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sometimesanalice · 10 months

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In a Place Just Right

Summary: It's your first year hosting Thanksgiving in San Diego for the Daggers and Bradley can tell you're a little nervous about it. But he already knows it's going to be one for the books, because any holiday spent with you better than anything he could have imagined.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5K

Warnings: fluff and allusions to smut (minors dni)

(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on it's own! Happy Thanksgiving, friends!)

For the last six years Penny has been the one to host Daggersgiving, but this year hostess duties had fallen on your plate. Needless to say, Bradley knew you were more than a little stressed about it.

When you had asked him about his opinion on the merits of canned cranberry sauce versus homemade he’d blinked at you a few times before asking, “Is this a thing people care about?”

He’ll never forget how adorably aghast you looked to learn that he had no preference on the matter. And maybe if you had asked him when the sun was up instead of at 3 AM he might have known better than to give you such a noncommittal answer.

“Both, we’ll have both,” you’d stated resolutely.

“Whatever you want, kid," he’d murmured as he’d pulled you to his chest and wrapped an arm around your stomach. His smart and beautiful wife. "Now go back to sleep, you’re supposed to be dreaming of sugarplums not cranberries."

“Wrong holiday, Bradley,” you’d sighed contentedly, relaxing against him. And it hadn’t taken you long to fall back asleep with that cranberry crisis having been averted.

But now people were due to show up in less than an hour and you are frantically fluttering and huffing around the kitchen like a madwoman in a very pretty green dress, "I knew that quickie was a bad idea. You're never quick, Bradley."

He’d been away and missed many holidays over the years due to his career.

Your mom had always made it clear that he had an open invitation to join in whatever merry festivities were happening with your family, but more often than not it rarely aligned with him being stationed all over the world. But he’d always been happy to get to have a phone call with you and eat the homemade cookies you’d sent him on those years spent apart.

But now Bradley got to look forward to spending every holiday with you in the home you shared with him.

Over the last week the house had slowly but surely transformed into something that was straight out of a magazine.

There was a display of pumpkins, ribbons, and a garland of strung dried orange slices that decorated the fireplace. And overpriced candles from your favorite store flickered cheerfully on every surface that wasn’t a fire hazard to a bunch of enthusiastic Naval aviators. The dining table was dressed up to the nines and everyone spot with their names painstakingly written in your pretty script on a place card sitting in a pinecone.

You had even made some oversized confetti in the shape of oak leaves out of some old books, the copy of ‘Why Men Love Bitches’ that Nat had given him years ago as a joke was finally repurposed and recycled into something more festive over where the beverages had been set up.

The whole house smells amazing. Warm cinnamons and nutmegs mixing with bright citrus and rich vanillas. The kitchen island and countertops were filled with various plates and platters and bowls of dips, charcuterie, fruit and vegetables, nuts, and other savories. All the other dishes were being kept warm in the ovens for when everyone arrived and was ready to settle around the dining table for dinner.

Bradley was positive that no one would leave feeling hungry. He also wasn’t entirely sure where the things his friends are bringing were going to go, but there were worse problems to have.

Penny had taken Amelia with her to visit her family on the East Coast. They’d decided it would probably be better for Mav to hang back in San Diego for the holiday, those tensions with her dad were still a bit strained even though they’d been married for almost four years now.

Which is how the Bradshaw’s were hosting their first Thanksgiving for everyone.

This morning had been organized chaos. Some of the last minute-things had only managed to be checked off with the assistance of strong coffee and a good playlist.

However, he’d still managed to sneak in the opportunity to spin you around the kitchen to your wedding song when it came up on shuffle. After all the cranberries were still popping and boiling down; there was time for it, he'd always make time for it.

But that was then.

Now, you are glaring at him like you’d been personally victimized by him and his cock.

“You complaining, sweet girl?” he asks with a smirk, leaning his hip against the kitchen island watching as you briskly stir the gravy heating up in the copper sauce pot on the stove. “Don’t think that’s what I was hearing thirty minutes ago when we had that pretty green dress of yours bunched around your hips. Sounded something like ‘more, Bradley, more’ to me.”

You shoot him a look that would make a weaker man wither, but he’s built up an immunity to it over a lifetime of having it directed at him.

“I think that’s quite enough out of you,” you reprimand, but he sees the amusement in your eyes even as you fight to keep the annoyed façade on your face. “We’re behind schedule now. I thought I buffered in enough time, just in case-”

“Just in case you begged me to give you an orgasm to, and I quote, ‘help me chill out’?”

“I was kidding,” you say, stopping your agitated whisking to go fluff the stuffing instead.

“All I’m saying is that if my beautiful wife is begging for me, I’m certainly not going to say no. I’m only human,” he says with an all too pleased shrug.

Bradley grabs the can opener and works on opening the canned cranberry sauce. He reaches for a couple plates, holding them up for your approval and you point to the one on the right, the scalloped white one with gold rim.

“For the record, I certainly did not beg,” you say primly, glowering into the homemade stuffing that you’d had him get the bread from the nice bakery across town for.

“Sure, sure,” he drawls, the smirk growing wider on his face as he sets to freeing the jelly from its rippled container.

He knows he shouldn’t tease you right now, but you’re so cute when you get huffy that he can’t help himself. He’s known that petulant raise of your chin his whole life. And sometimes when he looks at you he can so clearly see the little girl he’d been forced to entertain for hours when your moms were hanging out.

You went from being his favorite nuisance to his best friend to his everything.

“Do I still look ok? Or do I need to do a quick refresh before everyone gets here?” you ask. You turn to fully face him, tilting your head one way and then another for his inspection.

He would happily stare at you all day if you’d let him. He loves your pretty eyes and what you’ve done with your hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he grins, “And if anyone asks, we can just say you’re flushed from all the cooking.”

“Bradley,” you whine setting down your wooden spoon down on the counter with a sharp thwack.

“Ok, ok. I’m done, I promise,” he says putting his hands up in surrender with a chuckle.

He pushes off the counter and grabs a glass off of one of the floating shelves and fills it with some ice water.

“Good,” you tut haughtily, as you fiddle with the white and orange striped kitchen towel hanging on the oven door, “I was about to threaten to make you sleep on the couch tonight.”

“You wouldn’t.” Even the thought of it makes his stomach feel unsettled.

After nearly two decades of hard beds on foreign bases and on lumpy carrier mattresses, he’s never slept as well as he did since the two of you found your way to each other.

His peace was found under a fluffy green duvet on a wooden canopy bed with you tucked under his arm.

“No. No, I wouldn’t,” you agree, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his cheek in thanks when he presses the cold glass into your hands.

Bradley tugs you away from the warm stove and you reluctantly follow and sit on the barstool he’s pulled out for you on the other side of the kitchen island.

He runs his hand up and down your back comfortingly as you take a few sips, “We’re in a great place, sweet girl.”

“Mhm, yeah. Sure, of course.” You couldn’t sound less unsure if you tried. “It’s just… I’m nervous about the mushroom and leeks bread pudding. I’ve never made it before. And what if we run out of wine?”

“What’s been our motto?” he asks, taking over the helm at the stove whisking the gravy together as it begins to thicken.

“‘In Ina we trust’,” you say with a serious nod of your head.

“Atta girl, we sure do. And Nat said she’s is bringing a few bottles she picked up from when she went to Napa, the good shit. It’s going to be great. Trust me,” he says giving you a warm smile. “Will it make you feel better to go over everything again?”

“Yes, please,” you say, anxiously drumming your fingers along the side of your water glass.

He’d stepped up where he could like making sure the house was pristine and cleaning up the yard by blowing off the wrinkled remainders of the yellow Tipuana flowers. He’d even been able to source and rent some more chairs to make sure that everyone would have a seat at the table.

Bradley wasn’t a schlump in the kitchen. He knew his way around a cookbook and a stove. His knife skills were pretty damn good too, if he did say so himself. But he also knew when somethings were out of his wheelhouse. So he’d taken to being your sous chef, and had taken to washing and prepping the ingredients for you so that all you had to do was toss them in whatever shiny pot they were destined for.

He even made his mom’s favorite pie. It had been years since he's had it, and he was excited to share it with everyone.

Your mom had mailed the copy of the original recipe she had that was written in Carole’s rounded, flourished script. You had made a photocopy of it to use so that the original didn’t get ruined, and then pointed out a spot on the wall where you said you’d thought it would look nice in a frame hanging in the kitchen. And he'd fallen a little more in love with you.

“Ok, hit me with it,” he says turning the heat to low for the gravy and putting the lid on.

This was a partnership through and through, he was going to give you all the support you needed.

“The turkey?”

Bradley picks up the fancy digital meat thermometer he’d bought for the occasion to check, “Big Bird has an hour and twenty more minutes to work on his tan and then he’ll rest for another thirty. Giving people time to graze and mingle and get some drinks in them, just like you wanted.”

You nod and hum contemplatively, “I’ve been thinking we need a salad. I don’t feel like we have enough vegetable options.”

He knows better than to point out that you’re currently snacking on snap peas from not one, but three, of the veggie platters the two of you had put together the night before.

“We’ve got the crispy brussels sprouts, the garlic and hazelnut green beans, and the honey glazed carrots with lemon. We’re more than fine on the fiber and beta-carotene. Michelle Obama would be proud, kid.”

That gets a little laugh from you.

“Well, as long as you think Michelle would be happy than we’re probably fine,” you say with a smile around your water glass that tells him you know exactly what he’s doing invoking your favorite First Lady.

“What else are you thinking about?” Bradley asks peering in the lower of their double ovens, where foiled covered dishes are lined up in perfect symmetry are warming away having been prepared in advance.

“Do you think two bags of rolls will be enough? Or should I text Mav and ask him to grab one more?”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes dip down to his ass in his gray slacks. So he might linger as second longer than necessary to let you enjoy the view, since it’s for the female gaze and all.

He’s never understood wearing the most restrictive clothing on the holiday that involves the most eating, but that was Penny’s tradition to have everyone dressed in their nicest and you had insisted on keeping it going even if she was on the other side of the country.

You’d teased him earlier when you’d seen him emerge from the bedroom wearing the short-sleeved green cashmere polo you’d gotten him a couple years ago. It fit a little more snug that he remembered it, but he thought he still pulled it off well.

“When did we become the couple that matches?” you’d asked gesturing to your dress as you gave him an appreciative onceover.

If the past was anything to go off of, you would be running your hands over the soft material covering his chest and back all night.

“I just like reminding people who I belong with, sweet girl.”

He might have had something else in mind to wear for the evening before he saw you in that dress, had ironed the shirt the night before and everything, but last-minute pivot it was well worth it when you looked at him like that.

When he stands back up, he gives you knowing wink.

And in return you throw a baby carrot at him with a laugh.

Bradley isn’t surprised in the least to hear the quick clack-clack-clack of nails on the wood floors as their fluffy black and white Portuguese Water Dog rounds the corner. Having been summoned by the sound of food hitting the floor from where he had been dozing near the fireplace in the living room.

The carrot is gone in an instant and he comes to sit at Bradley's feet by the stove, looking up at him from under his curly eyebrows clearly hoping he'll get another snack.

“Nah, bud. You’re barking up the wrong tree over here,” he says leaning down to scratch his floppy ears.

“Ah, come here, Duck,” you croon, calling him over to your side of the island. “He’s so mean for a man who claimed he just saw God not too long ago, isn’t he?”

Bradley snorts and shakes his head at you amused.

He still doesn’t know how he ended up with a dog named Duck.

At the dog park, more often than not people mistook it for ‘Buck’. And you were usually off to the side more than happy to let him take the lead, biting your lip to keep from laughing at his less than enthusiastic expression when he’d have to warily explain yet again It’s Duck like quack.

You’re not even subtle about the piece of cheese you pull from the charcuterie board to feed him.

“I saw that,” he says, giving you a pointed lift of his eyebrow, “You know Bob is going to be spoiling him all night.”

“It was just a little piece of cheese. Plus, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. I saw you go over there and deliver him his own little veggie platter with some of the leftovers we had while I was making the apple cider sangria.”

“That’s different, that’s good for him,” he says rounding the island, reaching over and snagging his own slice of cheese to snack on.

“And cheese is a protein. He’s just a baby, Bradley, what am I supposed to do? Not give him a piece of swiss?” You slide off your chair to squat down and rub Duck’s belly, you’ve always been his favorite.

“He’s almost five,” he replies flatly.

“A youth!” you exclaim, “He’s a growing boy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley says affectionately with a little roll of his eyes. He knows a losing battle when he sees one.

He offers you his hand to help you stand back up, but you wave him off and pull yourself up using the edge of the island. You take a moment to readjust your dress before making your way to the sink by the big windows that look out into the backyard.

“Speaking of Bob, do you know if he’s bringing his fiancée?” you ask from over your shoulder as you wash your hands.

“Not this time, sweetheart. I guess she volunteered to cover a shift in the NICU when she heard they were short staffed.”

“Oh that’s too bad, I was excited to see her ring in person,” you say drying off your hands and heading to the pantry.

“It’s all he can talk about at work. I guess they’re thinking about a Spring wedding next year. They don’t want to wait too long to get married.”

“I’m so happy for them,” you say, digging around for a moment and then emerge with a stack of some sturdy plastic plates and set them on the last free spot on the countertop. “Don’t let me forget to make them up a couple plates that he can bring home for her, before Fanboy declares it time for ‘second dinner’ and eats all the yams like he did last year.”

“I won’t forget, promise,” he says fondly.

If you were facing him, he knows you’d probably tease him for the look on his face and just how gone he is for you.

You’ve always been so generous, it’s one of the things that he loves most about you.

You were always good about hustling him out of his well-earned money from is part time job scooping ice cream in high school, like with the fundraiser you did for the local soup kitchen and the one for the elementary school summer arts program.

He’s always been wrapped around your finger, it just took him awhile to realize why.

It’s the same reason why there’s been a donation that comes out of his bank account every month for the last five years for one of the San Diego animal shelters.

Bradley had made a rather sizable donation and then set up a smaller reoccurring monthly one after the chaos that was the time Bob had set you up with his friend who worked at the shelter, back before the two of you had gotten together.

Even after all these years, he still can’t help but get a little irritated every time he sees that guy’s face in the monthly newsletter that comes to his email. He’s pretty sure Casey still might have a little crush on you, but Bradley can’t blame him. He’d have a hard time getting over you too, so it’s a good thing he’ll never have to.

On newsletter day, Bradley always finds himself giving Duck extra treats.

You are his wife. And Duck is his dog. Ridiculous name and all.

He couldn’t wait to surprise you with the golden tennis ball that the shelter sends out as a thank you after a decade of donations.

Only five more years to go.

You’re over by the bar that’s been set up off to the side, straightening the already very straight rows of gleaming wine glasses when he hears you suck in a sharp gasp.

Bradley drops the dish cloth he had in his hands as he attempted to give what little counter space there was left a final wipe down and is in front of you in half a heartbeat. Was there a fluke with some faulty stemware? Are you bleeding? There’s a reason Thanksgiving is one of the busiest days at the hospital.

“The butter!” you cry out as you whirl around, your pretty eyes welling up with tears, “I let you fuck me and I forgot to pull the butter from the fridge. It’s going to be too hard for people to spread now!”

He knows it’s more than just hosting jitters that’s got you like this, but it still catches him by surprise sometimes.

“Woah, woah,” he says as he catches you on the way to the fridge and pulls you to his chest, “C’mere, my sweet girl.”

You make a distressed noise but allow him to keep his hold on you, “But the butter…”

“I already pulled the butter, see?” He points to the sticks that are already softening away on the counter. “This place looks and smells amazing. We did good, baby. Will you take a couple slow breaths for me, please?”

Bradley takes in a couple measured breathes with you, and feels the moment your body relaxes into his.

He presses a kiss to the side of your temple as he smooths his hands down your soft, pretty green velvet dress and the warm, firm curve of your rounded stomach soothingly.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s the hormones,” you sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

He hums empathically as he sways gently side to side with you in his arms.

“I would like to go on the record saying that I like pregnancy hormones, especially the ones from earlier,” he jokes lightly.

“That makes one of us,” you say with a watery laugh, “Just wait until I am waking you up at 4 AM because I am craving something from a drive-thru that’s not open.”

“Mm, can’t wait,” he murmurs before dropping a few kisses along the soft line of your jaw.

Bradley still can’t believe he gets to be this lucky in life.

He doesn’t want to forget a single moment of this. With you, with his family.

“We did a really good job with this one,” he whispers into your ear, still stroking your stomach and enjoying this moment of calm with you.

“We really did, da--” Bradley groans and cuts you off with a kiss. He can feel the impish smile plastered on your lips as he kisses you. His favorite menace.

He knows you’re pretty sure it was the spontaneous hook up in the storage closet at the Hard Deck on the Fourth of July that’s responsible for the noticeable bump you’re sporting. Call him a romantic, but he likes to think it was that night in the Bronco overlooking the ocean when he’d taken the long way back home.

You pull away all too soon for his liking to grab his left hand. He sees the flash of the two diamonds on your engagement ring, one from his mom and one from yours, as you take it and press it to a spot near your bellybutton.

The feeling of the fluttering under his palm will never get old. He’s not too proud to say he’d shed a tear or two the first time he’d felt it.

You hum in contentment, your finger lightly tracing over the shiny gold band of his wedding ring.

Bradley lets himself bask in this moment as the two of you stand there in the kitchen of your dream house.

There are a few pops from the wood in the fireplace, the refrigerator is humming away in the background, and he can just hear the sounds of a melodic piano from the playlist he queued up earlier playing over the speaker.

Of all the delicious scents that waft through the house, the smell the floral and musk notes in you perfume is still his favorite.

There are times in the soft quiet of night, usually when you are asleep and his mind won’t quite settle, that he sometimes thinks he was put on this Earth to hold you.

It’s the only reason he can think of that explains why you fit so perfectly against his body.

Why his palms can fit so perfectly over your rounded stomach.

Why it’s his hands that you have trusted to protect your heart.

And he’s still holding you in the warmth of the kitchen when he hears the front door open.

Bradley knows he’s going to have to play host soon and he just wants to keep you in his arms for just a little longer.

“Hey kids, I brought the turkey,” Mav calls out from the entry.

You spin in his arms, looking at him wide eyed and confused as you two exchange a look. He presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.

“Thought you were going to bring the rolls, Mav,” Bradley calls out just in time to see him round the corner.

Pete stands there proudly grinning holding a few bags of bakery rolls in one hand and a turkey in the other.

The sound of your delighted laughter makes his heart swell in his chest as he takes in the sight.

“Cooper Mitchell Ford Bradshaw, you are without a doubt the cutest turkey I have ever seen,” you gush as you go to greet Mav with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Your son’s chubby arms reaching out for you.

Mav has dressed your almost two-year-old son in a soft, plush turkey costume that is complete with tailfeathers and a beak. He’s clearly a fan of the outfit too because he is grinning widely, showing of the more of the baby teeth that have come in over the last few months.

Mav had swung by early this morning to take him off your hands to get ready for Daggersgiving without chasing an almost-toddler around. While it was nice to have some time just the two of you while you got the place in order and took care of the last-minute things, like that homemade cranberry sauce, but he’d missed not having his son around.

The sweet sound of Cooper’s giggles and your coos fill up the kitchen as he watches you pepper his face with kisses. You bounce him a little and do a little spin, making the little boy laugh even more. The two of you in your own little bubble.

“You doin’ ok over there, kid?” Mav asks. A soft, knowing grin on his face as he sets the rolls on the counter to pull him in for a hug.

The two men had made their way back to each other over the last few years, just another thing that Bradley was grateful for in his life. The man had always been his father in everything but name. That is until he’d seen the man who helped raised him hold his son for the first time.

“Yeah, Dad,” Bradley says, clearing his throat a bit, “Everything’s perfect.”

From there it’s a flurry of activity as people start to arrive.

Nat comes with her longtime girlfriend and the extra bottles of the fancy Napa wine she promised to bring. Only handing it over once he promised to give her the name of the contractor the two of you had worked with and the exact shade of green that was used on the lower cabinets during your kitchen renovation.

Payback and Fanboy and their wives show up wearing oversized turkey hats on their heads each carrying a bakery box of pie.

Bradley isn’t surprised when Duck ditches the attention that Coyote was giving him the second Bob shows up with the famous Floyd family scalloped potatoes. Bob has always been a sucker for a pair of puppy dog eyes.

And in between checking on people’s glasses, swapping out empty appetizer trays for fuller ones, and making sure Jake doesn’t tamper with his perfectly cooked turkey, he’s got his eyes trained on you.

There are no words for the pride and love that washes over him every time he looks over and sees you with his son propped up on your hip and the way your pretty dress stretches around your growing family.

He had missed this stage of your pregnancy when he was deployed and you were pregnant with Cooper. He was determined to savor every second of this one. Every butter related freak out and every late-night milkshake run.

Being in his house surrounded with all the people he loves, minus a couple who are here in spirit, isn’t something he could ever take for granted. It’s more blessings than he ever hoped to receive in this lifetime.

You look over your shoulder at him and everything about the way you’re looking at him is picture perfect.

Your smile sunshine gold and just for him as you hold his gaze for a moment as time ticks on around the two of you. You send him a little wink before turning back to Mav who has his phone held up for a FaceTime call with Penny and Amelia.

Bradley sees his son peek his head up from where it had been nestled into your neck. Cooper grins when he sees him, his tiny hand reaching out for his dad. For him.

As he makes his way over to the two of you with his heart full, he makes a mental note to ask Mav later where he got that costume. He’s already planning on running out tomorrow to see if they have any more in stock now that it seems they have a new Bradshaw tradition on their hands.

He’s going to have three little turkeys running around this time next year and he couldn’t wait.

Twins.

Bradley sometimes still couldn’t believe it. When the tech has announced that you were cooking not one, but two future Bradshaw’s, his heart had nearly burst from his chest from the shock and joy. A gift from his late father’s side of the family.

