, harry." you surged up and yanked his shirt over his head in one go, fingers fumbling in your haste, lips catching his halfway through. it was teeth and tongue and heat, and all of it tinged with frustration.

"a little bit impatient there, huh?" he laughed as he tugged your top over your head and tossed it somewhere behind him, already reaching for your jeans.

“can you blame me?” you huffed, breath shaky as you wriggled out of them, your hands everywhere—his neck, his shoulders, everywhere. "you've been staring at me with bedroom eyes all day long, bruv."

harry laughed under his breath—low and rough—as he popped the button of your jeans and slid them down—along with your underwear— in one swift movement, eyes trailing down the length of you like he hadn’t seen you naked a thousand times before.

you bit your lip, cheeks flushed, eyes flickering down for a moment before dragging back up to meet his. your hands moved slowly to his belt, fingers slipping beneath the leather and tugging with careful urgency—like you couldn’t bear another second but also wanted to savour it.

you pulled it free in one smooth motion, letting it drop off the side of the bed with a soft thud. your fingers didn’t falter—next came the button of his jeans, the slow drag of the zip. you felt him twitch beneath your touch, felt the tension ripple through his abdomen.

“you’re killing me, babe,” he muttered, voice low, reverent, as he watched your hands work.

“good,” you whispered, slipping your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and sliding everything down in one go. he kicked them off without looking, never taking his eyes off you.

there he was: all of him, exposed to you, his cock thick and flushed, already dripping with need. your breath hitched in your throat, eyes tracing over every inch of him. the way his muscles tightened under his skin, the deep v of his hips leading to his hard length. It was almost too much.

you reached out, wrapping your fingers around his cock, feeling the heat of him in your hand. you could feel the veins throbbing beneath your touch, his length heavy and solid in your palm. "please fuck me," you whimpered.

he let out a ragged breath, his hands immediately grabbing at your legs, pulling you to him as he knelt between your thighs. and just like that, he leaned forward, pushing your legs apart as he aligned himself with your entrance. his eyes flickered to yours, a silent question. you nodded, breathless, barely able to form a sentence.

harry didn’t need another word. he sank into you in one deliberate thrust, his cock filling you, stretching you in the best possible way. you gasped at the sensation, your back arching off the bed, and he groaned in response, his hand sliding to your hip to hold you in place.

jesus, even after years of being together, you were still caught off guard by his size every single time. “god,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, as he stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to him. “you feel fucking perfect.”

harry didn’t waste another moment. he withdrew slightly, then slammed back into you with force, making you gasp as your body jolted from the impact. his pace was immediate, fast, relentless—he wasn’t holding back. every thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

you moaned out his name as your hands scrambled for purchase on his back, digging your nails into his skin. you gasped as you tried to meet each of his thrusts, your body working in perfect sync with his. there was no gentleness in this; there didn’t need to be. after all these years, neither of you held back anymore.

he gripped your legs tighter, pushing them up and apart to get even deeper, his hips snapping against yours with brutal force. every thrust hit you at the perfect angle, his cock filling you so completely that you could barely breathe. "oh my god, harry!"

you gasped, hips bucking as the familiar pressure started to build again in your core. the pace didn’t slow—if anything, harry pushed harder, faster, making sure you didn’t have time to catch your breath. his hands were everywhere—on your hips, your chest, your throat—as he fucked you like he owned you.

you felt your orgasm rise up, sudden and overwhelming. the sensation spread through every inch of you, every nerve firing at once as you came hard around him, screaming his name as you tightened around his cock. your whole body trembled, the force of it making your vision blur for a moment.

but harry didn’t stop. he was relentless, chasing his own high now, his pace never wavering as he fucked you through your orgasm. the tension was unbearable, and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he thrust into you with a final, deep stroke, groaning your name as he came hard inside you, his release spilling deep, filling you completely.

you both collapsed in the aftershocks of your highs, your body limp and trembling beneath him, as he kissed your neck, his breath ragged.

"oh my god," you heaved, recovering from your orgasm. "oh love, we're not done."

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snow-snowball · 2 days ago

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⭑.ᐟ Wink! ⭑.ᐟ

you wink at him ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

characters: Sylus, Caleb, Zayne, Xavier, Rafayel.

a/n: English is not my first language, so I apologise for my mistakes. Dividers belongs to @enchanthings

warnings: fem!Y/N, headcanons, LMAO with Xavier, +18 hints

Sylus:

• He was cleaning his weapon when you suddenly burst into his room. Nah, sweetie, Sylus wasn't startled because he sensed your presence. Raising his eyes to meet yours, he arched an eyebrow in question.

• “Kitten, what's up?”

• “Nothin',” you replied, plopping down on the couch next to him. It hit him that you had barged into his life in the same way and you were still with him. Lost in thought, he couldn't help but smile.

• “Hey, Sylus, check this out!” You turned his face towards you and winked at him a few times.

• “Whoa, can you cross your eyes on purpose? Or is that some kind of medical condition?” the man teased, watching your face turn red with annoyance. He totally loves to wind you up. You nudged him in the shoulder and were about to leave, but he pulled you onto his lap, hugging you tightly and kissing your shoulder. “Sorry, didn't mean to get under your skin, it's just... you're even more like a kitten when you're mad.”

Caleb:

• You and Caleb were baking an apple pie together, using your signature recipe.

• Caleb tried to help, but he was more of a distraction, peppering your neck with passionate kisses. “Caleb! Go to the living room, pronto!”

• “But, Y/N...”

• “I said living room. Now.” At your words, he lowered his head and shuffled off. Exhaling, you finally got back to your task.

• After a while, the pie was ready. Its aroma wafted through the apartment. Caleb's head popped out from around the corner, looking at you sheepishly.

• “Oh, look who's here, drawn in by the scent! Isn't it Mr. 'I Love to Hinder'?” You looked at him and chuckled at his bewildered expression. Winking at him, you gestured for him to come to the table.

• Caleb was instantly by your side, hands reaching for a slice of pie you had just cut. “Speaking of which, you winked at me. Does that... mean something, or...?” he asked, mouth full, playfully wiggling his eyebrows.

• “I'm being flirted with by a hamster, oh my god.”

• “I'm not a hamster!”

Zayne:

• Zayne was examining yet another patient when you suddenly materialized in his field of vision: a stunning blue dress that accentuated your figure, perfectly styled hair, delicate jewelry, and subtle makeup. You were radiant. The doctor couldn't help but let his gaze linger on you, and you, with a playful smirk, winked at him. The patient, however, decided to bring him back down to earth. “Dr. Zayne, so, what's the diagnosis?”

• “Everything's fine. I'll be right back and we'll continue,” Zayne said, his eyes already following you as he made his way out.

• “Doctor, but...!” the patient protested, his words falling on deaf ears.

• “Why are you here and looking so... dolled up?” the doctor asked, loosening his tie slightly, trying to swallow the sudden knot of nerves in his throat.

• “Oh, Dr. Zayne, could it be that you've forgotten about our date? How naughty of you,” you said in a teasing tone, tugging him closer by his tie. “I'll wait for you, Doctor, but keep in mind that you'll have to pay dearly for this oversight.” You left a print of your ruby red lipstick on his cheek and, with another wink, settled onto the waiting room sofa. Well, Zayne suddenly had all the motivation he needed to wrap things up quickly and make it up to you in spades on your date.

Xavier:

• You were dispatched on yet another mission to eliminate a Wanderers.

• And here you were, hunkered down in the bushes, trying to come up with a solid plan. The Wanderer you’d stumbled upon was no pushover.

• You pointed at it, then in the opposite direction, and winked. He just stared at you quizzically before giving a hesitant nod.

• “Xavier! What the hell?!” you exclaimed as the one-eyed Wanderer grabbed you.

• “You’re the one who told me to aim for the right eye.” Your partner quickly chopped off the Wanderer's arm and caught you mid-air.

• “I just winked!”

• “Gotta be more specific, dear.”

Rafayel:

• As you strolled through the city, a distant melody drifted towards you. Grabbing Rafayel’s hand tightly, you dashed towards the sound.

• “Where are we going?!” he exclaimed, slightly bewildered.

• “You’ll see!” you chirped, winking playfully at your boyfriend.

• “Whoa, I thought I was boring you and you were about to off me.” he chuckled, half-joking.

• Finally, you reached a group of street musicians. Their music was a rollercoaster, shifting from upbeat and lively to melancholic and slow. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you turned to Rafayel. “Sir, care for a dance?” you asked, giving him a flirty wink. For a fleeting moment, his heart skipped a beat. In that instant, you were so… genuinely radiant: adorned in a breezy summer dress, a cute sunhat, and your hair tousled by the gentle breeze. “With the greatest pleasure, my muse,” he replied, his voice filled with warmth."

Love you all! Take care of yourselves and be happy!

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dckweed · 2 days ago

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tiktok made me do it gf! vs tf 141 bf

Your boyfriend gets cocky and agrees to try one of those period cramp simulators with you. Except what he doesn’t expect is for you to be completely unbothered. Chill. Unflinching. Meanwhile, he’s gasping like he’s been shot. And the longer it goes on, the more he realizes: this is your normal.

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE — “Do I look like a man who taps out at level five?”

It started as a joke.

You were in one of your chaotic TikTok moods—messy bun, oversized hoodie, devious little grin—and John should’ve known something was up when you said, “Baaaaaabe… you love me, right?” while setting up the simulator on the coffee table.

“Not a chance in hell,” he said immediately.

You pouted. You begged. You reminded him of that time you made him a steak dinner and didn’t film him falling asleep mid-bite like a Victorian grandfather. He sighed. “Fine.”

You strap the simulator to both your stomachs, grinning like the demon you are. He glances at the controller like it’s a live grenade.

“Ready?” you ask sweetly.

He nods, all masculine pride.

Level 1: Nothing.

Level 2: Still nothing.

John smirks. “S’not bad.”

Level 3: He shifts in his seat. “Alright. Bit of tension.”

You’re completely chill, sipping your iced coffee.

Level 4: His eyebrow twitches.

Level 5: He lets out a grunt. “Okay. Now it’s… yeah, alright, it’s uncomfortable.”

You glance at him. “You wanna stop?”

He glares. “Do I look like a man who taps out at level five?”

Level 6 hits and he flinches hard. “Bloody—fuckin’ hell, that’s not tension anymore, that’s a punch.”

You’re still sitting pretty, scrolling on your phone.

Level 7.

He jolts. Actually jolts.

“Jesus CHRIST—" He’s gripping the edge of the couch, sweat beading at his temple. “What the hell is wrong with this machine?”

You: “That’s my Monday morning, babe.”

Level 8.

He growls. Growls, like he’s in a firefight. One eye closed. Breathing through his teeth. “How are you—how the fuck are you still—talking?”

You shrug, smirking at him a little bit. It was oddly satisfying watching your big strong man experience the things he and most of society brushed off as normal pain that you and billions of other women were forced to continue to live life through without acting like it bothered you. “I usually get nauseous around this point. Sometimes I puke.”

He blinks. Stares at you like you just told him you walk on glass every day for fun.

Level 9.

He rips the strap off. Rips it off. Slams it on the coffee table and stands, breathing heavy like he just ran a 5K.

You're really not shocked. “That’s your limit?”

He looks at you. Then slowly sits back down beside you, rubbing his hand over his mouth.

“You go through that. Every month?”

You nod. Shrug.

He just stares for a second.

Then leans over, presses his forehead to your shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

You kiss his head. “It’s okay. Now go fold the laundry while I bleed in silence.”

He does.

With extra snacks.

KYLE 'GAZ' GARRICK — “i'm seeing god, she's mad at me.”

Kyle thinks he’s tough.

He’s run half-marathons. Rucked uphill with a 70lb pack. Taken hits in training and grinned through them.

So when you say “Let’s do the period cramp simulator,” he laughs. Laughs.

“Easy win, babe. Let’s see what all the fuss is about.”

You just smile, quietly connecting the pads to his lower abs, and flip on the app. You’re both in sweats on the couch, your phone filming the whole thing. You press start.

Level 1: He shrugs. “Tingles. Cute.”

Level 2: “Okay, it’s a little weird.”

Level 3: He winces. “Bit stabby.”

Level 4: He clutches the throw pillow. “Okay—wow. That’s... that’s actually rough.”

You’re beside him, not even blinking, watching the show.

Level 5: He yelps. “Wait. People live like this? On purpose?”

You: “Not by choice, babe.”

Level 6: His eyes widen.

Kyle: “Oh my god. It’s like a cramp. Inside a cramp. And it’s angry.”

Level 7: “BABE I’M GONNA PUKE.”

You laugh a bit. “That’s normal.”

Level 8: He keels over sideways, curled on the couch, gasping.

Kyle: “I’m going to pass out. I think I’m hemorrhaging.”

