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munsonhoneybaby · 1 year

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Too Much in Common | Eddie Munson X F!Henderson!Reader

Summary: After Dustin brings Eddie home for a D&D campaign, you find yourself enjoying his company more frequently than expected.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, drug use (marijuana), smut, kinda automatic dubcon since they're both fried?, fingering, a lil praise, eddie’s just a lil obsessed

A/N: it hasn’t been explicitly stated yet but reader is adopted. hopefully i actually post a part two in a timely manner.

part two | finale | tmic masterlist

The rumbling of Eddie’s van ceased in the Hendersons’ driveway as he turned the key back in the ignition. He was surprised, however, when the metal thrum of a guitar continued despite his radio now being off. Opening his door, he recognized “N.I.B.” by Black Sabbath and realized it was coming from inside, making his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

He made his way to the front door, not bothering to knock beforehand since Dustin was expecting him and the kid’s mom wasn’t home. “Since when did you get a taste in music, Henderson?” He called over the music blaring from the sound system in the living room. A door around the corner slammed open much more forcefully than necessary and the aforementioned freshman barreled out of his bedroom.

“It’s my sister!” He shouted back. “She said I could have you guys over while Mom is gone if I didn’t bitch while she was in charge, but APPARENTLY THAT MEANS MAKING ME GO DEAF!”

Eddie could just barely make out your muttered “oh please” as you entered from the kitchen. You turned down the volume until the sound could be considered background noise. “If anyone here is gonna go deaf, it’s me from your constant shrieking.” Distressed jeans hugged the curve of your waist perfectly and the Poison t-shirt you had on looked soft from numerous wears. He tried not to stare, but he was sure he looked like a cartoon character– bugging, heart-shaped eyes and jaw hitting the floor. He almost missed it when you acknowledged him. “Munson. I heard you were still running Hellfire. Didn’t realize you’d be coming today.”

Oh fuck. You knew him. You knew him? How did you know him? Of course, you had gone to the same school, everybody in Hawkins did, but he would remember meeting a girl like you. Would you be upset with him for not knowing who you are? God, already embarrassing himself and he hasn’t even started talk–

“Relax,” You snorted. “I was a grade under you at Hawkins and I was homeschooled my senior year. We never talked, I wouldn’t expect you to remember me. I’m pretty sure everybody knows about you, though.” And this is when you tell him to get out of your house and stay away from your kid brother because he’s a drug-dealing, Satan-worshipping freak. “It’s nice you’re still running the D&D club, sounds like everything else there gets worse every year.”

Some of the tension in his muscles slipped away and he realized he’d been subtly bracing himself. “Oh–” The doorbell rang and Dustin ran to get it, welcoming in Mike and Lucas who were already amicably bickering louder than necessary. Behind them trailed the two others they had ridden with, Jeff and Gareth if you remembered correctly. They seemed a little uncomfortable holding a session in a new house, but relaxed drastically when they set eyes on Eddie. “Uh– you guys can go ahead down to the basement with the freshmeat. I’ll be down in a sec, alright?” They nodded, waving politely to you before following the boys.

When they were gone, you and Eddie locked eyes again. “Seriously, I’m glad Dusty has someone watching out for him. He takes more shit than he deserves. Just try to be a good role model, alright? If I find out you give that kid Special K or some shit, it’s fucking over for you. Got it?”

“I would never let anything bad happen to those kids when they’re with me,” He spoke earnestly. “I’m gonna look out for them. If I’m ever gonna do anything right, it’s that.”

“I believe you, Munson.” You gave him a small smile and nodded towards the basement door. “You should probably get going. They can’t start the game without their dungeon master, right?”

An embarrassed flush fought its way up his neck to his cheeks as you turned towards the hall where your bedroom was. Before you could get more than a couple of steps though, he gently grasped your wrist. “Hey uh, by the way– I just wanted you to know that I don’t really– I don’t do any hard stuff anymore. Haven’t in a while. I hardly even sell it anymore and I stopped selling to first-timers.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, don’t worry about it. I totally get it, I just wanted to let you know; for your peace of mind, I guess. You deserve to know who your baby brother’s hanging around with, I don’t want you to think I’m too bad an influence.”

“I don’t think you’re too bad, Munson. Just a healthy amount.” You gave his own wrist a small squeeze as you slipped your hand from his and finally went back to your own room. He gazed after you momentarily, even after your door had closed. If the guys were still present, they would definitely be giving him shit.

As if on cue, he heard Dustin’s muffled shout from the basement. “Eddie, hurry the hell up!”

You were sitting on the front porch swing lighting a joint when his beat-up van pulled up two nights later. “Seek & Destroy” poured from his cracked-open windows until his door opened and he set foot on your driveway once again. “He’s not here, y’know,” You called to him.

“That’s alright, I actually just needed to–” Eddie was halfway between you and his van when he caught a whiff of a particularly familiar scent. A shocked, teasing grin slowly spread across his face. “Henderson, are you smoking marijuana right now?”

In spite of yourself, you let out a laugh, coughing around a lungful of smoke in the process. “Say it a little louder, Munson, I don’t think the deafening Metallica got the neighbors’ attention.”

Laughing, he dropped into the space next to you on the swing. “I didn’t peg you for the smoking type.”

“Oh, you mean from the three minutes we interacted?” You squinted playfully but held the joint out to him. “Just weed, I don’t fuck with anything else personally.”

He took you up on the offer, calloused fingertips brushing your skin as he took the joint from you. Examining it for a moment, he smirked as he took a hit. “Fuckin’ with it pretty hard, apparently,” He breathed out. “You roll almost as good as I do.”

“Good, then you can roll the next one.” It passes between you as you speak, though Eddie tries to keep his turns short out of courtesy. “Which brings us back to the topic of why you’re here mooching my shit. You said you needed to do something?”

“Right, I uh- I forgot my lucky dice here the other night. I figured I’d pick ‘em up on my way home from The Hideout.”

“Oh yeah, you’re in a band or something, right?”

“Since middle school,” He nodded, “Just me and a few guys from school, s’called Corroded Coffin.”

“Sounds metal.”

“We try to,” He chuckled.

“You like Black Sabbath and Metallica, you’d better,” You teased. You didn’t notice the way his eyes followed your every move as you smoked. The way your cheeks hollowed ever so slightly as you sucked in a hit, how your breath hitched and your eyes fell closed as you held it in. The corners of his lips curled up in amusement watching you blow Os while conversation lulled for a moment. Offering him one last hit first, you stub out the roach on the ground and stand from your seat. “C’mon in, you can go get your dice.”

“Thanks,” He hummed, grabbing the door as soon as it was open to hold it for you.

“Have you eaten?” You ask, heading into the kitchen as he made his way toward the basement door. “I haven’t, I was gonna make a sandwich or something. You want one?”

“That’d be great, actually, thank you.” The dice weren’t hard to find seeing as he’d left them there on purpose. So maybe it was a little weird, definitely a little desperate, but he wanted to make sure he had another opportunity to see you– get his foot in the door, so to speak– and he really hadn’t expected all this. He’d hoped you’d be the one to answer the door and he’d get to make small talk for a few minutes, point out your shared taste in music maybe, but this? Catching you alone, sharing a joint, getting invited in for something to eat? This was going better than he could’ve possibly expected.

“Find ‘em?” You called down.

“Yup!” He jogged back up the stairs, waving the small velvet bag as he joined you in the kitchen. “All good.”

“What a relief. Can’t have the dungeon master thrown off his game, that would be a travesty.” You glanced up at him mischievously as you finished making the first sandwich, scooting the plate across the counter to him.

Eddie suppressed a smile, shaking his head as he picked up the sandwich. “You just love teasin’ me with that, don’t you?” He asked before he took what was probably an unattractively large bite.

“Depends on what kind of teasing we’re talking about, Munson.” You drawled casually in return, turning to continue making your own. Meanwhile, it was an effort just for him to keep his food in his mouth without choking on it. You were flirting with him.

Weren’t you? Maybe you weren’t. Maybe you’d meant it the other way around– that you’d only tease him in a joking way and that you’d never want to–

“Eddie, I can see the smoke coming out of your ears,” You snorted. “Stop thinking so hard, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” You took a big bite before grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge. “Want one?” His answer was going to be yes, but you were grabbing him one before he had responded anyway. There was a brief and fairly comfortable silence as you cleaned up the rest of your small mess and he took a few long swigs of his water. “Wanna finish these in my room? We could smoke another joint maybe…just chill out, I don’t know…”

“Yeah, totally,” He agreed, maybe a little too eagerly.

“You’re rolling though,” You remind him over your shoulder as he begins to follow you to your bedroom.

The door creaked as you opened it, waiting for him to enter after you so you could close it. As you opened the window wide and lit a stick of incense, he took in his surroundings. Your room wasn’t like the average teenage girl’s– not that Eddie had seen very many of those– not pastel-colored, or frilly, or covered in heartthrob posters, though a few stuffed animals were perched tenderly on your bed. Actually, it was almost more like his, albeit much more organized. There were posters of horror movies and rock bands filling a decent amount of the empty space on your walls, the Dio flag pinned to the ceiling drawing his attention. “Oh, that is so sick!”

“I thought you might like some ‘a this stuff,” You laughed softly. Nodding towards the stereo in the corner, you continued, “You can put something on if you want.” He squatted down to look through your cassettes, hearing your voice move through the room as you got out your bud, tray, and paper. “Try to keep it understated though, alright? Nothing too hard or fast right now.”

“Really tryin’ to mellow out tonight, huh?” He began playfully, but looked back at you as his tone softened a little. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, I’m alright,” You reassure. With the cassette in place, he made sure the volume was low before it began playing softly as you spoke. “I just get a little too pent up sometimes, you know? Everything’s just been kind of a lot lately, ‘s why I was already smoking when you showed up.”

“Hey, I can beat it if you want. I didn’t mean to show up outta the blue at a bad time and I definitely don’t have to stick around if you don’t want me here. I can totally get it if you want the time to yourself–”

“Please stay,” You quietly interrupted, then seemed a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t– I’d appreciate the company if you wanna stay a little while.”

Eddie gave you a comforting smile before taking a seat at your vanity to roll the joint, trying to lighten the mood. “Careful what you wish for, Henderson. I mean, you’ve got good music, good weed, made me dinner; I might be hangin’ around here more often with this kinda treatment. You’ve got me livin’ the life, babe.”

Laying down on your bed to watch him, your voice was more serious than he expected when you replied. “You’re welcome any time, you know. Mom likes when the house is busy and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Dustin practically worships the ground you walk on.” His rings glinted in the lamplight as he carefully sprinkled the bud onto the paper.

“Yeah? And what’s your review, hm?” You didn’t mean to stare at the way his lips wrapped around the joint or how his tongue traced the seam of the paper to seal it.

You hummed vaguely as he finished up, gently plucking it from between his fingers when he was done. Dramatically inspecting it much longer than he had yours, you finally say, “You roll clean joints.”

He shakes his head and laughs. Your lips close around the paper, feeling the seam still damp with his spit, and you jut your chin toward his lighter on the vanity. Grabbing it without a word, he leans forward to give you a light. Your gaze catches on his rings once more before lifting to his face again. A reflection of the flame makes the brown of his eyes warmer as they lock with yours, looking up from where you still lay on the bed on your stomach. You take a long pull as he draws the lighter away again and the spell is broken.

Sitting up to breathe the smoke in deeper, you tuck your knees under you. Eddie joins you on your bed, but not before he kicks off his shoes by the bedroom door. He sits cross-legged just in front of your pillows so you shuffle around to face him. “So, how was your concert?”

He snorted, “Concert might be a bit heavy. Gig is a little more accurate. Show maybe.”

You roll your eyes, but keep your tone light and pass the joint. “You’re a loser, you know that? You knew exactly what I was talking about, answer the question.”

“It was pretty good I guess,” He shrugged and took a long hit. “I think there may have been a whole seven people this time. And one of them was even sober!”

You smiled sympathetically, “You’re just in the wrong town. Don’t worry, I’ll come watch you play. I don’t know if that’d be a good atmosphere for the boys, but I could probably force Steve, Nancy, and Robin to come.

He twisted one of his rings around his finger for a moment. “That’s really nice, sweetheart.”

With each toke you both took, the joint burned slightly shorter until it was almost completely gone. “You want the last hit?” you asked. “I finished the last one. And you rolled this one anyway.”

“No, that’s alright. It’s your weed; I’m literally a drug dealer, I’ve got plenty at home.”

“Here,” You took one last long drag and he raised an eyebrow in confusion, but he understood when you sat up further on your knees and leaned toward him. A sense of giddy excitement overtook him for a second, nerves probably heightened from the weed, but he kept his composure. When your lips slotted over his, he took a deep breath in. His hand slid into your hair to keep your head steady as you sighed the smoke into his mouth. Your lips grazed over his afterward, very obviously lingering long after it was necessary. You giggled as you slumped down into a laying position, letting your head fall back into his lap.

“Seems like someone’s a lot more relaxed now,” He cooed playfully.

“Sorry, I can get off ‘f you–” He notices how your voice is slightly rougher after smoking so much.

“Hey, no–” His hands settle warmly over your shoulders, not holding you down so much as they were encouraging you to stay put. “It’s alright, baby. You can get comfy, you’re not bothering me.”

His hands soothed up and down your arms as you settled back in. “That feels really nice.” You hummed quietly and it drew out into another giggle, “Everything feels really nice.”

He laughs a little airily himself, “It does, doesn’t it?” Your skin felt so soft and warm beneath his fingertips, tracing imaginary shapes along the bare flesh of your arms. “‘M feelin’ pretty good, myself.” Your eyes couldn’t help but wander to his pretty pink lips again. They’d felt so soft against yours and you wanted more– to really feel him this time. His thumb brushes your chin, dragging down in a way that had your mouth opening slightly. “What’re you thinkin’ so hard about, sweet thing?”

Blinking up at him with glassy eyes, you raised an arm to brush your fingers over his flushed cheek. “Eddie, c’n you kiss me? Please?”

“Yeah?” He moved his thumb a bit higher to tug your lower lip down a bit, face dipping down a bit closer to yours. “That what you want?” You were nodding before he even finished his sentence, making him chuckle quietly.

He allowed his lips to graze teasingly over yours, just barely touching, before finally kissing you. His nose brushed your chin and you could feel the small smile adorning his face before your lower lip was sucked softly between his. Fingers winding into his mess of frizzy curls, you moaned quietly into his mouth and pulled him closer. After another moment though, he slowly drew back, lips separating from yours with a soft smack that made you unreasonably desperate for more.

An ache had sparked in his lower back while loading the amps into the van after their show earlier that evening, deepening as he proceeded to help load the rest of the equipment afterward. Now the deep curve he had molded it to in order to keep his mouth on yours had the pain radiating up his entire back. “As much as I’m enjoying this– and believe me, babe, I’m seriously enjoying it– my back is kinda killin’ me and hunching over you like this…” 95% of his brain was screaming at him to shut the fuck up, to ignore it and just keep kissing you breathless anyway, but the other 5% was crying out to lay down and he had to listen.

“Oh, sorry,” There was a slight pant in your voice as you released your grasp on his hair. He sat up slowly as if a movement too fast would shatter the calm in the air. You sat up yourself, watching as he eased himself back onto your pillows. “S’that better?”

“Way better,” He confirmed. “We can uh- we could keep kissing if you want.”

Openly cringing at how awkward that sounded, he opened his mouth to say something else before you interrupted him with a still-sluggish giggle. “I’d like that, Eddie.”

“Okay,” He nodded rapidly.

Leaning forward onto your hands and knees, you crawled into his lap. His hands instantly settled on your thighs, running up and down the material of your pajama pants. His eyes flickered wildly over your body a few times before gazing up at you in awe. You didn’t waste any time in kissing him again, which was much easier now that he wasn’t upside down. As you moaned into his mouth, his hands molded to your hips, squeezing and pulling you as tight to him as he could get you. His tongue slipped between your lips, making them open further as your hands found his hair once again.

He didn’t mean to start moving, slowly grinding into you in an attempt to relieve the tightness in his jeans that definitely wasn’t a problem before he came over— but then you were rocking down on him yourself, clothed cunt rubbing against him in a desperate search for friction. Hips rutting up into yours, he braced a palm against your lower back. You could feel his hardness pressing into you through the layers of clothing between you. Pulling back for air, you panted into his mouth, still subtly grinding against him. “Fuck,” He grunted quietly. The soft whimper of his name that you gave him in return made his head fall back against the wall with a thud. “Got me so fuckin’ hard, sweet thing. Please, don’t stop.”

“Don’t wanna stop,” You whined back quietly. “Feels so good.”

“Good,” He cooed. “Don’t worry, ‘m gonna keep makin’ you feel good.” Hot, open-mouthed kisses moved down your neck and you let out a moan. His fingers wormed their way past the hem of your shirt, tracing the cup of your bra. “This okay?” He mumbled against your skin. Nodding, you cupped his hand and guided it higher until he pushed your bra out of the way. The pad of his thumb brushed firmly over your nipple, making your hips jerk against his. “Mmm, so sensitive. Is that jus’ the weed or are you always like this?”

“Both,” You breathed out. “‘N you’re good at all this.”

“Aw you don’t have to butter me up, baby,” He grinned. “I’m gonna make you cum either way.” Free hand dipping past the waistband of your pajama pants, Eddie continued playfully, “But, go on. Keep tellin’ me how much I turn you on.”

“Eddie,” You pleaded, “C’mon.”

Fingers stroking the damp fabric of your underwear, he asked, “This okay? Really want me to touch you?” Your desperate nods made his lips curl, pressing more firmly against you and drawing out a moan that you tried to stifle. “No, no, no, you gotta tell me how it feels, sweet thing. We’re all alone, you can make those pretty noises, it’s okay.”

Your head slumped into the crook of his neck, mouthing lazily at his skin. Nudging your underwear to the side, he sank his middle finger knuckle-deep into you. Grasping tightly at the worn material of his t-shirt, your breath hitched. “Mmm, fuck– yes, Eddie, thank you.”

“Look at you, usin’ your manners ‘n everything. Of course, you would. Such a good girl.” Your moans only grew louder, making his hips jerk in search of friction. “So warm and wet, bet you’d feel so good around my cock.” Lifting your head to kiss him again, your hand found the shape of his length in his jeans. He rolled his thumb over your clit in circles as his hips rocked against your palm. Mouths open against each other’s, you exchanged panting breaths and muffled moans. Confined by your pants, his hand didn’t have much room for movement, leaving your hips stuttering frustratedly. “Lemme get these off’a you, babe. Can make you feel so much better than this.”

Suddenly, his hand was curled under your thigh and you let out a small squeal as you were flipped onto your back beneath him. Your pants and underwear were yanked down your legs feverishly, Eddie parting them to slip two fingers into you this time. “Shit, Eds!”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, was that too much?” Immediately, he tried to withdraw his hand, but you gripped his wrist to stop him.

“Don’t stop, Eddie. Please, don’t stop,” You rushed.

“Alright, sweetheart, ‘m right here. Don’t worry.” Your hands laced into his hair for stability as his fingers crooked into a spot that almost made your eyes cross. Already dripping onto your bedspread, you pulled him even closer to you. Smirk spreading across his face, he said, “Oh yeah. That’s the spot, huh, baby?”

“Fuck, Eddie, you’re gonna make me come,” You whined.

“Good, want you to soak my fingers.” His hips rocked forward, clothed cock grinding into the back of your thigh. “Wanna feel you come for me.” The way his thumb rubbed so firmly against your clit had heat shooting all the way to your toes. Desperately tugging him down for another kiss, your thighs trembled as they squeezed closed around his hand. “There it is,” He murmured lowly against your lips. “Mmm, you’d feel so fuckin’ good coming around my cock, sweet thing.” The deep cadence of his voice had you shaking.

Grasping at the back of his shirt, you buried your face in the crook of his neck. He held you in silence for a long moment until your head eventually dropped back against the bed. A smile slowly grew on your face as you looked up at him and you let out a small giggle, making him grin down at you. He laughed softly too as he pressed his forehead against yours.

Eyes darting shortly to the alarm clock on your nightstand, you did a double-take when you noticed how late it was. “Son of a bitch, my mom’s gonna be home any minute!” You grabbed your discarded underwear and pajama pants from the foot of the bed as soon as Eddie had peeled himself off of you. “Uh– fuck, I’m really sorry. I promise I didn’t mean to invite you in just for this, I just didn’t realize how late it got. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging, but–”

“Are you kidding?” He was already leaning against the wall by your door, slipping on his beat-up air forces. “I had a blast, babe. We should do this again sometime,” He winked teasingly.

You rolled your eyes half-heartedly, feeling your body warm. When the two of you reached the front door, you rubbed your arm and met his eyes only a bit awkwardly. “I’m sorry again about not…returning the favor.”

He chuckled, giving you a small smirk. “Don’t worry about me, sweet thing. After tonight, I’ll have no trouble taking care of it myself.” Taking a step closer to you, he leaned down for a kiss that was much slower and softer than the last few you’d shared. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Night, Eddie. Thanks for keeping me company tonight.”

“Anytime.”

You waited at the door until he’d gotten in his van and driven away before finally heading back to your room. As soon as you closed your bedroom door and flopped down on your bed, you heard your mom’s car pull into the driveway. Meanwhile, Eddie drove home, foot a little heavy on the gas pedal as he itched to get back to his own room.

He didn’t see you again for two weeks. He knew the Hendersons’ phone number, but there was no way he could ask for you if Dustin or your mom picked up. So he waited, very impatiently mind you, and hoped he hadn’t ruined things by going so far with you so fast.

When he did finally see you, it was at Hawkins High School. You’d come to pick Dustin up from that week’s Hellfire club meeting. You knocked on the door before entering, knowing that– despite the session being scheduled to end ten minutes ago– they often ran over their allotted time. Sure enough, you heard Eddie’s booming voice as you cracked open the door and slipped inside.

“And as the chimera flew closer–” When he noticed you he immediately straightened from his position looming over the table, clearing his throat and clasping his hands together behind his back. He didn’t want to scare you off with all this yet. “Okay gentlemen, that’s all for today.” The collective groan they let out had you feeling a bit guilty, they’d obviously been enjoying themselves, and now you were being the annoying big sister; you should’ve just waited in the car. But Eddie was quick to speak again. “Oh, cut the moaning. We’re almost fifteen minutes over and you all need more time to prepare for battle anyway. Amateurs.”

As the others all packed up their things, he approached you and you greeted him with a smile. “Sorry for interrupting, seemed pretty intense, I hope it wasn’t too important.”

“No, no, it’s good you came in. We would’ve been all caught up until someone else came in to stop us in a much less forgiving manner.” You both laughed and it went quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat again. “So uh, I’ve been hoping I’d see you around.”

“Yeah, me too… Smoking alone isn’t as fun anymore.”

His lips quirked up into a smirk and he nodded playfully. “Yeah, ‘ve been thinking the same. You should start buying from me, you know. I’ll give you a discount.”

“Oh, so I have to pay you to smoke with you again? You know, we used my shit last time,” You teased.

“You’ll never pay for anything you smoke when you’re with me, sweetheart. I’m a gentleman after all. Here, hang on.” He dashed back to the table, hunching over to write something down before tearing off the small scrap of paper and coming back to you. “Now you can get a hold ‘a me, come smoke all my weed anytime.”

“Oh, I’ll be taking you up on that.”

Your comfortable conversation was interrupted when Dustin shouted your name. “What’re you doing? Let’s go!”

“I’ll see you around, Munson.”

“Sure thing, Henderson.”

As you drove Dustin home, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was a bad idea to get involved with Eddie. He was one of Dustin’s best friends now, a mentor for him, one of the only male role models he’s had aside from Steve since he lost his father. The last thing you wanted was to make Dustin feel like you were taking that away from him. God forbid something should happen between you and Eddie and he doesn’t feel comfortable coming around anymore. You couldn’t do that to him.

Still, you found yourself hunkered over the phone in the living room that night. You tried to hold out, you really did, but you only managed to hold yourself back until almost midnight after your family had gone to bed. Coiling the cord around your finger, you waited impatiently as the phone rang three times.

When he finally picked up, you could hear the smirk in his tone. “Hi, sweet thing. Just couldn’t stay away, could you?”

“Well, I figured I was running low on bud anyway,” You drawled quietly.

“You’re awful quiet,” He teased. “Don’t want Mommy to catch you up on the phone so late?”

“Fuck off,” You scoffed playfully. “If you’re having so much trouble hearing me over the phone, why don’t you come over?”

“Oh, so she minds a phone call, but it’s okay if we have a sleepover?” He snorted.

“No, but if you’re quiet you can sneak in and back out before she wakes up to get ready for work. I’ve got twenty bucks calling your name,” You cooed enticingly.

“Seriously?”

"Come on, Munson, you've never climbed through a girl's window before? I'm disappointed."

He simply replied, "I'll be there in fifteen, make sure it's unlocked."

part two | finale | tmic masterlist

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#too much in common #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader smut #18+ mdni #eddie munson x f!reader smut #eddie munson x f!reader #stoner!reader #eddie munson x stoner!reader

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2hightocare · 5 months

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SWEET NOTHINGS ✷

Summary: You and Jungkook host thanksgiving dinner at your guys’ house, but Jungkook is head over heels in love with you.

pairing: husband!jungkook x wife!reader

warnings: pure fluff, jungkook is whipped, reader and jungkook are corny as hell, and a lot of curse words. A lot of kissing… a little bit of spanish. crying.

"Baby, what are you wearing? Are we going to match?" Your husband yells from upstairs, making you chuckle lightly. "I left your outfit hanging in the bathroom," you yell back while bending over, turning on the light of the oven where the turkey Jungkook added almost four hours ago stares back at you.

"Do I take the turkey out now, babe?" You yell for your husband upstairs to listen. "I don’t know; let me call my mom," he says. You jump, a small shriek leaving your lips as you put your hand over your heart and close your eyes.

"Fuck, you scared the shit outta me," a small chuckle slips past your mouth as Jungkook laughs with his head thrown back and dimples on full display.

"I’m so sorry, baby. I thought you heard me coming downstairs." His mouth adorned with a grin while slowly pulling you to him with his hands on your waist.

"Hi," you say as he kisses your lips.

"Hi, baby," he greets back, putting a loose piece of your hair behind your ear. "You look so beautiful," Jungkook gives you one more kiss before making you do a little spin for him.

Your brown long-sleeve off-shoulder mini dress matches his brown crewneck. His black jeans match your black stockings and black long boots you ended up stealing from your sister last time she visited. "You look sexy, so eatable I’m afraid." You look up at him with a big smile on your face before tiptoeing to give him a quick kiss before making your way back to the mashed potatoes you said you would do.

One thing about Jungkook is that he could stay mesmerized by your actions and words even if whatever you were doing was something so normal just like right now. The way your curled hair falls in front of your face, but with your hands occupied, you try to blow on it before trying to use your elbow to push it away, causing Jungkook to let out a chuckle, making his way to help you.

"I thought that was the reason you have a bow on, baby." Jungkook pushes both your long curtain bangs back to its place, securing it with the bow. "I’m not even going to ask how you were able to do that so fast," you throw a glare at Jungkook, making him burst into another laugh.

"Baby, I have to fix Ji-woo’s bows all the time." Jungkook laughs softly in the crook of your neck from behind, his hands wrapped around your waist.

Ji-woo being yours’ and Jungkook’s only goddaughter, and the only child in both of your families. You and Jungkook always brought up the topic of kids for it to always be shut down after seeing kids throw tantrums in tv shows or when going grocery shopping, which only ends with us looking at each other before shivering at the thought that one day that could be our future child.

The thought of having children it’s not completely shut down; you and Jungkook just feel like you guys will like to wait just a bit more before having a kid. Ji-woo and Bam were enough for you both.

You both sway to the song playing from the living room TV, coming from your ‘j🖤’ playlist.

"Did you ask your mom about the turkey?" You ask finally finishing smashing the potatoes, pushing the bowl to the center of the white counter where other dishes you made yesterday are gathered.

"Hm, texted her, and she said she was on her way," he murmurs from the crown of your head before finally letting go of you. "I have some to give you be right back," Jungkook makes his way to the garage door where both of your guys' cars are. As you wipe down the countertops and table, the door opens, making you look up, finding Jungkook holding the biggest flower bouquet you have ever seen.

A gasp leaves your mouth as you stare at the beautiful bright red roses. "Oh my god, baby, what?" Your lips pout as he kisses them and hands you the bouquet. "Fuck, this is heavy," you hold the flowers with both hands, the bouquet covering your entire face, making Jungkook chuckle. "Baby, I can’t even hug you to say thank you," you whine, feeling your eyes slightly water. You had always been so sensitive when it came to gestures Jungkook has done for you. That one time he took it upon himself to learn Spanish to be able to ask your parents in their native language for your hand in marriage, or the one time he took you to Paris on your one-year anniversary because you told him you always wished of going but never was able to due to your parents' financial issues.

"Baby, don’t cry," Jungkook quickly takes the flowers from your grip and puts them on the counter before cupping your face and blowing on your face, making you burst out laughing. Jungkook smiles while kissing your face.

"I just love you so much," you whisper all while he finishes kissing your closed eyes. "I love you so much more," Jungkook replies back before pulling you into a hug; you immediately melt into his warmth.

"I’m so seriously so in love with you," you say against his chest while he kisses the top of your head soothing you.

"And I'm in love with you," Jungkook says muffled against your hair; you stay there for a minute just feeling each other’s warmth and comfort while "Sweet Nothings" by Taylor Swift plays in the background.

"We’re so fucking corny, I swear," you joke, making both of you crack up until both your stomachs hurt.

"You had to ruin the moment huh?" He smirks at you before leaning down to leave a big fat kiss on your lips.

"I actually have one more thing, and I need you to close your eyes," Jungkook bites on his lip, his dimples showing. "Oh my god, are you serious? You just gave me around a hundred flowers, and there’s more?" Your mouth hangs open, earning another small laugh from Jungkook.

"Okay, no, for real though, close your eyes; I’ll be right back." Jungkook disappears again through the garage door. Not knowing what to expect, you close your eyes.

Funny how the butterflies and cartwheels your tummy still does even after all these years has you feeling so happy and thankful for the person you get to spend your whole life with.

The garage door opens, which makes you giddy like a teenage girl waiting for her crush to tell them they like them.

"Okay, open, baby." You open your eyes, your mouth drops open. "You’re fucking kidding, Jungkook."

You stare at the small white fluffy kitty with grey spots, that is laying comfortably in Jungkook’s arms. Your hands make their way to your mouth to conceal the small scream you want to let out. You had been begging Jungkook to let you get a cat for almost three months now.

Jungkook’s cheeks hurt from how hard he is smiling, looking down at you and how you softly caress it.

"What’s its name?" You look up at Jungkook, who is already looking at you with galaxies in his eyes. "You choose, baby, it’s yours." Jungkook places the small kitten into your arms. “Oh my fuck, it’s mine,” you squeal as the kitten looks up at you, making you melt even more.

“No mames” (you gotta be shitting me), you say in your native language, making Jungkook smile wider as he sees you struggle to find a name.

“It’s a boy, if that helps.” Jungkook leans against the counter, watching your every move, his heart swelling. “And if we named it ‘Bubbles’?” Your head snaps to Jungkook’s, waiting for his reaction to the name.

“I love that,” he scrunches his nose before nodding up and down. “Oh my god, I’m a mother,” you pick up Bubbles into the air, softly spinning around.

“Excuse you! You've been a mother, what about Bam!” Jungkook dramatically puts his hand on his heart, acting out like he just took a hit to the chest. “Stop! I love Bammy!” You defend yourself.

You make your way to your husband, kissing his lips over and over again, causing him to smile into your mouth. “Thank you so much, baby.” You thank him for the twelfth time before the doorbell to the entrance door rings. “Coming!” Jungkook yells, hoping whoever is outside heard.

…

As both of your families gather at the dining table, where we had to pull some chairs from outside so all eleven of us can eat around the table.

“Okay, so who’s going to start with what they are thankful for?” your sister says as her husband pokes her side, “I say you go first since you wanna share so bad,” your brother-in-law tells her, making everyone laugh.

Your sister scoffs before raising her wine glass to the air, then giving us a look to do the same, causing Jungkook’s mom to let out a small snort. “I’m thankful for all of you guys; you seriously make my days better by just opening the family group chat,” she jokes. “And I’m super thankful for everything I have accomplished this year, cheers!”

“Cheers!” Everyone clinks their glasses in the air, beside Ji-woo, who has her chubby fingers in her mouth, giggling along with whatever we’re saying.

The table goes around saying what they’re thankful for before stopping at Jungkook, his hand on your thigh squeezes before he starts.

“Okay, your turn, my love,” Jungkook’s mom says to Jungkook, who smiles at his mom. “Corny trigger warning, please!” Jung-hyun, Jungkook’s brother, jokes, which gets him a swat from his wife. “What the-“ Jung-hyun rubs the back of his head, staring agape at his wife. The table bursts into a fit of laughter.

“Okay, well, I wanted to start with thanking everybody for coming,” Jungkook starts off, making everyone say a small ‘you’re welcome’. “I’m super thankful for my family; I truly don’t know how I could’ve possibly turned out without you guys,” he continues. “I’m grateful for y/n’s family, my second family; thank you for welcoming me into your life, and god suegra, thank you for birthing y/n,” Jungkook rambles off, causing the biggest laugh to come out of everyone.

“And I’m so grateful for my wife,” his eyes find their way to yours, making you melt into your seat like putty; a bunch of collective ‘oohs’ come out of everyone’s mouth.