Cooper and him were going to be outnumbered soon.

The two of you had found out earlier in the month that Everly Wren Bradshaw and Millie Lark Bradshaw were going to be the newest members to join your little family.

His girls.

It was an announcement the two of you were excited to share later tonight with everyone else when the slices of pies were being passed around.

He scoops up Cooper from you with one arm, dropping a kiss onto his little boy’s perfect curls as his small fist clutches as the soft fabric of his shirt. And then Bradley kisses the crown of your head as he wraps his other arm around you, his thumb stroking the swell of your belly.

With you- because of you- he gets to have it all.

The wife. The family. The house. The dog. The life. The dream.

He’s right where he wants to be.

He’s right where he’s supposed to be.

Happy Thanksgiving! This was such a joy to write, thank you for reading!

It might not be Carole Bradshaw's famous pie, but it's one of my favorites! And who better to share it with than you! Cranberry-Lime Pie

If you haven't read the 'Like I Can' series you can read it here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster x female reader #rooster imagine #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster x you

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corroded-hellfire · 2 years

Note

Congratulations on reaching 2k followers :) Could I possibly request maybe one of Eddie’s fantasies of babysitter reader pre As You Wish?

I would just like to say that AYW is now officially my favorite verse to write smut in, so thank you for this request lol.

In the same universe as As You Wish

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral m and f receiving, male masturbation, breeding kink

Words: 4.6k

The highlight of Eddie’s day was coming home from work. Hands down, it was the part of the day that consistently brought him the most joy. He enjoys his job, likes his coworkers, and takes pride in his work, but coming home to his kids beats all. There was another reason Eddie loved walking into the house after work, but he’d never admit it to anyone. He’s still barely able to admit it to himself without his stomach twisting with guilt, but when he walks in the front door and sees you there, he feels like a teenager coming face to face with their crush. The smile you always give him when he comes home makes his knees feel weak and he swears he forgets his own name. Truthfully, he didn’t even feel this way as an actual teenager when he started dating Brittany.

Eddie pulls onto his street, eyes hungrily searching for your used gold Hyundai Elantra in his driveway. But it’s not there. Instead, Brittany’s red Toyota Camry sits in its place. Eddie lets out an audible groan as he pulls up next to it in the driveway. Why couldn’t this be a day she got out of work early but decided to go to one of her boyfriends’ places? It sounds twisted, even to him, that he’d prefer his wife went to see one of the many guys that she’s having an affair with rather than be home, but this had been going on for so long that Eddie couldn’t find it in himself to care anymore. He couldn’t even pinpoint when he stopped loving her, but she certainly made it easy to stop.

Taking a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for seeing the witch, he gets out of the car and heads to the front door. It’s chaos when he steps inside. Luke and Brittany can be heard down the hallway, screaming at one another, and Ryan is sitting on the floor of the living room with the television volume turned up an ungodly amount – probably to drown out the fighting.

“Daddy!” Ryan calls, getting up off the floor and throwing himself at his father. Eddie is covered in grease and oil – more so than usual – but he can tell Ryan needs comfort and that’s worth having to scrub extra hard at the little boy’s clothes to get the stains out. He scoops his son up in his arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Hey, buddy. What’s going on?” he asks.

“Mom’s mad cause Luke backtalked,” Ryan says.

Eddie sighs and nods his head. “Okay. You finish your homework?”

The question makes Ryan smile. He proudly tells his dad that he did – with your assistance. The mere mention of your name has Eddie smiling as well as desperately wishing he’d gotten to see you before you left.

“Turn the tv down, okay, bud?” Eddie asks as he sets his oldest son down. Ryan agrees with a nod of his head, going to do as his father asked. Eddie lets out another sigh as he makes his way down the hallway, where he can now tell the shouting is coming from Luke’s room.

“You will not talk to your mother that way!”

“You yelled at me first!”

“That doesn’t give you the right to scream at me!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Eddie says as he walks into the room. “What’s going on?”

Luke immediately runs over and hugs Eddie’s leg, hiding his head behind his father’s body. Eddie pats his son’s head and raises his eyebrows at Brittany.

“Your son,” she starts off, already boiling Eddie’s blood, “thinks it’s okay to back-talk me.”

“I just said I didn’t want veggietables with dinner!” Luke shouts, not meaning to yell, just trying to be heard over his mother.

Brittany throws her hands in the air as if this was some grave sin that the little boy committed. It’s another moment where Eddie’s torn. Parents are supposed to have a united front against their kids, but what is he supposed to do when his wife is batshit crazy?

“Luke, we’re going to have vegetables with dinner,” Eddie tells him, running his fingers through the boy’s curls. “Go play with Ryan in the living room, okay?”

The five-year-old doesn’t hesitate, taking the chance to escape the room and get away from his mom. Eddie rests his hands on his hips, widening his eyes as he looks at Brittany.

“What the hell, Britt?”

She rolls her eyes and pushes past Eddie out of the room. Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose before following her out and into their shared bedroom.

“You always take their side,” Brittany huffs out.

“Am I supposed to yell at a five-year-old little boy because he doesn’t want to eat vegetables for dinner?”

“You should take my side!” she yells.

“But you’re wrong.”

She lets out a groan and rifles through her nightstand before pulling out a tampon, shoving it in Eddie’s face instead of a finger like she usually would, as she continues her tirade. “I don’t need to take this from all of you! Men.”

Well, the tampon explained why she wasn’t visiting one of her boyfriends right now. Eddie knew better than to blame any of her sour mood on her period though; she’s always like this.

“Didn’t you send the other woman who was here home?” Eddie asks sarcastically as he gathers some fresh clothes to change into.

“Ugh, her,” Brittany huffs, and this seems to piss Eddie off most of all. “If the kids didn’t like her so much – and I still don’t understand why they do – she’d be long gone.”

“Why?” Eddie asks, too dumbfounded to add anything beyond that.

“She’s too…” Brittany trails off.

Kind? Smart? Beautiful? Funny? Good with the boys? Not demonic like you? Eddie’s mind finishes for her.

“Annoying,” Brittany finishes. Eddie rolls his eyes as he swipes up a pair of boxers. He bites his tongue, a million acidic things wanting to spill from his mouth.

“Whatever,” Eddie settles on. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Guess I’m making dinner?” Brittany asks.

“You were home first!” He takes a deep breath to calm himself. There’s no point trying to argue or reason with her. He’ll never win. “You can make dinner, order a pizza, or I can make dinner when I’m out of the shower.”

He doesn’t give his wife a chance to answer, walking out of the bedroom and locking himself in the bathroom. Eddie tosses his clothes on the counter and runs his hands over his face, letting out a deep groan. Making sure the water is turned up all the way to scalding, Eddie strips himself of his clothes and steps into the shower. The hot water runs over his tense muscles, managing to relax him a bit as dirt and grease begin to lift away. He grabs the bar of soap, the lavender smell meeting his nose as he rubs it over his body.

Fuck Brittany, he thinks to himself. Not that I’ve done that in forever. Not that I want to, honestly. Who the fuck does she think she is? Calling you annoying? Eddie thinks you might be the least annoying person he knows, honestly. There hasn’t been a moment you’ve been around that Eddie wanted you to go. Or at least, not because he didn’t want you around. There have been times he wanted to shield you from Brittany though, and so for your own sake, he tries to get you to leave. If Brittany was smart, she’d be jealous, Eddie continues to think. Annoying? Fuck, you’re not annoying. You’re incredible. The sweetest person, the loveliest person. A really fucking sexy woman. The thought has Eddie’s dick twitching. He peeks his head out from behind the curtain to make sure he locked the door. Finishing washing his body up quickly, he puts the soap down and wraps his hand around his cock. Shit, his fingernails still had dirt underneath them. Eddie would make sure to clean that out before he’d put his hands on you. Wonderful, delicate, you. The oil under the nails of his rough hands makes Eddie think of you coming to see him at work. You’d been there a time or two before because you’d been having car trouble. But what if you were there for another reason?

Eddie’s the only one in the garage, under the hood of a rusted old car with the sleeves of his blue coveralls pushed up to his elbows, when he hears footsteps coming closer.

“We’re closed,” Eddie calls to whoever it is.

“Aww,” a sweet voice pouts. A voice he’d know anywhere. “And here I came all this way just to visit you.”

He comes out from underneath the hood and tosses his wrench on the pile of tools lying next to him before he turns around and sees you. You’re wearing the short denim skirt that always drives him wild, and one of his red and black flannel shirts over a white tank top, the flannel tied up just underneath your breasts.

“You came to see me?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

Turning your head to look around the garage, empty except for the unfinished cars in the bay, you nod and take a few steps closer to him. “Only one here, aren’t you? Can’t stop thinking about you, Eddie.”

Delicate, soft hands come up to grip his coveralls and you look up at Eddie through your thick eyelashes. Both of you are breathing faster than usual, your cleavage moving up and down with every breath.

“Well, what can I do for you, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, hands coming to rest on your hips. A smile quirks up on your lips, both at the question and at his hands on you.

“Fuck me?” you ask, making your voice sound as soft and innocent as possible.

“You sure, baby?” Eddie asks.

Biting your lip, you nod your head at him, removing your hands from his chest so you can untie the flannel and let it fall from your shoulders. “Please, Eddie? Want you so bad. So, so bad.”

“Who am I to deny a pretty girl what she wants?” Eddie asks before leaning down and attaching his lips to yours. Your arms instantly come up to encircle his neck and Eddie uses his grip on your hips to pull your body flush against his.

A shiver runs down Eddie’s spine as your small hands slide down his shoulders and to the zipper of his coveralls. You pull it down agonizingly slowly, Eddie’s tongue delving into your mouth as you work. He takes his hands off of your hips to shuck the coveralls from his frame and you pull back from the kiss to push the article of clothing down his hips and down his legs. When you stay down on your knees, looking up at him with your beautiful eyes, he feels like he might combust. Eddie uses his booted foot to kick the discarded flannel towards you so you can kneel on that instead of the hard garage floor.

“Such a gentleman,” you purr as your hands pop the button on his jeans. Eddie feels like time stands still as you drag his zipper down, feeling like you touching his dick can’t happen soon enough. His eyes are trained on your face as you pull down his boxers and his stomach clenches in pure want as he sees you lick over your lips as your eyes stay glued to his cock. “Fuck, Eddie. You’re even bigger than I thought you’d be.”

“Thought about me, princess?” He’s amazed at how normal his voice sounds as his hands scramble behind him to grab onto the car he had been working on.

“Mhmm,” you hum. You reach out and let your index finger trail down the vein on the underside of his cock. “Every time I touch myself. Wishing it was your fingers in me. Mine are too small.” The pouting look you give him, finally dragging your eyes away from his impressive length, has his breath hitching. “But I’ve seen your hands. I stare at them. Looking at the rings on your thick fingers, hoping you’d keep them on while you stretch me out.” You push up on your knees and let your spit drip down onto Eddie’s aching member before you wrap your hand around him.

A guttural moan comes from Eddie’s throat, bringing a satisfied smirk to your lips as you work your hand up and down his shaft. You gather the precum beading on the head, mixing that with your saliva as you jerk him. Eddie feels like he’s in Heaven. Like the hood of the car must’ve fallen and crushed him, because you’re making him feel better than he thought possible.

“Don’t know if I can fit all of you in my mouth,” you say, a frown on your pretty features. “But I’ll do my best.” With that, you lean in and lick over the pink aching head, eyes looking into Eddie’s as you do. You giggle when he groans through clenched teeth, the sound making his head fuzzy. Your lips close around the tip, and you start to bob your head, taking a little more of him in your mouth each time.

“Damn, baby you look pretty like this,” Eddie says. You moan around him, vibrations only adding to his pleasure, and you reach up for his hand. Eddie takes his left hand from the car and lets you put it in your hair, and when you squeeze your fingers around his, he takes the hint and grabs a handful of your hair in his fist. A whimper comes from your throat, causing Eddie to buck his hips forward.

“Shit, I’m sorry, baby,” Eddie says when you choke around him. You pull off of his cock and look up at him with tears leaking from your eyes, makeup starting to get smudged.

“Don’t be sorry. Want you to fuck my throat.” Immediately returning your mouth around his dick, Eddie tightens his hold on your hair and starts to thrust his hips. He watches himself disappear between your lips, enjoying the wet warmth of your mouth. When the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, Eddie throws his head back with a groan, hand tightening both on the car and in your soft hair.

“Fuck, sweetheart. God, as much as I love your mouth, I want your pussy.”

You let him fall from your mouth, pretty pink lips twisting into a pout.

“Didn’t even get to suck on your balls,” you say.

“Next time,” Eddie says as he huffs a laugh. He reaches down and helps you stand up, lips attacking your neck as he slides his hands under the hem of your tank top. The moans and whimpers you let out as Eddie secures his lips over your pulse point go straight to his cock, twitching between your two bodies. Fingernails scratch lightly over Eddie's abdomen as you slip your hands underneath his t-shirt, moving up to rub over his chest. He breaks away from your neck to toss his shirt off, followed by your tank top. The black lace bra you're wearing makes Eddie want to fall to his knees. Instead, he goes back to pressing kisses against your neck, trailing them up to the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“Can I touch you, baby?” Eddie whispers against your hair.

“Uh huh,” you whimper out. He wastes no time in cupping your breasts in his palms, squeezing over the thin material. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, teeth grazing against your earlobe. “You like when I touch you?”

“Yes, Eddie. Love it so much.” You reach behind you and unclasp your bra, letting the silky straps slide down your shoulders. Eddie immediately rids you of the garment and palms your bare breasts. His thumbs flick over your pebbled nipples, making you arch your body into his touch.

Reluctantly pulling his hands away from you, Eddie turns around and closes the hood of the car behind him. Turning back to you, Eddie wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up, setting your ass on the hood. His lips attach to your nipple, thumb coming up to play with the other one. Your hands go to his hair, tangling in his curls as his tongue laps at your breast.

The soft skin of your thighs under his hands feels like silk as he moves his hands from your knees up underneath your skirt. When his fingers come in contact with your bare pussy, Eddie moans around your nipple before pulling off the bud.

“No panties? You’re really fucking trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

The giggle you let out has him smiling adoringly at you before he captures your lips in another kiss, pushing your skirt up to bunch at your waist. Breathing heavily, you break apart and Eddie takes one of your legs, lifting it over his shoulder. You lean back on your elbows, the cool metal kissing your heated skin.

Eddie trails kisses up the inside of your thigh, your head dropping back just from the pleasure of that small act. Letting your other leg drop to the side, opening yourself up more to the sexy curly haired man, you lift your head back up to watch Eddie get closer to your core. His hot breath hits your bare sex and it sends a shiver up your spine.

“Eddie, please,” you whine.

“Please what, baby?” Eddie teases, pressing a kiss to the apex of your thigh.

“Please put your mouth on me.” The whimper that escapes your lips pushes Eddie over the edge; he needs to taste you. Already intoxicated by every part of you, Eddie leans in and licks a broad stripe from your hole up your clit.

“Fuck,” you pant out as Eddie does it again and again.

“Knew you’d taste good, baby,” Eddie says against your pussy. “But shit, you’re even sweeter than I thought.”

When you reach down to grip Eddie’s hair and give it a small tug, he moans against your clit, sending a vibration through your core that has you curling your toes. Tongue keeping a steady pace on your sensitive bundle of nerves, Eddie slips two fingers into your needy hole, making the pressure in your lower belly tighten. He curls those fingers upward, massaging against your inner wall and hits the spot that has you seeing stars.

“T-There,” you stutter out. “Shit, Eddie, right there.”

The way you say his name makes Eddie think more favorably about it than he has in his whole life. He’d be content to just hear you say his name over and over again.

Eddie thrusts his fingers so they hit the same spot repeatedly, tongue expertly working your cute little button.

“Close, baby,” you tell him, the pet name going straight to his cock. He feels your walls start to spasm around his fingers and the thought of you doing that around his dick almost has him coming right then and there. “Eddie, yes. Fuck! I-I’m gonna cum.”

It’s all the warning he gets before you’re soaking his fingers, your release drooling down his hand as well. Eddie pulls his mouth off your clit and presses soft kisses against your thigh as you come down from your high.

You lay back against the hood and windshield of the car, breasts heaving as you try and catch your breath. Eddie grins as he sees the fucked out expression on your face, staring up at the garage ceiling.

“How was that, gorgeous?” he asks, trailing his fingertips over your knees.

“Hardest I’ve ever cum,” you tell him with a dreamy sigh. You push yourself up and pull Eddie’s head down to yours, melding your mouths together. He licks into your mouth, and you wrap your legs around his waist, sliding down the car until your wet heat is pressing against his throbbing cock.

“Babe,” Eddie mumbles against your lips. “I don’t have a condom.”

“Don’t care,” you say as you wind your arms around his neck. “M’on the pill. Not that I’d mind having you knock me up, anyway.”

Eddie drops his head to your shoulder and lets out a whine. “Fuck, you can’t say shit like that and expect me not to want to keep you.”

“So, keep me,” you say with a shrug. When Eddie lifts his head to look at you, you’re biting your lip and looking at him with wide eyes.

“You want me to keep you forever?” Eddie asks in a quiet voice.

“Forever,” you affirm. “Keep me.” You press a kiss to his neck. “Fuck me.” Another kiss. “Knock me up.” Another kiss. “Marry me. Whatever you want, I’m yours.”

Eddie groans and presses his lips to yours and you reach down, lining him up with your entrance. He pushes into you, and you gasp against his mouth. Your ankles lock behind his back as Eddie slowly fills you up, inch by inch until he’s buried up to the hilt.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers in the air between you. “Feel so good. Pussy’s so fucking tight. Think you were made just for me, darling.”

All you’re capable of doing is whimpering in response. Eddie reaches deeper inside you than anyone else has before and you never want to feel less than this full again.

“M’so full, Eddie,” you whine.

“I know, baby,” he coos, his hips finding a steady rhythm. “I’ve got you.”

You drop your head down to his shoulder as he pounds harder into you, your fingers digging into his shoulders at the exquisite pleasure. The pressure is also building in your lower abdomen, tightening more and more. Eddie can tell as your nails dig into his skin, and he looks forward to seeing what kind of mark they leave there. It’ll only be fair for you both to have marks, since there’s already a nice purple bruise forming on the side of your neck.

Wanting to hit that sweet spot inside of you again, Eddie gently encourages you to lay back on the hood of the car so he can adjust the angle of his hips. You look so pretty like this, he thinks. Hair mussed up, mouth red and kissed bruised, lying in front of him – where his cock keeps burying inside of you – back arching and tits bouncing in time with his thrusts. You look perfect.

Eddie shifts his hips just slightly and on the next thrust your fingers are scrambling on the hood of the car, trying to find something, anything to hold on to. Smirking in satisfaction now that he’s found that magic spot, he reaches up and links your hand with his, giving you something to hold on to. His hips also begin to piston in and out of you at a relentless pace, repeatedly hitting your spot that has your eyes squeezed closed in pleasure.

“Fuck!” you cry out. “Eddie!”

He can feel himself getting closer, his release not far off as he tries to make you come a second time. By your body’s responses, he knows you’re close too.

“Eddie!” Every time you scream his name it’s like music to his ears. “Eddie, oh, Eddie!”

“Eddie!” Three loud bangs jerk Eddie out of his fantasy. “Dinner’s ready, Eddie! Are you done yet?”

Why Brittany has to yell when it’s only a two-inch-thick piece of wood between them, he’ll never understand. “Eddie!”

“Just a second!” he calls back. Brittany sighs and her footsteps disappear down the hall.

Eddie braces one arm against the shower wall, the other hand firmly grasping his painfully hard cock, and he squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to let the rest of the fantasy play out.

“Gonna come again,” you whine. Eddie uses the hand that isn’t holding yours to pull your body up until it’s pressed flush against his. You moan and whimper against his lips and Eddie knows he can die a happy man. Both of your hands go to his hair, and Eddie takes his newly freed hand down between your legs. He rubs tight fast circles over your clit, making your hips rock up to meet his thrusts.

As your orgasm starts to take over your body, you press your lips to Eddie’s, sharing a hot searing kiss full of tongues and hot breath. The waves of pleasure roll over you, the noises you're making the prettiest Eddie’s ever heard. Makes sense coming from the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. The sounds mixed with your sweet pussy clenching around his cock is his undoing. Eddie comes hard inside of you, painting your walls with his white release. His eyes squeeze shut as he rides out his high, chest heaving with heavy breaths, and sweat dotted along his forehead.

“Fuck,” you say. “You feel so good inside me. Never want you to pull out.”

Eddie opens his eyes but you’re not laying there in front of him. He’s not buried inside of you, he’s holding himself in his hand, his seed coating the shower wall and some of his own hand. Even though you’re not there though, the ecstasy he’s feeling from the orgasm and the warm fuzzy feeling floating around his abdomen are still because of you. Of how you make Eddie feel.

The hot shower water gets turned down a bit so he can rinse off the sweat that’s accumulated on his body and clean both the wall and hand free from his cum. He takes a deep breath and turns the water off.

Stepping out of the shower into the steamed-up bathroom, Eddie grabs the towel hanging on a hook and wraps it around his waist. He shakes his hair out like a wet dog, sending little splatters of water all around the small space. He dresses quickly, mostly so Brittany doesn’t come back around to yell again, and runs the towel over his hair.

Stepping out of the bathroom door, the rest of the house feels considerably cooler than the sauna of a bathroom. Eddie tosses the towel into the hamper in his bedroom and heads down the hall towards the kitchen.

Luke slides out of his room on his socks, knocking into Eddie’s leg. The little boy just giggles, looking up at his dad and taking his freshly cleaned hand into his own little one. Eddie can feel his son staring at him and he looks down to see big blue eyes staring back up at him.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“You took a shower?” Luke asks.