You arch a brow at him. “Want me to go up another level?” You wiggle your eyebrows, teasing him.

He doesn’t respond. He just lifts a single finger like he’s drawing his final breath.

Level 9: He rolls off the couch entirely and lays on the carpet.

“I’m seeing God. She’s mad at me.”

You turn it off, having a good giggle to yourself as you watch him. "You okay down there baby?"

Kyle lays there a minute.

Then, very quietly asks “...You go through that every month?”

You nod. “Since I was thirteen.”

He blinks. Looks at the ceiling. Then at you.

“I don’t know if I wanna fight you or hug you.”

You: “Why not both?”

He crawls back onto the couch, pulls you into his arms, and whispers, “I’m buying you a heating pad and a Costco pack of chocolate tomorrow. I swear to God.”

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY — “That's internal combustion.”

Simon sits down like it’s nothing.

“You sure?” you ask, raising a brow.

He scoffs. “How bad can it be?”

He’s seen combat. Been tortured. He thinks he’s built different.

Level 1: “Huh. Feels like static.”

Level 2: “Bit annoying. Like pins and needles.”

Level 3: “Okay, bit of a pinch.”

Level 4: “...Starting to think this is a trap.”

You’re relaxed beside him, arms folded.

Level 5: His leg twitches.

Simon: “Did the setting change?”

“Mmhmm.” You munch on a cracker from the small bowl sitting next to the couch.

Level 6: “What the fuck was that? That’s not a cramp. That’s a curse.”

Level 7: He sits up straighter. “Nope. Nope. That’s internal combustion. That’s demons.”

You, sipping water respond calmly. “That’s ovulation cramps combined with regular ones.”

Simon looks at you like you’ve been suffering war crimes in silence.

Level 8: He rips the velcro off and tosses the simulator like it insulted his mother.

“Turn it off. We’re done. That’s it.”

You almost laugh. “Tapping out, pookie?”

He stares. Hard.

Then his voice drops low.

“You go through that. Every month. And still do everything.”

You nod slowly.

Simon doesn’t speak. He just walks out of the room.

When he returns, he has a blanket, painkillers, and a hot water bottle.

Then he pulls you into his lap and wraps you up.

“You ever need anything—anything—you tell me. No questions.”

JOHNNY 'SOAP' MACTAVISH — “That's a dragonslaying cramp!’”

Johnny’s too confident.

“Piece o’ piss, lass,” he says, strapping the pads on. “I’ve dislocated my shoulder before, can't be any different. I’ll be fine.”

You smile sweetly. “Ready?”

“Bring it.”

Level 1: “Tickles.”

Level 2: “Okay. Weird. But nothing wild.”

Level 3: “That was a twitch. Did it twitch? Or was that me?”

Level 4: “Aight. This is... it’s makin’ my leg bounce.”

Level 5: “HOLY HELL.”

You watch him start shifting like a toddler who has to pee.

Level 6: “SWEET FUCKIN’—WHAT IS THAT?!”

You’re laughing. He’s grabbing your hand.

Level 7: “That’s not even funny anymore, babe. That’s a dragonslaying cramp.”

You: “It lasts 6–8 hours, minimum.”

He stops. Eyes wide.

Level 8: He’s wheezing, clutching his stomach like he’s giving birth.

“I—can’t—I need—a priest.”

You turn it off.

He flops sideways, panting.

Then lifts his head, looking at you like he just saw an angel of death.

“You deal with that every month?”

You nod.

He stares.

Then bursts into a fresh round of whining. “I AM SO SORRY. I’M BUYING YOU FLOWERS. I’M BUYING YOU A NEW CAR. I’M—I’M NEVER ASKING FOR SEX AGAIN IF YOU’RE ON YOUR PERIOD I SWEAR.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “You said that last month.” You take yours off too. "I'll take you up on that new car offer if period sex can still be on the table..helps sometimes, with the cramps.."

He whimpers.

Then crawls across the couch and kisses your stomach gently like an apology to your uterus.

“Yer a fuckin’ warrior. My warrior.”

You forgive him for all the times he's dismissed your pains before, or asked why you hadn't put on real clothes, or why you were crying when nothing happened to make you cry..

But only after he does your chores for a week and buys you that new car like he said.

MORAL OF THE STORY:

your big bad bf is just as easily taken out by cramps as you and the rest of vagina owners everywhere have been. you feel bad, but only a little.

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crowsofdarkness · 2 days ago

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Today's lesson with Bucky: Handjobs.

part three to the "teach me" series.

part one | part two |

a/n: i'm not entirely sure how long this series will be. at first, it was just a few fun little smutty blurbs but I'm thinking of adding more depth to it and making it a full series. i will eventually make a master list for this as well so all parts are in one place.

18+ cw's below the cut(handjobs and mentions of cumshots)

“What do you want me to do with it?” I asked, kneeling on the bed next to Bucky.

He let out a low chuckle before resting an arm behind his head and motioned to between his legs. “Grab it.”

I blinked at him with a slack jaw as I did whatever I could not to follow his gaze.

“You want me to just grab it?”

Bucky went to nod but held back for a moment, assessing me with those dark eyes. “Grab what, Y/N?

“Uh,” I shifted on the bed, still not looking at it. “Your penis.”

“Oh my god,” he rolled his eyes playfully and sat up straighter in bed. “Say cock.”

I shook my head. “Penis works fine.”

“You really want me to say be a good girl and take this penis?” Bucky questioned with a raised brow.

Immediately, my face contorted in disgust when I realized that he was right. I did not like how that sounded.

“That’s what I thought,” he leaned forward to cup my cheek, forcing my eyes to look down. “Now be a good girl and grab my cock.”

I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat before finally seeing his cock, nearly sputtering on my words. It was long and thick, with a vein running along the shaft and all the way around. There was a bit of wetness at the head and my mouth salivated at the sight. I’ve seen a penis before but Bucky’s undoubtedly was the prettiest one.

He wanted to be completely naked but I wasn’t comfortable with that yet so instead, Bucky pulled out his penis from his pants.

For the love of the Gods, say dick.

“So, I just touch it?” I asked.

Noticing my nerves, Bucky gently reached for my hand to place it on top of his dick, it twitching under my palm. I marveled for a second about how soft it was and let my fingers drag up and down. When he shivered underneath my touch, I reared my hand back afraid I was hurting Bucky but he was quick to place it back.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. You can’t hurt me,” he reassured me.

He then spent the next minute or so showing me what to do, guiding my hand over his dick with his own hand. He showed me where to pump, where to drag, and where to squeeze. Bucky even gave me pointers on how to twist my wrist in a way that he loves.

“You sure know what feels good,” I joked.

He shrugged. “Years of practice.”

My brows furrowed in confusion, trying to understand what he meant.

Oh.

Clearing my throat, I adjusted my position on the bed so I could kneel between Bucky’s open legs and began twisting my wrist in a circular motion while squeezing his dick. His head fell back against the wall behind his bed letting out a soft moan, his eyelids fluttering shut.

“Is it-good?”

I couldn’t help the way I hesitated, unsure of how I would feel if he said no.

“You’re doing so well, baby. Just like that,” Bucky praised, bucking his hips up into my hand.

I let the feeling of heat fuel me as I began to focus more on my actions, realizing what pulls and squeezes brought out the moans. Almost quickly, I could tell that he preferred it when I rubbed my thumb underneath the tip because he would arch himself away from the headboard and grip at the sheets of the bed. Before we started, Bucky mentioned that he wouldn't touch me because he didn’t want it to interfere in what I was doing. He wanted my sole attention to be on his dick.

And it definitely was.

Slowly, I licked my lips when I noticed the sparkle of precum gathering at the tip and more than anything, I wanted to taste it.

“Not yet, baby. Soon, I promise,” Bucky’s tender voice broke through the lust filled cloud that surrounded us.

Soon? Would oral be our next lesson?

I squeezed my thighs together, trying to stop the burn I felt. How was I getting so turned on while bringing pleasure to Bucky?

“Fuck,” he choked on a breath when I picked up my pace, squeezing higher up on his dick. “Right there, don’t stop.”

I didn’t. In fact, I went faster bringing forth more moans from Bucky and the sweat from my palm mixed with his precum, making everything a wet mess. I wanted more, I needed him to spill into my hand so I could smear it all over my lips, groaning in delicious delight.

Yet, my desires were quickly pulled from me when Bucky removed my hand from his dick and placed it against his chest. I was too sad to notice how fast his heart was beating.

“Did I do something wrong?” I questioned, tears brimming in the corners of my eyes.

Bucky was breathing heavily as he gave me a warm smile. “You were amazing, Y/N. But I don’t want to rush anything. The feeling of cum can be a weird texture for some people, I want to make sure you’re comfortable with it first.”

As heartbroken as I was, I was also thankful Bucky thought of that because truthfully I didn’t know how I would like the feeling of his cum in my hand.

“So, now what?”

My voice was meek as I watched him tuck his still hard dick into his pants and sighed.

“You are going to go back to your room and watch videos of cum shots,” Bucky explained.

“Cum shots?” I asked with confusion.

“You’re so fucking adorable with how innocent you are,” Bucky dragged a vibranium thumb over my bottom lip and I quietly moaned at the action.

“It’s our next lesson and I want you to be prepared for it,” he continued, rolling out of bed. “Meet back here at the same time tomorrow.”

“Where are you going?”

Bucky pointed to his dick then to the bathroom that was attached to his room. “I need to take care of something.

“Take care-?”

Oh.

“Don’t let me keep you,” I murmured, scurrying out of Bucky’s room with crimson cheeks.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes and reader #marvel #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #james barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes blurbs #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x yn #james barnes smut #james buchanan barnes smut #teach me bucky barnes

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kuronarnze · 2 days ago

Note

Hi!! I'm the Kurona fan that asked for the ‘cuteness aggression’ fic and I'm back again to ask for another!!! I LOVE reading it and often keep re-reading it for fun, amazing work <3

May I request another fic with Kurona (obviously), Sae and Isagi (and anyone you wanna do, dunno what the character list is but if you have Loki or Charles that would be great too! If not that's fine as well ^^)) with a s/o that made a plushie of them and themselves? Like those cute skrunkly guys (Im so desperate for a Kurona version).

Cute scenario could be that the reader gives a mini plush of themselves to keep so they can remember them while they're away or/and the reader makes the two plushies kiss and tease them by roleplaying(? Like pretending to be the two plush and making them act lovey dovey) and stuff (would be me).

Take your time! Again, loved the previous fics, keep up the good work! Hopefully you won't mind be asking for more in the future ^^,

-🦈⭐

a/n: hihi anonn! Omg thank you sososo much !! And also tysm for requesting again, feel free to request more !! This idea is sooo cutee, enjoy !!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Mini you & mini me

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Kurona Ranze

You placed the tiny pink-haired plush in Kurona’s hands. It had his shark hoodie, soft little eyes, and even his drowsy little smile.

His face lit up, pink in his cheeks. “Shark. Me?”

You pulled out the second plush, a mini version of you, and dramatically made the two plushies face each other.

“Ranze, I missed you so much!” you squeaked in a high voice, bouncing the mini you.

Kurona blinked, then smiled. “Missed you too, too.”

Pause.

He softly bumped his plushie against yours. “Kiss, kiss.”

You gasped. “Kurona!”

He looked entirely serious. “That’s what they’d do, they'd do.”

Your heart exploded. Skrunkly plushie supremacy.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Itoshi Sae

You handed him the plushie with a grin. “Ta-da! Mini Sae.”

He blinked. “…You made this?”

“Mhm! And this is mini me.” You held up your own plush. “Now you’ll never be alone in Spain~”

“…Hmph.” He examined the doll. “It’s actually good.”

Then, you made the plushies face each other.

“Mini Sae, do you love me?”

“…No.” you replied in a mock-deep voice.

“Too bad! smooch!” You shoved them together dramatically.

Sae looked at you, deadpan. “Are you twelve.”

You wiggled your plush. “Mini me thinks you’re a tsundere.”

His ears turned red. He kept the plush on his bed.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Isagi Yoichi

“YOICHI, GUESS WHAT I MADE!”

You launched a plush at him. It bonked him in the chest.

“Oh my god—it’s me!?” He examined it, delighted. “You even got the sprout ahoge!”

“AND THIS,” you held up yours, “is my plushie. Now behold—!” You smooshed them together. “They’re kissinggg~”

Isagi nearly dropped them. “HUH?! W-Wait—!”

“‘I love you, Yoichi!’” you cooed. “‘Let’s always be together!’”

“STOP THAT’S EMBARRASSING—!” he turned bright red, covering his face.

You smirked and made the plushies hug.

He peeked between his fingers, smiling like a lovesick puppy.