“I truly love you with everything in me, and I’m so grateful for you. Thank you for making me the happiest man ever since I met you. You’re literally the best thing that has ever been mine.” Jungkook finishes with a huge smile on his face. Your lip quivers, and your hands make their way to your eyes again, hoping the tears you’re holding in don’t come pouring. Everyone around the table claps and is in awe of you both.

“What’s with you making me cry today?” your hands flap in front of your face, like if that could help the tears blurring your vision.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Jungkook wipes the tears that fall down your eyes. “I love you so much I can’t-“ Jungkook shushes you with a small kiss and softly puts your loose hair strands behind your ear.

“Okay, enough lovey-dovey shit. I’m trying to eat!” Jung-hyun says, making everyone laugh as everyone starts digging into the food they put on their plates not so long ago.

Jungkook kisses the corner of your mouth before his fingers move to the gold ‘J’ necklace he got you years ago. Jungkook smiles to himself as his thumb moves across the letter. You pull him from his sweater until his ear is at the same level as your mouth before whispering.

“I love you, now eat.” Jungkook chuckles under his breath at your words before whispering back. “Yes, ma’am.” The hugest smile stays on everyone’s face the whole night.

A/n: hi omg this is my first ever fanfic I have posted, sorry if there’s some errors hope you enjoyed.🤍 (all of this is just fictional)

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #established relationship #married au #fluff #jjk #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #bts jungkook #bts fanfic

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 1 month

Text

{ soooo.... @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe reblogged ONE werewolf post and mentioned steddie in the tags and then... this... happened. It was all spur of the moment with no planning so if you see mistakes and/or plot holes... no you don't. 😬💖 }

Warnings: Billy Hargrove, blood, wound tending, violence, if it needs anymore let me know. ✌🏻

🍒🍒🍒

"I'm completely serious." Eddie says, feet kicked up on.... someone's coffee table. He doesn't remember who's party it is. Jeff nods agreeably next to him, sinking further into the couch.

"No. You've gotta be fucking joking. That would not-" Gareth tries to argue. Eddie cuts him off immediately.

"No seriously. I need a werewolf to take one look at me and go 'I'll have that.' Then claim me as their mate and never let me go." Eddie sighs, the hellfire boys erupting in chaos around him.

Normally, Eddie would join in, cause a ruckus. But he'd frozen after he'd spoken. His eyes glued to one Steve Harrington. Who had been taking a drink and promptly choked on said drink, his eyes wide when they landed on Eddie, beer or some other liquid dribbling down his chin as his cheeks flushed.

He was all the way in the kitchen, his friend Robin chattering away next to him, now wiping at his face. There's no way he could have heard Eddie. Not over the music, and the house full of shouting drunken teenagers.

Eddie watches as he finally tears his eyes away. He watches Steve grab Robin's wrist and yank her out of sight. If Eddie's lip reading was as good as it used to be, he'd said something along the lines of: "Robin. We need to go. Now."

But that didn't make any sense. Eddie was just joking. And Steve was all the way in the other room. Eddie sunk down into the couch, ignoring the way his stomach turned when he heard the front door open and close. There was no fucking way he heard him.

No fucking way.

Unless.

~°~

"Steve Harrington. Is not a werewolf. What the fuck are you even saying?" Gareth was nearly yelling now. They'd been having this conversation for almost an hour and it seemed he was at his wits end.

"Yes he is Gare! Yes he is! I would swear on it." Eddie shouts back, pointing at his friend from his position on the floor, his feet up on the couch next to Jeff. His toes wiggling under his arm every now and again to get warm.

"Swear on what!?" Gareth shrieked, his hands flailing into the air next to his head.

"Werewolves aren't real!" His voice is so squeaky now the neighbors dog has started barking.

"Jeff. Eric. You guys really not gonna help me with this?" He begs, holding his hands out to them, pleading.

"I mean..." Eric drawls, scratching at his ear.

"What?" Gareth asks, eyes narrowed.

"Maybe they are.... There was that thing with Chrissy." Eric says, his voice lilting as he looks in Jeff's direction.

"No. No no no no. We are not talking about that again either. Jeff did not see Chrissy Cunningham drinking blood." Gareth huffs, so frustrated now his face is turning red.

"I know what I saw." Jeff says with a shrug, his hand moving to Eddie's calf and rubbing it rapidly, trying to warm his cold leg for him. Eddie smiled at him and then looked back up at Gareth from the floor.

"He knows what he saw Gare. Chrissy is a fucking vampire. And Steve. Steve Harrington is a fucking werewolf. Possibly. The love of my life. Though that may be a tad unlikely. Given that he almost definitely doesn't like boys." Eddie pouts, and then startles when Gareth stomps over to look straight down at him.

"Oh is it? Is it unlikely because he doesn't like boys? Not because there's no such thing as FUCKING WEREWOLVES!?" Gareth full on yells it. His hands fisting in his hair.

"Gareth Eugene!" His mothers voice calls down the stairs.

"Sorry mom!" He yells back, turns on Jeff and Eddie when the laugh.

"It's not fucking funny. This is ridiculous. You're all ridiculous. It's not real. Fuck you guys." He hisses, keeping his voice low. Jeff and Eddie look at each other, then to Eric, all of them smile and shout,

"Gareth Eugene!" In unison. Gareth screams at them, tosses a few empty chip bags at them and throws himself into the emtpy chair next to Eric.

"You all sound, insane. You know that right?" He asks, sounding calm, and genuine again. Eddie shrugs, Eric laughs.

"Maybe you just need to open your mind?" Jeff suggests, brushing chip crumbs from his shirt.

"Open my mind? To vampires and werewolves?" He asks, arms crossed over his chest with a huff.

"Yes. Because if they exist. And mine and Jeff's crushes are one of each. Ugh. Shit." Eddie curses, his shoulder bumping the small table as he rights himself, slides his legs off the couch and kneels by the table instead.

"We could literally live our dreams." Eddie pleads, his fingers laced in front of him.

"Your dream. I don't have a dream about dating a vampire. Just dating Chrissy." He sighs, his eyes going glassy. Eddie waves him off, not even looking at him.

"I could literally live my dream. My dream of having a smoking hot werewolf boyfriend who wants to mark me and breed me and keep me forever." Eddie whines, Eric and Gareth both groaning at Eddie's details. Jeff gives no reaction, lost in his thoughts about Chrissy.

"You're crazy man. There are not secret supernatural creatures all over Hawkins. Is the whole basketball team werewolves? Is this fucking Teen Wolf? You think Steve is just gonna wolf out at the next game?" Gareth asks, his voice rising again. Eddie plops down onto his butt, elbows resting on the little table, chin in his hands.

"God that'd be great wouldn't it?" He sighs, eyes focusing over Eric's head like he can see it.

"Hey!" Gareth snaps his fingers in front of Eddie's face.

"Rude." Eddie swats at his hand.

"And who's next? Huh? Tommy and Carol? That dick Hargrove?" Gareth shoves a chip into his mouth chewing angrily. Eddie grimaces.

"Hargrove is not supernatural." Eddie shakes his head.

"He's a supernatural dick. Like... his asshole levels are way off the charts." Jeff chimes in, sinking to the floor next to Eddie and taking a swig of Eddie's mountain dew, Eddie nods in agreement.

"Yeah. He's definitely a peice of shit. But not in a supernatural way. Probably good. Honestly. Can you imagine?" Eddie's nose scrunches before he takes a drink as well. Even Gareth groans in agreement.

It's quiet for a moment. None of them talking. The occasional chip crunching or bag rustling, the pop of a soda can being opened. All of them just sitting, thinking, loudly, but in silence. And then Gareth breaks it, and his steadfast denial of it all.

"Okay. But seriously, if they're were vampires and werewolves in Hawkins we'd know about it! That's not something that could be kept secret." His voice is low now, his eyes moving over the boys around him.

"Is it?" He asks, looking slightly worried.

"I dunno. This town does have a long history of unexplained animal attacks." Eric chimes in, the three other heads in the room turn to look at him, slowly.

"What? I like history." He defends. They all go quiet again, for longer.

Eddie moving a few things here and there on the table. Jeff moving them right back just to frustrate him. Both of them slapping at each other. It devolves into a small wrestling match that Eddie wins by going completely limp on top of Jeff.

"Okay." Gareth breaks the silence again. Eddie and Jeff shuffle around, separating themselves from each other, ending up in the opposite spots as before, they notice, frown at each other, and then shrug, looking to Gareth again.

"Okay?" They ask, at the same time.

"Okay." Gareth nods, but holds his finger up at them. Their brows raised on their foreheads as they wait.

"But Steve Harrington. Is not cool enough. To be a fucking werewolf."

~°~

One week, three days, and ten hours later. The morning after the full moon. Eddie nearly hits Steve Harrington with his van.

Rain is pouring from the sky, his wipers on high, barely helping. He's heading for school, Wayne had sent him off on time after a nice plate of scrambled eggs and toast.

He didn't have any tests or quizzes today. And he'd actually remembered to do his homework. The morning was going well.

That's when the body appeared in the road just past his vision. He slammed on the breaks and had never been so happy that he'd been ripped off and over paid for new breakpads last month. The van skids to a halt, his headlights shining on the person, the naked person, in the road.

"What the fuck?" Eddie breathed. He slammed the van into park, grabbed the keys out, and jumped out into the pouring rain. He stopped, grabbed a blanket out of the back, that normally covered Gareth's drums when they traveled, and ran around the front of the van.

"Holy shit." Eddie felt like he'd been punched.

"Hi Eddie." Steve Harrington, naked, wet, waving up at him with a wiggly fingered wave, and holy shit was that blood.

"Is that blood?" Eddie blurts, his hands already shaking.

"Yeah." Steve says, like it's fine, like it's normal.

"Shit did I hit you?" Eddie falls to his knees, holds the blanet out to Steve. He eyes it, looks back to Eddie.

"You're naked." He says. Steve closes his eyes, sighs.

"Right. Thanks." He grabs the blanket, drags it around his waist as he tries to stand. The second he puts pressure on his leg he starts to fall again. Eddie ducks under his arm and catches him. Doing his best to ignore the way Steve's warm, wet, skin feels under his hands.

"Hospital?" He asks, helping Steve to the passenger door. Steve levels him with a look that tells him he should know better.

"Right. Okay. Sorry. Jeez. You just- You're bleeding kind of a lot dude." Eddie huffs, helps Steve into the van and grabs a towel from the glovebox.

His brows furrowed, he presses it to the very large fucking hole, in Steve's leg. He doesn't even flinch, his eyes locked on Eddie, and his slow, gentle movements. Steve's hand settling over his makes his whole body jerk.

"Thanks. I can do that." Steve says, softly. Eddie doesn't let go.

"You gotta put pressure on it." He says, eyes locked on the red seeping into the towel.

"I will." Steve nods, squeezes Eddie's wrist, trying to get his attention.

"Eddie?" He squeezes again, Eddies eyes move up his arm to his face.

"Yeah?" His eyes are wide.

"We gotta get outta here." Steve's own eyes widen, waiting for Eddie to understand. It doesn't take long. He whips his head around, trying to see into the trees around them, his hair completely soaked now, his bangs drooping into his eyes.

"Shit. Okay." He nods, turns back to Steve, hands over the towel to him and nods again.

"Okay. I got it." He says, not sure if he's talking to himself or Steve. Steve nods, fucking smiles, at him, and lets him shut the door.

Eddie runs around the van, jumps back in, starts her up, gets her turned around carefully, and drives.

"Did someone shoot you man?" Eddie asks after a moment, Steve groans as he presses the towel to his leg, hard, his knuckles going white.

"Yep. Sure did." Steve sounds... nonplussed. Like it's just, a normal fucking Tuesday. Which it isn't. It's very much not a normal Tuesday. Because Steve Harrington got shot. And now he's in Eddie's van bleeding. And besides all that it's fucking Friday.

Eddie's hands tense on the wheel, his own knckles white now as well. He's nodding. Just absently. His head knows Steve answered him, can't seem to from words to make his own answer just yet.

"You okay Eddie?" Steve asks, tugging the blanket around his waist more with his free hand. Eddie just keeps nodding.

"Where are you taking me?" Steve asks, seems to realize he wasn't going to get an answer to the previous question.

"Home." Is all Eddie says. He glances to his right, Steve's eyes are on him.

"Wayne'll know what to do. He'll help." Eddie nods, his eyes back on the road.

"He'll help." He says again, to no one in particular. Steve nods, bites his lip when pain shoots through his leg, doesn't quite manage to stiffle the groan of pain.

"Who fucking shot you Steve?" It's the first time he's used Steve's name, maybe ever, to his face at least. Steve snorts, it sounds like a laugh.

"Fucking Hargrove." He grunts, presses harder on his leg. Eddie's head whips to look at him, his wet hair slapping against his face.

"What? Shit. Really?" He asks, rapid fire. Steve closes his eyes and nods.

"Eyes on the road Ed's." Steve's lips turn up in a smile right before Eddie looks away, his eyes are still closed.

"Covered his scent somehow. I didn't smell him. Or hear him. Fucking asshole." Steve slams his fist against the dash, Eddie jumps, his whole body twitching, he refused to acknowledge the yelp that came out of his mouth.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Steve breathes deeply through his nose, like he's trying to stay calm.

"It's okay. I'd be pissed too if Billy Hargrove fucking shot me." Eddie says, quickly, the words falling out of his mouth faster than he can think them. Steve snorts again, and Eddie's sure he is laughing, as well as he can, through the pain.

"Wait, he drives that blue camero right?" Eddie asks, eyes locked on his rear view mirror.

"Yeah. Why?" Steve follows his gaze, then looks into the side mirror.

"Shit." He says, trying to sit up further, or turn around, or something.

"Put the seat back and lay down." Eddie says, his hand pointing across Steve's lap to the little lever on the side.

Steve does as he's told, the seat going nearly flat. Eddie reaches behind his seat and grabs his backpack, sets it genlty in Steve's lap. Anyone passing would just be able to see the top of it.

He pushes his tape back into the tapedeck and cranks the volume. His fingers drumming and his head bobbing to the music as Billy's car rumbles up behind them, fast. Eddie's lucky he even saw it at all in the rain.

He keeps his eyes forward, fingers drumming. Pretends not to notice Hargove's car pull along side him for a moment. He twitches his head to the side, does a double take and then scowls at him, motioning to the open road ahead of them. Clearly telling Hargrove to fucking pass him already.

He does. Flipping Eddie the bird as he goes. He does a u-turn in the middle of the road and speeds back past them, the water from his tires splashing across Eddie's windshield.

He flips the wipers back up and keeps his eyes on Billy's car until it disappears back into the rain. He grabs his bag off Steve's lap and sets it by his feet instead as Steve sits up with a groan. Pulling the lever again so the seat comes with him.

"That was pretty good." Steve sighs, leaning against the window. Eddie turns his music down.

"Don't sound so suprised. I sell drugs man. I have to act natural a lot. Plus, he almost ran me off the road last month, I was pretty sure he'd try and pass me anyway." Eddie shrugs, keeps both hands on the wheel and one eye on the road behind them.

"Why'd he shoot you?" Eddie asks, glancing at Steve and then back to the road. He'd swear Steve was smiling.

"Why do you think?" He asks, sounds tired. Eddie rolls to a stop at a four way, looks over at Steve, down to the towel on his leg soaked with blood. He pulls away slow, they're so close to home now, no need to draw attention.

"He doesn't know it's me, I don't think. Just that he shot a wolf. He's been trying since he got here. Hunting us." Steve sighs, readjustes himself in his seat again.

Eddie swallows, hard, his heart pounding. His knuckles flashing white again as he squeezes the steering wheel. He turns into Forest Hills, his foot that's not on the peddle is shaking now, his knee jumping and jerking.

He pulls up to the trailer slowly, cuts the lights and the engine, and turns slowly in his seat to face Steve.

"You're a werewolf." He exhales into the space between them.

"I'm a werewolf." Steve nods, gives him a pained, toothy, smile. Eddie nods back, keeps nodding, he's lost in it again. The nodding.

Steve's hand patting his cheek snaps him out of it. He jerks again, not used to being touched there, or anywhere, really. He sees Steve pull his hand back, swears he sees hurt in his eyes.

"Sorry. I know it's a lot. But I need to get this bullet out of my leg like, yesterday." Steve sighs, covers the hurt look with another pained smile.

"Right. Yeah. Of course. Hang tight." He pats Steve's knee genlty, hops out of the van, and yells for Wayne.

~°~

They get Steve inside no questions asked. Wayne carries him to the bathroom and sets him on the edge of the tub. Eddie grabs a pair of boxers from his drawer and brings them to Steve.

"Figured you don't wanna be naked while you do that." He shrugs. Steve shrugs back.

"I've done worse things naked." He says, a little smile on his lips. Eddie goes warm all over and nods, bumps into the door frame as he back out of the small room.

He watches Wayne roll his eyes at him. He shakes his head too, crossing his arms over his chest. Eddie mouths 'shut up'at him and goes to kitchen. Wayne walks up beside him while he tries to get Steve's blood out from under his nails.

"Hey." Wayne sets his hand on Eddie's shoulder, he twitches.

"You did good kid. Bringin him here." Wayne's voice is calm. Always calm with Eddie.

He's never heard the man yell, except maybe at the raccoons that live to dig through their trash and toss it all over the yard. Eddie swears he'd heard Wayne call them varmints once. But other than that, he's soft spoken, so different from Eddie's father. Eddie's grateful. Everyday.

"Yeah. He was just out in the road. I almost hit him." Eddie's lip wobbles and Wayne pulls him to his chest, his hand rubbing up and down Eddie's back.

"But you didn't. You stopped. And you saved him, sounds like, so..." he pulls back, cradles Eddie's face.

"Seems to me that's all that matters." He lifts his eyebrows, giving Eddie that look. Eddie nods, a little frantic, licks his lips, looks in the direction of the bathroom.

"Yeah. That's what matters." He nods again, wipes his hands on his shirt. Opens his mouth to thank his uncle when Steve calls his name.

"Go on. Go see to your boy." Wayne tilts his head in Steve's direction.

"Oh my god. He's not my- he can hear you." Eddie hiss/whispers at Wayne. He pulls his lips into his mouth, shrugs, looking like he could not be less sorry. Eddie hisses at him as he walks away, glaring. Wayne laughs behind him and starts a pot of coffee.

"You called?" Eddie teases when he gets to the bathroom, leans agaisnt the doorframe.

"You came." Steve teases back, his eyes locked on Eddie. Eddie flushes again, from head to fucking foot. He clears his throat, rubs at the back of his neck.

"Did you need something?" Eddie asks, his eyes on the floor now. He swears he hears Steve chuckle, but can't risk looking up to find a smiling, teasing Steve, he wouldn't survive it right now.

"Yeah. Two things actually. And you're not gonna like the second one." Eddie's eyes snap to Steve's face, he looks apologetic.

"What is it?" Eddie asks, shoving his hands into her pockets nervously.

"Well the first thing, I need you to call Jim Hopper. Tell him what happened. And that I'm here. And I'm safe. I am safe with you, right Eddie?" Steve looks up at him with wide eyes. Eddie nods, licks his lips, tries to do better.

"Yeah. Course. That thing, earlier? When you touched me. And I flinched." He jerks his head back, motioning behind him, into the past hour.

"That wasn't because of you and your- it wasn't cuz of that. I'm not afraid of you. I'm just not used to people touching me." Eddie babbles, knows that's probably not what Steve meant, probably not why he was asking if he was safe.

But that hurt look kept bouncing around Eddie's head and he had to say it, to tell him it wasn't because of Steve, any part of him. And it pays off, his babbling, for once, because Steve smiles, and his cheeks tint pink, and Eddie could look at that all day.

"Thanks." Steve mumbles, Eddie nods.

"Call Hopper. Got it. And the second thing?" He rocks up onto the balls of his feet and then back down, Steve looks up at him and grimaces.

"I need you to help hold this while I dig the bullet out." Steve taps the little homemade tourniquet he and Wayne had put together, resting right above the bullet wound. Eddie swallows, his throat suddenly very dry.

"O-okay." He stammers.

"Do you want Wayne to do it?" Steve asks, eyeing Eddie like he thinks he's gonna pass out. Eddie shakes his head, once to answer the question, and then again to clear it.

"Lemme go have Wayne call Hopper. And I'll be back. Should I bring more towels?" He asks, hand firmly planted on the doorframe as he leans into the bathroom, his eyes on the bloody towel in the sink.

"Maybe one more. And two glasses of water." Steve says, nods when Eddie does.

"What's the water for?" He asks, brow furrowed.

"To drink. Thought maybe you could use a glass too. I can hear your throat clicking from here." Steve teases, smiling again when Eddie nods frantically and ducks out of the bathroom.

"You can probably hear my throat clicking from across town." He mutters to himself, grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet.

"Not quite that far. Maybe a few blocks, if I really focus." Steve calls from the bathroom.

"Jesus Christ." Eddie mutters, hears Steve laugh. He shakes his head, fills the glasses, gives Wayne his instructions for Hopper, shoves a towel under his arm, and waddles carefully back to the bathroom, hands full.

"There ya go." Eddie hands him a glass, tries not to stare at his throat when Steve chugs it, startles when Steve looks at him and chugs half his own glass.

"Where should I..." he trails off, looking around the bathroom.

"On your knees." Steve points to the space next to him, Eddie obeys immediately, his knees hitting the floor hard. His bites his lip, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, using all his willpower to not look at Steve right now, in this moment.

"That was-"

"Don't. Just- please don't. I'm mortified, can we just..." Eddie waves his hand towards Steve's wounded thigh.

"Mhm. We can." He says, and Eddie swears he sounds like he's trying not to laugh. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Nothing wrong with obeying orders well." Steve says, his voice hushed as Eddie scoots closer. He freezes, his eyes finally looking up, Steve is staring at him. Eddie gulps, Steve's eyes drop to his throat and jump back up.

"Put your hands here." Steve guides him, shows him where to hold the tourniquet, how to pull but not too tight. His fingers move over the back of Eddie's hands, leaving the faintest tracks of blood on his skin as Steve whispers,

"Good boy." Against Eddie's ear.

"Jesus H Christ." Eddie shutters, his shoulders tensing.

"Sorry. Couldn't resist." And Steve fucking winks at him. Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs, Steve laughs, shakes his head, and then rolls his shoulders.

"You don't have to watch." Steve says, serious now. Eddie nods, but finds he can't look away.

Steve's hand rests on his thigh, as Eddie watches his nails grow dark, and long, and sharp. Thick claws now where his nails used to be. Eddie watches as Steve moves, presses his finger into the hole in his leg and digs. He shoves his thumb in along side it, blood blooms bewteen his fingers and Eddie tightens his hold.

The whimper Steve lets out is what draws Eddie's eyes away. Away from the claws and the blood. They land on Steve's face, his features pinched in pain. He grits his teeth and Eddie sees fangs, too sharp teeth filling Steve's mouth as he groans.

"Steve?" Eddie's voice is airy, his throat tight.

"I'm alright. Almost got it." Steve grunts through his teeth, his jaw clentched.

"Okay. Be careful." Eddie whispers. Steve snorts again, pulls his thumb and finger back out of the wound with a whine, something shiny held between them.

He sags, his body drooping with relief. He holds the bullet out, Eddie moves, slowly lets go of the tourniquet, and holds out his hand.

"Don't lose that." Steve cautions, pausing before he drops it into Eddie's palm. Eddie nods, drops it into the cup near his toothbrush and moves back to Steve's side.

"What now?" He asks, hands hovering, not sure where to land. Steve looks at him, hooks his fingers under the tourniquet and winks at Eddie again.

"Now. I heal." He slips the rags off his leg. Eddie watches as one small pulse of blood bubbles up out of the wound, and then he watches as the edges close, the skin knitting itself back together. Steve wipes a towel over his leg, clearing the blood, and the wound is gone.

"Holy shit." Eddie says, breathless. His eyes jump to Steve face and he smiles.

"You're amazing." He breathes, and then smiles wider when his cheeks tint pink again.

"Ya think so? Most people wouldn't agree." Steve says, but he's smiling too.

"Well most people are idiots. And objectively you're probably weird as shit. But I love weird shit." Eddie shrugs, rubs at his neck when Steve just stares at him, feels himself going red again and stands. Offers his hand to Steve, helps him to his feet. He stumbles forward, Eddie catches him with his hands on his waist, feels his cheeks go impossibly hotter.

"You're hearts always beating so fast. Is that cuz of me?" Steve whispers, his hand settling on Eddie's chest, right over his fluttering heart. Eddie swallows, manages a nod before his resolve leaves him and he steps away from Steve hastily.

"You can shower if you want. I'm gonna- I'll go find you some clean clothes." He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, bounces off the doorframe and bolts down the small hallway to his room.

He falls onto the edge of his bed, his legs wobbly, his chest aching, and his lungs somehow not pulling in enough air. He smiles when he hears the shower start, tries not to picture Steve in there showering. And shit, he forgot.

"The warm waters a little tricky. You gotta turn it all the way up and then lower it back down." He says, not too loud, wanting to know if Steve will hear him. He hears the tell squeak of the warm water handle and then Steve calls,

"Thanks!" Through the thin walls. Eddie bites his lip and falls back onto his bed, his head buzzing. He can't wait to tell Jeff. Oh, he sits up, thinking, he should ask about Chrissy. See if Jeff was right. All signs seem to be pointing that way.

He opens his mouth to ask when there's a knock at the door.An aggressive knock. More like someone pounding and trying to get in.

Eddie's up in a flash, but when he gets to the living room Wayne is near the door, his hand held out to Eddie, stopping him.

"It's not Hopper." Wayne mouths, and that's when Eddie sees the gun in his hand. Wayne's old shotgun. He'd only seen it once. When he turned 17, Wayne showed him where it was, and how to load and use it, in case of emergencies only.

Eddie's body tenses, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He can hear the shower running behind him. Hopes Steve is listening too.

"Open the door Munson! I know you've got him in there!" Hargove's taunting voice calls. A shiver runs down Eddie's spine, he shakes his head instinctively. He sees Wayne do the same. His uncle waves him down again, his palm held out towards Eddie, he lowers it slowly: stay calm. Eddie nods.

Wayne opens the door, keeps his shotgun hidden off to the side.

"Ain't nobody here but us. I think you should leave. We don't want any trouble." Wayne tells him calmly, his voice steady as he clicks the saftey off the gun in his hand. Eddie's breathing is shallow. He hears a snort from outside.

"Yeah right. You're Munson's. All you know is trouble. And you stepped in it big this time." Hargrove snarls.

"Now hand over that fuckin monster you got in there. And maybe I won't teach that little freak of yours a lesson for takin what's mine."

Eddie watches Wayne's knuckles go white where they're holding the door, watches the door shake as he grips it tight.

"Police are already on their way boy. You best be on yours before you get hurt." Wayne's voice is still calm. Too calm. Eddie's never heard him sound that way before. He can feel the anger just beneath the surface, his anger boils there too.

Wayne starts to say something else when Hargrove jumps forward, slams his body against the door, almost through it. Wayne stumbles backward, caught off guard just enough for Hargrove to get the drop on him. He grabs Wayne's arm, tugs him forward and headbutts him.

Eddie's stomach twists at the sound, as he watches Wayne fall to the floor. He knows he can't get to the gun. But Hargrove could. Doesn't seem to care about it though. His eyes land on Eddie, cold and empty, his jaw clenched. Eddie turns, makes for his bedroom. He feels Hargrove's hand slam down on his shoulder and screams.

"Steve help m-" Billy's knuckles slam into his cheek, he feels his lip split when his face hits the ground. Feels Hargrove move over him, and then away. His shadow there and then gone, quick as a flash. Eddie looks up, hears a low growl, and sees Hargrove against the wall, his feet almost a foot above the ground, Steve's clawed hand around his throat, holding him there.

His mouth is full of fangs again, his skin covered in fur now, not completely, just a thin layer, and his eyes seem to glow in the low light of the trailer. Eddie scrambles to his knees, hears another growl.

"Touch him again and I willl rip you apart." The words rumble deep in Steve's chest. Hargrove chokes and gags as Steve squeezes him tighter.

"Sounds like a great plan kid. But how bout you let me handle the rest huh?" A new voice. Eddie startles, tries too fast to turn and ends up on his back. Footsteps approach him and he's look up at Sheriff Hopper.

"You alright kid?" He asks, Eddie nods, his chest clenches.

"My uncle-"

"Already back on his feet kid. C'mon." Hopper extends his hand. Eddie takes it, lets the big man yank him to feet easily. Eddie suspects he may be a wolf himself. Or something else.

"Steve. Let him go." Hopper says, slow, like he's talking Steve down. He still has Hargrove against the wall, he's only wearing the boxers Eddie gave him. His skin is all skin again, but his claws are still out, his fangs pushing at his lips, his chest is heaving.

Eddie watches Hopper move toward him, Steve growls, low in his throat, Hargrove struggles as his fingers tighten, Hopper stops.

"Hey. Kid. I know. Alright. I get. He hurt your friend."

Another low growl, deeper, more feral, Steve's brow furrows.

"Oh. Shit. Okay." Hopper sighs, glances at Eddie.

"You're okay right?" He asks, leaning into Eddie's space a bit, Eddie thinks he sniffs him.

"Yeah. I'm okay. I'm good." Eddie nods, his eyes going back to Steve when Hopper's do.

"Your boys okay. Just a split lip. Nothin serious. He's okay." Hopper reassures, takes a few small steps forward. Steve twitches with each one. His grip on Hargrove's throat still tight.

"Steve I'm okay. You can let go now." Eddie tries. He watches the muscles in Steve's arm relax, but only a little. Eddie shakes his head, makes a decision. He steps forward, dodges Hopper when he reaches for him.

"Kid don't-"

"It's fine." Eddie dismisses. He walks up to Steve, gets close, Eddie moves his hand over his arm slowly, letting Steve feeling him.

"I'm right here. I'm okay." He soothes, fingers pressing into Steve's hot skin. But it works, his body relaxes, he loosens his hold on Hargrove, lets him slide down the wall til his feet touch the floor, but doesn't let go.

"Fuckin'... freak." Hargrove gasps, glaring at Eddie, eyes full of hate.

"Shut up." Eddie and Steve speak in unison, but Steve yanks him forward, then slams him back. His head hits the wall and Steve lets him go. He falls to floor, unconscious.

Steve turns to Eddie then, teeth too big for his mouth. His lips pushed out in a pout around his fangs, and he whines, his hand lifting to touch Eddie's lip, his claws receding back into his nails before his fingers touch Eddie.

He licks the blood from Eddie's lip off his fingers and then grabs for him, pulling him against his chest with a whine, clinging to him as he nuzzles into Eddie's neck. Eddie gulps, wraps his arms around Steve slowly, awkwardly, does his best to hold on. To soothe him.

Once Steve's calmed a bit he pulls back. Eddie looks down, Billy's body is gone. He turns to look behind him, Wayne and Hopper are sitting on the couch, watching some old movie. Eddie's brow furrows. How fucking long had Steve been holding onto him?

"Sorry. I didn't mean to, like, trap you." Steve clears his throat. Eddie turns back to him, he looks embarrassed. Eddie smiles, cups his cheek.

"It isn't a trap if it's somewhere I wanna be. Is it?" Steve looks uncertain for a moment, his eyes darting around Eddie's face, looking for something, Eddie's sure. He either finds, or doesn't, because he smiles so brightly it nearly blinds Eddie.

"Really?" He asks, his fingers twitching at his sides.

"Yeah. Kinda had a crush on you since like, fuckin forever. Seventh grade or something stupid." Eddie shrugs.

"Fifth grade." Wayne calls from the couch, Eddie rounds on him, he hadn't even looked away from the tv.

"Oh my god what does it matter! Bud out would you? I'm having a moment!" Eddie hisses, watches Wayne smile into his cup of coffee. He opens his mouth to snark some more but Steve's hand turning his face back to him stops him.

"Fifth grade?" Steve asks. Eddie rolls his eyes, sighs, nods.

"Yeah."

"Wha- Why?"

"You gave me a rock." Eddie huffs, bites into his lip.

"I gave you..." Steve gasps, his hands moving to Eddie's waist and tugging.

"I gave you a rock!" He says, excited. Eddie nods.

"I know. I was there." He rolls his eyes, teasing. Steve looks at him, for a long moment.

"Did you keep it?" He sounds so hopeful. Behind them, Wayne snorts and then clears his throat. Eddie groans, loud, and long. Wayne and Hopper both chuckle.

"Of course I kept it. I'm a big gay loser and a pretty boy gave me a rock. It's on my nightstand." Eddie admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat.

But then Steve is nuzzling against his cheek and he decides he doesn't care if he's a loser. That pretty boy was a werewolf, and apparently this werewolf thinks of Eddie as his. And he could definitely get used to that.

"You kept it." Steve hums, presses his nose into Eddie's throat and nearly fucking purrs with delight, his chest rumbling against Eddie's, making his heart flutter.

"Alright kid. We gotta get this sorted. Get that bullet. We'll get this delt with. And you can come back here and... well you can come back here. The rest is none of my business." Hopper declares, clapping his hands once, as he stands and moves to the door.

Steve pulls back, nods, and ducks back into the bathroom. Eddie brings him some clothes and then he's gone. Riding away in Hoppers cruiser, an unconscious Billy Hargrove in the backseat, bound and gagged, for good measure.

Wayne moves to stand beside him as he watches them drive away. His arm wraps around Eddie's shoulders and tugs him close.

"Rough day kid." Wayne says, giving him a squeeze.

"Yeah. Not all bad though." Eddie considers, drops his head on Wayne's shoulder.

"Definitely not. C'mon," Wayne gives his shoulder a pat.

"Let's get this house cleaned up before your boy gets back."