“Yeah, why?”

“That all you did since you came home?”

“Yeah, why?” Eddie repeats.

Luke shrugs. “You look happy.” He drops his dad’s hand and walks into the kitchen.

Eddie stands there in the hallway, sliding his hands into his pockets. He does feel the smile on his face now that Luke mentioned it. It keeps him from wanting to go into the kitchen because he’s sure Brittany will wipe it off his face in no time. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Picturing your pretty face makes his heart lurch in his chest and he knows he’s in trouble. But he can keep this a secret. He’s not going to tell anyone about these feelings. It’s just something he can keep inside of him and think about when he needs a smile. Or to get off.

#eddie munson #older!eddie #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #babysitter!reader #request #AYW #AYWS

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billthedrake · 8 months

Text

THE AD AND SON (PART TWO)

It was the third day at the cabin and uncharacteristically, Brian woke up before his dad.

He slipped out of bed and found some sweats to put on. He'd hoped to spend the week in the cabin without putting on clothes, but the air was nippy this morning.

As he stepped into the living room he could see why. Outside the plate glass window a foot and a half of snow blanketed the ground.

Brian took a minute to enjoy the serenity of the view then went to make coffee, mostly for his father, though he'd been drinking it more the last month, trying to make himself like it. Partly because he felt it was the grown-up thing to do, and partly because it was something his father enjoyed.

Brian wasn't good at cooking, and his dad usually made anything more complicated in the Casey home. But Brian could do breakfast and he proceeded to cook some bacon and get the eggs ready.

His dad had an eager look on his face as he stepped in, wearing his university sweatshirt and some pajama pants. "Man, this is a treat," he said, taking the coffee mug from Brian's hands. "How long you been up?"

"About a half hour," Brian said. "Looks like we got a snow storm last night."

Dan padded over to the window and looked out. "Well, I'll be." He looked over at Brian. "Hope you're not hoping to go anywhere any time soon."

"We're trapped here?" Brian asked, a little concern in his voice.

"Trapped's a strong word. But it'll take a few days for the snow to melt enough to be passable. Still not wishing you'd gone to the Caribbean instead?" he laughed.

Brian plated breakfast for the two of them and came to sit at the counter next to his dad. "Eat up old man. We're going out and playing in the snow after breakfast."

"Is that right?" Dan smirked, stuffing a piece of bacon in his mouth.

"Yes, sir."

That's what they did. They geared up with thermal shirts and wool socks and hats and gloves and trudged out into the fluffy white snow.

"It's all fine powder. Shouldn't take long to melt once the sun comes out," Dan said.

Brian reached down and gathered up some of the snow. "Damn, won't make a snowball."

"And who the hell you think you're going to be throwing snowballs at?" Dan chided playfully.

"Christ, Dad, where's your sense of fun?"

Dan's eyebrow raised up. "I'll show you, you little fuck," he growled and charged toward Brian, knocking him back into the soft powder. His muscular body landed on him with an oof!

Brian got over his surprise and started giggling, like a kid almost, and Dan started, too.

"No fair," Brian laughed.

"Who said I was fair?" Dan said with a triumphant look on his face. Damn, his son could make him feel twenty years younger.

Just then Brian craned his face up and met his father in a kiss. Dan's body froze stiff, surprised by the action.

"Come on, Dad," Brian said softly. "No one out here but us. Let loose a little."

Dan nodded and now initiated their kiss. It was liberating as hell, making out with Brian out here in the open air. And Brian was on the same wavelength, he could tell responding to his kiss eagerly.

"You're one hell of a kid, you know that?" Dan said. Finally he stood up and offered his hand to help Brian up. "Come on," he urged.

Instead Brian ignored his father's outstretched hand and sat up, reaching out to the button on the man's jeans.

"Jesus, Brian!" Dan gasped.

"What part of letting loose do you not understand, Dad," Brian asked in a challenging tone.

He had to admit the kiss and now Brian's actions were making Dan erect as he could remember. The air felt cool on his cock once Brian freed it but it wasn't exposed for long. His son swallowed it and started blowing him, right there in the open.

When it came to blowjobs, Dan preferred to give rather than receive. Part of it was Brian's inexperience. But mostly it was just the way the father was wired. He never came quickly getting head and sometimes he didn't come that way at all. Meanwhile, the feel of a hard cock in his mouth and of cum gushing down his throat was the biggest turn on.

Only now, Brian's mouth was bringing him off. Maybe it was the naughtiness of the situation. Maybe his son's cocksucking skills had gotten better. But Dan Casey was gonna cum right into his boy's throat.

"Oh Bri, Oh fuck, I'm there, son." With that he gripped Brian's head and fired his semen in a sweet wave of release.

He barely regained his senses as he watched Brian spit out a health gob of his father's semen in to his hand and reach down to smear it on his own exposed hardon. Excitedly he stood up. "Think you can stay hard, Dad?" he asked. Brian was clearly eager to get off himself.

Dan nodded. No way was his cock going down now. He watched dumbly as Brian shucked his jeans down his thighs and turned around. Those amazing butt cheeks were displayed once more.

"Put it in me sir," Brian ordered.

His son's hole was still damp with lube from their fuck the night before and it took Dan only a few seconds to work his way inside.

"Oh yeah," Brian hissed. "I think your load is still in me."

It was. Dan could feel the semen deposit on his cock as he fucked Brian in this standing position. It was cold out but their connection felt hot. After a few strokes he felt his boy's ass constrict tightly against his rod. Brian was surprisingly nonverbal as he came, just grunting as his cum shot out into the snow.

They uncoupled carefully, and each man pulled up their briefs and jeans. Dan now met Brian in a kiss. "Thanks for getting me out of my shell. That was hot."

"It was." He gave his dad another quick kiss. "Ready to go back in sir?"

Dan could tell Brian was starting to feel cold. He nodded and wrapped his arm around his son's shoulder as they walked back to the cabin. "Maybe we can play in the snow more later," Dan said hopefully.

"Yeah," Brian replied.

Dan let Brian shower first, to clean off and warm up. His son looked much happier as he stepped out into the living room in his sweats. "Your turn."

The two spent the afternoon reading. Dan was reading one of the spy novels he liked reading when he had free time. Brian was studying for his accounting class.

The afternoon was going by and Brian closed his computer, stretching his body on the sofa. Dan set down his book. "Done studying?"

Brian nodded and reached down to cup his crotch. "Too horny for accounting," he grinned.

Dan slid over and removed Brian's hand so he could see the erection forming in the jock's sweatpants. "That's probably something I can help you with," the man grinned.

"No, that's definitely something you can help with," Brian countered and pulled down his elastic band, showing off the sizable boner.

"Fuck, that's beautiful, son," Dan sighed as he stroked it up and down.

Brian smirked. Something about his dad's excitement over his cock gave the 19-year old confidence. Made him cocky even.

"You know what's even more beautiful?" he asked.

"What's that?" Dan asked looking up to meet his son's gaze.

"Your mouth around it."

Dan growled at the suggestion and hunkered down between Brian's strong legs.

Brian hissed an exhale of air as his dad took the cock into his mouth. "Aw yeah, that's it sir. Go down on me, Dad. Further. Swallow your boy's cock."

Dan did, excitedly. He'd learned to suppress his gag reflex and now could deep throat Brian's decently large size without issue. And he could give long strokes with his mouth and throat, up and down, in almost a milking action.

Thankfully Brian had held off on his initial impulse to cum and was riding out the sensations. Their sex in the morning had taken the edge off and the men could both enjoy a nice, slow suck session now.

Dan took the time to build Brian up then hold him off, licking the nuts and kissing the insides of Brian's thighs while the young man looked eagerly on his father.

About twenty minutes into the blow job, Brian came, almost suddenly in fact, shooting hard and heavy into Dan's hoovering mouth.

The father was all smiles as he pulled back. "Whoa, stud... I think that was a record."

Brian nodded, smiling himself. "Yeah, I'd say so. Fuck, that was incredible, Dad."

Dan had a proud look on his face as he leaned back on his haunches. "I think we earned ourselves a beer before dinner. What do you say?"

The men watched some weather on the TV and some Sports Center while they had their beers and relaxed.

The sun was setting as Dan got up to start on dinner.

After they ate, Dan had an impish grin. "Feel like going out into the snow again?"

Brian smiled. "I think someone liked being a little kid again," he teased.

Dan shrugged. "Truth be told, I liked being with you out in the open. Kissing you like that." He blushed a little. "I'd like to blow you out there this time."

Brian chuckled. Sometimes he thought he was the one with the bigger sex drive but his father was a horndog, too.

Dan tried to read his expression. "Or do you need more time to recover?"

Brian shook his head no. "Oh, I'm good for it, Dad. Fuck, let's do this."

They were giddy as they put on their warm clothes, which had dried off since the morning.

They stepped out into the snow, which came up to their knees as they trudged on. They walked down toward the lake. There was some dim moonlight out to light the way.

"Think anyone else is staying near the lake?" Brian asked as they came to a spot with a good view.

"Doubt it," Dan said. "If so, they surely can't see us." With that he stepped up to Brian and kissed him softly. His son returned the embrace, holding onto his dad tightly.

"I like this," the younger man said. "A lot."

"Me, too," Dan said, kissing his boy with more passion now. Finally he leaned back. "I believe I promised my son a blow job."

Brian nodded excitedly and gulped as his father squatted down in the snow. It was a real trip getting serviced like this out in the open. They were probably out of sightline for anyone but the idea that they weren't thrilled Brian, who grew harder inside his dad's bobbing mouth. Maybe he had a bigger exhibition streak than he realized.

Dan was able to take his time on Brian's dick, knowing his son's hair trigger probably wasn't going to be an issue so soon after the last blowjob.

But finally Brian felt himself getting close and he pushed his dad's shoulders to ease him off. "I don't want to come yet, Dad," he said. "Let me do you for a bit."

They traded positions and Dan exhilarated once more in the sensation of his only son blowing him. Brian was definitely getting better at this he decided. His son treated him to a few minutes of head before backing off.

"Turn around, Dad," he ordered in a husky tone.

Dan felt nervous about what his son was asking but he was also turned on. It took a little maneuvering with the depth of snow, but he turned to face away from Brian. Then he felt his boy's strong hands on his hairy ass, kneading the muscle.

"My old man's got a hell of an ass on him," Brian growled, slipping his fingers deeper into the crack.

"Bri, buddy..." he started. "I should let you know..."

"What Dad?" he asked, kissing the left ass cheek then the right.

"I've... I've never been fucked."

He could feel Brian freeze behind him. "For real, Dad?"

"Fraid so, son. I'm not sure I'm ready..." he started to say, but Brian interrupted.

"It's OK Dad."

Dan relaxed then felt his son's face nestle in his crack. He wasn't going to, was he? Sure enough, Dan felt Brian's tongue snake forward and start licking Dan's hole.

Of all his 46 years, Dan Casey had never been rimmed. The idea had even been a little repulsive to him, either giving or receiving. But here was Brian opening him up to the experience. The first licks shocked him and made his body shake but then Dan decided it felt good. Better than good. Brian's asseating had him hard a rock and dripping too. And his boy's actions were getting more confident, his tongue swipes deeper.

"That's it, boy. Eat your daddy's hole," he growled, no longer concerned someone would hear. The night was otherwise still and quiet.

Brian ate him out excitedly. He'd seen this in porn videos and had been eager to try it out for real. Finally he had to take a breath.

"Goddamn, Dad. You got an amazing ass." His fingers explored his father's brawny butt before diving in to munch some more.

"Bri... son.... let's take this inside OK?"

Brian was all smiles as he stood up and tucked his hard cock back in his pants.

They kissed and Dan thought he'd be repulsed by the muskiness he could smell on his son's face, but the scent was a faint trace and not bad at all. It turned Dan on even, kissing the mouth that had just made out with his hole.

The two weren't in a hurry and Dan got off seeing the knowing smirk on Brian's face as they walked back to the cabin.

"You liked it," Brian said.

"I won't lie to you, son," Dan admitted. "I didn't think I was going to either."

"I'm going to eat your hole more tonight."

Dan loved take-charge Brian, he decided. "Is that right?" he teased.

"Yes, sir," the teen smiled, hands in his coat as he hopped in the heavy snow. "I can't believe I waited so long to do that."

"I can't believe my own son just gave me my first rim job," Dan growled.

Brian smiled. "No way! Hot."

They kicked off their boots inside and shed their coats. As they stripped they both had boners. "Feel like warming up in the shower?" Dan asked.

"Yeah," Brian said. "You can go first if you want."

"I got a better idea. We can go at the same time," Dan smiled.

It was an intimate experience showering for the first time together. They used the occasion to explore each other's bodies. And Brian hunched down to eat Dan out some more under the shower spray. The father braced his strong body against the tile and let his boy treat him to a range of amazing sensations.

Finally they turned off the water and toweled off.

They walked back into the bedroom and Brian pulled down the covers. "Get on all fours, Dad," he instructed.

Dan felt weird following orders like this but he did as asked. And was rewarded as Brian returned to rimming his hole.

This was so taboo and nasty, and Dan loved it. Brian seemed to get off on it even more, his young dick erect and reddened with excitement.

Finally Brian pulled back and spit on his father's pucker and pushed a finger inside.

"Oooh!" Dan hissed.

"Too much, sir?" Brian asked.

"I'm good kiddo."

Brian reached over for the lube and applied to his fingers. Now two were pushing in. His father was tight as hell all right but the man seemed to be taking it OK.

"I'd never do anything you didn't want me to, sir," Brian said. "But damn, I want inside you so bad."

It was time, Dan decided. He'd been hesitant to let another man inside him like this, but if there was anyone deserving, it was Brian.

"Go for it, kiddo," he said. "Only we're doing it face to face."

"Yes, sir," Brian answered, skewering his finger's into his dad's hole, which was starting to give a little though was still snug. "Another finger first?" he asked. His father didn't object so Brian gently pushed a third finger inside.

"Easy there, son," Dan hissed, but he lay his head forward and let Brian gently wiggle more inside. His hole felt full, very full now, but it wasn't hurting. And the more Brian twisted his fingers around the more he got used to it.

Pretty soon Bri was able to pushing his digits in and out, literally doing a finger fuck motion.

"OK, Dad," he said. "Flip over."

Dan was hard and excited but nervous. But his son's kiss felt good and he loved the sensation of his built young man on top of him. Thrusting that erect son cock against his own.

The boy hoisted his legs up and nudged forward. Somehow Brian had lubed his cock and it felt slick as it bore inside. A sharp sting travelled through Dan's body. "Oh!" he yelped.

Brian held steady. "Sorry, Dad," he said with concern.

"Give me a second," Dan pleaded.

Brian nodded, patient. "Remember what you said when you took my cherry? That it would hurt at first but it'd get better quickly?"

Dan felt emotional at those words. His own words tossed back at him. "If I'd known how you felt, son..." he joked.

"You would have still fucked me," Brian countered. "You were right Dad, it starts to feel great. If you let it."

Dan nodded and decided he'd do this for his boy. Brian pushed in and was soon buried inside. Dan felt full and more than a little uncomfortable. But the sting was gone. Then another thrust. And another.

Only Dan saw his son's expression change. "You gonna cum son?"

Brian tried to hold it off but he gave a little nod as he started to come inside his dad. "Oh fuck! Oh wow!" he sighed as he came off his orgasm and started resuming his thrusts.

It turned Dan on. The knowledge that he had his son's seed buried inside him. The idea that his stud of a son was going for seconds, just like that. The idea that Brian had so confidently taken his cherry.

It made the older man hard and his insides turn to pure pleasure. "Oh, fuck. Fuck me Brian!"

"Yeah Dad!" the boy exclaimed, thrilled his dad was getting into it.

"Fuck your daddy. Fuck my hole. That cock's so good. Harder, son!"

Brian really started fucking now. His dad was on the same wavelength, thrilled at the first experience bottoming. As Brian fucked, Dan stroked and his whole body grew hot and tingly.

"Gonna cum son."

"Come on my cock, Dad. Your own son fucking you, sir."

That did it. The taboo tripped Dan's wires and he was firing off all over his chest, just seconds before Brian began his second ejaculation deep in his guts.

After cumming the sensation felt uncomfortable once more and Dan urged Brian to pull out.

"You OK, sir?" his son asked, concerned.

"More than OK," Dan grinned. "Jesus, my boy can fuck."

Brian had a proud look on his face. "You inspire me, sir."

"Inspired two healthy loads from you," Dan teased, reaching down to touch his no-longer virgin hole. It was wet with lube and Brian's seed.

"I don't think I've ever been so turned on in my life," the young man observed. "Please tell me that wasn't the last time."

"That wasn't the last time," Dan muttered as he met Brian for a kiss. He lay back on the bed and caught his breath. "Fuck. 46 and learning new tricks."

Brian lay down beside him. "Wasn't sure how you'd feel about having the tables turned."

"Mentally I'm still processing it," Dan said. "But physically... well, that was intense. I don't think I've come harder in my life."

"That's all the processing you need, Dad. Don't overthink it."

Maybe that's what he'd been doing this whole time with Brian. Overthinking it. Or swinging from not thinking to overthinking, and back. A happy medium would be nice.

"I love you, son. Very much." There, it wasn't so hard.

"God, Dad, you know I'm crazy about you, right?"

They kissed and Dan cracked wise. "I dunno. I thought maybe you were just a horny kid."

"Oh I am. But, Dad.... you're overthinking it."

#drakestories

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heartpascal · 1 year

Note

Re: drabbles, my favorite stories are I’ll be brave, so far from it, and all my faith but I don’t have any scenarios off the top of my head 🤨 a drabble à la the crooked kind would be so fun to read!!

but honestly anything and everything you put out, I will read. I eat it up every time.

▹— pre-outbreak!joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: drabble from the crooked kind universe! • the time joel realised what your home life is like.

▹— a/n: my first ever drabble pls go easy on me D: (also if you have any situations you’d like written for this universe or others just send in a request!)

▹— warnings: abusive & neglectful family, almost father figure joel, sarah is your best friend, mention of argument with parents

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Perhaps, he thinks now, Joel should have been suspicious of what you and Sarah had been hiding the third time you were sleeping over during the week. After all, most parents had a no-school-nights rule, and you were always quite skittish around him when he asked you questions. You also never responded well to him asking to speak to your parents, insisting that he didn’t.

But in his defence, he didn’t have a no-school-nights rule, so he figured that maybe, your parents didn’t either. It wasn’t a terrible assumption to make, although he’d given up on speaking to your parents pretty easily.

You and Sarah always got up on time for school, and you didn’t cause much trouble. Besides stocking up on some of your preferred snacks, you hadn’t had much of an impact on the Miller household, you actually blended in so well that it was like you were always there.

It was on the now sixth time of you staying at the Miller residence during the week that Joel was really starting to get suspicious. Over the course of the past three weeks, you had spent days and nights at his and Sarah’s, without so much of a word from your parents. Joel knew that he wouldn’t be all too happy if his daughter was out of the house for so long, but what could he do? Hell, even Sarah got defensive over him trying to talk about your parents.

The seventh time, he couldn’t keep quiet.

“Hey, kids?” He called up the stairs, having seen your shoes stored away neatly by the door. It was usually around dinner that Sarah begged for you to be allowed to stay the night, and that time was fast approaching. Joel figured it was best to nip this in the bud.

“What is it, dad?” Sarah yelled back, and Joel rolled his eyes at the attitude she was already showing. He resisted the urge to do that annoying parent thing, where they just didn’t answer your reply after they yelled you first.

“Come on down here, the both of you!” He responded after a moment of hesitation, hearing the vague sound of the two of you sharing hushed whispers. Joel moved on into the living room when he heard the steps coming down the hallway, the two of you finally descending the stairs when he had taken a seat on the sofa.

Sarah looked nervous, though you looked far more so, with trembling hands that you wrapped tightly around the straps of your backpack, already worn on your back. “Dad?” Sarah asked, after he hadn’t spoken for more than a moment of the two girls standing in the room.

Joel sighed, nodding his head to the couch and waiting for you both to sit down before he spoke again. “Listen, I think we need to have a talk.” He began, frowning when Sarah immediately cut him off from saying anything else.

“Dad, are you being serious?” She asked, eyes wide and defensive, and her sudden alarm wasn’t improving your nerves, either, and you were looking more anxious by the second. The last thing you wanted was for Sarah to get into trouble for you. “You’re being unreasonable! She needs to stay over here—”

Joel decided to play at Sarah’s own game, holding a stern look on his face as he cut her off. “Sarah, that’s enough. I ain’t said a word, just yet, calm yourself down.” He told her, not liking the frown she held on her expression. Joel turned his gaze to you, softening his expression when you shrunk under his gaze. “Now you two listen to me, alright? I don’t mind you stayin’ here. Can stay as many nights as you please, but god, kiddo, are your parents really alright with that?”

Sarah moved as if she was going to jump in, save you from speaking, but Joel fixed her with the strict dad-look, and she sat back, looking towards you with an apologetic gaze.

“Yeah, they’re—they don’t mind it, one bit. But I can go back, I don’t mean to be overstayin’ my welcome.” You rambled on, giving Sarah an urgent look as she opened her mouth to oppose your words, causing her to move her glare over to her dad.

“And the reason you have to stay here?” Joel asked after a moment, almost hesitantly. But if there was something more going on, he had to know about it. He was the parent here, and it was his job to look after the people under his roof.

You practically withered under the combination of his look and his question, clutching your bag straps tightly, like you were ready to head off with a moment’s notice.

“It’s nothin’, Mr. Miller, we just like hangin’ over here. Your place is much nicer than mine, right Sarah?” You looked to her pleadingly, and Joel’s suspicion only grew when Sarah nodded painfully quickly, confirming your words.

He didn’t believe you, not for a second, but decided to let the two of you off the hook.