He keeps both plushies in his locker.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Charles Chevalier

You handed the plushie over. “Mon mini Charles~”

He stared at it. “Why is it so adorable. Why am I so adorable?”

“You’re welcome.”

Then you revealed yours and made them French kiss dramatically. “Mwah! Mwah! Je t’aime, mon chéri~”

He snorted. “This is a crime. You’re bullying my plush.”

“I’m romancing it.”

He immediately joined in, raising his plushie. “Non, non, I must confess—my love for you burns brighter than the Eiffel Tower at night.”

You collapsed laughing.

He definitely posts them on his story and names them Charles Jr. and Cherie.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Julian Loki

You showed him the plush and he immediately clutched it to his chest. “It’s… me?! It's so cute?!”

“It’s the lil guy version of you!”

“Best gift ever.” He gasped when you pulled out yours. “OH MY GOD. Is that—?”

You nodded. “Wanna see them kiss?”

He screamed. “DO IT.”

You smooshed them together. “They’re in love~”

“I KNEW IT,” he yelled dramatically, holding up his plush. “I, Loki, pledge my undying devotion to my squishy beloved!”

You were both crying from laughter by the end.

He brings the plush to matches. For good luck.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Reo Mikage

When you handed him the plushies, Reo blinked.

One looked exactly like him—lavender hair, chill little smile, fancy soccer uniform. The other… was you.

“I made us,” you said proudly.

Reo gently held them like they were made of glass. “…You made these?”

“Mhm. So you don’t miss me too much when I’m not around.”

His heart did a whole triple backflip. “You think I wouldn’t miss you anyway?”

You grinned and squished the plushies together. “Look—they love each other. ‘I miss you every second, Reo~’”

He chuckled, slipping into a mock-serious voice. “‘I miss you too, baby. Let’s run away with our combined net worth.’”

“REEOOO—!”

“I’m just saying,” he winked. “Mini me has excellent taste.”

He doesn’t let anyone else touch them. Ever. Keeps them on a tiny silk pillow. Buys them a doll-sized penthouse. You regret nothing.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I actually love this one smm, its super cutee !! Thank you sm for requesting anon! Have a nice day !!

Im so sorry if i made loki ooc because im pretty confused how to write him...

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meazalykov · 2 days ago

Text

shooters shoot

catarina macario x f!uswnt!reader with features of platonic!trinity rodman x f!uswnt!reader

your team at chelsea does not know that you're bold, so you take your confession to a crush to the next level

you’re sprawled across your couch in your london flat, the early morning light filtering through the blinds. it’s 6am, and your phone is propped up on a cushion, trinity’s face filling the screen.

your bestfriend's pink braids are loose, swinging as she moves around her dc apartment. it’s 11pm for her, and she’s buzzing, her energy practically vibrating through the facetime call.

you’re in a yankees hat, the brim pulled low, and a chelsea blue hoodie that’s a size too big, your go-to for these morning chats.

“y/n, i’m freaking out!” trinity says, her voice a mix of glee and disbelief. she’s pacing her living room, holding her phone so close you can see the glitter of her earrings.

“did you see that ben posted his own tiktok too? is that a hard launch? oh my god, the comments are wild and everyone won't stop blowing me up about it.”

you grin, sipping coffee from a chipped mug.

“girl, we were on call when you posted it... remember? you and ben are just out here breaking the internet.. I mean a tennis star and an espresso shot from the us women's team? of course the fans are eating it up... they love anything that involves being nosey.”

trinity laughs, flopping onto her couch.

“i didn’t think he’d go that big, you know? like, we talked about it, but then he posted that photo and then that tiktok??? i screamed, y/n. I fucking screamed!!”

you laugh, nearly spilling your coffee.

“it’s so extra but you two are cute, though. the washington spirit girls must be losing it.”

“oh, they are,” trinity says, rolling her eyes.

“croix already joked about planning a team dinner to ‘celebrate my glow-up.’ like, chill.” she pauses, then leans closer to the screen, her voice dropping.

“but, like… what do you think? about the whole public thing?”

you tilt your head, catching the shift in her tone.

“it’s bold. i mean, you and ben are solid, so it works. why? you regretting it?”

“no, no,” she says quickly, waving a hand.

“i love it. it’s just… i don’t know. it’s a lot but it feels good, you know? like, we’re out here, no hiding.” she starts pulling her braids into a ponytail, her fingers moving fast, “you ever think about doing something like that?”

you freeze with your mug halfway to your lips, “me? like, a hard launch? trin, i’d need someone to launch with first.”

trinity raises an eyebrow, tying off her ponytail.

“don’t play dumb with me, y/n. you’ve been acting all weird each camp since we came back from our injuries after the olympics... who’s got you smiling at your phone?”

your stomach flips. you set your mug down, tugging at the strings of your hoodie, “i don’t smile at my phone.”

“liar,” she says, smirking.

“spill. who is it? I know its someone we play with.”

you hesitate, glancing at the ceiling like it’ll give you an out but it’s trinity aka your best friend since you were kids, the one who knows every embarrassing story from your first uswnt camp. you sigh, leaning back into the couch.

“fine. it’s… catarina.”

trinity’s jaw drops, then she bursts out laughing, clapping her hands.

“catarina? as in catarina macario, HUHHHHH???? our teammate? your chelsea teammate? oh, that’s so obvious!”

she says that in the most sarcastic voice imaginable^

you scoff, crossing your arms.

“shut the hell up, trin.”

she’s still laughing, her head thrown back.

“im joking but no, no, it’s perfect. that shit was clearly obvious but you’re just out here crushing on cat, and it’s written all over your face. I'm fucking dying.”

“you’re the worst,” you mutter, but you’re smiling.

“it’s not that serious though. i just… like her. a lot.”

trinity wipes her eyes, calming down.

“okay, but real talk? you should do what me and ben did. post something cute, tag her, make it official.”

you shake your head, your heart racing at the thought.

“trin, you and ben were already together when you did that. i can’t just… shoot my shot like that. what if it freaks her out?”

trinity leans forward, her face serious now.

“can i tell you something, you have to promise to not tell anyone?”

you narrow your eyes.

“sure.”

she takes a deep breath, like she’s about to drop a bomb.

“last camp catarina was talking to lily, alyssa, lindsey, and sonnet and… she admitted she likes you.”

your brain short-circuits.

“what?”

“yep,” trinity says, nodding.

“she was all shy about it, but she told them she’s into you after lily questioned her about it... like, for real.”

you sit up, your hat nearly falling off.

“trin, if you’re lying, I'm booking a flight to dulles airport and killing you.”

“i’m not lying!” she says, holding up her hands.

“I swear on my spirit contract.”

you stare at her, your mind spinning. catarina likes you? catarina, with her quiet confidence and her laugh that makes your chest feel tight?

you swallow hard, trying to process, “okay… fine. maybe i’ll do it.”

trinity’s eyes light up, “the tiktok trend I did? the ‘shooters shoot’ one?”

you nod, already feeling the nerves.

“yeah. it’s funny, and… i don’t know. it’s less scary since you know I fuck with humor.”

“i can’t wait,” trinity says, grinning.

“you’re gonna shock everyone with that shit!”

later that day, you’re back on your couch, your phone in hand. you’ve got the tiktok app open, the audio already picked: “they say shooters shoot… ah huh… duke dennis, what’s up with you?”

it’s a vibe, catchy and bold, perfect for what you’re about to do. you’re still in your yankees hat and chelsea hoodie, the outfit feeling like armor.

you take a deep breath, hit record, and let the audio play.

on the screen, you keep it simple. just text and no full name that shows you're talking about your chelsea teammate.

“-------- -------, what’s up with you?”

you count the dashes carefully with catarina’s first and last name, without actually typing it. you post it before you can overthink, your heart pounding as the video goes live.

within minutes, your notifications explode.

your tiktok is no stranger to attention since you post a lot, from training clips to goofy dances with trinity or other teammates like alyssa back home and mille from chelsea.

however, you see that fans are losing it, speculating in the comments.

“who’s the mystery girl?”

“y/n’s shooting her shot what the hell???!”

"trinity got her to do ts I bet"

“those dashes… wait a minute!”

you scroll through, your cheeks burning. some uswnt teammates are in on it too.

tara comments, “oh, we know 👀.”

giselle drops a fire emoji and even some chelsea girls are chiming in.

you’re equal parts thrilled and terrified.

the next country over from you in england... lily, chilling in the netherlands, sees the tiktok and immediately sends it to catarina with a single smirk emoji.

catarina watches it, her lips curling into a smile. she laughs, her cheeks flushing.

“wha-what? that is crazy,”

she mutters to herself, but she can’t stop watching it.

the next day, you’re at chelsea’s training facility, and the locker room is a minefield.

you walk in, head down, knowing exactly what’s coming.

catarina’s already there, sitting on the bench next to your spot, lacing up her boots. you glance at her, and she smiles...soft, but with a spark that makes your stomach flip.

“well, well, well,” sam says, striding in with a grin.

“look at tiktok star y/n, shooting her shot.”

you groan, tossing your bag into your locker.

“can you not?”

“nope,” sam says, popping the ‘p.’

“you’re famous now. that video already reached nearly 200 thousand likes and everybody is dropping every athletes name in the book to figure out who you're talking about... iconic.”

lucy joins in, leaning against the lockers.

“ona sent me the video and i’m just saying, y/n, those dashes were very specific.”

you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling.

“y’all are annoying.”

catarina’s quiet, but you catch her glancing at you, her smile growing and you smile back at her with a sparkler in your eyes.

sam notices and gags dramatically, “oh my god, you two are so gay.”

you turn to sam raising an eyebrow, “says the woman whose american fiancé is pregnant with your kid. who’s also my godson, by the way. maybe we’re all just gay in here!”

the room erupts in laughter.

millie, ever the straight ally, shakes her head, “not me.”

you smirk, “you look gay, though.”

millie cackles pointing at you, “fair, but don’t change the subject. that tiktok was about catarina, wasn’t it?”

you don’t deny it, just shrug, your cheeks burning.

catarina’s still next to you, and you feel her shoulder brush yours.

it’s enough to make your heart skip.

after training, you’re walking to the parking lot when catarina catches up to you.

“hey,” she says, her voice soft but teasing.

“can i get a ride?”

“yeah, of course,” you say, trying to play it cool despite the butterflies in your chest. you unlock your car, and she slides into the passenger seat.

as you drive, the silence is comfortable, but you can feel her watching you. finally, she speaks.

“so… that tiktok. was it really about me?”

you grip the steering wheel, your face hot.

“yeah. i mean… i didn’t want to, like, freak you out but yeah. trinity thought it would be funny and I know humor is kinda like our thing so...”

she laughs, and it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard.

“damn you pulled a trinity and ben on me. i can’t believe it.”

you glance at her catching the way her eyes sparkle back at you, “too much?”

“no,” she says, shaking her head.

“it was cute... very cute.”

you pull up to her apartment, and before you can say anything, she turns to you.

"y/n, i… i like you. like, a lot. i didn’t know how to say it before without any of our teammates getting in the way but… yeah.”

your heart stops, then starts again, faster.

“i like you too, cat. a lot.”

she smiles, and it’s like the sun coming out.

“so…”

you take a deep breath, feeling bold.

“how about a date? do you remember that one rooftop restaurant you and mia took me to back in san diego last year. it was a beautiful place that overlooked the beaches. we could have our first date here but we’ve got national break in a few days so... are you in?”

“i’m in,” she says, leaning over to kiss you.

it was a quick peck, but it causes a smile to break through you anyways.

“it’s a date.” you mumbled against her lips.

you watch her walk into her building, your heart bursting.

when you get home, you text trinity.

y/n:

i did it. date with cat. you were right.

trinity four seconds later:

TOLD YOU.

shooters shoot, y/n.

i’m proud.

you laugh, sinking into your couch, already counting down the days until you are in san diego.

#catarina macario #catarina macario x reader #uswnt #trinity rodman #trinity rodman x reader #ben shelton #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #Chelsea fcw #Chelsea women #woso #womens football #wlw #Sophia smith #naomi girma #Naomi girma x reader

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hellfire--cult · 9 hours ago

Text

Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby

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

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

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

⚠️18+: softness, drama, nervousness, fluff, angst, hurt, your heart will clench, the younger ones (not so young) make an appearance, someone else does too

wc: 10.3k

A/N: I'm sorry for taking so long! I didn't proofread this much, but, well... these next chapters are where everything starts falling into place. The omegaverse, will start omegaversing after this one.

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

<- Prev. chapter - Next chapter ->

CHAPTER 24

You couldn’t believe where you were going.

You couldn’t even believe you were invited. This could also have happened even if you hadn’t slept with Eddie to begin with, but you couldn't help but feel honored and hopeful. He invited everyone in the group, and now you were in your brand new car, a Toyota, picked out by Eddie himself, driving into Hawkins.