Eddie nods, follows him back inside, and starts cleaning. There's woodchips all over the hallway, Steve had shattered the door coming out to help Eddie and Wayne. Eddie suppresses a shiver at the thought.

But has trouble not thinking about the way Steve had been so mad because Billy had hurt him, hurt Eddie. Not his friend. He'd been mad about that word too. Not his friend. Just his.

Eddie swept the floor and tidied his room and let the feeling of being Steve's surround him. Let it fill his head and his chest. Let it lift him up off the floor, his body floating when he finally fell into bed to wait for Steve. His Steve.

~°~

Eddie wakes to gentle hands on his shoulder. He lets go of his pillow and rolls to find Steve, on his knees on the matress behind him. He scrambles to sitting, hands reaching for Steve, met with Steve's own out stretched hands.

"You came back." Eddie mumbles, still drowsy. Steve smiles, soft.

"Course I did. Nowhere else I'd rather be." He whispers, presses forward, his face so so close.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, Eddie feels his breath rush over his skin.

"You want too?" Eddie asks, because his brain still hasn't quite caught up, isn't sure this isn't just a dream.

"Eddie." Steve says name the way no one ever has, all longing and need, curled at the edges from exasperation.

"Yeah Steve?" Eddie's trembling now, his hands shaking in his lap. Steve takes them in his, like he can read Eddie's mind.

"I've wanted to kiss you for awhile now. Even before I heard what you said at that party." Steve whispers the last bit, his mouth curving into a smirk, his eyes twinkling. Eddie's own eyes widen and then squeeze shut as he groans, takes his hands from Steve's and hides his face.

"You did hear me. I knew it oh my goooodddd." He rolls onto his back, rolling side to side on the bed, bumping Steve with his thighs everytime he rolls toward him. The laugh Eddie's dramtics pull out of Steve is beautiful, it makes Eddie feel like flying.

He drops his hands to his stomach and looks up at Steve. Steve looks right back, his eyes soft, his mouth curved just so in a small smile.

"I wanna kiss you so bad Steve." Eddie admits, his fingers drumming on his stomach. Steve's nose scrunches.

"Yeah? You sure?" Eddie tilts his head, trying to read the sudden change in Steve. His confidence seeming to fail him.

"Did you think I would genuinely say no to you?" Eddie asks, pushing himself up to sitting, so he can see Steve better. Steve picks at a loose thread on Eddie sheet, lifts one shoulder, drops it again.

"Who the fuck could say no to you?" Eddie wonders aloud, just a breathed out question.

"Not everyone can love a monster." The words fall past Steve's lips with sadness, his voice thick with it. Eddie's heart aches for him.

"Hey. You're not a monster." Eddie shakes his head, Steve levels him with such a bitchy look, it nearly takes Eddie's breath away. He snorts and holds up his hands in surrender.

"Okay. Okay tech-... technically you- you are a monster." Eddie rests his hands on Steve's knees.

"Like in the, literal, old movie wolfman monster, definition. Then yes. Sure. You're a monster." Eddie shrugs, shakes Steve's knees until he's wobbling back and forth with Eddie.

"But that doesn't mean you're a monster." Eddie shakes his head.

"And hey, even if you are. You've come to the right place. Eddie Munson, monster fucker extraordinaire!" He does a little jazz hands display before pointing at himself. He can see Steve fighting a smile.

"I mean not that I've... fucked a monster... before..." he trails off, eyes on the ceiling, thinking. He snaps his fingers, points at Steve.

"But I am willing! And hopefully," he wiggles his fingers in Steve's direction,

"Able." He smiles awkwardly, his eyes dropping to Steve's crotch and then back up, his cheeks flushing when Steve raises his eyebrows at him.

"Willing and able. That's me." Eddie points both his thumbs at himself, Steve's lip twitches. Eddie clasps his hands in front of him.

"Please say something so I can stop talking." Eddie begs through a helpless breathy laugh. Steve drags his teeth over his lower lip and shakes his head slowly, moves closer, presses into Eddie's space.

"No... you're not gonna say anything? Or no... umm... wh- what did I say after that?" Eddie stammers as Steve keeps moving, one hand on Eddie's chest, pressing him back into the matress, the other ending up near Eddie's head, supporting Steve as he hovers over Eddie.

"I like when you talk." Steve says, tossing his leg over Eddie, sitting on his thighs. Eddie nods, feeling a little frantic.

"Oh well thats good. Cuz I'm notorious for not knowing when to shut the fuck up. Now being one of those times I fear. Pretty sure. My mouth literally will not stop moving." The nervous laugh that comes out of him just makes Steve smile more, but it's different, sharp at the edges. Eddie realizes what the look is and gulps, Steve leans over him, chest to chest now, nose to nose. He looks hungry.

"I'm almost certain I can find something that will shut you up." Steve fucking purrs, his finger dragging down over Eddie's lips, his hand moving to cup Eddie's cheek. Eddie's eyes flick down between them and then back up.

"I mean we gotta try right? There's gotta be somethin- mmphf! Mmmm." Steve kisses him, presses his lips to Eddie's like he's trying to swallow his words. Eddie hums into it, hands moving to Steve's neck, his shoulders, his back. His hands move everywhere, feather light touches, not sure where to land. Steve pulls back, rests his forehead against Eddie's.

"I really like you." He sighs, his eyes squeezed tight, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he takes. Eddie watches him, eyes closed, trying to stay calm.

"I really like you too. That's why I kept the rock. And the bird you drew me in seventh grade." Steve's eyes open, he looks down at Eddie, brow furrowing.

"And the poem you wrote freshman year, about wanting to be a wolf." Eddie leans up, presses his lips to Steve's forhead.

"Kinda cheated on that one didn't ya?" Eddie whispers, wraps his arms around Steve as he settles in his lap. Steve gasps when Eddie kisses down his neck.

"I kept the sweatshirt you gave me at the football game too.Sophomore year. It's tucked away in my closet." He kisses back up, eyes closing on a hum as Steve pushes his hands up under Eddie's shirt, needing to touch him.

"I used to take it out and just hold it. And smell it. But it stopped smelling like you. Years ago." Eddie breathes against his lips, Steve whimpers into his mouth.

"I like you so much." Eddie whispers, pressing a kiss to Steve's lips.

"You being a werewolf isn't gonna change that." He kisses Steve's cheeks, his left one twice, once for each freckle.

"If anything, it will make my feelings, monumentally stronger. Like it'll be disconcerting. It's gonna make people uncomfortable." He kisses Steve's eyelids as he laughs, squirms in Steve's arms when his hands work their way into the back of his pajama pants.

"I'm gonna be obsessed with you." Eddie whispers, kissing down Steve's nose and across his lips again. Steve whines again, chases his lips, Eddie puts two fingers across them, to shush him, groans when Steve pulls them into his mouth and sucks, his cheeks hollowing as he blinks at Eddie, eyes hooded and needy.

"Jesus okay. There's is- there is a 'but' coming." Eddie gasps, Steve smirks around his fingers but lets them go.

"What's the but?" Steve asks, pouting as he moves his hands up Eddie’s back again. Eddie snorts and kisses his cheek again.

"I just-" he stops, takes a deep breath. His stomach twisting. He feels Steve's hand on his chest and opens his eyes, Steve tilts his head like a puppy.

"Your hearts beating fast again." He says, quiet, like he's talking to himself.

"I'm nervous." Eddie says, straight to the point. Steve tilts his head the other way.

"Nervous to be with me?" Steve's thumb soothes over Eddie's chest, through his shirt.

"Nervous cuz- I've never done this." Eddie bites his lip.

"I kinda figured you were a virgin ya know." Steve shrugs, noses at Eddie's neck. Eddie puts his hands on Steve's chest and pushes him back genlty.

"Umm... excuse me?" Eddie scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

"What? Virgins smell different." Steve says, like it's a normal thing to say.

"Ew. What? Why?" Eddie asks, his fingers tangling in Steve shirt as he laughs, his arms winding around him and pulling him closer.

"Dunno. Never asked. It's just true. You smell so good anyway but that part," Steve shivers, looks down at him.

"It's just sweet. You smell sweet." Steve smiles down at him, kisses his cheek, runs his fingers over the spot after.

"Okay well, that's all... a lot of information. But what I meeeeant," Eddie drawls, poking Steve in the chest.

"Is that I've never been in a relationship before. Like, not a real one. Not like this. And I'm just scared I guess. Cuz you're like, a fucking dream." Eddie sighs, Steve smiles.

"And I have a very long history of categorically fucking up everything good that happens to me. And I don't wanna do that here. With you. I want-" Eddie frowns, Steve moves, pulls them to the bed and rolls them, so they're facing each other.

"What do you want?" Steve asks, his fingers moving over Eddie's forhead, soothing the frown and then moving into his hair.

"I want you. I want to keep you." Eddie worries at his lip, Steve moves his thumb over it, drags it from between Eddie's teeth and soothes over the hurt.

"I wanna keep you too. We don't have to do anything right now. I just needed to be with you. After today." Steve says, shrugs his shoulder and curls closer.

"We can just- do this? Just be together?" Eddie asks, hesitant, his eyes falling closed as Steve hums,

"Mhm. We can just hold each other." Steve moves his fingers deeper into Eddie's hair, pulls him to his chest. Eddie clings to him, arms wrapped tight, hears that fucking rumble in Steve's chest again.

"Are you actually purring or does it just sound like it?" Eddie mumbles sleepily into Steve's chest. He feels him laugh, feels him pull Eddie impossibly closer.

"Hopper refuses to call it that. But I like it. I've only done it once before today though." Steve sighs, Eddie perks up, rests his chin on his arms and looks at Steve.

"When was the other time?" Eddie asks, eyes blinking slowly. Steve reaches up, tucks Eddie's hair behind his ear.

"With my friend Robin. You know her. From band." Eddie nods. Steve nods back.

"Yeah well. I came out to her last year and she was so excited, and happy, and accepting. She made me a cake. I mean it was terrible. But she made it just for me." Steve laughs, Eddie smiles down at him, waiting for more.

"And after, she told me she was proud of me. And that she loved me. And that's when it happened. I think it happens when you find your people. Like, my wolf just knows, when it's right." Steve's eyes won't stay on him, and he looks nervous again.

"She's like your platonic soulmate huh?" Eddie asks, pushing his finger around Steve's chest, drawing little nothings here and there. But he feels the tension leave Steve, feels him relax underneath him.

"Yeah. She is." He nods, eyes locked on Eddie now, his are shining with tears. Eddie nods, scoots a little closer, further up Steve's chest.

"I have one too. Jeff. He's in Hellfire with me. We're like two trippy peas in a far out pod." Steve scrunches his nose, lifts his head and kisses Eddie, sweet and soft.

"Thanks for understanding." Steve breathes.

"Sure. Give me enough time and I can understand anything. That ones easy though. I'm glad you have someone like that too." Eddie drops back down onto Steve's chest, gets comfy.

An hour later Steve manhandles him onto his side and presses up against his back, arms wrapped around Eddie like vines, keeping him close. Eddie shivers at being tossed around, even more at being held like he's something precious. He feels Steve smirk into his neck, feels that rumble again.

He smiles into Steve's arm, presses his lips to his skin and lets himself fall asleep, feeling loved, and wanted, and like he belongs to someone.

~°~

Eddie finds out later that Jeff was right. Chrissy absolutely is a vampire. And a good friend of Steve's. Eddie, Steve, and Robin may or may not parent trap them into several ridiculous situations before Chrissy finally tells them her and Jeff have been dating for almost three weeks now.

Eddie swears he knew. Steve can hear him lying. But let's him have it anyway. Robin refuses to let it go and constantly claims that the first time she meddled was three weeks ago which means she got them together which means she wins the bet.

Eddie remains unaware that there was even an actual bet going on. He just thought they were trying to make their friends happy. Steve can hear him telling the truth, and loves him for it.

Steve holds Eddie close almost every night, so so glad he heard Eddie talking at that party. And so so glad he'd told Robin, two weeks before that party, that he was gonna ask Eddie out. That he wanted to keep him forever.

She'd made fun of him of course. Eddie Munson? Really? But Steve had pressed on. Something about that sweet smell drawing him in.

And even after Steve claims him. Even after Eddie is his and no one elses. To Steve, he still smells so sweet, like the first rain of spring. Likes Steve's favorite fruit. Like Steve's. Like home.

#my writing #mine #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #this got so fucking long oh myyyyy goooodddd #I hope you like it friend!!!#im gonna take a nap now! be back in several hours!!!!#werewolf steve harrington #also a side of #jeff x chrissy #my fic

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 6 months

Text

Honey Girl. Chapter Five.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - Does absence make the heart grow fonder, or does it just make everything ten times more difficult?

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. angst. mention of illness.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.7k

Author's Note - it's here!! as always, I can't thank you enough for your love, support and patience with this fic. us writers lead busy lives, and i've been trying my hardest to find the time to write whenever I can, so it means so much that you guys stick with me - even when things take longer than expected. love you all. you're angels. please feel free to spam my inbox with thoughts and suggestions - it always makes my day when you're all so passionate. mwah.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

The sand is warm beneath your feet, cooling breeze cascading across your skin. The waves caress the shore in repetitive motions, lulling you into calm.

Sunlight beaming down, you shield your eyes and look up, sighing in contentment at the shades of blue that paint the sky.

A shriek and a laugh come from somewhere on your right. You look over and see a couple and their toddler running after each other, sprinting down the beach and into the ocean. The little girl can't stop giggling, tripping over her own feet as she chases her parents. Something tugs at your heart, deep and visceral.

It's been three months since you left home.

It's been three months since you saw Bucky.

He calls every few days, trying to give you the space you need while also keeping in touch. You have to resist the urge to call him every ten minutes. It's an improvement, at least. It was five minutes when you first moved.

He texts you good morning and goodnight everyday without fail, just to let you know he's there. You can't sleep until you get his text. It's like a lullaby, reassuring and soothing. Like a chamomile tea, warming and calming you from the inside out.

You think about him the most at night time. Your days are spent running around preparing for the bakery. Testing, retesting, writing up recipes, measuring out quantities. You want it to be perfect.

The baking is taking your mind off Bucky, for the moment at least. You've thrown yourself into your new role, eager and excited. Stella's ecstatic to have you around. You love that you're still just as close as you were, despite the time apart. Friendships like that are rare.

Lacie calls you most nights. She demands to know what you did that day, who you spoke to, what you made. It's like therapy, sitting and decompressing together over videochat. She's a lifeline, whether she knows it or not.

And of course, the most supportive people in your life - your parents. Your Mom is desperate to come and visit, begging that you let her know when you're less busy so you can show her around. She loves the sunshine just as much as you. A woman after your own heart.

On the nights when the doubt creeps in, unwelcome and dark, you remind yourself how lucky you are. Surrounded by people who adore you, support you, love you unconditionally. And then the night doesn't seem so dark. The light pours through the cracks.

You walk home from the beach, warmed and carried by the knowledge of love.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"This is ridiculous."

Stella's perched on the edge of your countertop, blush pink macaron in her hand.

"Good ridiculous?"

She scoffs, looking at you incredulously.

"Where did your confidence go? You never doubted yourself in school. Yes, good ridiculous. It shouldn't work, but it does."

Shouldn't work, but it does. Seems to be the story of your life at the moment.

"I need these on the menu."

"You don't think they're a little... pretentious? My best seller is a chocolate chip cookie. A honey and rosewater macaron isn't exactly a childhood favourite."

"Babe. That's the beauty of this. You can put whatever the hell you want out in your bakery. So what if they're unconventional? They're delicious. That's all that matters."

"Okay. Fine."

You relent, thinking about her earlier question. Where did your confidence go? When you graduated culinary school, you never doubted your abilities. Your technique, your flavours, your presentation - you had full faith in all of it. Now, you seem to be second guessing yourself.

You know it's because of your Tethering.

Before, you understood how the world worked. Good, bad, in between. Love, lust, the very clear difference between the two. You watched as other people found their forever person, and acknowledged their new journey.

And then you found Bucky. Or, Bucky found you.

Suddenly, the world you'd lived in before no longer made sense. The people, the places, the relationships, all impacted by the way you feel about your soulmate. Everything, everyone, everywhere, reminds you of Bucky. You're experiencing emotions you've never felt before. It's disorientating, confusing, complex. Your understanding of the world has changed completely.

It takes time to adjust.

No one ever talks about the way your Tethering turns your life upside down.

For some, it's completely positive. They enjoy the uprooting, revel in the change.

For others, it's a huge adaptation. One filled with tears, and confusion, and doubts.

Both are valid. Both are understandable.

You remind yourself of this every day.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"There's someone in the café that wants to speak to you."

The youngest waitress, Isabel, stands in the kitchen doorway, looking at you hopefully. You set down your piping bag and wash your hands, talking to her over your shoulder.

"Who is it?"

"No idea. Some guy. He's kinda hot. Brown hair, tall, beard."

Your heart skips a beat, breath caught in your lungs. Bucky jokes sometimes about coming to see you, but would he just show up announced? Do you want him to?

You can't feel it in your chest, you realise suddenly. You can't feel the ease, the relief, the knowing. Maybe being apart for so long has weakened your connection. The thought makes you strangely emotional.

You inhale carefully and thank her, before making your way out. It's almost closing time, and there's no one around other than the man stood with his back to you.

He turns around, and you realise quickly that your hope was misplaced. You've never seen this person before. He is handsome, admittedly. But he's not your soulmate.

"Hi."

"Hey. Are you the baker here?"

"I am."

He holds out his hand for you to shake, stepping closer.

"I'm Rafael."

You tell him your name, and he smiles, nodding.

"Forgive me if this is weird, but I had to meet you. To thank you properly, in person."

You don't say anything, so he continues.

"Let me, uh, explain. Sorry, should have started with that. My sister is sick. She's going through treatment currently, and it's been super hard on her. She's had no appetite whatsoever, and she's losing weight rapidly."

He takes a deep breath before continuing.

"A couple of weeks ago, I picked up a load of stuff from this place because my Mom was coming to visit. My sister tried your earl grey and lavender cookie, and ate the entire thing. It was the first time I've seen her eat for weeks. So, I came back and bought basically all of them every day."

You laugh, coming to a realisation. You wondered why those cookies were selling so well all of a sudden.

"I just wanted to say thank you. It might not seem like a big deal, but it's really huge for us. I also wanted to explain why all of those cookies were suddenly going missing at like ten in the morning."

You gesture at him to sit, the both of you taking a seat at one of the tables nearby.

You talk for almost an hour, listening intently to Rafael as he tells you about his family. He moved to California to be with his sister Maria when she got sick, no one else around to care for her. He asks about yours, and you tell him about your parents and their constant encouragement. He's also interested in how you got into baking, so you tell him all about culinary school, and the dreams your Grandma gave you when you were a kid.

"You're really talented, you know."

"I bet you say that to all of the bakers around here. But thank you."

His fingers brush yours where they're resting on the table, making you shiver.

"I'll make Maria her own box, if you like. I'll leave them behind the counter, just tell Isabel who you are."

"You'd do that for her?"

"Of course," you smile. "The idea that I'm helping someone with my silly little creations makes me really happy. We can work out a schedule, and I'll make sure I bake Maria some extras when I do my usual batch."

"You're incredible. Seriously. Thank you."

He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. The two of you are sat in the café as the sun sets, orange glow illuminating the room. You didn't expect to make a friend today. You're glad you have.

"Well, I should probably go and clean up the kitchen. You know where to find me, if you need anything. It was lovely to meet you, Rafael."

He rises when you do, smiling at you earnestly.

"You too. Nice to finally put a face to the cookie, so to speak."

You chuckle and show him out of the door, waving as he walks down the street. Suddenly, he turns around, striding back towards you.

"I'm so sorry if this is forward, and please feel free to say no, but... are you single? If you are, I'd love to ask you to dinner sometime."

The answer to that question is much more complicated than Rafael could ever imagine. So instead, you say,

"I'm not. I'm Tethered, actually."

His brows raise in surprise, but he's smiling.

"You are?"

"Yeah, I am. He doesn't live here, though. He lives back home, where my parents are."

"You guys are married?"

"No! Not yet. It's, uh... a complex... situation."

"Ah," he says, gentle, knowing look on his face. "I thought Tetherings weren't meant to be complex. Isn't that the whole point? That they're easy?"

You laugh, but it's not malicious. You're thinking about how sweetly naive he is, how he's got a huge storm coming his way one day.

"He's my Dad's best friend."

You're not sure why you're admitting this to a man you met an hour and a half ago, but you are. It's almost a relief, to get it off your chest again - to tell someone who's completely neutral, who doesn't know either of you.

"Woah."

"Yeah."

"That... is complicated."

"Yeah," you chuckle. "Understatement of the century."

Rafael leans against the wall, watching you intently. He's curious.

"How did your parents react?"

"They don't know yet."

His eyebrows raise almost comically high.

"Wait, what? How did you hide that? I thought it was supposed to be impossible to hide that you're Tethered. Although, I guess I had no idea, seeing as I asked you out."

"We wanted to figure it out for ourselves first, before telling anyone. And then I moved out here, so we're doing long distance. Like I said, complex."

"Understatement of the century," he laughs.

You look at each other for a moment, before he smiles.

"I'm sorry I asked you out. I wouldn't have, if I'd known."

"Please, don't apologise. I admire your... courage?" you grin. "And I appreciate you coming to see me today. I have like two friends here in Cali, so it's nice to feel like I've made another."

He smiles again, wider this time. Someone's going to be lucky to be Tethered to him one day, you think.

"I know it might surprise you, given my good looks and... courage," he chuckles, "but I don't have many friends out here either. I've been so focused on Maria, I haven't had time to socialise."

"The Universe works in funny ways, huh?"

"Sure does."

You wander back through the door, ready to close up for good this time.

"I'll see you tomorrow, for the cookies. And I'd love to meet Maria one day, if she's up for it."

"I'm sure she'd love to meet you. I'll bring her by."

"Thanks, Rafael."

"Of course. Thank you."

"Of course."

That night, when your Mom calls, you get to tell her you've made a new friend. That makes the both of you very happy.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You're testing out a recipe in the kitchen of your new apartment when your phone rings.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey, kiddo. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I am, actually. I'm settling in."

"Good, I'm glad. I don't wanna keep you on the phone for too long, but I wanted to ask you something."

"Go ahead, Dad. Anything."

"How would you feel about surprising your Mom for her birthday?"

"What kind of surprise?"

"I know you haven't been gone all that long, and I know it's kind of last minute, but, I was thinking you could come back to... be her gift? She really misses you, you know."

"I miss her too," you say softly, trying to keep your voice even. "I'll talk to Stella, see if we can figure something out. I'd really love to see you guys."

"We'd really love to see you too, sweetheart."

"I'll call you back later, when I've organised everything. Love you, Dad. See you soon, hopefully."

"Love you, kiddo. Proud of you, you know."

"I know," you smile. "I know."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The journey always seems shorter when you know you're going home.

You make it back in record time, salty ocean breeze whipping through your hair as you cruise along the roads. You take a deep breath and sigh it out, relief filling your lungs. It's good to be back.

You can't let your Mom see you, so you head straight back to your apartment. Your Dad told you they're in the process of renting it out, but they haven't made much progress yet. For now, it's still yours.

You inhale the familiar scent, smiling gently. There's something so particular about the way a place smells when you feel like you belong there. It's like home and comfort and ease all rolled into one.

You unpack a little, folding your clothes and tucking them into the dresser. You told Stella you'd probably stay a few days, wanting to spend as much time with your family as possible. You're rifling through the refrigerator and thinking about a grocery list when there's a knock at your door.

You know who it is.

A feeling of relief washes over your body, tension melting from your shoulders. Your lungs fill easier, your breath falls deeper, everything is a little brighter, a little more colourful.

You open the door to be met with the sight of Bucky Barnes.

He's in work pants and a white t shirt that's stained with grease and oil, heavy boots on his feet. He must have come straight from the Garage.

He looks at you carefully, as if he isn't sure that you're real. You rake your eyes over his form, trying to drink him in. All the pictures you've taken and saved don't do him justice.

He exhales, beaming grin appearing on his face.

"You're here."

You can't help but smile back, his happiness spreading through you.

"I'm here."

Bucky rushes forward and scoops you into his arms, enveloping you completely. He wraps himself around you as he tucks you into his chest, his grip tight and unrelenting. You breathe him in, overwhelmed with emotion and sensation. You didn't realise how much you needed this. Three months is too long.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, slight shake in his voice. He's holding off tears. So are you.

"My Dad wanted me to surprise my Mom for her birthday. It's all a secret."

He smiles, before leaning down to capture your lips in a knee buckling kiss. A kiss that says I missed you. A kiss that says I need you. A kiss that says please don't leave me again.

"How did you know?" you whisper when you pull away for air.

"I felt it. I think I knew the moment you arrived back in town. Thought my mind was playing tricks on me, for a second. But there's no mistaking that feeling. I had to come and see for myself."

"We're getting pretty good at this whole soulmate thing, huh?" you laugh, unaware of the tears running down your face. "I missed you, Buck. So much."

"I missed you too," he murmurs, kissing you again. "Didn't think I was going to survive, some days."

"Me too. Do you know how many times I stood with my car keys in my hand, ready to drive back to you?"

He chuckles and then sniffles, emotion dripping down his cheeks.

"I did exactly the same thing. So many times."

You wrap your arms around his middle, reveling in the way he smells like gasoline and home.

"How long are you here for?" he murmurs, worried he'll disturb the peace.

"I'm not sure. A good few days, at least."

"Okay," he breathes. "I can do a few days. We can do a few days."

"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't know, to be honest. It was all kinda last minute."

"It's okay, pretty thing," he mutters into your hair. "It was a nice surprise."

"You're coming tonight, right? To my Mom's party?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

You stay wrapped up in each other for a little while longer, savouring his warmth. He rubs absentminded patterns across the skin of your back, committing the softness of it to his memory.

"I should probably get back to work. I took off with no warning."

"You're the boss. You're allowed," you chuckle.

He laughs with you, and the sound lights up your nerves, illuminates your bones. It settles itself in the hollows of your ribcage, tangles itself in your heartstrings. It's like medicine.

"Can't wait to see you tonight," you whisper. "Wear something cute."

"I always do," he winks, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Miss you already."

"Miss you more."

He looks at you, smiling.

"Man, we're the worst."

"Truly."

He kisses you once, twice, three times before finally leaving, reluctant to let you go. You spend the rest of the afternoon floating on air, relaxed and at ease. You haven't felt like this in a while.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Your Dad sneaks you into the house through the side door, hiding you in the kitchen as he ushers your Mom through to the back yard.

It's decorated with floral garlands and streamers, flowers in vases covering the table he's set up. The golden, warm fairy lights illuminate the space, keeping it soft and intimate. He's been watching, carefully observing the way that she does things. He's recreated her party style perfectly.

There's a few of her closest friends waiting for her, gifts littering the spare chairs. Your Dad walks her outside, hands covering her eyes.

"Surprise!"

You watch through the door as your Mom gasps, grin on her face.

"Oh my God! You guys!"

She runs into your Dad, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I can't believe you managed to pull this off," she says in disbelief.

He sets her back down on the ground and kisses her gently.

"I got you something. I hope you like it."

That's your cue. You sneak out as quietly as possible, standing behind her.

"Happy Birthday, Mama."

She whips around to face you, shock written across her face. Her eyes well up, tears threatening to spill. Yours do the same, bottom lip quivering.

She throws her arms around you, tugging you into her.

"I'm so happy you're here, baby girl. I missed you so much."

"Missed you. You look beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you! Look at you, all sun kissed and glowy. You look so pretty, sweetheart."

You grin at her and she does the same back, your Dad beaming at your identical smiles.

"You're the best gift I've ever received. Then and now."

You're overwhelmed, suddenly, by the realisation that no matter what happens, no matter what life throws at you, no matter how many miles are between you - your Mom will always be in your corner. Your Dad will always be in your corner. Bucky will always be in your corner.

You think, for a moment, that despite everything, you might just be okay.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The night goes off without a hitch.

You drink, you laugh, you sing. You and your Mom dance to ABBA, Bowie, Donna Summer. Your Dad joins in, and can't help but grin every time he watches his girls together.

What a life, he thinks. I'm the luckiest man in the world.

When everyone gets a little past tipsy, your Mom changes the music to something slower, jazzier, richer. Your Dad pulls her into his chest, holding her close as they move to the melody. You're sat at the table taking off your heels when Bucky slides into the seat next to you. He pulls your foot into his lap and undoes the strap, sliding the shoe off gently. He rubs his thumb into your sole, smirking when you groan.

"Have you been avoiding me tonight, pretty baby?"

His cheeks are flushed slightly, top few buttons of his shirt open. He's been drinking a little, his walls lowered more than usual.

"I have to."

"Oh yeah?"

"I feel like I'm gonna burst into flames every time you look at me," you whisper. "I kinda want to rip your clothes off, baby."

He groans at the nickname. You know exactly what you're doing.

"It only takes one look for a minute too long to figure out how I feel about you, Buck. They'll work it all out instantly."

"Dance with me," he murmurs suddenly. "Your parents are too busy staring into each others eyes. Come on, honey. One dance."

His big blue eyes bore into yours, and you know you're fucked. You're never going to be able to say no to him.

"One dance," you whisper.

He takes your hand and leads you to the decked area, brightened by the golden lights. Bucky slides a hand over your back, resting there carefully. You intertwine your fingers with his and step into him, embracing the warmth that rolls off his body.

I'll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday begins to play, and the two of you start to sway gently, eyes never leaving each others. Bucky pulls you in closer, and you melt into him. You don't care about the repercussions anymore.

Maybe it's the wine talking. Maybe it's something else.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"That was close!"

Your Mom's giggling as your Dad holds her, having just saved her from tripping down the front steps. Everyone's giddy, both from drinking and from laughing.

"Sweetheart. Bucky. Come back for lunch tomorrow. Your Dad ordered too much catering, and we need help eating it."

"Mama, are you sure?"

"I want to see you as much as possible before you go, babygirl. You too, Buck. I feel like we don't see you as much as we used to."

"He'll be there," you reply before he can protest. "We'll carpool, and I'll bring a strawberry and cream tart that I made for you."

She kisses you on the cheek, your Dad leaning in to kiss the other side.

"Love you both."

"Love you," they say in unison, laughing and yelling jinx. "Get home safe, you two!"

"I'll take care of her," Bucky chuckles. "Always."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Why don't you see my parents much anymore?"

You and Buck are walking home along the sandy coastal path, fingers intertwined and sides pressed together. You look up at him, frowning slightly when he hesitates.

"Don't lie to me, James. I can feel it, remember."

You place a hand on your chest to remind him, and he nods.

"It's not the same here without you."

You weren't expecting the sincerity. It knocks you off balance a little.

You stop when you reach a wooden bench, sitting down and pulling him with you.

"So you're isolating yourself from the people who love you?"

He smiles, sadness rife in his eyes. Your tough guy act is crumbling.

"Not on purpose. It just kinda happened."

"You promised you'd talk to me, Buck. Especially if it got too hard. You need to accept support from people, or everything is going to come crashing down."

"I know. I know. But every time I go to their house, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I go to the beach, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I walk past your building, I'm expecting you to be there, waiting for me to pick you up. Even when I'm sailing, I can't stop thinking about that day we spent on the boat."

"The other day I had to make three batches of buttercream, because I messed up the first two. I was so distracted thinking about you that I split them both."

He laughs, then, wholehearted and genuine. You can't help but join him, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.

"Bucky, you have to promise that you'll keep going, even without me. You have to see my Mom and Dad like you used to, you have to still sail and go to the beach. You can't put your life on hold for me."

He takes a deep breath, sliding an arm around your shoulders to pull you in closer.

"Okay. I promise."

You whip your head around to look at him.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that, honey. You're right. I've been waiting for you to come back, so I can start living again. But life is still happening, whether you're here or not."

"Wise words, wise man," you smile. "Not a minute goes by where I don't think of you. You know that, don't you?"

"I know. I feel it."

You watch as he brings your linked hands to his chest, placing them there. You rest your head on his shoulder, lulled into calm by the steady melody of his heart. You swear it beats to the rhythm of your name.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The two of you can't bear the idea of separating, so Buck comes home with you.

"Have you got a blanket?" he asks as he's kicking off his shoes.

"I have. What for?"

"The couch."

You process for a moment before it clicks.

"You're not sleeping on the couch, Buck."

"No?"

"No. I want your ridiculous, radiator-like body heat in bed with me."

He smiles, all giddy and lopsided, before striding across the room to you. Cradling your face in his rough hands, he kisses you with fervour. He's making up for lost time.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling, smirking when he groans. He retaliates by grabbing your ass and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you through to your bedroom, lips never leaving yours.

Throwing you down onto the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head, watching you hungrily as you do the same with your dress. You're left in your underwear, leaving little to the imagination.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "Makes me want to cry."

You reach for him as he settles on top of you, your hand sliding along his stubbled cheek.

"I'm so glad you're feeling what I'm feeling," you whisper. "I'd think I was going insane otherwise."

Bucky kisses you again, before trailing his lips across your jaw, your ear, your neck. He's careful not to leave any marks, as much as he wants to. You glide your hands along the expanse of his shoulders, his back, his biceps. He's so strong, so broad. It makes you ache.

"So fuckin' pretty," he mumbles against your chest. "Like a goddamn dream."

You throw your head back as he attaches his mouth to your tits, nipping and sucking as he goes. Your hands are in his hair again, reveling in the way his groans vibrate through you.

Bucky slots his knee in between your legs as he kisses across your chest, smirking when you grind your hips into it. You chase the friction as best you can, moaning when it hits you just right.