It was the eighth time that Joel knew.

He felt sick to his stomach for not picking up on it before, for not actively trying to find out what was wrong when he knew something wasn’t quite right. For a moment, he also became angry with his own daughter, for not telling him.

The incessant knocking on the door came late that night, and given it was close to 9PM and dark out, Joel wondered who the hell would be coming to his house. It couldn’t have been Tommy — he would never knock, so Joel truly had no idea.

When he opened the door, he certainly didn’t expect to be met with you, backpack slung over your shoulders, your eyes squinting through the rain that was coming down heavy.

“Hi, Mr. Miller.” You greeted, shakily, and he didn’t miss the tremor in your tone as he ushered you inside out of the cold rain. You tried not to look too nervous under his scrutiny, tried to remain brave and nonchalant as he closed the door after you. “I’m really sorry, but could I stay over here tonight?” You asked him then, and Joel could’ve sworn he heard his own heart break at your voice.

“Jesus Christ,” He said, eyes wide as he took you in, soaked to the bone, your eyes shining with something that wasn’t from the weather. “Of course you can, kiddo, c’mon, let’s get you dried off.”

Whilst you took your shoes off, aiming not to traipse wet footsteps all throughout their house, Joel shouted up to Sarah to bring some towels. She didn’t hesitate given the urgency in his tone.

“What happened?” Sarah asked desperately as Joel took the towels from her hands to wrap them around you as you shivered, turning to look at Sarah with a nervous smile.

Joel didn’t miss the way you nervously looked in his direction, and busied himself taking the school bag from your hand and placing it down in the hallway. “Just got into a fight with my parents, ‘s’all.” You said, clearly downplaying whatever had gone on in your household. Joel’s attention was caught, that was for certain, and now he regretted every letting you go back to your own house, especially when you so often looked reluctant to leave.

Sarah looked towards Joel, much like you had, before she turned back to you, where you held the towel around your shoulders tighter. “Was it about you stayin’ over?”

You shook your head. “No, didn’t make my bed this morning.” You told her, not seeing the way Joel’s face fell. He couldn’t imagine telling Sarah off for something so badly that she left home late evening, in the pouring rain, let alone over an unmade bed.

“Kiddo,” Joel sighed, placing a hand against your shoulder, a look of slight anguish on his expression. “The two of you should’ve told me what was really goin’ on. You could’ve stayed as long as you liked.”

You frowned, your eyes still teary as you looked at your best friend’s dad, “Didn’t wanna keep botherin’ you.”

“You’re not a bother,” He said firmly, “Now c’mon, let’s get you into some dry clothes. You eaten?” At the shake of your head, his frown deepened further, but he nodded. “Then we’ll get you some food, alright?”

He let Sarah take you upstairs, off to borrow some spare clothes, and he cooked whilst you changed, just hearing the faint sounds of your quiet conversation with Sarah. He felt bad, not being the greatest cook, but he figured even shitty pre-packaged macaroni cheese would be alright with you. In fact, he often found that when you and Sarah had sleepovers, his supply of mac n’ cheese depleted.

You sat on the couch when Joel brought you a bowl of macaroni cheese, something unsettled in your eyes, but you smiled faintly at him.

“Now, you listen to me, alright? Anythin’ happens, and I mean anything, you can come here. Don’t even need to ask.” He said to you firmly, pretending he didn’t see the wobble to your lip that you hid behind your bowl.

“Thanks, dad.” Sarah said softly, responding for you, because she knew you better than you knew yourself. She sat between you and her dad, leaning her head against your shoulder.

“‘Course. But hey, if you’re gonna be stayin’ more often, you drink coffee in the morning?” Joel asked, bringing some lightness back to the conversation, his chosen topic coaxing a snicker from you as Sarah groaned, sick of her dad’s coffee addiction.

“That stuff’s gonna give you a heart attack, you know.” She said matter-of-factly, raising her eyebrows at her dad.

“Milk and two sugars,” You responded, the tremble in your voice replaced with a tinge of amusement, and Joel laughed with you at the sigh of annoyance Sarah let out.

— taglist: @auggiesolovey, @just-kaylaa, @evyiione, @lemonlaides, @fariylixie0915, @erensloveinterest, @dazedshoon, @faceache111, @randomhoex, @canpillowscry, @sleepygraves, @pedropascalsrealgf, @star-wars-lover, @coolchick333, @soobsdior, @ilybbg, @rvjaa

please let me know if you want your tag added/removed !!!

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller x platonic!reader #platonic joel miller x reader #joel miller platonic #father figure joel miller #sarah miller tlou #joel miller drabble #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #heartpascal drabbles

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nicolesainz · 10 months

Text

Darling (JB 22)

Jenson Button x f!reader (Mark Webbers Daughter)

A/N: Ya’ll can blame the Brawn Doc (which btw was great, go check it out)

Summary: A little visit to your dad’s old friend after the Goodwill festival wouldn’t hurt,right?

Warnings: minors dni, +18, suggestive smut, edging, fingering, p! in v!, age gap (reader is 22)

“Hey Jense, would you mind keeping an eye on her? Missus and I will fly back to Australia but she’s staying here for a friend’s party”

My father would’ve never let me stay in a hotel. It had to be Jenson. Out of all his friends, all the people in the fucking UK, it had to be him.

And reminded that I’m 22. Not underage. And I can legally drink, thank you very much.

“Of course mate. I have a spare room she can use. I’ll barely be home this weekend.” It was the British Grand Prix and he is a presenter for Sky Sports, hence why he won’t be around.

To be fair, I only watch the post race show just to admire him. But my dad doesn’t need to know that, or Jenson himself. He doesn’t have to know how handsome he is or how smart he sounds given his knowledge in Formula One.

What’s more attractive than that?

And the fact that I have secret screenshots of his shots in my phone, but again, no one needs to know.

“Let me get her luggage full of god knows what type of dresses. I don’t even know when she bought them!”

"I hope you know how old I am, dad" I roll my eyes at his comment as Jenson lets out a small giggle, earning a death glare from my dad.

"Before she leaves the house, please make sure to see what she's wearing. And if there are any boys in sight." my dad warns him, as if I am going to enroll myself in the army and fight the enemy, which to him, would've been more preferable compared to a party.

"Got it. We definitely know that you think she's 17" Jenson replies and my mother laughs along, as I try not to burst out.

"If you side with Y/N, I will break your Porche." My dad's voice raise and I glance at Jenson who has a look plastered on his face as if he was offended and scared by the threat.

"I have kids myself, I think she's going to be safe with me. Come on Mark! I was the only driver you never crashed with, kinda." He takes the luggage away from my mother's hands and waves them goodbye as I go and hug them.

"Take care kiddo and if you need anything, im a call away. Also if you want to go to the paddock, the passes are under my name" he kisses my head after having me squeezed in a tight hug.

"Y-yes dad, I know. Now please let me go because I cant breathe."

"Sorry" he sets me free and I join Jenson's side. God he's tall and broad.

"Alright now, shall we?" he looks down at me and I nod, unable to utter a single word, even though I've know him my whole life.

The boys in my university were dying to hear stories with the senior formula one drivers, coming from a daughter of one. It's a nice feeling to narrate all the success and glory of this sport.

"Seriously though, your bag is very light. Are you even carrying anything in here?" Jenson asks, weighing up and down my luggage, flexing his muscles as I try not to drool all over the place.

"Only necessities. Dresses, shoes, makeup, few outfits for the race and condoms." the last one quite shocked him but also was a way of teasing him, given my major crush.

"You have condoms, yet I didn't hear you say panties"

"Won't be needing any"

"And why is that, may I ask?"

"Cause I like to be free. More access and more fun" I wink at him and I stare at his lips, a smirk is growing as each word is leaving mine.

"So you are telling me, that right now, underneath this short but nonetheless breathtaking dress, no panties are worn?"

I get closer to him and whisper softly in his ear:

"Wanna see for yourself?"

Honestly, don't ask me where I found this much confidence and especially with someone twice my age. And a friend of my dad's.

"Behave yourself darling" he coughs lightly to clear his throat and grabs me by the waist, so my dress doesn't float from the summer breeze.

"And what if I don't want you, Mr. Button?"

"Then you'll wish you had never said that" he growls and immediately opens me the door to his McLaren.

When he gets in the drivers seat, he wastes no time and gets on the road instantly. During the ride, there's a comfortable silence filling the atmosphere, until the air coming out of Jenson's window pulls up my dress and his hand quickly falls on my thigh, holding it down once more.

Jenson decides to roll up his window but his hand remains on my thigh and this time, is holding it firmly and starts caressing it from the inside.

Soft sighs leave my mouth, but controlling them is inevitable when his touch was all I have been craving since I turned 18. His foot hits the gas harder, speeding and driving in between the other slower cars. He reminds me of the Jenson back in his Brawn days and I can feel myself pooling just at the thought.

It was the very right time when his hand cupped my bare pussy, feeling the wetness caused by barely a thought of him. The slight touch of his fingers on my trembling self has my knees going paralyzed. I feel like crying from pleasure and yet I don't even know if he's doing that on purpose to embarrass me or if he's actually enjoying it too.

"Oh baby, you're definitely not behaving yourself" he says as his index finger draws circles around my clit. My legs are clenching his hand inside me as the other one holds the steering wheel, looking at his knuckles that have turned white.

"Jenson" I breathe out and moan simultaneously as he starts pumping two fingers inside me fiercely, letting myself to his mercy and unable to react.

"This behavior will have consequences young lady. I warned you" he lets a soft kiss on the crock of my neck and feeling his beard scratching it, I go absolutely insane.

"Then punish me sir" I blurt out without thinking and Jenson drives in seconds at the spot in front of his house, stops the car and places me on top of his lap with just one hand.

Jenson's lips crash into mine without wasting a second as his fingers play with my uncontrollably wet pussy. The feeling of moaning is surely necessary and I don't hold back. My tongue dances with his and the kiss gets deeper like his fingers, hitting perfectly my soft spot.

"You are going to be the death of me" Jenson says as his mouth falls on my neck, sucking it off like there's no tomorrow. My hands try to unbuckle his belt and eventually make it to the part where I can feel his erection growing. It's true what they say, older men do it better.

In other instances I would have been furious, but Jenson ripping my dress, just so he can have better access at my breasts is incredibly hot. I don't care that I am left vulnerable at his sight. At this I was pleading it.

My breast hurt from his kisses and I know in a few hours small red dickies will be covering the surface. My fingers decide to trace the shape of his thick cock but I can tell he wants to feel me. I have teased him and he me, for way too long.

"If you keep being naughty I won't let you cum, dear" a groan escapes his body as I take his length in my hands and caress the veins that have popped out.

"Then I want you to fill me up with your cum" I take him by surprise and I can sense his heartbeat raising from worry. He regards me as something innocent, precious and fragile. Which I am. But I feel ready and I am.

"Are you sure? I mean, have you? Uh? Had sex before?"

"I-uh-well, no. But-"

"Baby we can't do it here. You don't deserve to have your first time on a car. You deserve to be worshipped."

Jenson's words make me blush and my heart was flattering as if I was a fifteen years old again, simply watching him race and get multiple podiums.

He looks around and opens the door of his house and then quickly rushes with me inside and shuts it with such force, my legs started trembling.

Suddenly, he picks me up and carries me all the way to his bedroom. A dark room filled with some of his most iconic trophies and with his smell that has been covering my entire body since the moment I entered his car.

He turns on the soft baby lights on the bedrest and takes a look at my flushed self, covered with hickies he's gifted me. His eyes scan me from head to toe as if he's about to feast.

"I want you to tell me to stop whenever you feel uncomfortable in any way." He kisses me softly and I nod my head, knowing that he would never hurt anyone.

Jenson stands up and with his strong arms parts my legs so he can have a clear vision of my already swollen womanhood. My breast are half showing from inside my bra and my lips are bitten to the core. I am a mess but he seems to like it.

He removes his shirt in quick motions revealing his god like crafted body with the hints of dark ink covering his lower v and shoulder. I had never seen them before and I am was very pleased with what was in front of my eyes.

It doesn't take him too long to strip off his trousers and be left with simply his boxers that were trying to hold in his hardened cock and my patience as well. They were giving me a preview of what was about to happen.

As Jenson lowered his body his hands were hoisting down his boxers, revealing himself and it wasn't just my mouth that was drooling but also my pussy.

His hands now were on the insides of my thighs, holding them fiercely, whilst mine were hanging around his neck. I felt like my heart was about t burst out of my chest.

"Are you ready baby?"

I was at loss for words so I gave him a final kiss for reassurance that he could continue.

In slow motions, he lowered even more and started inserting himself inside me, pumping slowly as I was trying to get used to his size. My cries were out of control as Jenson was deepening himself and my pussy was stretched to its limits.

"Jesus, you're clenching me so well darling" he breathed out and I tried to open my legs wider for his pleasure. Jenson was panting on the hem of my neck and upping the pace of his thrusts.

"Dear lord this feels so good" It feels better than good. As if I am in the seventh heaven. I don't think any man will ever make me experience this. And I don't think I want to either.

"Say that again" he demands with a harder thrust, hitting my G-spot, earning the biggest moan of the night, echoing at the entire house.

"You make me feel so damn good Jenson" I gulp hard as I try to catch my breath and scratch his back from the pain that this gives me.

"And I shall be the only one darling" he hoists me up and removes my bra with a single movement, freeing my breasts and enjoying the sight, as they are bouncing up and down along with the trusts.

"Only you Jenson" I scream his name as loud as I can and his chest fills with pride as I am reaching my height.

"Cum sweetheart. Let go" I can't hold it in much longer and I cum all over his cock. He doesn't remove himself from inside me and I don't want to. This felt so right even though for some it's very wrong.

"That was, perfect" I say in a whispering manner as I am unable to speak louder. I am so wasted but full of thrill.

"You deserve it. You deserve to be treated like that dear"

#jenson button #jenson button x reader #jenson button x you #fanfic writing #f1 drivers

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mqverick · 8 months

Text

your woman || ‎ ‧₊˚ 𓂃౨ৎ

mature themes, 18+

very detailed smut, dni if you’re a minor

“just use me up and then you walk away

boy, you can’t play me that way”

─── ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ───

Every time Charlie Babbitt opened his mouth, it seemed like a never-ending awards ceremony was on, a lazy smirk living permanently on the corners of his lips. It was as if the idea of someone questioning him was both amusing and absurd. Charlie’s ego was so immense, it practically had its own gravitational pull. It was the sun in his universe, with everything and everyone else relegated to mere planetary status.

If the work didn’t pay well, you wouldn’t had bared a single second next to him, leaving to finally rest at your home with his excessively loud yelling still ringing in your ears, the annoyed sighs, the rude commands. To sum things up, Charlie Babbitt was the kind of man to drive you insane even if you were walking on sunshine.

It surprised you when he first announced that he’d preferred little old you over Lee to come along with him on a business trip in Palm Springs.

The response that rolled on the tip of your tongue at first was a big fat no. Why on earth would you want to spend an entire weekend with that nerve wrecking boss of yours when you could just enjoy the rewarding silence and comfort of your own home? But then again, when Charlie had his mind set on something, he stuck with it until the end.

In other words, whether you liked it or not, you were going on a little ‘getaway’ with him. Turned out, though, that his plans got disrupted by the sudden death of his father, forcing him to take a turn and drag you along to Cincinnati, where the funeral was taking place. You found out later on in the car that Charlie wasn’t the biggest fan of his father due to the lack of emotion he showed throughout the ride. You didn’t care to ask, simply letting out an annoyed groan every now and then to piss him off even further.

For four hours, you were participating in a scoff contest with him, winner would be the one with the longest, most pained sigh. Things got even worse — if possible — after Charlie spoke to the family lawyer about his inheritance, which was as disappointing as getting to work for him all day long. Couple of rose bushes and a stupid car.

“For fuck’s sake, Charlie, can you quit complaining about everything?” you yelled at him after deciding that you’d had about enough.

“Quit complaining?” he repeated, looking at you as if you were a lunatic. “Tell you one story. Just one. You know that convertible out front? My father loved that car more than he loved his family. It’d always been off limits to me. Tenth grade, I’m sixteen and for once I bring home a report card and it’s almost all straight A’s.”

You glanced at him, impressed with the statement, whistling out a low ‘ooh’. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Babbitt,” you commented and he had to break the eye contact for a minute, flushed with embarrassment and a light blush.

“Don’t look so damn surprised, Jesus. So, I go to my dad. Can I take the guys out in the Buick? A victory drive, you know. Says no, but I sneak it out anyway, take the keys. We’re on the Lakeshore Drive; four kids — and we get pulled over. He’d called in a report of a stolen car, not his son took the car out without permission. Just… stolen.”

“I’m getting bored of your sob story.”

“Shut up, will you?” he gritted through his teeth, sighing when you faked a yawn to demonstrate how deeply nonchalant you felt about his story.

“Get to an end, it’s been years.”

“Cook County Jail. Other guys’ dads bail ‘em out in an hour. He left me there two days. Drunks were throwing up everywhere, psychos eyeing me up… That was the only time in my life I was gut scared. Shit-your-pants fucking terrified. Left home, never came back and here I am.”

By the end of his memory, Charlie was trying to choke back a couple of tears that burned through his blurry eyes. His back was turned to you, he hated getting weak, felt as though the Trojan walls he’d built to keep up his mental strength had been bombed, collapsing into crumbles.

You said nothing — couldn’t bring yourself to. You weren’t used to being around that Charlie, had no idea how to react. Under normal conditions and had you not despised his guts, you would’ve hugged him so tightly that the air would get knocked out of his lungs, but it felt wrong, inappropriate for the moment. You settled for a tight-lipped smile instead, standing up and grabbing the second pillow from the bed, tucking it under your arm along with a blanket.

“Looks like you need the bed more than I do.”

Not even a goodnight. He didn’t bother to say another word to you either, so you called it a night, hugging the uncomfortable pillow closer to your head as you shivered under the blanket, wishing that you could’ve gotten the bed instead of the couch. Charlie deserved it that night, though. It was probably the least you could do for him, seeing as your way with words wasn’t exactly a delight. Sleep wasn’t on your side either.

Spent a couple of moments tossing around in agony, until you eventually decided to get up, blanket wrapped loosely around your shoulders as you rummaged through the library in the living room, encountering a photo album. You looked around in the room, making sure that Charlie was still in his room and placed the heavy album on your lap, carefully turning the pages.

Charlie at four years old. Then a bit older, standing alone in the picture, scrawny chest, baggy trunks. You had to stifle a chuckle, the pictures of younger him amusing you.

───

You both woke up early the next day, wind blowing through your hair as Charlie drove to the beneficiary down at the Lynwood Home. Just some stuff I have to wrap up for my dad’s estate, was the only explanation he gave you as he turned down the narrow road, clearing the crest of a hill now, a huge white building coming into view. A country estate, you reckoned.

Charlie continued toward it, approaching a man painting at an ease near the side of the road, shielding whatever he was working from the view by having his back turned to you.

“Excuse me, that place up there is the Lynwood Home, isn’t it?” But the man didn’t acknowledge Charlie in any way and you had to hold back a chortle. Nevertheless, he continued his way into the building, asking you to wait for him outside (wouldn’t take long, he said) as he sorted out the beneficiary issue that seemed to taunt him.

Not being in a mood for arguing, you did as you were told, patiently sitting in your seat as you shuffled through the radio station, trying to find a catchy song to listen to. You gasped in surprise when the sudden presence of a man sat next to you at startled you out of your boredom.

“Hello, can I help you?”

No response.

His hands were firmly grasped around the steering wheel as he started intently at it. Didn’t move at first, just stayed still for a couple of seconds before he began murmuring something that you couldn’t really make out. You tried to get him out of the car, but he flinched as if your touch was scorching against him in every intention of pushing him away. At some point, you gave up and hoped the man would leave when Charlie would come back, otherwise he was bound to hearing it from him very loudly.

Which indeed happened when he finally returned, rudely asking the poor guy to get going. Raymond, as you found later he was called, had other plans though. Apparently — and it came as much as a shock to you as it came to Charlie — he was his brother. Son of Sanford Babbitt.

Raymond Babbitt, who was kidnapped in some sort of way by Charlie, claiming that Dr. Bruner had suggested that he took his brother on a little trip. You knew that was just his usual bullshit talk, though, but tried to keep it down your throat, focusing more on helping Ray relax. He was mouthing stuff that made no sense, spelling out Vern and memorizing TV dialogues — he looked and sounded stressed and it made you want to hit Charlie’s breaks so abruptly that he’d crash his stupidly air floated head into the front shield of the car without the slightest hint of a warning.

Fucking California.

You found yourself in a crappy motel he’d rented in California for the night. Raymond was upset, so out of his comfort zone and familiar routine and places, sitting alone in his room as Charlie wandered back and forth all over the rooms while making calls back to Lee, informing him that he needed to put a pause in the business for a bit.

How insane was he exactly again?

“You’re a horrible fucking person, you know that?” you muttered lowly into his ear as you mustered a warm smile to his brother, opting to make whatever the hell of an experience that was at least enjoyable for him.

“You have no place in this.”

“No? Last time I checked you’ve been dragging me back and forth your stupid trips like I’m some sort of forgotten luggage.”

“That’s it — lights out, Ray Ray,” Charlie exclaimed in a forced enthusiastic voice as he grabbed your shoulder and pulled you outside, closing the door to Raymond’s room.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Get a fucking taxi and leave! I’m not going to give you explanation on what I do in my personal life,” he whispered-yelled at you, stalking across to his own room as you followed him, pissed.

“He’s your brother! You’ve kidnapped the poor guy, have been nothing but a dick to him and all that for what? Go apologize to him, tell him that first thing tomorrow morning you’re taking him back to the beneficiary,” you ordered him in the same tone he used at you.