“There’s literally no buildings… Like, no apartments and stuff…” You mentioned as you passed the downtown, while Robin hummed next to you, pointing at a particular one that looked like a three story complex.

“The apartment buildings here are small. You won’t ever see more than four story buildings around here.” She explained and you nodded as you kept your eyes on the road. It looked nice, homely. The stores looked like they were stuck in time, which only made it even more appealing.

“Must be a quiet little place to live in.” Robin chuckled as she laid back in the passenger’s seat, her phone in hand with the GPS on.

“Nah, we always found a way to make a mess somewhere. Especially Eddie.” Your heart skipped a beat and Robin noticed how you straightened yourself in your seat and she smirked your way. “Really? Just by saying his fucking name?”

“I– What?”

“You’re whipped. Gone. It looks cute, but at the same time, chill.” She said and you scoffed, stopping at a red light. Your head snapped to look at her with a frown in your face.

“I’m not that whipped.” Robin just stared at you with a poker face, silently asking you ‘really?’. You groaned with a sigh, laying back on the driver’s seat, running your hands over your face. “I didn’t think he would invite me.”

“Why not? It would be really stupid and disrespectful for him not to invite you, when he had his dick in every hole of yours–”

“Robin!” You gasped, your hands flying off your face to see Robin smiling at you.

“Why are you having a nervous breakdown now?” She asked and you sighed, noticing the light turning yellow. You started driving once it turned green again, looking over at Robin’s GPS for a second to look at the road, and then look forward once more.

“I– It’s… What if he doesn’t like me? I mean, Eddie didn’t like me when he first met me, so, maybe, it’s genetics, you know?” You could feel your throat closing up a bit when you talked. You had been a wreck when Eddie dropped the news to you. You cleaned your house a million times to keep yourself distracted, tried on many outfits, even if you were staying for just a few hours. You wanted it to be perfect, and to be liked.

“Oh my god… Wayne will like you. I promise you that. He respects anyone that puts Eddie in his place.”

Wayne. You would be meeting Wayne.

Eddie had told the plans a week ago to you. You had asked him if it was okay for you to meet him, and he told you that he would like for you to meet his Uncle. His uncle’s birthday. You were meeting Wayne on his birthday. That prospect was enough to send you into a spiral of nerves.

“I– I know I asked this a million times, but I dressed up okay, right?” You asked your best friend, only for her to roll her eyes and point to the right for you to follow the directions.

“You look fine! Jesus! You need to calm down!” You nodded and took a deep breath in as you kept driving, knowing you would soon meet Eddie’s home. Where he grew up to be who he was now. It was a really big step, a really big change. You might even cry at one point and you would not be able to explain yourself to the group.

The music playing on the radio was the only sound that engulfed the two of you as you kept driving to your destination. Your stomach was in knots, and you needed to be distracted from your thoughts. You cleared your throat, catching your best friend’s attention.

“So… Is Steve… still mad?” You asked and turned your head for a second to inspect Robin’s reaction. She frowned for a moment and that was enough answer for you. You sighed as you kept driving, shaking your head. “What is his fucking deal?”

“Look, I don’t know. I tried asking him and all I got was ‘You don’t understand.’. I don’t know what went on with him and Eddie. He wouldn’t tell me.” You couldn’t help but feel certain anger at your other friend. What was his problem with you? Were you not good enough for his best friend or something? Was he too pissed at Eddie for hiding you from him?

“It makes no sense Robs, and you know it.” You commented as you turned left, the sign of ‘Forest Hills: Trailer Park’ coming up. Your heart picked up a pace as you could already see a certain trailer with a bunch of tables gathered outside, seats, fairy lights all over and– It seemed like the entire community came for the birthday.

“Wayne is quite popular, isn’t he?” Robin stated and you hummed. You kind of knew why it could be. You could sense the twinge of sadness in Robin’s voice as she said that. You weren’t going to comment on it, so you slowed your car as you approached, seeing Eddie already in the distance, talking to an older woman as Steve helped with setting up drinks on the two tables.

You spotted Eddie’s car a trailer away, probably not wanting to park the car in front of his uncle’s home so he wouldn’t occupy the space. You parked right behind him and Robin instantly got out to go to the trunk to get the boxes of snacks out. You gripped the steering wheel once and closed your eyes to concentrate. You could do this. You could meet him. It was a big step, and you cannot mess this up.

You stepped out and helped Robin, closing the trunk and locking the car before heading towards Eddie’s old home. Even if you knew that the financial circumstances of these people were low, you could see the smiles as they greeted you. They had casseroles in their hands, pans with homemade bread. A small girl, around five, was holding a cake with the help of her older sister, maybe ten, walking towards Eddie to hand him the cake.

The world stopped spinning for a second as you watched. Eddie smiled widely as he held the cake and put it on the table. He lifted the girl up in his arms and twirled around to make her fly, her legs kicking around as she giggled loudly. The older sister was left pouting, looking at the attention her little sister was getting. Eddie put the younger girl down, only for him to do the same with the other, effortlessly, despite the height and weight difference.

You just stood there. The environment around you turned silent, no movement, just your heartbeat being heard in your ears. You didn’t know you were staring in awe, in amusement, completely entranced by him. He looked… beautiful. He looked perfect. Your heart tugged at you, painfully so, and–

“Hey.” You snapped out with a harsh blink as you turned your head to look at Robin, who was staring at you with a bit of worry, yet a small smile was on her lips. “You okay, soldier?”

“I– Yes. Yes, I’m– I’m fine.” You choked on your words as your feet started working again. You were left completely shocked as you looked at him, with children. He was playing with children. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You had to stop. You were becoming emotional, and you couldn’t afford this.

Nancy came out of the trailer holding stacks of cups, a smile appearing on her face as she saw Robin approaching. You had told Robin that no matter what, she must not tell Nancy. You knew it would be hard for her to do so, keeping secrets from her girlfriend, but Nancy was also a close friend of Eddie’s. Everything would be a mess if the entire group found out about you two.

Eddie and Steve had yet to realize you two had arrived. Steve was scratching his head as he distributed the bottles of drinks evenly on each table, and Eddie made the girls run back to their homes. It was Robin who announced the arrival of you two, making you jump in your place.

“My love!” She screeched as she wobbled with the box in her hands towards the trailer steps. Nancy giggled as she came down, giving her a peck on the lips. You smiled at the interaction, yet a pang of jealousy surged through you. You wanted to do that with the man who was slowly turning to face you. You wanted to greet him with a hug, with a kiss, with a cheeky comment about how his band t-shirt was not appropriate for a birthday.

Eddie smiled as he looked at you, walking your way to grab the box out of your hands first as he put it on the table. He frowned as he opened it, taking a look inside. Your heart was frantically beating out of your throat as you waited for him to say something.

“We asked for… cheetos. Just Cheetos. You brought the entire store.” He said with a chuckle, and you shrugged and looked around, seeing many of the neighbors already gathering up.

“Good thing I didn’t bring just that then.” He was smiling your way, seeing him take a gulp as he looked around for a second. Your eyes fell on a pair of hazel ones that were staring at the both of you intently. Steve averted his eyes as soon as you looked at him, and then he walked towards Robin and Nancy. You felt your heart drop slightly by how cold your friend was being to you because of all of this.

Eddie stared at your profile for a second. The wind blowing against you, and the warmth of the afternoon’s sun hitting your skin just right. You stood where he grew up. Where he was raised. And his body was reacting as such. His bottom lip was between his teeth as he gambled with his options.

His resolve to keep himself in check with you today was slowly wavering because you two couldn’t risk it. Not in front of his family or his friends. But he couldn’t contain it. His hand slowly reached for the small of your back, and your head snapped towards him, a question etched in your eyebrows.

You could see the need in his eyes. How he also wanted to kiss you, greet you like you two always did when seeing one another. You didn’t want to cross any boundaries today, knowing this was an important event for him and for everyone around him. You didn’t want to overstep in any sort of way. He turned around, yelling at Nancy.

“Nance, the sparklers are still in the car, right?”

“Oh, yeah! I think there’s also more napkins and the speaker!” She replied, and he nodded, looking your way again.

“Care to help me get those, Peach?”

Your heart beat insanely crazy in your chest as you nodded. You looked back for a second to see Steve shaking his head before his attention went back to Nancy. You frowned a bit as Eddie started leading you towards the parked cars, right where you came from. You didn’t know why Steve didn’t like you two together. Why was he so against the idea? He came here with Eddie and Nancy in the car, and they didn’t look weird or out of place, or anything like that when you saw them from afar.

The problem was when the two of you got together. Every time Steve saw you and Eddie together, he would shut down. He would not talk with either of you, and he would not even look at you. He would glare at Eddie a few times, and you couldn’t help but ask yourself if Steve knew what Eddie truly felt for you. If he knew, and he looked at Eddie that way whenever he suspected you two were doing something, then it didn’t mean anything good.

“Steve still mad?” You asked as you kept walking, coming towards his car only for him to look back at the trailer and for his hand to grab yours.

“A bit. He will come around, he’ll have to get over it sooner or later.” He mentioned, and you squeezed his hand back as he stepped around the car, going towards the other side so you two would be hidden from everyone else. He crouched a bit so he wouldn’t be seen, and– he hated this. He hated it, but– He couldn’t risk it. He didn’t know. He was lost. This was the first time he ever… that he ever–

“Hi.” You said with a smile, cutting his thoughts off, and his reaction was quick, smiling back down at you as everything else shut off in one second. His face leaned down, coming close to your lips as his ears started ringing.

“Hi.” He finally kissed you. Slow. Gentle. Tender. He was surprised he could even kiss someone like this. To kiss someone without the need for it to escalate into something else. To kiss just because he wanted to kiss the person. To kiss them first thing in the day, so they wouldn’t forget him so easily.

He felt your arms wrapping around his shoulders as his hands ran all over your back. He needed this. It was as if your embrace was a calming spot. A safe haven. He had been a wreck the past week. He was very sensitive, and everything that could be said to him it could end up badly.

His uncle’s birthday was not something easy for him to do. Not when it could potentially be his last birthday. So it had to be perfect. Everything had to come together nicely, and it had to be memorable for Wayne. He didn’t meet you this past week, even if he extremely wanted to. He didn’t want you to witness the mess he was. He arranged everything with his friends when Eddie finally accepted their offers of helping, including you.

You had nagged at him all week, asking if he needed you to do something, to help, but he always replied with a no, and that he had it under control. Steve was the one who made him snap out of his craziness and told Eddie that he was an idiot for doing this alone. But could you blame him? His family, the last member of it that he recognizes as such, is dying. This birthday, overall, means nothing.

But now with you, the weight was lifted off his shoulders in one second. His arms engulfed you, not wanting to let go just yet, as you two kissed. Lips moving against each other, savoring the moment because it had been days, hours, minutes. He counted every single one of those, and you had done almost the same.

You weren’t mad when Eddie didn’t ask you to meet him the past week. You understood him, but the need to help him made your skin itch. You couldn’t let him do this alone, but you didn’t know how to approach him without invading his space. You didn’t want him to get mad or snap at you. You were surprised when two days ago he called and asked if you could help get some of the things.

You were really happy to help, and you told him as such. You were happy he had included you in the celebration of Wayne’s birthday, and even happier that he had asked help from you to prepare it.

He kissed you softly, and you kissed back just the same. You wished you weren’t hiding right now. You wished you could meet Wayne under different circumstances. You wished you could introduce yourself as something else rather than his nephew’s friend slash fuckbuddy. He groaned into the kiss when your fingernails graced the back of his neck for a second, making him pull away.

“Sorry for not being… available this week–”

“I understand. It– It looks perfect, Eddie.” Your voice was like a calming tune in his head. As if the vibrations of your tone soothed each cell and made him become like putty under your arms. Vulnerability was something Eddie never did. He never showed it, and if he did, he always made sure to be alone for it.

Except one time.

One time, you had caught him red-handed after hanging up with Wayne. You two had barely started to talk, but something about you made him break. Something about you made him want to be vulnerable. Maybe it was due to the fact that you had been vulnerable with him, and he wanted to show you as well, be even.

But you had held him, let him cry out on your shoulder, and he never forgot about that touch. He never forgot about that moment with you. He never quite let go of how you rubbed his back and then helped him calm down from it all. He only broke down with Wayne, and he once did with Steve after Wayne got diagnosed.

And now, it seemed as if you understood why he wasn’t present this week. As if you knew the turmoil of emotions rushing all over his body because of today. And it was incredible how you could manage to make all of that disappear in one instant by just being here, with him. He stared at you for a while, a smile forming on his lips as he slowly nodded.

“Yeah… You guys helped me a lot, too.” You smiled up at him, to then pinch his cheek roughly as you glared when he winced. “What–!”