"Needy baby. You don't want my fingers? My mouth? No? Just my knee?"

You nod, then shake your head. You're not sure what you're asking for, drunk on him already.

"Please, Buck. Anything."

"I'll give you whatever you want if you keep saying my name like that."

He makes quick work of pulling your underwear down your legs, swiping his fingers through your wet heat.

"Oh, fuck," he chokes. "Fuck, honey. Is this all for me? Hmm?"

"Yes, yes, yes."

"Yeah?"

"It's yours, Buck. I'm yours."

Bucky drops his head forward, bumping your nose with his.

"I think that's my favourite thing you've ever said," he mumbles against your mouth.

You reach up to kiss him, sucking his tongue before biting at his lips. You can't get close enough. Every inch of your skin is pressed to his, and you still want more.

Bucky crawls down the bed, situating himself between your legs. He nudges at you with his nose before diving in, lapping at you like a man starved.

You'd forgotten what people said about sex when you're Tethered, but it all comes back to you now. Everything is heightened, your senses on overdrive. It's like Bucky has the handbook to your body, and all he has to do is read the instructions the Universe has given him.

He's got you teetering on the edge in no time, right on the precipice. No ones ever made you feel like this. It feels like some sort of small miracle is happening, an otherworldly connection.

"Give it to me, honey baby," he murmurs into you. "Let me see how pretty you look when you come."

You tug at his hair as you reach your climax, the vibrations of his groan only prolonging your release. Bucky helps you ride it out, only ceasing his action when he's satisfied you're satisfied.

He rests his head against your thigh and looks up at you as you come down, breathing heavily.

"You good?"

"So good," you grin. "Never better."

"Me neither," he whispers, crawling up your body to kiss you again. You taste yourself and whine, desperate to feel closer to him.

"Need you," you demand against his lips. "Need you more than anything."

"I know, baby," he soothes as he smooths the hair back from your face. "Gonna give you everything you want. Anything in the world."

You're on the verge of tears again, completely overwhelmed. He's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. You think maybe you would, if he asked you to.

Bucky slides home in one gentle thrust, easy as breathing. The both of you exhale, savouring the moment. It's like nothing either of you have ever felt before.

You pull his face down to you, resting your foreheads against each other.

"Buck, I-"

"I know," he breathes. "Fuck, I know."

"Need you to move, baby."

He nods and kisses you sweetly, before pulling his hips back and gliding forward. The angle is just right, both of you keening.

"Fuck, honey. So pretty. So tight. Fuck."

Bucky sets a steady rhythm, not too fast, not too slow. It's like he can read your mind, knowing exactly what you need. All you can say is his name as stars cloud your vision.

He slides his hand down your front, rubbing perfect circles on your clit with his fingers. You clamp down on him and he groans, low and gutteral.

"Need you to come, pretty baby," he whispers hoarsely. "Please. Waited so long for this. Please."

The desperation in his tone is what throws you into your release, muscles tensing and back arched. You grip his biceps, scratching your nails into his sun kissed skin.

Bucky can't hold on any longer, falling over the edge with you. The way he says your name as he does will be ingrained in your mind forever.

He drops his weight onto you entirely, no longer able to hold himself up. You wrap your arms around him, drawing absent minded patterns across his back. You're both sweating and panting. You're both completely content.

"Holy shit," he whispers after a while.

"You think it's gonna be like that every time?" you ask, grinning.

Bucky rolls off you and lands on the bed beside you, pulling you into his chest.

"Honey, just you wait. I've got moves you've never seen."

You snort, unable to hold in your laughter. You're floating on cloud nine, satiated and warm.

"You're the worst," you giggle, running your fingers over his abs gently.

The two of you stay intertwined for hours, enjoying the way your bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. You both drift in and out of sleep, conversing in the gaps. At some points, you just lay in silence, completely comfortable. No one needs to say anything. You both know what the other person is thinking.

Eventually, the sun rises, casting the room in a golden orange glow. Bucky looks like an angel, illuminated by the morning light. You wonder for a second if he is, sent down as a gift to you.

Suddenly, you feel an intense sadness in your chest. You look up at Bucky from where you lay across him, and see a single tear drip down his cheek.

"I don't want you to go."

The only sound that can be heard is his sorrow hitting the pillow.

"I don't think I want to go."

He strokes your hair softly, taking a deep breath to try and get a handle on his emotions.

"You have to, baby. It's your dream."

Your bottom lip wobbles for a second, before the words come spilling out.

"You're my dream."

Bucky sniffles, and you continue.

"I could have nothing, but I have everything if I have you."

You sit up and Bucky does too, capturing your lips in a tear stained kiss.

"We'll be okay, my honey girl."

You crawl into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his warmth bleed into your bones.

"I know," you say, unsure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.

You know you'll be okay. It just doesn't feel like it right now.

You wonder how many times you can keep leaving and coming back before one of your hearts breaks for good.

tag list part one

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pupkashi · 6 months

Text

“satoru put me down!”

“cmon sweetheart you know I’d never drop you,” he grins, effortlessly walking to the middle of the living room with you in his arms, “hold on tight ‘kay?” he smiles, watching as your eyes grow wide.

“wh-” you’re cut off by your own shriek as the wind around you whooshes, and you feel like you’re free falling for a second before you open your eyes again.

“whoa!” satoru cries, letting go of you for only a moment, enough to make your grip around him tighten and your eyes to screw shut again, “kidding!” he giggles, holding you tighter to his chest and placing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“i thought i was gonna die!” you cry out, wiggling out of his grip and finally standing on solid ground, a new found gratitude for the floor as you cross your arms over your chest. “I am never doing that again,” you mumble.

satoru pouts at you, groaning a bit as he pulls you into his chest. “cmon baby it wasn’t so bad! you got to be carried by me the whole time!” the cocky grin on his face turns into a sheepish one when you smack his chest repeatedly. “and no traffic!”

“you almost dropped me!” you fight back, trying your best to not smile at the white haired sorcerer, “i saw my life flash before my eyes” you frown.

“technically i only pretended to drop you,” he corrects, but the look in your eyes has him standing up a bit straighter, “not that it matters, i should have never done that and i should definitely repent for my wrong doings.”

he hangs his head low, as he lets out a sigh, “please find it in your kind, beautiful heart to forgive me, my love.” you can’t help as the smile breaks onto your face, shoving him slightly. satoru is quick to lift his head, a charming smile on his lips as he looking at you through the bangs tickling his eyes.

“i guess i can forgive you,” you sigh dramatically, “just this once, next time you’re done for.” satoru nods happily, pulling you into his arms and kissing your face.

just as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek, he’s moving to your ear, his breath sending a chill down your spine as he speaks up. “just for the record, I’d never let you get hurt.”

your mind is a bit hazy as he straightens out, mumbling something about there being a better view across town. you’re only snapped out of your daze when you feel his arms lifting you up, eyes wide as you realize what’s happening.

“gojo don’t you-!” the air is whooshing around you once more, and the familiar drop of your stomach has you shrieking and gripping onto your lover tighter than before.

“calling me gojo now?” he pouts, giggling when you smack him and force him to put you down. “look,” he points, watching as you turn around, mouth agape as you take in the view ahead.

you could see the whole skyline from where you stood, the sunset painting the city in hues of red, oranges and yellows. “okay, maybe it’s a little worth it,” you whisper, giggling as satoru pulls you into his chest. “it’s so pretty up here.”

satoru doesn’t take his eyes off you as he hums in agreement, “beautiful,” he replies, a smile growing on his face as you shove him.

he doesn’t care, giggling uncontrollably when he sweeps you off your feet again, laughing when you shriek as he pretends to lose grip again, apologizing in kisses and setting you down.

masterlist

a/n: hi hi just another sweet little something while i finish writing this paper due tonight </3 i hope u guys liked it :3

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

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msgexymunson · 8 months

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Sammy's Mom

Description: Eddie Munson finds it difficult to get over his fantasies about you, his best friend's mom. He tries so hard to keep it in check. The only problem? Sammy's mom has got it going on.

A/N: kind of a little nod to the song "Stacey's Mom" (which is 20 years old now BTW, so if you remember it it's time to take aspirin for your back pain), I've written too much older Eddie in my time so trying to balance it out, as I've given him far too much rizz! And his friend is called Sammy as I've watched a lot of Supernatural recently. Please comment and reblog if you enjoy this my sweethearts.

Warnings: where do I start lmao, NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll slap you with a wet fish, age gap, Eddie's 21, reader is early 40s, MILF reader, reader referred to as 'Mrs F' a few times no first name given, perv Eddie, voyeurism, male masturbation, very slight foot fetish (nothing actually happens), oral both male and female receiving, p in v unprotected sex, slight anal play, cum eating.

10.5k words

Masterlist

"UNCLE EDDIE!!"

Johnny's little six year old voice rings out like a bell in the front yard. You look out the window and see him running as fast as his little legs could carry him towards a young man getting out of a beat up van.

"Hey Squirt!" Crouching to his knees, he accepts your kids embrace, then stands with him, swinging him around in the air as Johnny shrieks uncontrollably, unbridled joy brimming from his chest. The next minute he's got Johnny on his shoulders, walking around the house to the back yard.

You smile at their antics, warmed at the gesture. Eddie has always been good with your youngest son when he comes to visit Sammy, your oldest. It was nice, him having another man around to look up to, even if he really needs to remember to watch his language.

Voices sound from the back yard; Eddie had found Sammy and as usual, they were loud and laughing. Not that you minded at all, any laughter those kids could get was music to your ears.

You grab your sunglasses and perch them on top of your head, searching around for your gardening tools. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and you wanted to be near the kids at least. Grasping your pruners and gardening gloves in one hand and a cooler in the other, you make your way to the rear of the house.

Pushing the back door open with a hip, you see Sammy is already in the pool. Johnny is still talking a mile a minute at Eddie, as he sits on the edge of a lawn chair.

Well, he's certainly grown up.

Eddie's shirtless, sitting there in his long black swimming trunks. There's a new tattoo on his ribs but you can't make it out from this distance. He's looking toned; his jaw is sharper, with shoulders broader than you remember. He's become a man.

When the hell did that happen?

Shaking your head out of your temporary revelry, you walk over to the pair of them. The snippets of conversation you overhear as you approach widen the smile on your face.

"So, you think of any new monsters for me big guy?"

Johnny beams at Eddie with pride. "Yeah! So right, it's like, a big bat thing right? With metal bits all over, and- and- then it's got these huuuuge teeth, and- and- when he opens its mouth the teeth fly out, right, and turn into bats!!"

He starts excitedly flapping his arms around and screeching as Eddie laughs and ruffles his hair.

"Bats huh? That's sick. Pretty metal, squirt. Have to add that to the campaign."

Johnny beams at the praise, staring down at his hand, trying to work out his fingers, then flashes the devil horn hand at him triumphantly.

"Johnny honey, do you want to play in the pool? Give Uncle Eddie a chance to breathe?"

"Yeah! Can I do cannonballs? Can I can I can I?"

His enthusiasm always brings a smile to your face. "Sure thing honey, just don't go in the deep end, 'K?"

"Kay!" He flashes a thousand watt smile at you and runs off, calling to his brother.

Your gaze returns to Eddie, who you are sure was just checking you out. His eyes flick to yours almost guiltily.

"Brought some beers out for you both. Here." Passing him the cooler, your hands brush briefly, the slight touch running a shiver down your spine despite the heat.

"Thanks Mrs F."

Eddie licks his lips and you trace the movement with your eyes.

"Mom! What are you wearing?"

Sammy has exited the pool, dripping water everywhere. You look down at your outfit. You were wearing a two piece, slightly skimpier than your usual swimwear, and a pair of jean hotpants.

"Sammy love, it's hot. I'm in my backyard. What am I supposed to do? Dress like a nun?"

Eddie snorts a laugh next to you.

"But you're all… exposed mom."

"Sammy, shut up. Your mom can wear what she wants."

"Yeah? You're only saying that because you-"

But you're destined to never hear the end of that sentence as Eddie pushes him into the pool. Water splashes everywhere, and Eddie laughs, throwing his head back. The gesture has you staring yet again, looking at the skin on his neck, the way his Adam's apple bobs. A mad idea enters your head; what if you just darted your tongue out and licked over it? Decorated that delicate skin with kisses? Nipped at the sides of his throat with your teeth?

Eddie makes eye contact with you then, and you quickly look away. He was sure you were eyeing him up, almost certain of it. Hell, he's been staring at you for years, mapping your curves with his eyes, knowing he'll never get a chance to feel them under his hands, but the look you just gave him made his stomach twist.

Before your thoughts can go any further you tear yourself away and over to the rose bushes. You deadhead the rose bush as if your life depends on it, furiously snipping and cutting, as if you're trying to trim back the impure thoughts you're having.

After a while, the bushes are looking a lot neater. Stepping back, you remove your gardening gloves and swipe the sweat beads on your brow with the back of your hand.

"Mrs F, you wanna beer?"

You turn to see Eddie laying on a sun lounger, waving a cold one. As you walk towards him he stands up to hand it to you.

"That a new tattoo Eddie?" You ask, pointing to his abdomen. He looks taken aback by your question but responds nonetheless.

"Yeah, you like it?"

Your hand drifts towards him almost instinctively, only realising when his muscles tense under your soft touch. It's a scorpion, surrounded in a wreath of flames. Tracing it with your fingers, you circle it slowly. Eddie can feel his heart pounding in his chest. A slow moan escapes Eddie's lips which pulls you out of wherever the hell you were heading. The heat must have gotten to your head. Pulling back your fingers, you respond.

"Yeah, I like it. Metal."

Looking up around him through your lashes, your eyes meet his. He looks flushed, cheeks heating at your stare.

"You OK Eddie?"

"Y-yeah, fine. I'm gonna have a dip in the pool."

He shuffles awkwardly off, nearly bent double. All his strange stance does is draw attention to the tent in his swimming trunks that has appeared. It's really rather large; to your amazement, you can't seem to take your eyes off it. Eddie dives into the pool, swimming over to your son.

Did I just do that?

You shake your head, banishing thoughts of Eddie's package, and head off to the kitchen to clean some dishes.

As Eddie rushes into the pool, he's wishing the cool water would shrink the raging hard on he just got.

Fuck, you look so good today. That skimpy bikini top barely covering the curves of your tits; them damn near spilling out of the top. Those tiny shorts, framing your hips and ass perfectly. Then you had to go and touch him. That had him nearly busting in his pants. He can't help but wonder if it was on purpose. A crazy thought he shouldn't be entertaining.

He dips his head under the water trying to cool the blood that had rushed to his cheeks.

You had to be at least 40. Sammy's Dad had been out of the picture for a while, he knew that much. He couldn't help but wonder if you were a little lonely; maybe that's why you had been flirting with him. Or it was entirely Eddie's imagination and he just needs to jerk off and get it out of his system.

As he gets out of the water, shaking his hair like a dog, he thinks he sees you looking at him through the kitchen window, but he can't be sure.

"Dude, why have you got a boner?" Sammy points at him from the water, forcing Eddie to cup his erection, trying to hide it from prying eyes.

"I can't help it!" He whisper shouts, cheeks flushing anew, "your mom's hot!"

"Eddie! Don't say that, that's gross!" Sammy slings back, pulling a disgusted face.

"Hey it's not, she's a total fox, what can I do, it's like, biological, she's a babe!"

Little did he know you can hear every word, pressing your lips together firmly to suppress a laugh as you dry up a cup in the kitchen.

"She's like, really old, and she's my mom for God's sake!"

"Hey, rude, she's not that old. You think she's into younger guys?" You can hear the smile in his voice, he's clearly just trying to wind Sammy up now, but your thighs clench together at the thought. The cup in your hands is dry as a bone right now.

"Eddie shut the f-"

"What's a boner?" The little voice is clear and loud, cutting through the argument.

A loud laugh shoots from your chest uncontrollably. You try to mask it with your hand but there's nothing you can do, it's out there now.

Eddie's head whips around to face the house, flicking water droplets in its wake.

"Oh shit." It's low, but loud enough to hear.

Making your way back outside, you call out to Johnny to save either of them answering the awkward question.

"Come on kid, you want a snack?"

"Yeah mommy! Shit!" Eddie's mouth drops open.

"What did I say about copying Eddie" you ask sternly.

He parrots back in a sing-song voice, "don't copy Eddie, Eddie is dirty."

"That's right. Come on, inside." He runs past you in the way only a child can, feet flat on the floor slapping on the concrete.

Eddie steps a little closer to you.

"I'm so sorry Mrs F it won't-"

"Hey, it's OK," you reply, stepping to meet him. You drop your voice lower, hand up as if you're telling a secret. On autopilot, Eddie leans towards you to hear your whisper, close enough to smell your shampoo.

"Sometimes mommy's dirty too."

Turning on your heel, you walk back into the house without a glance, leaving Eddie with his jaw on the floor.

Where the hell did that come from?

You try to steady your breathing as you go inside. That was reckless of you, he's half your age. You admonish yourself, telling your brain that you need to stop flirting with the poor boy.

Eddie's frozen on the spot. It's clear you overheard their little conversation, and then you come out with something like that? It's definitely not his imagination at this point. For a crazy moment he thinks he might actually have a shot at you.

Stop it. She's Sammy's mother for Christ's sake. Pull yourself together Munson.

"Imma take a quick shower if that's alright and get, er, changed. You wanna work on the campaign some more?" Eddie says it over his shoulder to Sammy, not daring to turn. He's never been so hard in all his life.

"Sure, just stay out of my mom's room."

Eddie laughs nervously, "who do you think I am?" As he walks to the house.

"Eddie fuckin' Munson." Sammy mutters under his breath.

As he stumbles into the house with his bundle of clothes over his crotch, he catches another glimpse of you, on your hands and knees searching in a cupboard.

"Honey, I don't think we've got any animal crackers left." You say over your shoulder to a pouting Johnny.

You're barely contained in your jean hot pants, the denim tight against your perfect ass.

"Fuckin' hell" Eddie mutters under his breath, tearing his eyes away to make his way upstairs.

He practically runs up the stairs, tripping slightly on the last step. Flinging his body into the bathroom, he shuts and locks the door.

Five seconds later he's in the shower with his hand wrapped around his slippery cock, tugging on it as if it were his last day on earth.

Fuck, why does she have to be so fine?

He's whimpering and stifling breathy moans as he cums hard in less than five minutes. Shame snags its sneaky claws into his heart then, as he hangs his head under the shower head. He needs to get it together before the thought of you ruins him completely.

********************

Knocking on your eldest son's door, he calls out for you to enter. Both him and Eddie are sitting on the bed, a pile of books and notes between them. You do your best to ignore the smoky weed smell as you address him.

"Sammy, I'm heading out, you still OK to take care of Johnny?"

"Woah, Mrs F you look h-" Sammy elbows him in the ribs before he can finish the sentence, "-very nice." Eddie finishes lamely.

A smile spreads over your face at his words. Your date tonight was nothing special, not really, but the need growing between your legs needed to be sorted out somehow. So, you'd dressed to impress; a red figure hugging dress, ending just at the knee, with matching slingbacks. Your hair was down, hanging past your shoulders in soft curls.

"Mom, I'm going to Tiffany's, to stay over, remember?" Sammy responds, raising his eyebrows meaningfully at you.

"That was tonight?" Well, fuck. "Your grandma's coming to pick Johnny up at 9, can't you stay until then?

"I can watch him."

You both turn to look at Eddie. He looks just as surprised as you two at his words.

"I can watch him, no problem. I ain't got anywhere to be tonight."

Eddie doesn't know why he offered. Well, in part he did. He might get to see you again in that dress later.

"Thanks Eddie, you're a lifesaver. I can pay-"

"Oh no, don't worry about it." He flashes a grin which does something to your insides, melting them just a little.

"Thank you, I really appreciate it. Johnny's downstairs watching TV, he's had dinner, just need to wait for my mom to pick him up. You sure it's OK?"

"Of course, it's no problem."

"OK, well make yourself at home." You give him a winning smile of your own which makes his face flush red.

"Oh, and Sammy?"

"Yeah mom?"

"Use protection."

"Mom!"

You laugh and shut the door, heading off to your date.

********************

The date was a total bust, not that you'd expected anything less. Greg from accounting was nice, sure; kind of handsome, in a middle aged balding kind of way. A reliable sort of guy. Then, when the dinner was over and he kissed you, you knew there was no way it was going to go any further. So, you'd refused his invitation to go to a bar, made your excuses and got a cab home.

Standing outside your house, you look at the time. 9:30. Rock and roll. You huff into the humid night air at how old you must seem right now, and open your front door.

"Eddie!"

Sprawled on the sofa, manspreading, sits Eddie. A beer rests on the coffee table, and the TV is blaring out some horror film.

He scrambles to his feet looking like he's about to be told off.

"Mrs F, sorry, erm, your mom's not here yet, she called saying she was running late-"

As if on cue, there's a knock at the door. You open it, and see your mom standing there, pushing past you in a cloud of perfume.

"Hey love, so sorry I'm late!" She looks at you, then Eddie. "Is this your date?"

Blushing a furious red, you shake your head.

"Oh, no this is Sammy's friend, he was watching Johnny for a bit."

"Oh, the young man I spoke to on the phone. Shame, he's very handsome." She winks at you.

"Mom!"

Eddie looks like he's about to die from blood loss; his face is so drained it's ghostly white.

"I-I'll go get squirt," he stumbles out awkwardly.

"Mom, please behave." You whisper when he's left the room.

"I'm behaving! I thought you were on a date, what happened?"

"He wasn't my type."

"Well, you should find someone who is. How long has it been?"

You run your hand through your hair, feeling a little more confrontational than usual due to the alcohol in your veins.

"Mom, just drop it. I'm fine!"

"OK, OK! That babysitter is a fine looking young man-"

"Mom!"

"Mommy!" You turn just in time for Johnny to grab your legs in a hard hug, squishy cheek pushing against your thigh.

"We went on an adventure! I'm a Knight, I saved the lady! There was gobbins and stuff!" His little eyes shine, staring at Eddie in pure adoration.

"Really? Well done! Sounds amazing love. Go on, go with nanna. I love you."

"OK! Love you mom! Bye Uncle Eddie!" He runs over to him and grabs his legs fiercely. Eddie ruffles his hair in response.

"Night squirt. Or should I say Sir Johnny the Just?"

"Yeah! Imma hero!" He beams and runs off to grasp your mother's hand, regaling her of his adventures.

"I'll see you later mom," you say, passing her Johnny's overnight bag by the door.

As the door shuts, the only sounds are coming from the gristly movie on the TV until Eddie switches it off. Silence.

"Mrs F, I only opened the beer after I put him to bed, I swear-"

"Hey, it's fine, don't worry. Thanks for staying longer, I appreciate it."

"Oh, it's fine. My trailers empty anyway, and you have cable." He smiles sheepishly at you.

"I told you, make yourself at home. Finish your beer."

Shoes are kicked off to join the jumble at the front door, and you rub some life back into your aching heels. Eddie's staring at your feet and he can't figure out why. He's never had a thing for feet, but yours? Yours he'd happily have running over his body, in his mouth, on his cock. He's almost ashamed at how just the slightest bit of your flesh on show has him practically drooling.

You're oblivious to Eddie's perverse thoughts however. Tonight was not what you wanted, and it makes you huff aloud at the thought.

"You alright Mrs F?" Eddie asks, concern in his voice as he sits back down on the couch, trying his hardest not to stare at your cleavage.

"Yeah I'm-" why are you lying? "no, actually I'm not. Not the night I was expecting." When you flash a weak smile at Eddie, it's not returned. He looks worried almost.

"Wanna talk about it?"

It's sweet of him to ask, and you're about to brush it off but he just looks so invested in your welfare that it takes you aback briefly.

"Sure. Hang on a minute." You pad barefoot to the kitchen and grab a beer, returning to the living room to sit on the couch beside him.

Eddie is trying to tell himself he's just being nice. It's not just an excuse to stay. It's difficult to believe his own thoughts however when your dress is riding up your thigh like that.

The very air between you both seems thick and laced with unanswered questions, tension real and palpable.

"So, Sir Johnny the Just?" You ask, to try and clear the closing space.

"Yeah," Eddie grins, face lighting up at the mention of your boy, "I gave him the name. Made a little one shot for him, you know, fought some goblins, saved a damsel in distress. He's got a knack for D&D."

Your eyes glisten at that.

"Thanks, he really looks up to you. It's nice, him having some guys around."

"Can I ask, what happened to… Mr F?" He knows he's crossing a line here, but he's so curious, and Sammy never talks about it.

"He left me. I was pregnant with Johnny, and he met some blonde twig, had an affair."

"Oh, I'm so fuckin' sorry."

You shrug. It's trauma, yes, but it's passed. A wound that has long since closed over the years, scarring but healing. You sip your beer and ask a line crossing question of your own.

"So, no girlfriend then? Since you're free on a Saturday night?"

You're not sure where that came from, but it's been asked now. A bubble of nerves pops when you ask it, showering you in drops of second guesses.

"N-no, well I mean, yeah I've had like, girlfriends in the past but no, I'm single. As a pringle."

What was that about? Smooth Munson.

You just laugh as he visibly cringes at his own words.

"Pringles aren't single, they fit together. They come in a tube." You add, mock helpfully.

You both chuckle then, diffusing some of the awkwardness between you. He knocks your knee with his. You reciprocate, and look up into those soulful puppy dog eyes of his.

Eddie's arm lays on the back of the couch behind you, and he's painfully aware of that fact. He wants to drop it to your shoulder, to run circles on your exposed skin and give you that smile, the smile he's given to a dozen girls. But you aren't a girl. You're a woman. The thought is making him more nervous than a virgin on prom night.

Coughing the thought away, he asks you about tonight.

"So, what happened on your date? I thought you'd be out later."

"So did I." You slug some more beer back to calm yourself, and continue, "he was a nice guy. Opened doors, paid for dinner. Then he kissed me."

Eddie attempted to ignore the burning jealousy in his gut.

"Oh yeah? Sounds awful.'

Laughing, you reach and stroke his side for a minute. Your hand lingers, feeling down to his hip. Eddie's heart is pounding in his throat. To his amazement, you leave it there, absentmindedly running fingers over his t-shirt.

'Yeah, torture," you quip, "it was the kiss."

Suddenly, you're moving your hand, much to Eddie's dismay, and turning to face him on the couch. He does the same, noticing that his arm is now so close to your head he can feel a slight tickle from your hair.

"Can I be honest with you?"

"Sure," Eddie tries to say coolly, to act like his entire insides aren't on fire because of the eye contact you're giving him.

"It's, er, been a while. A very long while." Your eyes dip down, unsure why the hell you're telling Eddie this, but something about him is making you want to be open when usually you're a closed book.

Eddie swallows thickly. He knows exactly what you're getting at. On instinct his thumb is rubbing the back of your head, over the soft curls. You don't seem to mind, better yet, your shoulders drop some tension, letting go just a little.

Still looking down, you say "I can usually tell what someone's going to be like, in bed, from a kiss. Never been wrong yet," you laugh a little, "and he felt, well, dull, and kinda selfish."

Grabbing your beer for something to distract you from the ache in your core, you drink some more, nearly finishing it.

As you place it back down on the coffee table, you glance at Eddie's lap. He's fumbling with his rings, spinning one with his thumb as he shifts in his seat. There's an unmissable bulge in the front of his jeans; they're so tight you can see the outline of it. Of him.

Glancing up at his face when you feel brave enough, it's beetroot red, but his eyes look dark, hungry almost.

"Well, th-that's a cool superpower to have," he laughs out nervously.

"I suppose it is" You smile.

Eddie's trying so hard to control himself. The devil on his shoulder is pulling at his hair and yelling in his ear to make a move.

This isn't right though, it's Sammy's mom for fucks sake.

That's when you put your hand on his knee, touching that bare patch of skin where his jeans are frayed. Your touch is delicate, almost hesitant, and it destroys any resolve Eddie had. His hand is shaking slightly as he puts his fingers over yours.

The touch is warming and electric, fanning the flames of the blazing fire in your stomach. As your eyes meet, Eddie's confidence grows. He can see that you want this, but someone needs to make the first move, and he would kick himself if he missed out because he didn't have the balls to make it.

"You know sweetheart," he begins, as you take a sharp breath at the nickname, he's never called you anything other than Mrs F before that, "you can't just say you have a superpower like that and not show me."

There's nerves in his voice, but also a cheeky smile playing on his lips. To his amazement you blush, mouth curving into a smile of your own.

"Listen, Eddie, you're a very sweet boy-"

"-man," He interjects, "I'm 21."

Chuckling, you reply, "OK, a very sweet young man, but I don't think that's a good idea."

It's true, you don't. It's a very bad idea, but it's one you can't get out of your head, your eyes drawn to the curve of his jaw, his stubble, those plush lips of his. Wetting your lips impulsively, you nibble at the bottom one which sends Eddie's head into a dizzying whirlwind.

"I just wanna know if I'm good in the sack, think it's only fair if you can tell me, it's just a kiss."

Luck being pushed as far as it can go and then a little further, he daringly places a hand on your cheek.

He is right, it's only a kiss.

You say it in your head as if you're trying to convince yourself of the lie. By the time you realise how weak of an argument it is, you're already leaning forward, eyes unmistakably drawn to his lips.

Eddie leans in, breath fanning your face.

"Don't you want to… satisfy your curiosity?"

It's bold, he knows, but you're the one who leans in further.

Eddie doesn't think twice, not when your eyes are hooded like that and your lips are forming a sultry pout. He presses his lips to yours softly at first, feeling the plush of them melt against his, his hand winding into your hair.

You don't stop him, or pull back. His lips on yours are disarming, taking away your bite. The kiss is gentle, and you dissolve into it, moving your lips against his with a passion you can't remember ever feeling.

Eddie's trying really hard not to just stick his tongue down your throat and feel you up, but he needs to prove something. He might not ever get a chance ever again, so he takes it slow. Opening his mouth, his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, begging. Not only do you let him, you return his tongue with a lick of your own, running it over his lip in turn. Tongues stroke into each other's mouths sensually; you feel as if you have something to prove. Like he's the one who will be judging you and not the other way around.

He tastes intoxicating; you can't put your finger on why, it's beer, and cigarettes, and something else that's drawing you in. It's just pure Eddie. His smell too, leather, smoke and Old Spice; it's filling you up from the inside out, making your head spin.

Eddie's obsessed. Your touch, your scent, your taste. He could kiss you forever; he could kiss you until he dies, suffocated by your mouth, your passion. This feels like some sort of fever dream and he never wants to wake up.

Your fingers are touching cotton fabric before you even understand that you've got a fistful of his shirt, pulling him in further. He responds by dropping his hand to your neck, thumb rubbing intoxicating patterns on your pulse point.

When you're feeling on the brink of being entirely consumed by his kiss, he's the one to pull away. It's a little sneaky, he knows that, but he wants the upper hand and thinks he won't get it ever again. Eddie can't believe his luck when he sees your eyes still closed, lips chasing his touch, with a ball of his shirt in your hands.

As your eyes flutter open, you look up at him. A self satisfied smirk is smeared across his face and you can't help but think he's won this round of whatever the hell you're playing. Playing with fire it feels like.

A moment too late and you remember your hand bunched into his clothes. You unhand him and slap his knee, fingers unwilling to pull away.

"So, what's the verdict sweetheart?" Eddie asks. His fingers are still massaging at your neck, rubbing back and forth, sending tingles down your spine.

"What?" You ask, mind well and truly blank.

"Guessing that's good." He laughs, taking his hand away to take a sip of his beer. "Remember your superpower, Wonder Woman?"

"Oh, yeah. It was… good." You shrug, picking up the last of your beer and downing it.

"Good? Good?! Come on, you gotta give me more than that!" He huffs dramatically, slamming his beer bottle on the table.

Laughing aloud, you turn and face him again. He really is beautiful. His hair framing his face, that triumphant smile on his lips, laughter lines creasing in his day old stubble. You can almost believe he's older than he is, but knowing what you know about his family, he's been through a lot.

"OK, it was the best kiss I've had in a while. A very long time."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

It's quiet for a moment; a loaded kind of quiet. It hangs heavily in the air like a thunderstorm.

"Well, how about you?" You ask.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean!" You laugh, nudging him with your foot.

"It was… good." He says, mimicking your words. Then he takes in your face, drinking in your beauty with his eyes, until he can't hold back anymore, "alright, it was mind blowing, you're really fuckin' hot."

"Yeah, for my age" You scoff at his response, disbelieving him even after that kiss. You hear it alot, ever since you passed 35. 'You look good for your age', the backhanded compliment that feels like a knife in the chest.

"That's bullshit!" Eddie responds loudly, shaking you out of your head and into the here and now, "you're fucking hot, period. Nothing to do with age sweetheart."

If his words are lies, the bulge in his pants sure isn't. You feel drunk, and not from the alcohol. Eddie's kiss had you feeling reckless. Naughty. Young.

"I overheard your little conversation earlier," you admit, scooching closer to him on the couch. Faces an inch apart, Eddie's torn between pouncing or running. So are you.

"Yeah, you weren't supposed to hear that. Kinda glad you did."

That makes you braver. All thought has gone, and the pounding need in between your legs has you losing all inhibitions as you lean towards his neck.

"Do you want me, Eddie?" You purr into his ear, nipping at the lobe with your teeth.

"Uh, like, yeah. Yes, o-of course" He replies shakily, hand restless against your thigh.

"You're trembling Eddie" it's your turn to smirk, lips dragging against his throat, "you've been with a woman before, right?" You know he has, but you can't help teasing him a little.

Yes, a dozen, but none like you.