Charlie shielded his eyes, running his palms down across his cheeks as he let out a long, dramatic sigh, burning holes through your head with his malicious glaring. “The fuck that’s happening! He’s a freaking pain in the ass, obviously I’m not going to tuck him in and kiss his forehead goodnight — I’m not his mother.”

“You’re his kid brother, Charlie. For crying out loud, he needs you, the least you can do for him is show some respect. It’s not his fault he doesn’t understand the world the same way you and I do,” your voice softened just a tad, trying to keep the noise down for Raymond not to hear. “He’s your big brother, could be someone to look up to—”

Charlie glared down at the floor, fighting of his temper. He shook his head — could be even be hearing to your nonsense? “What’s going on in my life is none of your fucking business and you get no chance to go around giving advice.”

“Fine, be the shitty piece of burning crap you are then, I couldn’t care less. But you owe me explanation on why you brought him here. What are we even doing in California?”

Charlie collapsed on the foot of his bed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to keep him. I’m pissed off at him…”

“What is that even supposed to mean? Pissed off at Raymond? What has he done to you?”

“No, at my dad. I need to get what’s mine, okay? He left Ray a shit ton of money and… You heard what Lenz said, okay? He doesn’t even understand the concept of money — my dad preferred to leave him three million dollars, up until every last dime, he fucking despised me.”

You blinked slowly, trying to absorb all of this.

“You’re telling me you’re treating Ray like he’s some sort of your property for money? Where the fuck do you get off, Charlie — you’re disgusting!”

You stalked past him in the bedroom, storming off as you slammed your hands on each side of your head in disbelief. You heard him get up from the bed, catching up with you as he snatched your arm and turned your body towards his own.

“You don’t know how it feels to be in my shoes right now, okay? Look, I need you… I need you here, this is all very confusing for me and—”

“For you?! What about Ray? Is anyone’s life even worth anything to you? No, wait, everything has to be about you only! What do you even need me for, huh? Babysitting, pussy, more money? I’m fucking leaving, I don’t want to be involved in your little freakshow,” you were screaming now, unable to hold yourself back as your finger stabbed toward the wall to punctuate your points.

“What’s my crime here?” Charlie continued, as if he was clueless to the entire situation. You wished you could just start punching sense into his head.

“Your crime is that you use people. You’re using Ray, you’re using me, you use everyone you son of a bitch. I hope your money goes into your fucking grave when you—” out of the blue, his mouth was covering yours with force, hands clutching into your shoulders as he tried to keep you steady against him, eyes squeezed shut.

You recoiled, unable to gauge any reaction out of your body, but let him continue bringing more heat into the moment, eventually getting you to start moving your lips against his, matching the urgency he initiated. When Charlie pulled away, your brain was still foggy, struggling to catch your breath, which seemed to be an issue for him too.

“You wouldn’t shut up,” he explained in a raspy voice. It’d just hit him what he’d done; kissing you, kissing the person that he swore he hated. It was true, though, he’d only done it to get you to stop talking, your angry statements about his screwed up plans causing him to lose control.

Your eyebrow raised upwards in slight confusion and effort of comprehending that Charlie’s lips had been on yours just a moment ago and you’d never felt so good, so complete before in your life. You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pinned him against the wall behind him, hearing him let out a chocked gasp, which for some reason sent a tingling sensation through your lower body. The second kiss was firmer, more passionate, because this time, you both knew exactly what was happening, it was consensual and Charlie’s crotch was pressing so beautifully against your thighs that you felt as if you were high. His hands were going through your hair, messing it up completely as he explored the rest of your face too, fingers gently cupping your cheeks for a brief second, before they dipped into the curves of your waist.

You arched against his touch, biting down on your lip as his mouth now moved below, leaving a trail of rushed wet kisses through your jawline. You felt him smirk against your neck as he softly dragged his teeth against your soft spot, licking and sucking, applying just the right amount of pressure to hear your muffled noises of pleasure.

“Ray—Raymond is in the next room,” you breathed, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your lips parted in a silent moan when you felt his index finger graze your underboob through the material of your thin blouse.

“He doesn’t understand this, he’ll probably think we’re fighting,” Charlie replied to you as he surfaced from the side of your collarbone to pepper small, quick pecks on your lips.

“We are fighting.”

“Good, shut up and fight me more then.”

You melted against him as he guided you backwards into the bedroom, dipping your chin over the slope of his shoulder as he held your weight, stumbling as your back accidentally hit against the corner of the door, making you wince. You didn’t care, though, pushing the door shut as Charlie pressed you against it with a loud thud. You lazily wrapped your legs around his lower waist, but his grip on your ass was strong enough to support you.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, absentmindedly tugging at it and eliciting a somewhat loud moan from him that made your entire system shudder, embarrassed at how wet you were growing just by making out. “Fuck, Charlie — bed now.”

He obliged, laying you on the bed as he pulled his already half unbuttoned shirt off, fighting back a cocky smile when he noticed you impatiently unclasp your bra under your blouse. He towered over you, falling gently on top your shoulder as he held onto your hips, placing soft kisses on your flesh. He had full consciousness of the effect he was having on you, finding it incredibly hot.

“God, you’re so…” he trailed off, hoping you hadn’t heard him. Truth was, Charlie had always been captivated by your beauty, convinced himself that there wasn’t another person in the planet that was half as gorgeous as you were.

He placed a tender kiss on your lips and helped you take your blouse off, giving you a moment to breathe before getting lost into the V-line between your breasts. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped from your mouth when the tip of his tongue made contact with your cold skin, his hums and groans vibrating through it.

The man who you’d been at odds with was tracing his digits dangerously close to the hem of your underwear and it all felt like the glimpse of embarrassment from having wet fever dream that pleased you more than any other human touch.

“I still think you’re the worst person I’ve met, by the way,” you muttered through tiny sighs, eyes closed as your fingers twisted around the bed sheets, hips suddenly jerking as you finally felt his hand hover over your scorching core through your trousers. “Stop fucking teasing me.”

“I think it’s rich that you’re giving me orders when I can just completely stop touching you and go to sleep while you’re whining like a mess,” Charlie replied, distancing himself from you in demonstration, walking right across the other side of the room to pick up his discarded shirt.

You were going to skin the bastard alive.

“Fuck you, Charlie, you’re a fucking brute, you know that?” you yelled in frustration, getting up from the bed and sprinting over to him, turning him around and crashing your lips against his, nails now digging painfully into the curves of his ripped back. Stealing each other’s air, you fell back into the bed again, pulling his trousers down and almost cumming when you caught a glimpse of his cock twitching against the fabric of his gray boxers, sort of visible due to the front patch that had gotten all wet and sticky from his precum.

You pulled at his hair, breaking the kiss to smile a little when you noticed that he was equally lost in the moment, biting on his bottom lip lustfully, looking at you through half-lidded eyes and beautiful blown pupils. You could feel the thud of your combined heartbeats, while fumbling to take off more clothing pieces, needing to feel every inch of his skin pressed up against yours, giving you goosebumps. You’d never felt that way.

“Fuck, that hurts,” he winced as your nails dug so deep into his back’s muscles that they ended up leaving wound marks, fresh and sort of pinkish.

“Touch me or it’ll get worse,” you threatened, knowing that as he’d said earlier, you weren’t really in a place to be colourful with him. His tongue scraped the roof of your mouth as he ran a finger down your center, testing the waters over your underwear and smirking when he felt the heat of your soaked panties radiate against his digit. You were so ready for him and he hadn’t even began doing anything to you — his erection growing painful at the observation.

“You’re so hot for me, I haven’t even touched you yet, gosh,” he whispered through a strangled moan, mind hazy as he tossed your panties aside and finally slipped a finger inside of you. Your hips jerked in surprise, rocking against his hand, craving the friction, the urge to fill you up more.

You moaned embarrassingly loud when the tip moved in a hither motion, almost losing your shit. He didn’t take too long to add another finger, which only made it better for you as you took a quick glance at him through your lashes, butterflies gushing inside your stomach at the sight of him, all worked up, lips parted as small groans came out of them, eyes closed as he fought off the need to wrap a hand around his dick as well, get off to touching you.

“Charlie,” you cried out his name, hips rolling forward as his touch made contact with your bundle of nerves. His long fingers were hitting all the right spots inside of you and the combination of the still very burning anger for him and the little wet noises along with his grunts had sent you over the edge a lot faster than you’d expected.

The moment Charlie felt your walls clench around his fingers, he pulled them off, wiping them off on the fabric of his boxers as he muffled your frustrated whimper with a kiss, permitting his hand to touch himself over his boxers as you ground against his thigh, pulling him down on top of you. Off, you mouthed, looking at his underwear. The bastard was driving you insane, so you yanked them off when you noticed he had no intention to giving in to your requests, sliding them down his ankles. Your jaw almost dropped at the gates of hell when you saw him, needing a moment to take it all in. He was so pretty, so achingly ready to go inside you, the image alone was enough to make you cum, your previous upcoming orgasm still hanging around the air.

“What did I tell you earlier? We’re doing this my way or we’re not doing anything at all.”

“Fuck, please, just fuck me, Charlie, I can’t wait any longer,” you found yourself pleading, forgetting that just ten minutes ago you’d been on the verge of cracking his skull open.

His eyes scanned your naked body for a second and you scoffed, tilting your head in confusion.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he admitted lowly, face growing hot as if he wasn’t just about to raw your bones. He crawled closer to you, giving you a kiss before parting your thighs, muscles clenching as his tip teasingly grazed your entrance. He wanted to make you feel so good, have you remembering that moment all the nights you’d be alone at your house, be the man you’d compare all the other men to in bed.

Except Charlie didn’t want you to have any other men after that night. Hoped he’d be good enough to make you want more of him, perhaps stay the nights over, ask to sleep next to him after, if he was lucky and satisfying enough.

“Sure you want to do this?” he asked you before he could change everything between the two of you, already knowing what your reply would be.

“Yes, god, yes, be fucking done with it already,” you dragged out, dramatically impatient. Your head was thrown back the moment he slid fully into you, staying still for a bit in order for you to adjust. Both of you inhaled a sharp breath, eyes shutting closed as he lost his balance a little, the dizzying feel of finally getting to be embraced by the warmth of your walls causing his heart to beat faster than a sledgehammer against his chest.

“You feel so good,” he hoarsed, forehead connecting with yours as he absentmindedly leaned down to kiss your nose. When he moved, slowly thrusting forward, you swore you wouldn’t be able to last enough. His breath was hot against the cell of your ear, allowing you to hear every groan, every noise he made and it turned you on so much that it practically ached.

“Faster,” you ordered, rolling your hips as he began having a steady pace, sloppy, wet sounds echoing in the room as Charlie fucked you rougher and rougher, skin slapping. The bed was squeaking now, your one hand grasping for dear life onto the sheets as the other wrapped tightly around his waist, fingers dipped into the curve of his lower abdomen. You focused on his face again, your heartbeat racing as you noticed his front teeth poking out of his parted lips, finding it both adorable and incredibly sexy.

He’d stopped moaning, not wanting you to know how desperately he needed you, his hands firmly placed on your hips as he tortured himself silently. “You like that? Like how we’re fighting?”

“Shut up,” you cried out. The angle he was hitting inside of you was killing you, you wanted him deeper, impossibly much, needed him to split you in half. “You’re the fucking worst.”

Electricity jolted through your veins as he picked up pace, practically slamming into you now, the moans he’d tried to hold back in his throat coming out in a struggle. “‘M not going to last long,” he warned you, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, hands cupping your cheeks with force.

“Cum inside of me.”

You really had no idea what you were doing to him, had you? Who — Charlie Babbitt — feeling his cock twist against your walls just by hearing you say you wanted him to cum in you. You had him in a chokehold, it was kind of ridiculous.

“Fuck, I—” he never got to finish what he was going to say in the first place, because you were trembling under his touch, overwhelmed by the speed and the fact that your worst fucking enemy was fucking you like you’d never been fucked before and it was all enough to send you over the edge for the second time that night, except now Charlie didn’t stop, didn’t pull away. You propped your chin upwards and caught his mouth in yours as you came, feeling him follow shortly after you, cum shooting inside of you in warm spurts as he fucked you through your orgasms, groaning loudly, body jerking.

Once both of you had reached your highs, he collapsed on top of your body, head buried into your shoulder as the two of you tried to catch your breaths, legs tensing. It eventually dawned on you that you just had sex with Charlie Babbitt.

“That was the hottest fucking sex I’ve ever had,” you confessed as he rolled off of you, laying next to your side as he chest rose in and out.

“Yeah,” he breathed, unable of saying much.

“I hate you.”

“You’ve got a really nice way of showing it.”

You kneed his thigh and he winced, still very fragile from the intensity of his orgasm. His hair was all sticky and sweaty, clung into his forehead, face flushed and red. You could orgasm all over again just by looking at him. “I believe we’ve traumatised your brother for life.”

“Worth it.”

“You’re taking him back tomorrow.”

“No, I’ve already told you—” you cut him off by kissing him, the tip of your tongue lingering against his bottom lip as you pulled him deeper into your mouth, hand tangling into his hair.

“You’re not the only one who gets to shut up others by kissing them. And if you ever want this to happen again, you’re going to do things my way from now on.”

And Charlie was just fine with that.

FIN.

tags: again, i wrote this for @honeymvnt so i hope you’ll enjoy reading this ml !! 🎀🫵🏼

#rain man #charlie babbitt #charlie babbitt x reader #rain man x reader #tom cruise #tom cruise x reader #smut #enemies to lovers #pete mitchell #tom cruise imagine #this is mostly for me #maverick fanfic #maverick fluff #pete maverick mitchell #so much smut #oneshot #tom cruise oneshot #charlie babbitt oneshot

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etirabys · 7 months

Note

What were the major factors for you in deciding whether to have kids?

Unwillingness to forego one of the most intense and unique human relationships possible: "The key to the sociobiology of mammals is milk. Because young animals depend on their mothers during a substantial part of their early development, the mother-offspring group is the universal nuclear unit of mammalian societies."

When I was younger, my major objection to having kids was that it would interfere with my career. I cared a lot about my career and looked forward to transitioning from a student who worked really hard and excelled in classes to a professional who worked really hard and excelled in the workplace and also earned a boatload of money. But then it turned out that I wasn't a hard worker, I just loved studying and taking exams. I don't have a career or the relationship to a career I envisioned, so that's the major obstacle removed.

Seven years ago, I went to a meetup hosted by an economist who liked historical reenactments. His three adult children were in SCA garb, served the guests food from a medieval Persian cookbook, and sat around arguing with him (and the rest of us) about economics. It was my first encounter with a family where the children shared interests with their parents and talked like peers. It fundamentally changed my mind on what families could look like.

Similar story: I visited my friend's family two years ago, and stayed in his teen daughter's room because there had been an in-house auction to determine whose room would go to the guest. She won and was monetarily compensated for it. In addition to having another example of a Relatable Family Where The Members Actually Like Each Other, I found my friend and his spouse's financial philosophy appealing and will be compensated for pregnancy and childcare by my spouse. 20% of my objection to having kids was objection to the financial arrangements of traditional marriage (which imo fucked over both of my parents when their relationship broke down... but more so my mom), so it shifted me on the kids issue to see & adopt a financial arrangement that to me feels more autonomy-preserving, egalitarian, and respectful of my labor and opportunity costs.

I knew I didn't want to be pregnant, didn't particularly like infants, didn't want to interact with toddlers for more than an hour (I like them but get very fatigued and have to go lie face down to recharge), which seemed like a good argument to not have kids. But I also simulated being 70 and childless and it felt distinctly bad. Among other reasons I noticed for the first time that I want a connection to the coming generations, which was startling.

It was hard not to notice that the giant would make an excellent dad, and also that we have complementary skill sets and preferences qua parents.

I read "Selfish Reasons to Have More Kids" after I'd already decided to have kids, but when I was discussing the decision with friends, multiple of them brought the book up. Its basic argument is that we (I suppose I mean Americans and East Asians here) invest in our children well past the point where it matters, which increases the quality of life difference between parents and nonparents, which sucks because lots of people would enjoy raising kids if the unnecessary expectations were dropped. Once I actually read the book I found it suspect (I stopped reading when Caplan described a study and then drew an inference that didn't logically follow), but the conclusion seems true based on observation and common sense. My own parents and I had a lot of conflict over piano lessons because proficiency in an instrument was expected in their milieu. My mom regularly fought me to make me eat breakfast (to this day I don't eat in the morning, my body just isn't made for that) even though it would have been fine to send me off to school with a banana to tide me over until lunch. People trade away health and career points to breastfeed even though the evidence is shaky that it matters. My sister is pursuing a zero screen policy with her child and said this choice significantly increases work and emotional toll. Once I noticed I was the type to be an overworked neurotic parent and that I'd priced my own terrible personality in when simulating how hard childrearing would be, I also noticed I could (with effort) not be that person and have an easier time. So my expectations of parenting changed.

#rambl #dashreplies #parenting #about #I admit I'm also really worried about screens.#but mostly I worry about the interactable apps and the children's video ecosystem. tv seems fine. i'll do more research when it's relevant

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johnnycakesswitch · 3 months

Note

do you have any fluff headcanons of the gang watching a horror movie? i love them sm

Thank you for the ask honey!! I’m sorry I didn’t get to this sooner but I was so tired after work and wanted to make sure I was giving you some good hcs 🫡 without further ado, here are hcs abt the gang watching a horror movie!

• so I feel like I have some controversial opinions. I think Darry, Pony, and Johnny are the ones who would actually be super into horror movies. Darry is 20, he’s so young and probably likes to indulge in something that can take his mind off of real life stress every now and then. I’m sure he watched horror movies as a teen with his friends or maybe his dad, so I think he would like them

• I think Johnny would like them to because he just knows it’s not real. Unfortunately, Johnny has to deal with so much in his real life, the scary movies don’t really get to him. I think he would like the idea of the controlled adrenaline rush. He knows he’ll be getting startled but it’s not like fight or flight startled. I think this would be a situation in which he likes getting his heart rate up and is like on the edge of his seat during the movie even if he’s seen it before

• I know everyone says Pony and Johnny would be the ones like shitting themselves over a scary movie, but one of the biggest canon traits we have for Pony is that this kid loves movies!!! He’s 14, he always goes to the movies by himself, he’s bound to have seen a few horror movies and I feel like he’d enjoy them. Bro can appreciate cinema. I think he would really enjoy a movie that genuinely gets him scared because he would just think like wow that was really well made

• everyone else is like neutral in different variations about movies. Dally enjoys them, he doesn’t get super startled and sometimes he thinks they can be corny but horror movies are one of his preferred genres. Two-Bit always jumps really hard but then laughs when he’s scared, so he’s having a good time. Steve and Soda are like genuinely into it and get startled by every little thing. Horror movies are actually one thing that can keep Soda’s attention span because he’s afraid to move a muscle ✋😭 he’s sat looking at the aceeen like this the whole time 😰 Steve is scared during the movie but once it’s over it’s over, Soda doesn’t get up to go to the bathroom alone for a few nights and clings to Pony a little harder everytime he hears a noise 💀

• Darry always makes that popcorn for everyone that you do over the stove, Soda is under every circumstance banned from doing so bc he always walks away or gets distracted and it explodes 😓

• so Darry would sit in his chair, sometimes if it’s a movie that’s supposed to be really scary Pony will sit on the floor by his legs because it makes him feel better having his big brother right there ☹️ Dally and Johnny will be sitting on the couch and if this is a jally universe Johnny will always have his arms wrapped around Dally’s bicep and resting his head on his shoulder. Sometimes Pony will sit on the couch with them if he’s not on the floor. Steve and Soda will usually sit on the floor and cling to each other and Two-Bit likes to sit on the couch behind them so he can startle them by like squeezing their sides and they’ll holler so loud 😭😭😭

• usually on horror movie nights, everyone will sleepover and tend to stay where they are. Pony will squish himself onto the couch between Two-Bit and Johnny, Steve and Soda will sleep on the floor bc they’re too scared to move smh, Darry will sometimes stay with them and sleep in his chair but if he has work early he’ll go to bed and Two-Bit will sleep in the chair so there’s more room on the couch

• they all genuinely look forward to their horror movie nights because it’s something they can all do together that everyone finds enjoyable and it’s just sweet 🥺

#thank you for the ask!!#the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders #two bit mathews #steve randle #dally winston #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #johnny cade #ponyboy curtis #asks

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joelsfavouritegirl · 7 months

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pre-outbreak joel hcs because i’m bored out of my mind and fantasising about this man is 10x better than studying<33 (and because pixel joel deserves all the love in the world, my bb is barely on tumblr anymore since the show came out)

. opens doors for you, doesn’t matter where or when. you’re getting out of the car? he’s already on the passenger side, tugging the door handle open. you’re about to enter some building? he’s already pulling/pushing the door handle open, that small smile on his lips as he steps aside to let you in first, his hand by reflex guiding you in on the small of your back

. ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT HIS HANDS, on you at all times wherever whenever. i definitely think joel isn’t a huge fan of pda (he prefers keeping you to himself, i’ll die on this hill if i have to), but ohmygod his hands are always lingering. the small of your back as he leads you somewhere, your waist if it’s cold out or you just happen to be close to him, an arm over your shoulder as you walk/sit, it’s to fucking die forrr

. wouldn’t know how to cook shit (as confirmed by Tommy in tlou2). burns every possible thing he can, would barely be able to flip a pancake if you asked him to. he’d panic like a little kid left alone at the cash register, fumbling with the pan and spatula before it all somehow ends up on the countertop (or the floor).

however, a steak or grilled cheese from this man? all your problems are solved, it’s like he switches to some chef alter-ego whenever you ask him to make it. also acts like it’s the most non-chalant thing ever, trying to ignore the fact that he can’t cook to save his life yet he can make a grilled cheese you’d choose as your last meal if you could.