“You are one stubborn idiot.” You let go of his cheek, and he stepped back, rubbing his skin with a pout on his lips. You bit your lip, unable to contain yourself, grabbing onto the hem of his shirt and pulling him downwards again, towards your lips, kissing his pout away. “Don’t be a baby, Munson.”

“Now, be careful, sweetheart.” He roughly spoke as his eyes clashed with yours. You could sense the need behind it, the lack of physical touch from one another becoming apparent now. You really wanted to just take him away for a few hours now and spend it alone with him. You weren’t going to, but it was just your body reacting, and your emotions enhancing the need.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” You gave him a peck as you pushed him away softly, looking up at him as you tried to not let the sadness and disappointment show in your eyes. “We have been gone for a hot minute…”

He stared at you for a while, the wind blowing between the two of you for a few seconds, with no words being exchanged. He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to go back and pretend that he didn’t want to kiss you all the damn time. He didn’t want to hold himself back for the entire night. How was he going to achieve that when he knew he would probably need you by his side for this?

“Yeah. The others might arrive soon too…” You hummed at his response, biting your bottom lip as you looked up at him. He huffed with a smile, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips, reading your mind. You took the opportunity to move your hand down and pinch his left ass cheek, making him squeal. “I swear, you are LITERALLY obsessed with my ass.”

“I swear you had another mosquito.” You giggled as you went towards the trunk of his car. He chuckled and pressed the middle button of his key, letting you open it up. You whistled as you saw the huge speaker laying inside. “When Nancy said the speaker, I thought of a small one. Like those JBL ones.”

Eddie chuckled, standing next to you, grabbing the speaker, boombox, by its handle and pulling it out. You wanted to bite his arm from how its veins popped out from the movement, but you had to keep yourself together. At least for today.

“We have almost the entire park coming for Wayne’s birthday. A small speaker wasn’t going to cut it, Peach.” He said as he looked at his old home. They weren’t going to lack on food and drinks since all the neighbors came with stuff. There weren’t many people, but there were quite a few. “It might be his last one… That’s why they all came.”

And you knew it. You had that suspicion. You looked up at Eddie, staring at his profile. His jaw was clenching as his eye bag looked like it was pulsating. He was stressed. He was nervous. He was anxious. You didn’t care at that moment. If Nancy or anyone else were looking, they could go to hell.

You wrapped your hands around his arm, nuzzling your nose against his bicep before placing a soft kiss there. He was wide eyed as he stared down at you, knowing you two were not covered by the car anymore. Your eyes looked up to clash against his, a warm and encouraging smile spreading on your lips.

“Let’s make it a great birthday. Okay?”

Time went still again, and yet he smiled back, giving a nod your way. You slowly let go of his arm, and the seconds started ticking again. You grabbed the napkins and sparklers from the passenger’s seat as Eddie closed the trunk. He grabbed the handle of the huge speaker and rolled it like a carry-on back towards the party, setting it up with his phone so music would start playing through the field.

You helped Nancy put the snacks in bowls and plates, as more people brought little pies or snacks, as well as drinks. Some introduced themselves as old fishing pals of Wayne, then a woman who told you that Wayne had helped her fix her pipes when she barely moved in years ago. Everyone had stories with him, and you realised he was dearly loved and cared about in this trailer park.

Then, Argyle, Eden, and Jonathan finally rolled up. They were bringing in alcoholic drinks because Jonathan had great deals with suppliers thanks to his bar. The drinks were nicely put on the table, and Jonathan made it very clear to keep them clean and respectful. Basically, he told people to measure themselves with the alcohol and not get drunk in a lapse of minutes.

Nancy then started waving excitedly towards the road, which made you look forward, seeing her brother waving back, followed by Will, a boy and a girl you didn’t know, and Dustin. You wondered if they knew about you. Did they know what you looked like? Did they know you by name, even?

Your questions were answered when Jonathan and Nancy gave their hugs, and Will immediately smiled at you.

“Finally, nice to meet you.” That’s how you knew. You smiled at the young boy, shaking his hand as you presented yourself. Mike, even if acting as if he weren’t interested, he shook your hand with his enthusiastically. You then looked at the two young people you hadn’t met, nor even seen in any of the pictures Eddie had shown you.

“I’m Lucas.” The boy said, presenting himself and shaking your hand. Lucas… Eddie had mentioned a boy who quit his club to go into the basketball team, and maybe that boy was Lucas. You turned to the short-haired girl, who was smiling at you.

“I’m Jane.” You smiled as you shook her hand. Before you could say anything, you were engulfed in the arms of a stranger whom you only knew through pictures.

“Oh man! It’s great to finally meet you!” Dustin exclaimed excitedly as he pulled away, your eyes wide in surprise as he held your shoulders. “I’m Dustin Henderson, pretty sure you know that already, very popular amongst the older crowd.”

You couldn’t help the snort and the smile bubbling up in you as you looked at the guy in front of you. He was radiating happiness in every single aspect. You couldn’t help but feel giddy as he shared his emotions with you. You presented yourself, and he gave you a roll of his eyes, telling you he knew.

“Yeah, I know a bit about most of you.” You commented, and before Dustin could say anything, you felt the collar of your shirt being pulled from the back, separating you from the younger man in front of you. Dustin’s eyes looked up, and your head turned to look at Eddie with an eyebrow raised in question.

“Now, you don’t hug people you just met, Henderson. It’s creepy.” He said almost in a snarl, but Dustin smiled widely and immediately latched onto Eddie. You were wide-eyed as you saw all the younger ones hugging Eddie tightly, forming a big chunk of people. You inspected Eddie’s face as he stayed in the middle, his eyes closed as he breathed in.

You realized that it might have been months since they all last saw each other. Steve, Robin, Argyle, and Eden approached next, and they all happily greeted each other, with Steve also almost getting tumbled over. Argyle presented Eden as his girlfriend, and– Shit, another pang of jealousy. You wanted that. You wanted to be presented as… as a girlfriend, just like her.

Then you looked at how Will and Mike had stepped back, and Mike’s arm was wrapped around Will’s waist as he listened to Steve talk to Dustin about proper manners with alcohol. They were 20, but they were allowed to drink under their supervision.

“For context…” Jonathan stood next to you, holding back a chuckle. “We were present when we let Dustin have his first taste of alcohol at eighteen. We turned around for a second, and he had chugged two beers down.”

“What!?” You asked loudly, looking at Jonathan with a disapproving look on your face. He shrugged at you with a roll of his eyes.

“He is a menace! And very sneaky!” You shook your head at him, a small smile forming on your lips as you looked back at the group. “So… heard things with Jeff broke off.”

You blinked a few times at his words, and you wondered why he suddenly said them, only to then see Jeff, Gareth, and another guy coming over, laughing as they talked. You had to lie to them again. Robin helped with coming up with that plan. Supposedly, you and Jeff had tried going exclusive, only for it to not work out. Jeff had feelings for someone else, while you never caught those for him. You were two friends who often fucked and that was it. You pretended you had misinterpreted your feelings.

“Yeah, but it’s better this way. I honestly am happy that he is with the one he truly likes now.” You smiled, and Jonathan’s eyebrows were still furrowed in the middle in concern. You turned to look at him and sighed. “I promise, I am fine. I explained to you that I thought I liked him, just because he was the only one I was fucking.”

“Still… I don’t know… I just feel like you– You sound incomplete, if that makes sense.” You stared at him as the words processed in your head. Incomplete. How does one sound… incomplete?

Your attention was brought back as people started cheering and clapping, and you turned to look towards the trailer door. Walking down the small stairs with Lucia, the caretaker, helping from behind, was Wayne. He was waving as best as he could, taking little steps to reach the wheelchair at the bottom of the porch. Eddie was already standing there, and your eyes filled with tears as you saw the boney structure of his uncle embrace his nephew, who was much bigger than him, yet he was hugging him as if Eddie were still a kid.

Eddie held onto him, separating just enough to help him get on the wheelchair as Lucia prepared the IVs on the back to connect him to. You saw people slowly approach Wayne to start congratulating him and you waited by the tables, alongside the rest of your group. The corroded coffin guys stepped up, going first.

The old man greeted them, and you could see him reprimanding Gareth for something. You were staring at Eddie’s reactions, standing next to his uncle as he listened in to all the greetings. Then, the younger ones greeted him, and you noticed how Eddie had to grip Dustin by the hair to not get overly excited when telling something to his uncle, who was trying not to burst out laughing.

Then, your group started moving, one by one, greeting him and giving small talk. Argyle seemed to have offered some of his things, which Eddie only rubbed his temples at. He also presented Eden to him. Nancy just politely greeted him, only for Robin to start telling Wayne how she was her girlfriend now in a very loud manner. Jonathan apologized for Robin’s excitement, and the old man thanked him for the nice glass of whiskey he would drink tonight. He spent an awful lot of time talking with Steve, and you stood at the side, the nerves eating away at your own stomach.

You were a stranger here. You were invading privacy, and you didn’t know how to act with it. You didn’t know how to introduce yourself. You didn’t know if his uncle knew the clashes you and Eddie had in the past, the number of insults you threw at his nephew. If he knew, he would hate you. He definitely would despise you. Fuck, you didn’t know–

“Peach.”

Your head snapped up, seeing Eddie with a smile on his face as he put his hand behind your left shoulder. You gave him a quick, nervous nod and took a deep breath as you let him guide you towards his uncle. Wayne Munson was looking up at you already, a tilt of his head as he inspected you all over.

“I do not know you.” He said with curiosity. You opened your mouth only for Eddie to give your name first, and then Wayne’s eyes widened, and he squinted at you. “I’m sorry– You– You are the one who tried to beat him up, right?”

Oh, fuck, he knew. His uncle knew about you and Eddie hating each other before. This looked bad, and the fact that he knew that part specifically. Shit. Your heart was slowly stopping in panic as you took a sharp intake of breath.

“I– Yes, but–” You were interrupted by laughter, his uncle clapping as he cracked up as if you had just told the greatest joke of all time. Your eyes were wide as Eddie groaned in exasperation next to you. You didn’t know what was happening as you looked back and forth, wondering what you had done to make this situation funny.

“Lord, I respect you, kid. Honestly, not many have the balls to do what you did to someone like him.” You tilted your head in question, and Eddie’s eyes snapped open at his uncle’s words. Wayne looked at him, and Eddie gave a subtle shake of his head. Not now. It was not the time. His uncle understood and grabbed your hand. “I’m Wayne, nice to meet you.”

You slowly shook his hand, and when you pulled away, you turned to look at Eddie, who was already looking down at you. His eyes were filled with emotions that you couldn’t decipher. There was a mix of absolutely everything, and you didn’t know which to pinpoint first. You opened your mouth to talk, only for Robin to interrupt you both.

“Come set up beer pong with me!” She called out to you specifically, and you nodded, smiling down at Wayne once again.

“Happy birthday, Mr. Munson. If you play beer pong, I’m your rival.” You made conversation, and the older man rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

“That would be your worst mistake. I may be in a wheelchair, but my pulse is steady.” You were happy he took the comment with the same energy you delivered it and then you walked away to help Robin. Eddie stayed back with his uncle, guiding them both to a table. Eddie grabbed a beer and then filled a cup with just a quarter of whiskey in it.

“Don’t tell the doctors.” Eddie said, and his uncle chuckled, grabbing the cup and taking it to his lips.

“Never.” He took a small sip of the whiskey as Eddie sat down and popped the can open for him to take a sip of his own. “So… that girl.”

“What about her?” His uncle chuckled a bit, scratching the side of his head. Eddie’s heart was beating out of his chest as he waited for an answer, only for his old man to shrug.

“She seems nice.” Eddie let a small sigh escape before taking another sip of his beer. “Lovely of her to help you with the boombox.”

He spat his entire beer out, choking on the gas that got trapped in his throat. Fuck– Fuck–

“I– That didn’t… Shit, that didn’t–”

“Mean anything?” Wayne asked with an eyebrow raised in question. He slowly took another sip as he stared at his nephew. Eddie was looking down, a hand scratching his head as he tried to look for the best words.

“We… It’s just physical.” He tried to say as best as he could, but the words came out small, and his uncle noticed.

“I may be old… and I may be sick, but I know when something doesn’t mean anything. That kiss I saw… Come on.” His uncle pressed, and Eddie sighed heavily, looking at him with a frown in the middle of his forehead.

“How did you even see us?” He asked, only for Lucia to come by for a second, grabbing a napkin from the table, humming innocently. Eddie glared at her, a bit of annoyance displaying in his features. “Lucia…”

“Look, it ain’t my fault your uncle picked up a few words in Spanish. I saw you two while I helped him get dressed, and I said ‘Eddie se esta besando con una chica!’ and your uncle’s curiosity spiked.” The woman explained, and Wayne chuckled.