"Y-yeah, I'm not a virgin, if th-that's what you're asking."

Get it the fuck together Munson.

"Then why are you nervous?"

"Girls don't make me nervous. You make me nervous" He laughs, with absolute honesty in his words.

With a flick of your eyes to his lips, you cradle his jaw. Eddie can't wait a second longer, he's about to burst. He takes a breath, grabs you by the hip, and presses a hard kiss to your mouth.

The first one was a test, an examination. This one is pure desire, neediness etched into the marrow of his bones. Yet you're the one to deepen the kiss, mouth opening up to him, your tongue running over his with fervour. Lust is rolling off the pair of you, filling the room with its sultry fog.

Impatience gets the best of him, he needs you closer, so he yanks you into his lap, hands grabbing hard to your hips. Gasping into his mouth at the sudden dominance, you let him lead. His kiss is burning you, hot and heavy. Your hips start grinding into his lap of their own accord, each movement inching your dress higher and higher.

Eddie rolls it up and over your ass so your red lace panties are on display, dress bunching at your waist. His hands are all over you, feeling at your thighs, your hips, your ass, kneading at the dough of your flesh desperately.

Each grope, each bruising squeeze of his fingertips has you panting in his mouth, your hands winding into his loose locks, tugging.

The kisses are becoming sloppier, allegedly immovable lipstick starting to smear on Eddie's face. You're biting at his bottom lip, grinding hard against his clothed dick; Eddie feels like he's died and gone to heaven.

He tugs at your dress urgently, coaxing you to wriggle it up your frame and fling it away.

The sight of you in your matching bra and panty set is enough to stop him in his tracks. It's gorgeous satin and lace, one of many you have. Even Eddie can see this is expensive. He runs his hands up and down your sides, drinking it in as if it were his last day on Earth.

You allow him the few moments he takes to worship you with his eyes. If anything you're enjoying it as much as he is, his hungry stare fuelling your ego.

"See something you like?" You tease, fingernails dragging across his neck.

"Fuck yeah" comes his breathy response, pulling down a cup of your bra roughly, his mouth finding your nipple and sucking.

Throwing your head back, you let out an unadulterated moan. You grab the hem of his shirt and tug it upwards. He gets the message, wrestling it off of his toned frame and throwing it away as if he's exasperated with clothes. Relishing in this new uncharted territory, your hands run all over his skin, tracing tattoos and freckles, fingernails leaving evidence of your desire.

"Sorry, I just need to-" instead of telling you, he shows you, standing up with you grasped firmly at the hips. You think for a moment that he's going to take you upstairs, but he's pressing you down gently to the floor, lips and tongue tasting your neck, playfully licking over your collarbone.

Eddie needs to know what your pussy tastes like; he's been dreaming of this for as long as he can remember. The thought of you unravelling because of him has him twitching in his pants.

So, he makes his way down your torso, mapping your skin with his tongue. You're just so reactive; each time he laps and sucks at you a breathy gasp comes spilling from perfect painted lips.

It's driving you crazy, his mouth is setting each patch of skin aflame, burning with passion. You're surprised by his movements as his mouth trails lower and lower. It looks like he's taking every enjoyment in tasting you, and the way he wiggles to get between your spread legs makes you realise he's going to go down on you. That is what's so surprising; you've never had a man who did that without some serious coaxing, let alone one who seemed to really want to.

Now you're not self conscious by any means; you've grown to be very comfortable with your body, the feeling just comes with age. You can't help but be a little worried however, when Eddie reaches the stretch marks on your tummy. Little lightning strikes, lighter than the rest of your skin. You're not embarrassed, those little marks on your stomach and thighs are signs of your two beautiful boys. What's troubling you is the fact that Eddie can't have possibly seen any before, at least like this. What if they disgust him?

It seems you needn't have worried. Eddie's in awe, running his fingers over the soft skin of the scars. He plants a kiss over the top and watches your muscles tense up.

It's not that he likes them, or dislikes them for that matter; it's the fact that they are real. You're real, and in front of him in your underwear, and they ground him to the fact that this is actually happening.

Reaching the hem of your panties he's torn between taking them off or not; you're just so damn pretty in them. He settles for running his tongue along the seam making you moan. You, Sammy's mom, moaning underneath him. He'd pinch himself if he didn't think it would spoil the mood.

"You can take them off if you want baby."

"Can I just, move them to the side? You're so fuckin' pretty like this."

"Sure" you nod at him. He does so and nearly dies at the sight. Seems everything about you is thought of, down to your manicured nails, waxed legs, and bikini wax. The little patch of hair left is driving Eddie fucking crazy.

He wastes no more time and runs his tongue through your folds, lapping at you like a man possessed. You taste exquisite, a flavour Eddie will remember for the rest of his life. It has him groaning into you, the vibration tingling over your clit making you writhe under him.

He's trying to map what you like, what makes you whimper, what makes you buck into his mouth. You can tell he's trying, really trying, but you know what you need.

"Eddie, oh fuck, use, use the flat of your tongue," as he changes his tongue shape and rhythm, you wind your fingers into his hair and tug him right where you need him, "Oh God fuck, right there!"

Yes fucking ma'am.

Eddie's birthdays, Christmases, Easters, fuck it, all the holidays, have come at once. You are using him for your pleasure, riding his face. His dick is so swollen it's almost painful; he's rutting into the carpet like a teenager, the seam on his jeans not nearly providing enough friction.

The pleasure is coursing through your veins, throbbing inside your stomach and thighs as you take what you need, fingers pulling hard at his hair.

The moan that rips from your chest when Eddie pushes two fingers into your soaking wet cunt is pornographic, long and loud. He curls them upward, stroking incessantly at your g spot and spots appear in your vision. The last coherent thought you have is, fuck he really knows what he's doing.

"Eddie!"

You come with a strangled scream of his name, then it's all just white light and searing ecstasy as you ride out your orgasm. Your pulse and the feel of Eddie's hair taut in your fingers are the only things keeping you on planet Earth.

Eddie just about holds it together, fingers working you through your release. You screamed his name. He almost came in his pants right then and there. The sound of you screaming his name is now a new core memory. He's sure he will replay it in his head many times with his fist on his cock.

Your back finally touching the carpet again, you tear Eddie's head away from your pussy and coax him none too gently upward. He hovers over your mouth, a little worried about kissing you when his face is covered with your release, but that worry turns into shock when you push his head forcefully towards yours and slip your tongue in his mouth.

You can't help but moan at the taste of yourself in his mouth. The moan sounds low in your throat, buzzing into Eddie's mouth so low he feels it in his dick. Seems you weren't lying when you said mommy is dirty too.

Suddenly Eddie's world turns sideways as you flip him onto his back, pushing his thighs apart with your knee. His scent, the feel of his skin, it's intoxicating. Before you realise what you're doing, you're sucking a love bite into the side of his neck, hard.

Mine.

Trailing lips and manicured nails down his torso, you pause at the fly of his jeans. You look up at him through your lashes.

"This OK Eddie?"

"Erm… oh God yes?"

You giggle girlishly, flicking the button of his jeans undone and unzipping the fly gently. Relishing in the moment, you guide him to lift his hips and pull his jeans and boxers down slowly, unwrapping him like a gift.

And what a fucking gift.

As you pull his jeans and underwear down to his knees, his hardened cock springs out, coming to rest on his abdomen. It's big, the biggest you think you've seen in real life. Blushing a pretty pink at the tip, a pearl of pre cum sits on the slit at the top.

Eddie takes your stillness as judgement, he can't help but fill in the silence.

"Sorry, it's er, it's not like, impressive or anything- oh fuck"

His apologies are interrupted when you take the tip in your mouth, sucking up the pre cum that glistens there. You roll the tip around your mouth, amazed at the fact he tastes so good.

Breaking away with a pop, you reply, looking at him as you fist his length slowly with one hand.

"Eddie, you're really, really big."

"Really?" He doesn't look convinced, leaning up on his elbows to look at you.

"Really. You're huge Eddie."

"Yeah?" An edge of disbelief coats his voice, but he's smiling.

"Biggest I've seen."

Eddie's smile is damn near splitting his face in half.

"So, could I get that in writing or- Jesus fuckin' Christ!"

You take him in your mouth again, fitting as much as you can, fisting the rest in your hand. The groans and whimpers coming from Eddie's mouth are downright obscene. The wetter you get him, the louder he gets, so you dribble purposely all over your fist, letting it drip down to his balls.

Eddie's eyes keep trying to roll back but he won't let them, he refuses. He needs to see this, to see you. The slick sounds your hand and mouth are creating are making him fizz from the inside out, each movement is making him want to blow his load in that perfect practised mouth.

Sammy's mom is sucking my fucking dick dry.

He's trying to get his head around this impossible situation but it's so outlandish he wants to laugh. Or cry. Or scream. He settles on moaning, hand resting on the back of your head, stroking encouraging circles.

"Fuck, you're- you're too good at this, holy shit!"

Relinquishing his length with a sodden wet noise, you fist his length, running your thumb over his tip and lapping at his balls. Taking one in your mouth and playfully sucking, he nearly busts right then and there.

"OK sweetheart, I-I can't hold back if you, fuck, if you d-do that-"

You finally unhand him with a cheeky smile and straddle him, your underwear the only barrier between your sex and his throbbing length.

"You OK there champ?" You ask, a mischievous grin plastered all over your face as you drag your perfect nails down his chest.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, I-" Eddie grabs your hand, stopping you in your tracks, "Please give me a minute, please."

Eddie's eyes are big, wide and wet. Almost like a lost puppy. You're torn between wanting to hold him close, look after him, and fucking him hard until he cries.

Suddenly he looks concerned, eyes growing impossibly wider.

"I don't have, a-a condom or anything-"

You chuckle lowly, bringing his hand to your lips, kissing softly at his knuckles.

"Eddie, baby, I had my tubes tied years ago. It's OK. If it's OK with you?"

Holy shit. Sammy's mom wants to ride me raw. Jesus Christ.

His head is spinning; he realises he's nodding so hard he may have whiplash. You smirk at his response, the rigorous nodding and wide eyed look is just doing something to your insides; twisting them up, making you hungry.

Maybe that's why you do what you do. You wink at him, and swing your leg over, pushing your underwear to the side once again. Though this time, you're straddling him backwards, round ass on display as you tease the head of his cock with your soaking wet lips.

As you sink down onto him, you hear the guttural moan that strikes out from his soul almost, travelling swiftly to your core. He's big, you weren't lying. You feel each vein, each ridge, as you seat yourself fully onto his cock.

This boy has no idea what he's packing.

Jesus Christ, the spots this impressive length can reach are unreal. You bounce on him slowly, revelling in the stretch. He's throbbing underneath you, inside you. The sensation makes you moan wantonly, feeling sexier than you've felt in years.

Eddie's mesmerised by your ass, watching it bounce on his dick, drooling at the shake of it when it plunges back down. His eyes are drawn to your tight hole, half hidden by the pricey underwear that still adorns you. Just a tiny slip of lace hugged in your ass cheeks.

He's already pushed his luck; he's well aware of that fact. The arousal pumping through him has him throwing caution to the wind however, so he sucks his thumb, getting it nice and wet, and pushes it against your asshole.

It surprises you, sure, but you're moaning louder at his bold move.

Eddie's reeling, dizzy at your reaction. He was expecting at least for you to just slap his hand away, but if anything you speed up and make even more noise. Fuck, if you could get more perfect, you just did. He pushes his digit in, feeling you clench around it, riding him for all he's worth.

"Oh fuck, Eddie!"

It's too much for you to take, being filled in both holes, riding him hard and fast until your vision is blurring and spots are in your eyes. Your release startles you, a fuzzy feeling filling you up from the inside out and exploding from your cunt in a gush.

Reality seeps in as you come down from your high; pain in your knees searing up your leg.

"Sweetheart, I need to get on top, please."

It's a relief you're not prepared to admit to as you climb off, legs twitching and knackered.

Near collapsing on the floor, Eddie's on you, falling in his excitement. He's forgotten his jeans are still woven around his ankles. He kicks them off and slides between your spread legs.

"Can I take your panties off now sweetheart?"

What he's not saying, is he really doesn't want to miss what might be the only time he gets to see you naked. You oblige, lifting up your hips so he can wrestle the sodden garment off you.

As if you can hear his prayers, you unhook your bra too, flinging it toward the couch. Eddie's nearly having a heart attack; it's hammering hard in his chest, the only thing stopping it from bursting out is his ribcage. The sight of you, nude, beneath him? It's unravelling him in a way he didn't know was possible.

So he loses it for a moment, burying his head in the valley of your breasts, licking and sucking as if his life depended on it. Your nipples stand to attention at his ministrations, yet your core hums at the lack of attention.

"Eddie, please, I need you inside me."

Fuck this is unreal. She's so beautiful and she's begging for me. Feels like a dream.

But it's not a dream. He's pressing his quivering length against you again and your pussy is swallowing him up as if it's hungry for him.

You let him in, his hard member spearing you, humping into you hard and rough. You groan against him, fingernails finding leverage in his broad shoulders.

His arms hook under your sweaty knees, pulling them hard against your torso, angling himself to fuck into you mercilessly.

"Fuck, you feel- so fuckin' good" He stammers out, slamming his hips into you.

You're beyond words, screaming his name like it's the only word you know.

"You gonna come again? Please, fuck, please come, I need it, I need it baby please" His babbling words fire out at you, driving you ceaselessly to another orgasm.

Fingers wind between your heaving forms, running urgent circles over your clit. They slip and slide against your sodden nub, desperately seeking to get you to that precipice. You moan, and moan, and finally clench and scream his name, voice hard, burning in your throat.

Eddie can't take it, not the way your cunt is grabbing onto him so tightly, constricting his dick as if it's afraid he'll leave. He stutters his hips and grunts his own release deep into you.

For a minute he doesn't stop, He refuses to stop. He doesn't want it to be over. So, he fucks his cum into you until it's impossible to continue and finally comes up for air.

You envelop his lips into a suffocating kiss, swollen lips and tongue and spit. Messy and passionate, he returns it, glad that you still want to kiss him at the end of all things.

Though, you don't want it to be over. His touch, his feel, his taste, you could soak it up, roll around in it forever, wrap yourself in his arms and stay. A mad thought. A maddening thought.

Eddie slips from inside you making you frown at the loss. His smile is soaked in mischief however, as he starts to kiss down your front again, burying his head in the deep valley of your breasts, tongue lathering over the supple flesh and moving downwards.

He's never, ever, felt the need to taste himself on another. As a matter of fact, if you had told him yesterday he would feel the desperate urge to press his tongue into a pussy that is dripping with his own cum he would have laughed in your face. But, this is your pussy. Your tight wet cunt, and he needs to taste it. He needs it like he needs air to breathe. For a second he stares up at you with big soulful eyes.

"I wanna taste what we made."

His words are shooting into the pulse spilling from your core.

"Really?" Your words drip in perplexity, amazed that any man would want that, but the thought lingers, making you realise that you want that.

No further time wasted, he dives into your dripping core, tongue dragging through your aching lips. For a moment it's too much, until it drops into pleasure; pleasure that you sink into, melting under his touch.

Eddie laps furiously at your clit, both of your releases dripping from his chin. He sinks thick fingers inside, squelching into your soft heat.

Wordlessly, he takes his fingers out and reaches them up to your face. His eyes are trained on you, flat of his tongue rubbing against your swollen nub.

Hesitantly, you take in the sight of his sticky fingers, before you take them into your mouth, sucking and hollowing your cheeks. The taste is indescribable; it's salty, sweet, tangy, each separate flavour hitting your tongue differently, fuelling your desires.

You're making Eddie's dreams come true with that gesture. Your trust in him, your filthiness, the way your tongue works against his fingers, it's all shooting to his heart, and his cock. He's impossibly hard again, groaning into your cunt.

Another release is speeding toward you. You can feel yourself hurtling towards it, free falling into ecstasy. You grip around his wrist, fingers digging bruises into the tendons as your orgasm rushes out of you in a string of curse words.

He moves back up your body and you envelop his slicked lips in a firm kiss. To your surprise, you can feel his hard member digging into your thigh. It's been a long time since you've been with anyone who couldn't go more than one round before rolling over and falling asleep. The joys of youth.

"You OK Eddie?" You ask between breath-taking kisses.

"OK? I'm fucking amazing sweetheart. Feel like I just won the lottery or something" He huffs a laugh, nudging the tip of his nose with yours.

"You, erm-" you begin, feeling almost embarrassed, "-you wanna go again?"

"Oh hell yeah."

His tip is already begging at your entrance but you place a firm hand to his chest, stilling his movements.

"Eddie, upstairs? My back is killing me." You admit it, the hard floor giving you aches and pains.

"Fuck, yeah, sorry. Come on" practically leaping up, he holds out his hand to you and you grasp it in yours. You giggle at his eagerness, the sight of him stark naked leaping up the stairs three at a time stoking your amusement.

This might be inappropriate, it might be a bit wrong, but damn, this is fun. Having someone desire you so much, who wants to fuck you over and over? Morals can kick in tomorrow. Tonight, you have a gorgeous young man aching to give you more.

********************

"Hey, you still here?"

You look up, distracted from your musings of last night. God, that boy had some stamina.

"Huh?"

"Wow, that date must have been good! You going to spill? Come on, tell me about it!"

Blushing, you sip the glass of wine in front of you. Karen Wheeler had popped round unannounced with a bottle and you were sitting around your kitchen table whilst she grilled you about why you were smiling so much. She would lose her shit if she knew who you were smiling about.

"I mean, I can't really talk about it." You mumble around your glass.

"Oh God, why? Oh, he's married, I bet he's married! You naughty thing!" Her words are admonishing, but her cheeks are glowing. She's loving every minute of this.

Why not? At least that would explain it away.

"Yeah, he's married."

"Oh my you're terrible!" She cackles, laughing. "How was he?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Karen."

"Oh, come on you're practically glowing! I know that look" She says, nodding sagely.

"OK, look" You say, taking a gulp of wine for composure and a deep breath before it rushes out of your mouth in a torrid whisper.

"It was fucking incredible, like toe curling incredible, you know? And he just kept going, I mean, honestly? The best I've ever had."

Karen coughs and nods pointedly behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you see him.

Eddie. Fuck.

He's standing there nonchalantly, leaning on the doorframe with a Cheshire cat grin.

"Sorry for the interruption, just grabbing a couple beers."

He bounces into the kitchen and fetches two beers from the fridge.

"Me and Sammy are just working on the campaign. I'll er, leave you ladies to it."

He practically skips out the room, leaving you red faced.

"That Eddie?" You nod, face red as a beetroot.

"He's grown up, hasn't he?"

You steer away from this line of questioning, mortified that he heard what you said.

"Only on the outside. You want a top up?" She agrees with a grin as you fill her glass up and she regales you with all the poolside gossip. When the bottle is done, she leaves with a wink, saying she'll keep your secret. If she only knew what that was.

Eddie's on cloud nine right now, bouncing up the stairs three at a time.

The best she's ever had. The best she's ever had.

It's in his mind, playing in a loop. His mantra, a quote that will live deep in his chest from now until forever after.

The best she's ever had.

He flings the door open and flounces into Sammy's room, banging a beer down on the bedside table.

"A beverage for you, good fellow!"

"Aha! Fine work m'lord!" Sammy twists the cap off, tossing it in the bin. Eddie does the same, twisting to face the waste paper basket, and takes a long swig.

"Eddie you dirty fuck."

He freezes, ice pouring down his spine. Spinning on his heel, he turns to face Sammy.

"What are you on about?" He asks, a fake smile masking the fear that had bottomed out in his stomach.

"I see the panties you've got in your back pocket, red ones. They're poking out! Dude, did you get lucky last night?" Sammy smirks, swigging his own beer.

He couldn't help himself. He swiped them when he was leaving. They were still wet, soaked with a mixture of his spit and your release. He'd sniffed them and got himself off twice this morning.

Chill out. Sammy's grinning. He's got no clue who they belong to.

Eddie relaxes and grins smugly back, laying on the floor, his back against the bed.

"Oh, you have no idea."

********************

Humming to yourself, you sort through the dirty clothes in the laundry room, separating darks and lights.

Your thoughts drift yet again to that messy haired rocker. His large hands, his tight torso, his dick. Fuck, his dick.

Shaking your head, you do what you can to rid your brain of your salacious thoughts, loading the washer a little more forcefully than you necessarily needed to.

You hear the unmistakable click of the door behind you. Not bothering to turn, you huff as you shut the washer lid with a bang.

"I swear to God Sammy if you need a shirt for tonight I've already-"

"Hey sweetheart."

Flipping to face the door, there he is. Arms folded across his slender chest, smug smirk spread stickly across his features, he stares at you.

"Eddie, you need to leave."

Your tone is stern, but your bottom lip disappears into your mouth, being nibbled at by your teeth.

"You sure? Thought you might wanna see me. You know, since I'm the best you ever had."

"Eddie shut the fuck up!" You hiss between your teeth, eyes flashing to the door.

"Sweetheart, Sammy's fallen asleep. He had a long night. You know what that's like."

"Eddie, that was a one time thing. God, it's not like this can go anywhere, so why are you here?"

Tapping your foot impatiently, he closes the gap between you, cornering you between the wall and the washing machine.

You want to be angry; to push him away and leave, but the pounding of your pulse between your legs betrays you.

As if he knows, he slots his leg between yours, denim clad thigh hovering near your throbbing heat, pushing your sundress up in the process.

"I know. Fuck, I'm well aware. I just wanna- help you out. Like, an arrangement" He smiles, knuckles reaching up to stroke your cheek.

"Eddie-"

Before you manage to form words, he's on his knees in front of you, large palms running over your bare thighs.

"Please."

That's all he says, wet doe eyes wide, gleaming up at you as if you were some sort of goddess and he was kneeling at your altar.

Eddie's begging to the old Gods and the new; fuck it, to anyone who might be listening. He wants you, with everything he has. Each fibre is burning for you. He thought it might go away after last night, but it was simply a taste. A drop of water doesn't quench an undying thirst.

This little sundress is doing nothing to sate his hunger for you. The flimsy material clings in all the right places, forcing his eyes to trail over your curves like a man starved.

Without a thought in your head, you wind your fingers into Eddie's hair, relishing the feel of his hot breath on your naked thighs. Guiding his head forward, you shudder as his lips trace across your flesh.

Eddie lifts your dress up, reaching desperately to pull your panties off and away before you change your mind. Slick sticking to them, he pulls them down, watching as they gradually peel from your core.

He sits on his heels, eyes flitting from your eyes to your cunt.

"Sweetheart, please. I just wanna- I wanna help you with your needs. Fuck, with my needs."

Nodding emphatically, you tug at his hair, drawing him in.

Eddie counts his blessings and dives straight at your pussy, lapping between the folds just like you taught him.

"Oh God" you moan aloud, then bite at your hand to stop your noises. Flicking one leg over his shoulder, you force his head as close as you can, nearly riding his face.

If anything, Eddie is a quick learner, at least when it comes to you.

His tongue is electric, hitting all of the right spots. He feels your cunt on his tongue, leaving hot and heavy licks. Running his hand up your thigh again, he presses his thumb against your clenching hole, wiggling into your slick drenched pussy.

"Eddie, yes!" You whisper, fingers pulling at his curls incessantly. Eyes rolling back, you rut your hips into him, on the brink of falling apart.

White hot light sears your eyelids as you come with a stifled cry, cunt undulating around his thick digit.

"Fuckfuckfuck!"

Yanking his head away from you by the roots of his hair, you cannot fail to hear the unmistakable moan that spills from his lips.

Eddie's staring up at you dumbfounded, as if you created the universe just for him.

Panting, you stare back down at him, his lips parted and shining with your orgasm.

"Eddie, holy hell."

He stands, wiping the slick from his face with the back of his hand, though it does nothing to remove the grin.

Against every better judgement, you grab him by the shirt and pull him closer, lips nearly touching.

"You- you can't tell anyone about this, OK? Not a soul, understood?"

If it were possible, his grin grows even wider, palm resting at your waist.

"I can be discreet." He whispers as he presses his lips to yours. Winding fingers into his hair, you deepen the kiss, tongue moving expertly between his parted lips to taste him, and you.

Eddie pulls away reluctantly.

"I better go."

As he moves to the door, hand hovering over the handle, you call out to him.

"Eddie, wait."

Turning his head, he looks at you.

"Sammy's seeing Tiff again tonight, and er, Johnny's still at his grandma's."

"Good to know." He winks and leaves. What you don't know is that he does a mini victory dance once the door is shut, fists pumping in the air with sheer joy.

He doesn't know how long this is going to last, but he'll take every single second he can get with you whilst you let him.

Taglist (just some likely candidates ;) )

@cursedyuta @eddiesprincess86 @munson-blurbs @rip-quizilla @emsgoodthinkin @josephquinnsfreckles @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eiightysixbaby @lightvixxen @ali-r3n @usedtobecooler @roanniom

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sytoran · 7 months

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐓.𝟐

following your erotically fantastical encounter with the mother of the kids you babysit, the aftermath is more of a rollercoaster than you could have ever precedented.

🌸 pairing: milf!pregnant!wanda x dom!babysitter!reader

🌸 cont: smut (18+), mommy kink (wanda), lactation kink, body worship, praise kink, power bottom sex-deprived milf 🤝beefy college service top footballer

🌸 word count: 2042

🌸 note: THIS IS SO LONG-AWAITED im sorry..... also i know im supposed to be writing for kinktober but milf!pregnant!wanda was invading every corner of my mind so here ya go. not proof-read!

part one || main masterlist

“Come on, Y/N, you’re not going to the party tonight?” Natasha grumbles, grabbing the sleeve of your bomber jacket as you try your darndest to escape your friends.

It was the fated next day following your erotically fantastical encounter with Wanda, and you had just completed your classes. As you strolled out of campus grounds, the sun was already setting. It painted a picturesque view of the orange horizon, but truthfully, you only cared about getting back to Wanda for that promised ‘tomorrow’.

“I told you no, Nat,” you reply with a playful sternness that the others laugh at. It was no secret that Natasha had a crush on you, ever since you first sat next to her in the lecture hall and got a little flirty and perhaps a little too handsy.

It was also no secret that for every lecture after that, you would sit next to a different girl and activities of the same sort would ensue. Most of the time, those encounters would end up with a pretty girl trapped between the wall of a cramped supply closet and you.

“They’ve probably got a secret girlfriend,” Tony adds unhelpfully, with that classic smirk you want to punch off his face sometimes.

“Really?” Steve asks genuinely, ever the innocently clueless one. “Is she younger than us?”

“Oh, definitely,” Sam chimes in. “Have you seen the freshmen ‘round our beloved Y/N?”

“Feral,” Carol states in resolution. “They crowd at the field to watch Y/N during football practice.”

“And of course, Y/N doesn’t bother to hide the way she leads them all on!” Natasha adds in partial indignation, nudging you suggestively. “That’s totally your type, hm? Younger, pretty girls who chase after you with a puppy love? Is that why my forward advances have always ended in flames?”

You grin half-heartedly, awkward in the spotlight of your love life. For one, your friends couldn’t be more wrong about this ‘secret girlfriend’ you had. Younger, innocent girls? More like smoking hot single moms in their late thirties.

It was strange, even, how you would normally take these girls’ teasing in your stride, almost basking in the glory of being the most sought-after student on campus.

But with the looming thought of Wanda intercepting every brain wave of yours, months of pining surmounting to a heated make-out session with the hope for something more, all else was forsaken.

You try not to think about the implications of that too hard.

As your friends continue to bicker about the prospect of your secret girlfriend, you seize the well-earned distraction and weasel your way out.

Sooner than you’d care to admit, you’re standing outside Wanda’s home, skateboard in hand. You’re buzzing in anticipation with your flushed face and windswept hair.

Before you can doubt yourself and backtrack, you knock on the door sharply, twice. You can’t help but smirk at the muffled shriek that follows, then a muted shuffle, then silence. Your heart hammers in your ribcage. You really were about to do this.

“Come in, sweetheart,” the mother calls out with a sugary tone that feeds your ever-increasing libido.

You open the unlocked door, mentally preparing yourself to face Wanda once more.

But then you actually lay your eyes upon her ethereal figure, and your athlete-hardened knees nearly buckle.

Fuck.

Sprawled out on the sofa like something out of a classic Renaissance painting is Wanda, clad in nothing but a lacy set of dark red lingerie, the most sultry look on her face that draws all the air out of your lungs.

You’d never seen a more attractive woman, pregnant or not.

The way the lacy bra hugs her swollen breasts tighter, pushing the cleavage to be even more visible, the way her thick thighs are spread to reveal those beautiful stretch marks.

“Fuck,” you say, a lot higher pitched than you would care to admit. It seems to be the only word currently circulating in your mind, your studied vocabulary flying out of the window at the sight of Wanda presenting herself for you like a well-earned present.

“See something you like?” Wanda dares to tease, left hand trailing along the lace of her bra, dipping into the ample cleavage that leaves you salivating.

It takes approximately three seconds for you to kick the door shut, yank off your jacket and nearly dislocate your shoulder, then press against Wanda like it was always meant to be.

The kiss you pull her into is the opposite of gentle, your head slanting to deepen the kiss immediately, tongues meeting like planets bound to collide, bound to cross paths and cause an eclipse.

Wanda moans into the kiss, and you can barely hide your pleasure at that noise. You wanted to hear it a thousand times over, the breathless cry of your name, the begging tone of the older woman.

It was so wrong, but nothing had felt more right.

Wanda’s relinquishment of power doesn’t last too long, though, because before you can impatiently rip off the fabric of her lingerie, she threads her fingers into your hair and forcefully tugs you closer to her chest.

“My house, my rules,” Wanda states, and you’d be lying if you didn’t feel a rush of arousal coursing through your veins at Wanda’s motherly sense of control.

“Yes, ma’am,” you mutter, half-jokingly, but when your peripheral view catches Wanda visibly aroused by that, you know it isn’t going to be the last time you address her as that.

Your hand slides under Wanda’s body to unclasp the bra, letting out an affected noise at the sight of her full tits on display.

“Shit,” you grunt, pausing for a moment to admire the view.

Throughout the months of babysitting Billy and Tommy, you had only ever discreetly checked out Wanda’s cleavage, or perhaps stare a little too hard when she wore scanty dresses that showed off her side boobs.

Now, with those perfect, swollen mounds right before your face, you give into your urges to bury your face between them. You groan at the sensation of Wanda’s milk leaking out of her hardened nipples, your mouth moving to suckle at her breasts.

“Shit, baby,” Wanda cries, throwing her head back as you drink right out of her breasts, lapping fervently. It wasn’t entirely sexual per se, but the sheer relief of lightening that weight load in her breasts was a pleasure in itself.

You get slightly drunk off the feeling of Wanda’s breasts in your mouth, and it takes Wanda a surprising amount of strength to get your head away from her chest eventually.

“You’re a bit too obsessed with my tits,” Wanda teases, swiping her milk off your lips with her thumb, tilting your head down to lock eyes with her. The tension between the two of you is palpable, thick in the air, and you long to drown in that desire.

You only smirk back, hands resting on the hem of her thong. “May I undress you now, ma’am?” you emphasise, tilting your head to the side in faux innocence.

“So polite,” Wanda retorts right back, fingertips tracing the curve of your jawline as a smile plays on her lips. “How could I say no to such a gentleman?”

That’s all the confirmation you need before you snap the elastic of Wanda’s red thong, stuffing the flimsy material into the pocket of your pants. What you’d do with it later was for another day.

You kiss down Wanda’s breasts to her swollen belly, firm but gentle, then you flatten out your tongue when it reaches her wet heat.

“I couldn’t pay attention,” you growl, licking a long stripe up Wanda’s pussy. “In any of my fucking classes today,” you continue, tongue flicking at her puffy clit. “‘Cause I was thinking ‘bout all the ways I could fuck that pretty cunt.”

The filthy moan that leaves Wanda’s lips at your words rings around the confines of the four walls.

It had been so long since Wanda experienced such mindblowing sex; She had been sexually repressed because of Vision’s busy schedule, and it was torture because pregnancy pretty much solidified her daily sexual arousal.

But what with her split from him meaning no more mediocre sex, and the prospect of a hot babysitter entering her life, Wanda’s pregnancy hormones had skyrocketed to an all-time high.

Long gone were the nights she held a vibrator against her clit under the sheets, eyes screwed shut as thoughts of you swam in her head. Long gone were the times she helplessly fingered herself in the shower, wishing her fingers belonged to you instead.

Now, your head was buried between her thighs, your mouth like the devil on her cunt, fast-paced and unforgiving and everything Wanda had always longed for.

“You’re perfect,” you grunt into the older woman’s wet heat, the vibrations of your rough tone sending jolts of arousal up Wanda’s body. “You’re so fucking perfect, Wanda.”

“D-Don’t say that,” she answers breathlessly, fingernails digging into your scalp. “You’ve slept with plenty of other younger, prettier girls than me.”

The insecurity Wanda felt about her body had mainly stemmed from Vision, who was always going on about how she had become less attractive after pregnancy, with the stretch marks and the added fat and other blemishes on her skin.

“I don’t know about that,” you say, relentless in your worshipping of Wanda’s body. The way you were treating her like a temple was overriding the false beliefs Vision had planted into her head. “‘Cause now when I think about those other girls in bed they all end up looking like you.”

At that, Wanda feels tears prick in the back of her eyes, her gaze blurring as she stares at you. ‘

You, who had entered her life like a ray of hope, brightening up her every day with a blindingly charming smile and a selfless heart. You, who had treated her with more care and respect than any man she had ever been with before. You, who tied up all her loose ends and sewed it up to form the shape of a pretty little heart.