“holy shit… this is so good?!”

he’s just staring at you, confused at the shock on your face, “is… that a bad thing, sweets?”

“no, not at all. it’s just… this is fuckin’ delicious and… well, your history with cooking isn’t really the best, y’know?”

“shut up,” and he’s biting off half of your sandwich, chuckling as you swat him away annoyedly.

. also can we talk about this? mr let-me-have-a-bite-and-proceeds-to-eat-the-whole-thing Miller. is it like a universal dad thing or smth?

can’t trust him with cooking, can’t trust him with food at all really. it doesn’t really matter what you have (ice cream, a sandwich, some drink you just bought, he’ll eat anything), you can bet your ass he’s probably gonna ask you if he can have a bite/sip of it.

“no,” you retort, tucking the smoothie you bought from the stand literally five seconds ago behind your back, “you won’t like it. you’re just gonna drink the whole thing and i won’t have anything left.” “c’mon sweets, you know i ain’t like that,” his hand is on his hip, a knowing smirk on his lips as he tries to defend himself/gaslight you (quite badly), “just a small sip. i promise. nothin’ more.”

and of course you cave. how could you not when he’s looking at you expectantly with those pretty hazel eyes you adore so much?

and the moment you hand him the drink half the liquid is gone. his lips wrap around the straw, practically inhaling the fucking thing. your face contorts, something in between shock and annoyance as he hands you back the now mostly empty cup.

“tastes like shit,” he remarks, tucking you under his arm.

love this man to death, idk how naughty dog makes pixels this attractive<33 would gladly share all my food with him and more

#joelmiller #thelastofus #game joel miller #naughty dog #love this man to the moon and to saturn #this is gonna be seen by three people but idc #love this man unconditionally #joel miller hcs #headcanons #pixel joel

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reelovesfictionalmen · 1 year

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Single Dad Simon Riley

A request for Single Dad Simon from @buzzyb33 I hope this is what you wanted, I kinda just went with what my monkey brain came up with.

SINGLE DAD SIMON

Single Dad Simon has twins. A boy who is docile, shy and hides behind Simon's legs around new people. His daughter is bold and boisterous. Sometimes he swears she almost bounces off of the walls. Their mother has been out of the picture since not long after they were born, she pays child support but has otherwise severed all parental support and interactions with the twins. The boy twin is named Theo and the girl is April. The names are the only two things their mother left them with.

Single Dad Simon used to hate her for abandoning their children but in time he accepted it as being the best. Forcing her to stay would likely have just hurt the kids more. Simon gave up his career in the military to take care of his kids and be a present father. He works as a plumber, a pretty good one at that. He makes enough money to provide for his kiddos and put money aside for emergencies and/or their futures. He wants to have enough money put away for them if they decide to go to university. Giving up his career was difficult but it had to be done, he was all they had and he wants to give them a childhood so much better than his own.

Single Dad Simon finds being a dad almost as stressful as being in the SAS and doing all that sort of thing. Raising the twins on his own through their infancy to toddlerhood was mentally and physically exhausting. There were nights when both of the twins were teething, would not go to sleep and just kept screaming where he felt like running away. But he never did of course, our Simon aint a quitter ESPECIALLY when it comes to his kids.

Single Dad Simon is still in contact with 141, they come to visit when on leave. Soap and Gaz like to spoil the twins. April LOVES uncle Soap. She calls him a "pretty princess". She also makes takes Gaz, Soap and Theo out into the garden where she likes to play construction work barbie, digging up the garden and making "roads" for her and her brothers cars. Theo, the sweet little boy really opens up around Price. Something about Price brings out his bolder side. He's always tackle hugging Price and asking lots of questions about the cool planes and other vehicles he's been in. Neither of the twins really believe that their father was big and tough like their uncles. Simon honestly prefers that they don't believe that he was a big bad military man, he tries to keep as much of his personal military career from them.

Single Dad Simon who frets when the twins first go to primary school and after school care. He doesn't like being away from them for such long periods of time, deep down he knows that they will be just fine and they will be safe but the other part of him frets terribly. What if they get bullied? What if they hurt themselves? What if they get mean teachers? After the first year he calms down considerably with his worries but there is a side of him that will never relax and be wary for danger.

Single Dad Simon who finds himself getting lonely as the kids settle into school life and his business does well. He finds himself wishing for romantic companionship and a feminine influence for his children. He worries that only having military men for family will stunt their mental growth. He promises himself to open himself up to the possibility of meeting someone new.

When Single Dad Simon does find someone he clicks with, he doesn't hide that he has kids and is a single parent. But he makes clear that it will take an extended period of time before he introduces them to her. He needs to be sure that he can trust her around them. If she already knows them through some outside of school place, like the bakery they always go to on Sunday or the Librarian at the library where the after school program is held, he will be less wary of having her in their private lives but will still TAKE HIS TIME.

Single Dad Simon is a good dad. He struggles with the stress and isolation sometimes but he has 141 as his brothers and maybe one day soon he might have a lady in his life who will welcome his kids and him with open arms into her own life.

#simon ghost riley #singledadsimon #simon riley #call of duty fanfic #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #call of duty #cod x reader #mw2 x reader

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rocksalt-and-pie · 11 months

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alright I've made a more in depth list of episodes I would like to see in a fanservice season 16 as previously mentioned in my other post:

- human Impala (should be portrayed by a 55+ years old actor or actress with a strong Detroit accent and a very loud deep voice. they have arthritis in their shoulders because Dean never oils their creaking door hinges)

- Sam and Dean body swap (the potential for jokes is just top tier and the outtakes from this will be out of this world) (Jensen playing Jared playing Sam and the other way around sounds like absolute chaos)

Cas immediately recognizes Dean even in Sam's body and it's revealed that all this time he has been looking directly at Dean's soul 😭 (no kissing in this episode though. God the psychological damage a Misha/Jared kiss would cause)

- parallel universe with female Sam and Dean that they get sent to and meet each other / alternatively: some kind of gender swap curse that makes them turn into women (the potential for misogynistic jokes turning into more understanding and therefore changed behavior is just chef's kiss)

Bonus points for Cas off-handedly mentioning that he doesn't think it's weird that he wasn't affected by the curse because technically he has no gender and the body he inhabits is just a vessel (close up on Dean's face Thinking Thoughts)

Rowena takes care of it and compliments the female versions of them and it's kinda gay ("do we have to turn you back? Shame, would have been nice to have some female company, we could have formed a coven! Or done other fun things" cut to irritated glances being exchanged between the brothers/sisters)

- Jack and Claire teaming up for a hunt (preferably saving their damsel in distress father and step-dad that got trapped in some dangerous place where they finally have nothing but time to talk things out because there is no way to escape, you have to be freed from the outside)

- stanford era Dean flashbacks (feeling lost and alone on the road)

- Bobby and Rufus in the 80s flashbacks (including baby Winchesters!)

- Bigfoot hunt (the teddy bear episode doesn't count) but it's just an escaped gorilla or something. I just wanna see them hiking again okay I like the woods

- some, like, desert monster idk. filmed on location in Arizona or Nevada in the sweltering heat. the boys being forced to remove layer after layer of plaid. show me Dean in a tank top (handprint included)

- birthday episode (either Sam's or Dean's idc. How come that in 15 years there was never a case taking place during one of their birthdays!)

- an actual wedding, either Sam and Eileen or Jody and Donna or Dean and [gun shots]

- beach episode, show me those bathing suits. give me a Bond girl moment

- another Wayward Sisters episode please

- reverse French mistake although it would be absolutely fucking insufferable and I would hate it with all my heart (but it would be sooo funny)

- resolve all the other loose threads of open ended episodes (there are so many! The tulpa from season 1! The girls in the hotel from the haunted house episode in season 2! Jesse the antichrist kid from season 5! The witch twins and how one of them brought the other back from the dead! The kid of that monster friend of Sam's that Dean killed in season 8 i think and told him to his face to come looking for him when he's grown up! That's five whole episodes right there!! and those are just the ones i could come up with from the top of my head but I'm sure there's more)

- BRING BACK BELA FOR JUST ONE SCENE PLEASE

- a lot of you mentioned a proper musical episode, which. sure why not. a curse that makes you sing/perceive everything happening as music perhaps?

- and then of course. The coconuts gently colliding but this goes without saying

#supernatural #season 16 #spn #spn season 16 #supernatural season 16 #supernatural reboot #spn reboot #destiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #mp #this is how EYE would do it

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darlingsart · 1 year

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Would you tell us about your patrochilles modern au with Pyrrhus? What are you hcs?

Sure thing!

So in my mind I imagine this whole thing started when Patroclus got into a great university overseas (I’ve always imagined Achilles like a year younger than him) so he ends up going and they try out the long distance thing for a while but it’s never quite right so they decide that taking a break might be best. Achilles is dramatically over the top heartbroken so his mother tries to set him up with a coworker’s daughter, Deidameia.

The one time they do go out, they end up sleeping together but it’s a one and done deal and after that they don’t see each other again.

Flash forward a few years later, Patroclus is finally finishing up his degree and getting ready to come back home so they agree to get back together and try this whole thing again. For the first few months that Patroclus is back, everything is bliss, they get an apartment, Achilles has a good job at his dad’s company (an easy job where he barely does anything and gets paid a ton of money. Yay for nepotism) and Patroclus is busy with grad school. Things are going really well! Until Deidameia shows up at their door one day with a three year old kid and tells Achilles that he’s the father and thus begins their journey through parenthood lmao

(More under the cut bc there’s a lot lmao)

Some head canons I have:

-At first they have joint custody of Pyrrhus which pretty quickly turns to full custody

-Pyrrhus is a little energetic menace, he’s always in trouble for something

-I’ve said it before but I love the idea that Pyrrhus prefers Patroclus over Achilles. Like let’s say Achilles tries to make him something to eat Pyrrhus is quick to say “That’s not the way Pat makes it!” And is always like WELL Pat does this like this, etc.

-I would imagine that Patroclus wasn’t thrilled about any of this at first because while Achilles did tell him he went on one date with someone else, he failed to mention that he had slept with this girl so this entire situation catches him off guard. BUT he ends up bonding with Pyrrhus pretty quickly

-Achilles is the type of parent who solves Pyrrhus’ tantrums with ice cream or sweets bc like what the heck else is he supposed to lmao and Patroclus is always like you’re gonna spoil his appetite

-Thetis is an overbearing grandma who’s just happy to have a grandchild, she’s always visiting with gifts and such

-Weekend trips to the zoo/museums/parks, lots of fun stuff together which Pyrrhus seems to appreciate even if he doesn’t always say thank you

-Pyrrhus is kept on one of those kid leashes until he’s like 7 because he can’t be trusted not to bite someone else’s kid or get into something

I’ve got so much for this au I’ll have to write a fic one day 😅

#patrochilles #tsoa #asks

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corroded-hellfire · 2 years

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I don’t have a great idea or prompt but your As You Wish Older!Eddie absolutely stopped me in my tracks and I think about him daily 😩 idk if you’d prefer a totally different universe to write older!eddie but I got thinking about As You Wish Eddie and just wondering what like a different night with him and reader maybe Pre-AYW where they’re a lil cuddly but shouldn’t be or post-AYW date night where things actually go well and it’s happy for them both and Eddie’s efforts are appreciated (looking at u Brittany 😒)

I swear, I didn't intend for this to be so long. Yet here we are. This is Pre-As You Wish. Thank you so much for this request! I love writing this little gang so much.

Words: 11.8k

“But I want one,” Luke says with an overdramatic sigh. He flops back on the couch, arm dropping above his head, reminding you of a swooning Southern Belle.

“You’re being silly,” you tell him, reaching down to ruffle his brown curls. “It’s not that I just said no, you can’t have one. There are literally no cupcakes in the whole house, kiddo.”

The five-year-old acts as if your words have wounded him, curling up himself and holding his chest with both hands as if he’s been stabbed. Where did he get this stuff?

“Will die without frosting!” Luke says weakly. You can’t help but laugh at his adorable antics as you kneel down near his head. There’s no doubt that he’s the most entertaining part of your job.

“Oh no,” you say, copying his dramatics. “We’re going to lose Luke!”

Without opening his eyes, Luke gives his head a nod, letting his tongue loll out of his mouth. The front door opens and your heart soars, though there’s a brief flash of panic that it’s not the parent of the children that you want to see. When the sound of heavy boots being kicked off reaches your ears, you relax, but stay in character for your game with Luke.

“Eddie, come quickly!” Your tone is teasing, and you throw him a smile over your shoulder to let him know that you’re only fooling around. Eddie’s smirk says he’s game to play along.

“What’s wrong with my boy?” Eddie says, faking a gasp and coming to kneel next to you at Luke’s side.

“He says he’s dying from lack of cupcakes,” you say, placing your hand on your heart.

“Frosting,” Luke grits out, making both you and Eddie hide snorts of laughter.

“Right. From lack of frosting,” you amend.

“It’s such a shame,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “If only he could hold on for two more days until his brother’s birthday.”

Luke pops open a bright blue eye, peeking at his father. “Oh yeah.”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie mimics his son’s voice, wrinkling up his nose.

“What kind of cake?” Luke asks, abandoning his theatrical game and sitting up on the couch.

“I’ll tell you if you give me a hug,” Eddie offers, and Luke launches himself at his dad. Eddie laughs and presses a kiss to his temple. “Vanilla cake. Vanilla icing.”

“Strawberry’s better,” Luke says.

“Then we’ll have that on your birthday,” Eddie says, mussing up the little boy’s hair before standing. “Where’s Ryan?”

“Taking a bath,” you say, standing up after him. “We finished his homework, and he said if he takes a bath now, he can read before bed instead.”

Eddie grins and shakes his head as he unzips the navy coveralls he’s wearing. Your eyes can’t help but trail his hands, rough and calloused from manual labor, pulling down the zipper so he can shrug his top half out of the garment.

Luke gets bored now that none of the attention is on him, so he scurries to his room to find something to keep him occupied.

“That kid,” Eddie says, his tone full of adoration for his oldest son. “I have no idea where he gets it. The brains, the books. Certainly not my genes.”

“Hey, you’re smart,” you argue with a pout. Eddie lets out a chuckle and walks to the kitchen, you hot on his heels. “I’m serious!”

“Sweetheart, I barely got out of high school. Can’t tell you the last time I read a book.”

“There are different types of intelligence, Eddie. I mean, last week! All I said to you was that my car was making a growling noise and within two minutes you knew what was wrong with it. Without even having to go outside and look at it. Jesus, I don’t even know the names for half the crap under the hood. And I guess I’ll just have to lend you a book, huh?”

Eddie smiles at you. A real, open face, full of teeth smile. You take a seat at the kitchen table, unsure if your wobbling knees would be able to hold you up after seeing that grin aimed at you.

“You’re the best,” he says. A warmth tingles all over your body at his praise. “You wanna stay for dinner?”

The answer to that question depends on what time it is. When your eyes scan over to the clock hanging on the wall and see Brittany is due home in five minutes, that makes the decision for you.

“Can’t,” you say, eyes sliding back to Eddie where he’s digging through the freezer. Probably in search of something to make. But you notice that he had been watching you, seeing you look over at the clock before answering.

“Probably have a paper you need to finish,” Eddie says, giving you an out as he resumes his search.

“Uh, yeah,” you say. But you still have those precious five minutes to be alone with Eddie and you don’t want to waste them. Your mind scrambles for something to talk to him about. “Should I bring Ryan’s present over tomorrow? Or do you want me to wait until Monday?”

Eddie’s brow pinches in a frown and he closes the freezer. “Why don’t you just bring it to the party?”

“His birthday party? Oh, I didn’t realize I was invited.”

Eddie stares at you incredulously. His jaw drops open and he lets out a laugh. “Of course you are. Britt never told you that?”

“No,” you say with a shrug.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groans and rubs a hand over his hair. His tongue pokes out to lick over his lips before he speaks again. “I know she told me she invited you. Because I said I’d do it, then she said she’d handle it.”

“Maybe she forgot?” You try to give her the benefit of the doubt, but Eddie knows better. He doesn’t want to get into it with you, though. Lord knows you don’t need to hear about his marriage issues.

“Well, you are invited. And don’t worry, it’s not going to just be a bunch of little kids. We’re having a barbecue out back, around the pool. Some old friends of mine, my uncle, Britt’s sister and her family, and then a handful of Ryan’s friends. You can bring someone if you want. Your sister, friend, boyfriend, whatever.” Yeah, he was fishing for information that shouldn’t affect him either way, but here he was. Is he proud of it? No. Is he going to stop? Probably not. He knows he’s too attached to you but he’s convinced it can all be a fantasy in his head and everything will be fine. At least that’s what he tells himself.

“Yeah, I’m free Saturday,” you say. “Um, not sure if I’ll bring anyone. Probably not.” Your best friend, and roommate, knew about your feelings for Eddie, so that would just make you nervous she would accidentally spill the beans and ruin everything. There’s no way you were telling your sister about how you feel because she’d just tell you that you’re being stupid; that you’re a kid with a dumb crush. And maybe that’s true, but you didn’t need to hear it from her.

Pushing yourself up from the table, you grab your bag from the counter and slip it on your shoulder.

“See you tomorrow?” you ask.

“I’ll be here,” Eddie says, half of his mouth quirking up into a smile.

You shoot him one last smile over your shoulder before heading down the hallway to say goodbye to the kids.

Fridays are the days you only have one class, which means you get to sleep in a little longer than usual. Except for today, when the phone on your bedside table jars you out of your slumber, the piercing shrill going right through you.

“Who the hell,” you grumble to yourself as you push yourself up onto your elbows. Reaching over, your fingers graze the receiver and tug it to your ear. The anger at being awoken dissipates when you hear the telltale sign of machinery and tools clanging. Even before your favorite voice in the world answers your greeting. “Hello?”

“Hey! Oh shit, did I wake you up?” Eddie asks. You debate lying, but the hoarseness in your voice would call your bluff.

“Yeah, but it’s fine. My alarm was about to go off anyway.” That was a lie, but one he couldn’t catch you in. “What’s up? Boys okay? You okay?”

Both of you notice the lack of checking in on the last member of the family, but neither of you cares either. On his end of the phone, Eddie can’t help but grin to himself, trying to hide it from the other guys in the shop. First, your early morning voice was just about the cutest thing he’s ever heard, now your worry for him and the boys has his heart kicking up its pace.

“Yeah, everyone’s fine,” Eddie says. “Just wanted to ask a favor of you, if you don’t mind.”

“Anything.” You could slap yourself for how eagerly you said it. For all you know he’s going to ask you to spend the day with Brittany, which might actually kill you. But who are you kidding? You’d do it if he asked.

“Well,” Eddie says with a sigh. “Britt kind of dropped the ball. Again.”

It’s not a shock by any means. Squeezing your lips together, you internalize the sigh you so desperately want to let out and pinch the bridge of your nose.

“She, uh, was supposed to pick up Ryan’s cake from the bakery after work today, but apparently,” Eddie pauses here to huff a humorless chuckle, “she forgot to ever order it. Do you think you can swing by the grocery store and get some vanilla cake mix and vanilla frosting? Ryan didn’t know, thank God, so he won’t be disappointed that it’ll have to be homemade. The kids will want to help with it but by the time I get home there won't be enough time to bake it, let it cool, and frost it before they have to go to bed.”

“Oh, Eddie, of course,” you say. The boys loved baking; you know that from experience. Together you’d made countless cookies and brownies. “Do you need me to grab anything else from the store?”

“No, no, that’s all. And I’ll give you the money for it when I get home, I swear.”

“Eddie,” you say with a chuckle. “It’s fine, I can buy birthday cake ingredients for one of my two favorite little dudes.”

“Nope, you’re getting that money back,” Eddie says, and you just know there’s a smile on his face as he says it. You can practically hear it.

“I see why Luke is so stubborn,” you say as you lay back on your pillow. Maybe if you close your eyes and tug your soft purple blanket up to your chin, you can pretend you’re being a normal girl having a conversation with the guy she’s head over heels for. Not a conversation about your job with your boss, who has a wife, and is over ten years older than you. Just Eddie.

Eddie scoffs on the other end of the line, bringing a dopey grin to your face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says. “That kid is nothing like me.”

“Ha!” you bark out, making Eddie laugh, the sound like a shot of whiskey hitting your bloodstream. “Pretty sure Luke isn’t your son, he’s your clone.” Literally, the fact that the five-year-old has blue eyes is the only noticeable difference.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie concedes. “I guess I better get back to work before my boss charges me for half the phone bill.”

“Bosses, right? Such a pain in the ass.”

“Listen, you little smartass,” Eddie says through a laugh, a blushing smile making your own cheeks hurt. “I’ll quit my job right now and take yours.”

“Trade you,” you say, knowing he has to get back to work but not wanting to let him go. “I’ll fix the cars.”

“All right,” Eddie says. “Just tell me where the carburetor is located.” Wrinkling up your nose, you stay silent, only proving Eddie’s point. “Uh huh,” he says, voice sounding smug. “So, I’ll go replace the brakes on this Honda and you’ll go to class, hit the grocery store, and take care of two little monsters for a few hours, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I’m clearly the winner here.”

“You are,” Eddie agrees. “Okay sweetheart, I’ll see you later.”

The term of endearment isn’t new. He’s called you that countless times, along with a variety of other nicknames. He’s probably even said it over the phone to you before, you’re not sure. But the part that’s currently giving you the feeling of pop rocks exploding in your stomach is that anyone who can hear him on the phone at work right now probably thinks he’s talking to his wife. Or girlfriend if they don’t know he’s married. But he said it to you. Something about it makes you feel giddy.

“Bye, Eddie.”

“Bye,” Eddie drags out the word before the line goes dead.