“I only caught the words ‘Eddie’, ‘kissing’, and ‘girl’. She helped me get up and see.” Eddie groaned exasperated, and Wayne nodded at Lucia for her to walk away and leave him alone with his nephew. She stepped away, her eyes on Wayne at all times if he needed anything at all. “Son…”

“Old man, I know what you saw but… it’s not that simple.”

“In all my years I’ve never seen you with someone. Not like that. Edward, you’ve never invited the people you spent nights with to my birthdays, nor yours.” He explained and Eddie felt trapped, as if someone was putting pressure on his back.

“It’s because she is in our friend group. That’s the whole reason for it.” Wayne sighed at the excuse, shaking his head at the stubbornness.

“Eddie… stop looking at it logically.”

Eddie’s eyes widened and he looked up to see his uncle smiling. He knew. He knew what was going on in his mind. Of course he did, Wayne was his family, his real father so to speak. Wayne knew him like the back of his own hand.

“I– I don’t know how it should really feel. I never told her–” Wayne nodded, and opened his mouth to talk, only for him to be called by his friends. He turned to look at Eddie for a second and he only smiled, “Go, we’ll talk later. I’m staying here for a few more days, remember?”

“Sure son.” He nodded towards Lucia, who came over to help Wayne go to his fishing friends. Eddie stared at his family and just sat there. He was playing with his fingers as he felt his entire body tensing with sudden nerves.

Why was everything so complicated? Why was he the complicated one? Why couldn’t it be easy for him to know when it was right? When everything made sense? It wasn’t fair that he didn’t know how it should really feel. It wasn’t fair.

His thoughts were interrupted when a hand was plastered on his back, making him jump up completely startled and defensive, grabbing the wrist of the hand that patted him.

“Whoa! It’s just me!” Dustin exclaimed, completely startled, putting his other hand up in defense. Eddie sighed and let go of him and his younger friend sat down next to him, grabbing a beer and popping one open. Eddie glared at him, squinting his eyes. “What?”

“Easy.”

“I have learned my ways. I am not a teenager anymore.” He said proudly, and took a long sip of the can, making Eddie sigh in defeat. He exclaimed his satisfaction with a long ‘ah’ and silence engulfed them for a few seconds. “You doing alright?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I am.” Dustin gave a small encouraging smile and Eddie could feel the nervousness in his friend as he tapped his fingers against the can. “What’s going on with you?”

“Oh? Me? Nothing? Why would something be… wrong with me?” He said with a nervous fake chuckle, and Eddie frowned in question, the interest spiking.

“Henderson… what is it?” Dustin took a swig of his beer, looking down at the top of it, his fingers playing around the can. Eddie’s eyes narrowed as he waited; he rarely saw Dustin this nervous, even before when he was DM for the club.

“Um… I… I kinda have to tell you something, actually just kind of– wanting to get something off of my chest.” He confessed, and Eddie immediately looked around to make sure no one was around, his protectiveness over Dustin’s privacy growing.

“Alright… is it bad?”

“I– No, I mean, it is? It isn’t? I’m happy, so you would… suspect it isn’t bad, but…” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Suzie and I broke up.”

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock because Dustin had always boasted about Suzie. He always talked about her as if she hung the stars in the sky for him. No one ever got to meet her thanks to her religion. Her parents never let her go on trips by herself, much less to meet a boy.

“Why?” He managed to ask, and Dustin sighed, taking a sip of his beer, Eddie following.

“Her religion. I… I adored Suzie, but… It wasn’t going to work out. She likes her religion, and I can’t force her out of it… Nor can she force me into it.” He explained and Eddie nodded in understanding, his heart turning a bit, knowing how much Dustin must have hurt from this.

“When did it happen?” He asked, and Dustin looked at him with a small smile, as if silently apologizing.

“A few months ago… It wasn’t something that I didn’t know was going to happen, Eddie. We both knew it was a matter of time.” Eddie was surprised to hear those words coming out of Dustin’s mouth, realizing just how much his freshman from school had grown up. Eddie patted his back in comfort, the younger man nodding as a thanks.

“Still, you could have called. You know we are here for you at all times.” He reminded his friend, and Dustin looked back down again, clearing his throat. Eddie’s eyebrows met in the middle as he saw a red hue appearing on Dustin’s ears.

“Yeah, I– Well… Someone kind of… comforted me…” Now Eddie was stunned, the words processing in his head because he understood what they meant, but he had a hard time grasping it.

“What? Who? Mike?” The younger man sighed and shook his head, clearing his throat as Eddie started noticing the nervousness that was building up in him.

“Not… Not Mike, no…” He then mumbled something really low under his breath, but Eddie only heard a hum. He moved a bit closer, his eyebrow raising in question at his friend.

“What? I didn’t catch that.” Dustin sighed and covered his mouth, mumbling again.

“... –ping… th– ne–”

“Henderson, I can’t fucking hear–”

“I’m sleeping with Jane! Jesus Christ Eddie!”

The older man’s eyes widened as he stared at Dustin. The poor guy covered his face, afraid someone had heard his outburst, but Eddie remained frozen. Jane…? His head turned to look at her, chatting away with Nancy with a smile on her face.

“I… but… She’s Mike’s ex–”

“I know.”

“And your friend.” And Dustin sighed and nodded.

“I know.” Eddie was still stunned as he looked at Dustin with a scrunched-up nose, and the younger one smacked Eddie in the arm, completely offended by his gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that!?”

“I’m sorry! It’s still hard for me to– To not see you as that weird fourteen year old who loved Alf, Henderson–” Eddie then gasped, pointing at him. “You lost your virginity with Jane–”

Dustin’s free hand flew to cover Eddie’s mouth, trying to shush him. The younger man was blushing a deep red, looking around to make sure no one was trying to come near them thanks to their antics. Eddie groaned in disgust as he pulled Dustin’s hand off his mouth, glaring back at him.

“Don’t say it so fucking loud, dickhead!” Eddie rolled his eyes, but warmth invaded his chest as he tilted his head for Dustin to continue. “I… I know… It’s fucking crazy– I mean, her and me, we know each other since… what, eleven?”

“Friends for a long time, yeah.” He was trying to understand his friend’s situation, wondering what was truly bothering him. “Are you conflicted because no one knows you’re sleeping with a friend’s ex or–”

“What, no! I know Mike wouldn’t have a problem with it… They broke up because Mike found himself, and Jane understood… It’s not really that…” Dustin’s eyes grew distant, and Eddie followed his gaze, only to see him looking at Jane. The air felt calm for some reason, as if the party around them was not happening.

“Then what is it?”

“We are hooking up… and it’s great…” He stopped for a few seconds, and Eddie saw how you approached Jane, offering her something to drink with a smile on your face. “But what if I don’t want to just hook up anymore?”

And Eddie froze for a second there.

The words banged into his skull like a rocket crashing into the moon. He frowned as his heart felt as if it were speeding up, his stomach turning the more he looked at you, the more Dustin’s words repeated inside his head. His mouth moved before he could process it.

“How do you know?”

“How do I know what?”

“How do you know you want more than just that? Maybe the sex is just… that great.” Dustin scoffed and that made Eddie lose focus on you to look back at his friend. His eyes never left Jane, not for a second.

“Because I want more than that… I want to hold her hand just because… Kiss her just because… Hug her just because… I want to go over there right now, and kiss her, in front of everyone so that people know she is mine.” Eddie stared at Dustin as if he had just discovered the library of Alexandria. He felt his body wave between hot and cold, sweats running all over him, his hair standing on end the more his younger friend’s words settled inside his gut.

“Isn’t that just you being possessive?” Dustin only chuckled at that, finally turning to look back at Eddie as if he had just told the greatest joke in the world.

“But that’s part of it. My possessiveness tells me just how much I want her to be mine and mine only.” And Eddie froze entirely, the wind moving the strands of hair in front of his face as Dustin talked. “Being possessive isn’t bad… if measured, it helps you show the other person how much you care.”

His eyes were wide, slowly turning his head to look back to where you were. Argyle and you were chatting now, and he was trying to make Will get a hit of his joint, and you were trying to bat him away. You turned your head just in time to catch him looking and Eddie didn’t turn away. He felt his heart clench as you waved at him, wincing in Argyle’s direction, asking silently for him to help you.

He gulped, his head turning to look at Dustin who was smirking at him, and before Eddie could ask, his friend got up from the chair, taking a sip of his beer, giving a triumphant ‘Ah’ as he finished it.

“I am for once the mature one.” He said and Eddie rolled his eyes, getting up from the chair and yanking Dustin’s small mullet with a harsh tug, making him yelp in a high pitched manner, making Eddie snort.

“Yeah, right.” Dustin pushed Eddie away, flipping him off with his middle finger, but Eddie couldn’t help the warm smile directed to his friend. He was indeed more mature than him today. Maybe had been for a while.

It would have been nice to grow up knowing what one truly wants. What your heart truly desires and not what your brain conjures up. To be told that everything could be a side effect. To be told that he couldn’t really be entirely normal, that his feelings were never going to be exact, or just like the others.

But when he looked at you once more, Dustin’s words started repeating themselves in his ears. Over, and over, and over again. You asked for help again with a mere look in your eyes, and he couldn’t help himself. His feet moved before he could control them, but he knew this wouldn’t happen with anybody.

No… He was only magnetized by you.

Hours had passed and the people started going back to their homes, leaving just a very few present, that included yourself, your party, a few neighbors, Wayne’s friends, and Lucia.

You were starting to put all the snacks in leftover tupperwares, knowing people had stopped eating by now, and you didn’t want the food to go soggy or bad. You felt a presence next to you, and you saw Harley bouncing on her feet a little bit. In her arms, laid her daughter, an eight month old baby, little gargles escaping her little lips. Looking at women in the pregnancy stages made you feel down, and you could admit that, but babies… Already born babies made you feel insanely fulfilled.

“I’m sorry, could you please hold my baby for a second? I have to help Lucia take down some of the decorations!” You had introduced yourself to her before in the night, but the baby then was inside her little egg crib, sound asleep.

“Oh, but don’t worry about it, I can help–”

“Nonsense, I’ve been sitting all day with the baby, and I didn’t help at all. Please, it’ll be a few minutes!” You blinked a few times as you felt you felt pressure on your chest, as if you were being squished. Your fingertips went a little cold, as you looked down at the baby. You held one baby in your life, and it was that same baby who made you realize you wanted to have kids.

You took a deep breath in as you raised your arms up, letting Harley pass the baby onto your arms delicately. You didn’t want to make any sudden movements, but when you looked down at the little thing, at those big orbs staring at you, you instantly melted. You smiled widely, your index finger reaching up to boop her nose, only for her to engulf it in her small hand.

“What’s her name?” You asked, and the mother was already rolling up the sleeves of her blouse.

“Sabrina! Okay, I promise I won’t be long! She is very friendly!” With that, Harley rushed away, leaving you behind with her baby as you saw her helping Lucia start cleaning up the tables. You looked at your friends who were all talking to each other, in their own world, and then your gaze fell back down to the sound of little gurgles in your arms.

She was so beautiful. So innocent and pure. Her life was to be written, miracles yet to happen to her. All the possibilities that could happen for her, all the people she’ll meet, and you were one of the lucky ones.

“She tried biting my finger off one time.” You heard a gruff voice say from behind you, making you snap out of your thoughts, quickly turning around, finding Wayne Munson smiling up at you from his wheelchair.

“Oh, this bundle of sunshine? No, she wouldn’t do that.” You cooed at the baby, who only smiled at your bunny kisses. The old man kept a smile on his face and he nodded to the chair next to him, motioning for you to sit down. You carefully sat down, getting comfortable with the baby in your arms.

“The most innocent-looking are the ones who turn out to be serial killers.” He joked, and you fake gasped, pretending to move the baby away.

“Do not listen to the old man, Sabrina, he doesn’t know a thing about cute, sweet princesses like you. How could you ever be a cannibal?” Wayne chuckled at your jokes and watched as you bounced the baby a little to keep her entertained. He inspected you, saw how you smiled at the little girl in your arms, and he couldn’t help himself.

“For how long?” You looked up at him, the smile still on your face.

“How long, what, sir?”

“For how long have you felt things for my son?”

Your world froze up, time stopped, and it even skipped. What did he say? What– Were you obvious? Were you too obvious? You hadn’t interacted with Eddie much today, so you didn’t know how he could have figured it out. Sweat ran all over your body like a waterfall, and it was by sheer luck that you remembered you had another human in your arms right now.

“I’m… I’m sorry, I don’t–”

“Darling, don’t worry. I won’t tell.” You were frozen in fear, caught completely red-handed by none other than his own uncle, and you didn’t miss how he called Eddie his son. Wayne saw Eddie as if he were his own. Just like Eddie told you, he sees Wayne as his father. His pops.