“I love you,” Wanda whispers, the words spilling from the tip of her tongue before she can control it. Her breath constricts afterwards when your mouth finally stops to register her words.

“I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to realize it,” Wanda continues, breathless, pushing aside your hair to properly look at you in the eyes. “But I do love you, Y/N L/N.”

Wanda feels something wet on her inner thigh, something that’s not her own slick. It takes a moment for her to realize that it’s your tears.

“I’ve loved you since I first laid my eyes on you,” you confess, eyes shining. “I think I was just scared to believe it until today, too.”

Heartstrings get tugged like a harp, crescendoing into a beautiful symphony that was finally requited love, finally coming to a high, finally reaching its summit.

The lust that encaptures the two of you dissipates into a warm glow of love, the tension easing into trials of romance.

When you dive back in between Wanda’s thighs, you’re determined and emotional and ultimately choked with new possibilities.

You could already imagine cooking dinners together with Wanda, reading the kids bedtime stories, chastising them to go and brush their teeth, stealing kisses when they fell asleep.

You could already map out a navigation of your future years, down millions of paths and possibilites that all brought you to Wanda Maximoff. She was your life, your truth, your unbreakable vow.

With that, her first orgasm comes in a tidal wave, like rushing water breaking free from a dam.

Wanda sobs, riding your face as she comes harder than she’s ever had in her life, squirting all over your face and the sofa, all else forgotten.

Your expert tongue and naturally-skilled fingers bring her to another plane of existence, where she was floating above the universe, where your name was chanted like a mantra.

The world around you faded as Wanda’s thighs wrapped around your head, as you dived down once more to worship, as you dived down once more to chase the love of your life.

This was the only happy ever after you needed.

hope yall liked it 😋 reblogs are much appreciated!!

main masterlist || AO3

#wanda maximoff x reader smut #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #x reader #marvel smut #gxg smut #wlw smut #wanda maximoff x reader fluff #wanda x reader #wanda x reader smut #wanda x y/n #sub wanda maximoff #bottom wanda maximoff #top reader #dom reader

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skzdarlings · 2 months

Text

chill | the threesome series ; skz ; hyunjin/reader/jeongin

masterlist.

threesome series part 4/4. long awaited finale lol.

summary: when a lie about a fake boyfriend spirals out of control, your friends take it upon themselves to help.

pairing: hyunjin/reader/jeongin content info: friends to lovers romcom. fake relationship trope. sharing a bed trope. lots of teasing and bickering and indignant exclamations. some bossy dom!hyunjin and sweet jeongin. reader is described with a bigger chest. kissing w people watching. sex toys, dacryphilia, no mention of protection, threesome, explicit sexual content word count: 8440 words.

enjoy <3

Your bottom lip is already wobbling when you click call. You sprawl on your belly, front-down in a frilly pink bed in your childhood bedroom. You are visiting your parents in the countryside, miles away from your apartment in the city and miles away from your best friends.

You are calling them now, desperate for their friendly faces. Your boys are the first ones you call in any crisis. You don’t know what you would do without them. Just the thought has you sniffling despondently.

After a few more rings, Jeongin and Hyunjin answer one right after the other. Your phone is filled with three little squares of faces, theirs smiling and yours utterly miserable.

You look at those smiles and promptly burst into tears.

“Ahh!” Hyunjin wails.

“Ohh, whoa, what!” Jeongin says.

Both of them look concerned, all scrunched up brows and frowning faces. At least you think so. It is hard to see through your tears.

“Baby, baby,” Hyunjin says. At the same time, Jeongin asks, “What’s wrong?”

You cry a few more weepy sobs, then you grab the closest teddy bear and wipe your eyes on it. You sniffle and pout.

Even though you want their comfort, you can’t bring yourself to look at your friends when you admit, “I’ve been lying to my parents for months.”

“What?” Hyunjin asks.

“Huh?” Jeongin says.

You blink away your tears and look at them properly. They are the very picture of concern. They have such striking faces so their emotions are always so plain, their features sharp, with thick dark brows and sloping cheeks and full lips. Jeongin dyed his hair a fairer auburn a while ago, but Hyunjin is dark, both of them so handsome it makes you hiccup on a caught breath.

These thoughts make you feel even more pathetic. Here you are, gawking at your best friends while everything falls apart around you.

You drop your face and cry some more. They watch helplessly through their screens, saying your name and trying to calm you down.

“What happened?” Hyunjin asks when your tears have slowed.

“Remember a few months ago, when I went out with that guy who works at the coffee shop?”

“Yes, I hated him,” Jeongin says in a clipped tone while Hyunjin scoffs.

“Me too,” Hyunjin says. Their sour faces speak volumes.

“What!” This distracts you from yours tears for a moment. “You guys told me you liked him!”

“Yeah, only because you did,” Jeongin says. He is in his bedroom and he flops back on his bed, his mop of hair forming a charming halo around his head. He grins that dimpled, mischievous grin at you. “But now you don’t like him, so we hate him.”

“I always hated him,” Hyunjin says. He is sitting at his desk, lit so prettily by lamplight that it looks like a dreamy filter. He props his face in his hand and pouts dramatically. “You didn’t need him anyway, baby,” he says. “You’ve always got us.”

At the same time Hyunjin says this, Jeongin tucks a hand under his head. He is wearing a sleeveless top and his bicep flexes where his bare arm curves. Between Hyunjin’s pretty face and prettier words, and Jeongin looking like that, it is no wonder how quickly heat rushes to your face.

You bury your face in the blankets and shriek, frustrated with everything in your ridiculous life. They are still looking at you with concern when you surface.

“Sorry,” you say. “The point is, my mom would ask about him. You know what my parents are like and how much they want me to be in a relationship.”

You love your family, you do. You do not regret using visiting your parents. The dinners and tea times and game nights have been a delight. You have been proud to catch them up on your life in the city. You are happy with your life, your education and your job and your friends. Your parents are proud of you.

They just cannot help but poke that one little detail, snagging like a loose thread on a nail and unravelling your careful composition with their obvious judgement.

You are not in a relationship. You have never been in a relationship.

Oh, sure, there have been dates scattered here and there, but nothing serious. You are fine with this but your parents consider this cause for catastrophic levels of concern.

You try to show grace. Your family is only nosy out of misplaced worries, convinced that if you do not have a boyfriend then you must sobbing yourself to sleep every night. Which is not true. Well, sometimes it’s true, especially because your two best friends are the ones making your heart race, but most of the time you just eat cheese toast in bed.

To assuage the worst of their concerns, you maybe exaggerated the truth a teensy tiny bit.

“Well,” you say, “They were so happy that I went on more than one date, so it got them off my case for a while. After we went our separate ways, I sort of just… kept telling them… I was still seeing him…”

“Uh oh,” Jeongin says. Hyunjin grimaces. Yeah, your friends know you well. They have never met your family but they know the stories and they can guess where this is going.

“Yeah, uh oh is right,” you say. “My mom invited me out here for their summer party. They throw one every year to start the season. They invite the whole family and all their friends and their friends’ kids. It’s huge. I wasn’t even thinking when I said I would come because I always do. Only when I agreed did my mom tell me to bring my boyfriend for everyone to meet… at which point I remembered…”

“That you don’t actually have a boyfriend?” Jeongin asks with a quirked eyebrow. Hyunjin laughs, covering his mouth with a quick slap of his hand to hide it.

“Don’t laugh at me!” you say with a miserable whine. “It’s not funny. I messed up and now I don’t know what to tell them!”

“What did you tell them so far?” Jeongin asks while Hyunjin tries to get his face under control.

“I was going to tell them the truth when I got here,” you say. “But then they were so disappointed that my boyfriend wasn’t with me. I couldn’t disappoint them even more by saying he didn’t exist at all in the first place!”

“So you told a bigger lie instead,” Hyunjin says, tilting his head questioningly. “What did you say exactly?”

“I just said he was busy with work,” you say. “And they were really upset about it so I tried to cheer them up. I said he was going to try and make it to the party at least.”

“But he’s not real,” Jeongin says.

“Yes, Jeongin!” you squeal. “That’s the problem! And also—” A flood of tears return, blurring your vision again. “I know it’s so stupid. We’re all grown-ups now. But I was the youngest out of all the kids growing up, so I was always the dumb little tag-along. My mom has told everyone I have a boyfriend coming and if I make up an excuse tomorrow, they’re all gonna see through it. They’ll be nice to my face because we aren’t kids anymore but I already know they’re gonna talk about me and how pathetic I am.” You start crying again, looking around at the bedroom you grew up in, still filled with the books and clothes and toys you left behind after moving. It makes you feel like that little girl again. It only worsens your angst. “Tomorrow is going to be the worst day of my life,” you say.

“Aw, no, no, it won’t,” Jeongin says.

“Hey, baby, don’t cry,” Hyunjin also says. They both speak in the sweetest tones imaginable, gazing so lovingly into their cameras it makes you melt.

“You know you’re better than that,” Jeongin says.

“Yeah, who cares what they think?” Hyunjin adds.

“I care,” you say in a small voice, looking away again because you feel so embarrassed. “At least a little bit. I know it’s silly.”

“It’s not,” Hyunjin says. At the same Jeongin says, “It is but it’s fine.” They both scowl at the camera as if frowning at each other. It makes you laugh through your tears. You wipe your eyes on the teddy bear again.

“I guess it doesn’t matter now,” you say. “I just have to face it. It’s my own fault. Maybe if I could just get a boyfriend for real, if I didn’t suck so much—”

“You’re perfect,” they say in unison. It seems to make all three of you look flustered at once.

“Seriously,” Hyunjin says while Jeongin clears his throat. “You’re our girl.”

“Yeah, everyone is else is just stupid,” Jeongin says.

“You only need to listen to us,” Hyunjin says.

“Listen to me, not him,” Jeongin teases. “He’s kinda stupid too.”

“Excuse me,” Hyunjin says in a perfectly catty voice. Jeongin sticks his tongue out.

Their antics make you laugh. You rest your cheek on the teddy bear and kick your legs behind you, smiling into your screen.

“Okay,” you say. “In that case, just distract me until I go to bed. It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow.”

They both smile at you. They waste no time obliging, launching into stories and playful bickering, making you forget about everyone and everything else. They are your boys. They are all you need.

You go to bed with a smile on your face.

That smile is gone the next day. You are a bundle of raw nerves all morning. Despite the food being prepared, you cannot imagine eating, so sick to your stomach with anxiety. Your parents ask about your boyfriend and you answer in vague replies and half-promises. You claim he is still working but you are optimistic. You cry your make-up off only once, which is ten times less than you thought you would.

At least you look pretty. You bought a new dress for the occasion, a pretty floral piece that sweeps the floor with a delicate swish. If you are going to suffer, at least you will suffer beautifully.

You are standing in front of the mirror, practicing lines and excuses and grimacing at all of them. You are interrupted when your mother calls you downstairs, the first of the guests arriving.

Here goes nothing, you think.

You take a deep gulp of air and descend the stairs, plastering a big fake smile on your face as you greet the party guests.

They come in waves. Cousins, aunts, uncles, neighbours, friends. You greet everyone pleasantly. There are so many people and so many conversations that you manage to sink into the background of every discussion, batting queries about your own private life with questions for someone else.

You start to wonder if you worried for nothing, then someone directly asks about your boyfriend. Not just someone, but one of the girls in your age group.

“Your mother didn’t know much, she said you were quite evasive about it!” she says. She is not being unkind because she currently has no reason to believe you are lying. It will be later, when everyone realizes this mystery man is not manifesting, then everyone will start to gossip and draw conclusions. This is just the beginning of a long, agonizing party. “Is he going to be here?” she asks. “I can’t wait to meet him! He’s your first boyfriend, right?”

You love your mom, but she really is such a blabbermouth.

You laugh awkwardly, fidgeting with the skirt of your dress.

“Ha-ha, yeah, I was, um, just waiting for the, uh, right person, you know,” you say.

Someone else opens their mouth to ask more when the doorbell rings.

“Oh, I better get that!” you say and leap out of your seat. You give no one a chance to protest, scampering around bodies to get out of the backyard and into the house. You run past your father who is ambling to the door, telling him you got it. You want to let the guest inside then stand in the front yard to catch your breath. Hopefully, by the time you go back, the conversation will have moved on.

You swing open the door, a polite greeting on your lips. It catches when you see who is standing there.

“Jeongin!” you exclaim.

Your best friend is standing on your porch, grinning that big cheshire cat smile. He is an absurdly sexy vision. Jeongin is a tech guy but he takes modelling gigs on the side, fashion a personal hobby to him. His auburn hair is neatly styled around his face, a slash of colour in an otherwise all-black look. It makes him look long and fit, loose pants and a dress shirt over a sleeveless top, topped with a leather jacket. A silver chain sparkles around his neck.

He swoops in and kisses your cheek, giggling to himself.

“I heard someone needed a boyfriend,” he says.

You laugh a little hysterically, all the joy returning to your body in a rush. You slap your hands on your hot cheeks and look him up-and-down.

“Oh, wow,” you say. “You shouldn’t have. But you look really good.”

Your eyes are on the tip of his black boots. He is looking at you too, his eyebrows lifted as his gaze travels down your body.

“Yeah,” he says on a breath. “You too.”

Flustered, you cover yourself then swat at him. It makes him grin again, cheek dimpled.

“Stop that,” you say. “You’re not allowed to say things like that to me. And I’ve been sweating like a stuck pig under here. I feel like I should do the grown-up thing and come clean and send you away, but I’m not gonna do that. Come on.” You loop your arm with his elbow and drag him through the house to the back yard.

Seconds before joining the party, he leans in to whisper in your ear, “Then as your boyfriend, I’m allowed to tell you that you looking really fucking good. Okay?”

You very literally fall into the yard. Fortunately, Jeongin keeps his balance and yanks you upright. You stumble into his open arms, your back plastered to his chest. He is probably smiling that big grin at everyone as he keeps his arms around you.

“Hi,” he finally says and offers a little wave.

“Ahhh!” your mother screams more gleefully than a clown horn. She immediately starts hollering for your father.

“He’s inside getting some food ready, mom,” you say, covering your face in embarrassment as she scuttles up to you.

“My goodness, my goodness,” your mother says, all but throwing you to the side to get to Jeongin. “Oh, I’ve heard so much. No, actually, that’s not true, I haven’t heard anything. Tsk, crazy girl. Always with her secrets. But look at you, oh my, you’re so handsome! Look at those dimples.”

“Mom!” you wail. “Stop pinching his cheeks!”

Someone sitting nearby tugs your skirt. It is the girl from before and she is grinning. He’s hot, she mouths very blatantly, winking at you. You smile an awkward, too-wide grin, still more embarrassed than not. Everyone is chattering, looking at you and Jeongin. A couple others smile and give you a thumbs up. You pretend to be very preoccupied with a speck on your dress, focussed on scratching it off so you do not have to meet any eyes.

In the midst of all the madness, the doorbell rings again. You hear your father inside, shouting that he will get it.

“Oh, hurry up!” your mother shouts. “You have to meet—oh goodness, what is your name?” she asks, even while she has a hand in his hair.

“Ha, ah, Jeongin,” he says, managing to politely extricate himself. He takes her hand and pats it affectionately. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” he says, then winks at you. Your mother looks at you with a delighted smile. You refrain from smacking your forehead.

At least things can’t get worse, you think, right before things get worse.

Your father steps into the yard, smiling a big smile.

“Ah, my little girl!” he says, waving at you. “Your boyfriend is here! Everybody, this is Hyunjin.”

Your heart was racing with adrenaline a moment ago. Now, it freezes solid. It feels like a cement block dropping right into your gut. You are not sure if the entire party actually goes quiet or if your ears just give up to protect you.

You are helpless, standing stock still as your other best friend steps onto the deck behind your father. Coincidentally and preposterously, he is dressed almost identical to Jeongin, all in black with a black leather jacket. He is wearing sunglasses, though, which he pushes onto the top of his head when he sees Jeongin.

Jeongin stares back at him, then he looks at you. Hyunjin looks at you. Your mother looks at you. Everyone looks at you.

“Um,” you squeak.

Wow, that speck on your dress really is so very interesting. And why is it so hard to swallow? Where is your tongue again? Oh, why did you ever have to tell such a stupid lie, just for a few moments of convenience.

You clear your throat and look up. Your voice comes in a croak when you say, “Hi, Hyunjin.”

“Hyunjin,” your mother says, looking at him. He blinks at her. Jeongin is handsome but Hyunjin is the definitive pretty boy, an artist behind the camera but just as suited to a life in the spotlight. His artistic soul really shines through in every capacity. Even his smile is a work of art, delicate and sweet as he looks at your mother. He would have made a perfect fake boyfriend if you didn’t already have one.

Somehow you went from no boyfriends to two. No, not even, because they are fake. You went from no boyfriends to negative-two boyfriends. That must be a feat.

“Ohhhh,” your mother suddenly interrupts the silence. She starts giggling as she tip-toes to Hyunjin like a panther about to pounce. “I see what’s happening,” she says, looking slyly between the three of you. Then she grabs Hyunjin by the cheeks as well, shaking him around like a baby rattle. “My little girl has TWO handsome boyfriends!” she cries out ecstatically. “Oh, that’s just like her too. You know, she was a late bloomer in every respect, but always caught up and surpassed everyone after the fact. Struggled at school when she was little, then grew up and got herself on the dean’s list at university. You know she didn’t even grow breasts until she was eighteen then ballooned right up, the biggest you’ve seen!”

“Mom!”

Jeongin and Hyunjin look at your chest at the same time. You wrap your arms around yourself and frown, making them both clear their throat and look away.

“Oh, sweetie,” your mother says, finally freeing Hyunjin. He and Jeongin stand together, rubbing their cheeks. They watch as your mother takes your hand. “I understand now why you were to hesitant to give us any details. But it’s a brave new world. There’s all sorts of different loves out there. I’ve been reading books!”

“Exactly,” your father says, joining you in the middle of the party. “We would never judge you for who you love.”

“That’s great,” you say. This conversation would be really sweet if it wasn’t about your negative-two boyfriends and happening in front of fifty people. “Thanks,” you say.

Your father is holding barbeque tongs. He claps them in the air and smiles.

“Great!” he says. “Who’s hungry!”

It isn’t until much later that you get a second alone with Hyunjin and Jeongin. It is well after dinner when the sun is starting to set and the party has dispersed to different corners of the yard. Your parents are with some friends, seated around a fire, so you drag your fake boyfriends into the house and upstairs to your bedroom.

You slam the door shut.

“Seriously!” you shriek. “You didn’t think to tell each other you were going to show up to be my fake boyfriend?!”

They both look chagrined, Jeongin with his arms crossed and Hyunjin rocking on the balls of his feet. They look at each other with a grimace, then try to smile at you.

“Don’t give me that look,” you say, then groan, leaning against your closed door. You cover your face with your hands. “This is insane. My life is a joke. Hwang Hyunjin, don’t even think about touching anything.” You point to Hyunjin even though your eyes are covered. You don’t need to see him to know he is reaching for something, always sticking his gossipy nose in places it doesn’t belong. When you drop your hands, you catch him hovering near your head table. He smiles nervously. “Sit down,” you say, unamused.

Jeongin and Hyunjin plop onto the bed at the same time. They look rather ridiculous in the black and leather, contrasted to all the pink and white lace of your old bedroom. Ridiculous, yes, and definitely not stupidly sexy. The contrast between two sexy bad boys and your floral cuteness is absolutely not a turn-on. It’s not. No. No. You refuse.

“Sorry,” Jeongin finally says. “We should have checked first. With you, at least.”

“Yeah, baby, seriously,” Hyunjin says, shaking his head. “I feel really embarrassed. You know we would never want to hurt you, right?”

“You were just crying so much,” Jeongin says.

“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep at all last night,” Hyunjin says.

They keep speaking in their defense. You start to pout, feeling guilty, because they are so sincere in their apology. It is very obvious they did not do this to embarrass you. The complete opposite. Your friends love you so much and it is obvious in everything they do. From the day you met them, Jeongin and Hyunjin have happily dropped everything to help you with anything. No task has ever been too big or too small. If it’s for you, they will do it. You are the exception to every rule and the first call every time.

They are your boys. You are their girl.

“I’m sorry too,” you say. “In fact, I’m even more sorry. This whole thing is my fault, after all. I should have never lied in the first place.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Jeongin says.

“Yeah, we all do stupid things,” Hyunjin says.

“It’s not like you knew it would get this bad,” Jeongin adds.

“I definitely don’t think she predicted this,” Hyunjin quips, looking at him. It makes Jeongin snort and Hyunjin grins.

It makes you laugh as well, though you cover your mouth to hide it.

It’s no good. Once the first giggle escape, they are relentless. The three of you laugh until there are tears in your eyes, doubled over as the silly situation washes over you. When the laughter has somewhat subdued, Hyunjin holds out a hand in offering.

“Come here,” he says.

You take his hand and he tugs you towards them. You find yourself squished between them, framed between their bodies like a little flower. Jeongin puts a hand on your lower back and Hyunjin brushes his knuckles over your cheek. Both touches are innocent but the combination has your face heating.

Not just your face. Heat rushes everywhere, cascading down your chest, swooping in your belly and lower. Your toes even curl.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Hyunjin says. He smiles while holding your gaze. “You know we’ll help you no matter what, okay?”

Jeongin kisses your shoulder and you cannot hide your shiver.

“Okay,” you say in a small voice.

There is a moment of tense silence after this. You look between them and they look at you.

You all jump when there is a knock at your door. Hyunjin falls right off the bed, sprawling in an ungainly clatter of long limbs on the floor. Jeongin scoots to the side, less dramatic but still surprised. You sit straighter. Hyunjin groans and rubs his head.

The door opens and your mother pokes her head inside, smiling.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says. “But sweetie, there will be time to be alone with your boyfriends later, since I assume they’re spending the night. But right now we have company. Come spend time with the guests. Some of the others are using the hot tub and pool. Do you boys need swim trunks? Yes? I’ll go find some, give me a second.”

No one gets an opportunity to even answer. She closes the door and disappears as quickly as she came.

There is another beat of silence, then Jeongin says, “We’re spending the night, I guess?”

“Ow,” Hyunjin says. “I think I bruised my elbow.”

“Oh my god,” you say.

You putter around the poolside until the sun fully sets. When it gets dark, the pool lights start to flicker in rainbow patterns so the others gravitate there, splashing through the luminescence.

You and the boys wander to the hot tub while it is empty. Jeongin sinks right in like he does not even feel the heat while Hyunjin has to make a dramatic show about every inch of skin that touches it. You and Jeongin look at each other with matching quirked eyebrows. You smile affectionately.

“What? It’s hot,” Hyunjin says, finally sitting.

“That is how they work,” Jeongin replies.

You giggle but also drop your gaze. Your mother managed to find swim clothes that would mostly fit the boys. Jeongin is shirtless in swim trunks, his wet hair slicked back, that handsome face and all those lean muscles on display. When did he get so damn fit? He was always athletic in a subtle, svelte way, but his arms and back ripple with definition now.

Hyunjin is in a wet suit, one that stops at the knee and elbow. He is more covered but the solid black swimsuit makes him look so long and lean. His hair is also damp. You watch as he rakes his fingers through it, tucking it behind his ears. He really is absurdly good looking.

You blame the heat under your skin on the jets.

“Psst,” Jeongin suddenly whispers. His foot nudges yours under the water. “Is that them?” he whispers.

You try to be subtle, turning your head to see who is there. A few younger people are sitting in some pool chairs under a torch, chatting and occasionally glancing in your direction. It is a few of the people you grew up with, the ones you told the boys about.

You nod at Jeongin, smiling shyly. You look down at your legs through the rippled distortion of water. You are wearing a simple one-piece, just as pink and floral as your dress, still a contrast to your boys.

You look at them in time to catch a mutual nod. You were spread around the hot tub, a reach of space between your bodies, but they slide until they are pressed up on either side of you. You look between them, curling your hands in nervous fists on your chest.

“What is it?” you whisper.

“We’re your boyfriends,” Hyunjin whispers with a smile. “Shouldn’t we sit close to you?”

“Oh,” you squeak. “I suppose that’s true.” You swallow, looking at him then at Jeongin. Your heart is pounding against your hands. The combination of heat and desire is making you more than a little dizzy. “Wh-what else should we be doing?” you ask before thinking twice. Vocalizing your internal thought only intensifies your fantasies, your mind supplying plenty of mental images of what you would be doing in this hot tub if they were really your boyfriends.

Oh, you are definitely getting dizzy, but it is not just the jets.

Hyunjin and Jeongin look at each other, both of them surprised by your forward question. Jeongin laughs because that is his instinct, that dimple never shy. Hyunjin has more of a smirk than a smile. He pokes his tongue into his cheek and lifts his eyebrows when you look at him. It is a teasing expression. It makes you dissolve into nervous giggles, sinking lower into the water.

He grabs you before you can disappear under the surface. And it is a grab. Between Hyunjin and Jeongin, you always suspected Hyunjin would be a gentle lover. He is so gushy and romantic while Jeongin tends be more frank about things. But it is Jeongin who gently strokes a hand down your arm, who laces his fingers with yours and squeezes.

Hyunjin reaches right under the water, stopping your descent with a hand on the back of your neck. Your eyes widen as he yanks you up, not choking but certainly in control. Your mouth falls open with surprise. Much to your embarrassment, you moan before he even kisses you, the sound escaping of its own volition as he tilts his head and leans in.

Oh, his mouth is gentle even if he is not. His hand is on your jaw, firm, holding your face where he wants it, but his lips are so soft and warm. He kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth and sighing against your lips. You steal a breath as well, your mouth open against his. That breath catches when Jeongin kisses the nape of your neck, then your shoulder.

They both have big hands, long fingers, slender but strong. You melt between them, all heat and need.

You turn to Jeongin, breathless with desire. His eyes are dark, lids heavy. You have never seen such intensity on his usually smiling face.

You are ready to kiss him when some playful shouts erupt from the audience you forgot about. “Get it girl!” someone shouts.

“Oh my god,” you say. Distracted, you reach behind you, grasping for nothing in particular when you find something, indeed. Jeongin is rock hard in his swim trunks and your hand brushes the very decent length of him.

You snap your hand back to yourself, jaw dropping.

“Why are you hard?” you whisper harshly.

“What do you mean, why am I hard?” he whispers back, just as argumentatively. “We’re all making out in a hot tub. Of course I’m hard.”

“Hyunjin’s not hard!” you hiss.

You look over your shoulder. Hyunjin is staring up into the air at nothing, looking a little too inconspicuous.

“Hyunjin!” you cry.

“What?” he returns, also whispering sharply. “Are you saying you’re not turned on?”

“I—hmmph—you—no!”

“No?” he asks with a sharp tilt of his head.

“So,” Jeongin says, drawing your narrowed gaze back to him. He just smiles at you. “If we put our hands somewhere here,” his fingers skim your upper thigh and you jump, “we wouldn’t find…?”

You sputter helplessly but it does no good; you have no retaliation whatsoever. You look at Hyunjin but he’s no help, just smirking at you. He wiggles his fingers in a little wave and you feel flushed again.

“I’m leaving now,” you say and finally sink under the water while they laugh.

You step into your bedroom at the end of a very long day. The guests have all gone home. Your parents, for reasons your mother strangely explained, are staying at the neighbour’s house tonight. You are very aware of the privacy it offers, the air rife with possibility.

Your boys are in your bed, wearing boxers and sleeveless shirts and bickering about the size of the quilt. They stop yanking on the blankets when you appear.

You did not bring much sleepwear. You figured you would wear the old shirts left behind in this room. You have outgrown most of them, but that wasn’t a problem with you were sleeping alone. Now you are wearing old gym shorts that sit very high up your thighs, a little shirt pulled taut across your ample chest, and your friends are staring at you, their previous conversation completely forgotten.

You cross your arms and stomp to the bed, feigning indifference. You crawl over a startled Hyunjin to get to the middle, flopping into the little column of space they left for you.

“Good night,” you say.

Hyunjin turns off the bedside light. The three of you are laying on top of the covers, on your backs, stiff as boards. Your arms are still crossed over your chest in a totally unnatural position. You refuse to look around, counting every little popcorn freckle in the ceiling design.

“You kissed him,” Jeongin says, his voice so loud in the silence.

You feel Hyunjin look over, hear the turn of his head on the pillow. You cast your eyes to either side but do not turn your head. There is already a skip in your heartbeat and you cannot encourage it.

“What?” you ask.

“You kissed him,” Jeongin says. You feel him roll onto his side, facing you. “You didn’t kiss me.”

You brace yourself then turn your head, looking at him with every intention of telling him that you did it in the heat of the moment. But he is gazing you, his head propped up on his arm, that god-forsaken bicep flexed again.

You shake your head and look at the ceiling.

“Yes, I did,” you say. “What should we do about it?”

“Kiss him,” Hyunjin says. You look at him. He is also propped up, leaning back on his elbow. He looks at you with an expression that offers a challenge, asking, Well? What are you waiting for?

“Fine,” you say, then slowly turn to Jeongin. “Only because that’s fair.”

Jeongin does not hesitate. He is not as firm Hyunjin but he does not need to be. Long, steady fingers slide across your shoulder and cup the back of your head. He draws you into him, kissing your cheek before your lips.

You quickly lose yourself. Your eyes close and it feels like taking flight, or maybe falling. Yes, falling helplessly head over heels. You have been for a long time.

You cannot help but make a few wanting sounds. Jeongin’s body is so different to yours, all hard planes and firm muscle against your softer spots. His hand finds your waist and he pulls you even closer, kissing you long and slow like he is pacing himself, like he plans to kiss you for hours.

That hand wanders from your waist, sliding lower until he is cupping your ass. Your breath catches and the kiss breaks. He is quick to dive back in, kissing you deeper the second time, his tongue touching yours.

You grab his arm, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. When he leans in again, Hyunjin reaches out and shoves his shoulder. Jeongin blinks up at him, surprised.

“That was two kisses,” Hyunjin says. “My turn.”

Hyunjin grabs your shoulder and pulls you onto your back. You land with a soft thump, still intoxicated from kissing Jeongin.

You blink up at Hyunjin, your chest heaving with breath as his eyes roam down your body. His fingers follow the same trail, knuckles at your chin then the curve of your chest. You arch your back instinctively. Everything seems to throb when his fingers brush the front of your shorts. It is a momentary touch, then he is cupping your cheek and turning your face and kissing you.

Just last night, you were in this bed alone, fantasizing this very thing. You ended the phone call but you were wide awake, so you put on some music and grabbed your vibrator and lost yourself to the impossible fantasy now entering reality.

In your fantasies, one or both of them was on top of you. But Hyunjin surprises you with the opposite, taking hold of your hips and tugging. You follow his direction clumsily until you are straddling his lap. He is hard between your legs, holding you there against him while he cups the back of your head and kisses you.

You can’t believe you thought Hyunjin was a romantic little angel. He is an absolute demon, rolling his hips under you with the same unhurried pace Jeongin used. You are so wet and turned-on, so delirious with need, for a second it feels like there is nothing between you, just the hard shape of him against your softness. But no, there are thin layers of fabric between you, stretched so tight it is like they are not there.

Jeongin curves his hand over the shape of your ass. Your shorts are riding up from your position. He could get an eye-ful at the right angle.

“You’re so…” he says, but his breath catches like there is no word to do you justice. It makes you look at him, your eyes locking in intensity.

It ends when Hyunjin rolls, laying you onto your back again. Then he sits back, leaving you there in a breathless pant.

“What do you think about?” he asks.

You make a noise back at him. It is supposed to be a question but it comes out garbled. You shake your head, then manage to ask, “Huh? Think about?”

He sits up and reaches into your bedside drawer. You come to coherency when he takes out your vibrator.

“Hyunjin!” You cannot help but scold him. “I told you to stay out of there!”

“You know I like to investigate,” he argues. “I can’t help it.”

“Oh my god,” you say, slapping your forehead. “I swear to god, it’s like being friends with a crow.”

Jeongin sits up too, laughing so much he has to cover his face. He shakes his head as he comes up for a breath, pushing his hair out of his face.

“Stop laughing,” you say, even while a few giggles escape.

Jeongin just grins at you, then he reaches out and touches traces his thumb across your smile.

“Are you going to answer?” Hyunjin asks.

You look at him and snatch the vibrator back, clutching it possessively to your chest.

“That’s none of your business,” you say.

“It could be,” he says, expression getting darker by the second, a playful smile turning to a dirty smirk. He runs his teeth across his bottom lip then bats his eyelashes. “If you think about us,” he finishes.

“I—no—you—”

“It’s fine,” he says. “It’s normal. I think about you.”

“Hyunjin,” you gasp. You go to whack him with the vibrator then remember what it is. You hold it against your chest again, embarrassed. Hot in the face and everywhere else, you sputter more indignantly than you feel, “There’s nothing to think about with me.”

He looks at you like he can’t believe you are serious, his eyes dropping down your body then back up. He laughs, covering a hand over his mouth.

“Last night I thought plenty,” he says with a wave of his hand. “I wondered if you could come so hard it would make you cry. I bet you’d look pretty.”

You swallow hard. Your hands are getting clammy, clutching the toy. You cannot even fake any indignance, so turned on it is making your head spin.

“That’s rude,” you say in a rasping voice, “I was crying and you were—”

“I waited to touch myself, thank you,” he teases.

“Jeongin wouldn’t do that,” you say, looking back at him. He is staring up at the ceiling, blinking too quickly and too innocently. “Jeongin!” you exclaim.

Hyunjin laughs some more, a gleeful little cackle behind his hand. You huff dramatically, trying and failing to frown at them.

“My friends are perverts,” you say.