After starting your day off by talking to Eddie, you don’t feel the need for your usual cup of coffee. You’re already wide awake. The day seems to be better than a usual Friday, an extra pep in your step that you can only think of one explanation for. Class seemed more interesting, traffic didn’t seem as bad, even finding a parking spot at the notoriously crowded grocery store was easier.

Strolling down the baking aisle to find the supplies you need, you hum along to the cheery pop tune playing over the store’s speakers. Your eyes scan over the shelves and snag on a box of vanilla cake mix. Dropping that into your basket, you search for the matching frosting. As you look at all the baking supplies in front of you, the sprinkles catch your eye. Which leads you to looking at the tubes of food gel that you can write on cakes with. Pursing your lips as you look it over, you shrug and think, what the hell? The sprinkles and food gel get added to the shopping basket. Now all you’re missing is the vanilla frosting. Which you discover was right in front of your face the whole time, making you roll your eyes at yourself as you snatch it off the shelf. Purposefully keeping the grocery bag in the backseat, and not in the trunk, your next stop is to pick up the munchkins from school.

The pickup line at the elementary school is long, but you don’t mind. It usually moves pretty quickly, and the radio station is currently playing Billy Joel. Eddie teases you all the time about your love for the singer of Piano Man, but he does at least admit that the man is talented.

Two bright faces come up to the windows of your gold car, Ryan grinning and waving, and Luke hooking his pointer fingers into his mouth and pulling them wide while sticking his tongue at you. Leaning across the center console as much as you can with your seatbelt still on, squishing up your face and sticking your tongue out in turn. Luke giggles and opens the backseat, climbing in and over the bag to sit behind you.

“What’s this?” Luke asks as Ryan climbs in behind him.

“For Ryan’s birthday,” you say, smiling at him over your shoulder. “We’re making a cake when we get home.”

They both cheer as you pull away from the curb and towards the exit off of school property.

Having baked with them before, you knew it could get crazy. Flour usually ends up all over the three of you and the floor. Eggshells seem to get in the batter no matter how much you try to avoid that. But making Ryan’s cake has them amped up to a whole new level.

“Luke, not yet!” You hold the bowl above his head so he can’t pour in the oil that’s not supposed to be added until after the eggs. Mixing a bowl that’s at eye level with you is a difficult task, you find.

“I got the pans!” Ryan holds up the two round pans that will bake the layers of his cake.

“Perfect. Can you spray them?”

“With this?” Ryan asks, holding up the non-stick spray can.

“Yes, sir,” you tell him as you set the bowl down on the counter. “Okay, Luke. Now you can add the oil.”

Once the cake is in the oven, you clean up as best you can while the boys work on their homework at the kitchen table. You’re sweeping the powdery substance off the floor when Luke asks how you spell your name. Going slowly so he can focus and write it down, you tell him.

“Why?” you ask. “What’s it for?”

“Homework,” Luke states simply.

“What’s your homework about?” you ask.

“Gotta draw and write the names of my family.”

The broom stalls in your hands at his words. Quickly, you sweep up the debris and walk to look at Luke’s paper over his shoulder. There you are. All the way to the left of the paper, right next to Eddie. It goes, you, Eddie, Luke, Ryan, and Brittany. At the bottom there’s a brown blob. You’re not sure what it is, but your mind is a little occupied with the idea that Luke considers you part of the family. The pressure of warm tears presses behind your eyes, but you refuse to let them come any further. Not sure if he’d understand your affection through words, you bend down and press a few kisses to the top of his dark brown curls.

“What’s that?” you ask, pointing to the spot at the bottom of his paper.

“My dog,” Luke says with a sigh.

“Is it invisible?” you ask, making a show of looking around the kitchen.

“No,” Luke says with his boyish giggle. His little legs swing underneath the table since they’re too short to touch the ground. “The dog I want.”

“He needs a name too, you know,” you say, tapping at the blank space where the name should go.

“She!” Luke looks up at you, frown pinching his adorable features. “I want a girl dog.”

“My apologies,” you say, bowing your head to the miniature Eddie. “She needs a name, then.”

“Nala!”

“Like The Lion King?” you ask.

“Yes!”

Once you help Luke sound out the name so he can add it to his paper, you take a look and see how Ryan’s homework is coming along.

“Look at you, whizzing through these math problems,” you say, ruffling his honey brown hair. “Little genius over here.”

He gives you a bashful smile and goes back to his work. The boys finish up just as the timer tells you that the cakes are done. Carefully removing them with the ugliest blue and brown checkered oven mitts you’ve ever seen, you place both round pans on top of the stove and turn off the oven.

“Now the icing?” Luke asks.

“Not yet,” you say, slipping off the mitts. “They have to cool first. But do you wanna see what I bought to decorate them?”

Both little boys kneel on the chairs, laying the top half of their bodies on the table so they can watch you unpack the grocery bag. Luke’s eyes widen when he sees the can of frosting and you’re pretty sure there’s some drool forming in the corner of his mouth. The sprinkles make Ryan happy, his face lighting up and grabbing the jar.

“So many colors,” he says as he turns the jar around, tilting the sprinkles so he can watch them slide from side to side. The last thing you unpack is the writing gel and neither kid seems to care.

“What is it?” Luke asks.

“You use it to write on the cake,” you say, flipping the box over and showing them the picture on the back. “We can write ‘Happy Birthday, Ryan!’ on it.”

“We can write anything?” There’s a mischievous glint in Luke’s eye that has you raising an eyebrow on him.

“What is it that you want to write?” you ask.

“Butt,” Luke says, a throaty and immature laugh coming out of him.

“No,” you say. “Maybe you can convince Daddy to let you write than when it’s your birthday cake.”

“That’s so far away!” Luke says, flopping back in his chair dramatically.

“Are you coming to my party?” Ryan asks as he slides out of his seat.

“Sure am, buddy.” You pat the top of your head as he walks by you to get a drink from the fridge. “You excited?”

“Eh,” Ryan says with a shrug of his small shoulders.

“Eh? Why eh?” you ask, frowning at him.

“My cousins are gonna be there,” Ryan answers before taking a sip of water. “They’re mean.”

“Just Sasha,” Luke says to his brother. “Nat and Dmitri are nice.”

“I guess,” Ryan says.

“Are these Mom’s sister’s kids?” you ask, taking a seat at the table.

“Yeah,” Ryan says. He walks over and leans against you, so you wrap your arm around him and press a kiss to his forehead.

“But there’s gonna be lots of other people there,” you tell him. “It’s going to be so much fun!”

A small smile comes to Ryan’s face, and he nods his head. You’d personally keep this Sasha away from Ryan if you had to. He deserves to have fun at his birthday party, not worry about what some mean kid might say.

“Okay,” you say, patting Ryan’s arm. “Who wants to play Hungry Hungry Hippos while we wait for the cake to cool?”

Of course they did, so that’s what you spend the next hour doing. The first time, you let them win. But after that, they were beating you just on their own pure speed. It looked like Luke was going to crack the back of the orange hippo.

Standing up once another round has finished, you walk over to the cake to see if it’s still too warm. It’s down to room temperature so you help the boys clean up the game before setting the decorating items on the kitchen table.

There’s a stereo just on the other side of the wall of the kitchen, in the living room. Decorating calls for some music, you decide, so you open your purse and find the mixed tape that your friend made for you. Usually, mixed tapes are just that: a mixture. But this one was made up of only Billy Joel songs; your favorites all on one convenient tape. First making sure that the thin glossy material of the tape is all on the left side, showing it’s been rewound, you click the tape into place and press play. The opening notes play as you make your way back into the kitchen.

What's the matter with the clothes I'm wearing?

Can't you tell that your tie's too wide?

Maybe I should buy some old tab collars?

Welcome back to the age of jive

Luke starts to dance in the middle of the kitchen, mostly consisting of head bobs and moving his shoulders back and forth, but it’s still cute. Keeping one eye on his theatrics, you bring the cakes over to the kitchen table and set each on a plate. The pop topped from the frosting, the gel tubes out of their box, and sprinkle jar ready to rock and roll, you put two plastic knives on the table for the boys to use.

You're just scooping a large dollop on the top of each cake when the front doorknob jingles and all three of your heads turn in that direction. Eddie steps inside and tosses his keys down. He takes a step towards your direction but halts mid step as he sees the three of you looking at him.

“Hi?”

Luke slides down from his seat and runs to his dad, Eddie scooping him up effortlessly under his armpits and holding the little boy against his chest.

“Daddyyyy!” he roars.

“Luuuuuke,” Eddie answers, deepening his voice to match the one Luke tried to use. Eddie’s head turns towards the stereo and then he looks at you, eyes narrowed and a smirk on his lips. “You’re subjecting my children to Billy Joel now?”

“They deserve to hear what good music sounds like,” you answer with your own smirk. Truthfully, you love the music that Eddie listens to, it’s just fun to mess with him.

“Daddy, do you wanna help decorate?” Ryan asks, eyes wide with hope. Eddie could never say no to that face.

“Sure thing, buddy,” Eddie says as he sets Luke down. “Just let me get cleaned up and changed.”

As he heads down the hall, Luke climbs back onto his chair and starts to smooth the white icing around on the yellow cake.

“More,” Luke says.

“I don’t think so,” you say, eyeing the cake in front of him. “That’s plenty. Just move it around more.”

He lets out a huff, sounding just like his father.

“This good?” Ryan asks. His cake is completely covered on the top, now just the sides need to be done.

“Good job,” you tell him.

Eddie comes back into the kitchen, a pair of sweatpants hung low on his hips and a gray t-shirt, arm tattoos on full display for you to enjoy. There’s nothing inherently sexy about the clothes but seeing them on Eddie is making you feel hot all over. He takes a seat at the table, next to Ryan, and looks over the sprinkles and colored gel.

“You didn’t have to get all this,” Eddie says to you, but you just wave him off.

“I knew he’d like it and I was right.”

“Okay, seriously, how much do I owe you?” Eddie asks.

“Nothing,” you say with a laugh. “Keep your money and ice your son’s birthday cake.”

Eddie smirks and gives you a mocking salute before picking up a knife to help Ryan cover the sides. Once both cakes are sufficiently coated, Eddie stacks them, and you touch up any frosting that got messed up.

The song on the stereo changes to Just the Way You Are and the slow melody has Luke closing his eyes and swaying in his seat, making you chuckle. Ryan picks up the sprinkles and makes them rain down, colored speckles brightening up the plain white dessert.

Don't go trying some new fashion

Don't change the color of your hair, mmm

You always have my unspoken passion

Although I might not seem to care

Little fingers grab your hand and pull. Turning towards Luke, you see him trying to pull you over to the middle of the kitchen.

“What?” you ask as you get up and go where he leads you. Once he gets you where he wants you, he keeps a hold of your hand in his and wraps his other arm around the back of your thighs, since it’s the only part of you he can really reach. He starts to sway back and forth, and it dawns on you that he’s trying to slow dance with you. The adoring grin on your face as you look down at the little boy has your cheeks hurting for the second time today. His big blue eyes return your gaze, his own smile just about the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. Luke quickly tires of the slowness, letting go of you and drifting back to the table to try his own hand at the sprinkles.

“Hey!” you say, jutting your lower lip out at Luke for abandoning you on the dance floor.

Ryan’s pouting next to him, where he’s still trying to get sprinkles to stick to the side of the cake.

“You can’t just leave her there!” Ryan says to his little brother. He looks down at his sticky little hands and then back to you. His mind must deduce that he can’t dance with you like this. Plus, he’s still working. “Daddy, you dance with her.”

Eddie’s eyes widen for a second as he looks at Ryan, but the look is quickly gone, replaced by that damn smile that drives you crazy. The man rises from his seat and takes a few steps over to you and you feel like your heart might actually explode. Is he really going to dance with you? This has to be a dream.

Eddie extends his hand to you, which you don’t hesitate to take. He pulls you to him, causing you to giggle and a flush to move up your cheeks. One strong arm wraps around your waist and you think that this just might be the best moment of your life. His other hand, rough and calloused from years of manual labor, holds your smaller, softer hand. When you drape your other arm over his shoulder, hand so close yet so far from the curls at the base of his neck that you always want to play with, Eddie starts to sway back and forth with you. Feeling his body pressed against yours, arm wrapped around your body, hand holding yours, you begin to feel lightheaded. It’s because your breathing has sped up, you realize, and you have to manually take control of your lungs, telling them to inhale longer and exhale fully.

A surprised giggle leaves your lips as Eddie lets go of your waist and twirls you around by your hand. He’s smiling when you turn back around to face him, his eyes bright and shining.

I said I love you, that's forever

And this I promise from the heart, mmm

I couldn't love you any better

I love you just the way you are, right

The emotion of the lyrics as Eddie pulls your body back against his has you feeling like you’re underwater. Everything is in slow motion and sounds are garbled, but it’s perfect. You’re sure your skin is on fire and you’re not sure how Eddie isn’t scalding his hands on you.

Eddie looks down at you as you dance, his dark brown eyes locked on yours, never looking away. Normally, you’d shrink from anyone looking at you this intently, but it’s Eddie. It feels flattering and warm and intimate in a way that you don’t know how to describe. There’s nothing wrong with what you’re doing. First you danced with Luke, then his dad, at Ryan’s insistence. It’s completely innocent.

As the song comes to a close, Eddie dips you, grip tightening on you as you squeal at the surprise. He chuckles and pulls you back up to your feet. When he takes his hands off you, you feel suddenly cold. Like something is missing. Eddie bends at the waist, bowing to you, so you give him a curtsy in return.

“That’s how you dance with a lady,” Eddie says, giving a playful, barely-there smack on the back of Luke’s head. “Gonna have to teach you to be a gentleman, I see.”

Luke ignores him, finishing up his sprinkle job, but you think there are more sprinkles on Luke than the cake. Ryan hands you a red tube of writing gel, and Eddie a yellow. He has the green one gripped in his small hand.

“Okay, I want you to write ‘Happy,’” Ryan tells his dad before turning to you. “And I want you to write ‘Birthday.’ I’m gonna write my name.”

Following his instructions, Eddie goes first. He takes his time, tongue poking out in concentration as the yellow gel slips out, curling into the letters weaved by Eddie’s hands in the air. When it’s your turn, you realize you have the longest word to write. As you’re halfway through, the song changes to Uptown Girl and a smile ticks onto your face.

“My favorite,” you say as you curl the H in birthday. It comes out looking pretty good if you do say so yourself. Ryan takes his time with his name as well. Glancing over to Eddie, you see he’s staring off into space, zoned out, mind far away.

Uptown girl

You know I can't afford to buy her pearls

But maybe someday when my ship comes in

She'll understand what kind of guy I've been

And then I'll win

The beginnings of a smile twitch at one corner of Eddie’s mouth and you’d give anything to know what he’s thinking about so intently.

“Done!” Ryan announces, breaking Eddie from his trance.

“It looks great, buddy,” Eddie says, patting his oldest son on the back. “Let’s put it in the fridge now.”

Ryan nods and Eddie’s careful in carrying the plate. You open the refrigerator door for him, and he slides it on the top shelf.

“There we go,” Eddie says as you close the fridge. He looks over and sees Luke covered in frosting, sprinkles, and somehow the gel, even though he didn’t touch it. “Luke, you need to go take a bath.”

The boy pouts but slides off the chair and walks down the hallway.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Luke!” you call before he can get into the bathroom.

“Okay! Bye!” he calls back.

“Come on, Ry,” Eddie says. “Help me clean up.” Eddie grabs the sponge and groans, shooting you a playful glance. “Can't believe you made a mixtape of just Billy Joel.”

“I didn’t make it,” you say, grabbing the kitchen towel and swatting Eddie with it. “My friend Paul made it for me.”

“Oh?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow. Ryan takes the can of icing off the table along with the gel tubes, and Eddie runs the sponge over the green tiled table. “Paul, huh? You know, guys usually make mixtapes for girls they like.”

“Mm,” you hum, cheeks warming. “Love songs, I believe. And Paul’s majoring in music so he makes tapes for everyone.”

Eddie’s tempted to tell you that you should have Paul introduce you to new music, but he can’t bring himself to suggest you spend time with another guy. A college guy, especially, your own age and who you probably hang out with. His grip tightens on the sponge, the water and suds squishing between his fingers.

“Making a mess, Dad,” Ryan says with a giggle, poking at a bubble one of the suds produces.

“Go wash up with your brother, okay?” Eddie says. Ryan stops in front of you and holds his arms out for a hug, which you eagerly return.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I can't wait.”

Ryan grins up at you when you release him from your arms. “Me neither! Bye.”

“Bye, sweetie,” you say, giving him a wave as he heads down the hallway. Towel still in your hands, you wipe down the table with it as Eddie puts the sponge back in the sink. The next Billy Joel tune is on and you’re humming it to yourself before you start to sing along.

Who knows how much further we'll go on

Maybe I'll be sorry when you're gone

I'll take my chances

I forgot how nice romance is

I haven't been there for the longest time

There’s a smile on your face as you sing the words, the lyrics bringing Eddie to mind. Not that he isn’t always on your mind.

“Sing those lyrics to Paul?” Eddie asks.

With a frown, you turn to face him. “No. Paul and I aren’t anything. Why?”

“You had a lovesick expression on your face,” Eddie says, his voice a little harder than usual. Did you really have your emotions playing across your face like that?

“Oh, Eddie,” you say with an over dramatic sigh. “It’s just because I love Billy Joel so much.”

Eddie flicks a few water droplets at you, and you giggle when they hit your face.

“God, I’m gonna puke,” Eddie says, trying, and failing, to conceal a playful smile.

“What?” you ask, giving him wide innocent eyes. “You don’t like Billy Joel? Huh, well that’s okay, Eddie.” You walk over to your purse and start to rifle through it, Eddie’s eyes tracking your every movement. “Here, maybe this will be better.” New cassette clutched in your hand, you go over to the stereo and stop the Billy Joel tape.

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow as he waits for you to switch to whatever God awful – he can only assume – music you’re going to put on. The new tape snaps back into the stereo and you’re strolling back in the kitchen to drop the Billy Joel tape back in your bag as the opening notes on this particular tape start.

“No,” Eddie says, eyes narrowing at you when he starts to recognize the song. You pay no mind to him as you zip your purse back up, singing along with the lyrics as they start.

Life is a mystery

Everyone must stand alone

I hear you call my name

And it feels like home

“You’re honestly subjecting me to Madonna?” Eddie’s eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his skull. Ignoring his words this time, you keep singing along and twirl until you’re standing right in front of Eddie. Looking up at him with a mischievous smile, you grab his hands in yours and try to get him to dance along. He refuses, but you just keep standing there in front of him, moving your hips back and forth as you keep singing.

When you call my name, it's like a little prayer

I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there

Eddie’s breath catches in his chest. The image the lyrics evoke in his mind is not something he should be thinking about – let alone with you right in front of him.

I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there

The line keeps repeating in his head on a loop accompanied by the image of you on your knees in front of him. Looking up from below him, your beautiful eyes wide and your lips pouted. Fuck. Why did he decide to put sweatpants on? Shit, he needs to get out of the kitchen before you can see his boner.

“Uh, those two have been in the bathroom a dangerously long time,” Eddie says. Mercifully, you stop moving your perfectly sculpted hips when he speaks, giving Eddie a moment to compose himself a bit more. “Better go make sure they’re all washed up before I start dinner.”

“Okay,” you say, taking a few steps back from him to go collect your tape from the stereo. You pop it back in your purse and slide the bag onto your shoulders.

“See you tomorrow?” Eddie asks, turning his body towards the hall to better hide himself. “Party’s at one.”

“I can come by early and help set up?”

Even when desperately trying to usher you out of the house, he’s anxious to get you to come back as soon as possible. “Sure. Twelve? Little after?”

“I’ll be here,” you tell him, giving him a smile that’s not doing any favors for the hard on in his pants.

He gives you a smile in return, along with a wave before he heads down the hall to the bathroom where the critters are probably making a mess.

As if picking out a bathing suit to wear for any other occasion wasn’t frustrating enough, now you have to pick one that Eddie would see you in. Impossible as it was, you managed to pick one. It’s a one-piece dark green suit with cut outs along the sides, exposing the sides of your ribs. It became the winning suit mostly because of how well it holds your boobs up, though. The girls are on display, but not about to fall out of your suit. A pair of denim shorts and a faded white t-shirt are your choices to throw on top of it. You scoop up Ryan’s gift and head out the door.

When you park your car in front of the Munson residence you can tell the backyard is being set up. Luke’s loud voice sounds from around the house, chattering away to who you can only assume is Eddie. The sound of patio chairs scraping against the pool deck drowns out the little boy’s voice, but you hear Eddie hum in agreement with something he said. Just that little sound from Eddie has an involuntary smile spreading on your face and you head to the side of the house where the gate to the backyard is located.

“Luke, can you move that chair over? The one by the grill.”

Eddie catches sight of you as you come around the corner of the house. His face lights up and it almost causes you to trip over your own sandals. When he goes to open his mouth to say hello, you hold your finger up to your lips, eyes darting towards Luke and back again. Eddie nods, a smirk playing over his lips. Slowly so as not to make a sound, you put Ryan’s gift down on the table closest to you and kick off your shoes. Luke’s back is still turned as you tiptoe closer to him. Striking, you reach out and snatch the small boy in your arms, hugging him to your chest. Squeals escape his tiny frame as he wriggles in your arms, and you press kisses to his cheek.

“Got you!” you call over his laughter.

Eddie’s chuckling as he watches the two of you, untangling a string at the end of a “Happy Birthday” banner.

“You scared me!” Luke says.

“That was the point,” you say as you tickle his sides. He wiggles his way out of your grip and gives you a playful push. You pretend to stumble back, as if his strength was just too much for you. The triumphant look on his face melts your heart and you just want to snatch him up again. But before you can, Eddie’s voice calls for you.

“What’s up?” you ask, strolling over to the man.

“This ladder is kind of wobbly, can you hold it for me while I hang up the sign?” he asks.