“I’m… I–” You didn’t know what to say. You felt your entire face burning at thousands of degrees, and how were you supposed to navigate this situation? How were you supposed to handle this? Were you supposed to lie? To tell the truth? To act like he was insane? That would be mean given the circumstances, but…

At the lack of your response, Wayne straightened up, clearing his throat to snap you back into this world, noticing the nervousness that started building inside of you.

“One time, we were out fishing. Eddie was fourteen at that time. He didn’t like fishing at fucking all, let me tell you just that, but he tried for my sake and for us to share a hobby together.” He chuckled as he remembered the day, retelling it to you– “So I took him fishing with me. He tried, and tried to get the fish, until he started throwing a tantrum when it wouldn't catch.”

You giggled a little at the story, making Wayne turn to look at you, as if asking what you were laughing about.

“I’m sorry, it just… it sounds like him.”

“Why do you say that?” Wayne contained a smile as he looked at you, your eyes falling on the baby in your arms as it did grabby hands at you.

“He gets really mad whenever he isn’t right. He once couldn’t admit to me that pickles with peanut butter tasted good, just like I said.” You commented, remembering that day that Eddie discovered that strange snack of yours. He had called you nasty, for many days, making fun of you, only to find him in the middle of the night, eating them in the darkness of the kitchen.

“He has a really bad temper sometimes. And I could barely handle that boy’s sweet tooth.”

“I fucking know! Whenever he sees me make anything with chocolate chips, he would stand next to me–” and Wayne continued, finishing the sentence for you,

“– And make sure you put almost the entire bag inside!” You laughed as you nodded, his own chuckles following soon.

Silence then wrapped around the two of you, your eyes never leaving his. You felt like you couldn’t lie to him. You felt like this man deserved to know that someone wants to make Eddie as happy as he did. For some reason you wanted Wayne to know, it felt right to let him know.

“For a while.” You answered and Wayne nodded slowly, understanding. He could see truth in your eyes, and he could feel that you would never hurt his nephew. His family. He sighed, shaking his head.

“Kids these days. You’re too scared of the what ifs that you forget to live in the moment.” You snorted a bit at the old man kind of comment. But he was right, wasn’t he? “What are you scared of?”

“I’ve… been through a lot… I guess I just don’t want to end up hurt again…” You huffed, rocking the baby in your arms a bit, shaking your head. “Kind of pointless now that it already happened but…”

Wayne nodded, and he looked down at Sabrina, who was holding onto your finger as you pretended you were shaking her hand. He smiled softly as you cooed, made babbling noises with your mouth, and then he chuckled, catching your attention.

“Pointless…? No, feelings are never pointless. They dictate who you are, where you are, who you’re with, and where you’re headed. But one has to always face them, sweetheart.” You stared at the man for a while, a small smile forming on your lips as your heart filled with warmth.

“Now I know where Eddie got the pet naming from.”

“A Munson trait, sorry about that.” He smiled at you, and you couldn’t help the lump that formed in your throat, gulping it as you whispered to him.

“I really… I really like your son.”

Wayne couldn’t help the tears that formed in his waterlines, nodding at your words. He sniffled and held his hand out for you to grab. Your hand slowly held his, and you could feel the care in his touch, the plea.

“Then don’t let him be stupid.” He said with an order, and you sniffled, nodding at him. You opened your mouth, and he stopped you, raising his free hand. “I won’t tell him… He’s staying with me for a few more days. If I know of something, I’ll tell you.”

He winked at you playfully, and you couldn’t help the wet giggle that escaped you. Your friends were unaware of the interaction that was happening a few feet away from them, or that’s what you both thought.

Steve stood next to Eddie, a little farther from the trailer. They were having a small smoke break together, and they had been talking about Eddie’s stay, knowing he would be in Hawkins for a few more days to keep Wayne company.

“You know, I can always stay if you need me here. You know that, right? Eds?” Steve said, but received no response. He frowned, looking up from the ground to see Eddie no longer looking at him, but to the horizon, wide-eyed, almost as if he were seeing a ghost. He followed the line of sight, and Steve’s face softened as he realized what Eddie was looking at.

You were laughing with Wayne, and there was a baby in your arms. He felt lightweight, like nothing in the world mattered anymore. The world turned into clouds, the other people didn’t exist. It was just you, Wayne, him, and that baby. That baby who fits so well in your arms. That baby who pressed her hands on your face when you tried to give her a kiss. Your smile mimicked the baby’s as you two laughed at his Uncle making a face.

Everything felt serene. It felt right. It felt like this: if he wanted it, he could have it. He could, couldn’t he? He wanted it. He wanted it all. You were it all. He wanted everyone to know you were his, and his only. He wanted you to know he was yours, and yours only. He wanted to take you out, he wanted to plan things with you, he wanted to be true to you, he wanted it.

He wanted you, just like you were now, and he couldn't help but pretend you were holding his baby. Not a stranger's.

His uncle looked up, and he saw Eddie looking at you two. Wayne nudged your shoulder to get your attention, and once he did, he pointed at Eddie, telling you that he was staring. Eddie saw you giggle and whisper something to his uncle, only to then see the two of you raising your middle fingers up at him, snickering together. He wasn’t even mad about that. His chest only pressed harder on him. His heart hurt more, in every perfect way.

Steve huffed, not stopping Eddie when he saw him start walking away by his own accord. He walked towards you and his uncle. The two of you pretended to be innocently playing with the baby, as if you hadn’t just flipped Eddie off from a distance. Once he reached you two, he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You two having fun mocking me or something?” Wayne rolled his eyes, his voice rough and dramatic.

“We would never do that.” You nodded at that with a small frown.

“Mhm, never ever!” Eddie’s heart tugged at him again, yet this time he didn’t fight it. Yeah, there was no need to fight it anymore, was there? The answer was here. He finally had it.

The baby suddenly cooed, and Eddie noticed her little hands trying to reach him, doing a grabby motion. He smiled, putting his arms out to tell you to hand him the baby. Your heart skipped many beats as you got up, handing the baby into his arms, and you were surprised when he handled her with such care.

His arm was underneath her, cradling her into him with ease as he wiggled his fingers on her cheek, causing her to giggle from the tickling. You bit your bottom lip as you stood next to him, looking down at the baby with a smile to your face. You were startled when he booped your nose, making you squeal a little, but that made the baby jump a bit in Eddie’s arms, scared.

And then she started crying.

Eddie gasped, his mouth wincing as he frowned, looking at you for help. You were glaring at him, stomping your foot at him.

“Now look at what you did!” You whispered in a yell to him, and he huffed, rolling his eyes your way, bouncing on his feet to rock the baby.

“I didn’t know you would react like a scaredy cat, Peach, how the fuck was I supposed–”

“Don’t curse!!! It’s a baby! She might catch on to it!” The baby’s cries kept going as you two kept bickering, but Eddie never once stopped rocking it, and you never once stopped trying to send funny faces between the words being exchanged.

And Wayne watched it all. He watched how his nephew was surrounded by his friends. He had support. He watched how the boy he took in and raised as his own son, turned out to be a good man. Eddie wasn’t perfect, no one really was. But Wayne didn’t want to leave without knowing Eddie would be okay.

And there’s you. He knew. Everyone would take care of Eddie, but Wayne had always hoped to find someone like you. He had always hoped that someone would care for Eddie in the same levels he cared for him. And he found that person. You were calling his nephew names, but Wayne knew you didn’t mean a single one of them.

Eddie would not be alone. He had trust that his nephew, his son, would not be stupid. That he would keep fighting, despite the fear. To keep grasping to the things he wants, and to never let go of them. Wayne knew he could do that with you.

He can finally say that it was all worth it. It will be worth it in the end. Because seeing Eddie smiling down at you without you noticing, tells Wayne everything he needs to know. Eddie would not give up on you, and he could have a moment’s peace knowing his son is going to be taken care of.

He could finally breathe.

He could finally relax.

Two days after his birthday, Wayne Munson passed away in the warmth of his bed, accompanied by his family.

end of chapter 24

a/n: im sorry.

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bjwmastermind-writes · 1 day ago

Text

ch.5 - fences and cities - dbf! joel miller &f!reader

series masterlist

previous chapter

A/N: Has it been that long?? It feels like ages but i have no concept of time to be honest. You know what they say, save a horse ride a cowboy...well

warnings: dad best friend! trope, large age gap (reader is early 20's and Joel is around late 40s, p & v, unprotected sex it wasn't planned but wrap it before tapping don't be like them, cockwarming, finishing inside, angst. I can't think of any more warnings but if you think I'm missing any let me know.

mdni. i am not responsible for what you choose to consume.

do not copy, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

You wake up with a headache pounding behind your eyes like someone’s playing drums on your skull. The kind of hangover that tastes like regret and tequila. You sit up slow, tongue dry, the memory of last night fuzzed around the edges.

Bar.

Shots.

Joel.

Joel’s hands on someone else—her laugh too loud, her nails tracing his arm. Your throat still burns from the jealousy that bubbled up like acid.

And then… fuck.

You told him. You confessed. Somewhere in the haze of liquor and impulse, you cornered Joel like a damn idiot and told him everything. That you wanted him. That you’d been wanting him.

And he kissed you.

Pushed you up against the wall, his thigh wedged between yours, your hand—

You shove it away, your own hand sliding down your stomach instinctively before you catch yourself. Nope. Not going there. Not while your head’s pounding and you’re still unsure if it was real or a hallucination courtesy of one too many whiskey shots and a decade of repressed tension.

But you remember one thing clearly.

Joel wanted it too. You felt it. Saw it. It wasn’t one-sided.

You spend the day pretending to be fine.

You show up at the stables, waiting to see him, maybe talk it through like two emotionally responsible adults. But he’s not there. You ask around and one of the older guys, Mark, says Joel called in sick.

“Sick, huh?” you mutter. “Yeah, sure.”

So you do his list anyway. Feed the horses. Clean the stalls. Sweep the damn barn even though no one’s asked you to. You think if you just stay busy, maybe you’ll stop thinking about the weight of Joel’s hands. Maybe.

You don’t.

By the time you’re done, the sun’s slipping down and your shirt smells like hay and sweat. You don’t care. You hop on your bike and make the ride to Joel’s house with more determination than logic.

You knock on the front door. No answer.

You try the back.

And then—

“Jesus, you tryna break into my house now?”

You scream. Spin around like a startled cat. Joel stands behind you, a brow raised, a smirk twitching on his face.

Without thinking, you throw a punch.

“Shit—OW!” he yelps, jerking back as your fist connects with his cheekbone.

“Oh my god! Oh my god, I’m sorry—fuck—Joel, are you okay?”

He’s scowling, hand on his face, wincing like a man betrayed. “You just clocked me.”

“I thought you were someone else! That was like—a New York reflex!”

“Damn, remind me not to sneak up on you again,” he mutters.

Inside, you sit him down on the couch and press a half-frozen bag of peas against his cheek. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, doll. I’m fine. Not the first time I’ve been hit in the head.”

“Still,” you say, not meeting his eyes. “You didn’t show up to work. I got worried. Thought you were… avoiding me.”

He doesn’t answer at first. Just watches you, unreadable.

“You were worried about me, doll?” he asks, teasing it out like it’s nothing.

“I guess,” you mumble. “I thought maybe you were ignoring me after… last night.”

There it is. The silence thickens. You’re about to take it back, joke it off, but Joel reaches out and takes your hands—gently, like you’re something precious.

“Listen,” he says, voice low. “Last night was…”

He pauses. Searching for the word. You see it flash across his face—mistake—and panic flares in your chest.

But then he shakes his head.

“...intense,” he finishes. “Unexpected. Not a mistake.”

You look up at him.

“Not a mistake?” you echo, barely breathing.

“No,” he says, thumb brushing your knuckles. “Not even close.”

His thumb brushes your knuckles, warm and rough, and the way he looks at you—it’s not friendly. It’s not even safe. It’s the kind of look you should never get from a man like him.

Especially not Joel.

Especially not your dad’s best friend.

“Not a mistake,” he repeats, holding your gaze like it’s something he’s waited years to say. “But maybe... something we should slow down on.”

You freeze.

That’s it. The out. The safe path. The “this-can’t-happen” speech you were half-expecting since the second your lips touched his. You nod, even though your stomach twists into knots.

“Right,” you murmur. “Because... it’s wrong.”

Joel exhales, but doesn’t let go of your hands.

“Not wrong,” he says. “Just complicated. You think I haven’t thought about this? About you? For longer than I should’ve?”

Your heart stutters in your chest.

“But you’re... you’re my dad’s friend,” you say, voice a little more broken than you’d like.

He nods. “Yeah. I am. Which is exactly why this scares the shit outta me.”

He leans back, breaking the touch. You feel the absence like a slap.