Hyunjin is reclining in an insouciant slouch. Jeongin is sitting upright behind you. You look between them as they look at each other, seemingly conversing through nothing but a series of blinks. Jeongin smiles first, winking at you when you meet his eye. He is holding your gaze when Hyunjin moves, smooth and quick. They crowd you, one on either side, each with a hand on your thigh.

You make a noise, a surprised little whimper as you spill onto your back. You clutch the toy for dear life as Jeongin strokes your inner thigh and Hyunjin’s long fingers trace your waistband. You gasp when Hyunjin slides right in, under your shorts but over your underwear. You are so turned on that there is no hiding it, the fabric wet under his searching fingers.

“Takes one to know one,” he says with a smile. “Maybe that’s why we’re friends.”

“I don’t think we’re just friends,” Jeongin says while sliding the toy out of your hands. He turns it on and your clit pulses under Hyunjin’s fingers, trained to react to the noise.

Hyunjin laughs, his breath on your neck. He moves his hand while Jeongin presses the toy between your legs, over your shorts and panties but nonetheless immediately effective. You squirm a little. The onslaught of sensation has your thighs twitching to close.

The boys shuffle quickly. You find yourself sitting between Jeongin’s legs, your back against his chest. Hyunjin kneels in front of you, holding your legs open so you cannot escape the toy’s blissful torture. You can feel an orgasm winding up ridiculously fast. You have not had a proper relationship but you have fooled around, but it was never like this. Even by yourself with a toy, an orgasm would take time. You have a breath to realize you are going to come, hard, legs spread for your boys.

It hits you quickly but deeply, rolling vibrations of pleasure that have you rearing up. You start to cry out and Jeongin covers your mouth even though you are alone, catching the sound in his palm. He holds the toy with his other hand, keeping it in place while Hyunjin holds your legs so you feel every tingling second of aftershocks.

When you whine into his palm, Jeongin lets you go and turns off the toy.

The room feels very quiet when the toy stops. You come to reality, remembering you are in your parents’ house in your old bedroom. Your parents might not be home but it still seems wrong to get down and dirty with your old teddy bear staring at you.

Hyunjin follows your line of sight. He grabs the bear and turns it around.

Okay. It’s fine now.

You twist around and grab Jeongin, kissing him roughly. He holds you as desperately, kissing back with the same fervour. Hyunjin gets his hands on your shorts and tugs them down. They are only off one leg, dangling around your knee, when he dives in and starts kissing your pussy through your underwear.

You are still sensitive from your orgasm, moaning into Jeongin’s mouth while Hyunjin torments you with his. When he moves the material out of the way, your legs start shaking again. Jeongin reaches down to touch you too, his fingers brushing Hyunjin’s lips. Hyunjin sucks the taste of you off his fingertips then dives back in.

You are caught by surprise when you come again. Jeongin catches your cry, covering your mouth again as you shake in his arms. A tear spills loose just from the sheer sensation of such rapid orgasms. Your body feels like a live wire, all lightning and electric energy.

Hyunjin kneels upright, looking at the tear running down your face. You whimper into Jeongin’s hand when Hyunjin licks it off your cheek.

“Knew you’d be pretty like that, baby,” he says.

You pry Jeongin’s hand off your mouth. It goes easily. In the end, they follow your lead. You know your boys. They would do anything for you. They would start. They would stop.

You do not want them to stop.

“Fuck me,” you say, so quietly it does not even penetrate the silence. Even so, Hyunjin slides his hand between your legs and slides two fingers right inside you, so easily because you are so wet. Jeongin squeezes your breasts in his hands, over your shirt then tugging the fabric up and over to get his hands on your bare skin.

“What was that?” Hyunjin asks. He brings those wet fingers to his lips and licks your wetness off them.

“F-fuck me,” you say, still a whisper but clearer. “Please.”

“Well,” Jeongin says, kissing your temple. He smiles at Hyunjin. “Since you asked so nicely.”

You all tumble over, laying on your sides. Jeongin is nestled behind you, Hyunjin in front of you. Jeongin lifts your shirt over your head while Hyunjin finally removes everything below your waist. You slip your hand between your thighs while they whip off their shirts and boxers.

Then it feels like their hands are everywhere. Yours too, reaching forward for Hyunjin, reaching back for Jeongin. You hold his hip while he rocks against you, his cock gliding along your backside.

“I’ll go first,” Hyunjin says, manhandling you onto your back then getting up between your legs.

“You kissed her first,” Jeongin argues, shoving him. Hyunjin shoves him back.

“You’re bigger,” Hyunjin says, nodding to his dick. “I’ll get her ready.”

You did not actually get a good look at Hyunjin’s dick before he put it inside you. If Jeongin is bigger, you are almost worried, because Hyunjin is bigger than anything you have had down there. You make a keening, high-pitched noise, mouth open as he presses inside you.

Jeongin lays beside you, reaching down to rub that still-tingling bundle of nerves. It helps, your eyes closing and head falling back. Jeongin kisses the exposed line of your throat while Hyunjin starts moving inside you.

“Ohh—” you say, your hands moving all over his chest. You clutch one shoulder and reach for Jeongin with your other hand. He guides it to his dick, helping you find a rhythm, stroking his length while Hyunjin fucks you.

It goes on for a time, then Jeongin curses, squeezing your hand around him. He nods to Hyunjin.

“Move,” he says. “My turn.”

Hyunjin, panting, pushes some hair off his sweaty forehead. He moves backwards down the bed, stepping right off. You yelp with surprise when he grabs your legs and yanks you down the bed. He grabs your hips and flips you over, then gestures to Jeongin.

“Your turn,” he confirms. They switch places, Jeongin kneeling behind you while Hyunjin kneels in front of you. You get up on your elbows, lifting your hips while Jeongin thrusts in. He wastes no time, evidently already on the brink from your ministrations. It means your gentle lover is suddenly pounding into you, your fingers forming fists in the bedsheets, yanking the covers everywhere as you pant and moan.

“Sooo pretty,” Hyunjin says, cupping your face in both hands. You know what he wants without asking, opening your mouth eagerly. You doubt it is the best head ever, especially considering half your attention is on Jeongin, your body moving where he wills it. But you manage, savouring the moment and already imagining every variation of position for the future.

You look up at Hyunjin, kissing the tip of his dick then saying in a rough voice, “I want both of you one day.”

“Fuck,” Jeongin says and immediately comes, grinding deep inside you. Hyunjin grabs you by the neck and puts you back on his dick, murmuring a string of expletives just as colourful until he comes.

You think it is over when Jeongin pulls out. Cum is dribbling out of your mouth when Hyunjin sits back. He wipes his thumb over your lips, pushing them closed.

“You can swallow,” he says. His touch is a suggestion, not forceful, so you could ignore it. But you gaze up at him and swallow.

And while you are doing that, Jeongin grabs the toy and puts it back between your legs. You almost scream, bucking when it comes to life on your dripping pussy. Hyunjin cups your face in his hands again, stroking your cheeks while you ride the pulsing vibrations. Another couple tears spill and he wipes them away with his thumbs, cooing sweet nothings at you the entire time.

They wring three more orgasms out of you before you basically collapse, exerted and sweating and panting.

“God,” you rasp, laying on your side, still breathing hard. “I’m gonna need to get in shape for this. Two boyfriends is no joke.”

The three of you laugh, then you get to enjoy the spoiled princess treatment that is having one boy to cuddle while the other fetches water and a towel. When you finally get to sleep, it is nestled safely between your boys, murmuring sweet words at each other in sleepy tones until you fall asleep.

Your parents return at lunch the next day. While Jeongin helps your father grill and Hyunjin sets the table, you help your mother prepare a side dish. She is practically beaming at you.

“Do I want to know why you slept at the neighbour’s last night?” you ask.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” your mother says. She kisses your forehead. “I heard you on the phone the other night. I know you lied about having a boyfriend.”

“What?!” You look at her with alarm and surprise. “But – but you didn’t say anything! You acted like Jeongin was my boyfriend the second he arrived!”

“Of course!” your mother says. “Look my dear, anyone can find a boyfriend. Walk onto the street and throw a rock, there’s one with his head out the car window like a dog. Easy. Not everyone can find a man who shows up to a party and pretends to be her lover, expecting nothing in return, and doing it just because he loves her. And you found two.”

Your mother wraps you in her arms. You are still surprised but you hug her back.

“I’m sorry I made you feel so pressured,” she says. “I just worried about you all alone in the city, but now I see you’re not alone. But, you know, I am a mother, and I saw how those boys looked at you, so I figured… well…”

“Mom!” you cry, a little mortified she intentionally set you up.

“Did it work?” she asks with an eyebrow wiggle.

You are laughing helplessly, shaking your head, which only makes her laugh.

“I knew it,” she says. “Sometimes fate just needs a hand. Maybe two.”

“We’re not talking about this anymore,” you say, walking away.

“You are glowing this morning. Maybe I should get another man too.”

“Mom, please!”

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #jeongin x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #yang jeongin smut #jeongin smut #hyunjin x reader x jeongin #hyunjin x you #jeongin x you #hyunjin x you x jeongin #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader

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highvern · 4 months

Text

Baby Blues

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, domestic!au

Warnings: gross tooth rotting fluff, dad!gyu mom!reader.

Length: ~500

Note: Drunk Goggles couple is back! for a moment! I'm in a bit of a slump and needed something easy and they're so near and dear to my heart. I saw a tiktok of a baby refusing to say dada and i couldn't let it go. threw in some speech development bc im annoying (babies use their lips to say M and B sounds and their tongues to say D which is a skill they develop later)

also GIRL DAD MINGYU SUPREMACY

read more here

“Say da-da.”

“Mama!”

“Your daughter hates me.” Mingyu huffs, head falling to the kitchen table with a thunk.

Hana delights in her fathers dramatics, squealing her joy while yogurt goes flying. Her chubby fists clap against the plastic table of her high chair and little legs kick out. Mingyu smiles through the pain, never able to truly be annoyed with his favorite person in the world.

Mingyu had been trying to get her to say dada for the better part of an hour. So far each request was either answered with "mama", bubble noises, or unintelligible baby gibberish. You'd simply watched the entire thing unfold from behind your coffee cup, smirking into the rim at Mingyu's desperation.

“Our daughter doesn’t hate you." You say, rolling your eyes. "She’s a baby.”

“No, she hates me. Watch. Say dada, Hana.”

Hana doesn’t pause before shrieking, “Mama!”

“See!” He argues, arms out towards the babbling baby like she's torturing him on purpose.

“She just loves her mama, don’t you Hana?” You coo at her, stroking the top of her head covered in wispy hair as you wipe the mess of drool and her breakfast away.

“Ggggh!”

“Daddy is silly, isn’t he?”

“Bfffff.” Hana spits, ungracefully wiggling in her seat.

Eyes wide, you agree with her ramblings. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

“Hey! Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.” Mingyu pouts.

“We would never!” You give Hana a cartoonish wink that sends her into a fit.

Returning to the sink with dirty dishes, you listen to your husband try desperately to get Hana to say the words he’s been begging to hear since she called you mama for the first time a week ago. Hana humors him, pure sunshine under Mingyu’s constant attention; giggling at his crestfallen face every time like its new.

Deciding to take mercy, you approach Hana’s chair and lift her into your arms. “Gyu watch this. Hana, where’s baba? Baba?” You ask, pointing one of her pudgy fists directly at Mingyu.

“Bah…Bah?”

“She—she said—I’m baba!” Mingyu repeats dumbstruck, staring at your smiling face. “LETS GO!” He whoops, rising to bolt around the kitchen. Jumping around the room like he won the lottery, fists punching the air in victory.

It’s the same way he reacted when he found the positive test waiting for him on the bathroom counter almost a year ago. Unfiltered, unadulterated joy. Except there were far more tears when he found out he was going to be a dad, a broken lamp, and a broken couch.

Now, he grins like a mad man, chest puffed in pride that his daughter finally recognized him. As if it was ever a question despite Hana being a spitting image of Mingyu except for her nose which clearly comes from your gene pool. How she screams when he gets home from work and immediately picks her up for smothering kisses like he’d been gone more than a couple hours. Or when you’re all curled up on the couch and she falls asleep on his chest, her mouth open wide as she snores just like the man holding her. And the times all the boys visit to coo over their niece, bribing her with funny faces and silly voices to let them carry her, but the only person she reaches her little arms for his Mingyu.

Hana is Mingyu’s mini me, attached to his hip since her first day. But she's already learning how to get the best of him, no doubt a skill she inherited from you.

You and your daughter cackle in unison as Mingyu sweeps you both into a bear hug, alternating kisses between your lips and Hana’s almost bald head.

“My girls,” he says with a squeeze, content seeping into his words.

“Mama!”

There's a sigh of resignation, and a nod of his head. “We’ll work on it.”

#svthub #kim mingyu #mingyu fics #mingyu drabbles #mingyu fluff #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu fluff #mingyu x reader #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #dghe couple #🫡 highvern

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 1 month

Text

Vaggie: "Okay ha ha, very funny. Who stole me and Charlie's laundry out of the dryer again- Angel Dust!"

Angel Dust: "Wasn' me."

Vaggie: "Are you wearing my fucking skirt!?"

Angel Dust: "Ooooh~ it's a FUCKIN' skirt, huh? This one kept special for when Charlie jumps ya?"

Vaggie: "Que te la pique un pollo- NO."

Angel Dust: "Aw c'mon toots, we all know you have one~"

Vaggie: "Give me back. My skirt. You. Ass."

Angel Dust: "Speakin' of... is it really still YOUR skirt, Vagina, if MY ass is the one lookin' so utterly fine and fabulous in it?"

Vaggie: "YOU DONT HAVE AN ASS, ANGEL DUST."

Angel Dust: "Yeah? Then what's this beautiful thang here, hmm?"

Vaggie: "I don't know because there's nothing there for you to even POINT at, twig twink!"

Husk: "HA!"

Angel Dust: "Ugh fiiine. Since you're being nice an' usin' my preferred pronouns-"

Vaggie: "Twig???"

Husk: "Twink."

Angel Dust: "-I'll hand over the girlfriend-fucking skirt. The delicius heat from the dryer's mostly gone now anyway. Jus' lemme grab something to throw on over it first..."

Vaggie: "Seriously? THAT'S why you took it?? Dryer heat?"

Angel Dust: "Next best thing to hot bath at the end of a day's hard work, baby! A day's VERY hard, throbbing, aching work-"

Vaggie: "I will throw this spear at you. I WILL ruin your stupid hair."

Husk: "Fucking do it."

Vaggie: "YOU shut up too. You're the one who taught him this in the first place, aren't you?"

Husk: "WHAT? I don't put on your fucking skirts!"

Angel Dust: "Wha' about her non-fucking ones?"

Husk & Vaggie: "Shut up."

Angel Dust: "Touché~ Protestin' too much, me thinks~”

Vaggie: "Husk- we all know you're the one waiting for the dryer to finish so you can drag the laundry onto the floor and sleep on it!"

Husk: "That's bullshit- you've got no proof-"

Angel Dust: "Cat hair, Mr. Whiskers."

Husk: "The fucking hotel has a cat!"

Vaggie: "That smells like a bar and also sheds feathers?"

Husk: "FUCK."

Angel Dust: "Don't break yourself up over it, kitten daddy- If you hadn't shown me the joys of laundry shopping, I'd never have known how GOOD I look in this jacket."

Vaggie: "???? You- IS THAT CHARLIE'S!?!?"

Angel Dust: "Goes good with the skirt, huh? If you two had a kid, they'd fucking SLAY."

Vaggie: "WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU WEARING HER JACKET"

Angel Dust: "Look- she's the only one in this fancy prancy hotel that's got the same measurements as me, at least in the shoulder, hips, and torso department! The only one who's clothes don't smell like dead deer and dusty old radios, anyway!! I'm kinda low on options here, okay?"

Vaggie: "WHAT ABOUT THE OPTION OF DON'T StEAL OUR STUFF?? THAT'S LIKE, THE EASIEST FUCKING OPTION YOU COULD HAVE!"

Angel Dust: "Orrrrr, you two could adopt me as you gay lovechild and give me some fuckin' hand me downs. Or money."

Vaggie: “OUR WHAT!?”

Angel Dust: “Fuck it, give me money an’ I’ll buy my own clothes, mom.”

Vaggie: “I. Am. NOT-”

Charlie: “-hey guys! Has anyone seen my….”

Charlie: “…uh, Vaggie? Why is Angel Dust dressed like our gay lovechild?”

Angel Dust: “HA!”

Charlie: “And did he just call you ‘mom??’”

Vaggie: “I give up. Anyone needs me, I’ll be in the laundry room, shoving myself in the dryer on the hellfire setting.”

Husk: “You’ll have to fucking drag Niffty out first.”

Vaggie: “What.”

Charlie: “What?”

Angel Dust: “WHAT”

Husk: “She was crawling in head first when I left after waking up- uhh- after getting something.”

Angel Dust: (shrieking) “AN’ YOU LEFT HER THERE???”

Vaggie: “Oh shit-”

Charlie: “Vaggie- go! Fly!! Go go go now Now NOW- EMPLOYEE IN THE INDUSTRIAL CLEANING EQUIPMENT THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!!”

- meanwhile, in the laundry room-

THUMP THUMP THUMP

THUMP…. Thump………… thump

Alastor: “…”

Alastor: (reaches over to knock on dryer door)

Alastor: “Having fun, dear?”

Niffty: (flopping limply half out of dryer) (battered) (scorched) (GRINNING) “Ow pain!”

Alastor: “Quite.”

Niffty: “Heheheh… heHEHEHEH.”

Niffty: (sets the dryer to max again) “More…. PAIN!!!” (shuts door from the inside) (grins from other side with her face pressed against the glass)

Alastor: “Fascinating.”

Thump…Thump. Thump. THUMP THUMPTHUMP-

Cherri Bomb: “…”

Cherri Bomb: “…Know what? You kids have fun. I’m just gonna go, like, break into someone’s house and murder them so I can use their washer and dryer. That’ll be less fucked up than….. whatever this is.” (hefts basket of bloody laundry and bombs) (waves over her shoulder while leaving) “Bye~”

#hazbin hotel #vaggie #angel dust hasbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #chaggie #charlie morningstar #alastor the radio demon #niffty hazbin hotel #cherri bomb hazbin hotel #incorrect quotes #silly nonsense #that feeling when your coworker leaves their own bloodstains on the inside of the dryer machine #so you need to wash it before anyone can do laundry again #(and before cherri bomb can try quick-drying stuff with explosives in the mean time)#(......again)

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 2 months

Note

52,54,32, and 37 on the prompt list with melissa schemmenti pls😩🙏🏼

Mommy Knows Best ~Dark!Mommy!Melissa Schemmenti xFem CollegeStudent!Reader

Summary— Reader has been best friends with Melissa’s daughter, Abigail Schemmenti, and she has always butted head with Melissa… One fateful holiday break changes it all. Anon Response— Hi hi anon!! Thank you for the request! Absolutely. This went a little dark, but also a good amount of smut. Hope you Enjoy! ♥️

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#52. “Fuck… Mommy! … Oh my, I’m so sorry, it just… slipped out…?”

#54. “You can call me Mommy/Daddy if you want too…”

#32. Enemies to lovers troupe

#37. Best Friend’s Mom Troupe

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, heavy smut, dark fic, fingering, strap-on riding, age gap (all legal), enemies to lovers, best friends mom, degradation, praise, smutty smut, mommy kink, degradation kink, praise kink, overstimulation, overstimulation kink, teasing, taunting, implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

“Hey An’ you gonna keep that door open, right Abigail??” Your best friend’s mother shouted from the kitchen.

You rolled your eyes lightly at Melissa’s, as she insisted you call her, comment, as Abi, your bff, yelled back at her mother.

“Ughhhh Mooooooom, I’m not in high school anymore!!” Abigail yelled from her bedroom on the ground floor, “And I’m not even gay!!!”

“Doesn’t matta’!!! I am your mother, Abigail Ruth Schemmenti, and you will leave that door open!!” Melissa’s thick accent boomed through the house.

Now it was Abigail’s turn to roll her eyes, as you looked at her in apology for what she had to deal with.

“Fineeeee!!” Your best friend shrieked back, leaving the door to her bedroom ajar, before turning her attention back to you.

“It’s not like I would do anything anyway…” you grumbled in annoyance, from the edge of Abi’s childhood bed, “I don’t like you like that…”

Abigail came to sit on the edge next to, leaving against the headboard as she rolled her eyes once more.

“I know, my mom, she’s just… ughhhhh!!” Abigail groaned, squeezing her fists together dramatically in the air.

“Yea…” you chuckled, “At least you don’t have to see her much anymore… well except holidays and breaks…” you comforted her.

Abigail sighed.

“That’s true… Anyways, to you…” she said, quickly changing the topic to something more upbeat and less tension filled,

“You still banging that hot redhead…?” Abigail said in a low tone, while wiggling her eyebrows.

You looked away in awkwardness, clearly not wanting to discuss that subject. You and Abi had been friends since middle school, so she knew your cues. And Abigail immediately understood that she had touched upon a sore subject.

“No, it’s fine… It just… didn’t work out…” you muttered.

“Hey, it’s okay…” Abi comforted you, coming forward to grab your left hand on the bed, but you pulled away, so she retracted, leaning back against the headboard.

You finally looked over to your bff after a moment in sadness and embarrassment.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be. You’re my best friend. When you’re ready to talk about it, I know you will…” She reassured you.

You gulped and then nodded. Abigail then met your gaze with a mischievous smirk, before proceeding to throw a pillow at you. The fluffy square hit you right in the face, making you yelp and look at your bff in mock shock.

“Hey!!” You exclaimed, then throwing it back, but missing terribly.

Abigail was laughing, and soon you were as well. Her laugh was always so infectious. Your best friend always knew how to make you feel better. After you had both caught your breath, you spoke,

“So, how’s college for you?” You asked.

While you she chosen to stay in Phili for college, Abigail had gone to Chicago. It was the ultimate betrayal against her mother, and you knew that Abigail needed an out. You always looked forward to holidays and breaks, because that meant that you would get to see your best friend again.

“Don’t tell my mom… but it’s so freakin’ nice…” Abigail sighed with a little giggle, leaning in close so that only you would catch her confession, “And… I met a guy…”

Your eyes widened and you smiled wide. Your eyes lit up, you were truly excited for your best friend. You smacked your best friend’s foot playfully.

“Alright!! Let’s go, Abi!!!” You exclaimed in a low whisper.

Abigail went a little red and giggled even more. She was about to delve into more detail about this new mystery man, before Melissa came into the doorway of Abigail’s room.

“Abigail, Momma needs some mozz and a couple other things for her lasagna tonight… Run to the Italian bistro that Uncle Joe runs and pick some up fresh for me?” Melissa spoke leaning against the doorframe, asking it like a question, when it really was an order.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Abigail couldn’t say no to her mother, especially in person. Abigail immediately agreed, and Melissa was quick to flash a fake smile and hand her daughter a list of a dozen things that would take Abi at least and an hour and a half to acquire.

“I’ll go with…” you mumbled, as Abigail got ready to leave.

Standing up and grabbing your coat from the nearby chair, you went to walk past Melissa and follow Abigail, but Melissa grabbed your arm, halting you in place.

“Stay.” She purred, flashing another one of those sickening smiles.

Your stomache flipped upside down, and your eyes widened. Abigail was at the other end of the hall, towards the living room, grabbing her keys and turning back towards you.

“You coming?” Your best friend asked.

You gulped, looking from your bff to Melissa, then back to Abigail.

“I… Actually I think I’ll stay… Help M-Melissa with all the cooking…” you stammered.

Abigail looked at your quizzically, but Melissa was swift to turn on her heels, now facing her daughter.

“No worries right, you can handle it alone, can’t you Abigail…?” Melissa cooed, batting her eyelashes at her impressionable daughter.

Abigail stammered a yes before promptly leaving out the front door. You gulped and just stood there, a little awkward. Melissa after a second then turned back to you.

“Why don’t you help me in the kitchen, hmmm babe…?” Melissa cooed sweetly.

Shivers went through your spine and the lump in your throat became apparent at the pet name, and you just stared at the woman, frozen in the moment. Then linking her arm in yours, Melissa guided you to kitchen before you could even respond.

She let you go at the kitchen island, leaving you there as her hips swayed to the liquor cabinet. She reached up and opened the cabinet, then twisted her gaze to you, a certain glimmer in her eye.

“You drink, ‘Hun…?” Melissa coyly asked, “I assume you do by the way my liquor cabinet was always raided, and Abi is such a good girl, she would never drink unless influenced by someone like you…”

Your mouth stood open as you stood frozen once more at the kitchen island counter. Melissa chuckled, pulling you back into reality and registering the dig that your best friend’s mom had just made to you. You gritted your teeth and stared daggers into the woman as her back was turned to as while she got two classes and some red wine.

She came to the other side of the counter, popping the wine cork and beginning to pour two glasses. Your heart was racing and you were fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

“I only drink on occasion…” you grumbled, answering Melissa’s question, “And you’d be surprised at what Abi does…”

Melissa flashed you a wicked smile and cocked her eyebrow, handing you the glass filled with the alcohol. You immediately took a sip or three to try and calm your nerves.

“Oh is that so…?” She hummed, coming around the island, wine glass in hand, and linking her free arm in yours once more,

“Why don’t you tell me all about that, and maybe I won’t bust you for being a minor consuming alcohol…” Melissa teased, as she guided you into the living room.

“S-she’s my best friend… I’m no snitch…” you breathed out, your heart pounding in your ears.

Melissa chuckled and guided you to the two person love seat in the living room, sitting down next to you, and taking a sip of her own wine. You followed suit, sipping more of the red, liquid courage. It tasted sweet and expensive.

“Touché… I knew there was something about you…” she purred.

Melissa held her glass with her left hand and placed her right on your left, exposed thigh. Your eyes widened and you looked at her hand. Sparks of electricity rushed through your entire body, all ending up in the same place, your throbbing core. You gulped, turning you attention to your glass and taking some more sips of alcohol.

“Back there I heard something about a certain redhead… Why don’t you tell me about that…?” Melissa hummed, that wicked smirk back on her face, with a tilt to her head.

Her fingers started to caress your thigh, and you weren’t sure whether you deeply regretted or thanked god that you had decided to wear a skirt today.

“I… I was seeing her… but… she cheated on me…” you stammered, looking at your wine glass as your swirled the red liquid in the glass.

“Poor Cucciolina…” Melissa purred, with an edge to her tone,

Her fingers worked their way further up your thigh, you felt your pussy clench around nothing. You felt the woman’s lips graze against your ear, making your breath hitch.

“I would never do that to you…” Melissa purred in the shell of your ear.

Your stomache was bursting with feelings, twists and butterflies and knots and rocks. Your lips parted as you let out an obviously desperate whimper. Melissa chuckled darkly in your ear. Then you felt her warm mouth on your neck. Your neck immediately craned back for her access, and you let out breathy groan as she sank her teeth into your skin.

At this point you knew you regretted nothing, the pleasure and intensity was all worth it. You knew it was probably wrong, that this was your best friend’s mom. And this woman drove you crazy… you hated how she treated your best friend. She was certainly never mom of the year.

But as her mouth wandered down your neck, you knew you needed more. Sucking, and licking, and biting, and marking all along your exposed, goose bumped skin, all logic and ideas of right and wrong were thrown out the window.

Melissa, it seemed, had already placed her glass aside on the side table, and as she sucked a bruise along your neck line, her hands followed your arms and proceeded to take the glass away from you. She pulled away momentarily, making you whimper and and try to lean into her touch, but Melissa was quick to put you back in your place.

“You take what you are given… Understand…?” Melissa purred warily, the hand on your thigh tightening and threatening to leave a mark.

You sucked in a breath, straightening your back as you swiftly nodded. The woman then eased her grip to your thigh and brought your glass up to your lips, pressing and tilting it into your mouth.

“Good. Now drink up…” She breathed out, smirking as you immediately complied.

You gulped the rest of the sweet yet tangy liquid down. Melissa then set the glass aside. As some of the excess wine dribbled down your chin and neck, Melissa leaned forward, her tongue expertly licking up all the dribbled wine from your exposed skin. Your pupils darkened and blew out at the sight, your heart faltering at how hot your best friend’s mom looked while licking up the red liquid from your skin. You shivered once more at the thought of how good her tongue would feel in other places…

Melissa read your reaction like a children’s picture book. She drank in your blown out pupils, erratic breathing, goosebumps, and much more to come… Her fingers now dipped into your inner thighs, her access stunted by your closed legs. They stopped moving, teasing, and it made you want to scream. Scream at the woman to keep going. Scream at her that she was insane. Scream that this was wrong. Scream and beg her to not stop. Scream out in many expletives how much her teasing was driving you crazy. But all that came out was a pathetic whimper.

“Awwwww… Are you conflicted, ‘hun…?” Melissa mockingly cooed, her voice dripping with taunts and lust, “Can’t decided whether you want me to hate you or fuck you…?” Her voice purred darkly and lustfully.

Jolts of pleasure and electricity erupted through your core at the woman’s tone, brashness, pet name, and use of an expletive. You bit your lip as you let out a breathy gasp. The combination of the alcohol and her teasing was making you dizzy.

You wanted… you didn’t know what… actually you did. But it was too difficult to admit it to yourself. For years, you had stuffed all your feelings down, you had reverted to others to fulfill your desires. All because it was too hard to accept your desires for your best friend’s mom.

Your desires for the redheaded woman. The desire to have an older, more experienced partner. Your want to be dominated and controlled by the woman that drove you crazy. Your want to throw logic and your best friend aside and kiss her. The woman who was overbearing and controlling to your best friend. The woman who you’d imagined late at night many times when your fingers worked skillfully in between your legs.

As if Melissa knew the exact thoughts racing through your mind, she interrupted,

“You know what I think…?” Melissa cooed wickedly, pushing your legs open slowly just enough to fit her hand in between your plush thighs,

You watched her fingers attentively, as your heart pounded in your head and beads of sweat ran down your face. Melissa proceeded to lick the bead of sweat off of your face and neck.

“I think that you try so desperately hard to hate me… I think you don’t like me because of Abigail… You think I’m a bad mother.” Melissa purred, as her fingers circled patterns deeper into your inner thigh going under your skirt,

Her other hand had put the empty wine glass aside, and was now tugging at your flimsy shirt. She tugged the sleeves down with ease, and cupped your bare breasts. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let out a breathy whimper, internally praising whatever higher power that you had decided to go braless that day.

“I think you project all of this for Abigail and for your own sanity… Because it’s easier to accept than the truth… The truth that keeps you up at night. I keep you up at night…” the older woman continued to lustfully cooe,

But your eyes shot open, your hips jolted forward, and you let out a pathetic mewl, as two of her digits finally ran up and down your clothed core, while simultaneously taking your left nipple in her mouth and twisting your bus with her teeth.

“AhhHhHhh—” you choked out in a mewl, desperate and quickly meeting Melissa’s gaze as she drank you in with a wicked smirk.

If she didn’t have you attention before, she definitely had it now…

“And the truth while you can’t stand the fact of it… is that you can’t help how your body reacts to me… craves me… needs me…” Melissa darkly chuckled, her tone low and seductive by the end.

Your head was swimming and you don’t even remember when it started, but your hips were grinding against the ghost of the woman’s fingers. You let out a shuttering breath, whimpering and moaning as the redhead’s mouth started to mark up and tease your breasts. Her dark, lust glistening eyes met your desperate gaze.

“Say it, Cucciolina… Tell me I’m right. You know I am…” Melissa breathed out, while switching from one tit to the other.

“You—You’re right…” you stammered, panting, completely out of breath.

Melissa seemed to like that, because you quickly felt her two digits back on your core, sneaking around your panties, to find your semi-wet pussy.

“Mmmmm… you aren’t dripping… I’ll fix that.” She lustfully purred, growling the last part in her seductive, low tone.

Her fingers swiftly plunging into your core, your body immediately spasmed, her walls fluttering and clenching around her digits. Your hips stuttered to keep pace with her delicious assault against your cunt.

“Holy Fuck… Mommy!!…” you shrieked, your whole body exploding with pleasure as her fingers curled deep inside you over and over again.

Your eyes widened and your face went beet red at your words. Your hands were gripping the couch tight, so tight your knuckles were white. But that wasn’t your current concern…

“Oh my, I’m so s-sorry, it it just… slipped out…?” You stuttered, not able to meet the woman’s gaze in embarrassment.

But Melissa only smirked even more. Her thrusts and curls of her digits inside your pussy only intensified, fucking you faster and deeper. You groaned, really loud, as her fingers filled, stretched, and scissored your pussy.

“No apologies… you look real pretty, accepting who you really are…” Melissa cooed wickedly, “Look at me.”

Your eyes went wide and you turned your head back to the older woman. Her tongue was swirling around your right bud, and it made you cry out in pleasure once more. This only spurred the redhead on even more.

“Say my name, baby…” she commanded wickedly.

The squelching of her fingers knuckle deep in your pussy, combined with your sinful noises made the room reek of sex and lust. When you didn’t respond, a third digit slipped inside you, the older woman’s pace never faltering one bit.

“Oh Shit MOMMY!!!” You shrieked, her fingers stretching you out even further and your hands only tightening their grip on her couch.

Melissa hummed in delight, her other hand now replacing her mouth at your tits, while her mouth went to assault your pressure point. Your hips jerked up to grind against her hand, desperately seeking friction against your clit. Babbles and string of whimpers erupted from your throat, your mind now fully gone.