“I can do it,” you say, holding your hand out for the banner.

“You sure?” Eddie asks, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you say. “I trust you holding the ladder more than I do me.”

“If you insist.” He hands over the sign and you climb a few rungs up the ladder. Eddie’s hands hold the ladder on either side of your body, and he feels his cheeks flush when your ass is right at his eye level. Giving himself just a moment to enjoy the view, he decides not to be a perv and look up to where you’re securing the banner above the back door.

“How’s it look?” you ask.

Your ass? Perfect, he thinks to himself.

“Uh, looks good,” Eddie says. You climb down and are boxed in by the older man’s arms as he still holds on to the ladder. His lips quirk to the side as your eyes meet his. “Looks, um, really good.”

Eddie bites his bottom lip, only breaking his trance when the back door opens, and he instinctively wraps his arm around you to tug you out of its way. The door bangs against the ladder and Ryan winces as he steps outside. He’s about to apologize when his eyes take in you standing there. The fear in Eddie screams that Ryan’s eyes went wide because his arm is around you, so he quickly drops it. But really, Ryan is just excited to see you. He runs over and throws his arms around your middle, burying his face in your stomach.

“Hey, you! Happy birthday, Ryan.”

“Thank you!” Ryan pulls back, giving you a grin.

Eddie folds the ladder in and picks it up, your eyes immediately drawn to his muscles flexing in his Iron Maiden tee that he probably cut the sleeves off of himself.

“Luke!” Brittany shouts from inside and it seems like all four of you in the backyard tense at the sound. Her footsteps are quickly approaching the back door and Luke groans, shuffling himself closer to you and Ryan. The door hinges squeak and Ryan’s grip tightens around you.

“There you are,” Brittany says, eyes locking on her youngest son. Her eyes glance briefly over to you, then back to Luke. “Hi.”

It takes a moment before you realize she was talking to you. “Uh, hi, Brittany.”

“Luke, come inside and help me. Eddie, you need to get the towels out of the linen closet.”

“Okay,” Eddie says. He ruffles Luke’s hair and prods him along to follow his mom inside.

“Need me to do anything out here?” you ask.

“Uh…” Eddie slips his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and looks around the patio. “Not gonna light the grill til people start getting here. Chairs and tables are all set up. Oh!” He snaps his fingers and walks over to pull a box off of one of the deck chairs. “Can you put the birthday tablecloths on the tables?”

“Of course.” Bending down, you press a kiss to the top of Ryan’s head. “I put your present right over there. Wanna take it inside?”

“Yes!”

For the next forty-five minutes you help the Munson’s around the house, setting up decorations, putting the snacks into bowls, and trying to keep Luke from shaking Ryan’s gifts around to try and figure out what’s inside. You're pulling the burgers and hotdogs out of the fridge in preparation for Eddie to grill when the man in question walks into the kitchen, Iron Maiden shirt still on, but his jeans exchanged for a pair of silver swim trunks.

“Where are the boys?” he asks.

“Getting changed into their bathing suits,” you say as you knock the fridge closed with your hip.

The doorbell rings and Eddie heaves a sigh. “And so it begins.” He heads out to answer it and comes back in with an older man whom you recognize from photographs. Still, Eddie introduces the two of you.

“This old geezer is my Uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, playful smirk set on his pretty lips.

“Ah, you must be the young lady the boys are always talking about.”

Wayne offers his hand which you shake with a polite smile on your face. Eddie hopes neither of you notice the pink tinge over his cheekbones because he knows he’s guilty of talking about you more than he probably should.

“I guess that’s me,” you say.

“Grandpa!” Luke runs in and launches himself at the older man. Wayne laughs and catches the young boy, swinging him up into his arms.

“There’s my troublemaker,” Wayne says.

“Fitting nickname,” you say with a giggle and Luke sticks his tongue out at you.

“Tongue to yourself,” Eddie says, tugging on one of Luke’s curls.

Over the next hour you’re introduced to so many people that you sincerely hope no one expects you to remember them all. There’s Brittany’s sister Sandy and her three children (that you can already tell are a handful), Eddie’s friend Dustin that you’ve heard so much about, and you definitely remember Steve Harrington—because he’s so handsome.

“Hi,” you say, offering Steve your hand to shake. His wife Nancy and their four kids have already come in and gone out to the backyard, but Steve was lagging behind since he was getting the presents out of the car.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Steve says, shooting you a smile. Maybe it’s his old high school insecurities kicking in, but Eddie quickly claps Steve on the back and sends him out by the pool.

But your favorite people you think you’ve today are also old friends of Eddie’s from high school. They came into the house bickering, but somehow it was in an adoring way that let you know it was them showing affection for one another. The man was tall, taller than both Eddie and Steve, and had an infectious smile. His wife had her fiery red hair up in a high ponytail and their baby in her arms.

“This is Lucas, Max, and little baby Tiffany,” Eddie tells you. Tiffany looks up at you with wide dark eyes, a gleeful expression on her chubby little face.

“Oh, she’s precious,” you coo, smiling at the happy little girl. “How old is she?”

“Eight months,” Lucas says, looking adoringly at his daughter.

You end up sitting with the little family outside by the pool, on a deck chair next to Max while she holds the giggling baby in her lap. Ryan is happy, splashing away in the pool with his friends. It warms your heart to see the normally quiet boy laughing so loudly and having the time of his life. Eddie’s at the grill, flipping hamburgers and surrounded by Dustin, Steve, and Lucas. You’ve never seen Eddie with his friends before. He’s relaxed, spatula in his hand, and an easy smile on his face. They’re all laughing at something Dustin said and it brings joy to your face.

“Oh, shit,” Max says from next to you, drawing your attention away from Eddie.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, turning to face her.

“I left her favorite pacifier in the car,” she answers with a sigh.

“Do you want me to go get it?” you offer.

“I’m not sure where it is in there.” Max stands, holding Tiffany on her hip. “Would you mind holding her while I go check?”

“Not at all,” you say, a smile on your face as the little girl beams at you. Max hands her over and her tiny fingers go right up to your mouth, making you giggle.

“I should be back in five minutes. But Lucas is over there if you need him.”

“Oh, we’ll be fine,” you assure her, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s my job.”

Max gives you a smile before heading back into the house.

“Well, hello, Miss Tiffany,” you say, holding her on your hip. She babbles in the language of babies, and you tilt your head. “I know. I agree.”

Eddie looks up from the grill to say something to Steve, but over his friend’s shoulder he catches sight of you holding Tiffany. It feels like his heart is going to liquify and melt right out of his chest. He’s always wanted a baby girl. But he also did not want to have any more children with Brittany. But seeing you, the girl he has a completely inappropriate crush on, holding a baby girl? Smoke is going to start coming out of his ears, joining that from the grill.

“Uh, Steve, watch the grill for me? Just gotta ask what some people want to eat.” Eddie’s not even really looking at Steve as he shoves the spatula in his hand, moving past his group of friends and walking over to you. As he gets closer, he can hear you talking to Tiffany in that squeaky voice all adults seem to talk to young children in. The baby is giggling and waving her little hands around and it makes Eddie smile.

“Well, seems like you made a new friend,” Eddie says, coming to stand beside you so he can admire the girl as well.

“And she’s just the sweetest little thing,” you say, still in the baby talk voice. Tiffany starts to fuss a little in your arms, but you’re quick to readjust her position and hike her up a little higher on your hip. It seems to have done the trick because she rests her head on your chest and looks up at Eddie with her large dark eyes.

“Hey there, Tiffany,” Eddie says. She blinks at him, dark eyelashes kissing her cheek.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” you ask.

“Absolutely,” Eddie says, eyes glancing at you.

“I want one,” you say, only half joking. As if Eddie couldn’t want you any more than he already did, you had to go and say that. He can’t help it, he leans in and brushes a soft touch over Tiffany’s thin brown hair on the top of her head, Eddie’s head practically resting on your shoulder as he does it. He wants this so bad it hurts. His heart is in a vice grip and every day the handle seems to turn it even tighter.

It’s affecting you as well. You’ve always wanted kids and loved being around them. It’s why you became a babysitter to begin with. But holding this sweet little girl with Eddie standing so close to you? You can’t help it, you close your eyes and let the fantasy take hold that this is your and Eddie’s baby in your arms. The warmth of his body is radiating over to you and the baby lays gently against your breast. The boys are having fun in the pool, and this is your little family.

“Got it.” Max’s voice breaks you out of your illusion. She’s brandishing a green pacifier in the air as if it’s a trophy, the prize she’s been searching for. As soon as Tiffany catches sight of the pacifier, it gains all of her attention. She makes grabby hands for it and Max is quick to pop it into her mouth.

“Thank you so much,” Max says as she takes the baby from your arms.

“Not a problem. She was a little angel,” you tell her.

“She gets that from me.” Max smirks at Eddie, as if she’s expecting his bark of laughter even before he does it.

“Uh huh,” Eddie says. “Check that red hair again, I’m sure you’ll find some horns growing beneath it.”

“I’d flip you off if my child wasn’t in my arms,” Max says.

“Then thank you, Tiffany,” Eddie says, leaning in towards the baby. She reaches out and tugs on one of Eddie’s curls.

“See? She said that’s what you get for talking like that about her mom,” Max says.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says. “What do you want to eat?” He then asks you and pats your shoulder before walking back over to the grill.

The kids aren’t thrilled when they have to come out of the water to eat, because they know they’ll have to wait for a half hour afterwards before they can go back in. But Eddie had been prepared for that level of boredom from these rambunctious rugrats and had a few games set up for them on the back lawn. It wasn’t much, but the kids seemed to enjoy playing with the bean bag toss and the horseshoes.

Once the half hour is up, you’re ambushed by Ryan who insists you come in the pool. Trying to tell him that you don’t want to seems futile since he has the double advantage of having those adorable puppy dog eyes and the fact that it’s his birthday on his side. He cheers when you agree, and the sound draws the attention of his father who had been talking with Wayne. But his gaze has been captured elsewhere when he sees you strip your white shirt over your head, revealing the green swimsuit beneath. When you bend over to take off your denim shorts, Eddie loses all coherent thought in his head. You turn to face Ryan fully, which also has you facing Eddie head on. His eyes take in every inch of you. From the way the bathing suit lifts your already impressive breasts, how the cutouts on the side of the suit tease him with glimpses of your soft, smooth skin, to the way the material hugs your hips just right and your long legs are left bare. They look so inviting and the only thought that goes through Eddie’s mind is that he wants to mark them up. Make that soft skin turn purple and red under his adoring mouth.

You follow Ryan into the pool, taking one step at a time. The deeper you get, the colder it gets, so your muscles tense as you wade into your waist. Eddie chuckles as he sees you gritting your teeth, your shoulders pulled up to your ears, and your arms held just above the water, but not touching.

Luke swims over and throws himself at you, making you squeal as the water from his body and the splash send goosebumps down your skin.

“S’cold,” you say to Luke who only giggles in return. You wrap your arms around his small waist as he clings to you, arms coming up to encircle your neck.

“Throw me?” Luke asks.

“Yeah?” you ask, and he nods his head wildly, wet curls bouncing and shaking water everywhere.

Moving your hands to the sides of his tummy, you bend your knees to coil your energy up before tossing the five-year-old into the deep end of the pool. He makes a splash, showering some of the other kids in the pool–who you were careful to avoid when throwing him. Luke pops back up, laughing as he shakes the water from his head like a dog coming out of the bath.

“Not far enough!” he shouts as he swims back over to you.

“Well, sor-ry,” you say, wrinkling up your nose at him.

“Daddy throws me farther,” Luke says.

“Well, your daddy is stronger than I am.”

“Daaaaaaddy!”

You wince at Luke’s volume, him taking full advantage of not having to use his inside voice.

“Luuuuke,” Eddie replies, strolling over to the edge of the pool, hands on his hips.

“Can you come throw me?” Luke asks, treading water. He has to squint his blue eyes in the sunlight to see his father semi clearly.

“Didn’t I just see you flying in the air?” Eddie asks, gesturing towards the deep end of the pool.

“Apparently, I’m not strong enough to throw him as far as he wants to go,” you say, tilting your head as you look up at Eddie, attempting not to ogle him.

“This kid and his high standards,” Eddie says with a sigh. He reaches down, whips his shirt off, and all attempts not to blatantly stare become futile. The muscles rippling in his lithe frame as he tosses the shirt back onto an empty chair have you biting your lip to keep in an inappropriate noise.

Eddie steps forward, letting himself just drop into the pool with an effortless grace. It causes a large splash that smacks both you and Luke in the face but judging by the smirk on his face when he resurfaces, Eddie did it on purpose. “All right, come here you little hobbit.”

You watch Eddie grab his son and place his hands under Luke’s armpits. The excitement is clear on Luke’s face and it’s contagious, bringing an adoring smile to your lips as you watch the father and son. Eddie double checks to make sure there’s a clear path to throw Luke, then tosses him towards the deep end, the little boy grinning the whole time he’s in the air. Luke was right–his dad throws him farther. Ryan swims over, wanting a turn as well, which leads to most of the kids in the pool wanting to be thrown in the air. Eddie obliges, but you can tell that his muscles are getting tired as the children start to fly less and less farther into the deep end.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie eventually says, his breath labored from all the activity. “That’s enough for now.” He dips under the water to cool down and when he comes back up, you swear he moves in slow motion like some cheesy movie moment; the beads of water dropping down his skin, his hair shaking out around him, curls weighed down from the water. It’s enough to make you go feral.

“Hmm,” Eddie hums, eyes narrowing as he looks at you. There’s a mischievous look on his face and it makes you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Yes?” you ask.

“I think I have enough strength to throw one more person,” he says, sly smirk painting his features.

“No,” you say with a laugh, shaking your head as you try to swim away from him. But he’s too fast. Too fast and too strong as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls your body back against his. The bare back of your shoulders is pressed up against his naked chest and the goosebumps that dot your skin are certainly from that and not the cool temperature of the air now that you’ve been in the water so long. Eddie spins you around so you’re face to face with him, and the ferocity of the turn has you reaching out to place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. You’re practically nose to nose with him, so you decide to take advantage of the moment and take him in. The darkness of his beautiful eyes. The smattering of freckles that dust the bridge of his hose and up his cheekbones. How plush and pink his lips are, even if they’re slightly chapped. Your eyes follow a droplet of water as it runs over his pretty mouth, down his strong chin, then plops back into the pool.

“Ready?” he asks, voice low. Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you silently thank God you’re in a pool that will keep anyone from seeing how your thighs clench together. If he kept talking to you like that, you’d do anything he asked of you.

“Yes,” you breathe out, as if it’s the only answer you could give him. His grip around your waist tightens, fingers against your bare skin showing through the suit’s cutouts, and you can feel his muscles flexing under your hands that still rest on his shoulders. There’s a small twitch of Eddie’s lips before he’s throwing you, sending you backwards into the water. Holding your breath as you go under, your skin still tingling where his hands had been on you. Body floating back up to the surface, you let out a huff of air once you break the surface. Laughter bubbles out of you as you wipe your eyes, whipping your hair out of your face.

Ryan’s cake is next, and the expression of pure joy on his face has you feeling the pressure of tears behind your eyes. All of the little dancing flames extinguish with just one breath from the newly crowned seven-year-old. Luke is eager for a slice of the cake, not only because he was dying from lack of frosting earlier in the week, but because he was part of the labor that put this confection together.

As the party winds to an end, you’re thoroughly tired, but it’s only fair that you help clean up since you helped set up. In your mind, anyway. Eddie disagrees, practically trying to take empty plates and dirty forks out of your hands when you try to clear the tables. Most of the guests are gone when Sandy, Brittany’s sister, grabs her keys and rounds up her three kids.

“Oh,” Brittany says, coming into the kitchen where you and Eddie are. She grabs her purse off the counter and slides it onto her shoulder. You’re not sure when she changed from the small string bikini she had on before, but she’s now wearing jeans and a nice blouse. “Sandy and I are heading to the store. I’ll be back.” Then she’s out the door. No further explanation. No asking if he needed her to pick up anything. Just leaving him with the remnants of a child’s birthday party, all the burdens falling on him. Or they would have, had you not been there. You would never leave him on his own like this. Your nails dig into your palms, and you drop your hands behind your back so Eddie can’t see. He doesn’t seem all that surprised, though. His eyes stay on the door for a few moments before he sighs and brings his attention back to wrapping up the leftover burgers.

“You okay?” you ask in a small voice. Anger and empathy battle each other in your head, one for the bitch who walked out the door, one for the beautiful man standing in front of you.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, putting the burgers in the fridge. “Surprised she didn’t dip out earlier, to be honest.”

Unsure of what to say, your hands twitch by your sides for a moment before you’re striding forward and wrapping your arms around his middle, laying your head against his shoulder. Eddie hesitates for half a second before his arms come up to encircle your waist, his head resting on top of yours. Neither of you says anything, just stand there in the quiet kitchen, holding onto one another. In both of your heads there’s a little voice telling you that this hug has gone on for too long for it to be considered appropriate between boss and employee, but neither of you care. You’re only jostled apart as you hear the backdoor open on its squeaky hinges. Reluctantly, you let go of one another and don’t meet each other’s eyes as Wayne comes into the kitchen with Luke, both of them bringing in trash from the backyard. As Luke steps towards the sink with the half-filled cup of fruit punch he’s holding, he trips over his own feet and the red liquid goes flying, landing right on the front of your white shirt. The cold drink makes you gasp as it soaks through the chest and stomach. Luke’s eyes immediately widen, tears welling up in them and you forget all about the bite of the wetness.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you say, crouching down and rubbing up and down his arms. “Aw, don’t cry, sweetie. It was an accident.”

“I’m sorry,” Luke says, a few tears spilling over the brim. You wipe them away and shake your head.

“It’s okay,” you say. “I promise.” Luke nods and you help him throw away the rest of the garbage he brought in.

“Luke, why don’t you clean up the floor while I get her a shirt to change into?” Eddie asks. Luke nods his head, letting out one more sniffle before he stands on his tiptoes to get the paper towels off of the counter.

Wayne pats your shoulder, and you give him a smile. “You’re real good with them.”

“Thanks,” you say. “They’re the best.”

“I have to agree,” he says with a gruff chuckle before ushering Luke back outside so they can bring in anything that was left out there.

“Here,” Eddie says as he comes back into the kitchen. He offers you a white raglan shirt with black sleeves. You hold it up in front of you and see the emblem of a red devil’s head, fire and other accessories surrounding the face.

“What’s Hellfire?” you ask.

“Name of the D&D club in high school.”

“Oh right,” you say. “I remember you telling me about that. It’s where you met Dustin, right?”

“Yeah, he was–.” Eddie trips over his own words as you slip your soiled shirt over your head. Yes, you’re wearing your bathing suit underneath still, so you thought nothing of it. But Eddie wasn’t expecting it and all activity moves from his brain down to his crotch. How is supposed to keep composed when you just whipped your shirt off like it was nothing right in front of him, the support of your bathing suit basically forcing your breasts into his view? He feels himself twitch in his swim shorts and clears his throat before continuing. “Dustin, uh, was a freshman, yeah.” He originally had more to say, but nothing else comes out.

As hot as it was when you took your shirt off, Eddie seeing you in a Hellfire shirt, his Hellfire shirt, it makes his brain short-circuit even further. He’s saved from embarrassing himself by stuttering in front of you by Wayne coming back in, throwing out another handful of trash.

“I’m gonna go see if the boys need help,” you say, shooting both men a smile before heading out to the backyard.

As soon as they hear the door close behind you, Wayne rests a heavy hand on Eddie’s shoulder. His uncle sighs and Eddie turns his head to look at him.

“She’s a real sweetheart, that babysitter of yours,” Wayne says.

“She is,” Eddie agrees.

“Pretty, too.”

There’s the slightest arch of Wayne’s eyebrow and Eddie opens his mouth, no sound coming out. He stumbles under the knowing gaze of the man who knows him better than anyone else in the world. Eddie finally manages to nod his head. His tongue pokes out to lick over his lips before he speaks.

“Yeah, she is.”

Once the house is back in order and the boys are tucked into their beds, both you and Eddie crash on the couch. Brittany still hasn’t come back yet to the surprise of neither of you. But if Eddie was completely honest with himself, he’d rather his wife stay out and have you stay here with him.

“Today was fun,” you say, letting your head drop to the back of the couch.

“It was,” he agrees. “More than I thought it would be. But also, way more exhausting.”

“You should get some sleep,” you murmur, shifting yourself so you can head out. But Eddie has other plans, nodding and resting his head on your shoulder. There’s a spike in your heartrate as his hair tickles the side of your neck. Your stomach is full of butterflies and they’re bumping into one another as they fly around. Eddie stays that way until you hear Brittany’s car in the driveway and jostle him awake.

“Eddie,” you say softly, not wanting to scare him.

“Hmm?”

“Brittany’s home.”

If he wasn’t half asleep, he probably wouldn’t have let out the irritated groan like he did, but it’s too late now. Not like you don’t know the two of them are having issues, anyway.

“I’m gonna head out. “I’ll see you on Monday, yeah?”

“See you on Monday. Oh.” He catches your wrist as you stand up from the couch. “Thank you for helping today. Setting up and cleaning. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” you tell him with a smile. “Anything for my favorite boys.”

On Monday, Eddie’s bent under the hood of a car, trying like hell to unscrew a stubborn cap. The voice of his friend startles him and he almost bangs his head on the hood as he jumps.

“Hey,” Steve says.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asks, wiping grease on the rag hanging over his shoulder. “It acting up again?”

“Yep,” Steve says, sliding his hands in his pocket. Eddie lets out a sigh and nods his head.

“Okay, I’ll try and work it in today.” He makes to go back under the hood, but Steve’s question has him freezing his movements.

“So, uh, question for you. Are you fucking the babysitter? Because between you and me? You should be.”

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