“I was there when you were just a kid,” he continues. “Watched you grow up. Watched you leave and come back with that New York mouth and attitude.” He smirks, then softens again. “And then I saw you. Really saw you. And it was like something shifted. I can’t pretend it didn’t.”

You sit with that. Let it echo.

“I don’t want to sneak around,” he says. “I don’t want this to be dirty. I want it to mean something. But if we’re gonna do anything, it has to be when I can look your dad in the eye and not feel like a bastard.”

You nod slowly.

“Okay,” you say. “So what do we do?”

Joel stands, runs a hand through his hair. “We take a step back. Cool off. You keep working at the stable. I keep my distance. And we try—really try—not to make this harder than it already is.”

You nod, even though every cell in your body is screaming no.

He walks you to the door.

And just before you leave, you turn.

“Joel?”

“Yeah?”

“If we’re stepping back… does that mean you’re not gonna kiss me again?”

He looks at you like he’s seconds from cracking.

Then he opens the door.

“Go,” he says, voice thick. “Before I do.”

You turn to leave, his words still lingering heavy in the air. Go, before I do.

And maybe you would’ve.

If he hadn’t said it like that. If he hadn’t looked at you like he was barely holding himself together. If the silence between you wasn’t so loud.

But then—he moves.

One step. A breath. And his hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back, pulling you in. And when he kisses you, it’s not soft. It’s not thoughtful. It’s hungry.

You gasp against his mouth as he pushes you back inside, slamming the door shut with his foot. His hands are on your waist, your face, your hips, everywhere, like he’s trying to memorize you with his palms.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” he mutters, dragging kisses along your jaw. “You knew what this would do to me.”

“Then stop,” you whisper, breathless, eyes wild. “Tell me to leave.”

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he lifts you effortlessly—strong arms under your thighs as he sets you down onto a wooden table near the entry, something solid and forgotten under the chaos. It creaks under your weight, but neither of you care. His hands slide up your shirt, calloused fingers brushing over your ribs, and your hips move without thinking, grinding down against him.

You’re still in your work clothes, smelling faintly of hay and sweat, and he’s still in those worn jeans that somehow make your mouth dry—but none of that matters.

You rock against each other, friction and frustration and years of “no” turning into a very loud, messy yes. His forehead rests against yours, his breath ragged.

“Goddamn,” he whispers. “You feel—fuck, I don’t even have words for it.”

But then, like someone flipped a switch, he stills. Hands tightening around your hips. Head turned like he’s listening to something only he can hear.

“Joel—”

“I think it’s best we slow down,” he says, voice hoarse, like dragging each word out of him hurts.

You blink, lips swollen. “No.”

He looks up at you, stunned.

“I don’t want to slow down,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, but no. I don’t want that.”

His jaw tenses. “Don’t be stubborn. I’m telling you—it’s what’s best.”

“For who?!” you snap. “You? My dad? Because it’s not for me. I’m not some clueless teenager, Joel. I’m twenty-four. Jesus fuck.”

He steps back, dragging a hand over his face.

“I’m not treating you like a child, for god’s sake,” he growls. “I’m just trying to be the responsible one here. Older, wiser—”

“Oh, fuck you,” you breathe, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him back in.

And that’s it.

Something in him snaps.

He kisses you again, this time rough, bruising, like the idea of not having you is unbearable. You’re tugging at his belt, his hand is under your shirt again, and it’s desperate, filthy, real. You knock something off the table and neither of you even glance down.

The table creaks with every movement.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers against your neck, even as his hand slips lower.

You don’t.

You bite his shoulder instead.

You’re both panting, lips swollen, your shirt halfway up your chest. The table beneath you groans like it's about to collapse, and Joel—god, Joel is everywhere—his hands gripping your hips, his thigh still pressed between your legs, his mouth moving along your collarbone like he’s starving.

But then he pulls back just long enough to mutter, “Not here.”

You barely have time to whine in protest before he’s lifting you off the table, strong hands under your thighs again, carrying you like you weigh nothing. You cling to his neck, noses brushing, and you’re both half-laughing, half-breathless.

The moment your back hits the couch cushions, the air shifts again. Less frantic. More focused.

He hovers over you for a second—hands braced on either side of your head, breathing hard, trying to hold onto the last shreds of whatever control he thinks he has left.

But your fingers are already tugging at his belt.

And he’s done pretending.

He sinks down onto the couch between your legs, his jeans rough against your thighs as you wrap yourself around him again. You rock together, slow and heavy, friction hot enough to burn. The layers between you are too much and not enough, and Joel’s eyes are locked on yours like you’re some goddamn miracle.

“You drive me crazy,” he murmurs against your lips.

“Good,” you whisper. “I want to.”

He grins, crooked and wild, and his hand slips under the waistband of your pants, dragging a moan out of you before you can stop it.

“Joel,” you gasp, arching into him.

“Shhh, I got you, baby,” he says, voice low and wrecked.

Your hips grinding up to meet his, his mouth at your neck, your fingers clawing at his back. He’s rutting against you like a man possessed, one arm behind your back to keep you pressed tight to him. Every little breath, every gasp, feels like a confession neither of you can take back.

The couch creaks. The same couch your dad has fallen asleep on a hundred times. Joel’s hand curls under your jaw, forcing your eyes on him.

“This what you want?” he rasps. “Me? Here?”

“Yes,” you breathe, voice wrecked. “You. All of you.”

He groans like that undoes him.

And it does.

He buries his face in your neck and you feel him press into you, slow, desperate, still fully clothed, still somehow more intimate than anything you’ve ever felt.

You don’t stop.

Not when the phone lights up with your dad’s name.

Not when Joel hesitates, staring at it like it’s a loaded gun.

And especially not when he answers it.

“Hey, man,” he says, voice tight, hoarse, one hand gripping your hip, the other holding the phone to his ear.

You’re already grinding down onto him, slow. So slow it’s cruel. You bite your lip to keep from moaning, every inch of him stretching you, pulsing inside you, and he’s trying to pretend like you’re not there—like he’s not inside you.

You kiss his neck. Drag your teeth along his jaw.

His free hand tightens on your hip, the other squeezing the phone until it creaks.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he says, voice strained, like he’s holding back a groan. “Just needed the day off.”

You roll your hips again, and this time he bucks up without meaning to. You both freeze.

He clears his throat.

You cover your mouth to stifle a laugh.

He shoots you a glare that makes your stomach flip.

“Uh-huh,” he says, listening, nodding like this is any normal conversation and not his best friend’s daughter riding his cock in his living room.

Your fingers slip under his shirt, nails dragging down his chest. You tighten around him, deliberately, and he chokes on his next breath.

You mouth, say it’s bad reception.

Joel blinks at you like he can’t believe you exist.

Then finally, mercifully, he coughs and says, “Shit—sorry, bad signal. I’ll call you later.”

Click.

He hangs up.

The silence that follows is heavy.

You’re still straddling him, still full of him, your fingers splayed on his chest. He’s breathing hard, his pupils blown wide, a flush crawling up his neck.

“What is wrong with you?” he growls. “You some kind of freak, fucking me while I’m on the phone with your dad?”

You freeze.

Eyes wide. Breath caught.

You can’t tell if he’s angry—or if this is just more of that Joel Miller brand of losing-control-in-real-time.

And then—

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in, kissing you hard.

Not angry.

Just wild.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he mutters against your mouth. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

You moan into his lips, grinding again.

“I want to,” you breathe, rocking deeper. “Let me.”

And then it’s chaos again—his hands on your ass, your legs tightening around him, mouths and skin and the slap of hips and heavy breathing as he fucks up into you like he’s desperate. Like he can’t help it. Like you’re his last goddamn chance at feeling alive.

The couch is rocking under you. His hands are everywhere. You’re close, both of you.

“Say it,” he growls into your ear, dragging you down harder. “Say who’s got you like this.”

“You, Joel,” you gasp. “You.”

He groans, like that’s the last thing holding him back—and then he’s gone, and you’re gone with him.

Joel’s head drops back, a groan ripped from his throat—deep, raw, wrecked—as he finds his release, clutching your hips tight enough to bruise. Ropes of cum fill your insides as you follow seconds later, your body arching into his, a trembling cry breaking from your lips, overwhelmed by the sheer feel of him, Joel feels the wetness before he sees it.

Joel pulls you closer, doesn’t pull out, doesn’t speak. He just rests his forehead against yours, eyes shut, as if anything more might shatter him.

“Christ,” he breathes. “You—”

But he doesn’t finish the sentence. Maybe he can’t.

You kiss his jaw, gently. And he holds you there, full of him, full of everything you both shouldn’t be feeling.

You’re both boneless and breathless, tangled up in silence on that cursed couch, he looks up at the ceiling and mutters, “I am so fucking dead.”

You laugh weakly, head against his shoulder.

“But at least you’ll die happy,” you whisper.

And he nods.

“Yeah. Real fuckin’ happy.”

You stay there.

Not moving. Not saying a word.

Your chest rises and falls slowly against his, your forehead resting near the hollow of his throat, where his pulse is still racing. You listen to it. Let it calm you down.

Joel’s hand is in your hair, fingers tangled and gentle now, like he’s afraid he’ll break you. Or maybe himself.

You press your nose to his skin, taking in the scent of him—woodsmoke and leather and sweat and something warm beneath it all that makes your eyes sting a little.

“How’s your face?” you ask softly.

He huffs a quiet laugh, the kind that rumbles in his chest.

“Well,” he says, rubbing his jaw, “you’ve got a strong arm, that’s for damn sure. Let’s hope I don’t bruise.”

You lift your head, frowning. “Joel.”

“I’m teasing, darlin’. Just caught me off guard.”

“I was trying to check the back door,” you mumble, cheeks hot. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t’a snuck up on you.”

He tips your chin up and looks at you, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. His thumb brushes your cheek, then traces down the side of your neck. He’s memorizing you—like if he does it slow enough, he can convince himself this is allowed.

“This is bad,” he mutters.

“Yeah,” you agree quietly. “Real bad.”

Neither of you move.

You’re still full of each other. Still too warm. Still buzzing.

But his hand doesn’t leave your skin. And your body doesn’t leave his.

You trace small shapes on his chest with your finger.

“Do you regret it?” you ask.

Joel doesn’t answer right away. He swallows, jaw tense, eyes fixed on the ceiling like it’ll hand him a better answer than the truth.

“I regret not being stronger,” he finally says. “But I don’t regret you.”

You close your eyes.

That’s enough. For now.

You stay like that a little longer, hearts beating in sync, sweat cooling on your skin, neither of you daring to move—because moving means it’s over. Moving means decisions.

The sun’s already started dipping when you finally drag yourself off him, reluctantly pulling your clothes back on. Joel stays seated on the couch, shirt half-buttoned, watching you like he doesn’t quite believe you’re real.

You smooth your shirt down, run fingers through your hair in front of the mirror, trying to look like you didn’t just commit a felony-level sin with your dad’s best friend on his living room couch.

Joel stands, moving slow like he’s sore—maybe he is. Maybe you both are.

He grabs his keys from the table. “I’ll walk you out.”

You nod, too quietly, pulling on your jacket. The silence between you is heavier than it was inside.

Outside, the air is cooler. Your bike leans against his porch rail. You walk toward it together, and he’s got that look on his face again—troubled. Careful. Too many things unsaid behind his eyes.

You grip the handlebars, but you don’t get on just yet.

“Are we gonna talk about this?” you ask, not looking at him.

“We should,” Joel says. Then adds, more quietly, “But I don’t think I can. Not tonight.”

You nod. Bite your lip. “Okay.”

He steps closer. Close enough that your arms brush. Close enough to smell him again. That same warm mix that clung to your skin earlier.

“You really gonna ride home lookin’ like that?” he asks, voice rough. “All flushed and fuckin’ glowing?”

You turn to him slowly, heart skipping a beat.

“You’re the one who made me look like this.”

“I know,” he murmurs, and there’s something like a growl beneath it.

His hand slips behind your neck again, fingers threading into your hair, pulling you in like he needs it—and this kiss is different. It’s not lusty or frenzied or greedy.

It’s aching.

Your fingers clutch his shirt, knuckles white.

He pulls away first. Barely.

“You need to go,” he whispers, breath hitching. “Before I drag you back in and we make worse mistakes.”

“I’d let you,” you whisper back, forehead pressed to his.

“I know.”

He kisses your cheek. Then your jaw. Then one last brush against your lips like a secret.

“Go.”

You swing your leg over the bike slowly, eyes never leaving his. You push off, start pedaling, heart pounding—and you don’t look back.

But you feel it.

His eyes on you the whole ride down the street.

Like he’s already regretting letting you go.

How are we feeling lads? I have to say I died midway when he's like who's got you like this. FUCK ME.

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