“So needy…” the older woman chuckled, continuing all her administrations with lust and intention, “You can call me Mommy if you want too…”

Her words sparked even more intense pleasure throughout your entire body, and you felt your hands start to wander, but your resisted the urge, part of you not being able to understand how this could have switched on such a dime. Part of you still hated her. So your hands stayed off of the woman. But your hips and the rest of your figure told a whole different story… and your moans and whimpers was all the confirmation that Melissa needed.

“Such a slutty girl for mommy, aren’t ya’…?” Melissa cooed lustfully.

The older woman pumped her digits into you with skill, precision, and speed. She watched you with intent gaze, seeing exactly what curl and thrust pattern made you moan and jolt and scream. Melissa was a quick learner, and the closer she pushed you to the edge, the better she learned the pleasures of your body.

“Oh baby… Are you gonna cum…? Need to cum for mommy so bad…?” Melissa taunted you with a dark chuckle.

Your eyes were screwed tight shut as you nodded vigorously. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your orgasm crashed over you. Your hips stuttered in their rhythm of grinding into the redheads hand, but Melissa kept up her pace of fucking you through your climax. Even after you came down, the older woman didn’t stop. You squirmed in oversensitive pleasure as she didn’t relent.

“M-mommyyy please…!!” You whimpered, thrashing against her in the amount of intense pleasure you felt as she drove you to your next impending climax.

“Poor little slut… Can’t get enough of mommy…??” Melissa jeered lustfully.

Your hips stuttered as they rutted against her hand. The sounds of your pussy squelching rang in your head, pushing you only further to the edge. You felt like you were being suffocated, but in a deliciously dizzy way. Your mouth was open, your tongue out as you gasped for breaths in between each precise thrust of her digits.

Right as you were approaching your second orgasm however, Melissa pulled out of you. Your eyes flew wide open and your jaw dropped, followed by a desperate whimper. The older woman’s eyes sparkled and she had a wicked grin plastered on her face.

“Hush, baby.” Melissa purred, grabbing you and pulling you into her lap.

You gasped as you felt something in between her legs. You immediately began grinding down on her bulge, your breaths turning ragged and your hands on her shoulders for support.

“Mommy wants your next high to by on my cock…” Melissa hummed with a dark edge to her tone.

You looked up from your administrations and gulped. You nodded vigorously.

“Please” you whispered, “need it… need it so bad mommy…” while grinding roughly against the woman’s lap.

Melissa chuckled and had you undress all the way as well as helping her, so that in a couple minutes, you were back in her lap, naked and ready for mommy’s cock. Your hands came to the woman’s tits and chest, playing with her as she lined you up with her plastic dick.

With a low groan, you began to sink down onto the woman, all the way to the hilt of the strap. You let out a sinful whimper, feeling full but still unsatisfied. Melissa’s hands held your hips in a firm grip, and her back arched into your touch. She tantalizingly wiggled her hips below you, making the strap-on move slightly inside you. Another desperate whimper and then groan left your lips.

“What’s to stop mommy from just having you cockwarm my dick…?” Melissa cooed wickedly.

You quickly met the older woman’s merciless gaze, desperation and begging all over your face.

“No no mommy please…!! Need it, need it so bad… mmm give it to me mommy uhhhhhh…!!” You cried out, your grip on the redhead’s shoulder and chest tightening.

In response, Melissa rolled your and her hips together, pushing her dick up and into you in one fluid motion, before pulling it partially out as her hips came back down. Your mouth opened in a silent plea, as your body convulsed in pleasure, the ridges of the toy overstimulating your tight cunt.

“Like that, pretty whore…? What mommy to give you slow, hard thrusts until you’re destroyed…?” Melissa taunted you darkly and full of lustful intent.

Melissa then continued these extremely slow yet brutal thrusts, pumping the toy in and out of your aching pussy. You wanted to cry. You wanted to cum. Every thrust was just not enough stimulation for you to cum, the woman knew exactly what she was doing. You tried to beg, babbles of pleading erupting from your lips already after the second thrust and every one after that, begging her to go faster, to fuck you rough. But Melissa didn’t listen.

“You need to learn that we do things mommy’s way, little slut… If you’re good, I’ll let you cum… eventually…” Melissa reassured you, after the eleventh tortuously slow pump in and out of your cunt.

You’d lost any and all composure. All your babbling was incoherent now, and you had tears streaming down your face. But anytime Melissa asked you if it was too much or if you wanted to stop, you begged her to keep going, pleaded with the woman to not let you off easy. Melissa’s face washed over with pride every time you cried to her that you wanted desperately for her to continue.

“What do you want, baby…? You want mommy to make you cum right…?” Melissa wickedly purred into your ear, while continuing to fuck you dumb at a brutally slow pace.

You nodded lazily, too cock drunk to say anything but slurred words.

“Pleaseeeeeee mmmommmyy…” you whined.

“Cum for mommy, honey, I know you want to… know you need it…” Melissa purred lustfully.

With one finally thrust into your sobbing pussy, the tight coil wrapped around your entire body suddenly snapped. The most intense waves of euphoria you’d ever experienced crashed over you, and you rocked back and forth in Melissa’s lap, as the woman guided you to ride her dick faster as you came.

“That’s it, such a pretty whore for mommy…” the older woman breathed out.

After a few minutes, you’d fallen limp in the woman’s lap, her cock still buried deep inside you. Melissa chuckled at how you put up a whiny fight as she took you off her cock. You didn’t like the sudden emptiness she now left you with, you wanted to feel her all over you again. Wanted to feel full and owned again.

But Melissa stood up, walking into the kitchen to clean her strap-on, and when she eventually called you into the kitchen, she promptly cleaned you up, before going back to her cooking and acting as if nothing had happened.

~~~

Melissa Schemmenti Masterlist

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chelseeebe · 3 months

Text

everything has changed

you and steve were once the bestest of friends, cruelly torn apart when you’re forced to leave hawkins suddenly. fifteen years on, everything has changed and yet, nothing has changed.

i had this idea a while ago and then have recently become re-obsessed with the song so decided to give it a rewrite! it’s kinda giving seven x everything has changed and i love that. i have a sitcom level idea of a part two for this but i’m not sure it’ll ever come to fruition

18+. no smut but my blog is 18+ :) mostly just fluffy friends to lovers stuff hehe

‎♡‧₊˚

“you promise we’ll be friends forever?” steve asks, quirking his little eyebrows up. still so innocent, so unaware that the world was a cruel place.

“i promise!” you’d shrieked, toothy grin beaming over at him as you sat poised on the climbing frame. “we’ll write letters every week and in the summer you can come and visit!”

steve whooped with glee, the metal frame shaking from the force of his body, “okay! my mom has your mom’s number so i can call you,” grubby hands clinging onto yours.

you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug, wobbling atop of your tower. full of hope and your shared joy. oblivious to how the next 15 years would play out.

life hadn’t been so kind as to keep the two of you in contact. steve’s mom had tried to explain it to him, but his poor seven year old brain couldn’t quite grasp it.

it was only when he was older that he had realised what had happened.

you had been whisked away to california, your mother’s home state, far away from your dad. for your safety of course. his mother had warned him not to mention where you had gone to anyone, and he’d stuck by that.

and really, life had gotten in the way of thinking about you too much. basketball tryouts and getting girls into the back of his bmw had taken precedence over fading thoughts of freckly girls he once knew.

steve was at college now, admittedly tagging along with robin, but he was enjoying it. he played basketball, studied children’s education and had even scored himself a kinda stable girlfriend.

he’s sat in the library, book open and unread in front of him on the table as robin attempts to convince him to go out tonight.

“it’ll be fun! besides, i promised my roommate that i’d go.. y’know she’s having a hard time,” turning on the puppy dog eyes that more often than not, worked on him.

he groans, “i don’t know rob.. finals are coming up soon and i really need to get this down if i wanna graduate with you,” though he makes no effort to actually pick up the book, more interested in the coffee robin had used as a bargaining chip.

“steve,” almost warningly, “come for an hour,” nodding at him, as if to subliminally make him agree, “and then i’ll help you study all day tomorrow, okay?” tilting her head, bright green* eyes glistening at him.

“fine,” succumbing to her pleas, “but you owe me,” sending a glare across the table as he finally turns the page.

robin grins, happy she’d gotten her own way. again.

they walk arm in arm into the bar, squeezing through the crowd as they attempt to locate robin’s mysterious roommate.

steve sighs, whispering into robin’s ear, “why do i have to be here? just because your roommate is a lonely weirdo, doesn’t mean you have to drag me out too,” pouting like a petulant child.

she pinches his arm, causing him to yelp into her ear, “this is why i used to pray for the ceiling light to fall on your head in mrs click’s class,” pulling away from him as she spots whoever she’s looking for.

“wait.. what?” he calls out after her, weaving through the crowd to find her again.

she has her face buried into someone’s shoulder, blabbering about the busy bar and how good it was to get out.

robin pulls away, gesturing over to steve as this lucrative stranger meets his eye.

it’s you.

the little girl who had promised to be his best friend forever now stood before him, all grown up. he almost doesn’t believe it. in fact, he can’t. not until you speak, his name echoes around meaninglessly.

“what the fuck?” he gasps, still in utter shock.

“it’s really you? you’re.. oh my god, you’re steve of course you are,” wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug, the exact way you had fifteen years ago.

you even smell the same, a distinct sort of vanilla smell that takes his mind hurtling fifteen years into the past. he almost wants to throw up from the turbulence of it all.

“i can’t believe you’re here,” you gasp, still nuzzled into his shoulder, “this is so surreal,” now holding him at arms length, dissecting his face in the same way he was yours.

you looked the same and yet completely different. no more gappy smiles or sun bleached hair, very pretty. his seven year old self had thought so too, but your friendship had meant more.

“you two know each other?” robin perplexes, watching the scene unfold with zero context.

“we.. uh- yeah,” unsure of how much he can divulge, still under strict orders from his mom to never tell a soul where you’d gone.

“we were friends, i was born in hawkins so.. god, this is so weird,” you exasperate, letting go of his frame to talk to a bewildered robin.

“you’re from hawkins? you told me you were from california?” robins face twists in confusion.

“it’s a.. complicated story,” you look back at him, still trying to decipher if he was even real, “i moved away when i was young but we were like, best friends,” baring your teeth with your smile.

“well shit, i’ve got time,” robin laughs, sliding into the booth, she looks up at steve, “drinks on you.. you know, to celebrate,” wiggling her brows in that irritating way she did when she wanted something.

he dutifully obliges as you begin your story, he supposes that now you probably can.

your dad had moved out of hawkins a while ago, it wasn’t exactly a secret as to why you guys had just up and left so abruptly. steve had always hated him, made sure to glare daggers into his back when he and his mother would pass him in the street or in melvalds. he felt he owed you that.

plus steve was angry, angry that you’d had to leave him behind because of your dad. his tiny mind couldn’t comprehend that it was for the better, only understanding that it was your dad’s fault his best friend had been taken from him.

steve’s curious about california, how your life differed from hawkins. you play it off as nothing special but you smile differently when you speak of afternoons after school spent on the beach and learning to surf.

he makes some off-hand comment about making it out which causes your brows to furrow, “so did you,” tapping the table in front of him, “remember we would talk about college? living in a big house together?”

he chortles, almost choking on his beer, “yeah, with ten dogs and three cats,” shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all.

“wow..” robin butts in, “so you did this with other girls before me?” faux-offence written all over her face.

you beam, looking between the two of them, “so are you guys dating?”

steve does choke this time, sputtering as the bitter liquid slides down the back of his throat.

“no!” they chime in unison.

“jesus christ, you think i’d date him?” robin falls into a fit of giggles, it didn’t hurt his ego anymore. robin had very particular tastes and that very much didn’t include men.

“thanks rob..” he snarls jokingly, “i uh, i have a girlfriend.. just not robin,” he’s not sure why he’s apprehensive to tell you. christ, he’d only re-known you for five fucking minutes.

“sorry, i just assumed..” shrinking into your seat, desperate to change the subject.

he’s modestly pleased that you don’t ask any more about his girlfriend, which in turn makes him feel a rotten sense of guilt.

“yeah well, to assume makes an ass out of you and me,” robin adds, giving you a poke to your ribs for good measure, “and he’s definitely not my type,” her nose shrivelling up in disgust.

you snigger, poking robin right back as she explodes into her myriad of reasons why she would never date steve. she kept a list.

there’s a sickening feeling of affinity, like all the years you hadn’t been together just ceased to exist, they no longer mattered.

especially when your eyes meet as robin prattles on, like you’re sharing an old joke.

he doesn’t like this, doesn’t fancy his odds of coming out of this unscathed but that doesn’t stop him from shifting his chair closer as the night goes on. nor does it stop him from walking you home, supporting a tipsy robin on his arm.

and it most certainly doesn’t effect him when you hug him goodnight, nestling your chin into his shoulder the way you used to.

fuck.

steve climbs down the steps into the strange smelling studio, he hadn’t even known this ever existed. there’s art littering the walls, the shelves, just about any surface that was available.

you’re at the back of the empty room, dabbing a paintbrush onto a canvas, completely unaware of his presence.

“hey.. robin said you’d be down here,” he speaks softly, so as to not startle you.

you still jump, clutching your chest as you spin on your heel, “jesus christ,” panting rather dramatically, “you scared the shit outta me,” shock turning into a wide smile.

“sorry,” he chuckles, weaving through the easels, trying his damn hardest not to touch or knock anything over, “what ya’ working on?” peering at the canvas.

it’s a beautiful scene, a lone swing set lies in the middle, surrounded by a peachy-pink sunset. it’s reminiscent of something he can’t quite place.

“oh just..” shrugging him off, “some stuff for my exhibition.. i dunno if i like it yet,” downplaying the glorious work of art in front of him. as if there were any need.

“what are you talking about? it’s so good,” still clinging onto his backpack strap.

you shake your head, taking the apron off of your body, tossing it onto the hook full of other dirtied aprons. “i can do better.. anyway, did you trek all the way down here for a reason or..?”

he lingers by the painting for a second longer before turning to face you, remembering his actual aim, “yes! are you joining us for dinner tonight? robin wants you to meet all of our friends,” he offers, though he’s aware it’s not much of a deal for you.

“uh.. who’s gonna be there?” you ask, quirking a brow. he’s aware that you’re not exactly a social butterfly.

“well, nancy, jonathan, vickie.. argyle, if jonathan can convince him to come out,” they were all nice enough, if he and robin liked you, they definitely would too.

“i dunno..” wrinkling your nose.

“come on,” he pleads, “it’ll be fun.. they’ll love you. nance’s been begging me to get you out.. please?”

you shake your head, as if weighing up your options, “okay.. fine, but dinner’s on you,” as you drop the pallet into the sink for someone else to deal with.

“great,” he beams, there’s something to be said about the fact he still hadn’t introduced katie to the rest of his friends yet.. but he doesn’t wanna think about that.

his hand comes to rest on what he thinks is a dry desk, waiting for you to finish up, only to find his hand now covered in goopy white paint, “oh shit,” he fusses, pulling your attention from the sink.

“oh fuck, i should’ve told you that was wet..” looking between his outstretched hand and his eyes, a giggle bubbling on your lips as he stomps over to the sink.

“oh is this funny to you, huh?” joining you at the basin.

you run the hot water for him, grabbing the bottle of soap ready to clean his hand, “well it’s a little funny,” lips twitching while he stands like a lemon.

as steve normally does, he acts before he thinks, pressing his paint-covered palm to your cheek, only registering what he had done when you shriek in response, splashing water everywhere.

“you asshole!” you gasp, brows furrowed as you conjure up something for revenge.

that’s when you grab the still paint-covered brush and smear it over his cheek and nose, staining his features a daring bright orange.

“oh it’s like that is it?” he grins, grabbing your wrist with his clean hand, threatening to mark you again. “you don’t wanna mess with me, i’ve got the upper hand,” sticking his tongue out slightly, unable to shake the way your eyes still glistened the same.

“if you want me to come to dinner, you’ll put your hand down.. call a truce,” bargaining with him.

he obliges, holding his hands up in surrender, “okay.. okay, you win,” unable to contain his laughter as he washes the paint from his palm.

you shoulder barge him as you come back to the sink, pulling your clean brushes from the water and leaving them to dry on the metal board.

“we’re gonna have to swing by my room,” you smile begrudgingly, shoving your stuff into your bag, watching as he dries his hand.

“okay,” his grin still lingering, “personally, i think you should just come to dinner like that.. it looks great,” enjoying the ribbing that came with being your friend.

you scoff, practically pushing him out of the studio, ensuring he couldn’t wreck havoc on anything else.

the pair of you glide down the hall, steve filling you in on the guests that would joining you for dinner when a voice calls his name from in front.

katie bounds up to him, smile fading the second she sees the new colour of his face, “why are you orange?” face screwed up as she rescinds her offer of a kiss. he’s slyly thankful that your adorned his face now.

“oh we.. i- i tripped, got paint everywhere,” he chuckles, feeling like a scolded child.

katie hums, “right.. that’s kinda weird,” her eyes flit over to you and the paint on your face, “you trip too?” a judgemental look flashing across her features.

“no,” shrinking into yourself, “steve.. tripped,” doubting your own words, like your measly paint fight needed to be kept secret. but maybe that’s just how he felt, is that wrong?

he can’t decide.

“hmph,” katie frowns, her attention turning back to steve, “go and clean up.. you look like a clown,” before speeding off down the hall, ponytail flouncing around as she goes.

he just rolls his eyes continuing out of the building as you scurry along behind, “she seems nice,” sarcasm dripping off your tongue.

“ignore her,” brushing the whole encounter off, “she’s just.. pissy because i’m busy tonight, don’t take it personally,” offering a short smile. he glances at his watch, grimacing at the time, “oh shit, we’re late,” grabbing your hand as he starts sprinting ahead.

“i can’t meet your friends like this!” you holler, bounding behind him.

“they won’t mind!” he screams into the wind, dodging other students with a skill only possessed by someone who chronically sleeps through their alarm.

they really don’t.

in fact, robin bursts into laughter as you walk into the diner, “i’m not even gonna ask,” tapping the plush cushion for you to slide in next to her, steve follows closely behind.

the two of you share a look, an inside joke that was just yours. he liked that, it made him feel strangely important. like he was worthy of sharing things with just you.

everyone is lovely, obviously. he had no doubt that they would be. argyle corners you about california, discovering that it is a rather large state and no, you won’t have bumped into each other.

steve doesn’t want the night to end, he’s selfish like that. so he does the sane thing to ensure you spend as much time together as possible, walking you and robin back through campus, still adorned with paint.

“thank you.. for making me go,” you smile coyly once you reach your door, robin had already disappeared off inside, leaving just the two of you.

“no worries.. i told you they’d love you,” shoving his hands into his pockets, mostly so he doesn’t do anything stupid.

you chuckle, reaching for the door handle, “i’ve really missed you, you know? it’s like it’s all hit me at once,” shrugging your shoulders as if that were just some nonchalant comment he would ever be able to forget.

“i missed you too,” he adds, truly meaning it.

sure, he’d found friendship again but nothing had ever felt quite like you. it was different, and even now after years and years of being in separate states, with no idea that the other was even still alive, it all felt normal.

like you could walk back into that park tomorrow, sit on the swings and just natter away about everything and nothing like you used to.

“goodnight, see you tomorrow?” you smile, sliding through the door, waiting just long enough for his reply.

“of course,” returning the smile.

he hums all the way home, a child-like joy overrunning his senses. he thinks about you when he dreams, of sharing crayons and candy. high-pitched giggles and an unfaltering feeling of love.

it had been weeks of hanging out now, sharing tales from your childhood, robin was still struggling to understand that you were also from hawkins. “you’re just.. it’s crazy, you’re nothing like the usual hawkins dwellers and the fact that you were friends with him? wow..” she had muttered with a swift jab to steve’s arm.

she had had the bright idea of a sleepover, they hadn’t really been able to since moving to chicago, out of respect for their roommates but now her roommate was you, what was stopping them?

“why don’t we push the beds together?” robin blurts out, like a lightbulb had just gone ding on the top of her head.

you nod excitably, going to heave your bed across the room. steve pushes the end of the bed frame, connecting it to robin’s as she stands there doing absolutely nothing to help.

“phew thanks robin, couldn’t have done that without all your help!” steve quips, throwing his best friend a snide smile.

“shut up dingus, my nails are still wet,” as if that made it okay.

you smile at the two of them, stood in your pyjamas that steve had definitely not been gawping at. he doesn’t mean to, he knows it’s not like that. he has a girlfriend for christ’s sake.

that’s what he’s been telling himself anyway.

“you’re in the middle,” robin declares, looking at you, rather than him, “put your cold feet on somebody else for once,” before climbing into her side of the bed.

you slide in next, cuddling up to robin as you do. steve’s next, fashioned in his excuse for pyjamas, namely a chicago university shirt and his boxers. it probably wouldn’t go down well if katie were to find out but he didn’t particularly care.

there’s a joke there, something about sharing a bed with a lesbian and his childhood best friend but he can’t be bothered to think about it.

not when you turn over to face him, all smiles and warm cheeks, he has to remind himself that robin is on the other side of you, mumbling something about not waking her up early.

“goodnight,” you grin, relaxing into the pillow you shared as the light flickers off.

“night,” he replies, pulling his eyes away from your shadowy features, deciding that staring at the fuzzy ceiling was better than being a freak.

you roll over slightly, head falling onto his shoulder making his breathing falter, sworn to this position until you up and moved. it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make.

he shouldn’t be thinking like this, you’re friends, old friends to be exact. and he has a girlfriend.

except, he awakens in the morning, stiff shoulder and a cricked neck, taking a peek at the other side of the bed to find robin had forced you into him with her sprawling limbs.

you rouse not long after he does, blinking at the light and hurriedly moving your head from his dead arm.

“oh my god,” you remark, “i’m sorry.. was i on you all night?” wriggling around the small space you held.

steve exhales, lifting his arm in the air in an attempt to get some blood flowing back into the extremity, “yup.. it’s okay though,” quickly rolling over to face you, “sleep well?”

“well, apart from robin’s foot in my back.. yeah, pretty well,” chuckling into the pillow as you shy away. he wishes you wouldn’t.

“then it was worth the dead arm,” returning your abnormally bright smile, you were far too chipper for this time in the morning but he didn’t mind. made a difference from the usual grump robin was in, for sure.

“you should sleep over more often,” you smile.

he heart soars, god he’d love to. “oh yeah? like we used to?”

the crinkle by your eye returns, remembering times gone by, “yeah, just like that,” speaking softly, as if it wouldn’t take an industrial alarm to wake robin.

“you wanna go get breakfast?” he asks, before this devolves any further.

“absolutely.”

there’s a knock at the door, tommy doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even make a half assed effort to pretend to care so steve huffs and gets up to answer.

you’re stood on the other side, already smiling as you wait. it’s a welcome sight, without robin he’s been a little stir-crazy, not yet brave enough to venture to your room without her there.

maybe he’s afraid that something would happen, maybe he’s not. he’s not entirely convinced that he’d have the power to stop himself.

“i just came to give you a ticket.. for my exhibition, it’s on saturday so.. if you’re busy i totally get it,” you fret, offering out the ticket to him.

there’s an undetermined feeling in his stomach, looking down at the paper ticket in his pal, warmth rushing to his chest at the fact you’d even considered him.

steve steps out of the room, closing the door behind him, away from tommy and listening ears. tommy and katie were friends somewhat, mostly by association through his girlfriend carol. anyhow, he wasn’t keen on him telling some misconstrued story to carol and then reaping the punishment from that.

“wow..” still starstruck that you had asked him. “i’ll be there.. wouldn’t miss it,” sliding the ticket into his pocket, mostly so he would stop looking like a weirdo for staring at it.

“okay,” you nod, smile up to your ears, “it’s only small..” here you go again, downplaying your talent as if steve would ever care.

“stop it,” he warns, jokingly rolling his eyes, “hey, i’ll walk you back.. i needa get out of that fucking room,” gesturing for you to take the lead.

you chatter all the way across campus, talking about everything and nothing, he wants to ask if that painting of the swingset will be there but doesn’t. letting you blabber on about composition and the asshole gallery manager that wants you to set up at 6am.

its only when you reach your hall that you stop, turning to face him with a genuine smile that makes his heart thud.

“it’d really mean a lot if you came..”

he nods, stepping closer only just, “i will, i’ll be there,” assuring you as much as he could. he meant it, too. there’s really nothing he could think of that would make him not go.

he allows his gaze to slip to your lips, he lets himself do that even though he shouldn’t.

studying the curve, the slight gap between your bottom and top lip, the way they twitch with what he hopes is anticipation.

you’re both inching closer, neither of you acknowledging what’s about to happen. the air is thick, silent even. a knowing sense that you’re either about to ruin everything or become something more.

two doors down, a door swings open, a voice bellowing out, “i’ll catch up!” before a boy speeds out, glancing at the two of you briefly before disappearing.

you clear your throat, averting your gaze, studying the dirtied floor, “okay.. i’ll see you saturday,” coy smile as you unlock the door and potter off inside.

steve stands there, blinking at the wooden frame as if you’d somehow materialise from the other side.

he hightails it back to his room, in some sort of daze as he attempts to reconfigure himself. his relationship and his friendship with you. nothing made sense.

he’s not sure it ever will again.

fuck he wishes robin were here. of course she’s at some stupid family reunion when he needs her most. his next port of call would be you and well.. that didn’t seem particularly helpful.

he errs on calling robin, floating around his room with no purpose. at least tommy was no where to be seen, unsure if he could’ve handled his beady little eyes and snooping questions.

katie would be waiting on him, he always stayed over on thursdays, at least he used to. before you were back i. the picture. before you had completely consumed his mind with your stupid smile and stupid face. both a distant memory and an important part of his current life. it’s fucking dizzying.

it’s not really stupid, he thinks he’s stupid actually.

steve does what he does best and decides to ignore his brain, grabs his keys and storms out of his dorm. he’s grateful that katie’s house is on the opposite side of campus from your building. that way he couldn’t accidentally wind up there instead of where he’s supposed to be.

she welcomes him in, a pink, frilly house that steve had always detested a little bit. it smelt too strongly of vanilla and the other girls always side-eyed him, bitter and judgemental over something he couldn’t figure out.

it’s now that they’re sat on katie’s satin bedsheets that he realises that he really, really doesn’t want to be here.

nevertheless, he swallows it down. putting on false pretences as they fake-watch the shitty rom-com she’d turned on to fill the silence.

“so.. have you got your suit for saturday?” katie asks, playing with his limp hand.

“yeah,” resisting the urge to move his hand away, “sorry- saturday? i thought it was tomorrow?”

katie had asked- or more precisely begged him to escort her to this senior send off ceremony. some bullshit sorority ritual that made zero sense to him.

“uh.. no, always been saturday,” she’s still smiling, still trying, “steve, i told you weeks ago,” her frustrations seeping out of her pores, spilling over onto her features.

“you said friday,” so sure of himself, so sure that she was wrong. how would he forget that?

unless something, or perhaps someone was shrouding his mind.

“well, what plans are more important than your girlfriend’s senior send off?” she asks, all defensive.

he struggles to answer, there’s no way he can really spin it to make it sound less bad, strangled noises drift from his throat as the words fail to form.

“exactly,” katie pouts, crossing her arms over her chest, “you’ll just have to rearrange.”

steve doesn’t stay over, makes up some shoddy excuse about needing to study to get out of it. she’s not happy, obviously, but when is she?

he’s grateful that the campus is quiet as he stalks back to his dorm, thoughts swirling through his brain. everything is so confusing, his cushy little college life had been majorly disrupted and now all of the plans he had made had come crashing down.

there had been conversations about finding a house after graduation, moving in together randomly starting their life and yet, that couldn’t be further than what he wanted.

at least now.

steve finally gives up, turning to the only person he thinks will rationalise his thoughts, robin buckley. who has pulled her grandmother’s phone into the private dining room just for this conversation.

“we nearly kissed,” he spits out, eyeing the group of drunk students passing in the hallway. wouldn’t it be great if it somehow got back to katie through some nosy busybody.

“what? when? why didn’t you call me sooner?” she demands, “why didn’t you kiss? oh my god steve harrington, you’re so useless.”

“uh.. what do you mean why didn’t we kiss? remember my girlfriend? who’d chop my balls off if i ever cheated on her?”

“who cares? nobody likes her anyway,” robin roars right into his ear.

“i’m not gonna even acknowledge that.”

“okay, well, did you want to kiss her?”

steve pauses, perplexing the situation. he doesn’t need to really, of course he wanted to.

“..yeah.”

“well there you go!” she shrieks.

“it felt.. weird, i dunno, i think she wanted to too,” he curls the cord around his finger, “and now katie wants me to go to this senior send-off thing but there’s the exhibition.. i don’t know what to do,” his shoulders slumping.

“wait wait wait, what do you mean it felt weird?” dismissing his dilemma. you know, the thing he had actually called her about.

“well it felt right.”

the line goes silent but he can still hear her faint breathing down the line. she’s thinking, probably attempting to sweeten up her words. but eventually she sighs, “i think you know what to do.”

“but i don’t! rob i really don’t! why do you think i’m calling you at fucking one am?”

she clicks her tongue and steve can picture what smug look she has on her face, it was a signature feature of hers, especially when she’d been able to prove him wrong. “you do. i think you called me because you wanted me to tell you what you want to hear.. but i don’t even need to do that.”

he wails into the receiver, all he’d wanted was a clear cut answer from his best friend. a little advice and maybe some confirmation bias, was that too much to ask for?

“you’re no help,” he scowls, patting his now empty pockets in search of more coins, “i haven’t got any more change.. i’m gonna have to go,” sighing as he’s left on his own with his head once more.

“you’ll do the right thing, steve. i know you and i trust you,” before the line cuts out, the dial tone screams out.

he slams the piece of useless plastic back onto the holder. that wasn’t helpful, rather just some weird, reverse psychology lesson. he feels cheated, his first option of just flipping a coin would’ve been more helpful.

his feet drag along the carpet back to his room, swallowing the guilt and all of the other confusing emotions he seemed to have accumulated.

it’s funny that even though robin hadn’t exactly said anything specific, he’d known what she was talking about. it’s even funnier that as he climbs into bed, all he can think about is you.

steve hangs back, stood at the back while the speech finishes. he doesn’t know what he’s doing here, what he’s supposed to be looking at or talking to, incredibly out of place.

no one pays him any mind, too interested in whatever this balding man has to say.

you don’t spot him either, keeping your eyes trained to the art director. he can tell you’re nervous, picking indiscreetly at your hangnail, chewing on your cheek. you’d never liked, or been particularly good at public speaking, steve was your voice for many years. not that he minded.

there’s lots of chatter, people walking around the small space with their hands behind their back, putting on this facade that they were art snobs and not just weird middle-aged people looking for something to do on a saturday afternoon.

they all sort of disperse, ogling the paintings and such. leaving him stood in the middle of the room like a lemon, wondering if he should just go over to you or wait until this had all finished.

but you meet his eye momentarily, head snapping in his direction when you realise who it is. your lips slowly curve into a smile, ditching the conversation to weave through everyone to him.

“you came,” you state, like there was ever a chance of him not coming.

“i told you i would,” he’s not one to break a promise. ever.

“no i know but, robin mentioned something about your girlfriend, she didn’t know if you were.. forget it,” throwing your hands about, ridding the air of your words.

he’s not exactly surprised that you’d have doubts, not after your almost-kiss the other night. he hadn’t seen you since, too busy with the exhibit to sit and dwell on it, he bets.

steve shakes his head, “nah, i had something more important to do,” full of unbridled exhilaration, it’s like his body knew he had made the right choice.

you flush, avoiding his eyes as you usually do when you’re nervous or embarrassed. “well.. thank you,” shrugging him off. he so wish you wouldn’t.

he decides to just lay it all bare, tired of skirting around the truth and minimising his obviously very real feelings. “this isn’t the right time but,” smoothing down his wrinkled shirt, “i just wanted you to know that i’ve wanted to do this for weeks and.. shit,” he sighs, cupping your cheek and moving in before you can protest.

your lips connect, sending flames through his veins, you’re not expecting it judging by the lack of movement on your part, stood frozen even as he pulls away.

“sorry,” the first thing he says, watching your face as you stand shocked.

he was so sure that his feelings would be reciprocated, had pretty much convinced himself that you were destined to grow grey together but maybe he’d got it all wrong.

his cheeks burn as you just blink, time slows and he wishes that the floorboards would just collapse under him so he could disappear forever.

in lieu of a reply, you smash your faces together again, this time steve’s not quite expecting it, your noses bang against each others. but he doesn’t move, his smile growing against your lips.

there are a collection of muttered oohs from the crowd. it was rather a lot for a saturday morning.

“sorry,” you echo, biting down into your bottom lip, “not the wrong time at all,” your eyes shining through your spindly lashes.

steve bursts into laughter, drawing an even bigger crowd of eyes as he does so. his eyes dart around the vaguely stunned audience, “hey look, find me after.. i’ll be here,” gently pushing you off to go and do whatever the hell it is that artists do at these things.

you nod, all dazed and smiley, immediately falling into conversation about a painting.

he’s only dozing when the door creaks open, too encapsulated by sleep to bother to open his eyes. you’re dead to the world, snoring softly curled into his chest.

a quiet gasp rings out from the door and then just as expected, robin bounds over to your bed, poking his arm that was both underneath your shoulders and hanging off of the bed.

he peeks a look at his slightly deranged best friend, the lamp was just bright enough to showcase her enthusiastic grin, “you did it!” whispering far too loudly, “i knew you’d make the right choice,” buzzing around the room.

she damn near jumps in the air, clicking her heels together like some freak.

steve just closes his eyes again, falling back into sleep with a grin on his face and you between his arms.

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